The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 10

Yet Lassalle's title to greatness must lie less in what he himself achieved than in the achievements of others in his name. He founded a political party; others have made that party great. But the most signal service is the service of the founder, for to found a party is to generate a living organism which will, in the fullness of time, express the purposes and unite the energies of millions. So it has been with the party of Lassalle. Like the husbandman who casts his seed on good ground, he implanted the germs of the Social-Democracy in the hearts of his country's workingmen when the time was ripe for the sowing. It is enough to secure his fame that he had the vision to see that the time was ripe and the strength to break the ground.

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FERDINAND LASSALLE

THE WORKINGMEN'S PROGRAMME (1862)TRANSLATED BY E.H. BABBITT, A.B

Assistant Professor of German, Tufts College

Gentlemen: Requested to deliver an address before you, I have thought it best to choose, and to treat in a strictly scientific way, a subject, which, from its nature, must be particularly interesting to you, namely, the special relation of the character of the historical period in which we are living to the idea of a working class.

I have said that my treatment of the subject will be purely scientific.

A true scientific attitude, however, is nothing more than perfect clearness, and therefore the complete separation of our thinking from any preconceived notion. For the sake of this complete absence of preconceived notions with which we must approach the subject, it will even be necessary, in the course of the discussion, to form a clear conception of what we really mean by the term "workingmen" or "working class." For even on this point we must not admit any preconceived notion, as if these terms were something perfectly well understood—which is by no means the case. The language of common life very frequently attaches at different times different conceptions to the words "workingman" or "working class," and we must therefore, in due time, get a clear conception as to what meaning we will attach to these designations.

With this problem, however, we are not concerned at the present moment. We must rather begin this presentation with a different question: The working class is only one class among several which together form the body politic, and there have been workingmen at every historical period. How, then, is it possible, and what does the statement mean, that a particular connection exists between the idea of this special definite class and the principle of the particular historical period in which we are living?

To understand this it is desirable to take a glance into history—into the past, which properly interpreted, here, as everywhere, gives us the key to the present and points out to us an outline of the future. In this retrospect we must be as brief as possible, or we shall be in danger (in the short time which is before us) of not reaching at all the essential subject of the discussion. But even at this risk we shall at least be obliged to cast such a glance into the past, even if it is limited to the most general considerations, in order to understand the import of our question and of our subject.

If, then, we go back to the Middle Ages, we shall find, in general, that the same classes and divisions of the population which today compose the body politic were already in existence, although by no means so fully developed; but we find, furthermore, that at that time one class, one element, is predominate—the landholding element. It is land proprietorship which in the Middle Ages is the controlling influence in every particular, which has put its own special stamp upon all the institutions and upon the whole life of the time: it must be pronounced the ruling principle of that period.

The reason why land ownership is the ruling principle of that time is a very simple one. It lies—at least this reason is quite sufficient for our present purposes—in the economic conditions of the Middle Ages and in the state of development of production. Commerce was then very slightly developed, manufactures still less. The chief wealth of every community consisted, in greatest measure, in the products of agriculture.

Personal property at that time, in comparison with the ownership of real estate, came only slightly into consideration; how far this was the case is shown very plainly by property law, which always gives a very clear criterion for the economic relations of the period in which it arises. Medieval property law, for instance, with the object of holding the property of families from generation to generation and protecting it from dissipation, declared family property or "estate" inalienable without the consent of the heirs; but by this family property or "estate" was expressly understood only real estate. Personal or portable property, on the other hand, could be disposed of without the consent of the heirs; and in general all personal property was treated by the old German law not as an independent self-perpetuating basis of property (capital), but always as the fruit of the soil—in the same way, for instance, as the annual crop from the soil—and was subject to the same legal conditions as the latter. Nothing but real estate was then regularly treated as an independent self-perpetuating basis of property. It is therefore entirely in keeping with this condition of things, and a simple consequence of it, that landed property and those who had it in their hands almost exclusively—the nobility and clergy—formed the ruling factor, from every point of view, in the society of that period.

Whatever institution of the Middle Ages you may consider, you meet this phenomenon at every point. It will suffice us to glance at a few of the most essential of these institutions in which landholding appears as a ruling principle.

First: The organization of the public power given by it, or the Feudal System. The essential point of this was that kings, princes and lords ceded to other lords and knights land for their use, in return for which the recipient had to promise military vassalage—that is, he had to support the feudal lord in his wards or feuds, both in person and with retainers.

Second: The organization of public law, or the constitution of the empire. In the German parliaments the princes and the large landholdings of the counts, the empire, and of the clergy were represented. The cities had the right to a seat or a vote only if they had succeeded in acquiring the privileges of an imperial free city.

Third: The exemption from taxation of the large landholdings. It is a characteristic and constantly recurring phenomenon that every ruling privileged class tries constantly to throw the burden of the maintenance of the State, in open or disguised manner, in direct or indirect form, on the propertyless classes. When Richelieu, in 1641, demanded six million francs from the clergy as an extraordinary revenue, the latter gave, through the archbishop of Sens, the characteristic answer: "L'usage ancien de l'église pendant sa vigeur était que le peuple contribuait ses biens, la noblesse son sang, le clergé ses prières aux necessités de l'État." (The ancient custom of the church in her prosperity was that the people contributed to the needs of the State their property, the nobility their blood, the clergy their prayers.)

Fourth: The social stigma that rested upon all work other than occupation of the soil. To conduct manufacturing enterprises, to acquire money by commerce and manual trades, was considered disgraceful and dishonorable for the two privileged ruling classes, the nobility and the clergy, for whom it was regarded as honorable to obtain their revenue from landownership only.

These four great and determining motives which established the basic character of the period are entirely sufficient, for our purpose, to show how it was that landed property put its stamp upon that epoch and formed its ruling principle.

This was so far the case that even the movement of the Peasant War, which apparently was completely revolutionary—the one which broke out in Germany in 1524 and involved all Swabia, Franconia, Alsace, Westphalia, and other parts of Germany—depended absolutely upon this same principle, and was therefore in fact a reactionary movement in spite of its revolutionary attitude. The peasants at that time burned down the castles of the nobles, killed the nobles themselves, and made them run the gauntlet according to the custom of the times; but, nevertheless, in spite of this externally revolutionary appearance, the movement was essentially thoroughly reactionary. For the new birth of State relations—the German freedom which the peasants desired to establish—was to consist, according to their ideas, in the abolition of the special and intermediary position which the princes occupied between the emperor and the empire, and, in its stead, the representation in the German parliament of nothing but free and independent landed property, including that of the peasants and knights (these two classes up to this time not having been represented), as well as the individual independent estates of the nobles of every degree—knights, counts, and princes, without regard to former differences; and, on the other hand, of the landed property of the nobles as well as of the peasants.

It is clear at once, then, that this plan, in the last instance, results in nothing more than still more logical, clear, and equitable carrying-out of the principle which had formed the basis of the historical period which was even then approaching its end; that is, landownership was to be the ruling element and the only condition which entitled anybody to participation in the government of the State: that anybody should demand such participation just because he was a man, because he was a reasonable being, even without owning any land—this did not occur to the peasants in the remotest degree! For this the conditions of the time were not sufficiently developed, the method of thought of the time was not revolutionary enough.

So then this peasant uprising, which came forward externally with such revolutionary determination, was in its essence completely reactionary; that is to say, instead of standing upon a new revolutionary principle, it stood unconsciously on the old, existing principle of the period which was then just closing; and just because it was reactionary, while it thought itself revolutionary, did the peasant uprising fail.

Accordingly, in comparison with the uprising of the peasants as well as that of the nobles under Franz von Sickingen—both of which had the principle in common of basing participation in the government, more definitely than had before been the case, upon landholding—the rising monarchical idea was relatively a justifiable and revolutionary factor, since it was based upon the idea of a state sovereignty independent of landholding, representing the national idea independent of private property relations; and it was just this which gave it the power for a victorious development and for the suppression of the uprising of the peasants and the nobles.

I have gone into this point somewhat explicitly, in the first place to show the reasonableness and the progress of liberty in the development of history, even by an example in which this is not at all evident on superficial observation; in the second place, because historians are still far from recognizing this reactionary character of the peasant uprising and the reason for its failure, which lay chiefly in this aspect; but, rather deceived by external appearances, they have considered the Peasant War a truly revolutionary movement.

Finally, in the third place, because at all ages this phenomenon is frequently repeated—that men who do not think clearly (among whom are often found those apparently most highly educated, even professors) have fallen into the tremendous mistake of taking for a new revolutionary principle what is only a more logical and clear expression of the thought of a period and of institutions which are just passing away.

Gentlemen, let me warn you against such men, who are revolutionists only in their own imaginations, and such tendencies, because we shall have them in the future as we have had them in the past. We can also derive consolation from the fact that the numerous movements which, after momentary success, have immediately, or in a short time, come to naught again, which we find in history and which may cloud the superficial vision of many a patriot with gloomy forebodings, have never been revolutionary movements except in imagination. A true revolutionary movement, one which rests upon a really new idea, as the more thoughtful man can prove from history to his consolation, has never yet failed, at least not permanently.

I return to my main subject. If the Peasant Wars are revolutionary only in imagination, what was really and truly revolutionary at that time was the advance in manufacturing—the production of the middle class, the constantly developing division of labor, and the resulting wealth in capital, which accumulated exclusively in the hands of the middle class because it was just this class that devoted itself to production and reaped its profits.

It is usual to date the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of modern history from the Reformation—accordingly, from the year 1517. This is correct in the sense that, in the two centuries immediately following the Reformation, a slow, gradual, and unnoticed change took place, which completely transformed the aspect of society and accomplished within it a revolution that later, in 1789, was merely proclaimed, not actually produced, by the French Revolution.

Do you ask in what this transformation consisted?

In the legal position of the nobility there had been no change. Legally the nobility and the clergy had remained the two ruling classes, and the middle class the class universally kept down and oppressed. But although there had legally been no change, yet actually the reversal of conditions had been all the more tremendous.

By the production and accumulation of capital and of personal property, in contrast to real estate, in the hands of the middle class, the nobility had dwindled into complete insignificance—even into actual dependence upon the enriched middle class. If the nobles wished to maintain their place beside the middle class, they must renounce all class traditions and begin to adopt the same methods of industrial acquisition to which the middle class owed their wealth and in consequence their de facto power. The comedies of Molière, who lived at the time of Louis XIV., show us, as an extremely interesting phenomenon, the nobles of the times despising the rich middle class and at the same time playing the parasite at its tables. Louis XIV. himself, this proudest of monarchs, takes off his hat in his palace at Versailles and humbles himself before the Jew, Samuel Bernard, the Rothschild of the times, in order to influence him in favor of a loan.

When Law, the famous Scotch financier, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, formed in France his trading companies—a stock corporation which was formed for the exploitation of the Mississippi region, the East Indies, etc., the Regent of France himself was on its directorate—a member of a merchant company! The Regent found himself in fact compelled in August, 1717, to issue edicts in virtue of which the nobles might, without loss of dignity, enter into the naval and military service of these trading companies! To that point, then, the warlike and proud feudal aristocracy of France had fallen—to be the armed employees of the industrial and commercial enterprises of the middle class, whose relations extended through all continents.

Corresponding to this radical change, there had already developed a materialism and an eager, grasping struggle for money and property which could overcome all moral ideas and (what I regret to say was generally still more significant for the privileged classes) even all privileges of rank. Under this same Regent of France, Count Horn, one of the highest of the aristocracy and connected with the first families of France, even with the Regent himself, was broken on the wheel as a common robber and murderer; and the Duchess of Orleans, a German princess, writes in a letter of November 29, 1719, that six ladies of the highest rank waylaid in the court of a building the above-mentioned Law, who was at that time the most courted and the busiest man in France and therefore very hard to interview, in order to induce him to dispose of some of the shares founded by him, for which at that time all France was competing and which brought on the Exchange six and eight times the nominal price at which Law had issued them.

If you ask me again what the causes were which made possible this development of manufacturing and the consequent wealth of the middle class, I should have to exceed, if I tried to give them thorough treatment, the time at my disposal. I can only enumerate for you the most essential ones: The discovery of America and its tremendous influence on production; the route to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope, taking the place of the former land route by way of Suez for all trade with the East Indies; the discovery of the magnetic needle and the invention of the mariner's compass, and in consequence greater safety and speed and lower insurance rates for all ocean traffic; the waterways established in the interior of the countries, the canals, also the good roads which made possible for the first time a more remote market through the lessening of the transportation costs of various commodities which formerly could not carry the raise in price thus caused; greater security of property; well-established courts of law; the invention of powder, and, in consequence of this invention, the breaking down by the monarchy of the feudal military power of the nobility; the dismissal of the mercenaries and mounted retainers of the nobles on account of the destruction of their castles and of their independent military power. For these retainers there was now nothing left but to find work in the medieval workshops. All these events gave impetus to the triumphal chariot of the middle class. All these events, and many more which might be enumerated, combined to produce this one effect. By the opening of wider markets and the accompanying reduction of the costs of production and transportation, there comes production for the world-market, and consequently the necessity for cheap production which, in its turn, can be met only by a constantly extending division of labor, i.e., by the more perfectly developed division of the work into its simplest mechanical processes; this in turn brings about a constantly increasing output.

We are on the ground here of action and reaction. Each of these circumstances is a cause for the other, and the latter then reacts upon the former, and extends it and increases its scope.

It must be clear that the production of an article in enormous quantities—its production for the world-market—is, in general, possible only if the costs of production of the article are low and if also its transportation is cheap enough not to raise its price essentially. Production in enormous quantities demands a wholesale market, and a wholesale market for any commodity can be obtained only by its low price, which makes it available for a very large number of consumers; thus the low cost of production and transportation of any commodity brings about its production on a huge scale in enormous quantities. It must also be clear, on the other hand, that the production of a commodity in enormous quantities causes and increases its cheapness. A manufacturer, for instance, who turns out 200,000 pieces of cotton goods in a year, is able, because he procures his raw material more cheaply on a large scale and because the profit on his capital and the interest on his plant is distributed over so large a number of pieces, to market each piece, within certain limits, at a far lower price than the manufacturer who produces yearly only 5,000 such pieces. Greater cheapness of production leads accordingly to production on a large scale. This results, in turn, in greater cheapness; this in its own turn brings about production in still greater quantities, and this still greater cheapness, and so on.

The relations are also quite similar in the matter of division of labor, which is another necessary condition for production in large quantities and for cheapness, for without it neither cheapness of production nor large quantities would be possible.

The division of labor which splits up the production of an article into a great number of very simple and often purely mechanical operations requiring no thought on the part of the operative, and sets at each one of these single operations a single workman, would be entirely impossible without extensive production of this article. It is therefore established and extended only through such production. On the other hand, this division of the work into simple operations leads (1), to a constantly increasing cheapness; (2), to production in enormous and constantly increasing quantities—a production calculated not only for this or that neighboring market, but for the entire world-market; and (3), through this and through new divisions which can for this reason be applied to single operations, to still farther advances in the division of labor itself.

By this series of actions and reactions there had accordingly appeared a complete transformation in the manufacturing institutions of the community and hence in all its relations of life. The best way to state this briefly is to reduce it to the following contrast:

In the early Middle Ages, since only a small number of very valuable products could stand the expense of transportation, production was calculated for the need of the immediate locality and a very limited neighboring market whose demand was, just for this reason, a well-known, steady, and unchanging one. The need or the demand preceded production and formed a well-known criterion for it; in other words, the production of the community had been chiefly artisan production. Now, in distinction from factory or wholesale production, the character of small or artisan production is this: Either the need is awaited before production—as, for example, a tailor waits for my order before he makes me a coat, a locksmith before he makes me a lock; or even if some goods are manufactured to be sold ready-made, on the whole this ready-made business is limited to a minimum of what is definitely known from experience to be the needs of the immediate locality and its nearest neighborhood—as, for instance, a tinsmith makes up a certain number of lamps, knowing that the local demand will soon dispose of them.

The characteristics of a community producing chiefly in this manner are poverty, or at least only a moderate prosperity, but, to offset this, a certain definiteness and steadiness of all relations.

Now, on the other hand, through the incessant and complete action and reaction which I have been describing to you, there had appeared in the community a totally different kind of work, and therefore of all relations of life. There had already appeared the germ of the same characteristic which today marks, in a differently developed but enormously extended manner, the production of the community. In the tremendous development which it has today this characteristic, in contrast to that previously described, can be indicated as follows: Whereas, formerly, need preceded production, made it a consequence of itself, determined it, and formed a criterion and well-known standard for it—production and supply now go in advance of the demand and try to develop it. Production is no longer for the locality, no longer for the well-known need of neighboring markets, but for the world-market. Production goes on for remote regions and for a general market, for all continents, for an actually unknown and not definitely calculated need; and in order that the product may arouse need a weapon is supplied it—cheapness. Cheapness is the weapon of a product, with which, on the one hand, it obtains customers, and, on the other, drives from the field other goods of the same nature, which are likewise urged upon the consumers; so that under the system of free competition any producer may hope, no matter what enormous quantities he may produce, to find a market for them all if he only succeeds, by making his goods exceedingly cheap, in keeping out of the market the goods of his competitors. The predominant character of such a society is vast and boundless wealth, but, on the other hand, a great instability of all relations, an almost continual, anxious insecurity in the position of each individual, together with a very unequal sharing of the returns of production among those taking part in it.