The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume X Part 30

Now no man, of course, who is twenty, fifty, or a hundred times as rich as another eats by any means twenty, fifty or a hundred times as much salt, or bread, or meat; or drinks fifty or a hundred times as much beer or wine; or has fifty or a hundred times as much need for heat, and therefore for fuel, as the workingman or the relatively poor man.

The result of this is that all indirect taxes, instead of falling upon individuals according to the proportion of their capital and income, are paid in the main by the propertyless cla.s.ses, the poorer cla.s.ses of the nation. It is true that the capitalists did not invent indirect taxes--they were already in existence--but they were the first to develop them into a monstrous system and to throw upon them nearly the whole cost of government. To make this clear to you, I will simply allude to the Prussian financial administration of 1855. (Shows by official statistics that out of a budget of 109,000,000 thalers all but 12,800,000 were derived from indirect taxes.)

Indirect taxation is therefore the inst.i.tution through which the capitalistic cla.s.s obtains the privilege of exemption for its capital and lays the cost of the government upon the poorer cla.s.ses of society.

Observe, at the same time, Gentlemen, the peculiar contradiction and the strange kind of justice of the procedure of laying the whole expense upon indirect taxation, and therefore upon the poor people, and of setting up as a test and a condition of the franchise, and therefore of political control, the direct taxes, which contribute for the total need of the State only the insignificant sum of twelve million out of one hundred and eight million.

I said further with reference to the n.o.bility of the Middle Ages, that they held in contempt all activity and industry of the commoners. The situation is the same today. All kinds of work, to be sure, are equally esteemed today, and if anybody became a millionaire by rag-picking he would be sure of obtaining a highly esteemed position in society.

But what social contempt falls upon those who, no matter at what they labor or how hard they toil, have no capital to back them--that is a matter which you, Gentlemen, do not need to be told by me, but can find often enough, unfortunately, in your daily life. Indeed, in many respects, the capitalist cla.s.s a.s.serts the supremacy of its special privilege with even stricter consistency than the n.o.bility of the Middle Ages did with its land owners.h.i.+p. The instruction of the people--I mean here of the adult people--was in the Middle Ages the work of the clergy. Since then the newspapers have a.s.sumed this function; but through the securities a newspaper must give, and still more through the stamp tax which is laid in our country, as in France and elsewhere, on newspapers, a daily newspaper has become a very expensive inst.i.tution, which cannot be established without very considerable capital, with the result that, for this very reason, even the opportunity to mold public opinion, instruct it, and guide it has become the privilege of the capitalist cla.s.s.

Were this not the case, you would have much different and very much better papers. It is interesting to see how early this attempt of the _bourgeoisie_ to make the press a privilege of capital appears, and in what frank and undisguised form. On July 24, 1789, a few days after the capture of the Bastille, during the first days after the middle cla.s.s obtained political supremacy, the representatives of the city of Paris pa.s.sed a resolution by which they declared printers responsible if they published pamphlets or sheets by writers _sans existence connue_ (without visible means of support). The newly won freedom of the press, then, was to exist only for writers who had visible means of support. Property thus appears as the condition of the freedom of the press, indeed of the morality of the writer. The straightforwardness of the first days of citizen sovereignty only expresses in a childishly frank manner what is today artfully obtained by bonding and stamp taxes. With these main characteristic facts corresponding to our consideration of the Middle Ages we shall have to be satisfied here.

What we have seen so far are two historical periods, each of which stands for the controlling idea of a distinct cla.s.s, which impresses its own principle upon all inst.i.tutions of the time.

First, the idea of the n.o.bility, or land owners.h.i.+p, which forms the controlling principle of the Middle Ages, and permeates all the inst.i.tutions of that time.

This period closed with the French Revolution; though, of course, especially in Germany, where this revolution came about, not through the people, but in much slower and more complete reforms introduced by the governments, numerous and important survivals of that first historical period still exist, preventing to a large extent, even today, complete control by the capitalist cla.s.s.

We observed, second, the period beginning with the French Revolution at the end of the last century, which has capitalism as its principle and establishes this as the privilege which permeates all social inst.i.tutions and determines partic.i.p.ation in the public policy. This period is also, little as external appearances indicate, essentially at an end.

On February 24, 1848, the first dawn of a new historical period became visible, for on that day in France--that land in whose mighty internal struggles the victories as well as the defeats of liberty indicate victories and defeats for all mankind--a revolution broke out which placed a workingman at the head of the provisional government, which declared the principle of the State to be the improvement of the lot of the working cla.s.ses, and proclaimed the universal and direct franchise, through which every citizen who had attained his twenty-first year, without regard to property, should receive an equal share in the control of the State and the determination of public policy. You see, Gentlemen, if the Revolution of 1789 was the revolution of the _tiers etat_ (the third cla.s.s), this time it is the fourth cla.s.s--which in 1789 was still undistinguished from the third cla.s.s and seemed to coincide with it--that now attempts to establish its own principle as the controlling one of society and to make it pervade all inst.i.tutions.

But here, in the case of the supremacy of the fourth cla.s.s, we find the tremendous distinction that this cla.s.s is the final and all-inclusive disinherited cla.s.s of humanity, which can set up no further exclusive condition, either of legal or actual kind, neither n.o.bility, land owners.h.i.+p, nor capital, which it might establish as a new privilege and carry through the inst.i.tutions of society.

Workingmen we all are, so far as we have the desire to make ourselves useful to human society in any way whatsoever.

This fourth cla.s.s, in whose bosom therefore no possible germ of a new order of privilege is concealed, is for that very reason synonymous with the whole human race. Its cla.s.s is, in truth, the cla.s.s of all humanity, its liberty is the liberty of humanity itself, its sovereignty is the sovereignty of all. Whoever hails the principle of the working cla.s.s, in the sense in which I have developed it, as a controlling principle of society, utters no cry which separates and makes hostile to another the cla.s.ses of society. He utters, rather, a cry of reconciliation, a cry which includes all society, a cry for the leveling of all hostilities among the social strata, a cry of accord, in which all should join who do not wish privilege and the oppression of the people by privileged cla.s.ses, a cry of love, which, ever since it spoke for the first time from the heart of the people, will always remain the true voice of the people, and, on account of its meaning, will still be a cry of love, even if it sounds the battle-cry of the people.

The principle of the working cla.s.s as a controlling principle of society we have still to consider from three points of view--first, as to the formal means of its realization; second, as to its moral significance; third, as to its political conception of public policy.

The formal means for carrying out this principle is the universal and direct franchise already discussed--I say the universal and direct franchise, not merely the general franchise such as we had in 1848.

The introduction in elections of two steps--of voters and of electors--is nothing but an artful means introduced purposely with the intention of thwarting, so far as possible, the will of the people in the elections. To be sure, the universal and direct franchise will be no magic wand, Gentlemen, which can protect you from temporary mistakes. We have seen in France, in the years 1848 and 1849, two unfavorable elections in succession, but the universal and direct franchise is the only means which automatically corrects, in course of time, the mistakes and temporary wrong to which this may lead. It is that legendary lance which itself heals the wounds it makes. In the course of time it is impossible, with universal and direct franchise, for chosen representatives not to be a completely faithful reflection of the people who have elected them. The people, therefore, at every time will consider universal and direct franchise as an indispensable political weapon, and as the most fundamental and important of their demands.

Let us now glance at the moral bearing of this social principle which we are considering.

Perhaps the idea of the lowest cla.s.ses of society as the controlling principle of society and of the State may appear very dangerous and immoral, one which threatens to expose morality and culture to the danger of being overrun by a "modern barbarism."

And it would be no wonder if this thought should appear so at present.

For even public opinion--I have already indicated by what means, namely, through the newspapers--receives today its imprint from the coining-die of capital and from the hands of the privileged capitalist cla.s.s.

Nevertheless this fear is only a prejudice; and it can be proved, on the contrary, that this thought would represent the highest moral progress and triumph which the world's history has shown. That view is a prejudice, I say, and it is the prejudice of the present time, which is still controlled by privilege.

At another time--at the time of the first French Republic of 1793, which was necessarily forced to fail from its own lack of clearness--the opposite prejudice prevailed. At that time it was held as a dogma that all the upper cla.s.ses were immoral and only the common people were good and moral. This view is due to Rousseau. In the new Declaration of Human Rights which the French Convention, that powerful const.i.tutional a.s.sembly, published, it is even set forth in a special article--Article 19--which reads "_Toute inst.i.tution, qui ne suppose le peuple bon et le magistrat corruptible, est vicieuse_."

(Every inst.i.tution which does not a.s.sume that the people is good and the magistracy corruptible is faulty.) You see that is exactly the opposite of the confidence which is called for today, according to which there is no greater crime than to doubt the good-will and the virtue of the magistrates, while the people are considered on principle a sort of dangerous beast and centre of corruption.

At that time the opposite dogma even went so far that almost anybody whose coat was in good repair appeared for that very reason corrupt and suspicious, and virtue and purity and patriotic morality were believed to be found only in those who had no good coat. It was the period of _sans-culottism._

This point of view had really a foundation of truth, which, however, appears in a false and perverted form. Now there is nothing more dangerous than a principle which appears in false and perverted form; for, whatever att.i.tude you take toward it, you are sure to fare badly.

If you adopt this truth in its false, perverted form, then, at certain times, this will produce the most terrible devastation, as was the case in the period of _sans-culottism._ If, on account of the false form, you reject the whole proposition as false, you fare still worse, for you have rejected a truth, and, in the case which we are considering, a truth without whose recognition no wholesome progress is possible in modern political affairs.

There is therefore no other procedure possible than to overcome the false and perverted form of that proposition, and to try to establish clearly its true meaning.

Current public opinion is, as I said, disposed to stamp the whole proposition as entirely false and as a declamation of the French Revolution and of Rousseau. However, if this unreceptive att.i.tude toward Rousseau and the French Revolution were still possible, it would be entirely impossible with reference to one of the greatest German philosophers (Fichte), the one hundredth anniversary of whose birth this State will celebrate next month, one of the most powerful thinkers of all nations and all times.

Fichte also declares expressly and literally that, with the rising social scale, a constantly increasing moral deterioration is found, and that "inferiority of character increases in proportion to the higher social cla.s.s."

The final reason of these propositions Fichte has nevertheless not developed. He gives as the reason of this corruption the selfishness of the upper cla.s.ses; but then the question must immediately arise whether selfishness is not also to be found in the lower cla.s.ses, or why less in these cla.s.ses. Now it must immediately appear as a strong contradiction that less selfishness should prevail in the lower cla.s.ses than in the upper, who have in large measure the advantage of them in the well-recognized moral elements, culture and education.

The real reason, and the explanation of this contradiction, which appears at first so strong, is the following:

For a long time, as we have seen, the development of nations, the tendency of history, has been toward a constantly extending abolition of the privileges which guarantee to the higher cla.s.ses their position as higher and ruling cla.s.ses. The wish for perpetuation of these, or personal interest, brings therefore every member of the upper cla.s.ses who has not once for all, by a wide outlook upon his whole personal existence, raised himself above such considerations (and you will understand, Gentlemen, that these can form only very unusual exceptions) into a position which is from principle hostile to the progress of the people, to the extension of education and science, to the advance of culture, to all tendencies and victories of historical life.

This opposition of the personal interest of the upper cla.s.ses to the progress of culture in the nation produces the great and inevitable immorality of the upper cla.s.ses. It is a life whose daily requirements you only need picture to yourselves in order to feel the deep decline of character to which it must lead. To be obliged daily to take an att.i.tude of opposition to everything great and good, to bewail its success, to rejoice at its failures, to check its further progress, to make futile or to curse the progress which has already been made, is like a continual existence in the enemy's country; and this enemy is the moral fellows.h.i.+p of the whole country in which you live, for which all true morality urges support. It is a continual existence, I say, in an enemy's country. This enemy is your own people, who must be looked upon and treated as an enemy, and this hostility must, at least in the long run, be craftily concealed and more or less artfully veiled.

From this arises the necessity either of doing what is against the voice of your own conscience, or of stifling this voice from the force of custom in order not to be annoyed by it, or, finally, of never knowing this voice, never knowing anything better or having anything better than the religion of your own advantage.

This life, Gentlemen, therefore leads necessarily to a complete lack of appreciation and a contempt for all ideal efforts, to a pitying smile when the great word "ideal" is even mentioned; to a deep lack of appreciation and of sympathy for everything beautiful and great; to a complete transformation of all moral elements in us into the one pa.s.sion of selfish opportunism and the pursuit of pleasure.

This conflict between personal interest and the cultural development of the nation is, fortunately, not to be found in the lower cla.s.ses of society.

In the lower cla.s.ses, to be sure, there is, unfortunately, selfishness enough, much more than there should be; but this selfishness, if it exists, is the fault of individuals and not the inevitable fault of the cla.s.s.

Even a very slight instinct tells the members of the lower cla.s.ses that, so far as each one of them depends merely upon himself and merely thinks of himself, he can hope for no considerable improvement of his situation; but so far as the lower cla.s.ses of society aim at the improvement of their condition as a cla.s.s, so far does this personal interest, instead of opposing the course of history and therefore of being condemned to the aforesaid immorality, coincide in its tendency completely with the development of the people as a whole, with the victory of the ideal, with the progress of culture, with the vital principle of history itself--which is nothing else than the development of liberty. Or, as we have already seen, their cause is the cause of all humanity.

You are therefore in the fortunate position, Gentlemen, instead of being compelled to be dead to the idea, of being destined rather, through your own personal interests, to a greater receptiveness for it. You are in the fortunate position that that which forms your own true personal interest coincides with the throbbing heart-beat of history--with the active, vital principle of moral development. You can therefore devote yourself to historical development with personal pa.s.sion and be sure that the more fervent and consuming this pa.s.sion is, the more moral is your position, in the true sense which I have explained to you.

These are the reasons why the control of the fourth cla.s.s over the State must produce a fullness of morality and culture and knowledge such as never yet existed in history.

But still another reason points in the same direction, which again is most intimately connected with all the considerations which we have stated and forms their keystone.

The fourth cla.s.s has not only a different formal political principle from the capitalist cla.s.s--namely, the universal direct franchise in place of the property qualification of the capitalist cla.s.s; it has, further, not only through its social position a different relation to moral forces than the upper cla.s.ses, but also, and partly in consequence of this, a conception of the moral purpose of the State entirely different from that of the capitalist cla.s.s. The moral idea of the capitalist is this--that nothing whatsoever is to be guaranteed to any individual but the unimpeded exercise of his faculties.

If we were all equally strong, equally wise, equally educated, and equally rich, this idea might be regarded as a sufficient and a moral one; but since we are not so, and cannot be so, this thought is not sufficient, and therefore, in its consequences, leads necessarily to a serious immorality; for its result is that the stronger, abler, richer man exploits the weaker and becomes his master.

The moral idea of the working cla.s.s, on the other hand, is that the unimpeded and free exercise of individual faculties by the individual is not sufficient, but that in a morally adjusted community there must be added to it solidarity of interests, mutual consideration, and mutual helpfulness in development.

In contrast to such a condition the capitalist cla.s.s has this conception of the moral purposes of the State--that it consists exclusively and entirely in protecting the personal liberty of the individual and his property.

This is a policeman's idea, Gentlemen--a policeman's idea because the State can think of itself only in the guise of a policeman whose whole office consists in preventing robbery and burglary. Unfortunately this conception is to be found, in consequence of imperfect thinking, not only among acknowledged liberals, but, often enough, even among many supposed to be democrats. If the capitalist cla.s.s were to carry their thought to its logical extreme they would have to admit that, according to their idea, if there were no thieves or robbers the State would be entirely unnecessary.

The fourth cla.s.s conceives of the purpose of the State in a quite different manner, and its conception of it is the true one.

History is a struggle with nature--that is, with misery, with ignorance, with poverty, with weakness, and, accordingly, with restrictions of all kinds to which we were subject when the human race appeared in the beginning of history. A constantly advancing victory over this weakness--that is the development of liberty which history portrays.

In this struggle we should never have taken a step forward, nor should we ever take another, if we had carried it on, or tried to carry it on, as individuals, each for himself alone.

It is the State which has the office of perfecting this development of freedom, and of the human race to freedom. The State is this unity of individuals in a moral composite--a unity which increases a millionfold the powers of all individuals who are included in this union, which multiplies a millionfold the powers which are at the command of them all as individuals.

The purpose of the State, then, is not to protect merely the personal liberty of the individual and the property which, according to the idea of the capitalist, he must have before he can partic.i.p.ate in the State; the purpose of the State is, rather, through this union to put individuals in a position to attain objects, to reach a condition of existence which they could never reach as individuals, to empower them to attain a standard of education, power, and liberty which would be utterly impossible for them, one and all, merely as individuals. The object of the State is, accordingly, to bring the human being to positive and progressive development--in a word, to shape human destiny, i.e., the culture of which mankind is capable, into actual existence. It is the training and development of the human race for freedom.