CHAPTER IV.

OF THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC.

The Social Republic promises to solve the difficulty.

“All systems, all governments,” it declares, “have been tried and found

wanting. My ideas alone are new, and have not yet been put to the test.

My day is come.”

This is a mistake. The ideas propounded by the Social Republic are not

new. They are as old as the world. They have risen up in the midst of

all the great moral and social crises, whether in the East or the West,

in the ancient or the modern world. The second and third centuries in

Africa, and especially in Egypt, during the agitations caused by the

propagation of Christianity--the middle ages during their confused,

stormy fermentation--the sixteenth century in Germany, in the course of

the Reformation--and the seventeenth in England during the political

revolution,--had their Socialists and their Communists, thinking,

speaking, and acting precisely like those of our own day. It is a phase

of human nature that reappears at epochs when society is like a boiling

caldron, in which every ingredient is thrown to the surface and exposed

to view.

Till now, it is true, these ideas had only been enounced on a small

scale, obscurely and timidly, and were repelled and execrated almost as

soon as they saw the light. But now they boldly exhibit themselves, and

put forth all their pretensions before the public. It signifies little

whether this is by their own strength, by the fault of the public

itself, or from causes inherent in the present state of society. Since

the Social Republic is proclaimed aloud, we must look at it steadily and

endeavour to fathom its lowest depths.

I wish to avoid all circumlocution, to throw aside all disguises, and to

go straight to the heart of the idol. Nor is this impossible. For as all

the efforts of the Social Republic tend to one end, so all its ideas are

the offspring of one fundamental idea.

This fundamental idea is to be found, explicitly or implicitly, in the

language of all the leaders of the Social Republic, though all do not

avow, and some are perhaps not even conscious that they entertain it. M.

Proudhon appears to me the one among them who knows best what he thinks

and what he wishes: he appears to show the firmest and most consistent

understanding in his detestable dreams.

It is not, however, so firm nor so consistent as it appears, or probably

as he himself thinks it. He has not declared, and I doubt if he have

perceived, to what his system leads.

His system, nakedly and rigorously stated, is this:--

All men have a right--and the same right--to happiness.

Happiness is the enjoyment (without any limit but that prescribed by the

want and the faculty of enjoying) of all the good things existing or

possible in this world; whether natural and primitive, or progressively

created by the intelligence and the labour of man.

Certain men, certain families, or certain classes have acquired the

exclusive enjoyment of some (indeed the greater part) of the most

essential and productive of these good things; or, in other words, these

things, or the means of procuring them, are become the special and

perpetual property of certain men, families, and classes.

Such a confiscation of a part of the fund common to mankind, for the

advantage of a few, is essentially contrary to justice; contrary to the

rights of the men of the same generation, who ought all to enjoy it

equally; and contrary to the rights of successive generations, each of

which, on its entrance into life, ought to find the good things of life

equally accessible, and to enjoy them in its turn like its predecessors.

Therefore all special and perpetual appropriation of the good things

which confer happiness, and of the means of procuring those good things,

must be abolished, in order to insure the universal enjoyment and the

equal distribution of them amongst all men, and all successive

generations of men.

But how is it possible to abolish property? or, at least, so to

transform it, that, as regards its social and permanent effects, it may

be as if it were abolished?

Here the leaders of the Social Republic differ greatly among themselves.

Some recommend slow and gentle measures; others urge prompt and decisive

ones. Some have recourse to political means--for example, a certain

organization of existence and labour in common; others try to invent

economical and financial expedients--for example, a series of measures

designed gradually to destroy the net revenue of property, whether in

land or capital, and thus to render property itself useless and

illusory. But all these schemes originate in the same design and tend to

the same result; the abolition or the nullification of personal,

domestic, and hereditary property; and of all institutions, social or

political, which are based upon personal, domestic, and hereditary

property.

Such, through all the diversity, obscurity, ambiguity, and contradiction

of the ideas which circulate among the adherents of the Social

Republic, is the beginning and the end, the alpha and omega, of all

these systems; such is the end they pursue, and hope to attain.

But the following truths are forgotten by M. Proudhon and his friends.

Mankind is not merely a series of individuals called men; it is a race,

which has a common life, and a general and progressive destiny. This is

the distinctive character of man, which he alone of created beings

possesses.

And why is this? It is because human individuals are not isolated, nor

confined to themselves, and to the point they occupy in space or time.

They are connected with each other; they act upon each other, by ties

and by means which do not require their presence, and which outlive

them. Hence the successive generations of men are linked together in

unbroken succession.

The permanent union and progressive development which are the

consequences of this unbroken succession of man to man, and generation

to generation, characterize the human race. They constitute its

peculiarity and its greatness, and mark man for sovereignty in this

world, and for immortality beyond it.

From this are derived, and by this are founded, the family and the

state, property and inheritance, country, history, glory, all the facts

and all the sentiments which constitute the extended and perpetual life

of mankind, amidst the bounded appearance and rapid disappearance of

individual men.

In the Social Republic all this ceases to exist. Men are mere isolated

and ephemeral beings, who appear in this life, and on this earth the

scene of life, only to take their subsistence and their pleasure, each

for himself alone, each by the same right, and without any end or

purpose beyond.

This is precisely the condition of the lower animals. Among them there

exists no tie, no influence, which survives the individual, and extends

to the race. There is no permanent appropriation, no hereditary

transmission, no unity nor progress in the life of the species;--nothing

but individuals who appear and then vanish, seizing on their passage

their portion of the good things of the earth and the pleasures of life,

according to the combined measure of their wants and their strength,

which, according to them, constitute their right.

Thus, in order to secure to every individual of the human species the

equal and incessantly fluctuating share of the goods and pleasures of

sense, the doctrines of the Social Republic bring men down to the level

of the lower animals. They obliterate the human race.

They do worse.

There is in the mind of man an imperishable instinct that God presides

over his destiny, and that it is not wholly accomplished in this world.

Naturally and universally, man believes in God and invokes him as his

support in the present, his hope in the future.

According to the doctrines of the Social Republic, God is an unknown

imaginary power, upon whom the visible and real rulers of men upon earth

throw the weight of their own responsibility, and by thus directing the

eyes of the suffering towards another master and another state of

existence, dispose them to acquiesce in their afflictions, whilst they

secure themselves in the maintenance of their usurpations. According

then to this doctrine, God is evil, for it is in his name that men are

persuaded to acquiesce in evil. To banish evil from the earth, it

therefore is necessary to banish God from the mind of man. Men left

alone with their earthly masters, and reduced to an earthly existence,

will demand the enjoyments of this life and the equal distribution of

these enjoyments; and as soon as those who are without them insist on

having them, they will have them, for they are the strongest.

Thus God and the human race will disappear together. In their place will

remain animals still bearing the name of men, more intelligent and more

powerful than other animals, but having the same condition and the same

destiny; and like them seizing, on their passage through life, their

portion of the goods of earth and the pleasures of sense, according to

the combined measure of their wants and their strength, which constitute

their right.

Such is the philosophy of the Social Republic; such, therefore, is the

basis of its policy. We have traced its origin and its end.

I will not insult the good sense or the dignity of mankind by dwelling

on it longer. It is the degradation of man, and the destruction of

society.

Not only of society as at present constituted, but of all human society

whatsoever: for all society rests on foundations which it is the object

of the Social Republic to overthrow. It is not a mere invasion of the

social edifice by intruders, whether barbarian or not; it is the utter

ruin of the edifice itself that is contemplated. If M. Proudhon had the

absolute disposal of society in its present state, with all that it

possesses or enjoys, and were to change the distribution and the

possessors of property at his own good pleasure, he would be guilty of

great iniquity, and occasion great suffering. He would not, however,

destroy society. But if he pretended to give the ideas with which he

tries to batter down the present structure of society, as laws to one

newly framed, it would infallibly perish. Instead of a State and a

People, there would be only a chaos of human beings, without a tie and

without repose. Nor would it be possible to reduce that chaos to order

without abandoning or evading the ideas of the Social Republic, and

returning to the natural conditions of social order.

The Social Republic is then at once odious and impossible. It is the

most absurd, and at the same time the most perverse, of all chimeras.

But we must not presume upon this. Nothing is more dangerous than what

is at once strong and impossible. The Social Republic is strong; indeed

how can it be otherwise? Availing themselves with ardour of every kind

of liberty granted for the promulgation of ideas, its advocates are

incessantly labouring to diffuse their principles and their promises

through the densest ranks of society. There they find masses of men easy

to delude, easy to inflame. They offer them rights in conformity with

their desires. They excite their passions in the name of justice and

truth. For it would be puerile to deny (and for the honour of human

nature we must admit) that the ideas of the Social Republic have, to

many minds, the character and the force of truth. In questions so

complex and so exciting, the smallest gleam of truth is sufficient to

dazzle the eyes and inflame the hearts of men, and to dispose them to

embrace with transport the grossest and most fatal errors with which

that truth is blended. Fanaticism is kindled at the same time that

selfishness is awakened; sincere devotedness joins hands with brutal

passions; and, in the terrible fermentation which ensues, evil

predominates; the portion of good mingled with it acts only as its veil

and its instrument.

We have no right to complain, for it is we ourselves who incessantly add

fuel to the fire--and this is the most deep-seated of our maladies. It

is we who give to the Social Republic its chief strength. It is the

chaos of our political ideas and our political morality--that chaos

disguised sometimes under the word _democracy_, sometimes under that of

_equality_, sometimes under that of _people_--which opens all the gates,

and throws down all the ramparts of society before it. We say that

Democracy is everything. The men of the Social Republic reply,

“Democracy is ourselves.” We proclaim, in language of infinite

confusion, the absolute equality of rights and the sovereign right of

numbers. The men of the Social Republic come forward and say, “Count our

numbers.” The perpetual confusion of the true and the false, the good

and the bad, the possible and the chimerical, which prevails in our own

policy, our own language, our own acts--this it is which has enfeebled

our arm for defence, and given to the Social Republic a confidence, an

arrogance, and an influence for attack, which of itself it would never

possess.

When this confusion shall be dissipated; when we shall arrive at that

period of maturity in which free nations, instead of blindly following

their first impressions, whithersoever they may lead, see things as they

really are, assign to the different elements of society their just

measure, and to words their true meaning, and regulate their ideas as

they do their affairs, with that firm moderation which rejects all

fantasies, admits all necessities, respects all rights, has regard to

all interests, and represses all usurpations;--those from below no less

than those from above--those of fanaticism no less than those of

selfishness: when we shall have reached this point, although the Social

Republic may not entirely disappear, and although we may not have

entirely crushed its efforts nor annihilated its dangers (for it derives

its ambition and its strength from sources that none can dry up), still

it will be controlled by the union and the order of society; all that is

most absurd and perverse in its doctrines will be incessantly combated

and defeated, and it will in time take its due place in that vast and

imposing development of the human race which is passing before our

eyes.

Democracy in France. January 1849 · 第 4 / 8 章