# Reflections on Violence/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV
THE PROLETARIAN STRIKE
I. The confusion in Parliamentary Socialism and the clearness of the general strike—Myths in history—The value of the general strike proved by experience.
II. Researches made to perfect Marxism—Means of throwing light upon it, starting from the point of view of the general strike: class war; preparation for the revolution and absence of Utopias; irrevocable character of the revolution.
III. Scientific prejudices against the general strike; doubts about science—The clear and the obscure parts in thought—Economic incompetence of Parliaments.
I
Every time that we attempt to obtain an exact conception of the ideas behind proletarian violence we are forced to go back to the notion of the general strike; and this same conception may render many other services, and throw an unexpected light on all the obscure parts of Socialism. In the last pages of the first chapter I compared the general strike to the Napoleonic battle which definitely crushes an adversary; this comparison will help us to understand the part played by the general strike in the world of ideas.
Military writers of to-day, when discussing the new methods of war necessitated by the employment of troops infinitely more numerous than those of Napoleon, equipped with arms much more deadly than those of his time, do ​not for all that imagine that wars will be decided in any other way than that of the Napoleonic battle. The new tactics proposed must fit into the drama Napoleon had conceived; the detailed development of the combat will doubtless be quite different from what it used to be, but the end must always be the catastrophic defeat of the enemy. The methods of military instruction are intended to prepare the soldier for this great and terrible action, in which everybody must be ready to take part at the first signal. From the highest to the lowest, the members of a really solid army have always in mind this catastrophic issue of international conflicts.
The revolutionary Syndicates argue about Socialist action exactly in the same manner as military writers argue about war; they restrict the whole of Socialism to the general strike; they look upon every combination as one that should culminate in this catastrophe; they see in each strike a reduced facsimile, an essay, a preparation for the great final upheaval.
The new school, which calls itself Marxist, Syndicalist, and revolutionary, declared in favour of the idea of the general strike as soon as it became clearly conscious of the true sense of its own doctrine, of the consequences of its activity, and of its own originality. It was thus led to leave the old official, Utopian, and political tabernacles, which hold the general strike in horror, and to launch itself into the true current of the proletarian revolutionary movement; for a long time past the proletariat had made adherence to the principle of the general strike the test by means of which the Socialism of the workers was distinguished from that of the amateur revolutionaries.
Parliamentary Socialists can only obtain great influence if they can manage, by the use of a very confused language, to impose themselves on very diverse groups; for example, they must have working-men constituents simple enough to allow themselves to be duped by high-sounding phrases ​about future collectivism; they are compelled to represent themselves as profound philosophers to stupid middle-class people who wish to appear to be well informed about social questions; it is very necessary also for them to be able to exploit rich people who think that they are earning the gratitude of humanity by taking shares in the enterprises of Socialist politicians. This influence is founded on balderdash, and our bigwigs endeavour—sometimes only too successfully—to spread confusion among the ideas of their readers; they detest the general strike because all propaganda carried on from that point of view is too socialistic to please philanthropists.
In the mouths of these self-styled representatives of the proletariat all socialistic formulas lose their real sense. The class war still remains the great principle, but it must be subordinated to national solidarity. Internationalism is an article of faith about which the most moderate declare themselves ready to take the most solemn oaths; but patriotism also imposes sacred duties. The emancipation of the workers must be the work of the workers themselves—their newspapers repeat this every day,—but real emancipation consists in voting for a professional politician, in securing for him the means of obtaining a comfortable situation in the world, in subjecting oneself to a leader. In the end the State must disappear—and ​they are very careful not to dispute what Engels has written on this subject—but this disappearance will take place only in a future so far distant that you must prepare yourself for it by using the State meanwhile as a means of providing the politicians with titbits; and the best means of bringing about the disappearance of the State consists in strengthening meanwhile the Governmental machine. This method of reasoning resembles that of Gribouille, who threw himself into the water in order to escape getting wet in the rain.
Whole pages could be filled with the bare outlines of the contradictory, comical, and quack arguments which form the substance of the harangues of our great men; nothing embarrasses them, and they know how to combine, in pompous, impetuous, and nebulous speeches, the most absolute irreconcilability with the most supple opportunism. A learned exponent of Socialism has said that the art of reconciling opposites by means of nonsense is the most obvious result which he had got from the study of the works of Marx. I confess my extreme incompetence in these difficult matters; moreover, I make no claim whatever to be counted among the people upon whom politicians confer the title of learned; yet I cannot easily bring myself to admit that this is the sum and substance of the Marxian philosophy. The controversy between Jaurès and Clemenceau demonstrated quite clearly that our Parliamentary Socialists can succeed in deceiving the public only by their equivocation; ​and that, as the result of continually deceiving their readers, they have finally lost all sense of honest discussion. In the Aurore of September 4, 1905, Clemenceau accuses Jaurès of muddling the minds of his partisans "with metaphysical subtleties into which they are incapable of following him" there is nothing to object to in this accusation, save the use of the word metaphysical; Jaurès is no more a metaphysician than he is a lawyer or an astronomer. In the number of October 26 Clemenceau proves that his opponent possesses "the art of falsifying his texts," and he ends by saying, "It seemed to me instructive to expose certain polemical practices which we wrongly supposed to be monopoly of the Jesuits."
Against this noisy, garrulous, and lying Socialism, which is exploited by ambitious people of every description, which amuses a few buffoons, and which is admired by decadents—revolutionary Syndicalism takes its stand, and endeavours, on the contrary, to leave nothing in a state of indecision; its ideas are honestly expressed, without trickery and without mental reservations; no attempt is made to dilute doctrines by a stream of confused commentaries. Syndicalism endeavours to employ methods of expression which throw a full light on things, which put them exactly in the place assigned to them by their nature, and which bring out the whole value of the forces in play. Oppositions, instead of being glozed over, must be thrown into sharp relief if we desire to obtain a clear idea of the Syndicalist movement; the groups which are struggling one against the other must be shown as separate and as compact as possible; in short, the movements of the revolted masses must be represented in such a way that the soul of the revolutionaries may receive a deep and lasting impression.
These results could not be produced in any very certain manner by the use of ordinary language; use must be made of a body of images which, by intuition alone, and ​before any considered analyses are made, is capable of evoking as an undivided whole the mass of sentiments which corresponds to the different manifestations of the war undertaken by Socialism against modern society. The Syndicalists solve this problem perfectly, by concentrating the whole of Socialism in the drama of the general strike; there is thus no longer any place for the reconciliation of contraries in the equivocations of the professors; everything is clearly mapped out, so that only one interpretation of Socialism is possible. This method has all the advantages which "integral" knowledge has over analysis, according to the doctrine of Bergson; and perhaps it would not be possible to cite another example which would so perfectly demonstrate the value of the famous professor's doctrines.
The possibility of the actual realisation of the general strike has been much discussed; it has been stated that the Socialist war could not be decided in one single battle. To the people who think themselves cautious, practical, and scientific the difficulty of setting great masses of the proletariat in motion at the same moment seems prodigious; they have analysed the difficulties of detail which such an enormous struggle would present. It is the opinion of the Socialist-sociologists, as also of the politicians, that the general strike is a popular dream, characteristic of the beginnings of a working-class movement; we have had quoted against us the authority of Sidney Webb, who has decreed that the general strike is an illusion of youth, of which the English workers—whom the monopolists of sociology have so often presented to us as the ​depositaries of the true conception of the working-class movement—soon rid themselves.
That the general strike is not popular in contemporary England, is a poor argument to bring against the historical significance of the idea, for the English are distinguished by an extraordinary lack of understanding of the class war; their ideas have remained very much dominated by medieval influences: the guild, privileged, or at least protected by laws, still seems to them the ideal of working-class organisation; it is for England that the term working-class aristocracy, as a name for the trades unionists, was invented, and, as a matter of fact, trades unionism does pursue the acquisition of legal privileges. We might therefore say that the aversion felt by England for the general strike should be looked upon as strong presumptive evidence in favour of the latter by all those who look upon the class war as the essence of Socialism.
Moreover, Sidney Webb enjoys a reputation for competence which is very much exaggerated; all that can be put to his credit is that he has waded through uninteresting blue-books, and has had the patience to compose an extremely indigestible compilation on the history of trades unionism; he has a mind of the narrowest description, which could only impress people unaccustomed to reflection. Those who introduced his fame into France knew nothing at all about Socialism; and if he is really in the first rank of contemporary authors of economic history, as his translator affirms, it is because the ​intellectual level of these historians is rather low; moreover, many examples show us that it is possible to be a most illustrious professional historian and yet possess a mind something less than mediocre.
Neither do I attach any importance to the objections made to the general strike based on considerations of a practical order. The attempt to construct hypotheses about the nature of the struggles of the future and the means of suppressing capitalism, on the model furnished by history, is a return to the old methods of the Utopists. There is no process by which the future can be predicted scientifically, nor even one which enables us to discuss whether one hypothesis about it is better than another; it has been proved by too many memorable examples that the greatest men have committed prodigious errors in thus desiring to make predictions about even the least distant future.
And yet without leaving the present, without reasoning about this future, which seems for ever condemned to escape our reason, we should be unable to act at all. Experience shows that the framing of a future, in some indeterminate time, may, when it is done in a certain way, be very effective, and have very few inconveniences; this happens when the anticipations of the future take the form of those myths, which enclose with them all the strongest inclinations of a people, of a party or of a class, inclinations which recur to the mind with the insistence of instincts in all the circumstances of life; and which give an aspect of complete reality to the hopes of immediate action by which, more easily than by any other method, men can reform their desires, passions, and mental activity. ​We know, moreover, that these social myths in no way prevent a man profiting by the observations which he makes in the course of his life, and form no obstacle to the pursuit of his normal occupations.
The truth of this may be shown by numerous examples.
The first Christians expected the return of Christ and the total ruin of the pagan world, with the inauguration of the kingdom of the saints, at the end of the first generation. The catastrophe did not come to pass, but Christian thought profited so greatly from the apocalyptic myth that certain contemporary scholars maintain that the whole preaching of Christ referred solely to this one point.The hopes which Luther and Calvin had formed of the religious exaltation of Europe were by no means realised; these fathers of the Reformation very soon seemed men of a past era; for present-day Protestants they belong rather to the Middle Ages than to modern times, and the problems which troubled them most occupy very little place in contemporary Protestantism. Must we for that reason deny the immense result which came from their dreams of Christian renovation? It must be admitted that the real developments of the Revolution did not in any way resemble the enchanting pictures which created the enthusiasm of its first adepts; but without those pictures would the Revolution have been victorious? Many Utopias were mixed up with the Revolutionary myth, because it had been formed by a society passionately fond of imaginative literature, full of confidence in the "science," and very little acquainted with the ​economic history of the past. These Utopias came to nothing; but it may be asked whether the Revolution was not a much more profound transformation than those dreamed of by the people who in the eighteenth century had invented social Utopias. In our own times Mazzini pursued what the wiseacres of his time called a mad chimera; but it can no longer be denied that, without Mazzini, Italy would never have become a great power, and that he did more for Italian unity than Cavour and all the politicians of his school.
A knowledge of what the myths contain in the way of details which will actually form part of the history of the future is then of small importance; they are not astrological almanacs; it is even possible that nothing which they contain will ever come to pass,—as was the case with the catastrophe expected by the first Christians. In our own daily life, are we not familiar with the fact that what actually happens is very different from our preconceived notion of it? And that does not prevent us from continuing to make resolutions. Psychologists say that there is heterogeneity between the ends in view and the ends actually realised: the slightest experience of life reveals this law to us, which Spencer transferred into nature, to extract therefrom his theory of the multiplication of effects.
The myth must be judged as a means of acting on the present; any attempt to discuss how far it can be taken ​literally as future history is devoid of sense. It is the myth in its entirety which is alone important: its parts are only of interest in so far as they bring out the main idea. No useful purpose is served, therefore, in arguing about the incidents which, may occur in the course of a social war, and about the decisive conflicts which may give victory to the proletariat; even supposing the revolutionaries to have been wholly and entirely deluded in setting up this imaginary picture of the general strike, this picture may yet have been, in the course of the preparation for the Revolution, a great element of strength, if it has embraced all the aspirations of Socialism, and if it has given to the whole body of Revolutionary thought a precision and a rigidity which no other method of thought could have given.
To estimate, then, the significance of the idea of the general strike, all the methods of discussion which are current among politicians, sociologists, or people with pretensions to political science, must be abandoned. Everything which its opponents endeavour to establish may be conceded to them, without reducing in any way the value of the theory which they think they have refuted. The question whether the general strike is a partial reality, or only a product of popular imagination, is of little importance. All that it is necessary to know is, whether the general strike contains everything that the Socialist doctrine expects of the revolutionary proletariat.
To solve this question we are no longer compelled to argue learnedly about the future; we are not obliged to indulge in lofty reflections about philosophy, history, or economics; we are not on the plane of theories, and we can remain on the level of observable facts. We have to question men who take a very active part in the real revolutionary movement amidst the proletariat, men who do not aspire to climb into the middle class and ​whose mind is not dominated by corporative prejudices. These men may be deceived about an infinite number of political, economical, or moral questions; but their testimony is decisive, sovereign, and irrefutable when it is a question of knowing what are the ideas which most powerfully move them and their comrades, which most appeal to them as being identical with their socialistic conceptions, and thanks to which their reason, their hopes, and their way of looking at particular facts seem to make but one indivisible unity.
Thanks to these men, we know that the general strike is indeed what I have said: the myth in which Socialism is wholly comprised, i.e. a body of images capable of evoking instinctively all the sentiments which correspond to the different manifestations of the war undertaken by Socialism against modern society. Strikes have engendered in the proletariat the noblest, deepest, and most moving sentiments that they possess; the general strike groups them all in a co-ordinated picture, and, by bringing them together, gives to each one of them its maximum of intensity; appealing to their painful memories of particular conflicts, it colours with an intense life all the details of the composition presented to consciousness. We thus obtain that intuition of Socialism which language cannot give us with perfect clearness—and we obtain it as a whole, perceived instantaneously.
We may urge yet another piece of evidence to prove the power of the idea of the general strike. If that idea were a pure chimera, as is so frequently said. Parliamentary Socialists would not attack it with such heat; I do not remember that they ever attacked the senseless hopes which the Utopists haye always held up before the dazzled eyes of the people. In the course of a polemic about realisable ​social reforms, Clemenceau brought out the Machiavelianism in the attitude of Jaurès, when he is confronted with popular illusions: he shelters his conscience beneath "some cleverly balanced sentence," but so cleverly balanced that it "will be received without thinking by those who have the greatest need to probe into its substance, while they will drink in with delight the delusive rhetoric of terrestrial joys to come" (Aurore, December 28, 1905). But when it is a question of the general strike, it is quite another thing; our politicians are no longer content with complicated reservations; they speak violently, and endeavour to induce their listeners to abandon this conception.
It is easy to understand the reason for this attitude: politicians have nothing to fear from the Utopias which present a deceptive mirage of the future to the people, and turn "men towards immediate realisations of terrestrial felicity, which any one who looks at these matters scientifically knows can only be very partially realised, and even then only after long efforts on the part of several generations." (That is what Socialist politicians do, according to Clemenceau.) The more readily the electors believe in the magical forces of the State, the more will they be disposed to vote for the candidate who promises marvels; in the electoral struggle each candidate tries to outbid the others: in order that the Socialist candidates may put the Radicals to rout, the electors must be credulous enough to believe every promise of future bliss; our Socialist politicians take very good care, ​therefore, not to combat these comfortable Utopias in any very effective way.
They struggle against the conception of the general strike, because they recognise, in the course of their propagandist rounds, that this conception is so admirably adapted to the working-class mind that there is a possibility of its dominating the latter in the most absolute manner, thus leaving no place for the desires which the Parliamentarians are able to satisfy. They perceive that this idea is so effective as a motive force that once it has entered the minds of the people they can no longer be controlled by leaders, and that thus the power of the deputies would be reduced to nothing. In short, they feel in a vague way that the whole Socialist movement might easily be absorbed by the general strike, which would render useless all those compromises between political groups in view of which the Parliamentary regime has been built up.
The opposition it meets with from official Socialists, therefore, furnishes a confirmation of our first inquiry into the scope of the general strike.
II
We must now proceed further, and inquire whether the picture furnished by the general strike is really complete; that is to say, whether it comprises all those features of the struggle which are recognised by modern Socialism. But, first of all, we must state the problem more precisely; this will not be difficult if we start from the explanations given above on the nature of the conception. We have seen that the general strike must be considered as an undivided whole; consequently, no details about ways and means will be of the slightest help to the understanding of Socialism; it must even be added that there is always a danger of losing something of this understanding, if an ​attempt is made to split up this whole into parts. We will now endeavour to show that there is a fundamental identity between the chief tenets of Marxism and the co-ordinated aspects furnished by the picture of the general strike.
This affirmation is certain to appear paradoxical to many who have read the publications of the most accredited Marxians; and, in fact, for a very long time a well-marked hostility to the general strike existed in Marxian circles. This tradition has done a good deal of harm to the progress of Marx's doctrine; and it is in fact a very good illustration of the way in which, as a rule, disciples tend to restrict the application of their master's ideas. The new school has had considerable difficulty in liberating itself from these influences; it was formed by people who had received the Marxian imprint in a very marked degree; and it was a long time before the school recognised that the objections brought against the general strike arose from the incapacity of the official representatives of Marxism rather than from the principles of the doctrine itself.
The new school began its emancipation on the day when it perceived clearly that the formulas of Socialism were often very far from the spirit of Marx, and when it recommended a return to that spirit. It was not without a certain amount of stupefaction that it discerned that it had credited the master with many so-called inventions which were in reality taken from his predecessors, or which were commonplaces, even, at the time when the Communist Manifesto was drawn up. According to an author—who, in the opinion of the Government and the ​Musée Social is considered to be well informed,—"the accumulation (of capital in the hands of a few individuals) is one of the great discoveries of Marx, one of the discoveries of whch he was most proud. With all due deference to the historical science of this notable university light, this theory was one which was in everybody's mouth long before Marx had ever written a word, and it had become a dogma in the Socialist world at the end of the reign of Louis-Philippe. There are many Marxian theories of the same kind.
A decided step towards reform was made when those Marxians who aspired to think for themselves began to study the syndicalist movement; they discovered that "the genuine trade unionists have more to teach us than they have to learn from us." This was the beginning of wisdom; it was a step towards the realistic method which had led Marx to his real discoveries; in this way a return might be made to those methods which alone merit the name philosophical, "for true and fruitful ideas are so many close contacts with currents of reality," and they "owe most of their clearness to the light which the facts, and the applications to which they led, have by reflection shed on them—the clearness of a concept being scarcely anything more at bottom than the certainty, at last obtained, of manipulating the concept profitably." And yet another profound thought of Bergson may usefully be quoted: "For we do not obtain an intuition from reality—that is, an intellectual sympathy with the most intimate part of it—unless we have won its confidence by a long fellowship with its superficial manifestations. And it is not merely a question of assimilating the most conspicuous facts; so immense a mass of facts must be accumulated and fused together, that in this fusion all ​the preconceived and premature ideas which observers may unwittingly have put into their observations will be certain to neutralize each other. In this way only can the bare materiality of the known facts be exposed to view." Finally, what Bergson calls an integral experience is obtained.
Thanks to the new principle, people very soon came to recognise that the propositions which in their opinion contained a complete statement of Socialism were deplorably inadequate, so that they were often more dangerous than useful. It is the superstitious respect paid by social democracy to the mere text of its doctrines that nullified every attempt in Germany to perfect Marxism.
When the new school had acquired a full understanding of the general strike, and had thus obtained a profound intuition of the working-class movement, it saw that all the Socialist theories, interpreted in the light of this powerful construction, took on a meaning which till then they had lacked; it perceived that the clumsy and rickety apparatus which had been manufactured in Germany to explain Marx's doctrines, must be rejected if the contemporary transformation of the proletarian idea was to be followed exactly; it discovered that the conception of the general strike enabled them to explore profitably the whole vast domain of Marxism, which until then had remained practically unknown to the big-wigs who professed to be guiding Socialism. Thus the fundamental principles of Marxism are perfectly intelligible only with the aid of the picture of the general strike, and, on the other hand, the full significance of this picture, it may be supposed, is apparent only to those who are deeply versed in the Marxian doctrine.
A. First of all, I shall speak of the class war, which is the point of departure for all Socialistic thought, and which stands in such great need of elucidation, ​since sophists have endeavoured to give a false idea of it.
(1) Marx speaks of society as if it were divided into two fundamentally antagonistic groups; observation, it has often been urged, does not justify this division, and it is true that a certain effort of will is necessary before we can find it verified in the phenomena of everyday life.
The organisation of a capitalistic workshop furnishes a first approximation, and piece-work plays an essential part in the formation of the class idea; in fact, it throws into relief the very clear opposition of interests about the price of commodities; the workers feel themselves under the thumb of the employers in the same way that peasants feel themselves in the power of the merchants and the money-lenders of the towns; history shows that no economic opposition has been more clearly felt than the latter; since civilisation has existed, country and town have formed two hostile camps. Piece-work also shows that in the wage-earning world there is a group of men somewhat analogous to the retail shopkeepers, possessing the confidence of the employer, and not belonging to the proletariat class.
The strike throws a new light on all this; it separates the interests and the different ways of thinking of the two groups of wage-earners—the foremen clerks, engineers, etc., as contrasted with the workmen who alone go on strike—much better than the daily circumstances of life do; it then becomes clear that the administrative group has a natural tendency to become a little aristocracy; ​for these people. State Socialism would be advantageous, because they would go up one in the social hierarchy.
But all oppositions become extraordinarily clear when conflicts are supposed to be enlarged to the size of the general strike; then all parts of the economico-judicial structure, in so far as the latter is looked upon from the point of view of the class war, reach the summit of their perfection; society is plainly divided into two camps, and only into two, on a field of battle. No philosophical explanation of the facts observed in practical affairs could throw such vivid light on the situation as the extremely simple picture called up by the conception of the general strike.
(2) It would be impossible to conceive the disappearance of capitalistic dominance if we did not suppose an ardent sentiment of revolt, always present in the soul of the worker; but experience shows that very often the revolts of a day are far from possessing a really specifically socialistic character; more than once the most violent outbursts have depended on passions which could be satisfied inside the middle-class world; many revolutionaries have been seen to abandon their old irreconcilability when they found themselves on the road to fortune. It is not only satisfactions of a material kind which produce these frequent and scandalous conversions; vanity, much more than money, is the great motive force in transformation of the revolutionary into a bourgeois. All that would be negligible if it were only a question of a few exceptional people, but it has often been maintained that the psychology of the working classes would so easily adapt itself to the capitalistic order of things that social peace would be ​rapidly obtained if employers on their part would make a few sacrifices of money and amour propre.
G. Le Bon says that the belief in the revolutionary instincts of crowds is a very great mistake, that their tendencies are conservative, that the whole power of Socialism lies in the rather muddled state of mind of the middle class; he is convinced that the masses will always flock to a Cæsar. There is a good deal of truth in these judgments, which are founded on a very wide knowledge of history, but G. Le Bon's theories must be corrected in one respect: they are only valid for societies which lack the conception of the class war.
Observation shows that this last conception is maintained with an indestructible vitality in every circle which has been touched by the idea of the general strike: the day when the slightest incidents of daily life become symptoms of the state of war between the classes, when every conflict is an incident in the social war, when every strike begets the perspective of a total catastrophe, on that day there is no longer any possibility of social peace, of resignation to routine, or of enthusiasm for philanthropic or successful employers. The idea of the general strike has such power behind it that it drags into the revolutionary track everything it touches. In virtue of this idea. Socialism remains ever young; all attempts made to bring about social peace seem childish; desertions of comrades into the ranks of the middle class, far from discouraging the masses, only excite them still more to rebellion; in a word, the line of cleavage is never in danger of disappearing.
(3) The successes obtained by politicians in their attempts to make what they call the proletarian influence ​felt in middle-class institutions, constitute a very great obstacle to the maintenance of the notion of class war. The world has always been carried on by compromises between opposing parties, and order has always been provisional. No change, however considerable, can be looked upon as impossible in a time like ours, which has seen so many novelties introduced in an unexpected manner. Modern progress has been brought about by successive compromises; why not pursue the aims of Socialism by methods which have succeeded so well? Many means of satisfying the more pressing desires of the unfortunate classes can be thought of. For a long time these proposals for improvement were inspired by a conservative, feudal, or Catholic spirit. We wish, said the inventors, to rescue the masses from the influence of the Radicals. The latter, seeing their political influence assailed, not so much by their old enemies as by Socialist politicians, invent nowadays all kinds of projects of a progressive, democratic, free-thinking colour. We are beginning at last to be threatened with socialistic compromises!
Enough attention has not always been paid to the fact that many kinds of political, administrative, and financial systems engender and support the domination of a middle class. We must not always attach too much importance to violent attacks on the middle class; they may have behind them the desire to reform and perfect capitalism. There are, it seems, quite a number of people about nowadays who, though not in the least desiring the ​disappearance of the capitalistic régime, would willingly abolish inheritance like the followers of Saint Simon.
The idea of the general strike destroys all the theoretical consequences of every possible social policy; its partisans look upon even the most popular reforms as having a middle-class character; so far as they are concerned, nothing can weaken the fundamental opposition of the class war. The more the policy of social reforms becomes preponderant, the more will Socialists feel the need of placing against the picture of the progress which it is the aim of this policy to bring about, this other picture of complete catastrophe furnished so perfectly by the general strike.
B. Let us now examine, with the aid of the conception of the general strike, certain very essential aspects of the Marxian Revolution.
(1) Marx says that on the day of the Revolution the proletariat will be disciplined, united, and organised by the very mechanism of production. This exceedingly concentrated formula would not be very intelligible if we did not read it in connection with its context; according to Marx, the working class is bowed beneath a system in which "abject poverty, oppression, slavery, degradation, and exploitation increase," and against which it is organising an ever-increasing resistance until the day when the whole social structure breaks up. The accuracy of this description has been many times disputed; it seems indeed to be more suited to the Manifesto period (1847) than to the time when Capital was published (1867); but this objection must not stop us, and it may be thrust on ​one side by means of the theory of myths. The different terms which Marx uses to describe the preparation for the decisive combat are not to be taken literally as statements of fact about a determined future; it is the description in its entirety which should engage our attention, and taken in this way it is perfectly clear: Marx wishes us to understand that the whole preparation of the proletariat depends solely on the organisation of a stubborn, increasing, and passionate resistance to the present order of things.
This argument is of supreme importance if we are to have a sound conception of Marxism; but it is often contested, if not in theory, at least in practice; the proletariat, it has been held, should prepare for the part it is to play in the future by other ways than those of revolutionary Syndicalism. Thus the exponents of co-operation hold that a prominent place in the work of enfranchisement must be given to their own particular remedy; the democrats say that it is essential to abolish all the prejudices arising from the old Catholic influence, etc. Many revolutionaries believe that, however useful Syndicalism may be, it is not, in itself, sufficient to organise a society which needs a new philosophy, a new code of laws, etc.; as the division of labour is a fundamental law of the world, Socialists should not be ashamed to apply to specialists in philosophy and law, of whom there is never any lack. Jaurès never stops repeating this kind of stuff. This expansion of Socialism is contrary to the Marxian theory, as also to the conception of the general strike; but it is evident that the conception of the general strike makes a much more striking appeal to the mind than any formula.
(2) I have already called attention to the danger for the future of civilisation presented by revolutions which take place in a period of economic decadence; many Marxists do not seem to have formed a clear idea of Marx's ​thought on this subject. The latter believed that the great catastrophe would be preceded by an enormous economic crisis, but the crisis Marx had in mind must not be confused with an economic decadence; crises appeared to him as the result of a too risky venture on the part of production, which creates productive forces out of proportion to the means of regulation. which the capitalistic system automatically brings into play. Such a venture supposes that the future was looked upon as favourable to very large enterprises, and that the conception of economic progress prevailed absolutely at the time. In order that the lower middle classes, who are still able to find tolerable conditions of existence under the capitalist régime, may join hands with the proletariat, it is essential that they shall be able to picture the future of production as bright with hope, just as the conquest of America formerly appeared to the English peasants, who left Europe to throw themselves into a life of adventure.
The general strike leads to the same conclusions. The workers are accustomed to seeing their revolts against the restrictions imposed by capitalism succeed during periods of prosperity; so that it may be said that if you once identify revolution and general strike it then becomes impossible to conceive this of an essential transformation of the world taking place in a time of economic decadence. The workers are equally well aware that the peasants and the artisans will not join hands with them unless the future appears so rosy-coloured that industrialism will be able to ameliorate the lot not only of the producers, but that of everybody.
It is very important always to lay stress on the high ​degree of prosperity which industry must possess in order that the realisation of Socialism may be possible; for experience shows us that it is by seeking to stop the progress of capitalism, and to preserve the means of existence of classes who are on the down-grade, that the prophets of social peace chiefly endeavour to capture popular favour. The dependence of the revolution on the constant and rapid progress of industry must be demonstrated in a striking manner.
(3) Too great stress cannot be laid on the fact that Marxism condemns every hypothesis about the future manufactured by the Utopists. Professor Brentano of Munich relates that in 1869 Marx wrote to his friend Beesly (who had published an article on the future of the working class) to say that up till then he had looked upon him as the sole revolutionary Englishman, and that henceforth he looked upon him as a reactionary—for, he said, "the man who draws up a programme for the future is a reactionary." He considered that the proletariat had no need to take lessons from the learned inventors of solutions to social problems, but simply to take up production where capitalism left it. There was no need for programmes of the future; the programmes were already worked out in the workshops. The idea of a technological continuity dominates the whole of the Marxian position.
​Experience gained in strikes leads us to a conception identical with that of Marx. Workmen who put down their tools do not go to their employers with schemes for the better organisation of labour, and do not offer them assistance in the management of their business; in short, Utopias have no place in economic conflicts. Jaurès and his friends are well aware that this is a very strong argument against their own ideas of the way in which Socialism is to be realised: they would like even now to have fragments of the industrial programmes manufactured by learned sociologists and accepted by the workers introduced into strike negotiations; they would like to see the creation of what they call industrial parliamentarism which, exactly as in the case of political parliamentarism would imply, on the one hand, the masses who are led and, on the other, demagogues to show them the way. This would be the apprentice stage of their sham Socialism, and might begin at once.
With the general strike all these fine things disappear; the revolution appears as a revolt, pure and simple, and no place is reserved for sociologists, for fashionable people who are in favour of social reforms, and for the Intellectuals who have embraced the profession of thinking for the proletariat.
C. Socialism has always inspired terror because of the enormous element of the unknown which it contains; people feel that a transformation of this kind would permit of no turning back. Utopists have used all their literary art in the endeavour to lull anxiety by pictures of the future, so enchanting that fear might be banished; but the more they accumulated fine promises, the more did thoughtful people suspect traps, and in this they were not altogether mistaken, for the Utopists would have led the world to disasters, tyranny, and stupidity, if they had been hearkened to.
Marx was firmly convinced that the social revolution ​of which he spoke would constitute an irrevocable transformation, and that it would mark an absolute separation between two historical eras; he often returned to this idea, and Engels has endeavoured to show, by means of images which were sometimes a little grandiose, how economic enfranchisement would be the point of departure of an era having no relationship with the past. Rejecting all Utopias, these two founders of modern Socialism renounced all the resources by which their predecessors had rendered the prospect of a great revolution less formidable; but however strong the expressions which they employed might have been, the effects which they produced are still very inferior to those produced by the evocation of the general strike. This conception makes it impossible for us to ignore the fact that a kind of irresistible wave will pass over the old civilisation.
There is something really terrifying in all this; but I believe that it is very essential that this feature of Socialism should be insisted on if the latter is to have its full educational value. Socialists must be convinced that the work to which they are devoting themselves is a serious, formidable, and sublime work; it is only on this condition that they will be able to bear the innumerable sacrifices imposed on them by a propaganda, which can procure them neither honours, profits, nor even immediate intellectual satisfaction. Even if the only result of the idea of the general strike was to make the Socialist conception more heroic, it should on that account alone be looked upon as having an incalculable value.
The resemblances which I have just established between Marxism and the general strike might be carried still further and deeper; if they have been overlooked hitherto, it is because we are much more struck by the form of things than by their content; a large number of people find great difficulty in believing that there can be any parallelism between a philosophy based on ​Hegelianism and the constructions made by men entirely devoid of higher culture. Marx had acquired in Germany a taste for very condensed formulas, and these formulas were so admirably suited to the conditions in the midst of which he worked that he naturally made great use of them. When he wrote, there had been none of the great and numerous strikes which would have enabled him to speak with a detailed knowledge of the means by which the proletariat may prepare itself for the revolution. This absence of knowledge gained from experience very much hampered Marx's thought; he avoided the use of too precise formulas which would have had this inconvenience of giving a kind of sanction to existing institutions, which seemed valueless to him; he was therefore happy to be able to find in German academic writing a habit of abstract language which allowed him to avoid all discussion of detail.
No better proof perhaps can be given of Marx's genius than the remarkable agreement which is found to exist between his views and the doctrine which revolutionary Syndicalism is to-day building up slowly and laboriously, keeping always strictly to strike tactics.
III
For some time yet, the conception of the general strike will have considerable difficulty in becoming acclimatised in circles which are not specially dominated by strike tactics. I think it might be useful at this point to enquire ​into the motives which explain the repugnance felt by many intelligent and sincere people who are disturbed by the novelty of the Syndicalist point of view. All the members of the new school know that they had to make great efforts in order to overcome the prejudices of their upbringing, to set aside the associations of ideas which sprang up spontaneously in their mind, and to reason along lines which in no way corresponded to those which they had been taught.
During the nineteenth century there existed an incredible scientific ingenuousness which was the direct outcome of the illusions that had aroused so much excitement towards the end of the eighteenth century. Because astronomers had managed to calculate the tables of the moon, it was believed that the aim of all science was to forecast the future with accuracy; because Le Verrier had been able to indicate the probable position of the planet Neptune—which had never been seen, and which accounted for the disturbances of observable planets—it was believed that science could remedy the defects of society, and indicate what measures should be taken to bring about the disappearance of the unpleasant things in the world. It may be said that this was the middle-class conception of science: it certainly corresponds very closely to the mental attitude of those capitalists, who, ignorant of the perfected appliances of their workshops, yet direct industry, and always find ingenious inventors to get them out of their difficulties. For the middle class science is a mill which produces solutions to all the problems we are faced with: science is no longer ​considered as a perfected means to knowledge, but only as a recipe for procuring certain advantages.
I have said that Marx rejected all attempts to determine the conditions of a future society; too much stress cannot be laid on this point, for it shows that he took his stand outside middle-class science. The doctrine of the general strike also repudiates this science, and many professors consequently accuse the new school of having negative ideas only; their own aim, on the other hand, is the noble one of constructing universal happiness. The leaders of social democracy, it seems to me, have not been very Marxian on this point; a few years ago, Kautsky wrote a preface to a somewhat burlesque Utopia.
I believe that among the motives which led Bernstein to part from his old friends must be counted the horror which he felt for their Utopias. If Bernstein had lived in France and had known our revolutionary Syndicalism, he would soon have perceived that the latter was on the true Marxian track; but neither in England nor in Germany did he find a working-class movement which could guide him; wishing to remain attached to realities, as Marx had been, he thought that it was better to carry on a policy of social reform, pursuing practical ends, than to lull himself to sleep to the sound of fine phrases about the happiness of future humanity.
The worshippers of this useless pseudo science did not allow themselves to be stopped by the objection, legitimate in this case, that their methods of calculation were entirely inadequate of their means of determination. Their conception of science, being derived from astronomy, supposes ​that everything can be expressed by some mathematical law. Evidently there are no laws of this kind in sociology; but man is always susceptible to analogies connected with the forms of expression: it was thought that a high degree of perfection had been attained, and that already something had been accomplished for science when—starting from a few principles not offensive to common sense, which seem confirmed by a few common experiences—it had been found possible to present a doctrine in a simple, clear, and deductive manner. This so-called science is simply chatter.
The Utopists excelled in the art of exposition in accordance with these prejudices; the more their exposition satisfied the requirements of a school book, the more convincing they thought their inventions were. I believe that the contrary of this belief is the truth, and that we should distrust proposals for social reform all the more, when every difficulty seems solved in an apparently satisfactory manner.
I should like to examine here, very briefly, a few of the illusions which have arisen out of what may be called the little science, which believes that when it has attained ​clarity of exposition that it has attained truth. This little science has contributed a great deal towards creating the crisis in Marxism, and every day we hear the new school accused of delighting in the obscurities of which Marx has so often been accused, while French Socialists and Belgian Sociologists, on the contrary, … !
Perhaps the best way of giving an accurate idea of the error committed by these sham scientists against whom the new school is waging war will be to examine the general characteristics of some social phenomena, and to run through some of the achievements of the mind, beginning with the highest.
A. (1) The positivists, who represent, in an eminent degree, mediocrity, pride, and pedantry, had decreed that philosophy was to give way before their science; but philosophy is not dead, and it has acquired a new and vigorous lease of life thanks to Bergson, who far from wishing to reduce everything to science, has claimed for the philosopher the right to proceed in a manner quite opposed to that employed by the scientist. It might be said that metaphysics has reclaimed the lost ground by demonstrating to man the illusion of so-called scientific solutions, and by bringing the mind back to the mysterious region which the little science abhors. Positivism is still admired by a few Belgians, the employees of the Office du Travail, and General André; but these are people who count for very little in the world of thought.
(2) Religions do not seem to be on the point of disappearing. Liberal Protestantism is dying because it ​attempted, at all costs, to give a perfectly rationalistic exposition of Christian theology. Auguste Comte manufactured a caricature of Catholicism, in which he had retained only the administrative, hierarchical, and disciplinary machinery of that Church; his attempt obtained success only with those people who like to laugh at the simplicity of their dupes. In the course of the nineteenth century, Catholicism recovered strength to an extraordinary degree because it would abandon nothing; it even strengthened its mysteries, and, what is very curious, it gains ground in cultivated circles where the rationalism which was formerly in fashion at the University is scoffed at.
(3) The old claim made by our fathers that they had created a science of art or even that they could describe a work of art in so adequate a manner that the reader could obtain from a book an exact aesthetic appreciation of a picture or of a statue, we look upon nowadays as a perfect example of pedantry. Taine's efforts in the direction first mentioned are very interesting, but only as regards the history of the various schools. His method gives us no useful information about the works themselves. As for the descriptions, they are only of value if the works themselves are of small aesthetic value, and if they belong to what is sometimes called literary painting. The poorest photograph of the Parthenon conveys a hundred times as much information as a volume devoted to the praise of the marvels of this monument; it seems to me that the famous Prière sur l'Acropole, so often praised as one of the finest passages in Renan, is a rather remarkable example of rhetoric, and that it is much more likely to render Greek art unintelligible to us than to make us admire the Parthenon. Despite all his enthusiasm for Diderot ​(which is sometimes comical and expressed nonsensically), Joseph Reinach is obliged to acknowledge that his hero was lacking in artistic feeling in his famous Salons, because Diderot appreciated most of all those pictures which offered possibilities of literary dissertation, and Brunetière could say that Diderot's Salons were the corruption of criticism, because he discussed works of art in them as if they were books.
The impotence of speech is due to the fact that art flourishes best on mystery, half shades and indeterminate outlines; the more speech is methodical and perfect, the more likely is it to eliminate everything that distinguishes a masterpiece; it reduces the masterpiece to the proportions of an academic product.
As a result of this preliminary examination of the three highest achievements of the mind, we are led to believe that it is possible to distinguish in every complex body of knowledge a clear and an obscure region, and to say that the latter is perhaps the more important. The mistake made by superficial people consists in the statement that this second part must disappear with the progress of enlightenment, and that eventually everything will be explained rationally in terms of the little science. This error is particularly revolting as regards art, and, above all, perhaps, as regards modern painting, which seeks more and more to render combinations of shades to which no attention was formerly paid on account of their lack of stability and of the difficulty of rendering them by speech.
B. (1) In ethics, the part that can be expressed easily, ​in clearly reasoned expositions, is that which has reference to the equitable relations between men; it contains maxims which are to be found in many different civilisations; consequently it was for a long time believed that a résumé of these precepts might form the basis of a natural morality applicable to the whole of humanity. The obscure part of morality is that which has reference to sexual relationships, and this part is not easily expressed in formulas; to understand it thoroughly you must have lived in a country for a great number of years. It is, moreover, the fundamental part; when it is known the whole psychology of a people is understood; the supposed uniformity of the first system in reality then conceals many differences; almost identical maxims may correspond to very different applications; their clearness was only a delusion.
(2) In legislation, everybody sees immediately that the law regulating contracts and debts constitutes the obvious part, that which is called scientific; here again there is great uniformity in the rules adopted by different peoples, and it was believed that it was eminently desirable to draw up a common code founded on a rational revision of those which existed, but in practice it is again found that, in different countries, the courts generally attach different meanings to these supposed common principles; that is because there is something individual and particular in each maxim.
The mysterious region is the family, which influences all social relationships. Le Play was very much struck by an opinion of Tocqueville on this subject: "I am astonished," said this great thinker, "that ancient and modern publicists have not attributed a greater influence on the progress of human affairs to the laws of inheritance. These laws, it is true, refer to civil private affairs, but they should be placed at the head of all political institutions, for they have an incredible influence on the ​social state of peoples, of which state the political laws are only the expression." This remark governed all the researches of Le Play.
This division of legislation into a clear and an obscure region has one curious consequence: it is very rare for people who are not members of the legal professions to undertake any discussion of equity; they know that it is necessary to have an intimate knowledge of certain rules of law, in order to be able to argue about these questions: an outsider would run the risk of making himself ridiculous if he were to venture on an opinion; but on the question of divorce, of paternal authority, of inheritance, every man of letters believes himself as learned as the cleverest lawyer, because in this obscure region there are no well-defined principles, nor regular deductions.
(3) In economics, the same distinction is, perhaps, still more evident; questions relative to exchange can be easily expounded; the methods of exchange are very much alike in the different countries, and it is hardly likely that any very violent paradoxes will be made about monetary circulation. On the other hand, everything relative to production presents a complexity which is sometimes inextricable; it is in production that local traditions are most strongly maintained; ridiculous Utopias regarding production may be invented indefinitely without revolting the common sense of readers. Nobody denies that production is the fundamental part of any economic system; this is a truth which plays a great part in Marxism, and which has been acknowledged even by authors who have been unable to understand its importance.
​C. Let us now examine how Parliamentary assemblies work. For a long time it was believed that their principal function was that of arguing out the most important questions of social organisation, and, above all, those relating to the constitution. In such matters it is possible to proceed from first principles by way of deduction to clear and concise conclusions. Our forefathers excelled in this scholastic type of argument, which forms the luminous part of political discussions. Now that the question of the constitution is scarcely ever discussed, certain great laws still give rise to fine oratorical tournaments; thus on the question of the separation of the Church and the State, the professional expounders of first principles were heard and even applauded; it was the opinion of all that the debates had rarely reached so high a level, and this was because the question was one that lent itself to academic discussion. But when, as more frequently happens, commercial laws or social measures are discussed, then we see the stupidity of our representatives displayed in all its splendour; ministers, presidents, or rapporteurs de commissions, specialists, vie with each other in displays of stupidity; the reason for this is that we are now dealing with economic questions, and the mind is no longer guided by simple rules; in order to be able to give an opinion worthy of consideration on these questions, one must have had a practical acquaintance with them, and our honourable members cannot be said to possess this kind of knowledge. Among them may be found many representatives of the little science; on July 5, 1905, a well-known specialist in venereal diseases ​declared that he had not studied political economy, having "a certain mistrust for that conjectural science." We must doubtless understand from this that it is more difficult to argue about production than it is to diagnose syphilis.
The little science has engendered a fabulous number of sophistries which we continually come across, and which go down very well with the people who possess the stupid and mediocre culture distributed by the University. These sophistries consist in putting very different things on the same plane from a love of logical simplicity; thus sexual morality is reduced to the equitable relations between contracting parties, the family code to that regulating debts and agreements, and production to exchange.
Because, in nearly every country and in every age, the State has undertaken to regulate circulation, both of money and of banknotes, or has laid down a legal system of measures, it does not by any means follow that there would be the same advantage in entrusting to the State, for mere love of uniformity, the management of great enterprises: yet this argument is one of those which appeal most strongly to many medical students and nurslings of the School of Law. I am convinced that Jaurès is even now unable to understand why industry has been abandoned by lazy legislators to the anarchical tendencies of egotists; if production is really the base of everything, as Marx says, it is criminal not to place it in the front rank, not to subject it to a great legislative action, conceived on the same lines as those parts of legislation which owe their clearness to their abstract character, i.e. not to order and arrange it so that it rests ​on great principles analogous to those which are brought forward when constitutional laws are discussed.
Socialism is necessarily very obscure, since it deals with production, i.e. with the most mysterious part of human activity, and since it proposes to bring about a radical transformation of that region which it is impossible to describe with the clearness that is to be found in more superficial regions. No effort of thought, no progress of knowledge, no rational induction will ever dispel the mystery which envelops Socialism; and it is because the philosophy of Marx recognised fully this feature of Socialism that it acquired the right to serve as the starting-point of Socialist inquiry.
But we must hasten to add that this obscurity lies only in the language by which we endeavour to describe the methods of realising Socialism; this obscurity may be said to be scholastic only; it does not in the least prevent us picturing the proletarian movement in a way that is exact, complete, and striking, and this may be achieved by the aid of that powerful construction which the proletarian mind has conceived in the course of social conflicts, and which is called the "general strike." It must never be forgotten that the perfection of this method of representation would vanish in a moment if any attempt were made to resolve the general strike into a sum of historical details; the general strike must he taken as a whole and undivided, and the passage from capitalism to Socialism conceived as a catastrophe, the development of which baffles description.
The professors of the little science are really difficult to satisfy. They assert very loudly that they will only admit into thought abstractions analogous to those used in the deductive sciences: as a matter of fact, this is a rule which is insufficient for purposes of action, for we do nothing great without the help of warmly-coloured and clearly-defined images, which absorb the whole of our ​attention; now, is it possible to find anything more satisfying from their point of view than the general strike? But, reply the professors, we ought to rely only on those realities which are given by experience: is, then, the picture of the general strike made up of tendencies which were not obtained directly from observation of the revolutionary movement? Is it a work of pure reason, manufactured by indoor scientists attempting to solve the social problem according to the rules of logic? Is it something arbitrary? Is it not, on the contrary, a spontaneous product analogous to those others which students of history come across in periods of action? They insist, and say that man ought not to let himself be carried away by his impulses without submitting them to the control of his intelligence, whose rights are unchallenged; nobody dreams of disputing them; of course, this picture of the general strike must be tested, and that is what I have tried to do above; but the critical spirit does not consist in replacing historical data by the charlatanism of a sham science.
If it is desired to criticise the basis of the idea of the general strike, the attack must be directed against the revolutionary tendencies which it groups together, and shows as in action; by no other method worthy of attention can you hope to prove to the revolutionaries that they are wrong in giving all their energies to the cause of Socialism, and that their real interests would be better served if they were politicians; they have known this for a long time, and their choice is made; as they do not take up a utilitarian standpoint, any advice which you may give will be in vain.
We are perfectly well aware that the historians of the future are bound to discover that we laboured under many illusions, because they will see behind them a finished world. We, on the other hand, must act, and nobody can tell us to-day what these historians will know; ​nobody can furnish us with the means of modifying our motor images in such a way as to avoid their criticisms.
Our situation resembles somewhat that of the physicists who work at huge calculations based on theories which are not destined to endure for ever. We have nowadays abandoned all hope of discovering a complete science of nature; the spectacle of modern scientific revolutions is not encouraging for scientists, and has no doubt led many people, naturally enough, to proclaim the bankruptcy of science, and yet we should be mad if we handed the management of industry over to sorcerers, mediums, and wonder-workers. The philosopher who does not seek to make a practical application of his theories may take up the point of view of the future historian of science, and then dispute the absolute character of present-day scientific theses; but he is as ignorant as the present-day physicist when he is asked how to correct the explanations given by the latter; must he therefore take refuge in scepticism?
Nowadays no philosophers worthy of consideration accept the sceptical position; their great aim, on the contrary, is to prove the legitimacy of a science which, however, makes no claim to know the real nature of things, and which confines itself to discovering relations which can be utilised for practical ends. It is because sociology is in the hands of people who are incapable of any philosophic reasoning that it is possible for us to be attacked (in the name of the little science) for being content with methods founded on the laws that a really thorough psychological analysis reveals as fundamental in the genesis of action, and which are revealed to us in all great historical movements.
To proceed scientifically means, first of all, to know what forces exist in the world, and then to take measures whereby we may utilise them, by reasoning from experience. That is why I say that, by accepting the idea of the general ​strike, although we know that it is a myth, we are proceeding exactly as a modern physicist does who has complete confidence in his science, although he knows that the future will look upon it as antiquated. It is we who really possess the scientific spirit, while our critics have lost touch both with modern science and modern philosophy; and having proved this, we are quite easy in our minds.
* ↑ The Petit Parisien, which makes a specialty of Socialist and working-class questions, warned strikers on March 31, 1907, that they "must never imagine that they are absolved from the observance of the ordinary social duties and responsibilities."
* ↑ At the time when the antimilitarists were beginning to occupy public attention, the Petit Parisien was distinguished by its patriotism: on October 8, 1905, it published an article on "The Sacred Duty" and on "The Worship of this Tricolor Flag which has carried all over the World our Glories and our Liberties"; on January 1, 1906, it congratulated the Jury de la Seine: "The flag has been avenged for the insults flung by its detractors on this noble emblem. When it is carried through the streets it is saluted. The juries have done more than bow to it; they have gathered round it with respect." This is certainly very cautious Socialism.
* ↑ Two motions had been discussed at length by the National Council, one proposing that the departmental federations should be invited to enter the electoral struggle wherever it was possible, the other that candidates should be put forward everywhere. One member got up and said, "I should be glad of your earnest attention, for the argument which I am about to state may at first sight appear strange and paradoxical. (These two motions) are not irreconcilable, if we try to solve this contradiction according to the natural Marxian method of solving any contradiction" (Socialiste, October 7, 1905). It seems that nobody understood. And, in fact, it was unintelligible.
* ↑ The nature of these articles will not allow of any long discussion of this subject; but I believe that it would be possible to develop still further the application of Bergson's ideas to the theory of the general strike. Movement, in Bergson's philosophy, is looked upon as an undivided whole; which leads us precisely to the catastrophic conception of Socialism.
* ↑ Bourdeau, Évolution du Socialisme, p. 232.
* ↑ This is seen, for example, in the efforts made by the trade unions to obtain laws absolving them from the civil responsibilities of their acts.
* ↑ Tarde could never understand the reputation enjoyed by Sidney Webb, who seemed to him to be a worthless scribbler.
* ↑ Métin, Le Socialisme en Angleterre, p. 210. This writer has received from the Government a certificate of socialism; on July 26, 1904, the French Commissioner-General at the St. Louis exhibition said: "M. Métin is animated by the best democratic spirit; he is an excellent republican; he is even a socialist whom working-class organisation should welcome as a friend" (Association ouvrière, July 30, 1904). An amusing study could be made of those persons who possess certificates of this kind, given to them, either by the Government, the Musée social, or the well-informed press.
* ↑ The errors committed by Marx are numerous and sometimes enormous (cf. G. Sorel, Saggi di critica del marxismo, pp. 51–57).
* ↑ It has often been remarked that English or American sectarians whose religious exaltation was fed by the apocalyptic myths were often none the less very practical men.
* ↑ At the present time, this doctrine occupies an important place in German exegesis; it was introduced into France by the Abbé Loisy.
* ↑ Cf. the Letter to Daniel Halévy, IV.
* ↑ In French petite science. This expression is used to indicate the popular science with which the majority is much more familiar than it is with the difficult researches of the real scientists. These latter are generally as modest as the writers on popular science are vain and boastful.
* ↑ I have tried to show elsewhere how this social myth, which has disappeared, was succeeded by a piety which has remained extremely important in Catholic life; this evolution from the social to the individual, seems to me quite natural in a religion (Le Système historique de Renan, pp. 374–382).
* ↑ I believe, moreover, that the whole of Spencer's evolutionism is to be explained as an application of the most commonplace psychology to physics.
* ↑ This is another application of Bergson's theories.
* ↑ This is the "global knowledge" of Bergson's philosophy.
* ↑ I do not remember that the official Socialists have ever shown up the ridiculousness of the novels of Bellamy, which have had so great a success. These novels needed criticism all the more, because they presented to the people an entirely middle-class ideal of life. They were a natural product of America, a country which is ignorant of the class war; but in Europe, would not the theorists of the class war have understood them?
* ↑ In the article which I have already quoted, Clemenceau recalls that Jaurès made use of these outbidding tactics in a long speech which he made at Beziers.
* ↑ In an article, Introduction à la metaphysique, published in 1903, Bergson points out that disciples are always inclined to exaggerate the points of difference between masters, and that "the master in so far as he formulates, develops, translates into abstract ideas what he brings is already in a way his own disciple." [Eng. trans, by T. E. Hulme.]
* ↑ A. Métin. op. cit. p. 191.
* ↑ G. Sorel, Avenir socialiste des syndieats, p. 12.
* ↑ Bergson, loc. cit.
* ↑ Bergson, loc. cit.
* ↑ I do not know whether the learned (economists and other people who make inquiries on social conditions) have always quite understood the function of piece-work. It is evident that the well-known formula, "the producer should be able to buy back his product," arose from reflections on the subject of piece-work.
* ↑ "It may be said that the economic history of society turns on this antithesis,"—of town and country (Capital, vol. i. p. 152, col. 1).
* ↑ It may be remembered that in the eruption at Martinique a governor perished who, in 1879, had been one of the protagonists of the Socialist congress held at Marseilles. The Commune itself was not fatal to all its partisans; several have had fairly distinguished careers; the ambassador of France at Rome was among the most importunate of those who, in 1871, demanded the death of the hostages.
* ↑ G. Le Bon, Psychologie du socialisme, 3rd ed. p. 111 and pp. 457–459. The author, who a few years ago was treated as an imbecile by the little bullies of university Socialism, is one of the most original physicists of our time.
* ↑ The Socialists are mistaken in believing that the existence of a middle class is bound up with the existence of the capitalist industrial system. Any country submitted to a bureaucracy, directing production—either directly or through corporations—would have a middle class.
* ↑ I know, for instance, a very enlightened Catholic, who gives vent with singular acrimony to his contempt for the French middle class; but his ideal is Americanism, i.e. a very young and very active capitalistic society.
* ↑ P. de Rousiers was very much struck by the way rich fathers in the United States forced their sons to earn their own living; he often met "Frenchmen who were profoundly shocked by what they called the egoism of American fathers. It seemed revolting to them that a rich man should leave his son to earn his own living, that he did nothing to set him up in life" (La Vie américaine, l'éducation et la société, p. 9).
* ↑ Capital, vol. i. p. 342, col. 1.
* ↑ It is not difficult to see that propagandists are obliged to refer frequently to this aspect of the social revolution: this will take place while the intermediary classes are still in existence, but when they become sickened by the farce of social pacification, and when a period of such great economic progress has been reached that the future will appear in colours favourable to everybody.
* ↑ Kautsky has often dwelt on this idea, of which Engels was particularly fond.
* ↑ Bernstein said about this story that Brentano might have exaggerated a little, but that "the phrase quoted by him was not inconsistent with Marx's general line of thought" (Mouvement socialiste, September 1, 1899, p. 270). Of what can Utopias be composed? Of the past and often of a very far-off past; it is probably for this reason that Marx called Beesly a reactionary, while everybody else was astonished at his revolutionary boldness. The Catholics are not the only people who are hypnotised by the Middle Ages, and Yves Guyot pokes fun at the collectivist troubadourism of Lafargue (Lafargue and Y. Guyot, La Propriété, pp. 121–122).
* ↑ I have elsewhere put forward the hypothesis that Marx, in the penultimate chapter of the first volume of Capital perhaps wished to demonstrate the difference between the evolution of the proletariat and that of middle-class force. He said that the working class is disciplined, united and organised by the very mechanism of capitalist production. There is perhaps an indication of a movement towards liberty, opposed to the movement towards automatism which will be discussed later when we come to consider middle-class force (Saggi di critica. pp. 46–47).
* ↑ The history of scientific superstitions is of the deepest interest to philosophers who wish to understand Socialism. These superstitions have remained dear to our democracy, as they had been dear to the beaux esprits of the Old Régime; I have touched on a few of the aspects of this history in Les Illusions du progrès. Engels was often under the influence of these errors, from which Marx himself was not always free.
* ↑ Marx quotes this curious phrase from Ure, written about 1830: "This invention supports the doctrine already developed by us: if capital enlists the aid of science, the rebel hand of labour always learns how to be tractable" (Capital, Eng. trans., vol. i. p. 188, col. 2).
* ↑ To use the language of the new school, science was considered from the point of view of the consumer and not from the point of view of the producer.
* ↑ Atlanticus, Ein Blick in den Zukunftsstaat. E. Seillière reviewed this book in the Débats of August 16, 1899.
* ↑ "It has not been enough noticed how feeble is the reach of deduction in the psychological and moral sciences. … Very soon appeal has to be made to common sense, that is to say, to the continuous experience of the real, in order to inflect the consequences deduced and bend them along the sinuosities of life. Deduction succeeds in things moral only metaphorically so to speak" (Bergson, Creative Evolution, p. 224). Newman had already written something similar to this, but in more precise terms: "Thus it is that the logician for his own purposes, and most usefully as far as these purposes are concerned, turns rivers, full, winding and beautiful, into navigable canals. … His business is not to ascertain facts in the concrete but to find and dress up middle terms; and, provided they and the extremes which they go between are not equivocal, either in themselves or in their use. Supposing he can enable his pupils to show well in a viva voce disputation, … he has achieved the main purpose of his profession" (Grammar of Assent, pp. 261–262). There is no weakness in this denunciation of small talk.
* ↑ See note, p. 66.
* ↑ This is the office of the Minister for Labour, and is principally occupied with the Syndicates. It gives itself a certain socialistic air in the hope of duping the workmen.
* ↑ A few years ago, this illustrious warrior (?) was instrumental in blocking the candidature for the Collège de France of Paul Tennery (whose erudition was universally recognised in Europe) in favour of a positivist. The positivists constitute a lay congregation which is ready for any dirty work.
* ↑ Pascal protested eloquently against those who considered obscurity an objection against Catholicism, and Brunetière was right in looking upon him as being one of the most anticartesian of the men of his time (Études critiques, 4ᵉ série, pp. 144–149).
* ↑ J. Reinach,Diderot, pp. 116–117, 125–127, 131–132.
* ↑ Brunetière, Évolution des genres, p. 122. Elsewhere he calls Diderot a philistine, p. 153.
* ↑ It is to the credit of the impressionists that they showed that these fine shades can be rendered by painting; but some few among them soon began to paint according to the formulas of a school, and then there appeared a scandalous contrast between their works and their avowed aims.
* ↑ Tocqueville, Démocratie en Amérique, tome i. chap. iii. Le Play, Réforme sociale en France, chap. xvii. 4.
* ↑ In my Introduction à l'économie moderne I have shown how this distinction may be used to throw light on many questions which had till then remained exceedingly obscure, and notably to show the exact value of certain important arguments used by Proudhon.
* ↑ [Laws in France are discussed by a committee elected by the Chamber; they alter the text of the law, and it is the duty of the rapporteur, named by the committee, to defend the amended text in open discussion in the Chamber.—Trans. Note.]
* ↑ Doctor Augagneur was for a long time one of the glories of that class of Intellectuals who looked upon Socialism as a variety of Dreyfusism; his great protests in favour of Justice have brought him to the governorship of Madagascar, which proves that virtue is sometimes rewarded.