Socialism and the Social Movement in the 19th Century Part 6

But on the other side, we must not confuse idealism with fantasy or utopism. Enthusiasm for an object should be combined with common sense. In the one is warmth, in the other clearness; in the one lies the ideal, in the other the programme, that will offer ways and means for reaching the end.

Only when we learn to distinguish between these two fundamental thoughts shall we be able to unite ideal enthusiasm with practical common sense. For as the confusion of programme with ideal tends on the one side to a decline into useless commonplace, so on the other side it leads to a crippling of practical activity. But he who learns to distinguish the road from the goal will see that tireless exertion is needed in order to press towards the mark. An understanding of the importance and necessity of gradual reform is only awakened as a deeper insight into the worth and essence of the ideal is obtained.

It must be allowed that a certain contradiction will remain in any full understanding of the evolution idea in a social movement. We cannot avoid the fact that the sceptical pessimist stands by the side of the light-hearted optimist; that there will always be some who hope for a speedy entrance into the promised land, while others are of the opinion that the march thereto lies through the wilderness and will last long. Hence the differences of position that men take regarding what we call practical reforms. Men who believe that we are about to move into a new building will not be willing to try to improve the old structure; but those who think that the new edifice may be long in rising will be contented to live for a while longer as comfortably as possible in the old structure. This contradiction is in the nature of man. It will continue ineradicable. It is enough for a man to be conscious of its existence.

What we have learned to recognise thus far of ant.i.thesis rests upon essentially different conceptions of the essence of social development or upon different interpretations of one of these conceptions--the evolutionary. Let me now, in a few words, speak of a matter which rests upon the different interpretations--at least when they arise to consciousness--which men place upon the progress and the direction of social development. This contradiction rests upon a variation of ideal, and consequently of programme; and it may be expressed in the ant.i.thesis _democratic or socialistic_. In order to understand properly this most important contradiction, which to-day stands as the central point of discussion and which finds its acutest expression in the exciting "agrarian question," I must remind you of something said heretofore--at that hour when I spoke to you concerning the necessary limitation of the proletarian-socialistic ideal. You remember that there I specified as a necessary condition for the development of socialism as the object of the modern social movement, the previous development of capitalism and with it the impoverishment of the ma.s.ses. There must be a thorough proletarian condition.

But now consider the following. When the proletariat sets up this object upon the basis of its economic conditions of existence, how will the proletariat conduct itself with all those strata of society who have not this same basis of economic existence? What will be the relation of the proletariat to those ma.s.ses who are not yet made proletarian in character--as, for example, the lower middle-cla.s.ses?

And there is a question yet more important--What will be the relation of the proletariat to that part of the people, the _demos_, who cannot possibly ever have a tendency towards becoming proletarian? Here arises the great dilemma, and this is the deep contradiction which comes here to expression: Shall the aim of the proletariat remain essentially and preponderantly proletarian, or shall it become on the whole democratic? And further, if the working-men's party will interest itself in all these component parts of the _demos_, how shall the proletariat conduct itself with them? If there is to be a general democratic "people's party," what then becomes of the proletarian programme? For this is clear: the whole reason for the existence of socialistic agitation, as it is to-day attempted, with the cry of a "need of nature" in the economic development, falls to the ground in the moment when this economic development does not lead to the proletarianisation of the ma.s.ses and to the communisation of the processes of production--to mercantile operations on a large scale. If socialism is postulated upon any other grounds of ethics or expediency, it cannot be "scientific" in the thought of the day. Here, as I believe, lies the justification for the ant.i.thesis "socialistic or democratic." And in the opposition of these two general thoughts, each of which is represented within the social movement, is expressed that deeply lying conflict of which we speak.

How these tendencies will settle themselves we cannot yet clearly see.

I believe that the following considerations may tend towards a clearing of the situation.

The whole strength of the social movement, all chances for the final victory of its ideas, so far as I see, rest upon the fact that it proposes to be the representative of the highest form of economic life at every period of production upon the largest scale. It tries to climb upon the shoulders of the bourgeoisie, who are now the representatives of the most highly developed forms of economy; and it thinks that it will be able to overtop. History teaches us that what we call advance has always been only change to a higher system of economy, and that those cla.s.ses thrive who represent this higher system. Behind capitalism there is no "development"; possibly there may be ahead. The degree of production which has been reached by it must in any case be rivalled by any party that will secure the future for itself. In that is shown, I think, the standard of any advance movement.

If the social democracy is to maintain its historic mission, if it is to be a party of advance, it must avoid compromise with the notoriously declining cla.s.ses, as the hand-workers and other economically low organisations. Even a temporary compact with them is dangerous. It will not be admissible, also, to change the programme and goal of the social movement to suit the middle-cla.s.s elements that have crept in, if that great aim of production upon the largest scale shall be held fast--because we know positively that their hand-work represents in general a low form of economy. But now the other side of the question. If there are spheres in economic life which are not to be subjected to this process of communisation, because the smaller method of business is under the conditions more profitable than the larger,--how about the farmer? That is the whole problem which to-day stands before the social democracy as the "agrarian question." Must the communistic ideal of production on a large scale, and the developed programme connected with it, undergo any essential change as applied to the peasantry? And if a man reaches the conclusion that in agrarian development no tendency to production on a large scale exists, but that here operation on a large scale is not at all the highest form of management, then we see before us the decisive question--Shall we now be democratic in the sense of allowing production on a small scale in this sphere and thus change our programme and desert the communistic ideal; or shall we remain proletarian, hold fast to the communistic ideal and exclude this cla.s.s from our movement? In this case the former decision would not be reactionary, because, in spite of the acceptance of that lower middle-cla.s.s element into the movement, it is not necessary to come down from the level of production that has been reached in the spheres of industry that have been communised.

I have here been obliged to speak doubtfully because thus far, so far as I know, there is no certainty either as to the tendency of development among the agriculturalists or as to the form of management, nor are we certain as to whether any specific form of agrarian production is the superior. But, so far as I see, the Marxian system breaks down on this point; the deductions of Marx are not applicable to the sphere of agriculture without change. He has said much of importance concerning agrarian matters; but his theory of development, which rests upon an a.s.sumption of business upon a large scale and upon the proletarianising of the ma.s.ses, and which necessarily leads to socialism in its development, is only for the sphere of manufactures. It does not apply to agricultural development; and to me it seems that only a scientific investigation will be able to fill the gap which now exists.

Of far-reaching importance, and at this moment of pressing interest, are two points which I would present in conclusion. I mean the att.i.tude of the social movement towards religion and towards nationality. Because here personal feeling and temperament may easily interfere with the clear vision of the observer, it is doubly necessary to divest oneself of all pa.s.sion and to deal with these problems objectively. Let us make the attempt. Leaving out of consideration the English working-man, who to-day, as a generation ago, seems to oscillate between pietism and positivism, and who on this point cannot be considered typical because of the well-known peculiar conditions of his development, the proletarian movement doubtless is strongly anti-religious. How comes this?

So far as I see, the opposition to religion comes from two different sources: it has a "theoretical" and a "practical" origin.

Theoretically the proletariat and its leaders have become heirs of the liberal "age of illumination." Out of a superficial study of natural sciences have sprung all these anti-religious writings of the years 1860-1880 which in an intoxication of joy announced the first recognition of the atheistic dogma to the world. These writers never rose above the level of "itinerant preachers of materialism," and they have never reached to the level of the Marx-Engels conception of life.

The platform of this dogmatic atheism may be considered to-day as entirely something of the past. There is no earnest representative of science anywhere who to-day dares to a.s.sert that science means atheism and excludes religion. Thus the att.i.tude of the proletariat towards religion would be entirely free and independent if the ground of its irreligion were merely a theoretic and misleading incursion into the dogmatism of natural science. But the enmity to religion has much deeper grounds. Not only has an enthusiasm for scientific materialism taken hold of the proletariat with special force; but also the enthusiasm for unbelief has been helped greatly in its development by the instinctive feeling, or the clear consciousness, that in the materialistic conception of the world lies the germ of a mighty revolutionary force, well suited to drive authority from all spheres of life. What wonder that the proletariat took hold of it as a useful weapon for the strife; for, as we know, one of the conditions of the very existence of the proletariat lies in a tearing asunder of all the old points of faith. Thus the predilection for materialism and atheism is well explained.

And now consider that the acceptance of this dogma betokens a protest against the Christian system of thought, which the working man must look upon as inimical because represented by the ruling cla.s.ses and used in their interests. For there can be no doubt that, in an overwhelming majority of cases, official Christianity has been used by the ruling cla.s.ses against the movement for the emanc.i.p.ation of the proletariat. The fate that falls upon heretical Christians is the best proof of this. So long as men try to support monarchy and capitalism as a necessary and Divine inst.i.tution, using the Christian Church for this purpose, the social movement must become anti-ecclesiastical and thus anti-religious. Thus a mistrust as to the position, in the social struggle, of the official representatives of the Church estranges the proletariat from this Church and thus from religion. In the moment that this mistrust is removed--and you all know that the new Christian-socialists, especially in Germany, have taken this as their task,--in the moment when Christianity is presented either as unpartisan in its social influence, as Goehre preaches it, or as directly social-democratic, as Naumann presents it,--in that moment, so far as I see, there will be no reason why the proletariat should maintain an anti-religious character.

In saying this, of course, I a.s.sume that religion is adapted to the needs of the proletariat. Whether or not Christianity possesses this adaptability, I do not dare to say. But that it is thus adapted would seem to be indicated by the fact that it became the religion of Rome in its decadence and of the German tribes in the youthful freshness of their civilisation, of feudalism as well as of those stages of civilisation in which the free cities and later the bourgeoisie have had predominance. Then why may it not also be the religion of the proletariat? But it must be presented to the lower cla.s.ses with all of the joy of life of which Christianity is capable. For the element of asceticism in Christianity pleases little these cla.s.ses, which press towards air and light and which do not show any inclination to allow the good things of life to be taken from them.

As if overhung with thick clouds of pa.s.sion, appears now the question as to the att.i.tude of the social movement towards nationality. A great part of the heated discussion on this point, as it seems to me, is due to lack of clearness in thought. It is not so much our German language, as it is our German instinct, that distinguishes between two ideas, rightly but not always sharply separated; we are accustomed to specify them as _patriotism_ and _nationalism_.

Patriotism, the love of the Fatherland, is indeed a feeling that unconsciously and without effort is held fast in our hearts, and exists therein like love of home and of family. It is an aggregation of impressions, of memories, over which we have no control. It is that indefinable power exercised upon our souls by the sound of the mother tongue, by the harmony of the national song, by many peculiar customs and usages, by the whole history and poetry of the home land. It is that feeling which comes to its fulness only in a strange land, and presses as truly upon the soul of the exiled revolutionist as upon that of the peaceful citizen. I cannot see why this should be the heritage of a particular cla.s.s. It is a foolish idea that such a feeling may, or can, die out in the great ma.s.ses of men, so long as there are lands and peoples with their own languages and songs.

Quite different is nationalism--the intelligent presentation, if I may so express it, of national opinion, especially in opposition and enmity to other nations. The modern proletariat does not simply refuse to share this feeling; it actually fights against it.

Here again we meet the same fact that we observed before in connection with the att.i.tude of the proletariat towards religion; they identify the idea of "nationalism" with the ruling cla.s.ses, and as enemies of the representatives of the idea they turn their hatred against the idea itself. Especially is this so because, in many lands, it is not made easy for the rising working-men's movement to identify itself with the official representatives of the nation; hate, persecution, repression, are not suitable means to arouse pride in that national structure in which the working men must live together with those from whom all this evil proceeds. At the same time a friendly hand is reached over the national boundary-line by the proletariat of a strange and unfriendly land, by companions in suffering, with similar interests and efforts. Truly it is no wonder that the modern proletariat generally becomes imbued with an anti-national, an international, tendency.

But I hold it to be quite wrong to justify an anti-national theory by this impulsive anti-nationalism. I see in the essence of modern socialism no reason for such an idea. I have explicitly pointed out to you the tendency towards an international understanding and unity on the part of the proletariat. But that is only an artificial abolition of national barriers. Only one who chases after the phantom of a world republic will be able to imagine a social development outside of national limitations. A man will hardly venture to prophesy with certainty, even for only a short time, as to when the social contradictions within a nation shall rival those points of difference at present existing between nations. But it must be clear even to the short-sighted that, so far as we can see, an energetic upholding of national interests can never be entirely unnecessary.

Even if in Western Europe the differences between nations should be so far obviated that only social questions remain in the field, I believe that we could never a.s.sume that this Western European civilisation can pursue its course undisturbed and without the admixture of other elements. We must never forget that, as a result of modern means of communication, not only Russian civilisation threatens that of Western Europe, but even the Asiatic more and more strongly presses upon us.

The development in Asia which we have seen in the course of the last decade, the rapid advancement of j.a.pan, and now the attempt of China to enter civilisation in order to nibble at the fruits of commerce and to grow out of its narrow circle--this development will doubtless take a course which must of necessity lead to new international complications. I believe that the moment will come when European society as a whole will say to itself: All our mutual differences are of no importance as compared with that which threatens us from this enemy. As an indication of this see the att.i.tude of America towards Asiatic development. There is a case in which the "internationalism"

of the proletariat is simply thrown aside; and this would be the case also among the proletariat of Western Europe, if the coolies should begin to swarm over us like rats. An artificial sympathy with the most downtrodden people would prove too weak to restrain a sound national self-interest. So soon as a common enemy threatens the existence of a society it becomes again conscious of its economic interests and rallies to their support; and in the meantime its internal differences are forgotten.

Thus there can be no talk of an essential repudiation of nationalism on the part of the proletariat throughout the world. Discussion of the question concerns only a circle of kindred nations to which one does not want to see the principle of anti-nationalism applied. How such national groups are const.i.tuted is a question which it is not necessary for us here to determine, as I desire only to present the essential point in the national problem. You see that, with this discussion, I complete the circle of my thought, and return to that with which I began--the idea that there is, and apparently always will be, an ant.i.thesis around which, as around poles, human history circles, the social and the national. That is something which the proletariat should never forget.

CHAPTER VIII

LESSONS

"???e?? pat?? p??t??"

War is the father of all things.

Can we draw lessons from this historical review of the social movement? I think we can, on many points; to show you what these lessons are will be my effort in this last lecture. Perhaps I may exert some influence upon the judgment of those who personally stand outside of the present social strife and desire to be merely pa.s.sionless observers. And I shall be glad if, here and there among those actively engaged in the struggle, some shall be found who will recognise the justice of what I may say.

It seems to me that the first impression to be made upon anyone by quiet observation of the social movement must be that it is necessary and unavoidable. As a mountain torrent, after a thunder-storm, must dash down into the valley according to "iron, unchangeable law," so must the stream of social agitation pour itself onward. This is the first thing for us to understand, that something of great and historic importance is developing before our eyes; to recognise "that in all that happens and is accomplished in connection with this movement we are in the midst of a great process of world history which with elementary force takes hold of individuals and even nations, and concerning which it is as wrong short-sightedly to deny the fact as inadequately to struggle against it." (Lorenz von Stein.) Probably there are some who believe that the social movement is merely the malicious work of a few agitators, or that the social democracy has been "brought up by Bismarck," and the like; probably there are some who naturally are forced to the false idea that some medicine or charm can drive away this fatal poison out of the social body. What a delusion! What a lack of intelligence and insight as to the nature of all social history! If anything has resulted from my investigation I hope it is this--a recognition of the historic necessity of the social movement.

But we must advance to a further admission--that the modern social movement, at least in its main features, exists necessarily as it is.

Among these main features I include the object that it sets before itself, the socialistic ideal; also the means which it chooses for the accomplishment of this ideal,--cla.s.s strife. I have already attempted to show you why these points must be allowed as the necessary result of existing conditions.

Now shall we who do not stand in the ranks of those who struggle for the new social order, shall we who only tremble for the permanence of that which seems to us necessary for the upholding of our civilisation--shall we be greatly pained and troubled at the present condition of things as thus shown?

I think it hardly necessary to excite ourselves over the "dangers" of any socialistic order of society in the future. We who know that all social order is only the expression of specific economic relations can face what comes with indifference; so long as these arrangements of economic life are not given up, especially so long as the character of the persons involved, is not completely changed, no power on earth, no party--be it ever so revolutionary--can succeed in establis.h.i.+ng a new social order for humanity. And if these conditions are at any time fulfilled--then will be the time to look further.

But it is not this socialistic ideal of the future that princ.i.p.ally causes anxiety to so many men. It is rather the form in which this ideal is striven for; it is that word of terror, uttered by Philistines both male and female--cla.s.s strife.

I must acknowledge that for me this idea has in it nothing at all terrible, rather the opposite. Is it really true that, even if strife rules throughout society, man must give up entirely the hope of a further and successful development of humanity? Is it really true that all culture, all the n.o.blest acquirements of the race, are endangered by that strife?

First let me dispel the delusion that "cla.s.s strife" is identical with civil war, with petroleum, dynamite, the stiletto, and the barricades.

The forms of cla.s.s strife are many. Every trade union, every social-democratic election, every strike, is a manifestation of this strife. And it seems to me that such internal struggle, such conflict of different interests and ideas, is not only without danger to our civilisation, but on the contrary will be the source of much that is desirable. I think that the old proverb is true as applied even to social strife, "???e?? pat?? p??t??" It is only through struggle that the most beautiful flowers of human existence bloom. It is only struggle that raises the great ma.s.ses of the common people to a higher level of humanity. Whatever of culture is now forced upon the ma.s.ses comes to them through struggle; the only warrant for the hope that they can be developed into new and higher forms of culture lies in the fact that they must rise through their efforts, that step by step they must fight for their rights. It is struggle alone that builds character and arouses enthusiasm, for nations as for cla.s.ses. Let me remind you of a beautiful saying of Kant's, that expresses the same thought: "Thanks to nature for intolerance, for envious and emulous self-seeking, for the insatiable desire to have and to rule! Without this, all the desirable qualities of humanity would lie eternally undeveloped. Man wants peace, but Nature knows better what is necessary for him; she wants strife."

And why lose courage, as we see that even in social life struggle is the solution? To me this seems no reason for despair. I rejoice in this law of the history of the world; that is a happy view of life which makes struggle as the central point of existence.

But we should never forget that as conflict is the developer of what is good, so it may also be the disturber and destroyer of all civilisation. It does not lead only and by necessity to a higher life, it is not necessarily the beginning of a new culture: it can also betoken the end of the old, and of all, human existence.

For this reason I think that we should never lose sight of two great ideas in this strife.

First, all social struggle should be determinedly within legal bounds.

Thus only can the sanct.i.ty of the idea of right remain uninjured.

Without this we plunge into chaos. Man must struggle in the name of right against that which he considers wrong, upon the basis of existing right. Man must respect this right because it has become right, and pa.s.ses for such; and he must not forget that our fathers struggled not less intensely for that right which to-day we hold, and have had in heart not less enthusiasm than their sons for the right of the future. Only thus can a man awaken and sustain faith in that which at some future time shall be right.

This exhortation addresses itself in like manner to both parties in the struggle; to those who are now in power, not less than to those who are carrying on the social agitation. _Intra muros peccatur et extra!_ There is sin within, as without, the walls.

The same is true of a second demand, which must be developed in the name of culture and humanity within these struggling parties, if the social strife is not to be a war of extermination. It must be carried on with proper weapons, not with poisoned arrows. How greatly have both sides been to blame in this respect! How difficult it is to keep out of the battle on the one side bitterness, mendacity, malice; on the other side brutality, derision, violence! How readily does the one opponent charge dishonour or bad motive against the other! How repellent, how offensive, too often, is the tone in which opinion is expressed! Must that be? Is that necessary for energetic a.s.sertion of one's standpoint? Does a man think that he loses anything by conceding that his opponent is an honourable man and by a.s.suming that truth and honour will control in the dealings of his adversary? I do not think so. The man who places himself really in the struggle, who sees that in all historic strife is the germ of whatever occurs, should be able easily to conduct this strife in a n.o.ble way, to respect his opponent as a man, and to attribute to him motives no less pure than his own.

Then is not the social struggle, according to this idea of it, as necessary as a thunder-storm in a heavy atmosphere? He who sees in the struggle something artificial, produced by bad men, may perhaps attribute to the creator of the disturbance bad motives for this knavery, for this frivolous and malicious upsetting of social rest.

But he who understands that the struggle arises necessarily out of the const.i.tution of social life, and that it is only a warfare between two great principles, each of which has been, and must be, const.i.tuted by a combination of objective circ.u.mstances--he who looks at differences of idea as to the world and life which arise from the fact of different standpoints and which are the necessary occasion of differences in conditions of life--this one will come to the conviction that even his opponent stands on much the same grounds as he himself; that not personal baseness, but the compelling force of fate, has placed him in a position such that he must be an opponent.

Then will it be easy, I think, to respect the other man, to refrain from suspicion and contempt, to battle with him openly and honourably.

Shall we extol the Geneva Convention, which humanised warfare, as a fruit of advanced culture; and yet within our kingdom, like barbarians, without any consideration for the opponent, fly one upon another with dishonourable weapons?

In this the development of English social agitation can serve as a model. It points out to us how men may conduct in social life a moral and civilised warfare. Even upon the Continent, I hope, will the more humane form of struggle reach acceptance, if only because it springs of necessity from a deeper conception of what cla.s.s strife really is.

So long as the battle rages legally and honourably, we need not worry about the future of our civilisation.