{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39257/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39257","id":"gutenberg_39257","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39257","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Politics","Socialism"],"text":"Produced by Adrian Mastronardi and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/Canadian Libraries)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    +-----------------------------------------------------------+\n    | Transcriber's Note:                                       |\n    |                                                           |\n    | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has     |\n    | been preserved.                                           |\n    |                                                           |\n    | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For     |\n    | a complete list, please see the end of this document.     |\n    |                                                           |\n    +-----------------------------------------------------------+\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n                                             25 CENTS\n\n\n                           SOCIALISM\n\n                    UTOPIAN AND SCIENTIFIC\n\n                     _By Frederick Engels_\n\n                    [Illustration: _Labor_]\n\n                   CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY\n\n                     _Publishers CHICAGO_\n\n\n\n\nPRINTED IN U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\n  SOCIALISM\n\n  UTOPIAN AND SCIENTIFIC\n\n\n  BY\n\n  FREDERICK ENGELS\n\n\n  _TRANSLATED BY EDWARD AVELING_\n  _D.Sc., Fellow of University College, London_\n\n\n  WITH A SPECIAL INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR\n\n\n  CHICAGO\n  CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY\n\n\n\n\nPUBLISHER'S NOTE\n\n\nSocialism, Utopian and Scientific needs no preface. It ranks with the\nCommunist Manifesto as one of the indispensable books for any one\ndesiring to understand the modern socialist movement. It has been\ntranslated into every language where capitalism prevails, and its\ncirculation is more rapid than ever before.\n\nIn 1900, when our publishing house had just begun the circulation of\nsocialist books, we brought out the first American reprint of the\nauthorized translation of this work. The many editions required by the\ngrowing demand have worn out the plates, and we are now reprinting it\nin more attractive form.\n\nIt will be observed that the author in his introduction says that from\n1883 to 1892, 20,000 copies of the book were sold in Germany. Our own\nsales of the book in America from 1900 to 1908 were not less than\n30,000.\n\nLast year we published the first English version of the larger work to\nwhich the author refers in the opening page of his introduction. The\ntranslation is by Austin Lewis, and bears the title \"Landmarks of\nScientific Socialism\" (cloth, $1.00). It includes the greater portion\nof the original work, omitting what is presented here, and also some\nof the personalities due to the heat of controversy.\n\nFrederick Engels is second only to Karl Marx among socialist writers,\nand his influence in the United States is only beginning.\n\n                                                      C.H.K.\n\n  June, 1908.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe present little book is, originally, a part of a larger whole.\nAbout 1875, Dr. E. Duehring, _privatdocent_ at Berlin University,\nsuddenly and rather clamorously announced his conversion to Socialism,\nand presented the German public not only with an elaborate Socialist\ntheory, but also with a complete practical plan for the reorganization\nof society. As a matter of course, he fell foul of his predecessors;\nabove all, he honored Marx by pouring out upon him the full vials of\nhis wrath.\n\nThis took place about the time when the two sections of the Socialist\nparty in Germany--Eisenachers and Lassallians--had just effected their\nfusion, and thus obtained not only an immense increase of strength,\nbut, what was more, the faculty of employing the whole of this\nstrength against the common enemy. The Socialist party in Germany was\nfast becoming a power. But to make it a power, the first condition was\nthat the newly-conquered unity should not be imperiled. And Dr.\nDuehring openly proceeded to form around himself a sect, the nucleus\nof a future separate party. It thus became necessary to take up the\ngauntlet thrown down to us, and to fight out the struggle whether we\nliked it or not.\n\nThis, however, though it might not be an over difficult, was evidently\na long-winded, business. As is well known, we Germans are of a\nterribly ponderous _Gruendlichkeit_, radical profundity or profound\nradicality, whatever you may like to call it. Whenever anyone of us\nexpounds what he considers a new doctrine, he has first to elaborate\nit into an all-comprising system. He has to prove that both the first\nprinciples of logic and the fundamental laws of the universe had\nexisted from all eternity for no other purpose than to ultimately lead\nto this newly-discovered, crowning theory. And Dr. Duehring, in this\nrespect, was quite up to the national mark. Nothing less than a\ncomplete \"System of Philosophy,\" mental, moral, natural, and\nhistorical; a complete \"System of Political Economy and Socialism\";\nand, finally, a \"Critical History of Political Economy\"--three big\nvolumes in octavo, heavy extrinsically and intrinsically, three\narmy-corps of arguments mobilized against all previous philosophers\nand economists in general, and against Marx in particular--in fact, an\nattempt at a complete \"revolution in science\"--these were what I\nshould have to tackle. I had to treat of all and every possible\nsubject, from the concepts of time and space to Bimetallism; from the\neternity of matter and motion to the perishable nature of moral\nideas; from Darwin's natural selection to the education of youth in a\nfuture society. Anyhow, the systematic comprehensiveness of my\nopponent gave me the opportunity of developing, in opposition to him,\nand in a more connected form than had previously been done, the views\nheld by Marx and myself on this great variety of subjects. And that\nwas the principal reason which made me undertake this otherwise\nungrateful task.\n\nMy reply was first published in a series of articles in the Leipzig\n\"Vorwaerts,\" the chief organ of the Socialist party, and later on as a\nbook: \"Herrn Eugen Duehring's Umwaelzung der Wissenschaft\" (Mr. E.\nDuehring's \"Revolution in Science\"), a second edition of which appeared\nin Zuerich, 1886.\n\nAt the request of my friend, Paul Lafargue, now representative of\nLille in the French Chamber of Deputies, I arranged three chapters of\nthis book as a pamphlet, which he translated and published in 1880,\nunder the title: \"_Socialisme utopique et Socialisme scientifique_.\"\nFrom this French text a Polish and a Spanish edition were prepared. In\n1883, our German friends brought out the pamphlet in the original\nlanguage. Italian, Russian, Danish, Dutch, and Roumanian translations,\nbased upon the German text, have since been published. Thus, with the\npresent English edition, this little book circulates in ten\nlanguages. I am not aware that any other Socialist work, not even our\n\"Communist Manifesto\" of 1848 or Marx's \"Capital,\" has been so often\ntranslated. In Germany it has had four editions of about 20,000 copies\nin all.\n\nThe economic terms used in this work, as far as they are new, agree\nwith those used in the English edition of Marx's \"Capital.\" We call\n\"production of commodities\" that economic phase where articles are\nproduced not only for the use of the producers, but also for purposes\nof exchange; that is, as _commodities_, not as use-values. This phase\nextends from the first beginnings of production for exchange down to\nour present time; it attains its full development under capitalist\nproduction only, that is, under conditions where the capitalist, the\nowner of the means of production, employs, for wages, laborers, people\ndeprived of all means of production except their own labor-power, and\npockets the excess of the selling price of the products over his\noutlay. We divide the history of industrial production since the\nMiddle Ages into three periods: (1) handicraft, small master craftsmen\nwith a few journeymen and apprentices, where each laborer produces the\ncomplete article; (2) manufacture, where greater numbers of workmen,\ngrouped in one large establishment, produce the complete article on\nthe principle of division of labor, each workman performing only one\npartial operation, so that the product is complete only after having\npassed successively through the hands of all; (3) modern industry,\nwhere the product is produced by machinery driven by power, and where\nthe work of the laborer is limited to superintending and correcting\nthe performances of the mechanical agent.\n\nI am perfectly aware that the contents of this work will meet with\nobjection from a considerable portion of the British public. But if we\nContinentals had taken the slightest notice of the prejudices of\nBritish \"respectability,\" we should be even worse off than we are.\nThis book defends what we call \"historical materialism,\" and the word\nmaterialism grates upon the ears of the immense majority of British\nreaders. \"Agnosticism\" might be tolerated, but materialism is utterly\ninadmissible.\n\nAnd yet the original home of all modern materialism, from the\nseventeenth century onwards, is England.\n\n\"Materialism is the natural-born son of Great Britain. Already the\nBritish schoolman, Duns Scotus, asked, 'whether it was impossible for\nmatter to think?'\n\n\"In order to effect this miracle, he took refuge in God's omnipotence,\n_i.e._, he made theology preach materialism. Moreover, he was a\nnominalist. Nominalism, the first form of materialism, is chiefly\nfound among the English schoolmen.\n\n\"The real progenitor of English materialism is Bacon. To him natural\nphilosophy is the only true philosophy, and physics based upon the\nexperience of the senses is the chiefest part of natural philosophy.\nAnaxagoras and his homoiomeriae, Democritus and his atoms, he often\nquotes as his authorities. According to him the senses are infallible\nand the source of all knowledge. All science is based on experience,\nand consists in subjecting the data furnished by the senses to a\nrational method of investigation. Induction, analysis, comparison,\nobservation, experiment, are the principal forms of such a rational\nmethod. Among the qualities inherent in matter, motion is the first\nand foremost, not only in the form of mechanical and mathematical\nmotion, but chiefly in the form of an impulse, a vital spirit, a\ntension--or a 'qual,' to use a term of Jacob Boehme's[A]--of matter.\n\n\"In Bacon, its first creator, materialism still occludes within itself\nthe germs of a many-sided development. On the one hand, matter,\nsurrounded by a sensuous, poetic glamour, seems to attract man's whole\nentity by winning smiles. On the other, the aphoristically formulated\ndoctrine pullulates with inconsistencies imported from theology.\n\n\"In its further evolution, materialism becomes one-sided. Hobbes is\nthe man who systematizes Baconian materialism. Knowledge based upon\nthe senses loses its poetic blossom, it passes into the abstract\nexperience of the mathematician; geometry is proclaimed as the queen\nof sciences. Materialism takes to misanthropy. If it is to overcome\nits opponent, misanthropic, fleshless spiritualism, and that on the\nlatter's own ground, materialism has to chastise its own flesh and\nturn ascetic. Thus, from a sensual, it passes into an intellectual,\nentity; but thus, too, it evolves all the consistency, regardless of\nconsequences, characteristic of the intellect.\n\n\"Hobbes, as Bacon's continuator, argues thus: if all human knowledge\nis furnished by the senses, then our concepts and ideas are but the\nphantoms, divested of their sensual forms, of the real world.\nPhilosophy can but give names to these phantoms. One name may be\napplied to more than one of them. There may even be names of names. It\nwould imply a contradiction if, on the one hand, we maintained that\nall ideas had their origin in the world of sensation, and, on the\nother, that a word was more than a word; that besides the beings known\nto us by our senses, beings which are one and all individuals, there\nexisted also beings of a general, not individual, nature. An unbodily\nsubstance is the same absurdity as an unbodily body. Body, being,\nsubstance, are but different terms for the same reality. _It is\nimpossible to separate thought from matter that thinks._ This matter\nis the substratum of all changes going on in the world. The word\ninfinite is meaningless, unless it states that our mind is capable of\nperforming an endless process of addition. Only material things being\nperceptible to us, we cannot know anything about the existence of God.\nMy own existence alone is certain. Every human passion is a mechanical\nmovement which has a beginning and an end. The objects of impulse are\nwhat we call good. Man is subject to the same laws as nature. Power\nand freedom are identical.\n\n\"Hobbes had systematized Bacon, without, however, furnishing a proof\nfor Bacon's fundamental principle, the origin of all human knowledge\nfrom the world of sensation. It was Locke who, in his Essay on the\nHuman Understanding, supplied this proof.\n\n\"Hobbes had shattered the theistic prejudices of Baconian materialism;\nCollins, Dodwall, Coward, Hartley, Priestley similarly shattered the\nlast theological bars that still hemmed-in Locke's sensationalism. At\nall events, for practical materialists, Theism is but an easy-going\nway of getting rid of religion.\"[B]\n\nThus Karl Marx wrote about the British origin of modern materialism.\nIf Englishmen nowadays do not exactly relish the compliment he paid\ntheir ancestors, more's the pity. It is none the less undeniable that\nBacon, Hobbes, and Locke are the fathers of that brilliant school of\nFrench materialists which made the eighteenth century, in spite of all\nbattles on land and sea won over Frenchmen by Germans and Englishmen,\na pre-eminently French century, even before that crowning French\nRevolution, the results of which we outsiders, in England as well as\nin Germany, are still trying to acclimatize.\n\nThere is no denying it. About the middle of this century, what struck\nevery cultivated foreigner who set up his residence in England, was,\nwhat he was then bound to consider the religious bigotry and stupidity\nof the English respectable middle-class. We, at that time, were all\nmaterialists, or, at least, very advanced freethinkers, and to us it\nappeared inconceivable that almost all educated people in England\nshould believe in all sorts of impossible miracles, and that even\ngeologists like Buckland and Mantell should contort the facts of their\nscience so as not to clash too much with the myths of the book of\nGenesis; while, in order to find people who dared to use their own\nintellectual faculties with regard to religious matters, you had to go\namongst the uneducated, the \"great unwashed,\" as they were then\ncalled, the working people, especially the Owenite Socialists.\n\nBut England has been \"civilized\" since then. The exhibition of 1851\nsounded the knell of English insular exclusiveness. England became\ngradually internationalized, in diet, in manners, in ideas; so much so\nthat I begin to wish that some English manners and customs had made as\nmuch headway on the Continent as other continental habits have made\nhere. Anyhow, the introduction and spread of salad-oil (before 1851\nknown only to the aristocracy) has been accompanied by a fatal spread\nof continental scepticism in matters religious, and it has come to\nthis, that agnosticism, though not yet considered \"the thing\" quite as\nmuch as the Church of England, is yet very nearly on a par, as far as\nrespectability goes, with Baptism, and decidedly ranks above the\nSalvation Army. And I cannot help believing that under these\ncircumstances it will be consoling to many who sincerely regret and\ncondemn this progress of infidelity, to learn that these \"new-fangled\nnotions\" are not of foreign origin, are not \"made in Germany,\" like so\nmany other articles of daily use, but are undoubtedly Old English, and\nthat their British originators two hundred years ago went a good deal\nfurther than their descendants now dare to venture.\n\nWhat, indeed, is agnosticism, but, to use an expressive Lancashire\nterm, \"shamefaced\" materialism? The agnostic's conception of Nature is\nmaterialistic throughout. The entire natural world is governed by law,\nand absolutely excludes the intervention of action from without. But,\nhe adds, we have no means either of ascertaining or of disproving the\nexistence of some Supreme Being beyond the known universe. Now, this\nmight hold good at the time when Laplace, to Napoleon's question, why\nin the great astronomer's _Mecanique celeste_ the Creator was not even\nmentioned, proudly replied: _Je n'avais pas besoin de cette\nhypothese_. But nowadays, in our evolutionary conception of the\nuniverse, there is absolutely no room for either a Creator or a Ruler;\nand to talk of a Supreme Being shut out from the whole existing world,\nimplies a contradiction in terms, and, as it seems to me, a gratuitous\ninsult to the feelings of religious people.\n\nAgain, our agnostic admits that all our knowledge is based upon the\ninformation imparted to us by our senses. But, he adds, how do we know\nthat our senses give us correct representations of the objects we\nperceive through them? And he proceeds to inform us that, whenever he\nspeaks of objects or their qualities, he does in reality not mean\nthese objects and qualities, of which he cannot know anything for\ncertain, but merely the impressions which they have produced on his\nsenses. Now, this line of reasoning seems undoubtedly hard to beat by\nmere argumentation. But before there was argumentation, there was\naction. _Im Anfang war die That._ And human action had solved the\ndifficulty long before human ingenuity invented it. The proof of the\npudding is in the eating. From the moment we turn to our own use\nthese objects, according to the qualities we perceive in them, we put\nto an infallible test the correctness or otherwise of our\nsense-perceptions. If these perceptions have been wrong, then our\nestimate of the use to which an object can be turned must also be\nwrong, and our attempt must fail. But if we succeed in accomplishing\nour aim, if we find that the object does agree with our idea of it,\nand does answer the purpose we intended it for, then that is positive\nproof that our perceptions of it and of its qualities, _so far_, agree\nwith reality outside ourselves. And whenever we find ourselves face to\nface with a failure, then we generally are not long in making out the\ncause that made us fail; we find that the perception upon which we\nacted was either incomplete and superficial, or combined with the\nresults of other perceptions in a way not warranted by them--what we\ncall defective reasoning. So long as we take care to train and to use\nour senses properly, and to keep our action within the limits\nprescribed by perceptions properly made and properly used, so long we\nshall find that the result of our action proves the conformity of our\nperceptions with the objective nature of the things perceived. Not in\none single instance, so far, have we been led to the conclusion that\nour sense-perceptions, scientifically controlled, induce in our minds\nideas respecting the outer world that are, by their very nature, at\nvariance with reality, or that there is an inherent incompatibility\nbetween the outer world and our sense-perceptions of it.\n\nBut then come the Neo-Kantian agnostics and say: We may correctly\nperceive the qualities of a thing, but we cannot by any sensible or\nmental process grasp the thing in itself. This \"thing in itself\" is\nbeyond our ken. To this Hegel, long since, has replied: If you know\nall the qualities of a thing, you know the thing itself; nothing\nremains but the fact that the said thing exists without us; and when\nyour senses have taught you that fact, you have grasped the last\nremnant of the thing in itself, Kant's celebrated unknowable _Ding an\nsich_. To which it may be added, that in Kant's time our knowledge of\nnatural objects was indeed so fragmentary that he might well suspect,\nbehind the little we knew about each of them, a mysterious \"thing in\nitself.\" But one after another these ungraspable things have been\ngrasped, analyzed, and, what is more, _reproduced_ by the giant\nprogress of science; and what we can produce, we certainly cannot\nconsider as unknowable. To the chemistry of the first half of this\ncentury organic substances were such mysterious objects; now, we learn\nto build them up one after another from their chemical elements\nwithout the aid of organic processes. Modern chemists declare that as\nsoon as the chemical constitution of no matter what body is known, it\ncan be built up from its elements. We are still far from knowing the\nconstitution of the highest organic substances, the albuminous bodies;\nbut there is no reason why we should not, if only after centuries,\narrive at that knowledge and, armed with it, produce artificial\nalbumen. But if we arrive at that, we shall at the same time have\nproduced organic life, for life, from its lowest to its highest forms,\nis but the normal mode of existence of albuminous bodies.\n\nAs soon, however, as our agnostic has made these formal mental\nreservations, he talks and acts as the rank materialist he at bottom\nis. He may say that, as far as _we_ know, matter and motion, or as it\nis now called, energy, can neither be created nor destroyed, but that\nwe have no proof of their not having been created at some time or\nother. But if you try to use this admission against him in any\nparticular case, he will quickly put you out of court. If he admits\nthe possibility of spiritualism _in abstracto_, he will have none of\nit _in concreto_. As far as we know and can know, he will tell you\nthere is no Creator and no Ruler of the universe; as far as we are\nconcerned, matter and energy can neither be created nor annihilated;\nfor us, mind is a mode of energy, a function of the brain; all we know\nis that the material world is governed by immutable laws, and so\nforth. Thus, as far as he is a scientific man, as far as he _knows_\nanything, he is a materialist; outside his science, in spheres about\nwhich he knows nothing, he translates his ignorance into Greek and\ncalls it agnosticism.\n\nAt all events, one thing seems clear: even if I was an agnostic, it is\nevident that I could not describe the conception of history sketched\nout in this little book, as \"historical agnosticism.\" Religious people\nwould laugh at me, agnostics would indignantly ask, was I going to\nmake fun of them? And thus I hope even British respectability will not\nbe overshocked if I use, in English as well as in so many other\nlanguages, the term, \"historical materialism,\" to designate that view\nof the course of history, which seeks the ultimate cause and the great\nmoving power of all important historic events in the economic\ndevelopment of society, in the changes in the modes of production and\nexchange, in the consequent division of society into distinct classes,\nand in the struggles of these classes against one another.\n\nThis indulgence will perhaps be accorded to me all the sooner if I\nshow that historical materialism may be of advantage even to British\nrespectability. I have mentioned the fact, that about forty or fifty\nyears ago, any cultivated foreigner settling in England was struck by\nwhat he was then bound to consider the religious bigotry and stupidity\nof the English respectable middle-class. I am now going to prove that\nthe respectable English middle-class of that time was not quite as\nstupid as it looked to the intelligent foreigner. Its religious\nleanings can be explained.\n\nWhen Europe emerged from the Middle Ages, the rising middle-class of\nthe towns constituted its revolutionary element. It had conquered a\nrecognized position within mediaeval feudal organization, but this\nposition, also, had become too narrow for its expansive power. The\ndevelopment of the middle-class, the _bourgeoisie_, became\nincompatible with the maintenance of the feudal system; the feudal\nsystem, therefore, had to fall.\n\nBut the great international center of feudalism was the Roman Catholic\nChurch. It united the whole of feudalized Western Europe, in spite of\nall internal wars, into one grand political system, opposed as much to\nthe schismatic Greeks as to the Mohammedian countries. It surrounded\nfeudal institutions with the halo of divine consecration. It had\norganized its own hierarchy on the feudal model, and, lastly, it was\nitself by far the most powerful feudal lord, holding, as it did, fully\none-third of the soil of the Catholic world. Before profane feudalism\ncould be successively attacked in each country and in detail, this,\nits sacred central organization, had to be destroyed.\n\nMoreover, parallel with the rise of the middle-class went on the great\nrevival of science; astronomy, mechanics, physics, anatomy,\nphysiology, were again cultivated. And the bourgeoisie, for the\ndevelopment of its industrial production, required a science which\nascertained the physical properties of natural objects and the modes\nof action of the forces of Nature. Now up to then science had but been\nthe humble handmaid of the Church, had not been allowed to overstep\nthe limits set by faith, and for that reason had been no science at\nall. Science rebelled against the Church; the bourgeoisie could not do\nwithout science, and, therefore, had to join in the rebellion.\n\nThe above, though touching but two of the points where the rising\nmiddle-class was bound to come into collision with the established\nreligion, will be sufficient to show, first, that the class most\ndirectly interested in the struggle against the pretensions of the\nRoman Church was the bourgeoisie; and second, that every struggle\nagainst feudalism, at that time, had to take on a religious disguise,\nhad to be directed against the Church in the first instance. But if\nthe universities and the traders of the cities started the cry, it was\nsure to find, and did find, a strong echo in the masses of the country\npeople, the peasants, who everywhere had to struggle for their very\nexistence with their feudal lords, spiritual and temporal.\n\nThe long fight of the bourgeoisie against feudalism culminated in\nthree great, decisive battles.\n\nThe first was what is called the Protestant Reformation in Germany.\nThe war-cry raised against the Church by Luther was responded to by\ntwo insurrections of a political nature: first, that of the lower\nnobility under Franz von Sickingen (1523), then the great Peasants'\nWar, 1525. Both were defeated, chiefly in consequence of the\nindecision of the parties most interested, the burghers of the\ntowns--an indecision into the causes of which we cannot here enter.\nFrom that moment the struggle degenerated into a fight between the\nlocal princes and the central power, and ended by blotting out\nGermany, for two hundred years, from the politically active nations of\nEurope. The Lutheran reformation produced a new creed indeed, a\nreligion adapted to absolute monarchy. No sooner were the peasants of\nNorth-east Germany converted to Lutheranism than they were from\nfreemen reduced to serfs.\n\nBut where Luther failed, Calvin won the day. Calvin's creed was one\nfit for the boldest of the bourgeoisie of his time. His predestination\ndoctrine was the religious expression of the fact that in the\ncommercial world of competition success or failure does not depend\nupon a man's activity or cleverness, but upon circumstances\nuncontrollable by him. It is not of him that willeth or of him that\nrunneth, but of the mercy of unknown superior economic powers: and\nthis was especially true at a period of economic revolution, when all\nold commercial routes and centers were replaced by new ones, when\nIndia and America were opened to the world, and when even the most\nsacred economic articles of faith--the value of gold and silver--began\nto totter and to break down. Calvin's church constitution was\nthoroughly democratic and republican; and where the kingdom of God was\nrepublicanized, could the kingdoms of this world remain subject to\nmonarchs, bishops, and lords? While German Lutheranism became a\nwilling tool in the hands of princes, Calvinism founded a republic in\nHolland, and active republican parties in England, and, above all,\nScotland.\n\nIn Calvinism, the second great bourgeois upheaval found its doctrine\nready cut and dried. This upheaval took place in England. The\nmiddle-class of the towns brought it on, and the yeomanry of the\ncountry districts fought it out. Curiously enough, in all the three\ngreat bourgeois risings, the peasantry furnishes the army that has to\ndo the fighting; and the peasantry is just the class that, the victory\nonce gained, is most surely ruined by the economic consequences of\nthat victory. A hundred years after Cromwell, the yeomanry of England\nhad almost disappeared. Anyhow, had it not been for that yeomanry and\nfor the _plebeian_ element in the towns, the bourgeoisie alone would\nnever have fought the matter out to the bitter end, and would never\nhave brought Charles I. to the scaffold. In order to secure even those\nconquests of the bourgeoisie that were ripe for gathering at the\ntime, the revolution had to be carried considerably further--exactly\nas in 1793 in France and 1848 in Germany. This seems, in fact, to be\none of the laws of evolution of bourgeois society.\n\nWell, upon this excess of revolutionary activity there necessarily\nfollowed the inevitable reaction which in its turn went beyond the\npoint where it might have maintained itself. After a series of\noscillations, the new center of gravity was at last attained and\nbecame a new starting-point. The grand period of English history,\nknown to respectability under the name of \"the Great Rebellion,\" and\nthe struggles succeeding it, were brought to a close by the\ncomparatively puny event entitled by Liberal historians, \"the Glorious\nRevolution.\"\n\nThe new starting-point was a compromise between the rising\nmiddle-class and the ex-feudal landowners. The latter, though called,\nas now, the aristocracy, had been long since on the way which led them\nto become what Louis Philippe in France became at a much later period,\n\"the first bourgeois of the kingdom.\" Fortunately for England, the old\nfeudal barons had killed one another during the Wars of the Roses.\nTheir successors, though mostly scions of the old families, had been\nso much out of the direct line of descent that they constituted quite\na new body, with habits and tendencies far more bourgeois than feudal.\nThey fully understood the value of money, and at once began to\nincrease their rents by turning hundreds of small farmers out and\nreplacing them by sheep. Henry VIII., while squandering the Church\nlands, created fresh bourgeois landlords by wholesale; the innumerable\nconfiscations of estates, regranted to absolute or relative upstarts,\nand continued during the whole of the seventeenth century, had the\nsame result. Consequently, ever since Henry VII., the English\n\"aristocracy,\" far from counteracting the development of industrial\nproduction, had, on the contrary, sought to indirectly profit thereby;\nand there had always been a section of the great landowners willing,\nfrom economical or political reasons, to co-operate with the leading\nmen of the financial and industrial bourgeoisie. The compromise of\n1689 was, therefore, easily accomplished. The political spoils of\n\"pelf and place\" were left to the great land-owning families, provided\nthe economic interests of the financial, manufacturing, and commercial\nmiddle-class were sufficiently attended to. And these economic\ninterests were at that time powerful enough to determine the general\npolicy of the nation. There might be squabbles about matters of\ndetail, but, on the whole, the aristocratic oligarchy knew too well\nthat its own economic prosperity was irretrievably bound up with that\nof the industrial and commercial middle-class.\n\nFrom that time, the bourgeoisie was a humble, but still a recognized\ncomponent of the ruling classes of England. With the rest of them, it\nhad a common interest in keeping in subjection the great working mass\nof the nation. The merchant or manufacturer himself stood in the\nposition of master, or, as it was until lately called, of \"natural\nsuperior\" to his clerks, his workpeople, his domestic servants. His\ninterest was to get as much and as good work out of them as he could;\nfor this end they had to be trained to proper submission. He was\nhimself religious; his religion had supplied the standard under which\nhe had fought the king and the lords; he was not long in discovering\nthe opportunities this same religion offered him for working upon the\nminds of his natural inferiors, and making them submissive to the\nbehests of the masters it had pleased God to place over them. In\nshort, the English bourgeoisie now had to take a part in keeping down\nthe \"lower orders,\" the great producing mass of the nation, and one of\nthe means employed for that purpose was the influence of religion.\n\nThere was another fact that contributed to strengthen the religious\nleanings of the bourgeoisie. That was the rise of materialism in\nEngland. This new doctrine not only shocked the pious feelings of the\nmiddle-class; it announced itself as a philosophy only fit for\nscholars and cultivated men of the world, in contrast to religion\nwhich was good enough for the uneducated masses, including the\nbourgeoisie. With Hobbes it stepped on the stage as a defender of\nroyal prerogative and omnipotence; it called upon absolute monarchy to\nkeep down that _puer robustus sed malitiosus_, to wit, the people.\nSimilarly, with the successors of Hobbes, with Bolingbroke,\nShaftesbury, etc., the new deistic form of materialism remained an\naristocratic, esoteric doctrine, and, therefore, hateful to the\nmiddle-class both for its religious heresy and for its anti-bourgeois\npolitical connections. Accordingly, in opposition to the materialism\nand deism of the aristocracy, those Protestant sects which had\nfurnished the flag and the fighting contingent against the Stuarts,\ncontinued to furnish the main strength of the progressive\nmiddle-class, and form even to-day the backbone of \"the Great Liberal\nParty.\"\n\nIn the meantime materialism passed from England to France, where it\nmet and coalesced with another materialistic school of philosophers, a\nbranch of Cartesianism. In France, too, it remained at first an\nexclusively aristocratic doctrine. But soon its revolutionary\ncharacter asserted itself. The French materialists did not limit their\ncriticism to matters of religious belief; they extended it to whatever\nscientific tradition or political institution they met with; and to\nprove the claim of their doctrine to universal application, they took\nthe shortest cut, and boldly applied it to all subjects of knowledge\nin the giant work after which they were named--the _Encyclopedie_.\nThus, in one or the other of its two forms--avowed materialism or\ndeism--it became the creed of the whole cultured youth of France; so\nmuch so that, when the great Revolution broke out, the doctrine\nhatched by English Royalists gave a theoretical flag to French\nRepublicans and Terrorists, and furnished the text for the Declaration\nof the Rights of Man. The great French Revolution was the third\nuprising of the bourgeoisie, but the first that had entirely cast off\nthe religious cloak, and was fought out on undisguised political\nlines; it was the first, too, that was really fought out to the\ndestruction of one of the combatants, the aristocracy, and the\ncomplete triumph of the other, the bourgeoisie. In England the\ncontinuity of pre-revolutionary and post-revolutionary institutions,\nand the compromise between landlords and capitalists, found its\nexpression in the continuity of judicial precedents and in the\nreligious preservation of the feudal forms of the law. In France the\nRevolution constituted a complete breach with the traditions of the\npast; it cleared out the very last vestiges of feudalism, and created\nin the _Code Civil_ a masterly adaptation of the old Roman law--that\nalmost perfect expression of the juridical relations corresponding to\nthe economic stage called by Marx the production of commodities--to\nmodern capitalistic conditions; so masterly that this French\nrevolutionary code still serves as a model for reforms of the law of\nproperty in all other countries, not excepting England. Let us,\nhowever, not forget that if English law continues to express the\neconomic relations of capitalistic society in that barbarous feudal\nlanguage which corresponds to the thing expressed, just as English\nspelling corresponds to English pronunciation--_vous ecrivez Londres\net vous prononcez Constantinople_, said a Frenchman--that same English\nlaw is the only one which has preserved through ages, and transmitted\nto America and the Colonies the best part of that old Germanic\npersonal freedom, local self-government, and independence from all\ninterference but that of the law courts, which on the Continent has\nbeen lost during the period of absolute monarchy, and has nowhere been\nas yet fully recovered.\n\nTo return to our British bourgeois. The French Revolution gave him a\nsplendid opportunity, with the help of the Continental monarchies, to\ndestroy French maritime commerce, to annex French colonies, and to\ncrush the last French pretensions to maritime rivalry. That was one\nreason why he fought it. Another was that the ways of this revolution\nwent very much against his grain. Not only its \"execrable\" terrorism,\nbut the very attempt to carry bourgeois rule to extremes. What should\nthe British bourgeois do without his aristocracy, that taught him\nmanners, such as they were, and invented fashions for him--that\nfurnished officers for the army, which kept order at home, and the\nnavy, which conquered colonial possessions and new markets abroad?\nThere was indeed a progressive minority of the bourgeoisie, that\nminority whose interests were not so well attended to under the\ncompromise; this section, composed chiefly of the less wealthy\nmiddle-class, did sympathize with the Revolution, but it was powerless\nin Parliament.\n\nThus, if materialism became the creed of the French Revolution, the\nGod-fearing English bourgeois held all the faster to his religion. Had\nnot the reign of terror in Paris proved what was the upshot, if the\nreligious instincts of the masses were lost? The more materialism\nspread from France to neighboring countries, and was reinforced by\nsimilar doctrinal currents, notably by German philosophy, the more, in\nfact, materialism and freethought generally became, on the Continent,\nthe necessary qualifications of a cultivated man, the more stubbornly\nthe English middle-class stuck to its manifold religious creeds. These\ncreeds might differ from one another, but they were, all of them,\ndistinctly religious, Christian creeds.\n\nWhile the Revolution ensured the political triumph of the bourgeoisie\nin France, in England Watt, Arkwright, Cartwright, and others,\ninitiated an industrial revolution, which completely shifted the\ncenter of gravity of economic power. The wealth of the bourgeoisie\nincreased considerably faster than that of the landed aristocracy.\nWithin the bourgeoisie itself, the financial aristocracy, the bankers,\netc., were more and more pushed into the background by the\nmanufacturers. The compromise of 1689, even after the gradual changes\nit had undergone in favor of the bourgeoisie, no longer corresponded\nto the relative position of the parties to it. The character of these\nparties, too, had changed; the bourgeoisie of 1830 was very different\nfrom that of the preceding century. The political power still left to\nthe aristocracy, and used by them to resist the pretensions of the new\nindustrial bourgeoisie, became incompatible with the new economic\ninterests. A fresh struggle with the aristocracy was necessary; it\ncould end only in a victory of the new economic power. First, the\nReform Act was pushed through, in spite of all resistance, under the\nimpulse of the French Revolution of 1830. It gave to the bourgeoisie a\nrecognized and powerful place in Parliament. Then the Repeal of the\nCorn Laws, which settled, once for all, the supremacy of the\nbourgeoisie, and especially of its most active portion, the\nmanufacturers, over the landed aristocracy. This was the greatest\nvictory of the bourgeoisie; it was, however, also the last it gained\nin its own, exclusive interest. Whatever triumphs it obtained later\non, it had to share with a new social power, first its ally, but soon\nits rival.\n\nThe industrial revolution had created a class of large manufacturing\ncapitalists, but also a class--and a far more numerous one--of\nmanufacturing work-people. This class gradually increased in numbers,\nin proportion as the industrial revolution seized upon one branch of\nmanufacture after another, and in the same proportion it increased in\npower. This power it proved as early as 1824, by forcing a reluctant\nParliament to repeal the acts forbidding combinations of workmen.\nDuring the Reform agitation, the working-men constituted the Radical\nwing of the Reform party; the Act of 1832 having excluded them from\nthe suffrage, they formulated their demands in the People's Charter,\nand constituted themselves, in opposition to the great bourgeois\nAnti-Corn Law party, into an independent party, the Chartists, the\nfirst working-men's party of modern times.\n\nThen came the Continental revolutions of February and March, 1848, in\nwhich the working people played such a prominent part, and, at least\nin Paris, put forward demands which were certainly inadmissible from\nthe point of view of capitalistic society. And then came the general\nreaction. First the defeat of the Chartists on the 10th April, 1848,\nthen the crushing of the Paris working-men's insurrection in June of\nthe same year, then the disasters of 1849 in Italy, Hungary, South\nGermany, and at last the victory of Louis Bonaparte over Paris, 2nd\nDecember, 1851. For a time, at least, the bugbear of working-class\npretensions was put down, but at what cost! If the British bourgeois\nhad been convinced before of the necessity of maintaining the common\npeople in a religious mood, how much more must he feel that necessity\nafter all these experiences? Regardless of the sneers of his\nContinental compeers, he continued to spend thousands and tens of\nthousands, year after year, upon the evangelization of the lower\norders; not content with his own native religious machinery, he\nappealed to Brother Jonathan, the greatest organizer in existence of\nreligion as a trade, and imported from America revivalism, Moody and\nSankey, and the like; and, finally, he accepted the dangerous aid of\nthe Salvation Army, which revives the propaganda of early\nChristianity, appeals to the poor as the elect, fights capitalism in a\nreligious way, and thus fosters an element of early Christian class\nantagonism, which one day may become troublesome to the well-to-do\npeople who now find the ready money for it.\n\nIt seems a law of historical development that the bourgeoisie can in\nno European country get hold of political power--at least for any\nlength of time--in the same exclusive way in which the feudal\naristocracy kept hold of it during the Middle Ages. Even in France,\nwhere feudalism was completely extinguished, the bourgeoisie, as a\nwhole, has held full possession of the Government for very short\nperiods only. During Louis Philippe's reign, 1830-48, a very small\nportion of the bourgeoisie ruled the kingdom; by far the larger part\nwere excluded from the suffrage by the high qualification. Under the\nsecond Republic, 1848-51, the whole bourgeoisie ruled, but for three\nyears only; their incapacity brought on the second Empire. It is only\nnow, in the third Republic, that the bourgeoisie as a whole have kept\npossession of the helm for more than twenty years; and they are\nalready showing lively signs of decadence. A durable reign of the\nbourgeoisie has been possible only in countries like America, where\nfeudalism was unknown, and society at the very beginning started from\na bourgeois basis. And even in France and America, the successors of\nthe bourgeoisie, the working people, are already knocking at the door.\n\nIn England, the bourgeoisie never held undivided sway. Even the\nvictory of 1832 left the landed aristocracy in almost exclusive\npossession of all the leading Government offices. The meekness with\nwhich the wealthy middle-class submitted to this, remained\ninconceivable to me until the great Liberal manufacturer, Mr. W.A.\nForster, in a public speech implored the young men of Bradford to\nlearn French, as a means to get on in the world, and quoted from his\nown experience how sheepish he looked when, as a Cabinet Minister, he\nhad to move in society where French was, at least, as necessary as\nEnglish! The fact was, the English middle-class of that time were, as\na rule, quite uneducated upstarts, and could not help leaving to the\naristocracy those superior Government places where other\nqualifications were required than mere insular narrowness and insular\nconceit, seasoned by business sharpness.[C] Even now the endless\nnewspaper debates about middle-class education show that the English\nmiddle-class does not yet consider itself good enough for the best\neducation, and looks to something more modest. Thus, even after the\nRepeal of the Corn Laws, it appeared a matter of course, that the men\nwho had carried the day, the Cobdens, Brights, Forsters, etc., should\nremain excluded from a share in the official government of the\ncountry, until twenty years afterwards, a new Reform Act opened to\nthem the door of the Cabinet. The English bourgeoisie are, up to the\npresent day, so deeply penetrated by a sense of their social\ninferiority that they keep up, at their own expense and that of the\nnation, an ornamental caste of drones to represent the nation worthily\nat all State functions; and they consider themselves highly honored\nwhenever one of themselves is found worthy of admission into this\nselect and privileged body, manufactured, after all, by themselves.\n\nThe industrial and commercial middle-class had, therefore, not yet\nsucceeded in driving the landed aristocracy completely from political\npower when another competitor, the working-class, appeared on the\nstage. The reaction after the Chartist movement and the Continental\nrevolutions, as well as the unparalleled extension of English trade\nfrom 1848-1866, (ascribed vulgarly to Free Trade alone, but due far\nmore to the colossal development of railways, ocean steamers, and\nmeans of intercourse generally), had again driven the working-class\ninto the dependency of the Liberal party, of which they formed, as in\npre-Chartist times, the Radical wing. Their claims to the franchise,\nhowever, gradually became irresistible; while the Whig leaders of the\nLiberals \"funked,\" Disraeli showed his superiority by making the\nTories seize the favorable moment and introduce household suffrage in\nthe boroughs, along with a redistribution of seats. Then followed the\nballot; then in 1884 the extension of household suffrage to the\ncounties and a fresh redistribution of seats, by which electoral\ndistricts were to some extent equalized. All these measures\nconsiderably increased the electoral power of the working-class, so\nmuch so that in at least 150 to 200 constituencies that class now\nfurnishes the majority of voters. But parliamentary government is a\ncapital school for teaching respect for tradition; if the middle-class\nlook with awe and veneration upon what Lord John Manners playfully\ncalled \"our old nobility,\" the mass of the working-people then looked\nup with respect and deference to what used to be designated as \"their\nbetters,\" the middle-class. Indeed, the British workman, some fifteen\nyears ago, was the model workman, whose respectful regard for the\nposition of his master, and whose self-restraining modesty in claiming\nrights for himself, consoled our German economists of the\n_Katheder-Socialist_ school for the incurable communistic and\nrevolutionary tendencies of their own working-men at home.\n\nBut the English middle-class--the good men of business as they\nare--saw farther than the German professors. They had shared their\npower but reluctantly with the working-class. They had learnt, during\nthe Chartist years, what that _puer robustus sed malitiosus_, the\npeople, is capable of. And since that time, they had been compelled to\nincorporate the better part of the People's Charter in the Statutes\nof the United Kingdom. Now, if ever, the people must be kept in order\nby moral means, and the first and foremost of all moral means of\naction upon the masses is and remains--religion. Hence the parsons'\nmajorities on the School Boards, hence the increasing self-taxation of\nthe bourgeoisie for the support of all sorts of revivalism, from\nritualism to the Salvation Army.\n\nAnd now came the triumph of British respectability over the\nfreethought and religious laxity of the Continental bourgeois. The\nworkmen of France and Germany had become rebellious. They were\nthoroughly infected with socialism, and, for very good reasons, were\nnot at all particular as to the legality of the means by which to\nsecure their own ascendency. The _puer robustus_, here, turned from\nday to day more _malitiosus_. Nothing remained to the French and\nGerman bourgeoisie as a last resource but to silently drop their\nfreethought, as a youngster, when sea-sickness creeps upon him,\nquietly drops the burning cigar he brought swaggeringly on board; one\nby one, the scoffers turned pious in outward behavior, spoke with\nrespect of the Church, its dogmas and rites, and even conformed with\nthe latter as far as could not be helped. French bourgeoisie dined\n_maigre_ on Fridays, and German ones sat out long Protestant sermons\nin their pews on Sundays. They had come to grief with materialism.\n\"_Die Religion muss dem Volk erhalten werden_,\"--religion must be\nkept alive for the people--that was the only and the last means to\nsave society from utter ruin. Unfortunately for themselves, they did\nnot find this out until they had done their level best to break up\nreligion for ever. And now it was the turn of the British bourgeois to\nsneer and to say: \"Why, you fools, I could have told you that two\nhundred years ago!\"\n\nHowever, I am afraid neither the religious stolidity of the British,\nnor the _post festum_ conversion of the Continental bourgeois will\nstem the rising Proletarian tide. Tradition is a great retarding\nforce, is the _vis inertiae_ of history, but, being merely passive, is\nsure to be broken down; and thus religion will be no lasting safeguard\nto capitalist society. If our juridical, philosophical, and religious\nideas are the more or less remote offshoots of the economical\nrelations prevailing in a given society, such ideas cannot, in the\nlong run, withstand the effects of a complete change in these\nrelations. And, unless we believe in supernatural revelation, we must\nadmit that no religious tenets will ever suffice to prop up a\ntottering society.\n\nIn fact, in England, too, the working-people have begun to move again.\nThey are, no doubt, shackled by traditions of various kinds. Bourgeois\ntraditions, such as the widespread belief that there can be but two\nparties, Conservatives and Liberals, and that the working-class must\nwork out its salvation by and through the great Liberal party.\nWorking-men's traditions, inherited from their first tentative efforts\nat independent action, such as the exclusion, from ever so many old\nTrade Unions, of all applicants who have not gone through a regular\napprenticeship; which means the breeding, by every such union, of its\nown blacklegs. But for all that the English working-class is moving,\nas even Professor Brentano has sorrowfully had to report to his\nbrother Katheder-Socialists. It moves, like all things in England,\nwith a slow and measured step, with hesitation here, with more or less\nunfruitful, tentative attempts there; it moves now and then with an\nover-cautious mistrust of the name of Socialism, while it gradually\nabsorbs the substance; and the movement spreads and seizes one layer\nof the workers after another. It has now shaken out of their torpor\nthe unskilled laborers of the East End of London, and we all know what\na splendid impulse these fresh forces have given it in return. And if\nthe pace of the movement is not up to the impatience of some people,\nlet them not forget that it is the working-class which keeps alive the\nfinest qualities of the English character, and that, if a step in\nadvance is once gained in England, it is, as a rule, never lost\nafterwards. If the sons of the old Chartists, for reasons explained\nabove, were not quite up to the mark, the grandsons bid fair to be\nworthy of their forefathers.\n\nBut the triumph of the European working-class does not depend upon\nEngland alone. It can only be secured by the co-operation of, at\nleast, England, France, and Germany. In both the latter countries the\nworking-class movement is well ahead of England. In Germany it is even\nwithin measurable distance of success. The progress it has there made\nduring the last twenty-five years is unparalleled. It advances with\never-increasing velocity. If the German middle-class have shown\nthemselves lamentably deficient in political capacity, discipline,\ncourage, energy, and perseverance, the German working-class have given\nample proof of all these qualities. Four hundred years ago, Germany\nwas the starting-point of the first upheaval of the European\nmiddle-class; as things are now, is it outside the limits of\npossibility that Germany will be the scene, too, of the first great\nvictory of the European proletariat?\n\n                                                       F. ENGELS.\n\n  _April 20th, 1892._\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[A] \"Qual\" is a philosophical play upon words. Qual literally means\ntorture, a pain which drives to action of some kind; at the same time\nthe mystic Boehme puts into the German word something of the meaning of\nthe Latin _qualitas_; his \"qual\" was the activating principle arising\nfrom, and promoting in its turn, the spontaneous development of the\nthing, relation, or person subject to it, in contradistinction to a\npain inflicted from without.\n\n[B] Marx and Engels, \"Die Heilige Familie,\" Frankfurt a. M. 1845, pp.\n201-204.\n\n[C] And even in business matters, the conceit of national Chauvinism\nis but a sorry adviser. Up to quite recently, the average English\nmanufacturer considered it derogatory from an Englishman to speak any\nlanguage but his own, and felt rather proud than otherwise of the fact\nthat \"poor devils\" of foreigners settled in England and took off his\nhands the trouble of disposing of his products abroad. He never\nnoticed that these foreigners, mostly Germans, thus got command of a\nvery large part of British foreign trade, imports and exports, and\nthat the direct foreign trade of Englishmen became limited, almost\nentirely, to the colonies, China, the United States, and South\nAmerica. Nor did he notice that these Germans traded with other\nGermans abroad, who gradually organized a complete network of\ncommercial colonies all over the world. But when Germany, about forty\nyears ago, seriously began manufacturing for export, this network\nserved her admirably in her transformation, in so short a time, from a\ncorn-exporting into a first-rate manufacturing country. Then, about\nten years ago, the British manufacturer got frightened, and asked his\nambassadors and consuls how it was that he could no longer keep his\ncustomers together. The unanimous answer was: (1) You don't learn your\ncustomer's language but expect him to speak your own; (2) You don't\neven try to suit your customer's wants, habits, and tastes, but expect\nhim to conform to your English ones.\n\n\n\n\nSOCIALISM\n\nUTOPIAN AND SCIENTIFIC\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\nModern Socialism is, in its essence, the direct product of the\nrecognition, on the one hand, of the class antagonisms, existing in\nthe society of to-day, between proprietors and non-proprietors,\nbetween capitalists and wage-workers; on the other hand, of the\nanarchy existing in production. But, in its theoretical form, modern\nSocialism originally appears ostensibly as a more logical extension of\nthe principles laid down by the great French philosophers of the\neighteenth century. Like every new theory, modern Socialism had, at\nfirst, to connect itself with the intellectual stock-in-trade ready to\nits hand, however deeply its roots lay in material economic facts.\n\nThe great men, who in France prepared men's minds for the coming\nrevolution, were themselves extreme revolutionists. They recognized no\nexternal authority of any kind whatever. Religion, natural science,\nsociety, political institutions, everything, was subjected to the most\nunsparing criticism; everything must justify its existence before the\njudgment-seat of reason, or give up existence. Reason became the sole\nmeasure of everything. It was the time when, as Hegel says, the world\nstood upon its head;[1] first, in the sense that the human head, and\nthe principles arrived at by its thought, claimed to be the basis of\nall human action and association; but by and by, also, in the wider\nsense that the reality which was in contradiction to these principles\nhad, in fact, to be turned upside down. Every form of society and\ngovernment then existing, every old traditional notion was flung into\nthe lumber-room as irrational: the world had hitherto allowed itself\nto be led solely by prejudices; everything in the past deserved only\npity and contempt. Now, for the first time, appeared the light of day,\nthe kingdom of reason; henceforth superstition, injustice, privilege,\noppression, were to be superseded by eternal truth, eternal Right,\nequality based on Nature and the inalienable rights of man.\n\nWe know to-day that this kingdom of reason was nothing more than the\nidealized kingdom of the bourgeoisie; that this eternal Right found\nits realization in bourgeois justice; that this equality reduced\nitself to bourgeois equality before the law; that bourgeois property\nwas proclaimed as one of the essential rights of man; and that the\ngovernment of reason, the Contrat Social of Rousseau, came into\nbeing, and only could come into being, as a democratic bourgeois\nrepublic. The great thinkers of the eighteenth century could, no more\nthan their predecessors, go beyond the limits imposed upon them by\ntheir epoch.\n\nBut, side by side with the antagonism of the feudal nobility and the\nburghers, who claimed to represent all the rest of society, was the\ngeneral antagonism of exploiters and exploited, of rich idlers and\npoor workers. It was this very circumstance that made it possible for\nthe representatives of the bourgeoisie to put themselves forward as\nrepresenting, not one special class, but the whole of suffering\nhumanity. Still further. From its origin, the bourgeoisie was saddled\nwith its antithesis: capitalists cannot exist without wage-workers,\nand, in the same proportion as the mediaeval burgher of the guild\ndeveloped into the modern bourgeois, the guild journeyman and the\nday-laborer, outside the guilds, developed into the proletarian. And\nalthough, upon the whole, the bourgeoisie, in their struggle with the\nnobility, could claim to represent at the same time the interests of\nthe different working-classes of that period, yet in every great\nbourgeois movement there were independent outbursts of that class\nwhich was the forerunner, more or less developed, of the modern\nproletariat. For example, at the time of the German reformation and\nthe peasants' war, the Anabaptists and Thomas Muenzer; in the great\nEnglish revolution, the Levellers; in the great French revolution,\nBaboeuf.\n\nThere were theoretical enunciations corresponding with these\nrevolutionary uprisings of a class not yet developed; in the sixteenth\nand seventeenth centuries, Utopian pictures of ideal social\nconditions; in the eighteenth, actual communistic theories (Morelly\nand Mably). The demand for equality was no longer limited to political\nrights; it was extended also to the social conditions of individuals.\nIt was not simply class privileges that were to be abolished, but\nclass distinctions themselves. A Communism, ascetic, denouncing all\nthe pleasures of life, Spartan, was the first form of the new\nteaching. Then came the three great Utopians; Saint Simon, to whom\nthe middle-class movement, side by side with the proletarian, still\nhad a certain significance; Fourier; and Owen, who in the country\nwhere capitalist production was most developed, and under the\ninfluence of the antagonisms begotten of this, worked out his\nproposals for the removal of class distinction systematically and in\ndirect relation to French materialism.\n\nOne thing is common to all three. Not one of them appears as a\nrepresentative of the interests of that proletariat, which historical\ndevelopment had, in the meantime, produced. Like the French\nphilosophers, they do not claim to emancipate a particular class to\nbegin with, but all humanity at once. Like them, they wish to bring in\nthe kingdom of reason and eternal justice, but this kingdom, as they\nsee it, is as far as heaven from earth, from that of the French\nphilosophers.\n\nFor, to our three social reformers, the bourgeois world, based upon\nthe principles of these philosophers, is quite as irrational and\nunjust, and, therefore, finds its way in the dust-hole quite as\nreadily as feudalism and all the earlier stages of society. If pure\nreason and justice have not, hitherto, ruled the world, this has been\nthe case only because men have not rightly understood them. What was\nwanted was the individual man of genius, who has now arisen and who\nunderstands the truth. That he has now arisen, that the truth has now\nbeen clearly understood, is not an inevitable event, following of\nnecessity in the chain of historical development, but a mere happy\naccident. He might just as well have been born 500 years earlier, and\nmight then have spared humanity 500 years of error, strife, and\nsuffering.\n\nWe saw how the French philosophers of the eighteenth century, the\nforerunners of the Revolution, appealed to reason as the sole judge of\nall that is. A rational government, rational society, were to be\nfounded; everything that ran counter to eternal reason was to be\nremorselessly done away with. We saw also that this eternal reason was\nin reality nothing but the idealized understanding of the eighteenth\ncentury citizen, just then evolving into the bourgeois. The French\nRevolution had realized this rational society and government.\n\nBut the new order of things, rational enough as compared with earlier\nconditions, turned out to be by no means absolutely rational. The\nState based upon reason completely collapsed. Rousseau's Contrat\nSocial had found its realization in the Reign of Terror, from which\nthe bourgeoisie, who had lost confidence in their own political\ncapacity, had taken refuge first in the corruption of the Directorate,\nand, finally, under the wing of the Napoleonic despotism. The promised\neternal peace was turned into an endless war of conquest. The society\nbased upon reason had fared no better. The antagonism between rich and\npoor, instead of dissolving into general prosperity, had become\nintensified by the removal of the guild and other privileges, which\nhad to some extent bridged it over, and by the removal of the\ncharitable institutions of the Church. The \"freedom of property\" from\nfeudal fetters, now veritably accomplished, turned out to be, for the\nsmall capitalists and small proprietors, the freedom to sell their\nsmall property, crushed under the overmastering competition of the\nlarge capitalists and landlords, to these great lords, and thus, as\nfar as the small capitalists and peasant proprietors were concerned,\nbecame \"freedom _from_ property.\" The development of industry upon a\ncapitalistic basis made poverty and misery of the working masses\nconditions of existence of society. Cash payment became more and more,\nin Carlyle's phrase, the sole nexus between man and man. The number of\ncrimes increased from year to year. Formerly, the feudal vices had\nopenly stalked about in broad daylight; though not eradicated, they\nwere now at any rate thrust into the background. In their stead, the\nbourgeois vices, hitherto practiced in secret, began to blossom all\nthe more luxuriantly. Trade became to a greater and greater extent\ncheating. The \"fraternity\" of the revolutionary motto was realized in\nthe chicanery and rivalries of the battle of competition. Oppression\nby force was replaced by corruption; the sword, as the first social\nlever, by gold. The right of the first night was transferred from the\nfeudal lords to the bourgeois manufacturers. Prostitution increased to\nan extent never heard of. Marriage itself remained, as before, the\nlegally recognized form, the official cloak of prostitution, and,\nmoreover, was supplemented by rich crops of adultery.\n\nIn a word, compared with the splendid promises of the philosophers,\nthe social and political institutions born of the \"triumph of reason\"\nwere bitterly disappointing caricatures. All that was wanting was the\nmen to formulate this disappointment, and they came with the turn of\nthe century. In 1802 Saint Simon's Geneva letters appeared; in 1808\nappeared Fourier's first work, although the groundwork of his theory\ndated from 1799; on January 1, 1800, Robert Owen undertook the\ndirection of New Lanark.\n\nAt this time, however, the capitalist mode of production, and with it\nthe antagonism between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat, was still\nvery incompletely developed. Modern Industry, which had just arisen\nin England, was still unknown in France. But Modern Industry\ndevelops, on the one hand, the conflicts which make absolutely\nnecessary a revolution in the mode of production, and the doing away\nwith its capitalistic character--conflicts not only between the\nclasses begotten of it, but also between the very productive forces\nand the forms of exchange created by it. And, on the other hand, it\ndevelops, in these very gigantic productive forces, the means of\nending these conflicts. If, therefore, about the year 1800, the\nconflicts arising from the new social order were only just beginning\nto take shape, this holds still more fully as to the means of ending\nthem. The \"have-nothing\" masses of Paris, during the Reign of Terror,\nwere able for a moment to gain the mastery, and thus to lead the\nbourgeois revolution to victory in spite of the bourgeoisie\nthemselves. But, in doing so, they only proved how impossible it was\nfor their domination to last under the conditions then obtaining. The\nproletariat, which then for the first time evolved itself from these\n\"have-nothing\" masses as the nucleus of a new class, as yet quite\nincapable of independent political action, appeared as an oppressed,\nsuffering order, to whom, in its incapacity to help itself, help\ncould, at best, be brought in from without, or down from above.\n\nThis historical situation also dominated the founders of Socialism. To\nthe crude conditions of capitalistic production and the crude class\nconditions corresponded crude theories. The solution of the social\nproblems, which as yet lay hidden in undeveloped economic conditions,\nthe Utopians attempted to evolve out of the human brain. Society\npresented nothing but wrongs; to remove these was the task of reason.\nIt was necessary, then, to discover a new and more perfect system of\nsocial order and to impose this upon society from without by\npropaganda, and, wherever it was possible, by the example of model\nexperiments. These new social systems were foredoomed as Utopian; the\nmore completely they were worked out in detail, the more they could\nnot avoid drifting off into pure phantasies.\n\nThese facts once established, we need not dwell a moment longer upon\nthis side of the question, now wholly belonging to the past. We can\nleave it to the literary small fry to solemnly quibble over these\nphantasies, which to-day only make us smile, and to crow over the\nsuperiority of their own bald reasoning, as compared with such\n\"insanity.\" For ourselves, we delight in the stupendously grand\nthoughts and germs of thought that everywhere break out through their\nphantastic covering, and to which these Philistines are blind.\n\nSaint Simon was a son of the great French Revolution, at the outbreak\nof which he was not yet thirty. The Revolution was the victory of the\nthird estate, _i.e._, of the great masses of the nation, _working_ in\nproduction and in trade, over the privileged _idle_ classes, the\nnobles and the priests. But the victory of the third estate soon\nrevealed itself as exclusively the victory of a small part of this\n\"estate,\" as the conquest of political power by the socially\nprivileged section of it, _i.e._, the propertied bourgeoisie. And the\nbourgeoisie had certainly developed rapidly during the Revolution,\npartly by speculation in the lands of the nobility and of the Church,\nconfiscated and afterwards put up for sale, and partly by frauds upon\nthe nation by means of army contracts. It was the domination of these\nswindlers that, under the Directorate, brought France to the verge of\nruin, and thus gave Napoleon the pretext for his _coup-d'etat_.\n\nHence, to Saint Simon the antagonism between the third estate and the\nprivileged classes took the form of an antagonism between \"workers\"\nand \"idlers.\" The idlers were not merely the old privileged classes,\nbut also all who, without taking any part in production or\ndistribution, lived on their incomes. And the workers were not only\nthe wage-workers, but also the manufacturers, the merchants, the\nbankers. That the idlers had lost the capacity for intellectual\nleadership and political supremacy had been proved, and was by the\nRevolution finally settled. That the non-possessing classes had not\nthis capacity seemed to Saint Simon proved by the experiences of the\nReign of Terror. Then, who was to lead and command? According to\nSaint Simon, science and industry, both united by a new religious\nbond, destined to restore that unity of religious ideas which had been\nlost since the time of the Reformation--a necessarily mystic and\nrigidly hierarchic \"new Christianity.\" But science, that was the\nscholars; and industry, that was in the first place, the working\nbourgeois, manufacturers, merchants, bankers. These bourgeoisie were\ncertainly, intended by Saint Simon to transform themselves into a kind\nof public officials, of social trustees; but they were still to hold,\n_vis-a-vis_ of the workers, a commanding and economically privileged\nposition. The bankers especially were to be called upon to direct the\nwhole of social production by the regulation of credit. This\nconception was in exact keeping with a time in which Modern Industry\nin France and, with it, the chasm between bourgeoisie and proletariat\nwas only just coming into existence. But what Saint Simon especially\nlays stress upon is this: what interests him first, and above all\nother things, is the lot of the class that is the most numerous and\nthe most poor (\"_la classe la plus nombreuse et la plus pauvre_\").\n\nAlready, in his Geneva letters, Saint Simon lays down the proposition\nthat \"all men ought to work.\" In the same work he recognizes also that\nthe Reign of Terror was the reign of the non-possessing masses. \"See,\"\nsays he to them, \"what happened in France at the time when your\ncomrades held sway there; they brought about a famine.\" But to\nrecognize the French Revolution as a class war, and not simply one\nbetween nobility and bourgeoisie, but between nobility, bourgeoisie,\nand the non-possessers, was, in the year 1802, a most pregnant\ndiscovery. In 1816, he declares that politics is the science of\nproduction, and foretells the complete absorption of politics by\neconomics. The knowledge that economic conditions are the basis of\npolitical institutions appears here only in embryo. Yet what is here\nalready very plainly expressed is the idea of the future conversion of\npolitical rule over men into an administration of things and a\ndirection of processes of production--that is to say, the \"abolition\nof the State,\" about which recently there has been so much noise.\n\nSaint Simon shows the same superiority over his contemporaries, when\nin 1814, immediately after the entry of the allies into Paris, and\nagain in 1815, during the Hundred Days' War, he proclaims the alliance\nof France with England, and then of both these countries with Germany,\nas the only guarantee for the prosperous development and peace of\nEurope. To preach to the French in 1815 an alliance with the victors\nof Waterloo required as much courage as historical foresight.\n\nIf in Saint Simon we find a comprehensive breadth of view, by virtue\nof which almost all the ideas of later Socialists, that are not\nstrictly economic, are found in him in embryo, we find in Fourier a\ncriticism of the existing conditions of society genuinely French and\nwitty, but not upon that account any the less thorough. Fourier takes\nthe bourgeoisie, their inspired prophets before the Revolution, and\ntheir interested eulogists after it, at their own word. He lays bare\nremorsely the material and moral misery of the bourgeois world. He\nconfronts it with the earlier philosophers' dazzling promises of a\nsociety in which reason alone should reign, of a civilization in which\nhappiness should be universal, of an illimitable human perfectibility,\nand with the rose-colored phraseology of the bourgeois ideologists of\nhis time. He points out how everywhere the most pitiful reality\ncorresponds with the most high-sounding phrases, and he overwhelms\nthis hopeless fiasco of phrases with his mordant sarcasm.\n\nFourier is not only a critic; his imperturbably serene nature makes\nhim a satirist, and assuredly one of the greatest satirists of all\ntime. He depicts, with equal power and charm, the swindling\nspeculations that blossomed out upon the downfall of the Revolution,\nand the shopkeeping spirit prevalent in, and characteristic of, French\ncommerce at that time. Still more masterly is his criticism of the\nbourgeois form of the relations between the sexes, and the position of\nwoman in bourgeois society. He was the first to declare that in any\ngiven society the degree of woman's emancipation is the natural\nmeasure of the general emancipation.\n\nBut Fourier is at his greatest in his conception of the history of\nsociety. He divides its whole course, thus far, into four stages of\nevolution--savagery, barbarism, the patriarchate, civilization. This\nlast is identical with the so-called civil, or bourgeois, society of\nto-day--_i.e._, with the social order that came in with the sixteenth\ncentury. He proves \"that the civilized stage raises every vice\npracticed by barbarism in a simple fashion, into a form of existence,\ncomplex, ambiguous, equivocal, hypocritical\"--that civilization moves\nin \"a vicious circle,\" in contradictions which it constantly\nreproduces without being able to solve them; hence it constantly\narrives at the very opposite to that which it wants to attain, or\npretends to want to attain, so that, _e.g._, \"under civilization\npoverty is born of superabundance itself.\"\n\nFourier, as we see, uses the dialectic method in the same masterly way\nas his contemporary Hegel. Using these same dialectics, he argues,\nagainst the talk about illimitable human perfectibility that every\nhistorical phase has its period of ascent and also its period of\ndescent, and he applies this observation to the future of the whole\nhuman race. As Kant introduced into natural science the idea of the\nultimate destruction of the earth, Fourier introduced into historical\nscience that of the ultimate destruction of the human race.\n\nWhilst in France the hurricane of the Revolution swept over the land,\nin England a quieter, but not on that account less tremendous,\nrevolution was going on. Steam and the new tool-making machinery were\ntransforming manufacture into modern industry, and thus\nrevolutionizing the whole foundation of bourgeois society. The\nsluggish march of development of the manufacturing period changed into\na veritable storm and stress period of production. With constantly\nincreasing swiftness the splitting-up of society into large\ncapitalists and non-possessing proletarians went on. Between these,\ninstead of the former stable middle-class, an unstable mass of\nartisans and small shopkeepers, the most fluctuating portion of the\npopulation, now led a precarious existence.\n\nThe new mode of production was, as yet, only at the beginning of its\nperiod of ascent; as yet it was the normal, regular method of\nproduction--the only one possible under existing conditions.\nNevertheless, even then it was producing crying social abuses--the\nherding together of a homeless population in the worst quarters of the\nlarge towns; the loosening of all traditional moral bonds, of\npatriarchal subordination, of family relations; overwork, especially\nof women and children, to a frightful extent; complete demoralization\nof the working-class, suddenly flung into altogether new conditions,\nfrom the country into the town, from agriculture into modern industry,\nfrom stable conditions of existence into insecure ones that changed\nfrom day to day.\n\nAt this juncture there came forward as a reformer a manufacturer 29\nyears old--a man of almost sublime, childlike simplicity of character,\nand at the same time one of the few born leaders of men. Robert Owen\nhad adopted the teaching of the materialistic philosophers: that\nman's character is the product, on the one hand, of heredity, on the\nother, of the environment of the individual during his lifetime, and\nespecially during his period of development. In the industrial\nrevolution most of his class saw only chaos and confusion, and the\nopportunity of fishing in these troubled waters and making large\nfortunes quickly. He saw in it the opportunity of putting into\npractice his favorite theory, and so of bringing order out of chaos.\nHe had already tried it with success, as superintendent of more than\nfive hundred men in a Manchester factory. From 1800 to 1829, he\ndirected the great cotton mill at New Lanark, in Scotland, as managing\npartner, along the same lines, but with greater freedom of action and\nwith a success that made him a European reputation. A population,\noriginally consisting of the most diverse and, for the most part, very\ndemoralized elements, a population that gradually grew to 2,500, he\nturned into a model colony, in which drunkenness, police, magistrates,\nlawsuits, poor laws, charity, were unknown. And all this simply by\nplacing the people in conditions worthy of human beings, and\nespecially by carefully bringing up the rising generation. He was the\nfounder of infant schools, and introduced them first at New Lanark. At\nthe age of two the children came to school, where they enjoyed\nthemselves so much that they could scarcely be got home again. Whilst\nhis competitors worked their people thirteen or fourteen hours a day,\nin New Lanark the working-day was only ten and a half hours. When a\ncrisis in cotton stopped work for four months, his workers received\ntheir full wages all the time. And with all this the business more\nthan doubled in value, and to the last yielded large profits to its\nproprietors.\n\nIn spite of all this, Owen was not content. The existence which he\nsecured for his workers was, in his eyes, still far from being worthy\nof human beings. \"The people were slaves at my mercy.\" The relatively\nfavorable conditions in which he had placed them were still far from\nallowing a rational development of the character and of the intellect\nin all directions, much less of the free exercise of all their\nfaculties. \"And yet, the working part of this population of 2,500\npersons was daily producing as much real wealth for society as, less\nthan half a century before, it would have required the working part of\na population of 600,000 to create. I asked myself, what became of the\ndifference between the wealth consumed by 2,500 persons and that which\nwould have been consumed by 600,000?\"[2]\n\nThe answer was clear. It had been used to pay the proprietors of the\nestablishment 5 per cent. on the capital they had laid out, in\naddition to over L300,000 clear profit. And that which held for New\nLanark held to a still greater extent for all the factories in\nEngland. \"If this new wealth had not been created by machinery,\nimperfectly as it has been applied, the wars of Europe, in opposition\nto Napoleon, and to support the aristocratic principles of society,\ncould not have been maintained. And yet this new power was the\ncreation of the working-classes.\"[3] To them, therefore, the fruits of\nthis new power belonged. The newly-created gigantic productive forces,\nhitherto used only to enrich individuals and to enslave the masses,\noffered to Owen the foundations for a reconstruction of society; they\nwere destined, as the common property of all, to be worked for the\ncommon good of all.\n\nOwen's Communism was based upon this purely business foundation, the\noutcome, so to say, of commercial calculation. Throughout, it\nmaintained this practical character. Thus, in 1823, Owen proposed the\nrelief of the distress in Ireland by Communist colonies, and drew up\ncomplete estimates of costs of founding them, yearly expenditure, and\nprobable revenue. And in his definite plan for the future, the\ntechnical working out of details is managed with such practical\nknowledge--ground plan, front and side and bird's-eye views all\nincluded--that the Owen method of social reform once accepted, there\nis from the practical point of view little to be said against the\nactual arrangement of details.\n\nHis advance in the direction of Communism was the turning-point in\nOwen's life. As long as he was simply a philanthropist, he was\nrewarded with nothing but wealth, applause, honor, and glory. He was\nthe most popular man in Europe. Not only men of his own class, but\nstatesmen and princes listened to him approvingly. But when he came\nout with his Communist theories, that was quite another thing. Three\ngreat obstacles seemed to him especially to block the path to social\nreform: private property, religion, the present form of marriage. He\nknew what confronted him if he attacked these--outlawry,\nexcommunication from official society, the loss of his whole social\nposition. But nothing of this prevented him from attacking them\nwithout fear of consequences, and what he had foreseen happened.\nBanished from official society, with a conspiracy of silence against\nhim in the press, ruined by his unsuccessful Communist experiments in\nAmerica, in which he sacrificed all his fortune, he turned directly to\nthe working-class and continued working in their midst for thirty\nyears. Every social movement, every real advance in England on behalf\nof the workers links itself on to the name of Robert Owen. He forced\nthrough in 1819, after five years' fighting, the first law limiting\nthe hours of labor of women and children in factories. He was\npresident of the first Congress at which all the Trade Unions of\nEngland united in a single great trade association. He introduced as\ntransition measures to the complete communistic organization of\nsociety, on the one hand, cooperative societies for retail trade and\nproduction. These have since that time, at least, given practical\nproof that the merchant and the manufacturer are socially quite\nunnecessary. On the other hand, he introduced labor bazaars for the\nexchange of the products of labor through the medium of labor-notes,\nwhose unit was a single hour of work; institutions necessarily doomed\nto failure, but completely anticipating Proudhon's bank of exchange\nof a much later period, and differing entirely from this in that it\ndid not claim to be the panacea for all social ills, but only a first\nstep towards a much more radical revolution of society.\n\nThe Utopians' mode of thought has for a long time governed the\nsocialist ideas of the nineteenth century, and still governs some of\nthem. Until very recently all French and English Socialists did homage\nto it. The earlier German Communism, including that of Weitling, was\nof the same school. To all these Socialism is the expression of\nabsolute truth, reason, and justice, and has only to be discovered to\nconquer all the world by virtue of its own power. And as absolute\ntruth is independent of time, space, and of the historical development\nof man, it is a mere accident when and where it is discovered. With\nall this, absolute truth, reason, and justice are different with the\nfounder of each different school. And as each one's special kind of\nabsolute truth, reason, and justice is again conditioned by his\nsubjective understanding, his conditions of existence, the measure of\nhis knowledge and his intellectual training, there is no other ending\npossible in this conflict of absolute truths than that they shall be\nmutually exclusive one of the other. Hence, from this nothing could\ncome but a kind of eclectic, average Socialism, which, as a matter of\nfact, has up to the present time dominated the minds of most of the\nsocialist workers in France and England. Hence, a mish-mash allowing\nof the most manifold shades of opinion; a mish-mash of such critical\nstatements, economic theories, pictures of future society by the\nfounders of different sects, as excite a minimum of opposition; a\nmish-mash which is the more easily brewed the more the definite sharp\nedges of the individual constituents are rubbed down in the stream of\ndebate, like rounded pebbles in a brook.\n\nTo make a science of Socialism, it had first to be placed upon a real\nbasis.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] This is the passage on the French Revolution: \"Thought, the\nconcept of law, all at once made itself felt, and against this the old\nscaffolding of wrong could make no stand. In this conception of law,\ntherefore, a constitution has now been established, and henceforth\neverything must be based upon this. Since the sun had been in the\nfirmament, and the planets circled round him, the sight had never been\nseen of man standing upon his head--_i.e._, on the Idea--and building\nreality after this image. Anaxagoras first said that the Nous, reason,\nrules the world; but now, for the first time, had man come to\nrecognize that the Idea must rule the mental reality. And this was a\nmagnificent sunrise. All thinking Beings have participated in\ncelebrating this holy day. A sublime emotion swayed men at that time,\nan enthusiasm of reason pervaded the world, as if now had come the\nreconciliation of the Divine Principle with the world.\" [Hegel:\n\"Philosophy of History,\" 1840, p. 535.] Is it not high time to set the\nanti-Socialist law in action against such teachings, subversive and to\nthe common danger, by the late Professor Hegel?\n\n[2] From \"The Revolution in Mind and Practice,\" p. 21, a memorial\naddressed to all the \"red Republicans, Communists and Socialists of\nEurope,\" and sent to the provisional government of France, 1848, and\nalso \"to Queen Victoria and her responsible advisers.\"\n\n[3] Note, l. c., p. 70.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n\nIn the meantime, along with and after the French philosophy of the\neighteenth century had arisen the new German philosophy, culminating\nin Hegel. Its greatest merit was the taking up again of dialectics as\nthe highest form of reasoning. The old Greek philosophers were all\nborn natural dialecticians, and Aristotle, the most encyclopaedic\nintellect of them, had already analyzed the most essential forms of\ndialectic thought. The newer philosophy, on the other hand, although\nin it also dialectics had brilliant exponents (_e.g._ Descartes and\nSpinoza), had, especially through English influence, become more and\nmore rigidly fixed in the so-called metaphysical mode of reasoning, by\nwhich also the French of the eighteenth century were almost wholly\ndominated, at all events in their special philosophical work. Outside\nphilosophy in the restricted sense, the French nevertheless produced\nmasterpieces of dialectic. We need only call to mind Diderot's \"Le\nNeveu de Rameau,\" and Rousseau's \"Discours sur l'origine et les\nfondements de l'inegalite parmi les hommes.\" We give here, in brief,\nthe essential character of these two modes of thought.\n\nWhen we consider and reflect upon nature at large, or the history of\nmankind, or our own intellectual activity, at first we see the picture\nof an endless entanglement of relations and reactions, permutations\nand combinations, in which nothing remains what, where, and as it was,\nbut everything moves, changes, comes into being and passes away. We\nsee, therefore, at first the picture as a whole, with its individual\nparts still more or less kept in the background; we observe the\nmovements, transitions, connections, rather than the things that move,\ncombine, and are connected. This primitive, naive, but intrinsically\ncorrect conception of the world is that of ancient Greek philosophy,\nand was first clearly formulated by Heraclitus: everything is and is\nnot, for everything is fluid, is constantly changing, constantly\ncoming into being and passing away.\n\nBut this conception, correctly as it expresses the general character\nof the picture of appearances as a whole, does not suffice to explain\nthe details of which this picture is made up, and so long as we do not\nunderstand these, we have not a clear idea of the whole picture. In\norder to understand these details we must detach them from their\nnatural or historical connection and examine each one separately, its\nnature, special causes, effects, etc. This is, primarily, the task of\nnatural science and historical research; branches of science which the\nGreeks of classical times, on very good grounds, relegated to a\nsubordinate position, because they had first of all to collect\nmaterials for these sciences to work upon. A certain amount of natural\nand historical material must be collected before there can be any\ncritical analysis, comparison, and arrangement in classes, orders, and\nspecies. The foundations of the exact natural sciences were,\ntherefore, first worked out by the Greeks of the Alexandrian period,\nand later on, in the Middle Ages, by the Arabs. Real natural science\ndates from the second half of the fifteenth century, and thence onward\nit has advanced with constantly increasing rapidity. The analysis of\nNature into its individual parts, the grouping of the different\nnatural processes and objects in definite classes, the study of the\ninternal anatomy of organized bodies in their manifold forms--these\nwere the fundamental conditions of the gigantic strides in our\nknowledge of Nature that have been made during the last four hundred\nyears. But this method of work has also left us as legacy the habit of\nobserving natural objects and processes in isolation, apart from their\nconnection with the vast whole; of observing them in repose, not in\nmotion; as constants, not as essentially variables; in their death,\nnot in their life. And when this way of looking at things was\ntransferred by Bacon and Locke from natural science to philosophy, it\nbegot the narrow, metaphysical mode of thought peculiar to the last\ncentury.\n\nTo the metaphysician, things and their mental reflexes, ideas, are\nisolated, are to be considered one after the other and apart from\neach other, are objects of investigation fixed, rigid, given once for\nall. He thinks in absolutely irreconcilable antitheses. \"His\ncommunication is 'yea, yea; nay, nay;' for whatsoever is more than\nthese cometh of evil.\" For him a thing either exists or does not\nexist; a thing cannot at the same time be itself and something else.\nPositive and negative absolutely exclude one another; cause and effect\nstand in a rigid antithesis one to the other.\n\nAt first sight this mode of thinking seems to us very luminous,\nbecause it is that of so-called sound commonsense. Only sound\ncommonsense, respectable fellow that he is, in the homely realm of his\nown four walls, has very wonderful adventures directly he ventures out\ninto the wide world of research. And the metaphysical mode of thought,\njustifiable and necessary as it is in a number of domains whose extent\nvaries according to the nature of the particular object of\ninvestigation, sooner or later reaches a limit, beyond which it\nbecomes one-sided, restricted, abstract, lost in insoluble\ncontradictions. In the contemplation of individual things, it forgets\nthe connection between them; in the contemplation of their existence,\nit forgets the beginning and end of that existence; of their repose,\nit forgets their motion. It cannot see the wood for the trees.\n\nFor everyday purposes we know and can say _e.g._, whether an animal is\nalive or not. But, upon closer inquiry, we find that this is, in many\ncases, a very complex question, as the jurists know very well. They\nhave cudgelled their brains in vain to discover a rational limit\nbeyond which the killing of the child in its mother's womb is murder.\nIt is just as impossible to determine absolutely the moment of death,\nfor physiology proves that death is not an instantaneous, momentary\nphenomenon, but a very protracted process.\n\nIn like manner, every organized being is every moment the same and not\nthe same; every moment it assimilates matter supplied from without,\nand gets rid of other matter; every moment some cells of its body die\nand others build themselves anew; in a longer or shorter time the\nmatter of its body is completely renewed, and is replaced by other\nmolecules of matter, so that every organized being is always itself,\nand yet something other than itself.\n\nFurther, we find upon closer investigation that the two poles of an\nantithesis, positive and negative, _e.g._, are as inseparable as they\nare opposed, and that despite all their opposition, they mutually\ninterpenetrate. And we find, in like manner, that cause and effect are\nconceptions which only hold good in their application to individual\ncases; but as soon as we consider the individual cases in their\ngeneral connection with the universe as a whole, they run into each\nother, and they become confounded when we contemplate that universal\naction and reaction in which causes and effects are eternally changing\nplaces, so that what is effect here and now will be cause there and\nthen, and _vice versa_.\n\nNone of these processes and modes of thought enters into the framework\nof metaphysical reasoning. Dialectics, on the other hand, comprehends\nthings and their representations, ideas, in their essential\nconnection, concatenation, motion, origin, and ending. Such processes\nas those mentioned above are, therefore, so many corroborations of its\nown method of procedure.\n\nNature is the proof of dialectics, and it must be said for modern\nscience that it has furnished this proof with very rich materials\nincreasing daily, and thus has shown that, in the last resort, Nature\nworks dialectically and not metaphysically; that she does not move in\nthe eternal oneness of a perpetually recurring circle, but goes\nthrough a real historical evolution. In this connection Darwin must be\nnamed before all others. He dealt the metaphysical conception of\nNature the heaviest blow by his proof that all organic beings, plants,\nanimals, and man himself, are the products of a process of evolution\ngoing on through millions of years. But the naturalists who have\nlearned to think dialectically are few and far between, and this\nconflict of the results of discovery with preconceived modes of\nthinking explains the endless confusion now reigning in theoretical\nnatural science, the despair of teachers as well as learners, of\nauthors and readers alike.\n\nAn exact representation of the universe, of its evolution, of the\ndevelopment of mankind, and of the reflection of this evolution in the\nminds of men, can therefore only be obtained by the methods of\ndialectics with its constant regard to the innumerable actions and\nreactions of life and death, of progressive or retrogressive changes.\nAnd in this spirit the new German philosophy has worked. Kant began\nhis career by resolving the stable solar system of Newton and its\neternal duration, after the famous initial impulse had once been\ngiven, into the result of a historic process, the formation of the sun\nand all the planets out of a rotating nebulous mass. From this he at\nthe same time drew the conclusion that, given this origin of the solar\nsystem, its future death followed of necessity. His theory half a\ncentury later was established mathematically by Laplace, and half a\ncentury after that the spectroscope proved the existence in space of\nsuch incandescent masses of gas in various stages of condensation.\n\nThis new German philosophy culminated in the Hegelian system. In this\nsystem--and herein is its great merit--for the first time the whole\nworld, natural, historical, intellectual, is represented as a process,\n_i.e._, as in constant motion, change, transformation, development;\nand the attempt is made to trace out the internal connection that\nmakes a continuous whole of all this movement and development. From\nthis point of view the history of mankind no longer appeared as a wild\nwhirl of senseless deeds of violence, all equally condemnable at the\njudgment seat of mature philosophic reason, and which are best\nforgotten as quickly as possible; but as the process of evolution of\nman himself. It was now the task of the intellect to follow the\ngradual march of this process through all its devious ways, and to\ntrace out the inner law running through all its apparently accidental\nphenomena.\n\nThat the Hegelian system did not solve the problem it propounded is\nhere immaterial. Its epoch-making merit was that it propounded the\nproblem. This problem is one that no single individual will ever be\nable to solve. Although Hegel was--with Saint Simon--the most\nencyclopaedic mind of his time, yet he was limited, first, by the\nnecessarily limited extent of his own knowledge, and, second, by the\nlimited extent and depth of the knowledge and conceptions of his age.\nTo these limits a third must be added. Hegel was an idealist. To him\nthe thoughts within his brain were not the more or less abstract\npictures of actual things and processes, but, conversely, things and\ntheir evolution were only the realized pictures of the \"Idea,\"\nexisting somewhere from eternity before the world was. This way of\nthinking turned everything upside down, and completely reversed the\nactual connection of things in the world. Correctly and ingeniously as\nmany individual groups of facts were grasped by Hegel, yet, for the\nreasons just given, there is much that is botched, artificial,\nlabored, in a word, wrong in point of detail. The Hegelian system, in\nitself, was a colossal miscarriage--but it was also the last of its\nkind. It was suffering, in fact, from an internal and incurable\ncontradiction. Upon the one hand, its essential proposition was the\nconception that human history is a process of evolution, which, by its\nvery nature, cannot find its intellectual final term in the discovery\nof any so-called absolute truth. But, on the other hand, it laid claim\nto being the very essence of this absolute truth. A system of natural\nand historical knowledge, embracing everything, and final for all\ntime, is a contradiction to the fundamental law of dialectic\nreasoning. This law, indeed, by no means excludes, but, on the\ncontrary, includes the idea that the systematic knowledge of the\nexternal universe can make giant strides from age to age.\n\nThe perception of the fundamental contradiction in German idealism led\nnecessarily back to materialism, but _nota bene_, not to the simply\nmetaphysical, exclusively mechanical materialism of the eighteenth\ncentury. Old materialism looked upon all previous history as a crude\nheap of irrationality and violence; modern materialism sees in it the\nprocess of evolution of humanity, and aims at discovering the laws\nthereof. With the French of the eighteenth century, and even with\nHegel, the conception obtained of Nature as a whole, moving in narrow\ncircles, and forever immutable, with its eternal celestial bodies, as\nNewton, and unalterable organic species, as Linnaeus, taught. Modern\nmaterialism embraces the more recent discoveries of natural science,\naccording to which Nature also has its history in time, the celestial\nbodies, like the organic species that, under favorable conditions,\npeople them, being born and perishing. And even if Nature, as a whole,\nmust still be said to move in recurrent cycles, these cycles assume\ninfinitely larger dimensions. In both aspects, modern materialism is\nessentially dialectic, and no longer requires the assistance of that\nsort of philosophy which, queen-like, pretended to rule the remaining\nmob of sciences. As soon as each special science is bound to make\nclear its position in the great totality of things and of our\nknowledge of things, a special science dealing with this totality is\nsuperfluous or unnecessary. That which still survives of all earlier\nphilosophy is the science of thought and its laws--formal logic and\ndialectics. Everything else is subsumed in the positive science of\nNature and history.\n\nWhilst, however, the revolution in the conception of Nature could only\nbe made in proportion to the corresponding positive materials\nfurnished by research, already much earlier certain historical facts\nhad occurred which led to a decisive change in the conception of\nhistory. In 1831, the first working-class rising took place in Lyons;\nbetween 1838 and 1842, the first national working-class movement, that\nof the English Chartists, reached its height. The class struggle\nbetween proletariat and bourgeoisie came to the front in the history\nof the most advanced countries in Europe, in proportion to the\ndevelopment, upon the one hand, of modern industry, upon the other, of\nthe newly-acquired political supremacy of the bourgeoisie. Facts more\nand more strenuously gave the lie to the teachings of bourgeois\neconomy as to the identity of the interests of capital and labor, as\nto the universal harmony and universal prosperity that would be the\nconsequence of unbridled competition. All these things could no longer\nbe ignored, any more than the French and English Socialism, which was\ntheir theoretical, though very imperfect, expression. But the old\nidealist conception of history, which was not yet dislodged, knew\nnothing of class struggles based upon economic interests, knew nothing\nof economic interests; production and all economic relations appeared\nin it only as incidental, subordinate elements in the \"history of\ncivilization.\"\n\nThe new facts made imperative a new examination of all past history.\nThen it was seen that _all_ past history, with the exception of its\nprimitive stages, was the history of class struggles; that these\nwarring classes of society are always the products of the modes of\nproduction and of exchange--in a word, of the _economic_ conditions of\ntheir time; that the economic structure of society always furnishes\nthe real basis, starting from which we can alone work out the\nultimate explanation of the whole superstructure of juridical and\npolitical institutions as well as of the religious, philosophical, and\nother ideas of a given historical period. Hegel had freed history from\nmetaphysics--he had made it dialectic; but his conception of history\nwas essentially idealistic. But now idealism was driven from its last\nrefuge, the philosophy of history; now a materialistic treatment of\nhistory was propounded, and a method found of explaining man's\n\"knowing\" by his \"being,\" instead of, as heretofore, his \"being\" by\nhis \"knowing.\"\n\nFrom that time forward Socialism was no longer an accidental discovery\nof this or that ingenious brain, but the necessary outcome of the\nstruggle between two historically developed classes--the proletariat\nand the bourgeoisie. Its task was no longer to manufacture a system of\nsociety as perfect as possible, but to examine the historico-economic\nsuccession of events from which these classes and their antagonism had\nof necessity sprung, and to discover in the economic conditions thus\ncreated the means of ending the conflict. But the Socialism of earlier\ndays was as incompatible with this materialistic conception as the\nconception of Nature of the French materialists was with dialectics\nand modern natural science. The Socialism of earlier days certainly\ncriticised the existing capitalistic mode of production and its\nconsequences. But it could not explain them, and, therefore, could not\nget the mastery of them. It could only simply reject them as bad. The\nmore strongly this earlier Socialism denounced the exploitation of the\nworking-class, inevitable under Capitalism, the less able was it\nclearly to show in what this exploitation consisted and how it arose.\nBut for this it was necessary--(1) to present the capitalistic method\nof production in its historical connection and its inevitableness\nduring a particular historical period, and therefore, also, to present\nits inevitable downfall; and (2) to lay bare its essential character,\nwhich was still a secret. This was done by the discovery of\n_surplus-value_. It was shown that the appropriation of unpaid labor\nis the basis of the capitalist mode of production and of the\nexploitation of the worker that occurs under it; that even if the\ncapitalist buys the labor-power of his laborer at its full value as a\ncommodity on the market, he yet extracts more value from it than he\npaid for; and that in the ultimate analysis this surplus-value forms\nthose sums of value from which are heaped up the constantly increasing\nmasses of capital in the hands of the possessing classes. The genesis\nof capitalist production and the production of capital were both\nexplained.\n\nThese two great discoveries, the materialistic conception of history\nand the revelation of the secret of capitalistic production through\nsurplus-value, we owe to Marx. With these discoveries Socialism became\na science. The next thing was to work out all its details and\nrelations.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\nThe materialist conception of history starts from the proposition that\nthe production of the means to support human life and, next to\nproduction, the exchange of things produced, is the basis of all\nsocial structure; that in every society that has appeared in history,\nthe manner in which wealth is distributed and society divided into\nclasses or orders, is dependent upon what is produced, how it is\nproduced, and how the products are exchanged. From this point of view\nthe final causes of all social changes and political revolutions are\nto be sought, not in men's brains, not in man's better insight into\neternal truth and justice, but in changes in the modes of production\nand exchange. They are to be sought, not in the _philosophy_, but in\nthe _economics_ of each particular epoch. The growing perception that\nexisting social institutions are unreasonable and unjust, that reason\nhas become unreason, and right wrong, is only proof that in the modes\nof production and exchange changes have silently taken place, with\nwhich the social order, adapted to earlier economic conditions, is no\nlonger in keeping. From this it also follows that the means of getting\nrid of the incongruities that have been brought to light, must also be\npresent, in a more or less developed condition, within the changed\nmodes of production themselves. These means are not to be invented by\ndeduction from fundamental principles, but are to be discovered in the\nstubborn facts of the existing system of production.\n\nWhat is, then, the position of modern Socialism in this connection?\n\nThe present structure of society--this is now pretty generally\nconceded--is the creation of the ruling class of to-day, of the\nbourgeoisie. The mode of production peculiar to the bourgeoisie,\nknown, since Marx, as the capitalist mode of production, was\nincompatible with the feudal system, with the privileges it conferred\nupon individuals, entire social ranks and local corporations, as well\nas with the hereditary ties of subordination which constituted the\nframework of its social organization. The bourgeoisie broke up the\nfeudal system and built upon its ruins the capitalist order of\nsociety, the kingdom of free competition, of personal liberty, of the\nequality, before the law, of all commodity owners, of all the rest of\nthe capitalist blessings. Thenceforward the capitalist mode of\nproduction could develop in freedom. Since steam, machinery, and the\nmaking of machines by machinery transformed the older manufacture into\nmodern industry, the productive forces evolved under the guidance of\nthe bourgeoisie developed with a rapidity and in a degree unheard of\nbefore. But just as the older manufacture, in its time, and\nhandicraft, becoming more developed under its influence, had come into\ncollision with the feudal trammels of the guilds, so now modern\nindustry, in its more complete development, comes into collision with\nthe bounds within which the capitalistic mode of production holds it\nconfined. The new productive forces have already outgrown the\ncapitalistic mode of using them. And this conflict between productive\nforces and modes of production is not a conflict engendered in the\nmind of man, like that between original sin and divine justice. It\nexists, in fact, objectively, outside us, independently of the will\nand actions even of the men that have brought it on. Modern Socialism\nis nothing but the reflex, in thought, of this conflict in fact; its\nideal reflection in the minds, first, of the class directly suffering\nunder it, the working-class.\n\nNow, in what does this conflict consist?\n\nBefore capitalistic production, _i.e._, in the Middle Ages, the system\nof petty industry obtained generally, based upon the private property\nof the laborers in their means of production; in the country, the\nagriculture of the small peasant, freeman or serf; in the towns, the\nhandicrafts organized in guilds. The instruments of labor--land,\nagricultural implements, the workshop, the tool--were the instruments\nof labor of single individuals, adapted for the use of one worker,\nand, therefore, of necessity, small, dwarfish, circumscribed. But,\nfor this very reason they belonged, as a rule, to the producer\nhimself. To concentrate these scattered, limited means of production,\nto enlarge them, to turn them into the powerful levers of production\nof the present day--this was precisely the historic role of capitalist\nproduction and of its upholder, the bourgeoisie. In the fourth section\nof \"Capital\" Marx has explained in detail, how since the fifteenth\ncentury this has been historically worked out through the three phases\nof simple co-operation, manufacture, and modern industry. But the\nbourgeoisie, as is also shown there, could not transform these puny\nmeans of production into mighty productive forces, without\ntransforming them, at the same time, from means of production of the\nindividual into _social_ means of production only workable by a\ncollectivity of men. The spinning-wheel, the handloom, the\nblacksmith's hammer, were replaced by the spinning-machine, the\npower-loom, the steam-hammer; the individual workshop, by the factory\nimplying the co-operation of hundreds and thousands of workmen. In\nlike manner, production itself changed from a series of individual\ninto a series of social acts, and the products from individual to\nsocial products. The yarn, the cloth, the metal articles that now came\nout of the factory were the joint product of many workers through\nwhose hands they had successively to pass before they were ready. No\none person could say of them: \"I made that; this is _my_ product.\"\n\nBut where, in a given society, the fundamental form of production is\nthat spontaneous division of labor which creeps in gradually and not\nupon any preconceived plan, there the products take on the form of\n_commodities_, whose mutual exchange, buying and selling, enable the\nindividual producers to satisfy their manifold wants. And this was the\ncase in the Middle Ages. The peasant, _e.g._, sold to the artisan\nagricultural products and bought from him the products of handicraft.\nInto this society of individual producers, of commodity-producers, the\nnew mode of production thrust itself. In the midst of the old division\nof labor, grown up spontaneously and upon _no definite plan_, which\nhad governed the whole of society, now arose division of labor upon _a\ndefinite plan_, as organized in the factory; side by side with\n_individual_ production appeared _social_ production. The products of\nboth were sold in the same market, and, therefore, at prices at least\napproximately equal. But organization upon a definite plan was\nstronger than spontaneous division of labor. The factories working\nwith the combined social forces of a collectivity of individuals\nproduced their commodities far more cheaply than the individual small\nproducers. Individual production succumbed in one department after\nanother. Socialized production revolutionized all the old methods of\nproduction. But its revolutionary character was, at the same time, so\nlittle recognized, that it was, on the contrary, introduced as a means\nof increasing and developing the production of commodities. When it\narose, it found ready-made, and made liberal use of, certain machinery\nfor the production and exchange of commodities; merchants' capital,\nhandicraft, wage-labor. Socialized production thus introducing itself\nas a new form of the production of commodities, it was a matter of\ncourse that under it the old forms of appropriation remained in full\nswing, and were applied to its products as well.\n\nIn the mediaeval stage of evolution of the production of commodities,\nthe question as to the owner of the product of labor could not arise.\nThe individual producer, as a rule, had, from raw material belonging\nto himself, and generally his own handiwork, produced it with his own\ntools, by the labor of his own hands or of his family. There was no\nneed for him to appropriate the new product. It belonged wholly to\nhim, as a matter of course. His property in the product was,\ntherefore, based _upon his own labor_. Even where external help was\nused, this was, as a rule, of little importance, and very generally\nwas compensated by something other than wages. The apprentices and\njourneymen of the guilds worked less for board and wages than for\neducation, in order that they might become master craftsmen\nthemselves.\n\nThen came the concentration of the means of production and of the\nproducers in large workshops and manufactories, their transformation\ninto actual socialized means of production and socialized producers.\nBut the socialized producers and means of production and their\nproducts were still treated, after this change, just as they had been\nbefore, _i.e._, as the means of production and the products of\nindividuals. Hitherto, the owner of the instruments of labor had\nhimself appropriated the product, because, as a rule, it was his own\nproduct and the assistance of others was the exception. Now the owner\nof the instruments of labor always appropriated to himself the\nproduct, although it was no longer _his_ product but exclusively the\nproduct of the _labor of others_. Thus, the products now produced\nsocially were not appropriated by those who had actually set in motion\nthe means of production and actually produced the commodities, but by\nthe _capitalists_. The means of production, and production itself, had\nbecome in essence socialized. But they were subjected to a form of\nappropriation which presupposes the private production of individuals,\nunder which, therefore, every one owns his own product and brings it\nto market. The mode of production is subjected to this form of\nappropriation, although it abolishes the conditions upon which the\nlatter rests.[4]\n\nThis contradiction, which gives to the new mode of production its\ncapitalistic character, _contains the germ of the whole of the social\nantagonisms of to-day_. The greater the mastery obtained by the new\nmode of production over all important fields of production and in all\nmanufacturing countries, the more it reduced individual production to\nan insignificant residuum, _the more clearly was brought out the\nincompatibility of socialized production with capitalistic\nappropriation_.\n\nThe first capitalists found, as we have said, alongside of other forms\nof labor, wage-labor ready-made for them on the market. But it was\nexceptional, complementary, accessory, transitory wage-labor. The\nagricultural laborer, though, upon occasion, he hired himself out by\nthe day, had a few acres of his own land on which he could at all\nevents live at a pinch. The guilds were so organized that the\njourneyman of to-day became the master of to-morrow. But all this\nchanged, as soon as the means of production became socialized and\nconcentrated in the hands of capitalists. The means of production, as\nwell as the product of the individual producer became more and more\nworthless; there was nothing left for him but to turn wage-worker\nunder the capitalist. Wage-labor, aforetime the exception and\naccessory, now became the rule and basis of all production; aforetime\ncomplementary, it now became the sole remaining function of the\nworker. The wage-worker for a time became a wage-worker for life. The\nnumber of these permanent wage-workers was further enormously\nincreased by the breaking-up of the feudal system that occurred at the\nsame time, by the disbanding of the retainers of the feudal lords, the\neviction of the peasants from their homesteads, etc. The separation\nwas made complete between the means of production concentrated in the\nhands of the capitalists on the one side, and the producers,\npossessing nothing but their labor-power, on the other. _The\ncontradiction between socialized production and capitalistic\nappropriation manifested itself as the antagonism of proletariat and\nbourgeoisie._\n\nWe have seen that the capitalistic mode of production thrust its way\ninto a society of commodity-producers, of individual producers, whose\nsocial bond was the exchange of their products. But every society,\nbased upon the production of commodities, has this peculiarity: that\nthe producers have lost control over their own social inter-relations.\nEach man produces for himself with such means of production as he may\nhappen to have, and for such exchange as he may require to satisfy\nhis remaining wants. No one knows how much of his particular article\nis coming on the market, nor how much of it will be wanted. No one\nknows whether his individual product will meet an actual demand,\nwhether he will be able to make good his cost of production or even to\nsell his commodity at all. Anarchy reigns in socialized production.\n\nBut the production of commodities, like every other form of\nproduction, has its peculiar inherent laws inseparable from it; and\nthese laws work, despite anarchy, in and through anarchy. They reveal\nthemselves in the only persistent form of social inter-relations,\n_i.e._, in exchange, and here they affect the individual producers as\ncompulsory laws of competition. They are, at first, unknown to these\nproducers themselves, and have to be discovered by them gradually and\nas the result of experience. They work themselves out, therefore,\nindependently of the producers, and in antagonism to them, as\ninexorable natural laws of their particular form of production. The\nproduct governs the producers.\n\nIn mediaeval society especially in the earlier centuries, production\nwas essentially directed towards satisfying the wants of the\nindividual. It satisfied, in the main, only the wants of the producer\nand his family. Where relations of personal dependence existed, as in\nthe country, it also helped to satisfy the wants of the feudal lord.\nIn all this there was, therefore, no exchange; the products,\nconsequently, did not assume the character of commodities. The family\nof the peasant produced almost everything they wanted: clothes and\nfurniture, as well as means of subsistence. Only when it began to\nproduce more than was sufficient to supply its own wants and the\npayments in kind to the feudal lord, only then did it also produce\ncommodities. This surplus, thrown into socialized exchange and offered\nfor sale, became commodities.\n\nThe artisans of the towns, it is true, had from the first to produce\nfor exchange. But they, also, themselves supplied the greatest part\nof their own individual wants. They had gardens and plots of land.\nThey turned their cattle out into the communal forest, which, also,\nyielded them timber and firing. The women spun flax, wool, and so\nforth. Production for the purpose of exchange, production of\ncommodities, was only in its infancy. Hence, exchange was restricted,\nthe market narrow, the methods of production stable; there was local\nexclusiveness without, local unity within; the mark[5] in the country,\nin the town, the guild.\n\nBut with the extension of the production of commodities, and\nespecially with the introduction of the capitalist mode of production,\nthe laws of commodity-production, hitherto latent, came into action\nmore openly and with greater force. The old bonds were loosened, the\nold exclusive limits broken through, the producers were more and more\nturned into independent, isolated producers of commodities. It became\napparent that the production of society at large was ruled by absence\nof plan, by accident, by anarchy; and this anarchy grew to greater\nand greater height. But the chief means by aid of which the capitalist\nmode of production intensified this anarchy of socialized production,\nwas the exact opposite of anarchy. It was the increasing organization\nof production, upon a social basis, in every individual productive\nestablishment. By this, the old, peaceful, stable condition of things\nwas ended. Wherever this organization of production was introduced\ninto a branch of industry, it brooked no other method of production by\nits side. The field of labor became a battle-ground. The great\ngeographical discoveries, and the colonization following upon them,\nmultiplied markets and quickened the transformation of handicraft into\nmanufacture. The war did not simply break out between the individual\nproducers of particular localities. The local struggles begat in their\nturn national conflicts, the commercial wars of the seventeenth and\nthe eighteenth centuries.\n\nFinally, modern industry and the opening of the world-market made the\nstruggle universal, and at the same time gave it an unheard-of\nvirulence. Advantages in natural or artificial conditions of\nproduction now decide the existence or non-existence of individual\ncapitalists, as well as of whole industries and countries. He that\nfalls is remorselessly cast aside. It is the Darwinian struggle of the\nindividual for existence transferred from Nature to society with\nintensified violence. The conditions of existence natural to the\nanimal appear as the final term of human development. The\ncontradiction between socialized production and capitalistic\nappropriation now presents itself as _an antagonism between the\norganization of production in the individual workshop and the anarchy\nof production in society generally_.\n\nThe capitalistic mode of production moves in these two forms of the\nantagonism immanent to it from its very origin. It is never able to\nget out of that \"vicious circle,\" which Fourier had already\ndiscovered. What Fourier could not, indeed, see in his time is, that\nthis circle is gradually narrowing; that the movement becomes more and\nmore a spiral, and must come to an end, like the movement of the\nplanets, by collision with the center. It is the compelling force of\nanarchy in the production of society at large that more and more\ncompletely turns the great majority of men into proletarians; and it\nis the masses of the proletariat again who will finally put an end to\nanarchy in production. It is the compelling force of anarchy in social\nproduction that turns the limitless perfectibility of machinery under\nmodern industry into a compulsory law by which every individual\nindustrial capitalist must perfect his machinery more and more, under\npenalty of ruin.\n\nBut the perfecting of machinery is making human labor superfluous. If\nthe introduction and increase of machinery means the displacement of\nmillions of manual, by a few machine-workers, improvement in machinery\nmeans the displacement of more and more of the machine-workers\nthemselves. It means, in the last instance, the production of a number\nof available wage-workers in excess of the average needs of capital,\nthe formation of a complete industrial reserve army, as I called it\nin 1845,[6] available at the times when industry is working at high\npressure, to be cast out upon the street when the inevitable crash\ncomes, a constant dead weight upon the limbs of the working-class in\nits struggle for existence with capital, a regulator for the keeping\nof wages down to the low level that suits the interests of capital.\nThus it comes about, to quote Marx, that machinery becomes the most\npowerful weapon in the war of capital against the working-class; that\nthe instruments of labor constantly tear the means of subsistence out\nof the hands of the laborer; that the very product of the worker is\nturned into an instrument for his subjugation. Thus it comes about\nthat the economizing of the instruments of labor becomes at the same\ntime, from the outset, the most reckless waste of labor-power, and\nrobbery based upon the normal conditions under which labor functions;\nthat machinery, \"the most powerful instrument for shortening\nlabor-time, becomes the most unfailing means for placing every moment\nof the laborer's time and that of his family at the disposal of the\ncapitalist for the purpose of expanding the value of his capital\"\n(\"Capital,\" American edition, p. 445). Thus it comes about that\nover-work of some becomes the preliminary condition for the idleness\nof others, and that modern industry, which hunts after new consumers\nover the whole world, forces the consumption of the masses at home\ndown to a starvation minimum, and in doing thus destroys its own home\nmarket. \"The law that always equilibrates the relative surplus\npopulation, or industrial reserve army, to the extent and energy of\naccumulation, this law rivets the laborer to capital more firmly than\nthe wedges of Vulcan did Prometheus to the rock. It establishes an\naccumulation of misery, corresponding with accumulation of capital.\nAccumulation of wealth at one pole is, therefore, at the same time,\naccumulation of misery, agony of toil, slavery, ignorance, brutality,\nmental degradation, at the opposite pole, _i.e._, on the side of the\nclass that produces _its own product in the form of capital_.\" (Marx'\n\"Capital\" Vol. I [Kerr & Co.]. p. 709.) And to expect any other\ndivision of the products from the capitalistic mode of production is\nthe same as expecting the electrodes of a battery not to decompose\nacidulated water, not to liberate oxygen at the positive, hydrogen at\nthe negative pole, so long as they are connected with the battery.\n\nWe have seen that the ever-increasing perfectibility of modern\nmachinery is, by the anarchy of social production, turned into a\ncompulsory law that forces the individual industrial capitalist always\nto improve his machinery always to increase its productive force. The\nbare possibility of extending the field of production is transformed\nfor him into a similar compulsory law. The enormous expansive force of\nmodern industry, compared with which that of gases is mere child's\nplay, appears to us now as a _necessity_ for expansion, both\nqualitative and quantitative, that laughs at all resistance. Such\nresistance is offered by consumption, by sales, by the markets for\nthe products of modern industry. But the capacity for extension,\nextensive and intensive, of the markets is primarily governed by quite\ndifferent laws, that work much less energetically. The extension of\nthe markets can not keep pace with the extension of production. The\ncollision becomes inevitable, and as this cannot produce any real\nsolution so long as it does not break in pieces the capitalist mode of\nproduction, the collisions become periodic. Capitalist production has\nbegotten another \"vicious circle.\"\n\nAs a matter of fact, since 1825, when the first general crisis broke\nout, the whole industrial and commercial world, production and\nexchange among all civilized peoples and their more or less barbaric\nhangers-on, are thrown out of joint about once every ten years.\nCommerce is at a stand-still, the markets are glutted, products\naccumulate, as multitudinous as they are unsaleable, hard cash\ndisappears, credit vanishes, factories are closed, the mass of the\nworkers are in want of the means of subsistence, because they have\nproduced too much of the means of subsistence; bankruptcy follows\nupon bankruptcy, execution upon execution. The stagnation lasts for\nyears; productive forces and products are wasted and destroyed\nwholesale, until the accumulated mass of commodities finally filter\noff, more or less depreciated in value, until production and exchange\ngradually begin to move again. Little by little the pace quickens. It\nbecomes a trot. The industrial trot breaks into a canter, the canter\nin turn grows into the headlong gallop of a perfect steeplechase of\nindustry, commercial credit, and speculation, which finally, after\nbreakneck leaps, ends where it began--in the ditch of a crisis. And so\nover and over again. We have now, since the year 1825, gone through\nthis five times, and at the present moment (1877) we are going through\nit for the sixth time. And the character of these crises is so clearly\ndefined that Fourier hit all of them off, when he described the first\nas \"_crise plethorique_,\" a crisis from plethora.\n\nIn these crises, the contradiction between socialized production and\ncapitalist appropriation ends in a violent explosion. The circulation\nof commodities is, for the time being, stopped. Money, the means of\ncirculation, becomes a hindrance to circulation. All the laws of\nproduction and circulation of commodities are turned upside down. The\neconomic collision has reached its apogee. _The mode of production is\nin rebellion against the mode of exchange._\n\nThe fact that the socialized organization of production within the\nfactory has developed so far that it has become incompatible with the\nanarchy of production in society, which exists side by side with and\ndominates it, is brought home to the capitalists themselves by the\nviolent concentration of capital that occurs during crises, through\nthe ruin of many large, and a still greater number of small,\ncapitalists. The whole mechanism of the capitalist mode of production\nbreaks down under the pressure of the productive forces, its own\ncreations. It is no longer able to turn all this mass of means of\nproduction into capital. They lie fallow, and for that very reason the\nindustrial reserve army must also lie fallow. Means of production,\nmeans of subsistence, available laborers, all the elements of\nproduction and of general wealth, are present in abundance. But\n\"abundance becomes the source of distress and want\" (Fourier), because\nit is the very thing that prevents the transformation of the means of\nproduction and subsistence into capital. For in capitalistic society\nthe means of production can only function when they have undergone a\npreliminary transformation into capital, into the means of exploiting\nhuman labor-power. The necessity of this transformation into capital\nof the means of production and subsistence stands like a ghost between\nthese and the workers. It alone prevents the coming together of the\nmaterial and personal levers of production; it alone forbids the means\nof production to function, the workers to work and live. On the one\nhand, therefore, the capitalistic mode of production stands convicted\nof its own incapacity to further direct these productive forces. On\nthe other, these productive forces themselves, with increasing energy,\npress forward to the removal of the existing contradiction, to the\nabolition of their quality as capital, to the _practical recognition\nof their character as social productive forces_.\n\nThis rebellion of the productive forces, as they grow more and more\npowerful, against their quality as capital, this stronger and stronger\ncommand that their social character shall be recognized, forces the\ncapitalist class itself to treat them more and more as social\nproductive forces, so far as this is possible under capitalist\nconditions. The period of industrial high pressure, with its unbounded\ninflation of credit, not less than the crash itself, by the collapse\nof great capitalist establishments, tends to bring about that form of\nthe socialization of great masses of means of production, which we\nmeet with in the different kinds of joint-stock companies. Many of\nthese means of production and of distribution are, from the outset, so\ncolossal, that, like the railroads, they exclude all other forms of\ncapitalistic exploitation. At a further stage of evolution this form\nalso becomes insufficient. The producers on a large scale in a\nparticular branch of industry in a particular country unite in a\n\"Trust,\" a union for the purpose of regulating production. They\ndetermine the total amount to be produced, parcel it out among\nthemselves, and thus enforce the selling price fixed beforehand. But\ntrusts of this kind, as soon as business becomes bad, are generally\nliable to break up, and, on this very account, compel a yet greater\nconcentration of association. The whole of the particular industry is\nturned into one gigantic joint-stock company; internal competition\ngives place to the internal monopoly of this one company. This has\nhappened in 1890 with the English _alkali_ production, which is now,\nafter the fusion of 48 large works, in the hands of one company,\nconducted upon a single plan, and with a capital of L6,000,000.\n\nIn the trusts, freedom of competition changes into its very\nopposite--into monopoly; and the production without any definite plan\nof capitalistic society capitulates to the production upon a definite\nplan of the invading socialistic society. Certainly this is so far\nstill to the benefit and advantage of the capitalists. But in this\ncase the exploitation is so palpable that it must break down. No\nnation will put up with production conducted by trusts, with so\nbarefaced an exploitation of the community by a small band of\ndividend-mongers.\n\nIn any case, with trusts or without, the official representative of\ncapitalist society--the State--will ultimately have to undertake the\ndirection of production.[7] This necessity for conversion into\nState-property is felt first in the great institutions for intercourse\nand communication--the postoffice, the telegraphs, the railways.\n\nIf the crisis demonstrate the incapacity of the bourgeoisie for\nmanaging any longer modern productive forces, the transformation of\nthe great establishments for production and distribution into\njoint-stock companies, trusts, and State property, show how\nunnecessary the bourgeoisie are for that purpose. All the social\nfunctions of the capitalist are now performed by salaried employees.\nThe capitalist has no further social function than that of pocketing\ndividends, tearing off coupons, and gambling on the Stock Exchange,\nwhere the different capitalists despoil one another of their capital.\nAt first the capitalistic mode of production forces out the workers.\nNow it forces out the capitalists, and reduces them, just as it\nreduced the workers, to the ranks of the surplus population, although\nnot immediately into those of the industrial reserve army.\n\nBut the transformation, either into joint-stock companies and trusts,\nor into State-ownership does not do away with the capitalistic nature\nof the productive forces. In the joint-stock companies and trusts this\nis obvious. And the modern State, again, is only the organization that\nbourgeois society takes on in order to support the external conditions\nof the capitalist mode of production against the encroachments, as\nwell of the workers as of individual capitalists. The modern State, no\nmatter what its form, is essentially a capitalist machine, the state\nof the capitalists, the ideal personification of the total national\ncapital. The more it proceeds to the taking over of productive forces,\nthe more does it actually become the national capitalist, the more\ncitizens does it exploit. The workers remain wage-workers--proletarians.\nThe capitalist relation is not done away with. It is rather brought to\na head. But, brought to a head, it topples over. State-ownership of\nthe productive forces is not the solution of the conflict, but\nconcealed within it are the technical conditions that form the\nelements of that solution.\n\nThis solution can only consist in the practical recognition of the\nsocial nature of the modern forces of production, and therefore in the\nharmonizing the modes of production, appropriation, and exchange with\nthe socialized character of the means of production. And this can only\ncome about by society openly and directly taking possession of the\nproductive forces which have outgrown all control except that of\nsociety as a whole. The social character of the means of production\nand of the products to-day reacts against the producers, periodically\ndisrupts all production and exchange, acts only like a law of Nature\nworking blindly, forcibly, destructively. But with the taking over by\nsociety of the productive forces, the social character of the means of\nproduction and of the products will be utilized by the producers with\na perfect understanding of its nature, and instead of being a source\nof disturbance and periodical collapse, will become the most powerful\nlever of production itself.\n\nActive social forces work exactly like natural forces: blindly,\nforcibly, destructively, so long as we do not understand, and reckon\nwith, them. But when once we understand them, when once we grasp their\naction, their direction, their effects, it depends only upon ourselves\nto subject them more and more to our own will, and by means of them to\nreach our own ends. And this holds quite especially of the mighty\nproductive forces of to-day. As long as we obstinately refuse to\nunderstand the nature and the character of these social means of\naction--and this understanding goes against the grain of the\ncapitalist mode of production and its defenders--so long these forces\nare at work in spite of us, in opposition to us, so long they master\nus, as we have shown above in detail.\n\nBut when once their nature is understood, they can, in the hands of\nthe producers working together, be transformed from master demons into\nwilling servants. The difference is as that between the destructive\nforce of electricity in the lightning of the storm, and electricity\nunder command in the telegraph and the voltaic arc; the difference\nbetween a conflagration, and fire working in the service of man. With\nthis recognition at last of the real nature of the productive forces\nof to-day, the social anarchy of production gives place to a social\nregulation of production upon a definite plan, according to the needs\nof the community and of each individual. Then the capitalist mode of\nappropriation, in which the product enslaves first the producer and\nthen the appropriator, is replaced by the mode of appropriation of the\nproducts that is based upon the nature of the modern means of\nproduction; upon the one hand, direct social appropriation, as means\nto the maintenance and extension of production--on the other, direct\nindividual appropriation, as means of subsistence and of enjoyment.\n\nWhilst the capitalist mode of production more and more completely\ntransforms the great majority of the population into proletarians, it\ncreates the power which, under penalty of its own destruction, is\nforced to accomplish this revolution. Whilst it forces on more and\nmore the transformation of the vast means of production, already\nsocialized, into State property, it shows itself the way to\naccomplishing this revolution. _The proletariat seizes political power\nand turns the means of production into State property._\n\nBut in doing this, it abolishes itself as proletariat, abolishes all\nclass distinctions and class antagonisms, abolishes also the State as\nState. Society thus far, based upon class antagonisms, had need of the\nState. That is, of an organization of the particular class which was\n_pro tempore_ the exploiting class, an organization for the purpose of\npreventing any interference from without with the existing conditions\nof production, and therefore, especially, for the purpose of forcibly\nkeeping the exploited classes in the condition of oppression\ncorresponding with the given mode of production (slavery, serfdom,\nwage-labor). The State was the official representative of society as a\nwhole; the gathering of it together into a visible embodiment. But it\nwas this only in so far as it was the State of that class which itself\nrepresented, for the time being, society as a whole; in ancient times,\nthe State of slave-owning citizens; in the middle ages, the feudal\nlords; in our own time, the bourgeoisie. When at last it becomes the\nreal representative of the whole of society, it renders itself\nunnecessary. As soon as there is no longer any social class to be held\nin subjection; as soon as class rule, and the individual struggle for\nexistence based upon our present anarchy in production, with the\ncollisions and excesses arising from these, are removed, nothing more\nremains to be repressed, and a special repressive force, a State, is\nno longer necessary. The first act by virtue of which the State really\nconstitutes itself the representative of the whole of society--the\ntaking possession of the means of production in the name of\nsociety--this is, at the same time, its last independent act as a\nState. State interference in social relations becomes, in one domain\nafter another, superfluous, and then dies out of itself; the\ngovernment of persons is replaced by the administration of things, and\nby the conduct of processes of production. The State is not\n\"abolished.\" _It dies out._ This gives the measure of the value of the\nphrase \"a free State,\" both as to its justifiable use at times by\nagitators, and as to its ultimate scientific insufficiency; and also\nof the demands of the so-called anarchists for the abolition of the\nState out of hand.\n\nSince the historical appearance of the capitalist mode of production,\nthe appropriation by society of all the means of production has often\nbeen dreamed of, more or less vaguely, by individuals, as well as by\nsects, as the ideal of the future. But it could become possible, could\nbecome a historical necessity, only when the actual conditions for its\nrealization were there. Like every other social advance, it becomes\npracticable, not by men understanding that the existence of classes is\nin contradiction to justice, equality, etc., not by the mere\nwillingness to abolish these classes, but by virtue of certain new\neconomic conditions. The separation of society into an exploiting and\nan exploited class, a ruling and an oppressed class, was the\nnecessary consequence of the deficient and restricted development of\nproduction in former times. So long as the total social labor only\nyields a produce which but slightly exceeds that barely necessary for\nthe existence of all; so long, therefore, as labor engages all or\nalmost all the time of the great majority of the members of\nsociety--so long, of necessity, this society is divided into classes.\nSide by side with the great majority, exclusively bond slaves to\nlabor, arises a class freed from directly productive labor, which\nlooks after the general affairs of society; the direction of labor,\nState business, law, science, art, etc. It is, therefore, the law of\ndivision of labor that lies at the basis of the division into classes.\nBut this does not prevent this division into classes from being\ncarried out by means of violence and robbery, trickery and fraud. It\ndoes not prevent the ruling class, once having the upper hand, from\nconsolidating its power at the expense of the working-class, from\nturning their social leadership into an intensified exploitation of\nthe masses.\n\nBut if, upon this showing, division into classes has a certain\nhistorical justification, it has this only for a given period, only\nunder given social conditions. It was based upon the insufficiency of\nproduction. It will be swept away by the complete development of\nmodern productive forces. And, in fact, the abolition of classes in\nsociety presupposes a degree of historical evolution, at which the\nexistence, not simply of this or that particular ruling class, but of\nany ruling class at all, and, therefore, the existence of class\ndistinction itself has become an obsolete anachronism. It presupposes,\ntherefore, the development of production carried out to a degree at\nwhich appropriation of the means of production and of the products,\nand, with this, of political domination, of the monopoly of culture,\nand of intellectual leadership by a particular class of society, has\nbecome not only superfluous, but economically, politically,\nintellectually a hindrance to development.\n\nThis point is now reached. Their political and intellectual bankruptcy\nis scarcely any longer a secret to the bourgeoisie themselves. Their\neconomic bankruptcy recurs regularly every ten years. In every crisis,\nsociety is suffocated beneath the weight of its own productive forces\nand products, which it cannot use, and stands helpless, face to face\nwith the absurd contradiction that the producers have nothing to\nconsume, because consumers are wanting. The expansive force of the\nmeans of production bursts the bonds that the capitalist mode of\nproduction had imposed upon them. Their deliverance from these bonds\nis the one precondition for an unbroken, constantly-accelerated\ndevelopment of the productive forces, and therewith for a practically\nunlimited increase of production itself. Nor is this all. The\nsocialized appropriation of the means of production does away, not\nonly with the present artificial restrictions upon production, but\nalso with the positive waste and devastation of productive forces and\nproducts that are at the present time the inevitable concomitants of\nproduction, and that reach their height in the crises. Further, it\nsets free for the community at large a mass of means of production and\nof products, by doing away with the senseless extravagance of the\nruling classes of to-day, and their political representatives. The\npossibility of securing for every member of society, by means of\nsocialized production, an existence not only fully sufficient\nmaterially, and becoming day by day more full, but an existence\nguaranteeing to all the free development and exercise of their\nphysical and mental faculties--this possibility is now for the first\ntime here, but _it is here_.[8]\n\nWith the seizing of the means of production by society, production of\ncommodities is done away with, and, simultaneously, the mastery of\nthe product over the producer. Anarchy in social production is\nreplaced by systematic, definite organization. The struggle for\nindividual existence disappears. Then for the first time, man, in a\ncertain sense, is finally marked off from the rest of the animal\nkingdom, and emerges from mere animal conditions of existence into\nreally human ones. The whole sphere of the conditions of life which\nenviron man, and which have hitherto ruled man, now comes under the\ndominion and control of man, who for the first time becomes the real,\nconscious lord of Nature, because he has now become master of his own\nsocial organization. The laws of his own social action, hitherto\nstanding face to face with man as laws of Nature foreign to, and\ndominating, him, will then be used with full understanding, and so\nmastered by him. Man's own social organization, hitherto confronting\nhim as a necessity imposed by Nature and history, now becomes the\nresult of his own free action. The extraneous objective forces that\nhave hitherto governed history, pass under the control of man\nhimself. Only from that time will man himself, more and more\nconsciously, make his own history--only from that time will the social\ncauses set in movement by him have, in the main and in a constantly\ngrowing measure, the results intended by him. It is the ascent of man\nfrom the kingdom of necessity to the kingdom of freedom.\n\nLet us briefly sum up our sketch of historical evolution.\n\nI. _Mediaeval Society._--Individual production on a small scale. Means\nof production adapted for individual use; hence primitive, ungainly,\npetty, dwarfed in action. Production for immediate consumption, either\nof the producer himself or of his feudal lord. Only where an excess of\nproduction over this consumption occurs is such excess offered for\nsale, enters into exchange. Production of commodities, therefore, only\nin its infancy. But already it contains within itself, in embryo,\n_anarchy in the production of society at large_.\n\nII. _Capitalist Revolution._--Transformation of industry, at first by\nmeans of simple co-operation and manufacture. Concentration of the\nmeans of production, hitherto scattered, into great workshops. As a\nconsequence, their transformation from individual to social means of\nproduction--a transformation which does not, on the whole, affect the\nform of exchange. The old forms of appropriation remain in force. The\ncapitalist appears. In his capacity as owner of the means of\nproduction, he also appropriates the products and turns them into\ncommodities. Production has become a _social_ act. Exchange and\nappropriation continue to be _individual_ acts, the acts of\nindividuals. _The social product is appropriated by the individual\ncapitalist._ Fundamental contradiction, whence arise all the\ncontradictions in which our present day society moves, and which\nmodern industry brings to light.\n\n   A. Severance of the producer from the means of production.\n   Condemnation of the worker to wage-labor for life. _Antagonism\n   between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie._\n\n   B. Growing predominance and increasing effectiveness of the laws\n   governing the production of commodities. Unbridled competition.\n   _Contradiction between socialized organization in the individual\n   factory and social anarchy in production as a whole._\n\n   C. On the one hand, perfecting of machinery, made by competition\n   compulsory for each individual manufacturer, and complemented by\n   a constantly growing displacement of laborers. _Industrial\n   reserve-army._ On the other hand, unlimited extension of\n   production, also compulsory under competition, for every\n   manufacturer. On both sides, unheard of development of productive\n   forces, excess of supply over demand, over-production, glutting\n   of the markets, crises every ten years, the vicious circle:\n   excess here, of means of production and products--excess there,\n   of laborers, without employment and without means of existence.\n   But these two levers of production and of social well-being are\n   unable to work together, because the capitalist form of\n   production prevents the productive forces from working and the\n   products from circulating, unless they are first turned into\n   capital--which their very superabundance prevents. The\n   contradiction has grown into an absurdity. _The mode of\n   production rises in rebellion against the form of exchange._ The\n   bourgeoisie are convicted of incapacity further to manage their\n   own social productive forces.\n\n   D. Partial recognition of the social character of the productive\n   forces forced upon the capitalists themselves. Taking over of the\n   great institutions for production and communication, first by\n   joint-stock companies, later on by trusts, then by the State. The\n   bourgeoisie demonstrated to be a superfluous class. All its\n   social functions are now performed by salaried employees.\n\nIII. _Proletarian Revolution._--Solution of the contradictions. The\nproletariat seizes the public power, and by means of this transforms\nthe socialized means of production, slipping from the hands of the\nbourgeoisie, into public property. By this act the proletariat frees\nthe means of production from the character of capital they have thus\nfar borne, and gives their socialized character complete freedom to\nwork itself out. Socialized production upon a predetermined plan\nbecomes henceforth possible. The development of production makes the\nexistence of different classes of society thenceforth an anachronism.\nIn proportion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the political\nauthority of the State dies out. Man, at last the master of his own\nform of social organization, becomes at the same time the lord over\nNature, his own master--free.\n\nTo accomplish this act of universal emancipation is the historical\nmission of the modern proletariat. To thoroughly comprehend the\nhistorical conditions and thus the very nature of this act, to impart\nto the now oppressed proletarian class a full knowledge of the\nconditions and of the meaning of the momentous act it is called upon\nto accomplish, this is the task of the theoretical expression of the\nproletarian movement, scientific Socialism.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] It is hardly necessary in this connection to point out, that, even\nif the form of appropriation remains the same, the _character_ of the\nappropriation is just as much revolutionized as production is by the\nchanges described above. It is, of course, a very different matter\nwhether I appropriate to myself my own product or that of another.\nNote in passing that wage-labor, which contains the whole capitalistic\nmode of production in embryo, is very ancient; in a sporadic,\nscattered form it existed for centuries alongside of slave-labor. But\nthe embryo could duly develop into the capitalistic mode of production\nonly when the necessary historical preconditions had been furnished.\n\n[5] _See Appendix._\n\n[6] \"The Condition of the Working-Class in England\" (Sonnenschein &\nCo.), p. 84.\n\n[7] I say \"have to.\" For only when the means of production and\ndistribution have _actually_ outgrown the form of management by\njoint-stock companies, and when, therefore, the taking them over by\nthe State has become _economically_ inevitable, only then--even if it\nis the State of to-day that effects this--is there an economic\nadvance, the attainment of another step preliminary to the taking over\nof all productive forces by society itself. But of late, since\nBismarck went in for State-ownership of industrial establishments, a\nkind of spurious Socialism has arisen, degenerating, now and again,\ninto something of flunkeyism, that without more ado declares _all_\nState-ownership, even of the Bismarckian sort, to be socialistic.\nCertainly, if the taking over by the State of the tobacco industry is\nsocialistic, then Napoleon and Metternich must be numbered among the\nfounders of Socialism. If the Belgian State, for quite ordinary\npolitical and financial reasons, itself constructed its chief railway\nlines; if Bismarck, not under any economic compulsion, took over for\nthe State the chief Prussian lines, simply to be the better able to\nhave them in hand in case of war, to bring up the railway employees as\nvoting cattle for the Government, and especially to create for himself\na new source of income independent of parliamentary votes--this was,\nin no sense, a socialistic measure, directly or indirectly,\nconsciously or unconsciously. Otherwise, the Royal Maritime Company,\nthe Royal porcelain manufacture, and even the regimental tailor of the\narmy would also be socialistic institutions, or even, as was seriously\nproposed by a sly dog in Frederick William III.'s reign, the taking\nover by the State of the brothels.\n\n[8] A few figures may serve to give an approximate idea of the\nenormous expansive force of the modern means of production, even under\ncapitalist pressure. According to Mr. Giffen, the total wealth of\nGreat Britain and Ireland amounted, in round numbers, in\n\n    1814 to L2,200,000,000.\n    1865 to L6,100,000,000.\n    1875 to L8,500,000,000.\n\nAs an instance of the squandering of means of production and of\nproducts during a crisis, the total loss in the German iron industry\nalone, in the crisis of 1873-78, was given at the second German\nIndustrial Congress (Berlin, February 21, 1878) as L22,750,000.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    +-----------------------------------------------------------+\n    | Typographical errors corrected in text:                   |\n    |                                                           |\n    | Page  29: conteracting replaced with counteracting        |\n    | Page  60: non-possesing replaced with non-possessing      |\n    | Page 111: \"But the perfecting of machinery is the making  |\n    |           human labor superfluous.\" replaced with         |\n    |           \"But the perfecting of machinery is making      |\n    |           human labor superfluous.\"                       |\n    | Page 130: preletariat replaced with proletariat           |\n    |                                                           |\n    +-----------------------------------------------------------+\n\n       *       *       *       *       *","title":"Socialism, Utopian and Scientific","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":25126}