Chapter VII: Tendencies of the Present

"Usually a man refuses to dismiss the fool that he carries
within, and to admit any great mistake, or to acknowledge any
truth that brings him to despair."

GOETHE, _Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship_.

Who, caring at all about what is going on in these days, has not noticed the many contradictions which are now apparent in the great social movement? Even the inexperienced observer, or he who stands too near to real life to have free and wide outlook, will easily see behind these contradictions a tendency towards a unity of effort. Now that we have obtained a right understanding of this we shall, I hope, do justice to these differences, these contradictions--we shall be able to comprehend them in their essence and necessity.

The sources out of which they spring are as numerous as the contradictions themselves. How often a personal motive can, under certain circumstances, appear as an essential difference! Morbid self-conceit, desire for power, quarrelsomeness, caprice, malevolence, lack of honour--innumerable traits of character give occasion for friction and contention.

But for these the social theorist cares nothing. Only that is of importance to him which rests upon an essential difference. And of these also there are enough, because the causes of them are numerous. What is here decisive is the variation in the view of world and life, is the difference of national character, is the varying degree of vision into the essence of social development or of understanding concerning accepted principles, is the varying measure of ripeness and education of the masses, is the difference in economic development in the various lands, etc.

But I cannot possibly exhaust the points of contradiction and strife which arise out of these manifold and effective causes. I shall here simply present certain matters which seem to me especially important because essentially significant. My duty as to this problem can be, again, only that of a theorist who tries to make a clear explanation, who desires not to work upon your will but upon your intelligence, who does not carry in his hand the brand of agitation but the lamp of illumination.

If I do not pay attention to some points of difference which may seem to you of supreme importance, it is not because I do not myself recognise this importance, but because I suppose the contradiction that comes to expression in them to be either out of date or only imaginary, or because I go back of them to the deeper, essential differences. Thus, for example, the alternative, _trade unions_ or _a working-men's party_, is either the expression of a deeper opposition concerning which I shall later speak, or it is a question that does not concern us in these days. Thus concerning all those representatives of the working-men's movement who place themselves upon the platform of legal struggle. These men know that politics and trade unions are like the right and left legs upon which the proletariat marches; that political part-taking is needed in order to obtain influence upon legislation; that economic organisation is needed in order to discipline and educate the masses. The only question can be now as to the degree, the more or less, of the one or the other form of social agitation;--always within the limits of legal agitation on the part of the working men. Any such question cannot be general; it must be decided separately in each place and case. The economic ripeness of the masses, the degree of political freedom, and much else, must decide.

In a similar way is another point of difference to be judged; shall there be an independent working-men's party or not? You know, I have already spoken to you a number of times concerning this, saying that in England thus far there has been practically no independent working-men's party; I have given to you the reasons why, as it seems to me, any such party has been until now at least unnecessary, even if the working men desired to busy themselves in political matters. The political influence of the social movement is not dependent upon the existence of an independent party of working men. Even that question is not a general one; it must be decided according to local circumstances.

If we ask now for antitheses of real importance, we are met first and especially, to-day, by that sufficiently explained opposition which is contained in the words _revolution_ or _evolution_, the old point of discussion which was, is, and I believe will be, a constant feature of social agitation; that point of separation which we traced first in the "International," and which to-day we see revived in the opposition of the so-called "Junger" and the anarchists against the majority of organised labour. The reasons on account of which I think that also in the future this discussion will not cease are as follows. Revolutionism is, as I have shown you, a manifestation of unripeness. A man can, in a certain sense, assert that the social movement begins anew every moment; for every day new masses arise out of the lower strata of the proletariat yet living in stupid unconsciousness, and they attach themselves to the social movement. These unschooled elements, of course, in their part-taking show the characteristics of the social movement itself in its beginnings. They find their natural leaders in the disinherited citizens of the day, like Catiline of old, mostly young men who have nothing to lose and who try to substitute a fiery enthusiasm for theoretic insight and practical judgment. The process which we have watched for a decade is one which must ever again be repeated; the maturer elements are absorbed and disappear, new hordes of revolutionists arise, and the process of absorption by the riper, evolutionary, elements begins anew. Thus we see two opposing phases of the development of social agitation that play their part at the same time in different spheres of the proletariat. So far as can be seen, there has been thus far an uninterrupted progress in the absorption of the unripe revolutionary elements by the evolutionists.

But even here, where the idea of evolution, consciously or unconsciously, obtains recognition as the basis of the social movement, we meet questions, many of which, as it seems to me, arise because of a false conception of the essence of social evolution.

Although I have had opportunity at different times to show what social evolution is, at least in a general way, let me here repeat concisely what I understand by this idea; for a right comprehension of this point is all-important. Social evolution, and the conception of the social movement as such an evolution, rest upon the thought that we find ourselves in a continued condition of economic and thus social change, and that specific social interests and the necessary relations of mastery are connected with each change; thus in proportion as the evolution proceeds and as the activities of the interested groups develop, the balance of power becomes displaced, with the result that the ruling classes are slowly replaced by other classes that reach control. Here also lies at bottom the thought that the division of power at any given time is truly the expression of economic relations, and is no merely accidental and artificial work; that this power can only be displaced gradually, and only as the economic relations are changed, and as at the same time the personal and subjective conditions and the characteristics of the aspiring classes are developed. In a word, social evolution is a gradual achievement of power, the creation of a new condition of society, corresponding to the overthrow of economic relations and the transformation and schooling of character.

Among the evolutionists differences have emerged owing to a confusion of the terms "quietism" and "evolution." Especially among the Marxists has the thought spread, that evolution is so entirely a process of nature, independent of human activity, that the individual must let his hands rest in his lap and must wait until the ripened fruit drops. This quietist and, as I believe, pseudo-Marxist idea has no real connection with the inner thought of evolution. Its fundamental mistake lies in the fact that all the occurrences in social life are carried out by living men, and that men complete the process of development by placing aims before themselves and by striving to realise these aims.

The standpoints of the social theorist and of him who deals practically in social life are entirely different; but men constantly interchange the two. For the theorist, social development is a necessary sequence of cause and effect, as he sees it in the shaping of life compulsorily by the motives of the persons involved; and these motives themselves he tries to understand in their limitations. For him social life is a process rather of the past. But for the man who deals practically in social life, it lies in the future. What the theorist understands as the working of specified causes is, to the practical man, an object lying in the future which his will should help to accomplish. This very will is a necessary element in the causation of social happening. And this will, conditioned as it may be, is the highest personal possession of man in action. As the social theorist seeks to show as necessary specific tendencies of the will, and with them specific developments of the social life, he can do this with the self-evident limitation that the energy of the practical man in creating and accomplishing these efforts of the will does not fail. If for any reason, for example through the pressure of quietistic sentiment, this energy should be lessened, the most important link in the assumed chain of causes would drop out, and the development would take an entirely different course. It is a great mistake to apply unqualifiedly to social life the idea of a process in accordance with natural law; for example, to say that socialism must come by a "necessity of nature." Socialism has nothing to do with any such necessity. Thus, for example, we cannot see why the development of capitalism should not lead just as well to the overthrow of modern culture. And it must surely take this course if the leaders of advance do not develop during the transformation of the social life the necessary qualities for a new order of society, if they allow themselves to sink into a marasmus or quietism. For them, all social happening is only a condition to be created: and in order to accomplish this in the future they need an energy of resolution.

In close connection with the point of which we have just spoken stands another matter, which also in the last analysis depends upon a right understanding of the essence of social evolution. I refer to the confusion of "ideal" and "programme"--the substitution of politics for idealism. I mean this: superficial evolutionists, especially in the ranks of the Marxists, are inclined to look with supreme contempt upon idealists and enthusiasts, and to rest only upon practical politics; they emphasise the rational to the exclusion of the ideal. That is a conception which does not at all harmonise with the real meaning of evolution. For evolution wants its highest social ideals to be realised, but these are founded only upon postulates essentially ethical. To realise these ideals it is necessary to become inspired, to kindle a heart's glow, to develop a fire of enthusiasm. The warming sun must shed its beams, if all is not to go under and become darkened--with danger of the annihilation of all life. The word of the dying St. Simon, with which he took departure from his favourite scholar Rodriguez, is eternally true: "Never forget, my friend, that a man must have enthusiasm in order to accomplish great things." When this idealism and enthusiasm disappear from a movement, when its impetus is lost, when it passes into a littleness of opportunism, into an emptiness of small politics, it dies like a body without life. And it is certainly one of the most unpleasant traits of many of the modern representatives of the proletarian movement, that in the dusty atmosphere of common politics they have lost their enthusiasm and have sunk to the level of political malcontents.

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 antithesis 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 antithesis _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 masses. 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 masses who are not yet made proletarian in character--as, for example, the lower middle-classes? 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 masses 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 antithesis "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 classes 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 classes, 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-class 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 class from our movement? In this case the former decision would not be reactionary, because, in spite of the acceptance of that lower middle-class 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 assumption of business upon a large scale and upon the proletarianising of the masses, 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 attitude 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 passion 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 assert that science means atheism and excludes religion. Thus the attitude 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 classes 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 classes against the movement for the emancipation 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 institution, 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 assume 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 classes with all of the joy of life of which Christianity is capable. For the element of asceticism in Christianity pleases little these classes, 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 passion, appears now the question as to the attitude 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 class. It is a foolish idea that such a feeling may, or can, die out in the great masses 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 attitude of the proletariat towards religion; they identify the idea of "nationalism" with the ruling classes, 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 assume 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 Japan, 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 attitude 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 constituted 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 antithesis around which, as around poles, human history circles, the social and the national. That is something which the proletariat should never forget.