The next four years were a period of growing political activity.

The new party was especially energetic. Their chief organiser, Mr.

Arthur Henderson, M.P., is one of the most gifted party managers of

this generation, and his achievement is an outstanding feature of

political organisation in this country. The old parties also had time

to repair their machinery; by the time the election was called their

organisations were in full working order. The only party which had no

organisation worth speaking of was the National Liberal party. The

others were ready for the struggle.

Nevertheless, when the election came in November nearly 5,000,000 of

the electors were not sufficiently interested in the contest to take

the trouble to record their votes. It showed an improvement of 10 per

cent. on the previous election, but there still remained nearly 20 per

cent.--making allowance for death, sickness, removals, etc.--who stayed

at home, and could not be persuaded by personal or public appeal or

pressure exercised by three or four great organisations, to walk a few

hundred yards out of their way in order to place a simple cross on the

ballot paper that was awaiting them.

The municipal elections tell a still more dismal story of apathy. But

that is an old story. It was with difficulty that the old electorate,

with all its long training, could be cajoled to visit the polling

booths where the good government of the towns in which they breathed,

lived, toiled, enjoyed themselves, and rested was being determined.

At their worst, however, they made a better show than the newly

enfranchised voters.

How does the record compare with democracy in other lands? France is

no better. On the whole, I understand it is worse. The voting in the

United States of America fluctuates according to the interest excited

by the particular election. In this respect America does not differ

from Britain. I cannot lay my hand on the percentage of the poll at the

last presidential election, but I gather it was higher than ours at

the general election. The Germans polled at their last election 89 per

cent. of their electorate; in Italy the percentage was much lower.

With an unpolled and unticketed electorate of over 4,000,000 anything

may happen. They have clearly no interest in the ordinary political

conflicts that engage the minds of their fellow-citizens; otherwise,

the excitement of two general elections would have roused them to such

faint exhibition of partisanship as is implied in the choosing of a

candidate out of the two or three who have taken the trouble to send

along their pictures.

But one day an issue may arise which will wake up the most lethargic.

What will it be? And what view will they take of it when it comes? And

who will succeed in catching the eye of the slumbering multitude when

it opens? Much depends on the answer to these questions. They may rally

to the defence of property menaced by rapacious creeds. They may rush

to the protection of their homes threatened by avaricious wealth.

Even those who have already voted are liable to sudden and devastating

changes of opinion. Witness Mitcham, Willesden, and Edgehill. These

three seats were regarded as being amongst the safest in England, and

were selected for that very reason.

Amongst many disquieting factors there is one which ought to be dealt

with ere another election arrive. Under the present system a minority

of electors may usurp absolute dominion over the fortunes of this

kingdom for fully five years.

This is one of the freaks of the group system. The present

parliamentary majority has been elected by an aggregate vote which

represents something a little better than one-fourth of the total

electorate and one-third of those who recorded their votes. If Mitcham

and Edgehill are a foretaste of what is to happen at the "General,"

Labour will be the lucky third. A similar turnover of votes in every

constituency would place them easily in that position.

America has brought its vast electorate under what seems to us to be

a perfect discipline. But in the process it has passed through much

tribulation, including the furnace of a terrible civil war. Italy has

been impelled to correct the working of democratic institutions by a

display of force. Britain may mobilise and drill its electoral forces

with less trouble. But it has a Socialist party, which has grown by

millions within less than a decade--and is still growing. This week its

most eloquent member has proposed, in the House of Commons, a solemn

motion for the abolition of private property. Deputies chosen by four

and a quarter million of British electors will vote for this proposal,

and if, four years hence, they add another million and a half to their

poll, they will be in a position to place that motion on the statute

book. Their increase between 1918 and 1922 was greater than that.

FOOTNOTE:

[10] See the _Times_, March 14, 1923.

XXV

POLITICAL REALITIES

A few weeks ago I predicted that the comparative calm which has

prevailed in the political seas of Britain during the past few years

was coming to an end. Recent parliamentary scenes leave no doubt that

the prolonged political depression is to be followed by a period of

storms--it may be hurricanes.

No amount of organisation or propaganda can excite real feeling in

an electorate over trivial and unreal issues. Why did the coalition

of 1915 fall? And why did the Liberal party split in 1916? Who was

responsible? Should the general election have taken place in 1918

or 1919? Ought open and declared opponents of the government of the

day to have then received government support or at least government

neutrality? These are questions which agitate a few who are personally

interested, but they leave the nation cold.

The war was real enough. But the war was supported by men of

all parties, and, therefore, provoked no political controversy.

The minority which opposed it was negligible, and challenged no

parliamentary discussion on the question. The treaty of peace was,

on the whole, accepted by all parties when it was first submitted to

Parliament. The leaders of the opposition parties in the Lords and

Commons at the time of its presentation offered no serious criticism of

its provisions.

The legislation proposed by the Coalition, although in ordinary seasons

much of it would have aroused angry passions, coming as it did after

the war had exhausted emotion, passed with no more than a feeble murmur

of protest. Take, for instance, such controversial topics as adult

suffrage, the enfranchisement of women, the wholesale reductions in

hours of labour, representative government in India, and notably the

conferring upon Ireland of a measure of Home Rule more complete than

any proposed by Gladstone.

Any one of these measures proposed before the war would have led to

heated discussion throughout the land. The case of Ireland is perhaps

the most significant of the changed temper of the nation immediately

after the great war. The conflict over Irish Home Rule has now

culminated in a treaty accepted by the nation as a whole and acquiesced

in by the most violent amongst its opponents.

But fiercer political passions were stirred up by the struggle between

parties over Ireland than by any political question of modern times.

The causes underlying the conflict dealt with two of the most powerful

motives which make the human heart throb--race and religion. There

was the old feud between Saxon and Gael extending over at least seven

centuries. It drenched the moors of Ireland with the blood of both

races before a keener edge was given to its hatreds by the introduction

of an acute religious quarrel.

After the Reformation the religious differences which rent Europe

with fratricidal wars added fresh fury to the racial enmities which

made poor Ireland a cauldron of perpetual strife. When Mr. Gladstone

proposed to settle this raging tumult by wresting supremacy from a race

which had been dominant in that island for 700 years and a faith which

had been supreme there for 400 years and transferring it to the race

and religion which all that time had been in a condition of servitude,

and when in order to attain his ends he had to secure the adhesion of

men of the ruling blood and creed to his proposals, the passions raised

were deeper and angrier than any witnessed in British politics for many

a day. It led for the first time in the history of parliament to scenes

of physical violence on the floor of the House. It shows what we may

expect when there are genuine divisions of opinion which profoundly

move masses of men and women in a democracy. Those who recall the

tropical heat of parliamentary debates in 1893 naturally regard their

voyage through the frigid proceedings of the last parliament as they

would a sail through Arctic seas. That voyage is now over, and there

are signs that the waters will soon be lashed into fury.

For years political controversy between parties has been suspended

in the presence of a common danger. Reaction was inevitable, and the

greater the suppression the more violent the rebound. That does not,

however, altogether account for the visible omens of a coming struggle

unprecedented in its gravity. Fundamental issues have been raised of

such moment to millions that they cannot be settled without a struggle

that will rock society.

The scene enacted in the Commons a few days ago was by no means as

exciting as that which some of us witnessed in 1893. But it gave me an

uneasy feeling that the period of calm is definitely over, and that

Parliament henceforth must expect gusts and gales--and worse. Emotions

are once more welling up, and there are signs of a great stir coming in

British politics.

The cause is easily explained. The sense of exhaustion is passing

away, and issues containing a serious challenge to the privileges and

rights of powerful classes in the community and vital to the interests

of all classes have been raised by one of the great political parties

that divide Britain. The momentous character of that challenge may be

gathered from the terms of the motion submitted by Mr. Philip Snowden

to the judgment of the House of Commons:--

"That in view of the failure of the capitalist system to

adequately utilise and organise natural resources and productive

power, or to provide the necessary standard of life for vast

numbers of the population, and believing that the cause of this

failure lies in the private ownership and control of the means of

production and distribution, this House declares that legislative

effort should be directed to the gradual supersession of the

capitalist system by an industrial and social order based on the

public ownership and democratic control of the instruments of

production and distribution."

This motion will receive the full support of every member of the Labour

party. A few men outside the Socialist party who have acquainted

themselves with the publications of that party were quite prepared

for this demand of a complete change in the organisation of society.

And as they saw that party grow with startling rapidity they knew we

should not have long to wait before these subversive ideas would be

formulated in the House of Commons. Still, even for the students of

Socialist literature, the actual tabling of the resolution on behalf

of the second largest party in the State came as a surprise and a

shock. Too much credit was given to the restraining influence of the

trade union section of the party. Sir Lynden Macassey, in his informing

book on "Labour Policy, False and True," points out that it was in

1885 that the avowed advocates of this proposal for the abolition of

private property and for the nationalisation of all the means of

production and distribution first stood for Parliament. There were

only two candidates standing on this platform, and they polled 32 and

29 votes respectively. Last election the aggregate Socialist poll

reached the imposing figure of 4,251,011 votes. The party that secured

a majority of members in the House of Commons only polled 5,457,871

votes. Mr. Ramsay MacDonald states categorically that he knows that

the Independent Liberal members--exclusive of their leaders--favour

nationalisation and the capital levy. If that be an accurate statement

of the views of the majority of these gentlemen, and of those who elect

them, nearly one-half the British electorate are already prepared to

assent to Socialism by easy stages--which is the purport of Mr. Philip

Snowden's motion.

On that assumption we are on the eve of greater and more fundamental

changes affecting the lives of every class and condition of men and

women than have yet been seen in this country. Hence the new sense of

struggle with which the political atmosphere is palpitating. Capitalism

is to be arraigned before the Supreme Court of the Nation, condemned,

sentenced, and executed by instalments--Chinese fashion. The

composition of that court is not to-day favourable to the prosecution.

But who will be the judge after the next general election? It is

customary in political controversy to state that the election which

is for the moment impending will be the most epoch-making in history.

Without exaggeration, the next British election may well turn out to be

so. The British people, with their inherited political instinct, are

beginning to realise that grave decisions must then be taken. Hence the

greater keenness shown by the voters at by-elections--hence the new

interest taken by the public in the proceedings of Parliament. There is

still a good deal of apathy and indifference. The average comfortable

citizen is still inclined to think these Socialist schemes so crazy as

to be impossible. They cannot believe that 21,000,000 of sane people

can possibly contemplate giving their sanction to such fantasies.

There are two cardinal facts which are constantly overlooked by the

complacent. The men and women who have no property for the State to

seize constitute an overwhelming majority of the electors of the

country. The second fact to note is the great preponderance of the

industrial population over the steadier and more stolid agricultural

population. America, in spite of its gigantic manufacturing and

distributing industries, still retains 60 per cent. of its population

on the land. The same proportion of the French and Italian populations

is agrarian. Barely 10 per cent. of the British workers are engaged

in cultivating the soil. Most of our workers breathe and have their

being in the crowded and excitable atmosphere of factories, workshops,

and mines. The air is filled with germs of all kinds, and isolation in

these thronging areas is impossible. Hence the rapidity with which the

fever has spread.

Can it be arrested? Nothing will be done until the danger is visible to

every eye. To vary the metaphor, no one will believe in the flood until

it is upon us. Trained weather prophets who forecast its coming will

be laughed at or told they have a personal or party interest in ark

building. It is an old tale--as old as the dawn of history. "As in the

days before the flood, they were eating and drinking and knew not until

the flood came and took them all away."

The trouble can only be averted in two ways. One is the systematic

inculcation of sound doctrines of economic truth into the minds of the

working people of this country. The second, and the more important, is

the rooting out of the social evils which furnish the revolutionary

with striking and indisputable object-lessons of the failure of the

capitalistic system as an agent of human happiness. Without the latter

the former effort will be futile. Arguments in favour of the existing

order will be refuted by glaring and painful facts. Meanwhile, let

the champions of that order take note of the efforts put forth by the

Socialists to advertise their eagerness to redress the wrongs of the

ex-service men and to soften the asperities of discipline for the

soldier. The Socialist leaders have shrewdly taken note of the causes

that produced the overthrow of their Italian brethren, and they mean to

take such steps as will ensure that if Fascism comes in Britain it will

be an ally, and not a foe.

_London, April 16th, 1923._

XXVI

SHOULD WE MAKE PEACE WITH RUSSIA?

I am frankly delighted that negotiations between Lord Curzon and the

Soviet government seem to indicate a genuine desire on the part of both

parties to establish a more satisfactory understanding between this

country and Russia. The Bolshevist episode, like all revolutionary

terrors, has been at times a shrieking nightmare which has made the

world shudder. It did render one supreme service to civilisation--it

terrified democracy back into sanity just at the time when the

nervous excitability that followed the war was bordering on mental

instability. In our attitude towards the Soviet government we must,

however, constantly bear in mind one consideration. What matters to us

is not so much the Russian government as the people of Russia, and for

the moment the Bolshevist administration represents the only medium

for dealing with that mighty nation. As long as it remains the only

constituted authority in Russia, every act of hostility against it

injures Russia. As we discovered in 1919, you cannot wage war against

the government for the time being of a country without devastating

the land and alienating its people. You cannot refuse to trade with

it now without depriving its people of commodities--and especially of

equipments--essential to their well-being. It is the people, therefore,

who would suffer, and it is the people who would ultimately resent that

suffering. Governments come and go, but the nation goes on for ever.

The Russian people deserve--especially at the hands of all the Allied

nations--every sympathetic consideration we can extend to them. Not

only because they have to endure the sway of a tyrannical oligarchy

imposing its will by ruthless violence, but even more for the reasons

that led to the establishment of that tyranny. If the fruit is bitter

we must bear in mind how the tree came to be planted in the soil. It

may sound like quoting ancient history to revert to the events of eight

or nine years ago, but no one can understand Russia, or do justice to

its unhappy people, without recalling the incidents that led to the

great catastrophe.

Those who denounce any dealings with the existing order seem to have

persuaded themselves that pre-revolutionary Russia was governed by

a gentle and beneficent despotism which conferred the blessings of

a tolerant and kindly fatherland upon a well-ruled household. In no

particular is this a true picture of the _ancien régime_. The fortress

of Peter and Paul was not erected, nor its dungeons dug, by the

Bolshevists. Siberia was not set up as a penal settlement for political

offenders for the first time--if at all--by the Bolshevists. In 1906

alone 45,000 political offenders were deported to endure the severities

of Siberia. Persecution of suspected religious leaders was not started

by the Soviets. To them does not belong the discredit of initiating the

methods of Pogromism. Under the "paternal" reign of the Tsars dissent

from the Orthodox faith was proscribed and persecuted, and the Jews

were hunted like vermin.

Let us not forget also that beyond all these circumstances the

revolution was rendered inevitable by the ineptitude and corruption

of the old system, and especially by the terrible suffering and

humiliation which that state of things inflicted on Russia in the Great

War.

Any one who has read the _Memoirs of an Ambassador_, by M. Paléologue,

will find a complete explanation in its pages of the savage hatred with

which the Russian revolutionaries view all those who were associated

in any degree with the old order. He tells the story of how the

gallant army found itself at the critical hour without ammunition,

rifles, transport, and often without food. No braver or more devoted

men ever fought for their country than the young peasants who made up

the Russian armies of 1914-15-16. With little and often no artillery

support, they faced without faltering the best-equipped heavy artillery

in the world. They were mown down by shell fire and machine guns by

the million. Their aggregate casualties up to September, 1916, even

according to the reluctant admissions of the Tsarist generals of the

day, were five millions. In reality they were much heavier. Often they

went into action with sticks, as the Russian War Office had no rifles

with which to arm them. They picked up as they advanced rifles dropped

by fallen comrades. There is nothing in the war comparable to the

trustful heroism of these poor peasants. We know now why there were no

rifles, or shells, or wagons. The wholesale corruption of the _régime_

has been exposed to the world by irrefutable documentary evidence.

Here are a few extracts from M. Paléologue's interesting book. One

extract from his diary reads:--

"The lack of ammunition means that the rôle of the artillery

in battle is necessarily insignificant. The whole burden of

the fighting falls on the infantry and the result is a ghastly

expenditure of human life. A day or two ago one of the Grand

Duke Sergius's collaborators, Colonel Englehardt, said to Major

Wehrlin, my second military attaché: 'We're paying for the crimes

of our administration with the blood of our men.'"

About the same date talking about the deplorable state of things, the

Grand Duke Sergius, who was Inspector-General of Artillery, said to the

French ambassador, "When I think that this exhibition of impotence is

all that our aristocratic system has to show, it makes me want to be a

Republican."

When a Grand Duke talked like that early in 1915, what must a peasant

soldier have thought by the spring of 1917, after many more millions of

his comrades had been slaughtered as a result of the same "exhibition

of impotence."

It is no use pointing to the fact that our army was also short of

ammunition at that date. The British army was a small army organised

on the basis of a maximum expeditionary force of six divisions. The

Russian army was a great conscript force organised on the basis of a

hundred divisions in the field.

I recollect well our own military reports from the Russian fronts. They

provided much distressing reading. They filled you with compassion for

the millions of gallant men who were the victims of corruption and

stupidity in high places. I recall one statement made to our general

which betrays the callous indifference with which men in authority

seemed to treat the appalling sacrifice of life amongst loyal soldiers

who were facing death without a murmur, because the "Little Father"

willed it. Whenever anxious inquiries were directed by our officer as

to the gigantic losses in men which filled him with dismay as well

as horror, the usual reply was, "Don't worry yourself. Thank God, of

men at all events we have enough." An answer which sends a thrill of

horror through you when you read it. That is why at the end of two

and a half years the patient men in the field at last mutinied. That

is why their parents and brothers in the fields supported them. The

"Little Father" had failed them, and his minions had betrayed them. It

is a sordid and horrid tale of peculation, maladministration, and cruel

treachery. Millions of British and French money went in shameless and

open bribery, whilst the soldiers in the field, for need of what the

money could buy, were opposing bare breasts covering brave hearts to

the most terrible artillery in the world. If the rest of the money had

been well spent, what was left after providing for profuse graft would

still have sufficed to save that gallant army from destruction. But

unhappily no real interest was taken in anything beyond the amount and

the payment of the pocket-money. That seemed to be the main purpose of

the transaction. Nothing was well managed except the inevitable bribe.

There were honourable and upright men who did their duty by their

distracted and plundered country, but they were helpless in the torrent

of corruption.

Where Are We Going? · 第 13 / 16 段