French and German Socialism in Modern Times. Richard T. Ely
never spoken.” On the next page communism is spoken of as “infecting” the Russian universities. “Now,” continues our author, “it poisons the blood and maddens the brains of artisans and peasants.” Such words do more than excite the anger of socialists. They arouse the indignation of every lover of fair play, and convince no one. I take up another work and find that a very different effect is produced on me as I read it. A kindly tone pervades it, which, if it does not convince error, tends at least to obtain the good-will of those whom it combats. This latter work to which I refer consists of “Lectures on Social Questions,” and was written by the Rev. Dr. J. H. Rylance, of St. Mark’s Church, New York, a large-hearted, fair-minded man.
Once for all, we must rid ourselves of the notion that we can persuade people by misrepresenting them and calling them hard names. Such conduct only reacts against ourselves. The folly of such a course has been demonstrated often enough by the history of socialism. A striking instance is given by Mehring in his “History of Social Democracy in Germany” (pp. 96–98).[10] It appears that a large number of working-men’s unions had formed an alliance (Verband deutscher Arbeitervereine), of which the Party of Progress (Fortschrittspartei) had assumed the leadership. This is a political party which was violently opposed to Lassalle, and had considerable sympathy with the doctrines of the Manchester school. When Lassalle began his agitation, the leaders of this party misrepresented his doctrines in shameful manner. It hardly seems as if their misrepresentation could have been otherwise than wilful. They appeared to believe that the end justified the means in fighting so odious an opponent, and that they were not required to treat him fairly and honestly. Well, their programme worked brilliantly for a time. At the meetings of these working-men’s unions members of the Party of Progress used to explain the doctrines of Lassalle in such manner as to place them in a false light, and then let the laborers reject his plans by unanimous votes. Union after union voted against him, and in the summer of 1863 these unions, at their annual meeting, professed the principles of the Progressists, and selected a newspaper edited by a member of that party as their organ. In 1864, at the general meeting of the unions, some followers of Lassalle contradicted the misstatements of the teachings of their master. This produced an effect, and Friedrich A. Lange, who had been elected a member of one of the committees of the alliance of the unions, warned the Progressists against the course they were pursuing, and advocated the fairer, more honorable, and more manly method of warfare. He told them that a reaction would surely set in against themselves, when the laborers heard an adequate statement of Lassalle’s plans, especially if they were presented in his own fiery, eloquent words. But Lange’s earnest warnings were unheeded. The laborers learned how to reply to a fictitious, non-existent Lassalle, but not to the real, living one. Every annual meeting of the working-men’s unions witnessed, accordingly, an approach to social democracy until 1869, when it was accepted without reserve, and the alliance of working-men’s unions was merged into the Social Democratic Working-men’s Party (Social-demokratische Arbeiterpartei). As Mehring forcibly observes: “It is, indeed, a singular misfortune, and manifests a rare lack of tact, to lead to the enemy as welcome auxiliaries not merely single recruits, but entire army corps” (p. 98). Thousands of laborers might have been saved from social democracy if its opponents, in fighting it, had adhered to the maxim, “Honesty is the best policy.” In fact, Mehring attributes the success and popularity of Lassalle more to his enemies than to his own brilliant talents. Falsehoods respecting his teachings were uttered by his opponents without compunction of conscience, and these, when exposed, only gave the laborers new confidence in Lasalle, and less faith than ever in his enemies. Newspapers abused him personally in such manner as to assist him in playing the rôle of a martyr and hero. They spoke of his unripe spirit and of his mental dependence upon a tailor by the name of Weitling, at a time when the most renowned scholars of Germany could not find words with which to express their almost unbounded admiration for his learning and talent.
As I wish to represent communism and socialism fairly, I will at once correct a few popular errors in regard to them.
First, then, it is supposed that advocates of these systems are poor, worthless fellows, who adopt the arts of a demagogue for the promotion in some way of their own interests, perhaps in order to gain a livelihood by agitating laborers and preying upon them. It is thought that they are moved by envy of the wealthier classes, and, themselves unwilling to work, long for the products of diligence and ability. This view is represented by the following well-known lines:
“What is a communist? One who hath yearnings
For equal division of unequal earnings;
Idler or bungler, or both, he is willing
To fork out his penny and pocket your shilling.”
This is certainly a false and unjust view. The leading communists and socialists from the time of Plato up to the present have been, for the most part, men of character, wealth, talent, and high social standing. Of Plato it is unnecessary to speak, since people are not in the habit of calling him a shallow demagogue. Sir Thomas More, the author of the communistic romance “Utopia,” was lovable, learned, and socially honored. Robert Owen, the English communist, was a wealthy manufacturer and a distinguished philanthropist. Of Rodbertus, Marx, and Lassalle I shall speak presently. If we examine the history of even those who are less known among the German social democrats of to-day, we shall discover that a great number have made sacrifices for their faith. Hunted about and persecuted as they are, it is assuredly no light matter to proclaim one’s self a social democrat. While, of course, among communists and socialists, selfishness, meanness, and enough that is contemptible may be found, I do not believe any movement of modern society is able to exhibit a greater amount of unselfish devotion than that they represent.
A second charge against the communists consists in making them responsible for the doings of the Parisian mob in 1871. The error of this has been explained often enough. It is due largely to an accidental resemblance between the words commune and communism. Many who use the word commune glibly have a very imperfect understanding of its significance, and little imagine that it is as harmless and innocent a word as township, and means pretty much the same thing. The commune, with an emphasis on the article, means simply Paris, or, in a secondary sense, the administrative officers collectively governing Paris. France is divided into departments and communes, the same as our states are divided into counties and townships, and Paris by itself forms one of these communes. The insurrection in Paris, of March 18, 1871, was one in favor of extreme local self-government. The idea was to make each commune at least as independent as one of the states of the United States, and to unite all the communes into a confederation with limited powers.[11] The movement in favor of the autonomy of Paris is an old one, and has been supported by many able and respectable Frenchmen. One in favor of the movement is, however, properly called a communalist, and not a communist, and the movement itself is communalism—not communism. A careful study of the decrees of the commune, of the reports and of the various histories which have described its rebellion in 1871, shows that the movement was political, primarily, and only to a very limited extent economic. Even the economic decrees, like the stay-laws, postponing the time for payment of debts due, might be regarded as war measures. However, out of the seventy and more members of the communal government nine or ten were social democrats and members of the International, and it is probable that concessions may have been made to win them and their adherents. They were effectual in this, since the Internationalists were disposed to favor the movement from the start, and that for two reasons. First, believing that their ends can be attained only by revolution, they are inclined to look favorably upon any revolution whatever, as tending to cultivate a revolutionary spirit in the people. Second, they favor the autonomy of large cities, holding that the masses in the cities might more readily be induced to adopt communistic and socialistic reforms, if not held in check by the more conservative rural population.[12]
But let us ask ourselves this question: If all the members of the communal government had been communists in the ordinary sense of the word, would communism have been necessarily condemned? I think that another question will help us to answer this. All the members of that government were republicans: was republicanism then necessarily condemned? No one but a rabid tory would think of giving an affirmative answer to this second question. It is at once seen that the republican form of government is not responsible for the conduct of every