(a) Democracy

THE starting-point of the Middle Class Political Revolution is the struggle for democracy, and upon the extent to which this Revolution has removed the vestiges of feudalism will depend the strength of democratic institutions in the middle class State.

These institutions do not attain the same degree of development in every middle class State, as they are conditioned by the level of social development at the time of the Middle Class Revolution and the distribution of power among the various classes within the Third Estate, which is usually designated as the people. Complete democracy is never established at one blow, and is generally liable to set-backs. Thus the task of the Revolution has to be revived and continued in subsequent movements. Of no middle class State are we able to say that it has established complete democracy, and that the fight for the latter is won.

But every middle class revolution establishes a certain number of democratic institutions, whilst capitalist development, especially the growth of communications, prepares the ground which makes the democratic movement irresistible much earlier than the Labour movement.

A large instalment of democracy has been obtained in any country where the working class has progressed to the point at which it can contemplate with some hope of success the seizure of political power, and consequently the carrying out of the Labour Revolution. This is a symptom as well as a prerequisite of the ripeness of the State and of the working class for Socialism.

Democracy is a barometer which permits the strength and the political intelligence of the working class to be measured. Moreover, it is a means for nourishing this strength, as indispensable as the capitalist mode of production itself.

It is obvious that the existence of democracy creates forms for the Labour Revolution that are fundamentally different from those of the Middle Class Revolution.

However much Marx may have recognized that the Labour Revolution would differ from the Middle Class Revolution, in 1852 he was not in a position to discern wherein this distinction would lie, for in no European State at that time had democracy made such progress and rooted itself so firmly as to have given a new content to the proletarian class struggle.

At that time a thoroughgoing democracy could only have been spoken of in connection with the United States of America, a colonial country with wide tracts of free soil, with an enormous majority of peasants and a small minority of industrial workers, whose most energetic members were not inspired by a socialistic ideal, but aimed at acquiring an independent peasant holding or climbing into the middle class. In this country there was as yet no pronounced differentiation of classes. Democratic institutions indeed existed, but a proletariat with developed class-consciousness, which strove for political power, was lacking.

The Swiss cantonal democracy was extremely petty and disproportionate. In the economically backward cantons an extensive democratic system survived from the dim past, from the period of the Mark community. It was not until towards the middle of the nineteenth century that democracy was established in the industrially advanced cantons. It had influenced political habits so little at that time that the forties were the period of insurrections and of civil war in Switzerland, which, however, usually lasted but a few days, and involved the spilling of more wine than blood.

It was not until the last third of the nineteenth century that democracy in Europe ceased to be an isolated and local curiosity, and became a universal phenomenon which influenced the whole of political and social life. The turning-point was the year 1867, which in England saw the reform of the franchise, whereby at least the aristocracy of labour received the vote. In the same year the North German Confederation, the precursor of the German Empire, was founded upon the basis of universal suffrage, and there arose in Austria the liberal era of “citizen ministries,” whose freedom-loving middle class members elected a prince as their president. And in the year 1867 the new political orientation commenced in Napoleonic France, accompanied by rather feeble concessions, which did not prevent the collapse of the Empire and the advent of the Republic in 7870.

The effects of democracy upon class struggles did not become perceptible until the seventies, and even then the results were at first rather meagre, in view of the numerous setbacks, especially the reaction which followed the Communist rising in Paris, and which lasted from 1871 to 1879, and the Socialist proscription in Germany from 1878 to 1890.

As Marx was unable to observe what effect the growth of democratic liberties would exert upon the political struggle, it is all the more remarkable that in 1872, at the conclusion of the Hague Congress of the International, he declared:

“We know that the institutions, the manners and the customs of the various countries must be considered, and we do not deny that there are countries, like England and America, and, if I understood your arrangements better, I might add Holland, where the worker may attain his object by peaceful means. But not in all countries is this the case.”

On two occasions I have drawn the attention of the Bolshevists to this sentence, in my Dictatorship of the Proletariat and then in Terrorism and Communism.

So far as I know, the Communists, who swear by Marx, have made no attempt to discuss this sentence, nor have they even taken any notice of it.

At a later date Engels dealt with the same question in a criticism he made of a draft programme in 1891, where he said:

“It is conceivable that the old society may peacefully evolve into the new in countries where popular representation has gathered to itself all the power, where one may do what one likes constitutionally, as soon as the majority of the people is behind one; in democratic republics like France and America, in monarchies like England, where the dynasty is powerless against the popular will.

“But in Germany, where the Government is practically omnipotent, and the Reichstag and other representative bodies have no power, to proclaim anything of that sort, and that without any need, is to take off the fig-leaf from absolutism, and to screen its nakedness by one’s own body.”

The last paragraph of the above quotation from Engels was quoted textually by Lenin in his State and Revolution, but the first paragraph he paraphrases by saying:

“Following Engels, one can conceive a peaceful development for those countries which possess extensive liberties.”

Lenin thought this inconvenient sentence was robbed of all its force by underlining the words “one can conceive.”

One of the first effects of democracy is that the masses are enabled to organize for specific political or economic objects, and that enrolled in these organizations they maintain constant contact with each other, gather experience, and make leaders of their most gifted and trustworthy comrades.

The mass conflicts in the Middle Class Revolution are fought out in the streets by sections of the population, which, lacking cohesion otherwise, are driven by a sudden political impulse out of their dwellings and workplaces. Contagious excitement goads them to common action, without preparation or plan, following leaders who are the choice of the moment. They are guided chiefly by their instincts and needs, and rumours and illusions take the place of experience and political knowledge.

The struggles of the political Labour Revolution for the conquest of political power by the workers are conducted by great organizations, which have existed for decades, possessing great experience, ample training, well-considered programmes; and leaders who are as famous as they are trustworthy.

The leaders of the Middle Class Revolution were novices who had suddenly become prominent, and of whom the world had known nothing previously. It seemed as if this revolution possessed creative power, judging from the number of political geniuses which it produced, whose careers, however, were as short-lived as they were brilliant, being mere comets flashing across the political sky.

On the other hand, the Labour Revolution that has just begun has not produced any new genius, not because the sections of the population now coming to the fore lack talented persons, but because these persons had an opportunity o£ showing what they were capable of before the Revolution, and of revealing their qualifications to be leaders of their class movement.

Even the present Russian Revolution, which exhibits to such a marked degree all the characteristics of a middle class revolution, found in the general democratic atmosphere of Europe in pre-revolutionary days so many opportunities, at least among the emigration, for developing its talent for leadership, that even it has not produced a solitary new leader of importance. Its Marats and Robespierres, Dantons and Carnots, etc., were well-known comrades long before the Revolution, such as Lenin and Trotsky, Radek and Zinoviev, etc, The Labour Revolution does not produce new parties any more than new leaders. On the other hand, the Middle Class Revolution first creates the conditions which permit the formation of parties, and the parties actively engaged in furthering the Revolution are all of its own creation.

In the present Revolution the Communist Party at the most may be regarded as an innovation, but even this, as an organization, is only a continuation and extension of the Bolshevist Party which existed long before the war. Its programme at any rate is new. It may boast of being the completion and most logical application of old-time Marxism, but in all that distinguishes it from the programme of Social Democracy, it is entirely a child of the Russian Revolution

Born of the Russian Revolution, the Communist Party will cease to exert any influence on the working class when the effects of that Revolution have been dissipated. In a real Labour revolution, which breaks out where the workers as a class have captured political power, the Communist Party, which constitutes a mere sect, will no longer play any part. Victory will fall to the Social Democratic Party, which is wide enough to include all the class-conscious workers, and it will be its task to employ the political power thus acquired to carry out a socialistic transformation.

Such a victory will not come like a thief in the night, as the preliminary struggle is being fought out on the basis of democracy. In this respect also the Labour Revolution differs from the Middle Class Revolution. In the feudal and absolute State, any kind of open political life was impossible, just as it is in present-day Russia. The population knew nothing definite about the Government, its resources, its finances, etc., nothing of the various Court tendencies upon which the government depended: The Government knew just as little of the currents of thought among the population, of its strength and its determination. In these circumstances, the Revolution comes in the form of a surprise, an elemental event which upsets all calculations. The revolt can only triumph through the suddenness of its outbreak, which causes the ruling powers to lose their heads, exposes their confusion and wavering to the world, paralyses their defenders, and encourages their opponents.

One of the consequences of the blindness of absolutism to existing conditions is that its concessions which, if offered at the right time, would have satisfied the people for a period, always come too late when they come at all. Thus an absolutist regime constantly ends in complete collapse, in a terrible catastrophe, which is all the more devastating as force is the only arbitrament which absolutism knows in internal and external policy. Against democrats only soldiers are of any use, William the first Emperor of Germany was fond of saying. And William the last Emperor was of the same opinion. Both were steeped in absolutist modes of thought.

The case is otherwise with democracy. Democratic institutions which include universal suffrage enable every change in the thoughts and feelings of the masses and in their relative strength to be clearly discerned. This perception restrains the rising class from many premature attacks, for which its strength would not be adequate. The same perception causes a ruling class voluntarily to evacuate many positions whose untenableness it has recognized, and whose stubborn defence would involve it in a defeat, which might culminate in disaster. The struggles of insurgents with Government troops is supplanted by the struggles of parties to win supporters through the agency of the press and public meetings; the struggles of parties to secure a majority in parliamentary elections.

As a rule this method excludes the element of great surprises-the arena of conflict is occupied by parties with which the people have long been familiar, and the people themselves are politically educated and know what is to be expected from each party.

Democracy does not, however, entirely exclude political surprises, for social life does not always repeat itself in the same way, and novel situations may suddenly arise, especially in foreign politics, which would confuse the people in such a manner that the outcome could not be foreseen. Moreover, even under the best democratic institutions, a section of the population lives amid conditions which prevent it from taking a regular part in political life. This section has to be aroused by the stimulus of great events before it plays any part in political decisions. It does this without knowledge and without consideration, being moved by its feelings and instincts. It may happen that this section will turn the scale and decide the fate of the nation when the striving parties are of approximately equal strength.

This tendency sometimes works most disastrously, yet we need not exaggerate its importance. A strong party which is firmly rooted in democratic institutions never suffers a crushing defeat. If for the moment it fails to win a majority, this fact is an incentive to enlighten and train the backward masses, which had turned the decision against it, in order to embark upon the next attempt with increased strength and better prospect of success.

If these considerations apply to democracy in general, they have a special importance for the political revolution of the working class which is accomplished under democratic conditions. Democracy makes it possible for this revolution to be peaceful, bloodless, and without coercion; democracy also ensures that this revolution will occur with a lesser degree of wonder and produce fewer new champions and new programmes than was the case with the Middle Class Revolution. Consequently, the Labour Revolution is less dramatic and provides fewer sensations for eager journalists; it is more prosaic and less extravagant than the Middle Class Revolution. The fact that the present Russian Revolution is rich in dramatic episodes shows once more that it is actually a middle class revolution, in spite of the intentions of its leading personalities.

Against the peaceful development of the Labour Revolution it is contended that no ruling class voluntarily relinquishes its privileged position. Doubtless this is perfectly true. It would be foolish to imagine that a ruling class could be persuaded into withdrawing from the field, or that the progress of civilization will ever imbue the capitalist class with so much social spirit that it will abdicate all its positions without contest to the workers.

If I am reminded of August 4, 1789, when the nobles of the French National Assembly enthusiastically renounced their feudal privileges, I would say that this was voluntary in appearance only, and was actually carried out under the pressure of a formidable peasant revolt, which threatened the nobles with the expropriation or the destruction of all their possessions, unless the peasants were pacified by the renunciation of feudal privileges.

The workers will certainly not win political power unless they already represent a strong and even preponderating force. The importance of democracy lies in the fact that the magnitude of this force may be clearly perceived, without having recourse to armed conflict.

Whether votes are a power or not depends upon the type of men who cast them. If the voters are shiftless persons who only live by the favour of the rich, or wage-earners whose mentality is such that they regard the capitalists as “bread givers,” such workers will certainly not capture political power through the votes they cast. So far as they possess the vote at all, they will rather be inclined to sell the political power which it represents to the highest bidder.

The case is different with workers in a society which they sustain and which would collapse without them. When the workers form a majority and are conscious of their importance to society, their voting for the Socialist Party signifies that they have recognized their strength and are determined to make use of it.

Of course the vote is only a power within democracy. It would be foolish to attempt to wage the struggle for democracy itself with the agencies of democracy. By peaceful means democracy is neither to be wrested from nor defended against a regime of coercion. This is often overlooked.

Until a short time ago a large fragment of arbitrary power still inhered to the installment of democracy that had been conquered in the great States of the European Continent. They were all strongly centralized military States, and most of them military monarchies. Even in the French Republic so many vestiges have survived from the period of the Empire that it has often been called an empire without an emperor.

In these cases complete democracy has first to be conquered. But how else than through the violent overthrow of the constitution could the military monarchies have been overcome? Mere votes are not sufficient against them.

The progress that our party made through. manhood suffrage, in spite of the military monarchy, caused many of our comrades to hope that the working class would be able to secure political power under the monarchy by peaceful means, that is to say, the Labour invasion of the strongholds of power would be so imperceptible that the military monarchy itself would not perceive how it was losing its positions one after another.

There were Socialists who even opined that the interest of the monarchy itself could be enlisted in favour of Socialism, if the latter were presented as a means of satisfying the appetite for conquest, especially in colonial policy.

The idea that the forcible overthrow of the monarchy and the revolution which this act implied could be circumvented by a process of gradual reforms, was known as the reformist conception in contrast to the revolutionary conception. Around these conceptions revolved our hottest party conflicts in the two decades preceding the war. The discussion is now only of academic interest, as the Revolution which was to have been averted by reforms actually came.

So far we revolutionaries proved to be right. But matters worked out rather differently from what we had expected.

The whole middle class world had made its peace with the military monarchy; the working class alone strove for the democratic Republic. We were therefore of opinion that the Republic would not be established until the working class was strong enough to settle accounts with the whole of the possessing classes. We anticipated that the advent of the Republic would coincide with the conquest of political power by the workers, and that the democratic German Republic would of necessity be a social-democratic republic.

This expectation would probably have been realized if the monarchy had been overthrown from within. Nor was it a prospect of the dim and distant future. The more the growing power of Social Democracy was expressed through general suffrage, the nearer was our prospect of gaining a majority in the Reichstag, the more rapidly the decisive conflict with the monarchy approached.

But before matters came to this point, the monarchy unchained that senseless war which led to its military collapse. At this date the German working class was so strong that the military collapse before the external foe was followed by the political collapse in the Empire. But the working class was not strong enough to be able to maintain the power which the catastrophe placed in its hands, especially as the war had weakened its ranks, demoralized many of its members, and disrupted its most revolutionary sections. Instead of presenting a united front to its middle class opponents, the working class was ravaged by internecine strife.

Thus its achievements did not amount to more than the abolition of the military monarchy and the introduction of a few social reforms, particularly the eight-hour day.

Now the old antagonism between revolutionaries and reformers seems to have cropped up again. But in reality this antagonism in this post-revolutionary epoch is only a “useless admonition” to “futile strife.”

The Republican Constitution, which is one of the products of the Revolution, despite its defects, provides the socialistic working class with sufficient opportunities to gain political power by peaceful means.

This Constitution is not yet so secure that the working class may not have to resort to force in order to defend it. But the workers have not the slightest excuse to desire forcibly to subvert it.

He who in Germany to-day speaks of a forcible upheaval and a revival of the Revolution in these terms, reminds one of a man who, because he was justified in announcing the imminent sunrise at 3 a.m., thinks he owes it to his principles to announce the coming sunset at noon.

These revolutionaries of to-day belittle their own work of yesterday. They overlook the tremendous changes brought about by the Revolution of yesterday, of 1918, and the fact that it has completely changed the conditions which govern the struggle for power.

Our present task is not the forcible overthrow of the constitution, but the fullest utilization of the democratic rights that it confers. It is Labour unity, and not the idea of upheaval, which will assist the German workers at the present time to capture political power. The revival of the antagonism between revolutionaries and reformers, which blocks the path to unity, is now only an obstacle to the advent of Labour rule, to the Social Revolution, to the supplanting of capitalism by socialism, at which all we Socialists are aiming, however we may be designated.