'Revolutionary Christianity.' (1921)

From the August 1921 issue of the Socialist Standard

The "Crusader" is a journal published by a number of people having in common a belief in the power of the ethics of Christ to overcome all the difficulties and to combat all the evils which trouble mankind. In the main they appear to have arrived at their present standpoint as a result of the recent war. During it they took up a pacifist attitude, and none could deny the courage and sincerity with which this was maintained. Further, they have shown a genuine desire to face new problems with the same independence, and to apply to them their universal remedy. As a case in point their condemnation of war for its disregard for human life, which in their opinion is sacred, has compelled a broadening of outlook to include industrial strife; for they soon realised that peace-time pursuits are just as disregardful of the lives and individuality of the workers as is war.

Arising out of this an endeavour was made to get shareholders in railways, mines, and industry generally, voluntarily to give up part or the whole of their incomes in order to ensure the payment of an adequate wage to the workers. Of their sympathy for the latter there can be no question, but this invitation to shareholders is typical of their general utterly futile well-meaningness. Practical help may be an advance on passive sympathy, but neither is of permanent use unless accompanied by knowledge, and the one obvious fact about our "New Crusaders" is that they simply do not understand the problem for which they think they have found the solution.

That there is a conflict in society few people now trouble to deny, although some of our opponents would explain it as the outcome of the workers' ignorance and consequent failure to recognise that Capital and Labour are Siamese twins. The "Crusader" group does also realise that this conflict is sufficiently real to make Christian ethics impossible of application under present conditions, and describe themselves therefore as revolutionary; but although they look hopefully on signs of movement among the workers, they do not correctly interpret what they see. Viewing society through ethical spectacles, they fail entirely to understand its structure, the lines of its development, and the nature and magnitude of the forces at work within it.

Dimly perceiving that the future is with the workers, they nevertheless will not recognise that the class division in society is fundamental, and look to sympathetic interest of all people of goodwill to rid the human race of the material and moral evils of the present system. Necessarily somewhat detached from the workers, they sympathise with but do not trust them; they cannot rid themselves of the idea that Labour needs benevolent shepherding into the green pastures of the new world. They preach fearlessness and confidence in the innate goodness and loyalty of mankind, but nevertheless allow W. J. Chamberlain to insult his trade unionist readers with the remark that, although himself aware before the event of the impending Triple Alliance collapse, and knowing "that the position of the workers' army looks pretty nigh hopeless, . . I hadn't the courage to say so," and again, "had I written all that was in my mind last week ... I should probably have been denounced as a reactionary." After which he has the amusing impudence to condemn R. Williams and J. H. Thomas for not leading their "hopeless army" to the slaughter. Mr. Chamberlain, who thinks the workers unable to endure the truth, really ought to think twice before calling Bob Williams a "hot air merchant."

Confident in the power of love and believing that right is might, they nevertheless place considerable trust in trade union organisation and have a healthy regard for mere numbers.

Whenever the employers or the Government, sure of their dominating position, take the offensive against the workers, the "Crusader" always sees in the protest into which the latter are provoked, the early coming of the Social Revolution. They invariably accept the indignation of the rank and file and the wild utterances of their leaders as tokens of strength instead of what they often are merely the signs of a realisation of helplessness. When each strike or lock-out ends in compromise or failure for the workers, and the Revolution fails to materialise, they are again unable to recognise it for what it really is, the overcoming of a less force by a greater. It is ascribed to the treachery, cowardice, or incompetence of this or that leader, the apathy and lack of spirituality of the workers, the wickedness of Lloyd George to anything, in fact, but the harsh reality. The duplicity of Mr. Lloyd George on the one hand and the brilliance of Mr. F. Hodges on the other would matter but little to class-conscious workers, and are likely to prove equally dangerous while political knowledge is lacking.

The "Crusader" does not supply that knowledge.

At the commencement of the last coal struggle, when it was obvious to most people that, for the miners, conditions were exceptionally unfavourable for an industrial dispute, the "Crusader," true to its belief, advocated the tactics of humiliation and despair of appealing to the humanity of the employers instead of offering what resistance was possible

"Pity may be evoked where threats would have provoked only counter-threats. Labour, if it were wise, would realise that 'the broken sword' is the most powerful of all weapons." (4th March. 1921.)

Aware of the immense power of the Press and seeing this power invariably used against the workers, they counsel introspection and contemplation of the soul as the road to independence of the written word, instead of teaching the real lesson that this if just one more weapon controlled by the capitalist class and used by them to further their class interests.

What the "Crusader" lacks is the recognition of the first importance of the fact that one class—the capitalists—lives by robbing another class—the workers. That robbery is cloaked under legal forms, softened by protective measures—the Factory and Compensation Acts, etc., —obscured by the activities of well-meaning reformers, and cleverly and persistently denied by the Churches and other institutions which supply apologetics for the dominant class, but the robbery exists and will become ever more intensive. Where such material is provided there must be conflict. Its appearance may change, and under special circumstances, such as the war, it may seem to have been obliterated, but it cannot remain hidden.

In that conflict force rules.

This is the kernel of the whole matter, let our "Crusaders" disprove it if they can. During the war they preached negotiation and conciliation. In peace they have so far recognised realities as to condone the use of the strike; the power of the folded arms. They were wrong in their attitude to war, and in so far as they approve of strikes only on the false assumption that they are merely the abstention from labour, and therefore passive and morally justifiable, they are wrong now. A strike does inflict additional hardship and suffering on people not directly interested, and on that ground alone should logically be condemned by the "Crusader."

War between nations is occasioned by the struggle for markets and for the possession of regions rich in mineral wealth, and while the present competitive system remains is inevitable. It cannot be attributed to human weakness, and cannot, therefore, be removed by appeals, however eloquent, to the "better nature" of the peoples of the world.

Our attitude to war, the Socialist attitude, is one of uncompromising opposition, because we contend that the workers have a common interest against the world capitalist class, and have nothing to gain by partaking of the quarrels of the latter, which are only possible with the continuance of exploitation.

The labour leaders who served their masters by opposing any cessation of the war until the "enemy" had been "crushed," and who serve them now by preaching industrial peace, were right in one thing. Quarrels are not settled by negotiation. While the forces at the disposal of the contending parties are more or less equally matched, and while the cause of the quarrel remains, it cannot be disposed of by the round table conference. It is true that eventually enemies have to meet to arrange peace terms, but only when one or the other is prepared to yield, or when the object of each has become unattainable.

The same is applicable to industrial disputes, the class struggle.

The class which now hold the reins of government will not willingly let them go, nor will they, except under compulsion, put in the workers' hands the weapons they may use for their emancipation.

Fortunately, however, the capitalists are compelled by other forces beyond their control to grant such education as enables the workers to learn, and having learned, to act. The development of the system itself provides the force in question.

The need of the hour for us is to put before the workers the knowledge which will enable them to recognise the class nature of society and its government as the true explanation of social chaos.

There is nothing in this beyond the comprehension of the average worker, and an appreciation of it will lead surely to organisation for the capture of political control which must precede any social transformation. However much the "Crusader" may desire this end, in so far as their propaganda makes more difficult the perception of the facts of present social organisation in all their simplicity, it can only be regarded as a hindrance to the early coming of "the day."

Edgar Hardcastle

Aspect: The Future according to Galbraith (1967)

From the October 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

In the Autumn of 1966 Harvard Professor of Economics J. K. Galbraith gave a much publicised series of lectures on the B.B.C. Home Service. They were part of a book on which he had been working for many years and which he now publishes under the title The New Industrial State. (Hamish Hamilton, 42s.).

In it he describes and explains the rise of the big industrial corporations in America; tells us how they are evolving towards a planned society not foreseen by the supporters of Nineteenth Century capitalism or by socialists; and that where America leads the rest of the world will follow.

Before the era of the big corporations the individual capitalist had to compete with his rivals in a market and at prices neither of which he could control: he also had to fight the trade unions. His sole object was to make as much profit as possible. This, says Galbraith, is still true in the world of the independent retailer, the farmer and the like :

Here prices are not controlled. Here the consumer is sovereign. Here pecuniary motivation is unimpaired, (p. 395)

But according to Galbraith, it is otherwise in the “industrial system”, that is among the “mature corporations” such as General Motors, Standard Oil, Fords, Du Pont, etc. (he names ten of them). Here it is the few big corporations who determine prices and create the market by advertising. They are no longer concerned to show maximum profit because the shareholders, who do want maximum profit, have lost control to the group of technicians, sales executives, engineers, scientists, designers etc. He defines them as all who bring “specialised knowledge, talent, or experience to group decision-making” (p.71) and calls them the “Technostructure”.

The interests and aspirations of the Technostructure lie in their own jobs, their security and prestige, all of which are to be achieved by promoting the technological efficiency and expansion of the corporation to which they belong and by cultivating close relationships with the governmental authorities who regulate and stabilise the general wage and price levels and secure an approximation to full employment. He sees the big corporations possibly merging with the state apparatus. He also sees the trade unions as a declining force.

An essential point in this argument is that the big corporations are able to finance their own expansion out of undistributed profits and have thus freed themselves from dependence on the money market and the banking world through which they formerly raised capital.

He also maintains that (subject to some qualifications), the trend towards control of industrial organisations by the “Technostructure” is in evidence in Russia, and in nationalised industries everywhere.

At the end of the road, unless we are saved by the enlightened intervention of the educationalists and scientists in collaboration with the Technostructure, we shall live our disciplined and liberty-less lives in a world of corporations (private and public) narrowly devoted to the purposes of production, expansion and technological advance.

Much of this ground has been covered before though without the systematic treatment given it by Galbraith. The first name that comes to mind is James Burnham with his The Managerial Revolution published in 1942; but with a surprising indifference. Burnham saw his models of the Managerial state in Germany, Russia and America. For him the 1939 war was “the first formative war of managerial society”. It would be followed, he said, by wars for world domination between the only three possible centres, America, Europe and the Far East. (See Penguin edition 1945 pages 219 & 220). Galbraith sees the Managerial revolution producing the exact opposite, a coming together of the “free world” and the “communist world” because “it will dispose of the notion of inevitable conflict based on irreconcilable difference” (P.391).

Galbraith here makes one of several references to Marx, most of which betray an almost total failure to understand what Marx held to be the nature of capitalism. He charges Marx with not having foreseen this coming convergence: on the contrary Marx did foresee that Russia would become, as it has, a capitalist state. But Marx did not explain that the conflict between capitalist states as being due to their unlikeness but to their likeness. As he wrote in the Communist Manifesto, “The Bourgeoisie finds itself involved in a constant battle . . .  at all times, with the bourgeoisie of foreign countries”. They are in conflict over markets, raw material sources and strategic points.

Russian and American capitalism may indeed find common ground for a time (as they did in the last war) but not for the reason he gives. Then it was the need to resist German and Japanese expansion. Next time it may be the need to contain Chinese expansion.

Galbraith's confusion is the common one of supposing that socialism (or communism) in the Marxian sense means nationalisation or state capitalism. The consequence is that although he has a chapter on “Socialism” and many references to it elsewhere he nowhere even considers the possibility of the human race finding the solution to the problems he raises by going over to a classless social system without wages, prices, profits or production for sale.

The evidence Galbraith gives to support his case is in almost every instance exaggerated, or based on trends which may be reversed or is mere assumption about what may happen.

It is indeed true that a tendency in recent years in this country has been for big companies to rely more on providing capital for expansion out of undistributed profits, instead of raising capital from outside. It is however, partly the result of the method of taxing company profits, which could be altered again. Even so we have such examples as ICI raising £60 million in 1966 by loan stock, and three big companies, English Electric, Associated Electrical Industries and Rolls-Royce, which between them have outstanding loans from banks and acceptance houses of nearly £100 million. They at least have not become self-financing.

Galbraith believes that the propertied class as a whole, though its interest would be served by getting maximum dividends and by curbing the big near-monopolies, will passively allow the Technostructure to thwart it. There are, however, influential groups in political parties and business circles determined to prevent this. In the last resort it will be settled by government action one way or another.

Then there is his belief that the trade unions are declining. He bases this on the fall in the number of industrial workers (blue-collar workers in American terminology) among whom trade unionism has been strong, and that white-collar workers (clerical, technical, administrative etc.) though growing in number are “not within the reach of unions”. With growing affluence, he says, the workers in the corporations are on better terms with their employers and less militant; but at the time of writing 160,000 American workers are on strike against one of his named corporations, Ford, and other motor companies are likely to be involved.

The position of trade unionism among British white-collar workers was examined recently by George Sayers Bain in the British Journal of Industrial Relations (November 1966) and while showing a remarkable growth of white-collar unionism in recent years he reaches a conclusion rather like that of Galbraith, on the ground that so far only a small proportion are organised. But is this conclusive? At one time trade unionism was confined largely to craftsmen and it was argued then that “unskilled” workers were unorganisable.

The non-manual workers affiliated to the TUC, covering civil servants, local government staffs, draughtsmen, supervisory and technical workers, professional, clerical and entertainment workers have increased from 917,000 in 1947 to 1,679,000 in 1966: to which should be added about 300,000 teachers. Why should this trend not continue? On present evidence it will.

In support of his case that it wont continue Galbraith relies heavily on the “affluence" of workers in the industrial countries and on the ability of governments, using Keynesian techniques, to maintain nearly full employment. Millions of workers do not share his optimism on either count, not forgetting the current British unemployment of 600,000, expected to rise substantially this winter; and the “low unemployment" of about three million in USA, commonly regarded as understating the real number. Included in the unemployed in Britain are quite a lot of Galbraith’s ‘Technostructure”. They suddenly found that they were not in control after all.

If the strike of Ford workers knocks a big hole in Galbraith’s belief about trade unions, another event in USA does the same for his belief that the big corporations so dominate the market that they can fix the prices at which they sell their products. One of his ten corporations is Du Pont, the largest chemical company in the world. It was reported in the London Times (9 September) that Du Pont had announced an expected fall of twenty per cent in their profit this year. And the reason? “a sharp decline in the prices of synthetic fibres". So much for the Galbraith theory.

Among Galbraith’s misleading references to Marx are his statement (p.290) that Marx assumed "the progressive immiseration of the working class” and that as revolution was inevitable according to Marx, why was it necessary to advocate it. (p.321).

He overlooks that Mara’s statement about the lot of the worker growing worse was set in relation to the accumulation of capital and “be his payment high or low”. And Marx, who insisted that man makes his own history, never supposed that socialism could be achieved without the conscious act of the organised socialist working class.

Marx would, for example, not have subscribed to Galbraith’s despairing doctrine (p396) that the belief “that he can decide the character of his economic system" is no more than “the vanity of the modern man”.

Modern man does not have to resign himself to Galbraith’s grim new industrial state.

Edgar Hardcastle

Mr. Baldwin's Utopia: Can Lions and Lambs Co-operate? (1925)

From the April 1925 issue of the Socialist Standard

So many people have jumped on poor Mr. Baldwin for his recent appeal for an industrial truce, that it seems a shame to add to their number. He is such an “honest” man; so obviously well-meaning'; so kindly. His democratic tastes are illustrated by his addiction to the plebian pipe. In many of his speeches, how beautifully has he voiced his love of the English countryside; its farms, its hedgerows, its winding lanes and quiet villages. He loves the memory of the old days, when man and master were personal friends and the “sack” almost unknown. A man of simple tastes, with nothing of the “high brow" or superior person about him. If we were writing his life for a Sunday dope-sheet, we should describe him as “a plain, simple, home-loving Englishman; a lover of peace and tranquillity.” As we are writing for a Socialist paper, we have to take a wider view. We have to recognise that he is a big capitalist in a big essential industry. We must note that he is the elected head of a malignantly capitalist party. We must observe that he is speaking for the class that pays him and of which he is a representative member. This is not set down in any personal, malicious spirit, but as a plain statement of self-evident fact.

The speech itself was in no way remarkable. That it has occasioned such widespread controversy is an eloquent comment on the poverty of contemporary politics. One searches it in vain for a definite, tangible, constructive proposal upon which one can fasten and say, “Here is a gleam of hope for the workers.”' It was thickly besprinkled with woolly phrases such as: “Suspicion must be removed"; “all must join hands to pull the country into a happier position”; “all concerned in industry should try and get to the root of this kind of thing” ; “all should take counsel together and see where and how improvement can be made in this country, to achieve the desired result ”; “a common desire to get at the facts and a common desire to help things”—and so on. Just strings of windy bubbles, floating on a morass of verbiage. One bubble was not so gaseous as its fellows, but Mr. Baldwin did not know it. It was the text of his discourse: “I want to plead for a truce.” This, beyond a doubt, is a direct admission of the existence of a state of industrial war. Socialists have been engaged in pointing this out for upwards of a century. We call it the class struggle. In spite of Mr. Baldwin’s candid admission, you will find its existence regularly denied at least once a week. For what is a truce? An agreed temporary peace between belligerents. And who are the belligerents? Mr. Baldwin defined them in his opening sentences. We should have said “Capital and Labour,” or the “Workers versus the Parasites,” the “Rich versus the Poor,” or something equally trite and explicit. Mr. Baldwin phrased it differently. He said, “This country would be confronted more and more with great combines and great aggregations of labour.” And now, he said, when there seemed a faint hope of revival, we were confronted with a gathering storm which, if it burst, would blot out all prosperity. “All prosperity"! So there is some prosperity about somewhere. Are we very far wrong in assuming that the struggle the truce is to suspend is concerned with this prosperity and its position on the wrong side of the line? We know it is not on the workers' side. My. Baldwin, therefore, must be speaking for the other, the masters'. Behind the homely, pathetic figure of Mr. Baldwin we discern, without the aid of binoculars, the sinister figures of his employers. Ruthless, callous, malignant, and vindictive, the phalanx of capitalism is packed at his back. And having battered the workers to the edge of endurance, their spokesman suggests a truce. One feels tempted to reply:

   Mr. Baldwin and Friends,—We are deeply touched by your moving appeal for a truce in our embittered relations. Naturally a peace-loving, easy-going crowd, we are not entirely unsympathetic. But there are certain facts which seem to have escaped your notice. We would remind you that in ten short years you have succeeded in burying a million of us beneath Flanders' mud, and in maiming a further million or two preparatory to returning us to civil life. That civil life contains elements we do not consider altogether satisfactory. A million and a quarter of us seem condemned to perpetual unemployment. You endeavour to keep us from becoming troublesome by a niggardly, inadequate sum to which you attach the insulting term “the dole." Those of us fortunate enough to find masters have had our wages battered down to a point inconsistent with a full and joyous existence. Your promise of a land fit for heroes was a mockery; of better education for our children, a bitter jest. You cannot even house us. Your pleas of poverty and lack of funds are falsified by the millions found for rebuilding banks, stores, and offices on the most valuable sites in London; by the millions found annually for battleships and armies; by the constant oversubscription of gilt-edged loans. And we are sick of it. We are tired at playing Lazarus at the feast we have provided. We are—   

But we said one feels TEMPTED to reply in those terms. One quickly realises that he and his masters would be as deeply impressed by our oratorical flourishes as we are by theirs. We remember that “the rich will do anything for the poor, except get off their backs.” That is our sole concern—to get the rich off our backs. Speeches have their uses, but they will not do that. It is action that counts, and when' the workers decide to act intelligently and with knowledge they will not be fobbed off with speeches. Prosperity for the rich and poverty for the poor are inseparable. The one is the consequence of the other. To talk of a truce in such circumstances is to imply that we enjoy being robbed. There can be no truce between those who live by robbery, and their victims. The only concession one can make is to recognise that the division of society into two warring classes does not proceed from human wickedness or simple perversity. But it has proceeded from traceable historic causes, and having discovered its laws of growth, we can now guide the progress of society into a more harmonious form, wherein classes shall cease to exist, and class-war have no place. This is the mission of the working class, and by joining the Socialist Party each can take a part in inaugurating the new human society.

W. T. Hopley