|
-
Enlace ------------------------------------
-
Enlace ------------------------------------
-
Enlace ------------------------------------
-
Enlace ------------------------------------
-
Enlace ------------------------------------ |
|
|
|
|
Part 1 / Part 2
Chapter III
The Consequences of Over-Production
A Greek poet of Cicero’s time, Antiparos, thus sang of the
invention of the water-mill (for grinding grain), which was to
free the slave women and bring back the Golden Age: “Spare the
arm which turns the mill, 0, millers, and sleep peacefully. Let
the cock warn you in vain that day is breaking. Demeter has
imposed upon the nymphs the labor of the slaves, and behold them
leaping merrily over the wheel, and behold the axle tree, shaken,
turning with it's spokes and making the heavy rolling stone
revolve. Let us live the life of our fathers, and let us rejoice
in idleness over the gifts that the goddess grants us.” Alas!
The leisure, which the pagan poet announced, has not come. The
blind, perverse and murderous passion for work transforms the
liberating machine into an instrument for the enslavement of
free men. Its productiveness impoverishes them.
A good working woman makes with her needles only five meshes a
minute, while certain circular knitting machines make 30,000 in
the same time. Every minute of the machine is thus equivalent to
a hundred hours of the workingwomen’s labor, or again, every
minute of the machine’s labor, gives the working women ten days
of rest. What is true for the knitting industry is more or less
true for all industries reconstructed by modern machinery. But
what do we see? In proportion as the machine is improved and
performs man’s work with an ever increasing rapidity and
exactness, the laborer, instead of prolonging his former rest
times, redoubles his ardor, as if he wished to rival the machine.
O, absurd and murderous competition!
That the competition of man and the machine might have free
course, the proletarians have abolished wise laws which limited
the labor of the artisans of the ancient guilds; they have
suppressed the holidays. [1] Because the producers of that time
worked but five days out of seven, are we to believe the stories
told by lying economists that they lived on nothing but air and
fresh water? Not so, they had leisure to taste the joys of earth,
to make love and to frolic, to banquet joyously in honor of the
jovial god of idleness. Gloomy England, immersed in
protestantism, was then called “Merrie England.” Rabelais,
Quevedo, Cervantes, and the unknown authors of the romances make
our mouths water with their pictures of those monumental feasts
[2] with which the men of that time regaled themselves between
two battles and two devastations, in which everything “went by
the barrel” Jordaens and the Flemish School have told the story
of these feasts in their delightful pictures. Where, O, where,
are the sublime gargantuan stomachs of those days; where are the
sublime brains encircling all human thought? We have indeed
grown puny and degenerate. Embalmed beef, potatoes, doctored
wine and Prussian schnaps, judiciously combined with compulsory
labor have weakened our bodies and narrowed our minds. And the
times when man cramps his stomach and the machine enlarges its
out-put are the very times when the economists preach to us the
Malthusian theory, the religion of abstinence and the dogma of
work. Really it would be better to pluck out such tongues and
throw them to the dogs.
Because the working class, with its simple good faith, has
allowed itself to be thus indoctrinated, because with its native
impetuosity it has blindly hurled itself into work and
abstinence, the capitalist class has found itself condemned to
laziness and forced enjoyment, to unproductiveness and over
consumption. But if the over-work of the laborer bruises his
flesh and tortures his nerves, it is also fertile in griefs for
the capitalist.
The abstinence to which the productive class condemns itself
obliges the capitalists to devote themselves to the over-consumption
of the products turned out so riotously by the laborers. At the
beginning of capitalist production a century or two ago, the
capitalist was a steady man of reasonable and peaceable habits.
He contented himself with one wife or thereabouts. He drank only
when he was thirsty and ate only when he was hungry. He left to
the lords and ladies of the court the noble virtues of
debauchery. Today every son of the newly rich makes it incumbent
upon himself to cultivate the disease for which quicksilver is a
specific in order to justify the labors imposed upon the workmen
in quicksilver mines; every capitalist crams himself with capons
stuffed with truffles and with the choicest brands of wine in
order to encourage the breeders of blooded poultry and the
growers of Bordelais. In this occupation the organism rapidly
becomes shattered, the hair falls out, the gums shrink away from
the teeth, the body becomes deformed, the stomach obtrudes
abnormally, respiration becomes difficult, the motions become
labored, the joints become stiff, the fingers knotted. Others,
too feeble in body to endure the fatigues of debauchery, but
endowed with the bump of philanthropic discrimination, dry up
their brains over political economy, or juridical philosophy in
elaborating thick soporific books to employ the leisure hours of
compositors and pressmen. The women of fashion live a life of
martyrdom, in trying on and showing off the fairy-like toilets
which the seamstresses die in making. They shift like shuttles
from morning until night from one gown into another. For hours
together they give up their hollow heads to the artists in hair,
who at any cost insist on assuaging their passion for the
construction of false chignons. Bound in their corsets, pinched
in their boots, decollette to make a coal-miner blush, they
whirl around the whole night through at their charity balls in
order to pick up a few cents for poor people, – sanctified souls!
To fulfill his double social function of non-producer and over-consumer,
the capitalist was not only obliged to violate his modest taste,
to lose his laborious habits of two centuries ago and to give
himself up to unbounded luxury, spicy indigestibles and
syphilitic debauches, but also to withdraw from productive labor
an enormous mass of men in order to enlist them as his
assistants.
Here are a few figures to prove how colossal is this waste of
productive forces. According to the census of 1861, the
population of England and Wales comprised 20,066,244 persons,
9,776,259 male and 10,289,965 female. If we deduct those too old
of too young to work, the unproductive women, boys and girls,
then the “ideological professions”, such as governors, policemen,
clergy, magistrates, soldiers, prostitutes, artists, scientists,
etc., next the people exclusively occupied with eating the labor
of others under the form of land-rent, interest, dividends, etc.
... there remains a total of eight million individuals of both
sexes and of every age, including the capitalists who function
in production, commerce, finance, etc. Out of these eight
millions the figures run:
|
Agricultural laborers, including
herdsmen, servants and farmers’ daughters living at home |
1,098,261 |
|
Factory Workers in cotton, wool,
hemp, linen silk, knitting |
642,607 |
|
Mine Workers |
565,835 |
|
Metal Workers (blast furnaces,
rolling mills, etc.) |
396,998 |
“If we add together the textile workers and the
miners, we obtain the figures of 2,208,442; if to the former we
add the metal workers, we have a total of 1,039,605 persons;
that is to say, in each case a number below that of the modern
domestic slaves. Behold the magnificent result of the capitalist
exploitation of machines.” [3] To this class of domestics, the
size of which indicates the stage attained by capitalist
civilization, must still be added the enormous class of
unfortunates devoted exclusively to satisfying the vain and
expensive tastes of the rich dasses: diamond cutters, lace-makers,
embroiderers, binders of luxurious books, seamstresses employed
on expensive gowns decorators of villas, etc. [4]
Once settled down into absolute laziness and demoralized by
enforced enjoyment, the capitalist class in spite of the injury
involved in its new kind of life, adapted itself to it. Soon it
began to look upon any change with horror. The sight of the
miserable conditions of life resignedly accepted by the working
class and the sight of the organic degradation engendered by the
depraved passion for work increased its aversion for all
compulsory labor and all restrictions of its pleasures. It is
precisely at that time that, without taking into account the
demoralization which the capitalist class had imposed upon
itself as a social duty, the proletarians took it into their
heads to inflict work on the capitalists Artless as they were,
they took seriously the theories of work proclaimed by the
economists and moralists, and girded up their loins to inflict
the practice of these theories upon the capitalists. The
proletariat hoisted the banner, “He who will not work Neither
shall he Eat”. Lyons in 1831 rose up for bullets or work. The
federated laborers of March 1871 called their uprising “The
Revolution of Work”. To these outbreaks of barbarous fury
destructive of all capitalist joy and laziness, the capitalists
had no other answer than ferocious repression, but they know
that if they have been able to repress these revolutionary
explosions, they have not drowned in the blood of these gigantic
massacres the absurd idea of the proletariat wishing to inflict
work upon the idle and reputable classes, and it is to avert
this misfortune that they surround themselves with guards,
policemen, magistrates and jailors, supported in laborious
unprodutiveness. There is no more room for illusion as to the
function of modern, armies. They are permanently maintained only
to suppress the “enemy within”. Thus the forts of Paris and
Lyons have not been built to defend the city against the
foreigner, but to crush it in case of revolt. And if an
unanswerable example be called for, we mention the army of
Belgium, that paradise of capitalism. Its neutrality is
guaranteed by the European powers, and nevertheless its army is
one of the strongest in proportion to its population. The
glorious battlefields of the brave Belgian army are the plains
of the Borinage and of Charleroi. It is in the blood of the
unarmed miners and laborers that the Belgian officers temper
their swords and win their epaulets. The nations of Europe have
not national armies but mercenary armies. They protect the
capitalists against the popular fury which would condemn them to
ten hours of mining or spinning. Again, while compressing its
own stomach the working class has developed abnormally the
stomach of the capitalist class, condemned to over-consumption.
For alleviation of its painful labor the capitalist class has
withdrawn from the working class a mass of men far superior to
those still devoted to useful production and has condemned them
in their turn to unproductiveness and over-consumption. But this
troop of useless mouths in spite of its insatiable voracity,
does not suffice to consume all the goods which the laborers,
brutalized by the dogma of work, produce like madmen, without
wishing to consume them and without even thinking whether people
will be found to consume them.
Confronted with this double madness of the laborers killing
themselves with over-production and vegetating in abstinence,
the great problem of capitalist production is no longer to find
producers and to multiply their powers but to discover consumers,
to excite their appetites and create in them fictitious needs.
Since the European laborers, shivering with cold and hunger,
refuse to near the stuffs they weave, to drink the wines from
the vineyards they tend, the poor manufacturers in their
goodness of heart must run to the ends of the earth to find
people to wear the clothes and drink the wines: Europe exports
every year goods amounting to billions of dollars to the four
corners of the earth, to nations that have no need of them. [5]
But the explored continents are no longer vast enough. Virgin
countries are needed. European manufacturers dream night and day
of Africa, of a lake in the Saharan desert, of a railroad to the
Soudan. They anxiously follow the progress of Livingston,
Stanley, Du Chaillu; they listen open-mouthed to the marvelous
tales of these brave travelers. What unknown wonders are
contained in the “dark continent”! Fields are sown with
elephants’ teeth, rivers of cocoanut oil are dotted with gold,
millions of backsides, as bare as the faces of Dufaure and
Girardin, are awaiting cotton goods to teach them decency, and
bottles of schnaps and bibles from which they may learn the
virtues of civilization.
But all to no purpose: the over-fed capitalist, the servant
class greater in numbers than the productive class, the foreign
and barbarous nations, gorged with European goods; nothing,
nothing can melt away the mountains of products heaped up higher
and more enormous than the pyramids of Egypt. The productiveness
of European laborers defies all consumption, all waste.
The manufacturers have lost their bearings and know not which
way to turn. They can no longer find the raw material to satisfy
the lawless depraved passion of their laborers for work. In our
woolen districts dirty and half rotten rags are raveled out to
use in making certain cloths sold under the name of renaissance,
which have about the same durability as the promises made to
voters. At Lyons, instead of leaving the silk fiber in its
natural simplicity and suppleness, it is loaded down with
mineral salts, which while increasing its weight, make it
friable and far from durable. All our products are adulterated
to aid in their sale and shorten their life. Our epoch will be
called the “Age of adulteration” just as the first epochs of
humanity received the names of “The Age of Stone”, “The Age of
Bronze”, from the character of their production. Certain
ignorant people accuse our pious manufacturers of fraud, while
in reality the thought which animates them is to furnish work to
their laborers, who cannot resign themselves to living with
their arms folded. These adulterations, whose sole motive is a
humanitarian sentiment, but which bring splendid profits to the
manufacturers who practice them, if they are disastrous for the
quality of the goods, if they are an inexhaustible source of
waste in human labor, nevertheless prove the ingenuous
philanthropy of the capitalists, and the horrible perversion of
the laborers, who to gratify their vice for work oblige the
manufacturers to stifle the cries of their conscience and to
violate even the laws of commercial honesty.
And nevertheless, in spite of the over-production of goods, in
spite of the adulterations in manufacturing, the laborers
encumber the market in countless numbers imploring: Work! Work!
Their super abundance ought to compel them to bridle their
passion; on the contrary it carries it to the point of paroxysm.
Let a chance for work present itself, thither they rush; then
they demand twelve, fourteen hours to glut their appetite for
work, and the next day they are again thrown out on the pavement
with no more food for their vice. Every year in all industries
lockouts occur with the regularity of the seasons. Over-work,
destructive of the organism, is succeeded by absolute rest
during two or four months, and when work ceases the pittance
ceases. Since the vice of work is diabolically attached to the
heart of the laborers, since its requirements stifle all the
other instincts of nature, since the quantity of work required
by society is necessarily limited by consumption and by the
supply of raw materials, why devour in six months the work of a
whole year; why not distribute it uniformly over the twelve
months and force every workingman to content himself with six or
five hours a day throughout the year instead of getting
indigestion from twelve hours during six months. Once assured of
their daily portion of work, the laborers will no longer be
jealous of each other, no longer fight to snatch away work from
each other's hands and bread from each other’s mouths, and then,
not exhausted in body and mind, they will begin to practice the
virtues of laziness.
Brutalized by their vice, the laborers have been unable to rise
to the conception of this fact, that to have work for all it is
necessary to apportion it like water on a ship in distress.
Meanwhile certain manufacturers in the name of capitalist
exploitation have for a long time demanded a legal limitation of
the work day. Before the commission of 1860 on professional
education, one of the greatest manufacturers of Alsace, M.
Bourcart of Guebwiller, declared: “The day of twelve hours is
excessive and ought to be reduced to eleven, while work ought to
be stopped at two o’clock on Saturday. I advise the adoption of
this measure, although it may appear onerous at first sight. We
have tried it in our industrial establishments for four years
and find ourselves the better for it, while the average
production, far from having diminished, has increased.” In his
study of machines M.F. Passy quotes the following letter from a
great Belgian manufacturer M. Ottevaere: “Our machines, although
the same as those of the English spinning mills, do not produce
what they ought to produce or what those same machines would
produce in England, although the spinners there work two hours a
day less. We all work two good hours too much. I am convinced
that if we worked only eleven hours instead of thirteen we
should have the same product and we should consequently produce
more economically.” Again, M. Leroy Beaulieu affirms that it is
a remark of a great Belgian manufacturer that the weeks in which
a holiday falls result in a product not less than ordinary weeks.
[6]
An aristocratic government has dared to do what a people, duped
in their simplicity by the moralists, never dared. Despising the
lofty and moral industrial considerations of the economists, who
like the birds of ill omen, croaked that to reduce by one hour
the work in factories was to decree the ruin of English industry,
the government of England has forbidden by a law strictly
enforced to work more than ten hours a day, and as before
England remains the first industrial nation of the world.
The experiment tried on so great a scale is on record; the
experience of certain intelligent capitalists is on record. They
prove beyond a doubt that to strengthen human production it is
necessary to reduce the hours of labor and multiply the pay days
and feast days, yet the French nation is not convinced. But if
the miserable reduction of two hours has increased English
production by almost one-third in ten years, what breathless
speed would be given to French production by a legal limitation
of the working day to three hours. Cannot the laborers
understand that by over-working themselves they exhaust their
own strength and that of their progeny, that they are used up
and long before their time come to be incapable of any work at
ail, that absorbed and brutalized by this single vice they are
no longer men but pieces of men, that they kill within
themselves all beautiful faculties, to leave nothing alive and
flourishing except the furious madness for work. Like Arcadian
parrots, they repeat the lesson of the economist: “Let us work,
let us work to increase the national wealth.” O, idiots, it is
because you work too much that the industrial equipment develops
slowly. Stop braying and listen to an economist, no other than
M.L.Reybaud, whom we were fortunate enough to lose a few months
ago. “It is in general by the conditions of hand-work that the
revolution in methods of labor is regulated. As long as handwork
furnishes its services at a low price, it is lavished, while
efforts are made to economize it when its services become more
costly.” [7]
To force the capitalists to improve their machines of wood and
iron it is necessary to raise wages and diminish the working
hours of the machines of flesh and blood. Do you ask for proofs?
They can be furnished by the hundreds. In spinning, the self-acting
mule was invented and applied at Manchester because the spinners
refused to work such long hours as before. In America the
machine is invading all branches of farm production, from the
making of butter to the weeding of wheat. Why, because the
American, free and lazy, would prefer a thousand deaths to the
bovine life of the French peasant. Plowing, so painful and so
crippling to the laborer in our glorious France, is in the
American West an agreeable open-air pastime, which he practices
in a sitting posture, smoking his pipe nonchalantly.
Footnotes
[1] Under the old regime, the laws of the church guaranteed the
laborer ninety rest days, fifty-two Sundays and thirty-eight
holidays, during which he was strictly forbidden to work. This
was the great crime of catholicism, the principal cause of the
irreligion of the industrial and commercial bourgeoisie: under
the revolution, when once it was in the saddle, it abolished the
holidays and replaced the week of seven days by that of ten, in
order that the people might no longer have more than one rest
day out of the ten. It emancipated the laborers from the yoke of
the church in order the better to subjugate them under the yoke
of work.
The hatred against the holidays does not appear until the modern
industrial and commercial bourgeoisie takes definite form,
between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Henry IV asked of
the Pope that they be reduced. He refused because “one of the
current heresies of the day is regarding feasts” (Letters of
Cardinal d’Ossat). But in 1666 Perefixus, archbishop of Paris,
suppressed seventeen of them in his diocese. Protestantism,
which was the Christian religion adapted to the new industrial
and commercial needs of the bourgeoisie, was less solicitous for
the people’s rest. It dethroned the saints in heaven in order to
abolish their feast days on earth.
Religious reform and philosophical free thought were but
pretexts which permitted the jesuitical and rapacious
bourgeoisie to pilfer the feast days of the people.
[2] These gigantic feasts lasted for weeks. Don Rodrigo de Lara
wins his bride by expelling the Moors from old Calatrava, and
the Romancero relates the story:
les bodas fueron en Burgos
Las tornabodas en Salas:
En bodas y tornabodas
Pasaron slete semanas
Tantas vienen de las gentes
Que no caben por las plazas
(The wedding was at Bourges, the infaring at Salas. In the
wedding and the infaring seven weeks were spent. So many people
came that the town could not hold them ...)
The men of these seven-weeks weddings were the heroic soldiers
of the wars of independence.
[3] Karl Marx’s Capital.
[4] “The Proportion in which the population of the country is
employed as domestics in the service of the wealthy class
indicates its progress in national wealth and civilization.” (R.M.
Martin, Ireland Before and After the Union, 1818). Gambetta, who
has denied that there was a social question ever since he ceased
to be the poverty-stricken lawyer or the Cafe Procope,
undoubtedly alluded to this ever-increasing domestic class when
he announced the advent of new social strata.
[5] Two examples: The English government to satisfy the peasants
of India, who in spite of the periodical famines desolating
their country insist on cultivating poppies instead of rice or
wheat, has been obliged to undertake bloody wars in order to
impose upon the Chinese Government the free entry of Indian
opium. The savages of Polynesia. in spite of the mortality
resulting from it are obliged to clothe themselves in the
English fashion in order to consume the products of the Scotch
distilleries and the Manchester cotton mills.
[6] Paul Leroy-Beaulieu, La Question Ouvrière au XIX siècle,
1872.
[7] Louis Reybaud, Le coton, son regime, ses problèmes (1863).
Chapter IV
New Songs to New Music
We have seen that by diminishing the hours of labor new
mechanical forces will be conquered for social production.
Furthermore, by obliging the laborers to consume their products
the army of workers will be immensely increased. The capitalist
class once relieved from its function of universal consumer will
hasten to dismiss its train of soldiers, magistrates,
journalists, procurers, which it has withdrawn from useful labor
to help it in consuming and wasting. Then the labor market will
overflow. Then will be required an iron law to put a limit on
work. It will be impossible to find employment for that swarm of
former unproductives, more numerous than insect parasites, and
after them must be considered all those who provide for their
needs and their vain and expensive tastes. When there are no
more lackeys and generals to decorate, no more free and married
prostitutes to be covered with laces, no more cannons to bore,
no more palaces to build, there will be need of severe laws to
compel the working women and working men who have been employed
on embroidered laces, iron workings, buildings, to take the
hygienic and calisthenic exercises requisite to re-establish
their health and improve their race. When once we begin to
consume European products at home instead of sending them to the
devil, it will be necessary that the sailors, dock handlers and
the draymen sit down and learn to twirl their thumbs. The happy
Polynesians may then love as they like without fearing the
civilized Venus and the sermons of European moralists.
And that is not all: In order to find work for all the non-producers
of our present society, in order to leave room for the
industrial equipment to go on developing indefinitely, the
working class will be compelled, like the capitalist class, to
do violence to its taste for abstinence and to develop
indefinitely its consuming capacities. Instead of eating an
ounce or two of gristly meat once a day, when it eats any, it
will eat juicy beefsteaks of a pound or two; instead of drinking
moderately of bad wine, it will become more orthodox than the
pope and will drink broad and deep bumpers of Bordeaux and
Burgundy without commercial baptism and will leave water to the
beasts.
The proletarians have taken into their heads to inflict upon the
capitalists ten hours of forge and factory; that is their great
mistake, because of social antagonisms and civil wars. Work
ought to be forbidden and not imposed. The Rothschilds and other
capitalists should be allowed to bring testimony to the fact
that throughout their whole lives they have been perfect
vagabonds, and if they swear they wish to continue to live as
perfect vagabonds in spite of the general mania for work, they
should be pensioned and should receive every morning at the city
hall a five-dollar gold piece for their pocket money. Social
discords will vanish. Bond holders and capitalists will be first
to rally to the popular party, once convinced that far from
wishing them harm, its purpose is rather to relieve them of the
labor of over-consumption and waste, with which they have been
overwhelmed since their birth. As for the capitalists who are
incapable of proving their title to the name of vagabond, they
will be allowed to follow their instincts. There are plenty of
disgusting occupations in which to place them. Dufaure might be
set at cleaning public closets, Gallifet [1] might perform
surgical operations on diseased horses and hogs. The members of
the amnesty commission might be sent to the stockyards to pick
out the oxen and the sheep to be slaughtered. The senators might
play the part of undertakers and lackeys in funeral processions.
As for the others, occupations could be found for them on a
level with their intelligence. Lorgeril and Eroglie could cork
champagne bottles, only they would have to be muzzled as a
precaution against intoxication. Ferry, Freycinet and Tirard
might destroy the bugs and vermin in the departments of state
and other public houses. It would, however, be necessary to put
the public funds out of the reach of the capitalists out of due
regard for their acquired habits.
But vengeance, harsh and prolonged, will be heaped upon the
moralists who have perverted nature. The bigots, the canters,
the hypocrites, +and other such sects of men who disguise
themselves like maskers to deceive the world. For whilst they
give the common people to understand that they are busied about
nothing but contemplation and devotion in fastings and
maceration of their sensuality, – and that only to sustain and
aliment the small fraility of their humanity, – it is so far
otherwise that on the contrary, God knows, what cheer they make;
et Curies simulant, sed Bacchanalia vivunt. [2] You may read it
in great letters, in the coloring of their red snouts, and
gulching bellies as big as a tun, unless it be when they perfume
themselves with sulphur.+ [3] On the days of great popular
rejoicing, when instead of swallowing dust as on the 15th of
August and 14th of July under capitalism, the communists and
collectivists will eat, drink and dance to their hearts' content,
the members of the Academy, of moral and political sciences, the
priests with long robes and short, of the economic, catholic,
protestant, jewish, positivist and free-thought church; the
propagandists of Malthusianism, and of Christian, altruistic,
independent or dependent ethics, clothed in yellow, shall be
compelled to hold a candle until it bums their fingers, shall
starve in sight of tables loaded with meats, fruits and flowers
and shall agonize with thirst in sight of flowing hogsheads.
Four times a year with the changing seasons they shall be shut
up like the knife grinders' dogs in great wheels and condemned
to grind wind for ten hours.
The lawyers and legislators shall suffer the same punishment.
Under the regime of idleness, to kill the time, which kills us
second by second, there will be shows and theatrical
performances always and always. And here we have the very work
for our bourgeois legislators. We shall organize them into
traveling companies to go to the fairs and villages, giving
legislative exhibitions. The generals in riding boots, their
breasts brilliantly decorated with medals and crosses, shall go
through the streets and courts levying recruits among the good
people. Gambetta and his comrade Cassagnac shall tend door.
Cassagnac, in full duellist costume, rolling his eyes and
twisting his mustache, spitting out burning tow, shall threaten
every one with his father’s pistol [4] and sink into a hole as
soon as they show him Lullier’s portrait. Gambetta will
discourse on foreign politics and on little Greece, who makes a
doctor of him and would set Europe on fire to pilfer Turkey; on
great Russia that stultifies him with the mincemeat she promises
to make of Prussia and who would fain see mischief brewing in
the west of Europe so as to feather her nest in the east and to
strangle nihilism at home; on Mr. Bismark who was good enough to
allow him to pronounce himself on the amnesty ... then
uncovering his mountainous belly smeared over with red and white
and blue, the three national colors, he will beat the tattoo on
it, and enumerate the delicate little ortolans, the truffles and
the glasses of Margaux and Y'quem that it has gulped down to
encourage agriculture, and to keep his electors of Belleville in
good spirits.
In the barracks the entertainment will open with the +Electoral
Farce.+
In the presence of the voters with wooden heads and asses’ ears,
the bourgeois candidates, dressed as clowns, will dance the
dance of political liberties, wiping themselves fore and aft
with their freely promising electoral programs, and talking with
tears in their eyes of the miseries of the people and with
copper in their voices of the glories of France. Then the heads
of the voters will bray solidly in chorus, hi han! hi han!
Then will start the great play, The Theft of the Nation’s Goods.
Capitalist France, an enormous female, hairy-faced and bald-headed,
fat, flabby, puffy and pale, with sunken eyes, sleepy and
yawning, is stretching herself out on a velvet couch. At her
feet Industrial Capitalism, a gigantic organism of iron, with an
ape-like mask, is mechanically devouring men, women and children,
whose thrilling and heart-rending cries fill the air; the bank
with a marten’s muzzle; a hyena’s body and harpy-hands, is
nimbly flipping coins out of his pocket. Hordes of miserable,
emaciated proletarians in rags, escorted by gendarmes with drawn
sabers, pursued by furies lashing them with whips of hunger, are
bringing to the feet of capitalist France heaps of merchandise,
casks of wine, sacks of gold and wheat. Langlois, his nether
garment in one hand, the testament of Proudhon in the other and
the book of the national budget between his teeth, is encamped
at the head of the defenders of national property and is
mounting guard. When the laborers, beaten with gun stocks and
pricked with bayonets, have laid down their burdens, they are
driven away and the door is opened to the manufacturers,
merchants and bankers. They hurl themselves pell mell upon the
heap, devouring cotton goods, sacks of wheat, ingots of gold,
emptying casks of wine. When they have devoured all they can,
they sink down, filthy and disgusting objects in their ordure
and vomitings. Then the thunder bursts forth, the earth shakes
and opens, Historic Destiny arises, with her iron foot she
crushes the heads of the capitalists, hiccoughing, staggering,
falling, unable to flee. With her broad hand she overthrows
capitalist France, astounded and sweating with fear.
If, uprooting from its heart the vice which dominates it and
degrades its nature, the working class were to arise in its
terrible strength, not to demand the Rights of Man, which are
but the rights of capitalist exploitation, not to demand the
Right to Work which is but the right to misery, but to forge a
brazen law forbidding any man to work more than three hours a
day, the earth, the old earth, trembling with joy would feel a
new universe leaping within her. But how should we ask a
proletariat corrupted by capitalist ethics, to take a manly
resolution ...
Like Christ, the doleful personification of ancient slavery, the
men, the women and the children of the proletariat have been
climbing painfully for a century up the hard Calvary of pain;
for a century compulsory toil has broken their bones, bruised
their flesh, tortured their nerves; for a century hunger has
torn their entrails and their brains. 0 Laziness, have pity on
our long misery! O Laziness, mother of the arts and noble
virtues, be thou the balm of human anguish!
Footnotes
[1] Gallifet was the general who was directly responsible for
the massacre of thousands or French workingmen at the closing
days of the Paris Commune.
[2] They simulate Curius but live like Bacchanals. (Juvenal.)
[3] Rabelais, Pantagruel, Book II, Chapter XXXIV. Translation or
Urquhart and Motteux.
[4] Paul de Cassagnac, like his father, Orsnier, was prominent
as a conservative politician, journalist and duellist.
APPENDIX
Our moralists are very modest people. If they invented the dogma
of work, they still have doubts of its efficacy in tranquilizing
the soul, rejoicing the spirit, and maintaining the proper
functioning of the entrails and other organs. They wish to try
its workings on the populace, in animca vili, before turning it
against the capitalists, to excuse and authorize whose vices is
their peculiar mission.
But, you, three-for-a-cent philosophers, why thus cudgel your
brains to work out an ethics the practice of which you dare not
counsel to your masters? Your dogma of work, of which you are so
proud, do you wish to see it scoffed at, dishonored? Let us open
the history of ancient peoples and the writings of their
philosophers and law givers. “I could not affirm,” says the
father of history, Herodotus, “whether the Creeks derived from
the Egyptians the contempt which they have for work, because I
find the same contempt established among the Thracians, the
Cythians, the Persians, the Lydians; in a word, because among
most barbarians, those who learn mechanical arts and even their
children are regarded as the meanest of their citizens. All the
Greeks have been nurtured in this principle, particularly the
Lacedaemonians.” [1]
“At Athens the citizens were veritable nobles who had to concern
themselves but with the defense and the administration of the
community, like the savage warriors from whom they descended.
Since they must thus have all their time free to watch over the
interests of the republic, with their mental and bodily strength,
they laid all labor upon the slaves. Likewise at Lacedaemon,
even the women were not allowed to spin or weave that they might
not detract from their nobility.” [2]
The Romans recognized but two noble and free professions,
agriculture and arms. All the citizens by right lived at the
expense of the treasury without being constrained to provide for
their living by any of the sordid arts (thus, they designated
the trades), which rightfully belonged to slaves. The elder
Brutus to arouse the people, accused Tarquin, the tyrant, of the
special outrage of having converted free citizens into artisans
and masons. [3]
The ancient philosophers had their disputes upon the origin of
ideas but they agreed when it came to the abhorrence of work. “Nature,”
said Plato in his social utopia, his model republic, “Nature has
made no shoemaker nor smith. Such occupations degrade the people
who exercise them. Vile mercenaries, nameless wretches, who are
by their very condition excluded from political rights. As for
the merchants accustomed to lying and deceiving, they will be
allowed in the city only as a necessary evil. The citizen who
shall have degraded himself by the commerce of the shop shall be
prosecuted for this offense. If he is convicted, he shall be
condemned to a year in prison; the punishment shall be doubled
for each repeated offense.” [4]
In his Economics, Xenophon writes, “The people who give
themselves up to manual labor are never promoted to public
offices, and with good reason. The greater part of them,
condemned to be seated the whole day long, some even to endure
the heat of the fire continually, cannot fail to be changed in
body, and it is almost inevitable that the mind be affected.”
“What honorable thing can come out of a shop?” asks Cicero.
“What can commerce produce in the way of honor? Everything
called shop is unworthy an honorable man. Merchants can gain no
profit without lying, and what is more shameful than falsehood?
Again, we must regard as something base and vile the trade of
those who sell their toil and industry, for whoever gives his
labor for money sells himself and puts himself in the tank of
slaves.” [5]
Proletarians, brutalized by the dogma of work, listen to the
voice of these philosophers, which has been concealed from you
with jealous care: A citizen who gives his labor for money
degrades himself to the rank of slaves, he commits a crime which
deserves years of imprisonment.
Christian hypocrisy and capitalist utilitarianism had not
perverted these philosophers of the ancient republics. Speaking
for free men, they expressed their thought naively. Plato,
Aristotle, those intellectual giants, beside whom our latter day
philosophers are but pygmies, wish the citizens of their ideal
republics to live in the most complete leisure, for as Xenophon
observed, “Work takes all the time and with it one has no
leisure for the republic and his friends.” According to Plutarch,
the great claim of Lycurgus, wisest of men, to the admiration of
posterity, was that he had granted leisure to the citizens of
Sparta by forbidding to them any trade whatever. But our
moralists of Christianity and capitalism will answer, “These
thinkers and philosophers praised the institution of slavery.”
Perfectly true, but could it have been otherwise, granted the
economic and political conditions of their epoch? War was the
normal state of ancient societies. The free man was obliged to
devote his time to discussing the affairs of state and watching
over its defense. The trades were then too primitive and clumsy
for those practicing them to exercise their birth-right of
soldier and citizen; thus the philosophers and law-givers, if
they wished to have warriors and citizens in their heroic
republics, were obliged to tolerate slaves. But do not the
moralists and economists of capitalism praise wage labor, the
modern slavery; and to what men does the capitalist slavery give
leisure? To people like Rothschild, Schneider, and Madame
Boucicaut, useless and harmful slaves of their vices and of
their domestic servants. “The prejudice of slavery dominated the
minds of Pythagoras and Aristotle,” – this has been written
disdainfully; and yet Aristotle foresaw: “that if every tool
could by itself execute its proper function, as the masterpieces
of Daedalus moved themselves or as the tripods of Vulcan set
themselves spontaneously at their sacred work; if for example
the shuttles of the weavers did their own weaving, the foreman
of the workshop would have no more need of helpers, nor the
master of slaves.”
Aristotle’s dream is our reality. Our machines, with breath of
fire, with limbs of unwearying steel, with fruitfulness,
wonderful inexhaustible, accomplish by themselves with docility
their sacred labor. And nevertheless the genius of the great
philosophers of capitalism remains dominated by the prejudice of
the wage system, worst of slaveries. They do not yet understand
that the machine is the saviour of humanity, the god who shall
redeem man from the sordidae artes and from working for hire,
the god who shall give him leisure and liberty.
Footnotes
[1] Herodotus. Book II.
[2] Biot. De l’abolition de l’esclavage ancien en Occident,
1840.
[3] Livy, Book I.
[4] Plato’s Republic, Book V.
[5] Cicero’s De Officilis, I, 42.
Part 1 / Part 2
|