It would be a bitter reproach on the household of our nation if there
were any unconsidered, who were left in poverty and without hope and
outside our brotherhood. We have not yet considered the agricultural
laborer--the proletarian of the countryside. His is, in a sense, the
most difficult problem of any. The basis of economic independence in
his industry is the possession of land, and that is not readily to be
obtained in Ireland. The earth does not upheave itself from beneath the
sea and add new land to that already above water in response to our
need for it. Yet I would not pass away from the rural laborer without,
however inadequately, indicating some curves in his future evolution.
These laborers are not in Ireland half so numerous as farmers, for it
is a country of small holdings, where the farmer and his family are
themselves laborers. Labor is badly paid, and, owing to the lack of
continuous cropping of the land, it is often left without employment at
seasons when employment is most needed. No class which is taken up today
and dropped tomorrow will in modern times remain long in a country.
Employers often act as if they thought labor could be taken up and laid
down again like a pipe and tobacco. None have contributed so to thicken
the horde of Irish exiles as the rural laborers. Three hundred thousand
of them in less than my lifetime have left the fields of Ireland for the
factories of the new world. Yet I can only rejoice if Irishmen, who are
badly dealt with in their motherland, find an ampler life and a more
prosperous career in another land. A wage of ten or eleven shillings a
week will bind none but the unaspiring lout to his country. But I would
like to make Ireland a land which, because of the human kindness in it,
few would willingly leave. The agricultural proletarian, like all other
labor, should be organized in a national union. That is bound to come.
But the agricultural laborer should, I think, no more than labor in the
cities, make the raising of wages his main or only object. He should
rather strive to make himself economically independent; or, in the
alternative, seek for status by integration into the co-operative
communities of farmers by becoming a member, and by pressing for
permanent employment by the community rather than casual employment by
the individual. Agricultural labor undoubtedly will have to struggle for
better remuneration. Yet it has to be remembered that agriculture is
a protean industry. It is not like mining, where the colliery produces
coal and nothing but coal, and where the miners have a practical
monopoly of supply. If miners are dissatisfied with wages and are well
organized they can enforce their terms, and the colliery owners may
almost be indifferent, because they can charge the increased cost
of working to the public. But agriculture, as I said, is protean and
changes its forms perpetually. If tillage does not pay this year, next
year the farmer may have his land in grass. He reverts to the cheapest
methods of farming when prices are low, or labor asks a wage which the
farmer believes it would be unprofitable to pay. In this way pressure
on the farmer for extra wages might result in two men being employed
to herd cows where a dozen men were previously employed at tillage.
The farmer cannot easily--as the mine-owner--unload his burden on the
general public by the increase of prices. There are many difficulties,
which seem almost insoluble, if we propose to ourselves to integrate the
rural laborer into the general economic life of the country by making
him a partner in the industry he works on. But what I hope for most
is first that the natural evolution of the rural community, and the
concentration of individual manufacture, purchase and sale, into
communal enterprises, will lead to a very large co-operative ownership
of expensive machinery, which will necessitate the communal employment
of labor. If this takes place, as I hope it will, the rural laborer,
instead of being a manual worker using primitive implements, will have
the status of a skilled mechanic employed permanently by a cooperative
community. He should be a member of the society which employs him, and
in the division of profits receive in proportion to his wage, as the
farmers in proportion to their trade.
A second policy open to agricultural labor when it becomes organized
is the policy of collective farming. This I believe will and ought to
receive attention in the future. Co-operative societies of agricultural
laborers in Italy, Roumania, and elsewhere have rented land from
landowners. They then reallotted the land among themselves for
individual cultivation, or else worked it as a true co-operative
enterprise with labor, purchase and sale all communal enterprises, with
considerable benefit to the members. We can well understand a landowner
not liking to divide his land into small holdings, with all the
attendant troubles which in Ireland beset a landlord with small farmers
on his estate. But I think landowners in Ireland could be found who
would rent land to a co-operative society of skilled laborers who
approached the owner with a well-thought-out scheme. The success of one
colony would lead to others being started, as happened in Italy.
This solution of the problem of agricultural labor will be forced on us
for many reasons. The economic effects of the great European War, the
burden of debt piled on the participating nations, will make Ministers
shun schemes of reform involving a large use of national credit, or
which would increase the sum of national obligations. Land purchase
on the old term I believe cannot be continued. Yet we will demand the
intensive cultivation of the national estate, and increased production
of wealth, especially of food-stuffs. The large area of agricultural
land laid down for pasture is not so productive as tilled land, does
not sustain so large a population, and there will be more reasons in the
future than in the past for changing the character of farming in these
areas. The policy of collective farming offers a solution, and whatever
Government is in power should facilitate the settlement of men in
cooperative colonies and provide expert instructors as managers for the
first year or two if necessary. Such a policy would not be so expensive
as land purchase, and with fair rent fixed, hundreds of thousands of
people could be planted comfortably on the land in Ireland and produce
more wealth from it than could ever be produced from grazing lands,
and agricultural workers and the sons of farmers who now emigrate could
become economically independent.
I hope, also, that farmers, becoming more brotherly as their own
enterprises flourish, will welcome laborers into their co-operative
stores, credit banks, poultry and bee-keeping societies, and allow them
the benefits of cheap purchase, cheap credit, and of efficient marketing
of whatever the laborer may produce on his allotment. The growth of
national conscience and the spirit of human brotherhood, and a
feeling of shame that any should be poor and neglected in the national
household, will be needed to bring the rural laborer into the circle of
national life, and make him a willing worker in the general scheme.
If farmers will not, on their part, advance towards their laborers and
bring them into the co-operative community, then labor will be organized
outside their community and will be hostile, and will be always brooding
and scheming to strike a blow when the farmer can least bear it,--when
the ground must be tilled or the harvest gathered. And this, if peace
cannot be made, will result in a still greater decline of tillage and
the continued flight of the rural laborers, and the increase of the area
in grass, and the impoverishing of human life and national well-being.
Some policy to bring contentment to small holders and rural workers must
be formulated and acted upon. Agriculture is of more importance to the
nation than industry. Our task is to truly democratize civilization
and its agencies; to spread in widest commonalty culture, comfort,
intelligence, and happiness, and to give to the average man those things
which in an earlier age were the privileges of a few. The country is the
fountain of the life and health of a race. And this organization of the
country people into co-operative communities will educate them and make
them citizens in the true sense of the word, that is, people continually
conscious of their identity of interest with those about them.
It is by this conscious sense of solidarity of interest, which only the
organized co-operative community can engender in modern times, that the
higher achievements of humanity become possible. Religion has created
this spirit at times--witness the majestic cathedrals the Middle Ages
raised to manifest their faith. Political organization engendered the
passion of citizenship in the Greek States, and the Parthenon and a host
of lordly buildings crowned the hills and uplifted and filled with
pride the heart of the citizen. Our big countries, our big empires, and
republics, for all their military strength and science, and the wealth
which science has made it possible for man to win, do not create
citizenship because of the loose organization of society; because
individualism is rampant, and men, failing to understand the intricacies
of the vast and complex life of their country, fall back on private
life and private ambitions, and leave the honor of their country and the
making of laws and the application of the national revenues to a class
of professional politicians, in their turn in servitude to the interests
which supply party funds, and so we find corruption in high places and
cynicism in the people. It is necessary for the creation of citizens,
for the building up of a noble national life, that the social order
should be so organized that this sense of interdependence will be
constantly felt. It is also necessary for the preservation of the
physical health and beauty of our race that our people should live
more in the country and less in the cities. I believe it would be an
excellent thing for humanity if its civilization could be based on rural
industry mainly and not on urban industry. More and more men and women
in our modern civilization drift out of Nature, out of sweet air,
health, strength, beauty, into the cities, where in the third generation
there is a rickety population, mean in stature, vulgar or depraved in
character, with the image of the devil in mind and matter more than the
image of Deity. Those who go like it at first; but city life is like the
roll spoken of by the prophet, which was sweet in the mouth but bitter
in the belly. The first generation are intoxicated by the new life,
but in the third generation the cord is cut which connected them with
Nature, the Great Mother, and life shrivels up, sundered from the source
of life. Is there any prophet, any statesman, any leader, who will--as
Moses once led the Israelites out of the Egyptian bondage--excite
the human imagination and lead humanity back to Nature, to sunlight,
starlight, earth-breath, sweet air, beauty, gaiety, and health? Is it
impossible now to move humanity by great ideas, as Mahomet fired his
dark hosts to forgetfulness of life; or as Peter the Hermit awakened
Europe to a frenzy, so that it hurried its hot chivalry across a
continent to the Holy Land? Is not the earth mother of us all? Are not
our spirits clothed round with the substance of earth? Is it not from
Nature we draw life? Do we not perish without sunlight and fresh air?
Let us have no breath of air and in five minutes life is extinct. Yet
in the cities there is a slow poisoning of life going on day by day. The
lover of beauty may walk the streets of London or any big city and may
look into ten thousand faces and see none that is lovely. Is not the
return of man to a natural life on the earth a great enough idea to
inspire humanity? Is not the idea of a civilization amid the green trees
and fields under the smokeless sky alluring? Yes, but men say there is
no intellectual life working on the land. No intellectual life when man
is surrounded by mystery and miracle! When the mysterious forces which
bring to birth and life are yet undiscovered; when the earth is teeming
with life, and the dumb brown lips of the ridges are breathing mystery!
Is not the growth of a tree from a tiny cell hidden in the earth as
provocative of thought as the things men learn at the schools? Is not
thought on these things more interesting than the sophistries of the
newspapers? It is only in Nature, and by thought on the problems of
Nature, that our intellect grows to any real truth and draws near to the
Mighty Mind which laid the foundations of the world.
Our civilizations are a nightmare, a bad dream. They have no longer the
grandeur of Babylon or Nineveh. They grow meaner and meaner as they
grow more urbanized. What could be more depressing than the miles of
poverty-stricken streets around the heart of our modern cities? The
memory lies on one "heavy as frost and deep almost as life." It
is terrible to think of the children playing on the pavements; the
depletion of vitality, with artificial stimulus supplied from the
flaring drink-shops. The spirit grows heavy as if death lay on it while
it moves amid such things. And outside these places the clouds are
flying overhead snowy and spiritual as of old, the sun is shining, the
winds are blowing, the fields are green, the forests are murmuring leaf
to leaf, but the magic that God made is unknown to these poor folk. The
creation of a rural civilization is the greatest need of our time.
It may not come in our days, but we can lay the foundations of it,
preparing the way for the true prophet when he will come. The fight now
is not to bring people back to the land, but to keep those who are
on the land contented, happy, and prosperous. And we must begin by
organizing them to defend what is left to them; to take back, industry
by industry, what was stolen from them. We must organize the country
people into communities, for without some kind of communal life men hold
no more together than the drifting sands by the seashore. There is a
natural order in which men have instinctively grouped themselves from
the dawn of time. It is as natural to them to do so as it is for bees to
build their hexagonal cells. If we read the history of civilization
we will find people in every land forming little clans co-operating
together. Then the ambition of rulers or warriors breaks them up; the
greed of powerful men puts an end to them. But, whether broken or not,
the moment the rural dweller is left to himself he begins again, with
nature prompting him, to form little clans--or nations rather--with his
fellows, and it is there life has been happiest. We did this in ancient
Ireland. The baronies whose names are on Irish land today and the
counties are survivals of these old co-operative colonies, where the men
owned the land together and elected their own leaders, and formed their
own social order and engendered passionate loyalties and affections. It
was so in every land under the sun. It was so in ancient India and in
ancient Peru. The European farmers, and we in Ireland along with them,
are beginning again the eternal task of building up a civilization in
nature--the task so often disturbed, the labor so often destroyed. And
it is with the hope that we in Ireland will build truly and nobly that I
have put together these thoughts on the rural community.