Sunlight. (1922)

From the December 1922 issue of the Socialist Standard

You know, fellow-workers, that we live in a democratic age. The great ones of the earth walk without ceremony amongst men. You have perhaps heard, and in part believed, how the Prince of Wales at the Royal Garden Party did not wear, but merely carried his gloves ; how the Queen permitted two amateurs to take her photograph, and Prince George laughed at a Punch and Judy show. It may be, too, that at your annual beano you have rubbed shoulders with that aristocracy of wealth which, except at these hallowed seasons, you apprehend but dimly as the beneficent power that feeds, clothes, and shelters you —sometimes; have been privileged to return a respectful answer to a man-to-man query, and to cheer when the gentry departed in its car. But with all this I wonder if you quite realise how democratic we have grown? Do you know that several thousands of our brothers in toil, by the scheme of co-partnership which operates at Port Sunlight, are knit with both the plutocracy and the royal family—united in the exalted purpose of serving human need and a pressing need at that—soap! Well, they are.

“The Marquis of Carisbrooke” (the Star told us one evening), “eldest son of Princess Beatrice and cousin to the King, has joined the Board of Lever Brothers, Limited. . . It is not generally known that many members of the Royal Family have very substantial holdings in Lever Brothers.” Now then !

See what advantage there is in being born in the era of capitalism. Formerly you might as well have sought admission to the circle of seraphim as to the royal circle. There are records of such things, of course, but the terms were much harder: wounds, hunger, and more than a sporting chance of death. You remember Henry the Fifth’s words to his army :

  “For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition.”

But nowadays, bless you, you have only to get a job at Port Sunlight, and you automatically become a partaker in glory, although, as our friend Uriah would say, “only a very ‘umble one.”

Oh, the ennobled ones appreciate the honour ! Indeed yes ; and some other things even more than the honour. For example, there was an enthusiastic meeting in July of the ‘umble partners of Lever Bros., to hear presented by Lord Leverhulme a new scheme of benefits intended to be introduced on October 1st. The arrangement, briefly, provides half-pay when there is no work, the same during four weeks of sickness or longer at the discretion of the company, and a free life insurance. And the Star, reporting, and rubbing its hands over the excellence of the scheme, declared: “Labour and capital together can produce the means for these and greater benefits if we can once eliminate the theory that they are antagonistic. Pulling together they could make the whole world one huge Port Sunlight.”

Be sure they could ! One slight alteration will render the Star quite correct. For “eliminate the theory” you must read “disguise the fact”; for the theory of the class-war has a way of realising itself in everyday experience. With this reservation, its truth is evident. Given the present great and potential greater productivity of labour; if the capitalist will only be a little patient for his dividends, and the worker will overcome his foolish prejudice against going on half-rations during sickness and slack trade, the thing is done. You can have a docile and industrious proletariat, a rich and unharassed master-class, an absence of trade disputes, a smoothly, running industrial machine; in short, an ideal capitalist world—a huge Port Sunlight.

And if that is what you want, fellow-workers, well and good. But—I wonder just why you should select for yourselves a life of labour and for your co-partners a life of ease: for yourselves a modest level of comfort and culture, for them the utmost of luxury: for you the cheap cap and the ready-made suit, for them the silk hat and the coronet. In what does Leverhulme or Carisbrooke differ from you? They look much like you; sleeker, perhaps, but not so handsome as many a workman at Port Sunlight. Can they be more brainy than the men who planned the factories and designed the plant? Put them down in the wilderness : could they any better than you preserve and provide for themselves? Only by virtue of one advantage do they enjoy the best of what the partnership produces: they are the owners of the factories, of the machines, of the product. Such a collaboration resembles that of the fox and the wolf. You recall the wolf’s daily chant? “Red Fox, get me something to eat, or I will eat you.” But the fox had an eye to his own interest. When the opportunity came he took it—and good-bye wolf; whereas Lord Leverhulme’s scheme, the Evening Standard tells us, was “enthusiastically adopted.” Ah, but the wolf was less wise than Leverhulme. Instead of “Get me something to eat or I will eat you,” he should have said: “Brother fox, little partner, to provide you with meals is the first aim of our enterprise. I am the director of it. Feed me well, therefore, that I may the better discharge my beneficent mission.” He might then have been able, like Leverhulme, to say: “I have always had the good fortune to be supported.”

Here the prince of soap, candles, margarine, fish, and several other things, may certainly congratulate himself: for without: the support of the employees of his many companies, he would stand no higher than they stand themselves. Their support it is that has lifted him above them, placed him in luxury and increased his power. “I was supported,” he tells us, “by a sweet lady who consented to be my wife . . . all through her life she supported me. I am now supported by my son and my colleagues on the board.”

Excellent, my lord: and you, your amiable wife, your son, and your colleagues (royalty included), have all been supported by whom? . . . The pillars of the glittering edifice are they from whose profitable labour your fortunes are drawn. Fifty years ago you were able to gather your father’s whole staff in the room above his grocery shop in Bolton. From that gathering to this at Port Sunlight in July last, your career is a business romance ; and what has been your rôle in it all ? You have been the bringer together of human labour power and means of production: you have also been the appropriator of the product. To your employees you have allotted, first, the cost of their keep and reproduction, that you may have a plentiful supply of workers always at call; second, a fraction of your profits, that they may have an interest in keeping them high; and now such provisions as, making away to some extent with the insecurity of their modest livelihood, shall further bind them to you in content and loyalty. The first for your own sake you must do; for the two last the resulting high level of production amply recompenses you. In this you are the type of the far-seeing capitalist.

In so far as you have personally directed your concerns, you have done useful work, you have produced value: but you will not pretend that your fortune represents the value of your services alone. It has been built by the unpaid labour of those whom you employ. The worker may not blame you. So long as we leave the organisation of production in private hands, we can look for no other kind of co-partnership. But we are slowly learning that the “captain of industry” can do nothing which we cannot do better ourselves. A little while now, and “Sceptre and crown will tumble down,” and many an immaculate “topper” with them. When that day comes, my lord, directive genius will be used in the service of the people, and rewarded by the people, not allowed as yours is to-day, to reward itself. Make the most of your time !

A.

Blogger's Note:

I'm not sure why but I still just sign these articles as 'A.' (as they appeared in the Socialist Standard) when it is plainly obvious now that 'A.' was Alex Anderson. I do now have Anderson included in the labels and when I'm not such a lazy git, I will at some point go through all the 'A' articles and relabel/re-sign them as Alex Anderson. He should be properly remembered. 

A Word on Organisation. (1922)

From the October 1922 issue of the Socialist Standard

An organ is something that works. Or­ganisation is the assembling and arranging of the parts of a compound body in a manner for use; that is to say, that each part may co-operate with the others to a given end, the whole working as one organ. A tree, with its multitude of diverse cells, is an example of exquisite organisation.

In the same way, when men and women organise themselves they are proceeding to work together, with an agreed objective. They are forming a single body, of which each individual is a part; and should any part deviate to pursue some different plan, the advance of the whole will be hindered by just so much. The body may be very small, or it may be immense; the same remains true.

When a man joins a party, therefore, he automatically proclaims himself as in agreement with its declared aims. No amount of disclaimer or qualification does away with this fact. The outsider assumes, and is justified in assuming, that the aims of the party represent his ideas. The members expect, and have a right to expect, that he will conform at all points to its principles. Why else is he there? If, once admitted, he proceeds to advocate principles which do not agree with those of the party, the members will only act consistently in expelling him. The inside of the party is not the place for such an advocacy, and the application for membership was a ruse : he did not join for the purpose of working with others for an agreed object. Moreover, the outsider has good reason for not attending to his message, since he proclaims one thing in his words and another by his actions. What is true of the individual in relation to parties, is true of parties in relation to federations.

The application of this? The S.P.G.B. is sometimes asked why it does not seek affiliation with other bodies professing themselves socialist or labour. The foregoing is one reason, and in itself would be sufficient. The programmes and actions of these various parties have been frequently examined in the pages of the Standard. None of them agree with our idea of socialist principle. Therefore affiliation, if obtained, would be unfair to their members, confusing to those out­ side.

The other reason is that the movement towards working-class emancipation would not be strengthened thereby. We want the greatest possible number of our fellow workers with us ; but purely formal organisa­tion is useless in any sphere of action. Organisation must be the expression of a real unity of purpose, whether the purpose be the felling of a tree or the building of a new society. The more momentous the work, the more important it is to remember this. In the case of the class war, formal unity is worse than useless. It is a pretence and a danger. If it were possible to form a vast and disciplined organisation of workers with their present degree of class-consciousness, it would be but a more convenient instrument of exploitation for the master-class. In short, organisation must follow education, not precede it.

This is true alike on the industrial and political fields. In industry we workers must learn the meaning of the tasks which emerge in the daily fight over conditions of labour. That we cannot hope to placate the exploiter, nor look for impartial arbitration. That we have to expect capitalist aggression —with fleeting exceptions, progressively more vigorous every year. That we have but one weapon on this field, the strike, and even that will fail us whenever the master­ class decides to fight an issue out. That to make the best use of the strike we must have, not many unions for one industry, nor one for each industry, nor even one for each national group—but a world-wide workers’ union. And that this day to day struggle must be waged, not for us by leaders, but by us through delegates.

We shall not have advanced far on this road to industrial solidarity before we are forced to see that the utmost we can do by these means is to resist attacks on our already poor standard of living. We cannot improve our standard to any appreciable extent, much less entirely free ourselves from exploitation. To do this we must take the vast machinery of production into our own hands. And since this is an issue which our masters decidedly would fight if they could, we realise that direct action on the industrial field will no longer suffice for us. We do not intend that the capitalists shall be able to starve us by commandeering the food supply, nor slaughter us by using the army and police. While we hope that in that day our fellow-workers in the armed forces will be with us—while we are going to do our utmost to make them so—we do not mean to take risks by allowing the capitalist class to give them orders. We find that we need political power. We need an assembly of workers’ delegates, with a mandate for socialism ; and we organise in the Socialist Party with the object of getting it.

Thus our industrial and political activities must be two sides of one movement : the industrial for safeguarding conditions with­ in the capitalist system, and probably forming the basis for the industrial organisation of the Socialist Commonwealth ; the political for the expropriation of expropriators.

These things we have to learn, and only on the basis of this knowledge can organisa­tion proceed.

A.

The Broom. (1922)

From the October 1922 issue of the Socialist Standard

  “Those who opposed it on ‘principle’ [the tactic of seeking affiliation with the Labour Party]—(in reality because they just cannot stand the Hendersons and MacDonalds . . .) —who prefer to carry on their ‘revolutionary activities’ far from the madding crowd . . . are happily not in our ranks. On their banners the word ‘purity’ is writ in large letters, and over it a dainty broom as a warning. Alas, they have failed to understand that only the newly-born are pure; that in order to become pure again, we must go through purgatory. … If the present trade unions are hells we have simply got to go through it—not save our souls by running away to start unions of our own. If the local labour party is a hell we have got to go through it, and so with the National Labour Party.” (The Communist).

The supreme desire of the Socialist is for the triumph of his cause. His heart is “scared with the knowledge of preventable human woe” ; his dreams are bright with the possibilities of the future commonwealth. His ambitions are no longer individual, nor are his joys and sorrows. He is glad and downcast with the flow and ebb of the movement. He views events in their relation to the revolution; he asks of institutions whether they can assist or only obstruct it. The needs of the cause are imperative calls, the advantage of the cause is his highest expediency.

He knows that the revolution is no one’s business but the workers ; and therefore asks himself, “Is our class to-day, generally speaking, ready for such a step ?” It is not. We are not even capable of fighting with any degree of success the everyday battles of industry. In the perennial struggle around conditions of livelihood we suffer defeat on defeat; worse, we combat one another. We allow ourselves to be divided on all manner of pretexts. We have not learned to unite even in defence of the meagre things we have. As to completely re-organising social life, we should call the suggestion madness. Send our masters packing—why, who would pay our wages? Produce and distribute by democratic arrangement—the work would never get done. Claim and receive what we need from the common store—why, we do not even laugh at the idea. It lies outside our imagination.

The present order of things suits us very well; only we should all like to be kept in work, draw higher wages, and pay less rent.

Such being the state of mind of those whose mission it is to overthrow capitalism, the Socialist and his comrades buckle down to their task. They may do one of two things : lead the workers or teach them. That is to say, they may select a non-revolutionary political party which at the moment has the favour of the workers, and associate themselves with it, regardless of whether its activities are in themselves an advance toward revolution. By zeal and devotion they may aim at acquiring a strong influence with the members, so that when decisions are to be taken their advice will be asked and followed, even though the members are not convinced Socialists. This does not mean that they will neglect to teach socialism, but that they are prepared to attempt a revolution, relying for support on people who better understand the efficiency of Socialists than the full meaning of Socialism. On the other hand, they may devote all their energies to education, assisting no reformist activity, but rather making clear the worthlessness of such endeavours, and the true remedy for the distress which gave rise to them. In this case the minimum pre­-requisite of a seizure of political power would be a majority of Socialists. That is not to say that the majority need be profound Marxian scholars , but they must (1) understand well the basic principles of capitalist and socialist society respectively; (2) have freely decided to destroy the one and set up the other; and consequently be able (3) intelligently to exercise the right of recall, if any of those whom they depute to give effect to their will shall seek to play them false; or (4) to appoint suitable successors if chance should remove some of their delegates, so that the direction of the revolution is in nowise accidental.

In other words, Socialists may either act for their fellow-workers, making all efforts meanwhile to bring them into line, or they may concentrate on making them capable of acting for themselves. The method of leadership recommends itself to some, because it appears at first sight to be the quicker. Naturally no Socialist is willing to defer the revolution a year—a day—beyond what is necessary. In face of capitalism’s terrible daily waste of human life and happiness; with men and women dying every hour, worn out at an age when they ought to be enjoying their full powers of mind and body; with babies born every hour into such conditions that they can only be­ come grotesque caricatures of humanity; what Socialist would not be impatient ? Walk round Bermondsey, look out as your train runs into Bristol, or make a tour of a Lancashire mill, and see whether you can feel patient about the last years of capitalism! It is all too easy to understand men like Martin Nexø‘s anarchist character, who was so obsessed by the suffering of his neighbours that he threw away his life in a futile attempt to effect an immediate remedy. There is not a Socialist who does not desire the transformation to­ morrow, if that were possible.

But what would be the outcome of a revolutionary venture employing the method of leadership —such an attempt as Engels criticised— “carried out by small conscious minorities at the head of unconscious masses ?”

To count on the support of people who do not understand your purpose is to build your house on the sand. At your most need they may desert you. If they can be influenced by you, they may be by your enemies too; and, in the hardships and uncertainties of the transition period, will they not be fruitful ground for the seeds of counter-revolution ? Moreover, if you surmount the first dangers, are these the men and women successfully to work a socialist system of industry ? Accustomed to leaders, how shall they show the qualities necessary for democratic control—the independence, the responsibility ? Not understanding how the system should develop, where is the safeguard against their wrecking it by unsound decisions ? And if to prevent that you must govern your fellow-workers after all, what is it you have established ? Not a co-opera­tive commonwealth, but a bureaucratic state —a sorry achievement of leadership, which leaves the task of education still before you.

For this reason, believing that no genuine and enduring transformation of society is possible until the majority of the workers have embraced socialist principles, the S.P.G.B. directs all its actions towards organising an ever-growing body of socialist conviction. It takes no part in reformist agitation, but calls on the workers to come together for the one action that can help them. Nor does it by keeping its independence lack opportunities of reaching the workers. Men and women are not confined to barracks labelled Labour Party, National Unemployed Workers’ Committee, and so on, and only approachable through those doors. They may be members of these or­ganisations, yet none the less exposed to our socialist bombardment, in the workshop, the trade union branch, at the street corner, in the parks. We do not lack opportunities for propaganda; but we do avoid confusing our message, as we should confuse it by advocating socialist principles with our lips and supporting reformist programmes by our actions. We seek to ensure that new comrades join us with their eyes wide open— knowing the road without need of a leader. Such a party is framed to triumph, because the fabric is sound all through. Say in time of revolution a man is entrusted with a great task. He fails or he dies; it is but to supply his place with another. The revolution will not fail or die with him. All are not equally gifted, but the field of selection is as wide as the party, not limited to a small vanguard.

Leaders, however strong and cour­ageous, cannot guarantee victory, and a defeated insurrection would sow despair and defer what it sought to hasten. But a resolute majority, equipped with knowledge, is invincible.

Specific comment on the paragraph at the head of this article is almost redundant. We might perhaps advise our Communist friend not to be mistrustful of principle. It’s a good thing to have. Without it he will be only a ship without a helm. Nor be too guilty-conscious of his own fall from grace. However little he may look like a pure revolutionist at present, there is hope for him, though for a member of a relatively “newly-born” party it’s rather sad to feel that urgent need of purification. Since he seems to have a fondness for scriptural allusion, we counsel him to strive to become again as a little child in the movement, by discarding the opportunism that has sent him astray. If he must have a taste of purgatory, why the preference for the Labour Party ? There are the Liberal and Conservative parties too, also supported by the workers, who hoped from each in turn sympathetic attention to their interests. They sent these parties to power in the hope of something being done for them; they now bid fair to send the Labour Party for no better reason—certainly not because they are determined at last to think and act for themselves.

We like the device of the broom which he inscribes on our banners. We accept and shall use it to sweep the dry leaves from our revolutionary path—daintily for such as he, for that is all that is necessary ; but for our enemies, with a stroke that shall hum across the world.

A.

The constitution of the future. (1923)

 

From the June 1923 issue of the Socialist Standard

Among a variety of matters reviewed at the I.L.P. Conference in early April was a resolution which, as reported by the “Daily Herald” (4/4/23), “aimed at the abolition of the Cabinet system, and the substitution of Government by committees with Ministers as chairmen.” An indeterminate discussion took place, ending in the questions being referred to a Committee of the National Administrative Council for consideration. The question was raised at the Conference, of course, because the Labour Party, to which the I.L.P. is affiliated, hopes to become the Government Party within the next few years : and the fact that it was raised throws an interesting light upon what it will do when that time comes.

What is the Cabinet? It is the Committee of Ministers who preside over all the important state departments. How it is chosen? By the Prime Minister, whose selections require only the King’s approval. Who chooses the Premier? The King, usually on the advice of the retiring Prime Minister, and having regard to the predominating party in Parliament. The business of the Cabinet is to regulate foreign and colonial affairs, issue temporary decrees, re-appoint to vacant offices, introduce legislation into Parliament, and so on. Practically the whole initiative of Government is vested here : in fact, with the acquiescence of the majority in Parliament, the Cabinet is the Government.

The Cabinet system in its modern character was developed by the representatives of the merchants, bankers and landowners, after their political victory of 1688. They had robbed the monarchy of much of its power, but by no means wished to abolish it. Its presence at the head of their system sanctified their rule, by reason of the sentimental veneration with which wage-workers, shopkeepers, small manufacturers, etc., regarded, and still regard it. They took care, however, to keep it well in hand. The King no longer acted independently, but either “in Council” (in which case the counter-signature of the Privy Council was necessary), or “in Parliament” (in which case consent of the Commons and Lords was necessary). In practice, of course, sittings of the full Privy Council proved totally impracticable. There was never enough agreement amongst its members upon the policy to be pursued, or the legislation to be framed. Besides, in the matter of shaping bills, no matter what views might carry the day in Council, they were of no effect unless the legislation embodying them recommended itself to Parliament. Therefore, this clumsiness was overcome by that party undertaking the task which for the time being could command a majority in Parliament.

A body would be formed of five, seven, or more members of the Privy Council (nowadays the number has increased to round about twenty), all belonging to one party, to fill the ministerial posts. The holders of all the more important offices in the Government, says the “Encyclopedia Britannica,” are “generally selected as the influential politicians of the party, rather than for special aptitude in the work of the departments.” (Coalitions are rare, and formed for joint action in times of emergency, when opposing parties deem it expedient to sink their differences temporarily, as did the Liberal, Unionist and Labour Parties during the late War). This body, the Cabinet, discharged all the important functions nominally performed by the “King in Council.”

Meanwhile, what powers remained to the Sovereign were taken over by this or that State office, until the monarchy to-day remains nothing but a figure—”the mascot,” as it has been called, of the ruling class.

Now this was a good system for the Capitalist class. It provided, and still provides, the various sections of Capitalist interests with a convenient means of mobilising their votes in Parliament; and they have a check upon what is done “in Council” by the yearly financial votes. (The House of Commons exercised that power as recently as April 11th last by refusing to go into Committee of Supply on the Civil Service Department.) The Cabinet system, and indeed Parliament itself, which is of much earlier growth, are products of times when the State was very little concerned with the organisation of industry; and whenever the requirements of modern Capitalism make it necessary for the State to take control of some branch of industry, it simply becomes the responsibility of one of the ministries, and is developed with the direct assistance and advice of Capitalists, through the committees, commissions, boards, etc., that all converge on the Cabinet. Yes, the Cabinet system serves the Capitalists very well.

But how different will be the requirements of the working-class when it comes to power ! The business of production will then be the supreme concern of the Commonwealth : the co-ordination of the activities of workers in mines, fields and schools, on the roads, on the sea, in the laboratory, studio and theatre—with the purpose of furnishing the healthiest and most joyous life for all. Those who are to enjoy the fruits of labour will also be those who do the work; and from both points of view, public business will be the intimate concern of each one.

It follows that the problems with which it will be called upon to deal will be different also. For example, instead of devising ways to pacify the unemployed, it will have to decide how an over-plentiful supply of labour-power in one branch of production can be used to lighten work in another. Instead of protecting home Capitalists against foreign competition, it will determine, in consultation with workers of other lands, in what part of the world a given kind of goods can be most economically produced. And so on.

It is too early yet to pronounce in detail what form the administration of this business will take. That will be for the victorious workers to decide when the time comes. But its outlines are clear. It will not be, as heretofore, a Government, ordering affairs from the top, with merely the acquiescence of the mass of the people. It must have the character of an Executive, giving effect to the decisions of the workers themselves. Every public office must be elective, responsible, and revocable.

We do not share the fear of Mr. Charles Trevelyan, M.P., who at the I.L.P. Conference took part in the debate referred to. He said :

  “We do not want a pledge-bound or an oath-ridden party. When you comrades join us in the House of Commons, after the General Election, we want vital representatives and not merely delegates—men who are going to think and act for themselves.”

Why, the Socialist organisation of industry implies control by the workers. Anything else would be a bureaucratic State, a travesty of Socialism. We are convinced that when the workers are ready to take possession of the means of life they will be ready to begin to control them democratically. Moreover, a delegate can and should be a vital representative. On some matters it is possible to give detailed instructions, on others, general orders only, the particular execution of them being left to the intelligence of the delegate. But in all matters the will of those whose work he is doing, and not his own, should determine his actions. The contrast between Capitalist and Socialist democracy is sharply indicated—by a paragraph in the Manifesto of the International Working-men’s Association, issued in May, 1871, immediately after the crushing of the Commune of Paris. It refers to the Communards’ design for the new constitution :

  “Instead of deciding once in three or six years which member of the ruling class was to represent the people in Parliament, universal suffrage was to serve the people, constituted in Communes, as individual suffrage serves every other employer in the search for the workmen and managers in his business. And it is well known that companies, like individuals, in matters of real business generally knows how to put the right man in the right place, and, if for once they make a mistake, to redress it promptly.”

The Cabinet system, therefore, in the Socialist Commonwealth, is as unthinkable as the private ownership of the means of life. If the I.L.P. questions for a moment whether a Labour Government would discard that system, it is because it knows a Labour Government could not and would not inaugurate Socialism, notwithstanding that it has placed it upon its programme. Only a party of revolutionary workers, organised for that purpose, and that alone, is equal to the task.

A.

Be self-reliant! (1923)

From the June 1923 issue of the Socialist Standard

What is called “unrest” amongst our fellow-workers is widespread to-day. It is often indefinite in form ; it does not imply understanding of the roots of the trouble; but it is sufficiently in evidence to embarrass these in pulpit and press who would prefer to represent the nation as a united and happy family.

Workers are accustomed to toil; but now even the privilege of toiling is denied them for years at a time. They are familiar with the presence of people who are rich without working at all: they see nothing extraordinary in the fact of their masters enjoying different food, different clothes, different houses, a higher culture than their own. But now when they are losing even the slight improvements in their condition which they have from time to time secured, acquiescence tends to disappear. More and more they long for relief, from whatever quarter they look for it.

But ask a worker what he is doing about it, and watch his look of surprise. Usually he is still looking for something to be done for him; and that is why he is continually disappointed. Governments go in and out of power : he gives his vote now to one party, now to the other, as either seems to promise more, and remains as before, miserable. Some of those whose business it is to write or speak what the masters wish to hear, have concluded that our class will never move beyond this stage of waiting to be saved. Every day from the Bench, the House of Commons, or the Press, comes some new insolence. A paragraph written in the “Outlook” last summer is a good example of its kind :

  “Labour no longer even barks; it moans and bays the moon. It has lost faith in its programme, its ability and itself. . . . Direct action makes it shudder; the mere mention of political action reduces it to tears. It loves a phrase or a platitude, but it is too proud to fight, too tired to think, and too timid to speak.”— (Quoted by “Evening Standard,” 27/7/22.)

As regards the strike, which is what the writer appears to mean by direct action, the workers have used it, shudders notwithstanding, many times in the short space since those words were written. To mention only a few cases, we have had strikes of miners in Canada, U.S.A., and Belgium; a railway strike in Italy and one of rail shopmen in America; in France of metallurgical and textile workers, coalworkers, transport men, navvies and municipal workers of many grades; in Great Britain, juteworkers, woodworkers, furnishing tradesmen, miners, seamen and farm-workers, with the probability of several more big stoppages shortly, all bearing witness against the zealous journalist of the “Outlook.” But since strikes can do little more than safeguard an already poor standard of life, we need not say more about them now. As regards any substantial change for the better, is it true that the workers have lost faith in their ability to achieve it? Can that be lost which they never had? “Faith,” in our own powers, is only now growing strong amongst us. Numbers still prefer to trust the employers, believing that their distress is due to an exceptional trade depression, which once past will not be repeated. The only question to them appears to be, which Capitalist party is taking the best means to surmount exceptional difficulties? Only another disillusionment is in store for them. The trade revival when it comes must be short, and every succeeding; crisis more acute and protracted. Why? Because modern industry is so highly productive that it can meet and exceed the demand within a shorter time than ever before. The recurrence of crises could only be prevented by agreed restriction of production, which would be reflected in a monotonous condition of poverty for the workers in place of alternating periods of comparative comfort and acute distress.

To look then for help from any section of the masters is vain. They will only study ways and means to perpetuate production for sale. Do they not, moreover, deliberately use periods of unemployment to break the Trade Unions and strengthen their own position? Capitalist organisation of industry must be brought to an end.

With what purpose, then, will work be undertaken, if not for the manufacture of things for sale? It will be undertaken with one purpose—to supply us all with what we need. And who will make themselves responsible for doing it, since there will be no private profit when there is no sale? We, the workers, shall take it upon ourselves. We shall go to work as we do now, and every man and woman who wants to eat will do the same. Not quite willingly at first, perhaps. Not immediately will those who under Capitalism have known only joyless drudgery, nor yet those who have been parasites, find themselves able to cooperate freely and heartily with their fellows in useful work. These are results of centuries of social antagonisms. But they will gradually disappear. We shall decide for ourselves how the supply of the multitudinous necessary goods and services is to be carried out, how long it is necessary to work, who shall be our managers, and so on. And so long as any man discharges his part of the social work, he will be entitled to receive (by whatever means shall then seem convenient) what he requires from the common store. We shall carry through this revolution; but we shall have to do it together. It is not a job for a few men. A few could not conquer the masters, and a few could not work a Socialist system of industry. Too timid? Too tired? We Socialists do not think so. You fought, fellow-workers, in your masters’ war. You work (when you have the chance) as you never worked before. There is no lack of courage and industry. But you fight as you are told : you work as you are told. You spend your energy and pluck for the masters. When you realise what you have been doing so long, you will use them to set yourselves free.

The Socialist Party is the growing expression of the revolutionary purpose of the workers. Read its principles on the last page of this paper, and make them your principles.

A.

The Pierian Spring. (1922)

From the August 1922 issue of the Socialist Standard

Addressing an Educational Society meeting in London at the end of March, Lord Haldane, as reported by The Scots­man, said that “he did not think we would get a fully intelligent nation and, as a consequence, a fully intelligent Government, until we got the influence of the University student permeating the whole nation. The Universities were to-day rising to a new function. . . A great change had come over the people. . . The working classes were becoming keen about the higher knowledge. They thought nothing too difficult to learn, from Einstein downwards.” (Down­wards to J. S. Nicholson, we presume.) “He saw in the future a class of University student who would find a career in the missionary effort of going into the industrial centres, and preaching the higher knowledge to the workers. It would be a new kind of work, akin to that of the clergy, but would be pursued from the standpoint of the University.”

We like this vision of Lord Haldane’s. We like it immensely. We thrill to the thought of the young venturer answering the call : “Come over into Manchester and help us.” We follow him in spirit into the wilds of Barrow and Luton, clad in the decorum of Eights’ Week as in a garment, and luminous with Higher Knowledge. Wondrous gospel and full of promise !

What constitutes Higher Knowledge? We do not know. But be sure it embraces whatever concerns the upward march of man. Its apostle will first make known to the workers that there is no longer any reason why they should be starved either of learning or of bread. That without their toil there would be neither for any man. That the whole history of human kind from the first slaves till now is the story of the many, ignorant and meanly provided, serving in different ways the few, privileged to wealth and culture. That they are the last to win their freedom, and when they resolve to produce for themselves, instead of their masters, neither physical or intellectual hunger will go unsatisfied.

Oh, be sure the Higher Knowledge must begin with this—the setting of the workers’ feet upon the road to universal culture, the Pierian spring at which all may drink and rejoice—well, perhaps not quite that. “With an educated democracy, such as he had in view, the workers would not only earn better wages, but there would be fewer strikes and lock-outs and disturbances, and the productivity of the nation would increase as the result of its system of higher educa­tion.”

So the highest blessings of the Higher Knowledge is, after all, only to make more efficient wage-slaves. No, on second thoughts, there will be no reason to abandon socialist teaching even if Lord Haldane’s dream shall come true. There will still be need of knowledge, simple and unexalted—knowledge with a small k.

A.

Phaëton: Fragment of a Conversation. (1922)

From the June 1922 issue of the Socialist Standard

You Socialists (said the Apologist for the Present Social Order) make the mistake of thinking that capitalism is evil in itself.

Nothing (said the Socialist) is evil in itself. It is in our judgment only that things appear as good or evil. Hamlet’s “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” is sound philosophy. Capitalism is therefore good in some men’s eyes, evil in others ; and it is in the nature of things that it chiefly seems good to those who benefit by it—the masters, and evil mainly to those who suffer by it—the workers.

But it is not a philosophical point that I wish to make (explained the A. for the P.S.O.). I wish to suggest that what you and I as workers regard as evils are the fruit of human failings, which would give a similar crop of evils under any other system.

The truth (replied the Socialist) is precisely the reverse. Within capitalist society, let men be never so desirous of harmony, they cannot but collide in the process of producing wealth ; in the socialist commonwealth, let a minority be ever so rapacious, it has not the means to enslave the majority as now. This is not to say, however, that the socialist pronounces capitalism purely evil. On the contrary, he holds that each succeeding organisation of society was necessary to the development of man’s power over Nature—capitalism among the rest. From the point of view of human progress it is therefore good, until it has served its purpose, and becomes a chain instead of a means of advance.

That time has now arrived.

The old Greeks had a story of Phaëton, son of Phoebus. He would drive the chariot of the sun, which daily moved across the firmament and shed blessed beams upon the world. But the eager steeds disdained his control; and the unguided car, sweeping too near the earth, blasted the life it was designed to nourish.

Economic teams have their Phaëtons too.

The continuous improvement in methods of production extracts an ever-richer return from human labour : makes highly productive even the labour of the weak and unskilled : makes possible that mass production which might minister to the sustenance, the culture, the leisure of mankind. But these forces capitalism, though it has fostered, cannot fitly employ, because it is ultimately concerned not with satisfying human needs, but with selling for profit. So they operate to create surfeit on one hand, emptiness on the other, and run to huge surpluses which compel spasmodic interruptions of work. Like the radiant, mythical horses they plunge and strive. Misery and death are in their track, where life and joy should be.

Socialism will harness them better.

A.

Extraction From 'The Compleat Socialist.' (1921)

A Short Story from the July 1921 issue of the Socialist Standard

Link to Part 1.

Being a Discourse not Unworthy of the Perusal of Most Reformers.

[Cast of Characters:] Reformer, No Party, Socialist.

Socialist.—I have promised to show you an alternative to Reform, and I mean to catechise you for it. I pray you tell me, did not you, Mr. No Party, declare these same countries which shelter so much poverty to stand among the richest ?

No Party.—That I did, sir, and this is known by us all.

Socialist.—And next you shall tell me, in what form their wealth appears ?

Reformer.—Why, sir, in the shape of commodities of all kinds.

Socialist.—True. And I would know who owns the greater part of them, since we are all very sure the workers do not.

No Party.— Your questions are easily answered, sir. It is those employers whom Mr. Reformer called "masters."

Socialist.— I suppose then that they by far out number the workers ?

Reformer.—Nay, sir, they are but a handful by comparison!

Socialist.—And do they put all these commodities to their own use ?

No Party.—No indeed, they sell them.

Socialist.—To what uses, then, do they put those monies which come to them from the sale ?

No Party.—Oh, sir, with some they supply both necessaries and all manner of luxuries to themselves; and the residue they invest in further business of production.

Socialist.— Still you answer well; I commend you. Now, I pray, did these employers themselves create this wealth which they are so happy as to possess ?

Reformer.—Marry, no, sir: most of them created not the smallest part of it,

Socialist.—Then since wealth does not fall from clouds like rain, nor is not found upon the grass like manna, whence came it ?

Reformer.—The labour of the workers, e'en those of whom I discoursed, produced it.

Socialist.—Well said ; but you must needs show from what material, for we know that even prodigious toil cannot win steel from moonbeams or wool from the wind.

Reformer.—Sooth, bounteous Nature yields the materials.

Socialist.—Is it e'en so ! Now instruct me how the employers do continue to persuade the workers to produce for them; the which is the more amazing for that they return to the producers a share so exceeding meagre.

Reformer.— Oh, sir, you must know that the workers cannot live but by serving the employers.

Socialist.— Can they not ? Why do they not exercise their labour upon Nature's materials for their own benefit ?

Reformer.—Because in doing this they must use tools, machines, factories, locomotives, steamships, and so forth, all of which we call means of production and transport, and these do the employers possess, Therefore the workers may by no means come near them except in serving their masters on terms specified.

Socialist.—And it is plainly to be discerned who sets forth the terms, for we know it is not pleasant to the wage-earners to receive so poor a share and to work so many hours in the day.

No Party.—Aye marry, the terms never differ but in little from what the employers offer, yet why they do not I cannot clearly perceive.

Reformer.—Oh, it is because the number of hungry workers wishing to be hired is nearly always greater than the number which the masters do wish to hire, the which I mentioned a while ago. Therefore can the masters say : "Thus and thus are the terms, and if one of you will not accept them, your fellow must."

Socialist.—Well done, scholars mine! You answer each the other. Now I suppose at least the capitalists themselves produced the means of production, by owning the which they are able so to enslave the workers?

No Party.—Nay ! The workers produced them too.

Reformer.—Aye truly—by bringing their labour to Mother Earth.

Socialist.—Then it does not appear how they own not these !

Reformer.— Oh, the reason is that the very land belongs to the masters.

Socialist.—Then do the workers possess nothing whatsoever, excepting their power to labour ? 

Reformer.—Alas, nothing.

Socialist.—And the capitalists possess everything —land, means of production, and therefore all wealth produced, above that small amount which they do grudgingly return to the workers, to reproduce in them that life and strength which they purpose to use again. 

No Party.—Thus matters stand indeed. 

Socialist.—Now see you not, honest friend, the very root of those material evils which you did so lament ?

Reformer.—Yes, for it doth plainly appear that they all grow from the ownership by capitalists of the means of living. 

Socialist.—And do you begin to perceive in your bitter harvest of hatreds a reflection of material conditions, chiefest of which are the economic relations of capitalist production ?

No Party.—Why, I do, in so far as class antagonism is concerned : a class struggle could not but arise where the interests of employers and employed are thoroughly opposite.

Reformer.—And I have declared already how competition among workers makes them hate each other, which competition we have seen is a feature of capitalist production.

No Party.— Even so. And now I bethink me, the bitterness of the workers in belligerent lands is to be ascribed to this same cause; for I remember that each war hath proved to have been fought on questions of masters' interests, and it is to defend these that the workers have been roused to enmity, who else had no quarrel whatsoever.

Socialist.—So much for their ideal sorrows. And what of the aesthetic blindness, which denied to so many workers any joy in art ?

Reformer.—Why, that indeed is a weed from the same vile root; for how should men and women live in such wise as workers do, and yet remain alive to those profound and subtle sensations which the artist labours to awake ? Sensitive minds in a sordid environment pay for their joys in bitter suffering.

No Party.—Besides, you are to bear in mind how the workers' education concerns itself not at all to foster appreciation of art: such responsiveness is not necessary to an efficient typist or engineer.

Reformer.—True; and I remember how great artists very oft starve, though why our masters, who have leisure and wealth enough, neglect to reward them and enjoy their creations, I can not discern.

No Party.—I can, and that readily! For the ruling class in capitalist society is much made up of men successful is capitalist industry ; the which success pre-requires mental qualities very different from those which distinguished lovers of art and is achieved and maintained by an unremitting recognition of self- and class-interest. The only kind of "art" which seemeth to them good is that which can be made the servant of their ideas ; but the greatest art serves not one class or section, but is for all people and all times a common treasure and a link.

Socialist.—Now see how far a little thinking hath carried you ! I warrant you now perceive, Mr. Reformer, why your reforms fulfilled not your high hopes of them.

Reformer.—I confess I do. For they were directed on the one hand to changing the ideas and tastes of the workers, apart from the material conditions out of which these grew; and on the other to improving their material state while leaving the worker still enslaved to the capitalist, so that if the former should gain some small advantage to-day, the latter had but to devise some new aid to exploitation to-morrow.

Socialist.—So you have satisfied yourselves, have you not, that private property in the means of living entails the subjection of the working class, and its consequent misery ?

Reformer.—We have in sooth.

Socialist.—Wherein, then, lies the remedy ?

Reformer.—It follows straight: in the common ownership of these things.

Socialist.—And how in such case ought their use to be controlled ?

Reformer.—Oh, democratically, by the whole people !

Socialist.—The achievement of which is the whole aim of Socialists, of whom I am one.

No Party.—Why, I cry you thanks, Mr. Socialist ! I am now become so full of eagerness that I would fain know how this transformation may be brought about.

Socialist.—The matter is easily understood, scholar, and as you are so willing, let us proceed to it. You did declare, Mr. Reformer, and we all know it for truth, that the working class doth far outnumber its masters. By what means do the capitalists retain the wealth which they have taken ?

Reformer.—Why, the laws secure it them, and punish with rigorous penalties any who attack their possession. The army, navy, air-force and police are to be employed on such occasion.

Socialist.—And who make the laws ?

Reformer.—Those whom you and I and all voters do appoint to rule.

Socialist.—And who are either masters or supporters of the same I conjecture, since they do so well defend private property.

Reformer.—Truly, of these two kinds they are.

Socialist.—Yet they must be appointed by the votes of the workers, since these are in the majority.

Reformer.—Doubtless.

Socialist.—In whatsoever persuasion, then, do the workers elect such rulers ?

No Party.—Oh, they do not yet understand, as I did not until to-day, sir, the source of their troubles.

Socialist.—Now, what think you? How is it possible for the working class to expropriate its masters, and convert the means of living into common property ?

Reformer.—By taking control of the powers of government.

Socialist.—By what means can this be done?

Reformer.—By electing workers pledged to Socialism.

Socialist.—Whose, then, is the task of achieving Socialism ?

No Party.—The workers’ alone !

Socialist.—And what deem you the most valuable service possible to-day to the cause of Socialism?

No Party.—To spread knowledge of its principles within the working class.

Socialist.—So think I; yet how shall we secure that Socialist action be well-disciplined and effective?

rep.—Why, as the workers grow to an understanding of Socialism they should organise in a Socialist party.

No Party.—Thus the matter appears to me also; and if more consideration confirms my present view, I promise, sir, to rank myself among your fellows, and qualify as completely as may be to bear forward the welcome teaching. I pray you, tell me if there be a Socialist party in this country which dallies not with reforms, for I am resolved that I will none of them.

Socialist.—I am so happy as to be able to name you e’en such a party, to wit, the Socialist Party of Great Britain, some copies of whose Manifesto I have, by good fortune, in my pocket. Do you both read at your leisure, and judge of the party by what you find therein.

Reformer.—I, like Mr. No Party, am become full of eagerness, but hesitate to give the like promise because I fear me that until the majority of the workers understand Socialism the time is long.

Socialist.—Marry, scholar, well urged ! And therefore as we have now reached Rugby let me re commend you to alight. I will hand you your bag.

Reformer.—What counsel is this ? My destination is Carlisle.

Socialist.—Aye, but from here to Carlisle is four hours journey. You were wiser to make the best of Rugby, which invites you here at hand.

Reformer.—You amaze me, sir ! My business can be done only in. Carlisle, and were it a twenty-four hours' journey, I would go thither. No other town will suit my purpose.

Socialist.—Excellent, excellent! You have answered your own objection to Socialism. No thing but Socialism will suit your purpose— which is the emancipation of the working class, is it not ? Only in the Socialist Commonwealth, will vanish the ills we desire to end, and how ever long the way may be, we must go thither, Yet it may well be that the Revolution is much nearer than you have guessed. For myself, it is my hope and my dearest wish that I may live to witness the establishment in many lands of that Commonwealth, and the expanding of the flowers of human happiness in its warmth and light; if this great joy may not be mine, I wish I may keep health and strength to fight through many a year in its cause.

Reformer.—Now so say I, good friend, for my last doubt hath followed the rest.

Socialist.—Your decisions right well, content me, nor do I fear that you will ever repent them,

No Party.—And to lose no time, I propose that Mr. Reformer and I proceed now to read the Manifesto, thus allowing you to return to your Socialist Standard, which I perceive you laid aside when we began to discourse.

Socialist.—'Tis a match.

Reformer.— A match.

A.

Extraction From 'The Compleat Socialist.' (1921)

A Short Story from the June 1921 issue of the Socialist Standard

Being a Discourse not Unworthy of the Perusal of Most Reformers.

[Cast of Characters:] Reformer, No Party, Socialist.

Reformer.—A good morning, gentlemen, to you both! Your countenances, methinks, promise cheerful discourse, and I hope your business may occasion you to Carlisle, whither I am bound in the excellent train. We are all so happy as to have a smoking compartment, and I hope we shall each be the happier for the others' company. It may well be so, with the help of good discourse, as an invitation to the which I propose diligently to endeavour to entertain you, my subject being my humble labours for the commonweal. Now to begin, I profess myself a Reformer, e'en one that has for a goodly number of years directed all his zeal to the task of the betterment of mankind. And you are first to hear how wretched a spectacle confronted me when in early manhood I regarded the lives of my fellow workers. How had a man to toil so long in the day that body and mind grew bent to his task ! How did the youth his son waste his days amid smoke and clamour, so that when he had climbed but to twenty years he was no longer young ! And consider his daughter, that should have been comely and dainty as a phrase of sweet music ; went she not wearily, in unpleasant raiment, to the like drudgery ? And I may put you in mind what was their requital. They had perforce to restore themselves with victuals of the meanest, notwithstanding that the thrifty wife had cudgelled her brains and tired her limbs perfectly to obtain the utmost her slender purse would buy. And for his house, which some did use to call his kingdom—what was it but an incommodious shelter, so put together and of such materials, as to increase the labour of the housewife by tenfold ? And for his infants, to the which the meadow and the seashore should be a playground, and to whose delight trees and brooks should minister, they ran their races in squalid streets, and hushed their dolls on doorsteps.

I say, all this, and much more which I could feelingly relate, was the pitiable lot of the working people, from which they seemed nowise able to escape, were they never so diligent and careful. And the contemplation of their material hardships was like to possess my whole thoughts; but I grew to perceive that divers hatreds mingled with their sorrows, and made their bread yet more bitter and their hovels intolerable. The men did revile their fellow men, and even more heartily their fellow women, for that all wished to serve a master for hire, and the masters required but part of them. And old workers held young workers to be their enemies, because masters would more willingly hire them; but when wars broke upon the earth —for what causes they knew not, nor do I rightly know—all these, men and women, old and young together, hated perfectly their brothers in other lands, and suffered exquisitely in inflicting the like pains on them.

And you are to note, gentlemen, of what character were their recreations ! For books and plays, those which they did chiefly use to enjoy had indeed sensation and bilious sentimentality, but little of power or beauty ; the commonplace waltz and the maudlin song entertained them for music, and of pictures they loved only the superficially pretty. And now what say you, my masters ? Spoke I not truth when I said their lives were wretched?


No Party.—Trust me, sir, you did, whereto my own experience serves for more testimony ; and now, sir, fulfil your promise by relating wherein you have endeavoured to mend a condition so villainous.


Reformer.—Well, sirs, I shall divide the improvements in the cause of which I have laboured into four kinds—to wit, Economic, Political, Educational, and Moral. Of the Economic there be—

Workman's Compensation Act,
Health Insurance,
Unemployment Insurance,
Limiting Hours of Labour,
Establishment of Minimum Wages,
Rent Restriction Act,

and many more of hardly less note. You are to bear in mind also that with no little difficulty we have secured that divers acts should be amended, which else had worsened the portion of the workers past the bearing. And in the future we do purpose to effect the following :

Nationalisation of land, mines, and railways,
State Houses,
State Hospitals,

and not a few others which I doubt not you would confess heartily desirable, but which I will pass by and proceed to the Political, of which I entreat you to remember

Limitation of Power of the House of Lords (and we hope in future time to abolish it),

Extension of the Franchise of Women (and we intend to labour for its further enlargement to include all men and women of discreet years),

Admission of Women to Parliament,
Payment of M.P.'s. 

And of the Educational there are—

Popular lectures and concerts,
Mutual improvement societies,
Education Associations

and all institutions which instruct the unhappy ignorant workers how to know what is truly excellent in the work of great men. And of the Moral have we not supported

Peace Societies,
Brotherhood Movements,
Co-operative Movements, and
Universal Languages,

and caused to be printed writings preaching the reconciliation of men with, women, nation with nation, rich with poor. Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse, as the extent of my subject tempts me to do, I should prove tedious; which I am resolved I will not, but will conclude with the modest hope that what you have heard concerning our labours may urge you to do likewise.


No Party.—I promise you, sir, your choice exposition hath pleased me marvellous well; and recalling the words of the noble Agrippa I would say, "Almost thou persuaded me to be a Reformer." But a doubt there is which exercises me. Look out, I pray you, on the town which we are passing e'en now. Methinks I see houses ugly and crowded, and these in the greatest number. Now sounds the whistle of the factory before us : I pray you take note of the workers as they are released for their midday meal. See you those men, have they any pleasure in their work ? Yonder is a band of swains: could they challenge the Olympians ? And for those maidens hurrying along, are they gayer or better apparelled than those of twenty years ago ? Here stands a theatre, of the which the bills invite to "Mr. Mustafa Lotofem" ; the barrel organ outside (infallible register of popular taste in music) dispenseth "I'm a Naughty Girl" !—is the sum of your aesthetic advance but this ? And we have passed a number of such towns, e'en while you so sweetly discoursed ; I know, moreover, because I travel much, and because I read the papers, that in all parts of this country and indeed in many others (those which are accounted the most rich and splendid) the lot of those who work is little improved. So far as concerneth your distressful antagonisms between sexes and classes and nations, I find them still most feelingly expressed ; and I would remind you indeed of the war which is not yet at an end—how ineffectual have been your pleas for Peace and Brotherhood !

Where then are the fruits of all your reforms; and if I become one of your company, of what avail will my endeavour be ?


Reformer.—Well, sir, and upon my word you have spoke the very riddle which hath oft tormented me of late ! All so soon as matters have been in one direction bettered, do they in another begin to worsen. And it gives us Reformers great distress to discover that those very measures which most appear as being beneficent and full of commendation, do of times prove a curse and a chain to them whom we did desire to benefit. Yet of such is our zeal for the advancement of the miserable, that these misfortunes but spur us to introduce new reforms.


No Party.—Which are like to prove as mischievous, or at the best worthless, I fear me. In sooth, sir, methinks your intentions do you credit, but for your achievements, they limp far behind.


Reformer.—You speak roundly, sir, and I am constrained to confess that you have much right on your part. But I charge you, show me an alternative or I swear I will be a Reformer for ever ; for I cannot watch wretchedness inactively. Move I must, and all men who feel the pain of others, be the achievement never so small.


Socialist.—Marry, sir, that alternative will I show you, who at first kept silence because I had a mind to hear of which kind of Reformers you were. For some there be, I pray you let me speak it without offence, who profess themselves such with the object of mounting to positions of some profit. And others there be which love publicity, and delight to lead a crowd. Such men know well the answer to your riddle, but for their own advantage give out false solutions. But there is yet another sort of man, who is of their fraternity only because he is ignorant of that which alone can end the ills which he deplored—and such do I perceive you to be.


Reformer.—Trust me, sir, I am for you heartily if you can show me such a physic, but I fear you are not able, nor any man.


No Party.—I fear it too, but let us hear.

A.

(To be Continued)

As it was not in the beginning. A chapter on the relationship of the sexes. (1920)

From the October 1920 issue of the Socialist Standard

A letter appeared in the "Daily News" of August 13th last, by Miss Jane Burr, described as "the young American novelist and poet." It concerned the relationship of the sexes, and evoked considerable interest and a number of replies.

Miss Burr condemns marriage without qualification, and calls for a new relationship of the sexes. "All women are sick to death of marriage. Our mothers are sick of it and their mothers were before them." In an interview on the same subject, the "Daily News" quotes her as saying : "I have no use for marriage. What I want is romance—and marriage just knocks that on the head." Dame Clara Butt in the same correspondence declares: "Marriage is a free institution which has been ruined by the laws being too one-sided." The burden of Miss Burr's other critics is that all marriages are not failures, that none need be, in fact, would young people study the physical implications of marriage, the care of children, and the exercise of mutual tolerance and consideration.

It will be seen that Miss Burr and her critics equally make the mistake of viewing matrimonial relationships as isolated from other social relations, and capable of being treated without reference to them. To those who have adopted the materialist conception of history it is apparent that marriage is a social institution which, like all others—the structure of the law, the established church, social amusements, and so on—reflects material conditions. Every fundamental change in the organisation of the production of wealth revolutionises the institutions of social life, so that they correctly represent the new relationships between members of the community. Marriage relations under modern capitalism are very different to those which existed during the period of chattel slavery, and different again from those of tribal communism.

It is therefore, well that anyone who finds undesirable features in present-day marriage should consider how far they arise from the nature of marriage in general, and therefore would be common to all forms of the family, and how far they are peculiar to the special form which marriage takes at this point of its development. It is self-evident, for example, that in any continued and intimate human intercourse, much tolerance is necessary to secure harmony ; indeed, we may say that happiness in co-operation is in proportion to the common willingness to subordinate individual well-being to that of the group—whether the group be of two or two millions.

Common sense dictates, likewise, a clear understanding of those physical functions which lie to some extent within the control of the human will, that of generation among the most important; and the greatest possible efficiency in all work which we desire to do well, the care of children being such work in the eyes of most men and women. Such requirements of married life, therefore, as are insisted on by Miss Burr's critics, are common to all forms of the family in all ages; and their absence mars alike the household of the Australian aborigine and the cultured European.

Miss Burr's charge against the institution of marriage, however, points immediately to a feature not common to all stages of development. Her complaint is that present-day marriage is a bond not to be severed at will— that inability to support herself and the necessity of caring for her children make a wife dependent upon her husband ; and he, similarly, because she is his wife and the mother of his children, is bound to support her. "We've got to quit working the men on that threadbare business of being the mothers of their children. We've got to quit working the men at all. We've got to be trained to jobs, and we've got to learn how to be cast aside."

It is true Miss Burr confuses her argument by exaggerated and ambiguous phrases. That "all women are sick to death of marriage," for instance, is obviously incorrect, and gives most of her opponents an excuse for paying no attention to her main argument.

Again, she says : "If only men will permit us to print the truth about life instead of keeping that knowledge within their sacred circles we women might be able to promise them a square deal in future." But she does not define what she means by "the truth about life." What is this knowledge of which men have the monopoly, and, by implication, do not allow women to print ? And how do they prevent it ?

Miss Burr's condemnation of marriage rests on economic grounds, as we have seen, and of the force of economic pressure both sexes are equally cognizant. Besides, she demands: "Is it safety to push our boys and girls off into something that we know beforehand has made us wretched ?" So, after all, it appears that one sex is not so much better acquainted with "the truth about life" (whatever it may be) than the other.

For all that her main charge, as stated is definite, and obviously it is applicable only to a system where the married woman is dependent on her husband. That is to say, where care of the household and the bearing of children are not a concern of society as a whole, but the private business of the male head of each family. Plainly, too, it is an evil that will only vanish when the vital functions of maternity and housewifery again become a public service —when not the monogamous family, but the individual human being, is the economic unit of society.

The scope of our enquiry, then, must be this: Out of what system of production did the family as we know it arise, and what is its logical future development ?

Let us briefly glance at the origin and growth of the human family, as made known by the research of many scientists. In this direction one name stands pre-eminent—that of Lewis Morgan, Miss Burr's countryman. By a different road he arrived at the same result as Marx —the formulation of the theory that the foremost dynamic factor in history is the reproduction of the material requirements of life. During the 43 years since his main work was published further investigation has but confirmed his principle findings.

According to Morgan, during the period of savagery, when property consisted of the simplest of articles, and none owned accumulations of wealth which they might wish their children to inherit, group marriage existed. This was itself a development from an earlier condition of unrestricted sexual intercourse within the tribe, and constituted every woman within the group the wife of every man, and vice versa. At its earliest appearance the groups were very broad; as one set of relatives after another was excluded from sexual intercourse, they narrowed. Obviously in such groups only female lineage could be traced ; therefore women, as the acknowledged parents of children, were held in high respect. When the continued narrowing of marriage groups resulted in the pairing family within the communal house-hold, the women still ruled there. But with the rearing of herds and keeping of slaves during barbarism, came the accumulation of private property in the tools of production, which, according to the division of labour, and consequently of property, belonged to the man. This ownership gave the husband the superior position in the household, but according to the traditional custom, his wealth was inherited, not by his children (for he was not acknowledged their parent) but by certain of his relatives on his mother's side.

Therefore in widely different nations and times, so soon as the means of production became private property in the hands of men, was the "maternal law" overthrown. The wife became the bearer of her husband's children, the superintendent of his slaves. Nominally either party could still dissolve the marriage at pleasure, but actually, of course, the woman was bound to the man who held the food and instruments for producing food.

In the monogamous family, which next developed, and which among the Greeks attained its severest form, even this nominal freedom of the wife disappeared. The marriage was made permanent, and the wife bound to chastity by severest penalties—even under pain of death. Not so the husband. He had the right to demand the surrender of his females slaves, and intercourse with prostitutes was by no means condemned. "Supremacy of the man in the family, and generation of children that could be his offspring alone and were destined to be the heirs of his wealth—these were openly avowed by the Greeks to be the sole objects of monogamy," (Engels. "Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State," p. 79.)

We see, then, that with the passing of tribal communism and the development of private property in the means of life, the monogamous family became the economic unit of society. "In the ancient communistic household, comprising many married couples and their children, the administration entrusted to women was just as much a public function, a socially necessary industry, as the procuring of food by men." (Engels. "Origin of the Family," p. 89.) In the transition to monogamy this social character of women's work disappeared. Hers became a private service within the unit—the monogamous family. It was no longer the business of society, but of the husband, to supply her with the necessaries of life; and this dependence bound her to him more effectually than legal ties, though these, as we well know, speedily came into existence.

Appearing on the threshold of civilisation, and being the form of the family generally corresponding to it, monogamy has endured through feudalism up to capitalism, with legal changes conforming first to feudal, then to capitalist, ideology. And its character of being monogamy only for women, stamped upon it by the practice of "enjoying" young female slaves, persists also to the present day. This by no means signifies that chastity among men is unknown, but simply that it is not necessary to the form, and that sexual irregularities are judged more leniently in a man than in a woman. The nominal denunciation of prostitution by the present-day ruling class is mainly confined to the women who practice it, and seldom touches the men who employ them.

This shows by how much Dame Butt's remark, quoted above, misses the truth. The "one-sided laws" of which she complains are not the cause of the subjection of married women; on the contrary, the economic conditions which involved that degradation created a sex relationship which found its expression in "one-sided laws."

We have pursued our enquiry so far with respect to conditions during married life, and it may perhaps have been assumed that in the actual coming together of young people there has usually been a freedom of choice which was a kind of guarantee of marital happiness. Unfortunately, the facts do not confirm this assumption. In the stage of the pairing family (where separation began for the first time to be difficult of accomplishment), the marriage was arranged by the mothers of the bride and bridegroom, without their consent and often without their knowledge. In the succeeding patriarchal family, the agreement was between the fathers, and with usually quite other aims than the happiness of the betrothed.

So in monogamy, during the middle ages, marriage contracts were arranged in the interest of the house or realm, to which individual preference had to bow. Such submission was regarded as the duty of young people. Feudalism passing away, capitalist ideas required that both contracting parties should be free, and theoretically gave to both women and men the right of choice. Yet it is well known that in practice marriages of choice in the ruling class are the exception. In capitalist countries where a portion of the parental wealth is legally assured to the children, the consent of parents to a marriage must be obtained; and in capitalist countries where consent is not necessary, the children may be disinherited. Individual preference here has little more opportunity to assert itself than under any previous social system; and if, as often happens, the match is an ill-sorted one, and one partner wishes to dissolve it, the dependence of the woman forbids it, and consolation has to be sought, if at all, outside the marriage tie.

These are the results of the subjection of women, to the ruling class of our day. What of the proletarians ?

At first glance they appear happier, in that they have greater freedom of choice—the parents of young workers having nothing to gain by the marriage—and because most industries are now open to women, with the result that they can leave their husbands, and support themselves, if necessary, as do the men, by selling their labour-power to the capitalists.

But immediately on the appearance of children the position is changed. The working-class mother who wishes to tend her own children has no alternative but to remain dependent on her husband.

We have now arrived at the condition against which Miss Burr rebels. She sees only one remedy — the professional mother, who will care for the children of working women in order to leave them free to enter the labour market ; and naturally draws impassioned protest from women who want to ''mother" their children themselves. She sees only one remedy because she assumes the indefinite continuance of the capitalist system, within which, we have seen, a woman cannot be a wife and mother and remain free.

But this system is not immutable. Like those out of which it grew, it will break down so soon as the possibility of a more highly developed form of production has developed within it. The new form will be the collective organisation of production— realised by transforming the privately-owned means of life into common property, which process will abolish the subjection of women to men, as it will abolish the subjection of employed to employer.

With the disappearance of the conditions which made the monogamous family the economic unit —private property and inheritance— it will cease to function as such, and the unit will again be what it was under primitive communism — the individual human being. The freedom and equality of that early society will be restored, but in the stead of the tribe will stand the world-wide community ; the simple social tasks which satisfied the few needs of early mankind will have been replaced by a complex system of industry, competent to provide the manifold necessities and luxuries of modern life. No man holding the power to starve another, no man can then bind his fellows to be his industrial slaves, nor a woman to be his domestic slave.

In the Socialist Commonwealth, where the products of all labour will be the common wealth, the work of a wife and mother will be as highly valued as the work of a ploughman or a goldsmith. The making of a strong and beautiful citizen will be as important as the making of a strong and beautiful ship. Her service will be a social service, rewarded by society.

Thus will the New Relationship which Miss Burr so desires be realised. Only voluntarily will a woman surrender herself; with no thought but of happiness in the union will a man take her. If the union prove unhappy either will be free to dissolve it, for neither is dependent upon, nor responsible for, the other in the material sense. If we are honest we shall frankly grant here, that not all men and women are temperamentally disposed to lifelong constancy. Some love sincerely and ardently for a period only, and when that period has passed, separation is natural and reasonable. Such pain as a separation causes to the partner who may be more constant, though keen, is not worse than would be felt by the other in remaining.

On the other hand, the sordid cases which now embitter the domestic life of the proletarians will be absent, leaving much less room for disillusionment and mutual impatience. True constancy (as distinct from its present-day apology where a union endures under force of necessity) will probably be usual.

Like other social institutions—the law, no longer used to protect exploiters; education, no more directed to the purpose of producing docile and capable wage slaves ; art, dependent never again upon the scant appreciation of poor men with minds blunted by ignorance and toil, and rich men with heads full of rubber, oil, or soap—marriage will reflect the free and comradely relations of economic life.

Love, which in degrading conditions is a weakly thing, will then grow radiant and strong, and marriage no longer fall like a curtain on romance.

A.