II. (3)

In what relation does the existence or non-existence of a middle class stand to the possibility or inevitability of Socialism? It is generally assumed that, according to Marx, all the middle class must disappear and society become divided into a handful of capitalistic millionaires on the one hand and poor workingmen on the other before a socialist form of society can supplant our present capitalist system. There is, however, no warrant for such an assumption. Marx nowhere says so expressly. Nor is there anything in Marx's historico-philosophical views, that is, in his Materialistic Conception of History, from which such a conclusion could rightfully be drawn. All that that theory implies is that the evolution of society depends entirely on the development of its economic forces. And in those passages of his great work where Marx speaks of the evolution of society from Capitalism to Socialism, it is only the social forces of production and distribution that claim his attention. But Marx is no fatalist. He does not believe that society develops automatically without the aid of the human beings who compose it, or of the social classes into which it is divided. He takes into consideration the human beings with which these social forces work. This is, in fact, the essence of his theory of the class-struggle. In this respect the different social classes have, according to his theory, their bearings on the evolution of society.

In his analysis of the evolutionary tendencies of the capitalist system Marx notes and accentuates the presence of a tendency to eliminate the small bourgeois or middle-class which he believes to be rapidly disappearing. He lays great stress on this point, and evidently believes it to be a movement of very great importance in the evolution of capitalism towards socialism. A careful reading of Marx, however, will not fail to disclose the fact that Marx did not consider the complete disappearance of that class all-essential, and that it was only the disappearance of that particular middle-class of which he treated that he considered of any importance at all. In other words, it was not the entire absence of any middle-class or social stratum between the big capitalists and the workingmen, that he considered of importance for the realization of his socialist ideals, but it is the presence of a certain particular class, possessing certain particular characteristics (or at least its presence in any such great numbers as would lend it social strength) that he considered obnoxious to the movement of society toward socialism. In order to understand thoroughly the Marxian position on this question we must consider his general estimate of the different classes or strata of society as factors in the evolution of society from capitalism to socialism. And that, again, we can only understand if we consider them in the light of the Materialistic Conception of History. This we shall now proceed to do.

Our readers are already familiar with the Marxian philosophy of history from the discussion in the early chapters of this work. We have there shown the absurdity of the claim that Marx and his followers denied the influence of ideas on the course of history. Here we want to go a step further and say that, in a sense, Marx was one of the most idealistic of philosophers. And the sense in which we mean this is in relation to this very question of the influence of ideas. Marx believed in the reality of ideas, both as to origin and influence. There were philosophers who, like Hegel, did not believe in the reality of our material world. They believed that the only real world was the world of ideas, and that the material world was only a manifestation of the development of the absolute idea which developed according to laws of development contained within itself. To such philosophers there could, of course, be no question of the influence of ideas on the course of history. To them there was nothing real in the whole course of history except this development of the idea. These philosophers are, of course, the real idealists (and, incidentally, more deterministic than Marx). But of those philosophers who believe in the materiality of the material world, Marx is easily foremost in the reality which he ascribes to ideas. According to Marx, ideas are firmly rooted in reality and are therefore of abiding influence while they last, and not easily susceptible of change. In this he radically differs from whose to whom ideas have a mere aerial existence, coming from the land of nowhere, without any particular reason in our historic existence and, therefore, vanishing without regard to our social environment, its needs or tribulations. This Marxian esteem of ideas must always be borne in mind when discussing the influence of the human being as a factor in the making of his own history. Let us, therefore, keep it in mind in the following discussion.

What are the characteristics of the socialist system of society in which it differs chiefly from our present capitalist system? First, the social ownership of the means of production— the absence of private property in them. Secondly, the carrying on of all industry on a co-operative basis— the absence of industrial individual enterprise. Thirdly, the management of all industrial enterprise democratically — all “captains” of industry and all other industrial dignitaries to be elective instead of appointed by divine prerogative, and to hold office by the consent and during the pleasure of the governed.

Now let us see what classes of our present society are suited to bring about such changes, and which are not. The bearer of the socialist revolution is the modern Proletariat. It is the class of the proletarians that has the historic mission of tearing down the capitalist system of society. Remember well: not the poor man, nor the workingman, but the proletarian, is going to do this work. There were poor men before, so were there workingmen. But they were not proletarians. So may there be poor now, and even poor workingmen, who are not proletarians. The modern proletarian is not merely a poor man, nor is he necessarily a poor man in the ordinary sense of the word. Nor is he merely a workingman, although he necessarily is one. He is a workingman— usually poor at that— under peculiar historic conditions. Those conditions are that he is not possessed of any property, that is, the only property that counts socially,— means of production. By reason of this condition he is placed in certain social relations, both as to his own kind and as to his social betters, as well as to the social machinery. Through this he acquires certain characteristics of mind and body, a certain mentality and psychology which make him peculiarly fitted for his historic mission.

We will not attempt to give here an exhaustive description of his mental and psychological nature. We will only denote his character by a contrast: he is in every way just the reverse of the peasant. He had to be that, according to Marx, in order to be a fitting instrument for the carrying out of his historical mission. Marx's attitude towards the peasant is most characteristic. The peasant was a positive abhorrence to him, and he eliminated him from his promised land. This had the peculiar consequence that in countries where the peasantry is now undergoing the process of “capitalization,” as in Russia, for instance, the Marxists have been accused by the peasant-loving Utopians of all sorts of horrible designs against the poor peasants. Of course, Marx and the Marxists have nothing but compassion for the poor peasant. But, besides seeing clearly the hopelessness of their case, they recognize the fact that the peasant, were he to exist, would be the greatest obstacle in the way of socialism. First let us note his ideas as to property. By reason of his occupation and the environment in which he and his forefathers have lived for ages, he has contracted such a love for his land, his house, his cattle, and everything else which he calls his own, that he will find it more difficult to separate from them than a millionaire from his millions. Their worthlessness has nothing to do with the case: their value can hardly be measured in money. This colors all his ideas about property. He and his forefathers before him have lived on this particular spot of land, and all his family history is connected with it. Here are buried the labors and sufferings of generations. All his own woes, and his pleasant memories (if he has any) are intimately associated with this patch of ground. Here he was born and here he hopes to die. Every tree, every building, is the result of his own and his family's great cares and labors. Every animal is his friend and companion in toil and misery. Most of them have been reared by him, even as were his own children. He will not enter the promised land if he has to give up his ruined, worthless, tax-eaten property for it. The “sacredness” of property rights to the peasant, the tenacity with which he holds on to it, is well recognized by those who have studied his character. This “idea” of his as to private property, in view of his stolidity and immobility, due to the immobility of his surroundings and the sameness of the methods and nature of his work, would make him an inveterate enemy of socialism and a stout upholder of capitalism. But, aside from this, he is unfitted for a socialist society, and particularly unfitted to make a fight for it, because of his inability to co-operate with others. A peasant is the greatest individualist imaginable, at least as far as boorishness, suspicion, opinionatedness, and the other “individualist” virtues are concerned. For centuries he has led an isolated and self-sufficient existence. He lived by his own toil without the help of others. He never came into contact with others except to be robbed and oppressed and occasionally to be cheated. No wonder he is such an individualist. Nor has he been fitted by the countless generations of oppression which he has undergone, or by the work to which he is accustomed, to the arduous and complicated duties of a self-governed industrial community. All this would make the old-fashioned peasant an inveterate enemy of socialism, notwithstanding his great poverty and ruined existence, if he were to survive. But he is not to survive. We cannot enter here upon a discussion of the so-called agrarian problem. One thing may be stated, however, without any fear of contradiction: the old peasant, as Marx knew him, and the old economic surroundings and social environment which produced him, are no more, except in very backward countries, and there they are disappearing before the onward march of capitalism. With the old-fashioned peasant passes away the mainstay of private property and the bulwark of reaction. There is no other social class that could quite fill his place in this respect.

The bourgeois has few of the characteristics of the peasant. He is quick and always on the qui vive. His love and attachment for property are not as pronounced as those of the peasant. He has not the kind of property which becomes individualized and may be personified. He has himself produced none of it. He cannot form any lasting friendship with his stock of goods or the machines used in his manufactory. They are liable to constant change and can be easily supplanted by others of their kind. In most cases it is in their quick disposal that his chief advantage lies, and he parts from them without regret. As a matter of fact he never cared about them: it is their money value or equivalent that is dear to him. In other words, it is not the property itself that he values or cares for, but the advantage derived from its possession; although in some cases, particularly where business is done in the old-fashioned way, and life is arranged correspondingly, there may be some love of property as such with reference to some kinds of property: usually the place of business or abode and its furnishings and belongings.

With these characteristics the bourgeois is ill-adapted to take the place of the peasant as a defender of property and of reaction. Yet, Marx considers his disappearance of considerable importance for the inauguration of the socialist state. Why?

To the vulgar materialists who insist on calling themselves Marxists this question presents no difficulty. They reduce the Materialist Conception of History to the simple formula: “everybody for his own pocket.” And as the pockets of the bourgeoisie are presumably going to be injured by the transformation from capitalism to socialism, that class must necessarily be against the change, and therefore it must be removed in some way in order to pave the way for socialism. This perversion of the Materialistic Conception of History is, unfortunately, very widespread, and for good reason: It is a reproduction of the practice and theory of capitalism. Of the “common” practice, of course, but also of the very highest theory of which capitalism is capable. It is, in effect, a mere paraphrase of the “intelligent egoism”— the greatest height to which the capitalist intellect could rise. The fact that this theory can easily be proven to be logically absurd and historically false will not diminish its vogue as long as the condition to which it owes its origin remains unchanged. Only gradually, following in the wake of the economic changes, and at a distance at that, will a truer understanding force its way.

Except in the case of seers like Marx. With all his dislike for the bourgeoisie Marx never believed that all bourgeois, or their intellectual and moral leaders, simply followed the dictates of their pockets, personal or otherwise, as can easily be seen from numerous passages scattered in his many writings, and particularly in the “18th of Brumaire.”

What makes the bourgeois character unfit for socialist co-operation, and his ideology one of the chief mainstays of capitalism, is the independence which the possession of property gives him. While he has no particular love for his property, or, to be more exact, for the objects of his property, he values very much the independent social status which the possession of property gives him, no matter what this property consists of. As a matter of fact it is not the particular property that he is concerned about, but its social exchange-value. For the purpose of his social status it is not the actual objects of his property that count, but the social attributes and possibilities which attach to all property. That is why he stands up for the abstract principle of private property, something which the peasant is very little concerned about as long as its practical enjoyment is not interfered with. The social existence of the old-fashioned bourgeois, his everyday economic life, make him accustomed to strive for and cherish this independence founded upon the possession of property, and his ideology becomes decidedly individualistic. In his foremost intellectual representatives this crystallizes into some such system as that of Herbert Spencer, and looks upon socialism as a form of slavery. The alertness and aggressiveness of the class only accentuate the craving of each individual for absolute economic freedom, for being let alone to fight the battles of life. And the success of the class only whets its appetite for further conquests, and makes it impatient of any restraint, while its intellectual achievements give it one of the brightest weapons ever wielded by a ruling class.

A good deal has been written and said about the supposed great influence of force as a social factor, and again the vulgar materialists have contributed their little share to the general confusion. Of course brute force has been and will be used by all ruling classes, both in acquiring and maintaining their dominion. But brute force alone never did, and never could, sustain a ruling class for any considerable length of time. In order to see the correctness of this assertion it is sufficient to bring to mind the fact that the ruling class is always a minority, usually a small one, of the population of a country, and that, taken man for man, the members of the ruling class seldom possess more physical strength than the members of the subject class. The force of the ruling class is not natural but acquired, and is social in its character. It consists in its organization, which permits it to use part of the strength of the subject class, and sometimes the whole of it, for the subjugation of that class. Sometimes the mere fact of its own organized condition may be sufficient to hold the superior but disorganized force of the subject-class in awe and trembling. But even then it is not mere brute force, for organization itself is a moral and not a physical force. This is evidenced by our language; we speak of a physically superior force, which is incapable of properly exerting itself for lack of proper organization and discipline, as being “demoralized.” This applies, however, only in exceptional cases. Usually the ruling class depends on something outside its own organization to maintain its supremacy. This something is the social organization of the whole community or nation. It is by using the power of the whole social system for its own purposes that the ruling class is able to maintain its supremacy at a time when that is clearly against the general interest or against the interest of large portions of the subject class or classes.

The basis of this social power exercised by the ruling class is usually the economic system in vogue, which makes the subject-class economically necessarily dependent upon the ruling class. But this does not always suffice. Very often, therefore, the ruling class depends, to some extent at least, on purely moral suasion for the continuance of its power. Religion was, therefore, from time immemorial, the handmaid of the temporal power, except where it was itself a temporal power and thus united in itself the functions of mistress and maid. With the waning of religion and the passing of its influence, science and philosophy have taken its place, and usually perform the same functions with equal alacrity and facility. That does not mean, of course, that either religion or science and philosophy were invented by the ruling classes in order to keep the subject classes in bondage. The ruling classes merely make use— sometimes proper and sometimes improper— of a means which they find at hand. The point is that usually the lower classes get their “ideas”— their religion, science, art, philosophy— from the upper classes, and these are apt to be such as express and represent— in short “idealize”— the mode of life of those classes and the principles underlying the same. This is always true when the lower class depends on the upper for its economic existence. At such times the economic virility of the ruling class expresses itself in a buoyant and aggressive ideology which seems to, and often does, express the interests and aspirations of society as a whole. But no ruling class has ever had such a great opportunity of exercising such great moral or ideal influence on its subject class as has the bourgeoisie, owing to the great and manifold development of the arts and sciences during the time it held its sway. This unprecedented wealth of ideas has had the remarkable effect, first of all, of making the bourgeoisie itself drunk with its power and almost mad in its desires and aspirations. No king has ever believed himself more God-chosen to rule than has the bourgeoisie, nor has any ruling class ever laid such pretensions to the absoluteness and immutability of the laws of its rule as does the bourgeoisie. Or, rather, we should say, as did the bourgeoisie in the heyday of its power. And while it was in the heyday of its power the bourgeoisie managed to permeate the working class with its ideals, habits and modes of thought, perhaps more than any ruling class ever influenced a subject class. This was due, on the one hand, to the unprecedentedly large extent to which the working class has been permitted to participate in the benefits resulting from the general spread of knowledge, and on the other hand to the peculiarly forcible way in which the economic argument is brought home to the modern workingman. Under no preceding social system have the economic woes of the ruling class been so quickly and with such dreadful effect reflected to the subject-class. We must never, therefore, forget the great importance which the influence of the bourgeois ideology has on the modern proletariat, particularly in the early stages of its development, although, as we shall see later, during and by virtue of its development it formulates an ideology of its own.

The capitalistic “ideas” and habits of mind are inculcated into the working class by the capitalist class, intentionally and unintentionally, by and through its lower stratum, or what is usually called the “middle class.” So long as there is a large and virile middle class the working class will be largely under its domination and influence, morally and aesthetically. It is with this class that the working class comes into immediate contact socially. It is on this class that the workingman fixes his hopes and aspirations for the future. It is this class that teaches him at kindergarten and at school, that preaches to him at church and in “ethical” societies, and it is this class that gathers and sifts for him the news of the world and explains it to him in his daily newspaper, and gives him his popular science, his art and his “literature.”

It is because of those “ideal” characteristics of the old-fashioned bourgeoisie, the old middle-class of capitalist society, and even more so because of the “ideal” influences of that class on the working class, that Marx considered its disappearance of such great importance in the movement of society towards socialism. That is, in so far as he considered such disappearance of any moment in itself, outside of its being a mere indication of the movement of the economic forces of society. For it must always be borne in mind that it is the development of the economic forces that is the real power working for socialism, and any influence which any class or group of men may have on that movement, except as an expression of such development, is merely secondary.