Whenever in Ireland there has been a revolt of labor it too often finds
arrayed against it the press, the law, and the police. All the great
powers are in entente. The press, without inquiry, begins a detestable
cant about labor agitators misleading ignorant men. Every wild phrase
uttered by an exasperated worker is quoted against the cause of labor,
and its grievances are suppressed. We are told nothing about how
the worker lives: what homes, what food, his wage will provide. The
journalist holds up a moral umbrella, protecting society from the fiery
hail of conscience. The baser sort of clergyman will take up the parable
and begin advocating a servile peace, glibly misinterpreting the divine
teaching of love to prove that the lamb should lie down inside the lion,
and only so can it be saved soul and body, forgetful that the peace
which was Christ's gift to humanity was the peace of God which passes
all understanding, and that it was a spiritual quietude, and that on
earth--the underworld--the gospel in realization was to bring not peace
but a sword.
The law, assured of public opinion, then deals sternly with whatever
unfortunate life is driven into its pens. I am putting very mildly the
devilish reality, for society is so constituted that the public, kept in
ignorance of the real facts, believes that it is acting rightly, and so
the devil has conscience on his side and that divine power is turned
to infernal uses. What can labor oppose to this federation of State and
Church, of press and law, of capital and physical force to back capital,
when it sets about its own liberation and to institute a new social
order to replace autocracy in industry? Its allies are few. A rare
thinker, scientist, literary man, artist or clergyman, impelled by
hatred of what is ugly in life, will speak on its behalf, and may render
some aid and help to tear holes in that moral shield held up by the
press, and may here and there give to that blinded public a vision of
the Hosts of the Lord arrayed against it. But the only real power
the workers can truly rely on is their own. Nothing but a spiritual
revolution or an economic revolution will bring other classes into
comradeship with them. The ideal labor should set before itself is not
a transitory improvement in its wage, because a wage war never truly or
permanently improves the position of labor. This section or that may,
relatively to its own past or the position of other workers, improve
itself; but capital is like a ship which, however the tide rises or
falls, floats upon it, and is not sunken more deeply in the water at
high tide than at low tide. Whenever any burden is placed upon capital
it immediately sets about unloading that burden on the public. Wages
might be doubled by Act of Parliament, and the net result would be
to double prices, if not to increase them still more. The more the
autocrats of industry are federated the more easily can they unload on
others any burden placed on them.
The value of money is simply what it will purchase at any time. If
the rulers of industry can halve the purchasing power of money while
doubling wages at the command of the State, logic leads us to assume
that wages boards, arbitration boards and the like can only be
transitory in their meliorating effect; and to pursue the attack on the
autocrats of industry by the road of wages alone is to attack them where
they are impregnable, and where, seeming to give way, they are all the
while really losing nothing, and are only fixing the wage system more
permanently on those who attack them. There are fiery spirits among the
proletarians who hope that militant labor will at last bring about the
social revolution, taking the earthly paradise by violence. They believe
that if every worker dropped his tools and absolutely refused to work
under the old system, it would be impossible to continue it. That is
true, but those who advocate this policy slur over many difficulties,
and the relative power of endurance of both parties. They do not, I
think, take into account the immense power in the hands of those who
uphold the present system. Those who might be expected to strike are
not--at least in Ireland--a majority of the population. They would have
far fewer material resources to fall back on than those others whose
interests would lead them to preserve the present social order. It
is clear, too, when we analyze the forces at the command of labor
and capital, that the latter has attached to itself by the bonds of
self-interest the scientific men--engineers, inventors, chemists,
bacteriologists, designers, organizers, all the intellect of
industry--without which, in alliance with itself, revolting labor would
be unable to continue production as before. Labor so revolting might
indeed for a time bring the work of the nation to a standstill; but
unless it could by some means attract to itself men of the class
described, it would not be able to take the helm of the ship of industry
and guide it with knowledge as the holders of economic power have done
in the past. A policy of emancipation should provide labor with a
means of attracting to itself that kind of knowledge which is gained in
universities, laboratories, colleges of science, and, above all, in
the actual guidance of great industrial enterprises. In any trial of
endurance those who start with the greatest intellectual, moral, and
material resources will win.
I do not deny that the strike is a powerful weapon in the hand of labor,
but it is one with which it is difficult to imagine labor dealing a
knock-out blow to the present social order. I believe in an orderly
evolution of society, at least in Ireland, and doubt whether by
revolution people can be raised to an intelligence, a humanity, or a
nobility of nature greater than they formerly possessed. Nobody can
remain standing on tiptoe. After a little time disorder subsides and
some strong man leads the inevitable reaction. In France people revolted
against a decadent monarchy, and in a dozen years they had a new
emperor. In England they beheaded a king as a protest against tyranny,
and they got a dictator in his place who took little or no account of
parliaments; and finally a second Charles, rather worse than the first,
came to the throne. The everlasting battle between light and darkness
goes on stubbornly all the time, and the gain of the Hosts of Light is
inch by inch. Extraordinary efforts, impetuous charges, which seem
to win for a moment, too often leave the attacking force tired and
exhausted, and the forces of reaction set in and overwhelm them. I am
the friend of revolt if people cannot stand the conditions they live
under, and if they can see no other way. It is better to be men than
slaves. The French Revolution was a tragic episode in history, but
when people suffer intolerably and are insulted in their despair it is
inevitable blood will be shed. One can only say with Whitman:
Pale, silent, stern, what could I say to that long-accrued retribution?
Could I wish humanity different Could I wish the people made of wood and
stone, or that there be no justice in destiny or time?
There is danger in revolution if the revolutionary spirit is much more
advanced than the intellectual, and moral qualities which alone
can secure the success of a revolt. These intellectual and moral
qualities--the skill to organize, the wisdom to control large
undertakings, are not natural gifts but the results of experience. They
are evolutionary products. The emancipation of labor, I believe, will
not be gained by revolution but by prolonged effort, continued month by
month and year by year, in which first this thing is adventured, then
that: each enterprise brings its own gifts of wisdom and experience,
and there is no reaction, because, instead of the violent use of certain
powers, the whole being is braced: experience, intellect, desire, all
strong and working harmoniously, press forward and support each other,
and no enterprise is undertaken where the intellect to carry it out is
not present together with the desire. It requires great intellectual
and moral qualities to bring about a revolution. A rage at present
conditions is not enough.