Then and then only shall we be in position by legally possessing the power to defend ourselves, our class.
Then and then only shall we be in position to destroy the parasitic class aggression, the class robbery, out of which grows the class struggle—the civil war in the shop, and the war, the civil war, of the toil-stained brothers of the working class on the battlefield.
Then, and then only, shall we be in best position to declare war against war.
Then we shall cease forever to foolishly wet the earth with our blood and tears and cease to be robbed in the shop and factory; and then we shall claim our own, a greater life.
The only safety therefore for the working people in all lands is to organize themselves into a political party, an international political party, of the working class, and patiently build their party big enough for each national group of workers to seize the political powers of government in their own country—always, everywhere, loudly declaring war against war.
There is but one working class political party on all the earth. That party sincerely proclaims: “Freedom for the working class! No more war!” And loudly and patiently that party sounds an immortal call of brotherhood to all the workers on all the blood-stained earth:—“Workingmen of all countries, unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains; you have a world to gain.”
That working-class party is the Socialist Party.
Already this working class party, loudly calling, “Freedom in the shop and freedom from the battlefield”—already this party is beginning to save the blood and tears and homes and joys of the working class.
Every working man and woman should learn—and teach the children to recite at school—the following page of history, four historic events:
First Event: In 1847 two men, geniuses, wrote a very small, but powerful book.[326] The book was published in 1848. Kings, emperors, tsars and presidents have turned pale when their common people began to understand that small book. The first proposition in that astonishing book is: “The [recorded] history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.” That is a great fact. Pack it into your mind. That sentence has opened wide the mental windows of millions of working men—and women. The last sentence of that book of social lightning is this:—“Workingmen of all countries, unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains, you have a world to gain!” That is a sublime call. That call has thrilled millions of weary working-class people. Every year it thrills millions more. Some day that call will enter your soul. Then you will know the meaning of this next event.
Second Event: In 1870 two distinguished crowned assassins sent hundreds of thousands of working men to the boundary between France and Germany to butcher and be butchered.[327] Even then—forty years ago—the shrewdest workers in Germany, France and other European countries realized what war meant for the working class. These men were banded together in the International Working-Men’s Association. These keen, studious toilers warned the working class against the war. In 1870 they sent out this general announcement: “They (the members of the International Working-Men’s Association) feel deeply convinced that whatever turn the impending horrid war may take, the alliance of the working classes of all countries will ultimately kill war.” The Paris branch of the International issued an address saying: “French, German, Spanish working men! Let our voices unite in a cry of reprobation against war.... Working men of all countries! Whatever may be the result of our common efforts, we members of the International Association of Working-Men, who know no frontiers, we send you, as a pledge of indissoluble solidarity, the good wishes and the salutation of the workingmen of France.” The Berlin section of the International finely responded: “We join with you heart and hand in protestation.... Solemnly we promise you that neither the noise of drums nor the thunder of cannon, neither victory nor defeat, shall turn us aside from our work for the union of the workingmen of all countries.” German delegates at Chemnitz, Saxony, representing fifty thousand workingmen also made noble reply: “We are happy to grasp the fraternal hand stretched out to us by the workingmen of France.... We shall never forget that the workingmen of all countries are our friends, and the despots of all countries our enemies.”
The grand old International has become the Socialist Party of our day. The Socialist Party is indeed the political party of the working class.
In recent years election returns show in one country, the best educated country in Europe, this political party of the working class, the Socialist Party, with over three million four hundred thousand serious, loyal workingmen banded together voting solidly together. Every year a larger and larger number of them take their seats in the world’s leading legislatures. In ten countries in Europe this party has from one to eighty members of the working class in the national legislatures in legal position to defend the working class. And right vigorously these brave working-class comrades have defended the working class in every possible way they could. With the increasing election victories of this working-class party, the working class have increasing power to defend themselves. And everywhere this party is down on war. The influence of this party has already been effectively exerted against war. The vast influence of this party against war is admitted by the most bitter and powerful enemies of the working class.
Third Event: In 1905–6 the Norwegian and the Swedish armies (working men, of course) were ordered to the front to butcher one another. They were assembled at the national boundary. Tens of thousands of homes were desolate. Fear was an agony in the hearts of a multitude of women and children. Reporters were present from all parts of the world to flash the news of the butchery around the earth. The capitalist coffin trust was exceedingly glad, business was about to pick up. Gilt-braided buccaneer commanders were about to shout: “Form! Fire! Charge! Slaughter!”
“Everything was ready”—it seemed.
Then something happened—something sublime and new in the sad and “somber march of mankind.”
No sword was drawn.
No cannon roared.
No Gatling gun mowed down thousands.
No wild cavalry charged.
No hospital became a hell of cursing, groaning, screaming, mangled men.
Yet “everything was ready”—ready to defend the sacred honor of “royal” and “noble” coward parasites.
Everything was ready except one thing—the consent of the working class.
The conscripted Socialist soldiers in both armies and the Socialists everywhere throughout both countries had passed the sign of working-class brotherhood all through both armies and through both countries: “We working class men are brothers. Let us not slit the veins of our own class simply to satisfy the vicious pride of snobbish masters. Let us save our own blood and tears.”
This international brothers’ cry was like a splendid flash of lightning at midnight. Brothers saw brothers, working-class brothers, in the night, the midnight of capitalism. The soul of the working class in both these countries flashed response: “Brothers! Brothers! We understand!” The human race seemed to smile. The Swedish and the Norwegian soldiers mingled. These armed workers fraternized. Armed men embraced armed men. They shouted and wept—for joy.
They sneered at the frowns of their commanders. Proudly and promptly they refused to butcher and be butchered.[328]
That settled it. There was no war.
There can not be war unless the working class agree to it.
No working men were butchered, and the international misunderstanding had to be settled without opening the blood vessels of the toilers. For of course you know, reader, that the broadclothed capitalist snobs of these countries were too cowardly to fight the war themselves.
And now there are many more happy homes, happy wives, happy mothers and happy children in Norway and Sweden than there would have been if the humble working people of these two countries had permitted a precious lot of gilt-edged cowards to excite them and confuse them and then “sic” them at one another’s throats.
Fourth Event: Very recently, in 1906–7, the Socialist Party in Germany and France prevented war between Germany and France over the “Morocco affair.” This is admitted even by distinguished European enemies of the Socialist Party. This threatened war might easily have cost five hundred thousand lives—working-class lives—and five billions of treasure and desolated hundreds of thousands of homes and darkened both countries with an international hatred lasting half a century.
But the Socialists blocked the game.
Again and again in their International Congresses the Socialists have protested against war and militarism as being, for the working class, nothing but a burden and a curse.[329]
Political masters and industrial masters on all the earth—these recognize the Socialist Party as the Working-Class Political Party.[330]
You, my brother, should also recognize the Socialist Party as your own Working-Class Political Party.
Reread propositions numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, p. 300.
The outline of industrial reconstruction there given in the six propositions is the outline of the constructive platform and program of the working-class political party, the Socialist Party, everywhere.[331]
Because the Socialist Party recognizes and points out the clash of class interests in the present class-labor system;
Because the Socialist Party proposes industrial freedom for the working class;
Because the Socialist Party proposes the destruction of the class-labor system called capitalism;
Because the Socialist Party proposes that every person who renders useful social service shall have the value of his service—undiminished by the modern legalized forms of filching, namely, rent, interest and profits;
Because the Socialist Party proposes that the working class band together and save themselves;
For such reasons the Socialist Party is the Political Party of the Working Class.
The Socialists urge:
That no longer shall the workers whimper for the protecting wings of that strange political bird, that large male angel, called a “good man”;
That no longer shall the workers childishly accept the treacherous advice from political stalking horses, called “political reformers,” and “political saviors”;
That no longer shall the workers rest in dull dependence upon the advice of eager-to-be-elevated capitalist “leaders of the people”;
That no longer shall the workers go gullibly chasing after still-fed “statesmen” on election day;
That no longer shall the workers in stupid expectation meekly linger at the back door of legislative halls, teasing smooth, stall-fed capitalist “statesmen” for labor legislation;
That the workers band together and emancipate themselves from war, from the wholesale robbery, tyranny and blood-letting of Capitalism.
With heads and hearts and hopes together the working class should read together, study together, reason together, band together, struggle together, and altogether in a political party of the working class stand together and vote together and capture the power of government for the freedom and protection of the working class.
Let us respect our own working class.
Let us have faith in our own working class.
Let us protect ourselves.
“Let us get up off our knees—and our masters won’t seem so tall.”
Down with industrial despotism and its wars!
Up with industrial democracy and its peace!
(Before reading the following paragraphs examine last four Pages of Chapter Six, paragraph headed: “A Special Warning to the Working Class of the United States.”)
One more word here:
Brothers, beware!
With pride and defiance hold up your heads—and think.
Prepare to say: “WE REFUSE.”
Beware. Another war is brewing.
“Another war is necessary!”—your betrayers will presently tell you.
True! From the capitalist’s point of view another war will, indeed, presently be necessary; another war becomes more and more imperatively necessary—and for a new and increasing reason.
The much plundered working people are beginning to think. Thought is revolutionary. A thought is a file, a keen saw, with which a soul may escape from the gloomy dungeon of prejudice. Thought is intellectual nitroglycerine for blasting the flinty mountains of prejudice. Thought utterly destroys mental rubbish. Thought kills what ought to die. Thinking slaves promptly become defiant and dare to do for freedom. Thought kills—kills slavery.
Thought, however, can still be prevented. Even the splendid thought of peace and freedom can still be strangled in a wild delirium called “patriotic” war. Hence every purchasable educated human thing with influence must play its prostitute part in resurrecting and perpetuating the ferocious thirst for war.
For capitalist purposes another war is necessary.
Therefore strangle brotherliness.
Therefore stifle man’s grand sweet dream of peace.
A fat living of domineering idleness for industrial pirates and their pampered pets and shameless hangers-on is not much longer possible, unless the masters as usual can set the working people clutching at one another’s throats, draining one another’s sweat and blood in a hateful spasm of international epilepsy called “patriotic” war.
Therefore drug the working people.
Therefore read again to the weary multitude the goriest pages of history, and declare to them that an act must be soaked in a brother’s blood before it is magnificent. The people must lust again for another savage storm of stupid wrath called war.
Therefore we see the war-flag of capitalism shrewdly waved before the bulging, easily inflamed eyes of the multitude: “Good fighters—war”; “young men not only willing, but anxious to fight—war”; “heroes, heroes—war”; “glory, military glory—war”; “noble, noble soldiers—war”; “ours the most improved arms in the world—war”; “greatest navy on earth—war”; “splendid victories—war”; “better militia—larger army—war”; “our national honor—war”; “we never surrender—war”; “America in the Orient—war”; “we must defend our foreign markets—war”; “see the brave boys behind the guns—war”; “send the fleets around the earth and dare the world to war”; “we are all ready for war, war, war”;—over and over this oratorical flag, this Christless vocabulary of blood-spilling cruelty, on and on, year after year—till these disgusting phrases steam in memory with the spurting blood of the long-mourned slain.
Another war is necessary.
Therefore fill the trenches with the carcasses of citizens and with fixed bayonets march on—on—on to noisy glory, on to the red madness of the brutal battlefield. This is the pagan text of literary and oratorical hirelings before a nation of Christians and peaceful Jews; this is the loveless refrain bellowed before blushing school girls; this is the Alexandrian slogan before excitable, impressible boys; this is the gore-stained banner to be gallantly flaunted on holidays before the tear-wet eyes of the sad old widows and the hobbling cripples of the Civil War; this is the race-cursing call to ninety millions of people sick of stupidly disputing with sword and cannon, longing to embrace one another in caressing fraternalism. Hideous echoes of the cruel voice of Caesar, savage whoop from the tomb of Napoleon, the assassin of France, barbarous yell from the war-cursed plains of the long, long ago—this—yes, this is the sublime height reached by the average orthodox teacher and preacher of patriotism.
And from all parts of this thinly veiled despotism of foxy, industrial tsars, comes enthusiastic approval of all such teaching;—approval from the profit-stuffed leeches whose pouting lips suck and tug at the veins of the toiling multitude; approval from the supercilious snobs at Palm Beach, Newport and Monte Carlo; approval from the editorial intellectual prostitutes of a subsidized press; approval from the “leading citizens” that roll contemptuously along carefully smoothed streets in rubber-tired carriages and from those who sneer through the palace car windows at the common “hired hands” who man the trains and keep the track in repair; approval from the masters who own the mills and mines and stick out their tongues in scorn at the hundreds of thousands out of work or on strike for a few cents more a day; approval from the “great business men” who search the earth for markets for goods produced by the sweating wage-slaves shrewdly kept too poor to buy what their own weary minds and their puffed and blistered hands create; and, saddest of all, approval from the millions of shame-faced wage-earners viciously seduced with ironically empty “prosperity” phrases, chloroformed with pompous military rhetoric, stupefied with the proud strut and cheap swagger of “prominent” and “cultivated” vulgarians—yes, approval also from these modest modern slaves through whose veins seems to slip the inherited taint of long, low-bowing servitude.
Another war is “necessary.”
Therefore from Mississippi to Minnesota and from Florida to Oregon there is a wide-grinning chuckle of lip-smacking satisfaction in the palaces and club-houses of America’s industrial masters when the easily deceived multitude clap their calloused palms in thoughtless approval as the bribed orator makes fierce visaged War stalk with hypnotic fascination across the stage before the plain deludable people. The people’s delight in arms is thus artfully deepened;—and thus and therefore both the walls of prejudice and the defiant fortresses of glittering steel—behind which the gorged masters of the multitude have for ages fattened and threatened in security—these fortresses of prejudice and force are with increasing diligence made stronger with every possible opportunity, made stronger by every possible means.
Another war?
Expect it and prepare for it by resolving not to go to the next war till the bankers and statesmen have been bleeding on the firing line for at least six weeks.
Yes—yes, it is true that the employers’ fortress of riot-guns is still strong, defiantly strong. No doubt the rent-interest-and-profit game, the game of gouge and grab and keep, will be played securely yet a while by the plunder-bloated masters of our great and glorious country. Undoubtedly millions of our thoughtless young working class men are still ready for plutocratic Senators and Congressmen and uncrowned cruelty in the White House to craftily yell: “Sic ’em, boys, sic ’em.”
But light breaks.
Everywhere, every day the toilers of the world listen—listen more respectfully, listen more intelligently, listen more gratefully to the glad new gospel of justice and peace.
The change comes and come it must. That cruel spell wrought over the mind of the multitude by the bribed orator, by the purchased writer, by the blood-lusting “man on horseback,” and by the far-looking masters of industry—that spell will be, must be, broken. The iron shackles on the wrists and ankles of the toilers have already been broken. The wage-slaves’ shackles also must be rended, not only the industrial, but the mental slavery of the modern workers must be destroyed.
And comes now swiftly forward that soft-toned, but all-conquering gospel of peace and freedom—freedom for the dumb, voiceless multitude, now deadened with the deafening roar of machinery, deadened with the stifling dust and withering heat of the mills, deadened with the poisonous gases in the mines, freedom for the multitude soon to be glad, happy, loving, laughing in the commonwealth of cooperation, of mutualism, of fraternalism—of Socialism.
Courage, courage. Put the strong shoulders of your twelve million ballots to the “stalled world’s wheel” and push. Strike. March. Dawn-ward toward peace.
Know this, you toil-tormented horde: That shrewd juggler’s word war—word with which the swinishly selfish masters have for ages seduced the gullible multitude into the ditches across which those same masters have then rolled on sneering, snickering and safe, that spell-working word reeking with the blood-rotting stench of centuries, that word war and all that that word war now stands for must be stricken from the language of brothers, struck from the affairs of mankind,—forgotten forever—forever replaced by the sweetening peace and the sane abiding power of warless Socialism.
Brothers of the working class, wherever you are on all the earth, let us all say, altogether:
Peace is patriotism to mankind.
We do not want other people’s blood and we refuse to waste our own.
For thousands of years the ruling class have bled us pale. All cannon have always been aimed at us—by us.
We did not see. Our eyes were blinded with our own blood; our minds were paralyzed with lies.
But now we see. Now we understand. And therefore now we stand erect in self-respect. Now in sincere fellowship we extend the right hand of brotherhood to all the working men—and to all the women and to all the children—of the whole world; and to all these we promise:
We will not fight.
We refuse to plunge bayonets into one another’s breasts.
We refuse to slay the fathers of tender children.
We refuse to murder the brothers and lovers of women.
We refuse to butcher the husbands of devoted wives.
We refuse to “Hurrah” over victories that break the heart and blind the world with tears.
We refuse the cheap rôle of Armed Guard—as the salaried assassins in the service of the plunder-bloated coward ruling class.
If the masters want blood let them cut their own throats.