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5. PART FIVE
ATTEMPTS TO RESTRICT THE INFLUENCE OF THE LEADERS

1. CHAPTER I
THE REFERENDUM

IN the domain of public law, democracy attains it culminating point in that complex of institutions which exists in Switzerland, where the people possess the right of the referendum and that of the initiative. The use of the referendum is compulsory in Switzerland upon a number of questions which are statutorily determined. The legislative measures drawn up by the representative body must then be submitted to a popular vote, for acceptance or rejection. In addition, the burghers exercise the power of direct legislation. When a certain number of voters demand the repeal of an existing law or the introduction of a new one, the matter must be submitted to popular vote. These important popular rights are supplemented by the direct popular election of the supreme executive authorities, as in the United States. Although these democratic ordinances have often in actual practice proved but little democratic in their results (the referendum, above all, having frequently shown that the democratic masses possess less democratic understanding than the representative government), and although leading socialists have therefore with good reason sharply criticized these manifestations of democracy, other socialists look to these institutions for the definitive solution of all questions of public law, and for the practical contradiction of the opinion that oligarchy arises by natural necessity, contending that by the referendum and by the initiative the decisive influence in legislative matters is transferred from the representative assembly to the totality of the citizens.

Now the democratic parties, as far as their internal organization is concerned, have either failed to adopt the principles of direct popular sovereignty, or else have accepted application of these only after prolonged hesitation and in exceptional cases. From the democratic point of view they are therefore inferior to many of the Swiss cantons. For example, German social democracy does not submit the deliberations of its congresses to ratification by the party as a whole. Moreover, and here the German arrangements differ from those which obtain among the socialists of Italy, France, and England (where the vote is based upon the number of the adherents in the local branches which the delegates respectively represent), in Germany the decisions at the congress are determined by the simple majority of the delegates. Thus we have parliamentarism in place of democracy. It is true that every member of the Socialist Party has the right of submitting any motion as he pleases to the annual congress. But the initiative thus secured is purely nominal. The motions sent in by individuals are hardly ever considered, and they are never passed, and the consequence is that none but a few cranks avail themselves of this right. When the congress is actually sitting, if a new resolution is to be submitted at least ten delegates must demand it. The only institution in the modern socialist parties which corresponds to the right of initiative is that in virtue of which the executive is compelled to summon an extraordinary congress upon the demand of a certain number of the members: in Germany, fifteen sections; in Italy, not less than onetenth of all the members; in Belgium, two provincial federations or twenty sections.

In the Italian Socialist Party the referendum was practiced for a certain time, especially as regards questions upon which a preceding congress had not come to a decision, or where this decision had been insufficiently clear. From 1904 to 1906 the executive council had recourse to this means on four occasions. In one of these the question submitted was whether in the local branches the minority had the right of secession to form autonomous branches. Of the 1,458 sections consulted, 778 replied (166 for, 612 against). On another occasion it was necessary to consult the party upon the compatibility of freemasonry with socialism, and to ask whether members of the party could continue to be members of lodges. The participation of the members in this referendum was insignificant, but of the replies received, the majority were adverse to freemasonry. In the two other cases in which the referendum was employed, one related to a local Milanese question and the other to the choice of seat for a congress. Thus the use made in Italy of the referendum has been extremely restricted and the results have been mediocre. In England, many of the trade unions, after having for long made use of the referendum, have now discontinued the practice, on the ground that it led to a loss of tactical stability and was prejudicial to the finances and to the work of administration. In Germany, where, nothwithstanding the hesitation of the majority, the referendum was introduced in certain districts for the election of the delegates to the congress, it was soon perceived that those comrades alone had sufficient knowledge to participate in the election of delegates who had taken part in the meetings upon party questions and were familiar with the attitude assumed upon these by the various candidates. Consequently the application of the referendum to the election of delegates came to be regarded as a dangerous measure, tending to withdraw the electoral act from the sovereignty of the assembly. In Holland, where the referendum is obligatory for the election of the executive committee of the Socialist Party, in 1909 the participation of the rank and file in the election was so small that (notwithstanding the violent internal struggles then agitating the higher centers of the party) not more than onehalf of the members exercised their right to vote.

The history of the referendum as a democratic expedient utilized by the socialist parties may be summed up by saying that its application has been rare, and that its results have been unfortunate. The results have been bad owing to the confused manner in which the questions have been formulated and owing to the inadequate participation of the masses. The rare application within the Socialist Party of this direct appeal to the members is in remarkable contrast with the frequent use made of the referendum by the bourgeois national organism of Switzerland, and it is in flagrant contradiction with the demand which all socialists make of the state for direct legislation by the people through the initiative and right of popular veto. Where party life is concerned, the socialists for the most part reject these practical applications of democracy, using against them conservative arguments such as we are otherwise accustomed to hear only from the opponents of socialism. In articles written by socialist leaders it is ironically asked whether it would be a good thing to hand over the leadership of the party to the ignorant masses simply for love of an abstract democratic principle. The conservative has views which harmonize perfectly with the thought here expressed, but he will speak of the “state” instead of the “party.”

The referendum is open to criticism to the same extent and for the same reasons as is every other form of direct popular government. The two principal objections are the incompetence of the masses and the lack of time. Bernstein has said with good reason that even if none but the most important political and administrative questions are to be submitted to the popular vote, the happy citizen of the future will find every Sunday upon his desk such a number of interrogatories that he will soon lose all enthusiasm for the referendum. It is, however, especially in respect of questions demanding a prompt decision that the referendum proves impracticable; it conflicts with the militant character of the party, interfering with easy mobilization. Moreover, in all the more important cases, as when it is necessary to determine the attitude of the Socialist Party towards an imminent war, the use of a referendum would be rendered impossible by the forcible opposition of the state. It may be added that it is easy for the chiefs to lead the masses astray by clever phrasing of the questions, and by reserving to themselves the right of interpretation in the case of replies which are ambiguous precisely because the questions have been ambiguously posed. The referendum, through its absolute character and its withdrawal from all criticism, favors the dominion of adroit adventurers. George Sand describes the plebiscite, if not counterpoised by the intelligence of the masses, as an attack upon the liberty of the people. [270] The power of Bonapartism was, in fact, based on the referendum. [271] Votes Favorable Unfavorable Constitution of the year 1791, not submitted to popular vote Constitution of the year 1793—1,801,018 11,600 Constitution of the year III .—1,057,390 49,977 Election as Consul (year VIII) 3,012,569 3,011,007 1,562 Consul for life (1802) . 3,577,259 3,568,888 8,371 Emperor (1804) . 3,524,253 3,521,675 2,578 The institution of the referendum demands for its just working a perfectly conscientious bureaucracy, for the history of this electoral system shows with what ease its results are falsified. [272] Even if the operation should be effected strictly according to rule, the result of a referendum can never have a truly demonstrative value, for it always lacks the vivifying influence of discussion. To conclude, it may be said that it can exercise no substantial influence upon the executive.

Plebiscites of Napoleon III Election to the presidency (1848) .—5,500,000 1,590,000 (for Cavaignac) Re-elected president for 10 years (1851) .—7,500,00 Emperor (1852) .—7,800,000 —

2. CHAPTER II
THE POSTULATE OF RENUNCIATION

THE dissolution of the democratic consciousness of the leaders may doubtless be retarded, if not completely arrested, by the influence of intellectual or purely ideological factors. “So long as the guidance and representation of the party remains in the hands of persons who have grown gray in the great tradition of socialism,” [273] so long, that is to say, as the party is still dominated by vigourous socialistic idealism, it is possible that in certain conditions the leaders will retain their ancient democratic sentiments, and that they will continue to regard themselves as the servitors of the masses from whom their power is derived. We have already discussed the drastic measures that have been proposed to prevent the embourgeoisement of the leaders of proletarian origin. But it is not enough to prevent the proletarian elements among the leaders from adopting a bourgeois mode of life; it is also essential, on this line of thought, to insist upon the proletarianization of the leaders of bourgeois origin. In order to render it impossible for the socialist intellectuals to return to their former environment it has been proposed to insist that they should assimilate the tenor of their lives to that of the proletarian masses, and should thus descend to the level of their followers. It is supposed that their bourgeois instincts would undergo atrophy if their habits were to be in external respects harmonized as closely as possible with those of the proletariat.

This thesis is rooted in the records and experiences of popular history. A life in common awakens sympathy, attenuates the sentiments of class opposition, and may culminate in their entire disappearance. In the equalitarian state of Paraguay, which was founded and administered by the Jesuit order, those who were under tutelage felt themselves to be at one with the Jesuit fathers who were exploiting them, since there was no distinction between the leaders and the led in respect of clothing or general manner of life. [274] During the French Revolution, the peasantry took the castles of the nobles by storm; it was only in La Vendee that the two classes made common cause in the pitiless struggle with the centralized revolutionary government in Paris, because the patriarchal life in common, the common festivals and common hunting parties, had there effected a close psychological community between the peasants and their lords. [275] Similarly in Italian villages we do not usually find a well-marked hatred of the clergy, for the local curés, good-natured if uncultured individuals, are in no way elevated above the rest of the population, whose habits, and even whose poverty, they usually share.

Numerous measures, both material and ideal, have been proposed to prevent the formation of an oligarchy within the democratic parties. Speaking of the Italian students, Bakunin defines in the following terms the rôle which in his opinion the young refugees from the bourgeoisie ought to play in the ranks of the proletariat. “Ni quides, ni prophètes, ni instructeurs, ni docteurs, ni createurs. Aux jeunes intellectuels il convient d'être les accoucheurs de la pensée enfantée par la vie même du peuple, et d'élever les aspirations aussi inconscientes que puissantes du prolétariat de l'etat de confusion à celui de clarté.” [276] Bakunin saw clearly that in certain countries, such as Italy and Russia, the working-class movement could not possibly dispense with the aid of bourgeois intellectuals, but he desired that those who by birth were the natural adversaries of socialism should be subjected to a very strict regime when they adhered to the socialist cause. In this respect he may be considered a precursor of Tolstoi. “La vie domine la pensée et détermine la volonté.” He continues: “Si un homme, né et élevé dans un milieu bourgeois, veut devenir, sincèrement et sans phrases, l'ami et le frère des ouvriers, il doit renoncer à toutes les conditions de son existence passée, à toutes ses habitudes bourgeoises, rompre tous ses rapports de sentiment, de vanité, et d'esprit avec le monde bourgeois, et, tournant le dos à ce monde, devenant son ennemi et lui déclarant une guerre irréconciliable, se jeter entièrement, sans restriction ni reserve, dans le monde ouvrier. S'il ne trouve pas en lui une passion de justice suffisante pour lui inspirer cette résolution et ce courage, qu'il ne se trompe pas luimême et qu'il ne trompe pas le ouvriers; il ne deviendra jamais leur ami.” [277] Thus it was above all for reasons of a psychological order that Bakunin demanded from the “bourgeois socialists,” from the “intellectuals,” a complete abandonment of their former mode of life. He believed that the outer world exercises a decisive influence upon the world of mental life. Self-renunciation, sacrifice, repudiation of all the forms of bourgeois existence—such were the conditions essential to the labour leader during the long history of the Russian revolution. In 1871 Netchajeff wrote his famous revolutionary catechism, enunciating the principle that the true revolutionary must be a man “consecrated to the cause.” In the first paragraph we read: “Il n'a n'y intérêts personnels, ni affaires, ni sentiments, ni attachements, ni propriété ni même un nom. Tout en lui est absorbé par un seul intérêt exclusif, une seule pensée, une seule passion: la Révolution.” [278] Thus the aim was to attain to an absolute forgetfulness of the former bourgeois existence. Even more important than this elusory internal mortification was the external or environmental mortification which, among the Russian socialists, subsequently came to constitute the substratum of their activities, and which Bakunin described as “complete immersion in the life of the people.” [279] The suppression of bourgeois instincts, this was the postulate which long dominated the history of Russian socialism. The apostles of the revolution, who were in many cases of the highest birth, must effect this suppression, in accordance with established custom, by living “among the people,” by harmonizing their mode of life with that of the proletariat, by confounding themselves with the latter. Such was the theory of the “narodniki” or “populists,” and its practical consequences were endured with the greatest heroism. Abandoning their social position, bidding farewell to all the intellectual comforts of the town, renouncing study and bourgeois career, men of science, schoolmasters, nobles, Jewish girl-students, and young women of family, withdrew to remote villages. Working as agricultural labourers, wheelwrights, locksmiths, blacksmiths, etc., they endeavoured to acquire the most intimate knowledge of the common people, to gain their confidence, and whilst still keeping always in view the great revolutionary aim, they became the advisers of the people in the most varied conditions of their lives. [280]

After 1870 an analogous movement, thought a somewhat less extensive one, was manifest among the socialist intellectuals of other countries, and more especially among those of Italy, who for this reason were stigmatized by Marx, in a spasm of unjustified anger, as déclassés. This term, used in an insulting sense, presents the Italian socialists in a false light. Bakunin spoke of such déclassement, not as a historical fact, but as a psychological postulate of the effective socialist action of those who were not proletarians by birth. Thus in Bakunin's view the declasse was not a social outcast, a bankrupt, an ineffectual genius, in a word, an involuntary outcast, but the very opposite, a voluntary outcast, one who has deliberately broken with the society in which he was born, in order to adapt himself to a strange environment and one hostile to that in which he was himself brought up. He is an intentional déclassé, and apart from the end which he pursues he must inspire us with respect for his spirit of self-sacrifice and for the invincible firmness of his convictions. It is a historical fact, though one of which the proof cannot be attempted here, that the bourgeois leaders of the early Italian labour movement were déclassés, but that they were such almost exclusively in the sense in which the word is used by Bakunin and not in the sense in which the word is used by Marx. Carlo Cafiero, the best-known leader of the Italian section of the International, derived from an aristocratic and wealthy family, placed the whole of his considerable fortune at the disposal of the party, whilst himself leading the life of a poor Bohemian. He may be considered the prototype of such idealists. Similar political tactics, of which perhaps idealists alone are capable (and these only in periods dominated by strong collective emotion), are based upon the psychological experience that the most ominously dictatorial tendencies of the leaders can be weakened, if not altogether suppressed, by one prophylactic means alone, namely, by the artificial creation of a social homogeneity among the various strata and fragments of which the revolutionary Socialist Party is composed. It thus becomes a moral postulate that all members of the party should live more or less in the same manner. This homogeneity of life is regarded as a safety-valve against the development of oligarchical forms within the working-class parties.

In our own day the principle that the leaders should practice economic renunciation and should identify themselves with the multitude is advocated only by a few isolated romanticists who belong to the anarchist wing of the socialist movement, and even by them only in timid periphrases. A similar principle, however, continues to prevail in the form of a political postulate, for the demand is made in certain working-class sections of the French and German socialist parties that the leaders should break off all social relationships with the bourgeois world, should devote themselves entirely to the party, and should have no other companions than “regularly inscribed members.” In a Guesdist congress held in the north of France a resolution was passed that it was the duty of the socialist deputies to spend their lives among their comrades. In Germany we find traces of the same order of ideas in the absolute prohibition that members of the party shall write for the bourgeois press, or take any part whatever in bourgeois society. It is obvious that these attempts, which are inefficacious and impractical, can succeed at most in creating party fanaticism. They cannot establish identity of thought and action between the leaders and the proletarian masses.

3. CHAPTER III
SYNDICALISM AS PROPHYLACTIC

ACCORDING to the syndicalist doctrine, it is essential to transfer the revolutionary center of gravity of the proletariat from the political party to the trade union. The union is conceived as a politically neutral organism, one which does not adhere to any party, but which is socialist in inspiration and aim.

It is the great merit of the syndicalists that they have understood how disastrous would be isolated syndicalist activity, devoid of any general theory, living simply from day to day; and to have advocated with much energy the indissoluble union of the working class, organized in its trade unions, with the socialist idea as spiritus rector and as ultimate aim. The syndicalists desire (and here, for once, they agree with the Marxist politicians) to diffuse among the organized workers the conviction that the trade union cannot attain its aim except by the elimination of capitalism, that is to say, by the abolition of the existing economic order. But the syndicalists also desire (and here they are in open conflict with all the other currents of contemporary socialism) that the trade union should not merely be an asylum for socialist ideas, but that it should also directly promote socialist activity, pursuing not simply a tradeunionist policy in the amplest sense of the term, but in addition and above all a socialist policy. Syndicalism is to put an end to the dualism of the labour movement by substituting for the party, whose sole functions are politico-electoral, and for the trade union, whose sole functions are economic, a completer organism which shall represent a synthesis of the political and of the economic function. [281]

Hence it is not the purpose of syndicalism to do away with organization as the basis of the labour movement. It expressly recognizes that this basis is indispensable. The syndicalists hold, and with good reason, that the dangers of organization cannot be eliminated simply by suppressing the organization, any more than we can prevent intoxication of the blood or diseases of the circulation by withdrawing the blood from the vessels. These would be quack cures, alike fatal iri their result, for the latter would kill the human organism and the former would kill the political and social organism. The problem rather is to discover an appropriate means for reducing to a minimum the chief defect which seems inherent in organization, namely, the rule exercised by the minority over the majority. Here we find a political school, whose adherents are numerous, able, well-educated, and generous-minded, persuaded that in syndicalism it has discovered the antidote to oligarchy. But we have to ask whether the antidote to the oligarchical tendencies of organization can possibly be found in a method which is itself also rooted in the principle of representation. Does it not rather seem that this very principle is in insoluble contradiction with the antidemocratic protestations of syndicalism? In other words, is not syndicalism itself affected by a manifest antinomy?

The great significance of sydicalism is found, above all, in the clear and penetrating manner in which it has recognized the dangers of bourgeois democracy. With a genuinely scientific scepticism it has stripped away the veils which conceal the power exercised by the democracy in the state, showing that this power is really no more than the hegemony of a minority, and demonstrating that it is in acute opposition with the needs of the working class. “La démocratie prétend continuer l'exploitation des masses productrices par une oligarchie de professionnels de l'intelligence.” [282] All the struggles which international syndicalism has undertaken against the German social-democracy, against the Italian and French intellectuals, and against the trade unions constituted upon a bureaucratic basis, may be reduced in ultimate analysis to a struggle against democratic demagogy.

Syndicalism is, however, mistaken in attributing to parliamentary democracy alone the inconveniences that arise from the principle of delegation in general. Mantica is right when he says that the syndicalists themselves have not succeeded in getting rid of the mental impedimenta with which all those are burdened who belong to any party, whether it participates in parliamentary elections or rejects such participation on principle. [283] Nolens volens, the syndicalist party is nothing more than a socialist party inefficiently revised and corrected. The syndicalists wish to stop where logically there is no stoppingplace. All that the syndicalists have written upon political parties in general, and upon their big brother the Socialist Party in particular, applies to themselves as well, because it applies to all organizations as such without exception.

The more syndicalism endeavours to displace the axis of working-class policy towards syndicalist action, the greater is the danger it runs of itself degenerating into an oligarchy. Even in the revolutionary syndicalist groups the leaders have frequent opportunities of deceiving the rank and file. The treasurer of a strike, the secretary of a trade union, even the participator in a conspiracy or the leader upon a barricade, can betray those from whom they have received their instructions far more easily and with much more serious consequences than can a socialist member of parliament or municipal councilor. French syndicalists have frequently insisted with a certain violence upon what they speak of as “direct action” as the only means of bringing the working class into effective operation as an autonomous mass not represented by third persons, and of excluding è priori all representation “lqui ne peut être que trahison, déviation, embourgeoisement.” [284] But they arbitrarily restrict their one-sided theory to the political party alone, as if it were not inevitable that like causes should produce like effects when their action is displayed upon the field of the syndicalist movement. They reason as if they were immunized against the action of sociological laws of universal validity.

The organic structure of the trade unions is based upon the same foundation as that of the political party of the workers, namely, the representation of the interests of the rank and file by individuals specially elected for that purpose. In the decisive moments of the struggle for higher wages, the masses do not represent themselves but are represented by others. Trade unions without representatives, without some kind of executive, do not exist and are inconceivable.

The management of a trade union is sometimes a post of transition extremely favorable to a political career. In Germany 35 trade-union leaders sit in parliament, and in England 27. In France the two first permanent secretaries of the Metallurgical Federation have become deputies. [285] The strike, direct action by the proletariat, which the syndicalists regard as the panacea for all the ills affecting the labour movement, offers to men with a taste for political life, excellent opportunities for the display of their faculty for organization and their aptitude for command. The same may be said of the political strike, the general strike. For the professional leaders of the working-class, the economic strike is often precisely what war is for professional soldiers. Both present a good opportunity for rapid and splendid promotion. Many labour leaders have risen to extremely exalted and lucrative positions bcause they have directed a great strike, and have thus attracted the attention of the general public and of the government. The political position now [1912] occupied in England by John Burns is largely due to the celebrity he acquired as a strategist when he led the great dockers' strike in London during the year 1889. He then created a solid foundation for his subsequent popularity, and in particular he then gained the confidence of the most important categories of organized workers, and thus paved the way for his elevation from the bench of the working engineer to the rank of cabinet minister. This is one example among many which could be adduced in support of the assertion that very frequently the strike, instead of being a field of activity for the uniform and compact masses, tends rather to facilitate the process of differentiation and to favor the formation of an élite of leaders. Syndicalism is even more than socialism a fighting party. It loves the great battlefield. Can we be surprised that the syndicalists need leaders yet more than do the socialists?

The syndicalists reject the system of democractic representation and of bureaucracy. They desire to substitute for it “the more combative tactics of the revolutionary army of liberty, tactics founded upon the tried ability of the leaders.” The modern labour leader, they tell us, must not be a bureaucrat. Already to-day, they add, the great strike-leaders arise suddenly from obscurity as did formerly the great leaders of revolution. In so far as it corresponds to historic truth, this conception does not at the best afford more than a general explanation of the institution of leadership. Its adequacy would be far greater were it possible to prove that these strike-leaders, whose necessity is admitted by the syndicalists themselves, when they have emerged from obscurity to fulfil a temporary need, were to prove sufficiently disinterested to undergo a spontaneous eclipse as soon as the strike was over. We know, however, that in general they seize the opportunity to secure a position of permanent influence. No form of strike, however much it may seem to be inspired by the autonomy of the masses, will be able to kill the dragon of demagogy, or even to prevent the formation of a class of independent leaders.

Under certain conditions, the mere theoretical propaganda of the idea of the strike and of direct action has sufficed to secure power and influence for the popular leader, to lift him upon the shoulders of the multitude to a position in which he could pluck at his ease the golden apples of life. Aristide Briand, born at Nantes of a family of small tavern-keepers, having joined the Socialist Party in Paris, speedily acquired fame and power among the workers by his defense of the doctrine of the general strike and the military strike. He soon gained so great a prestige as to require but a few years to climb to the position of premier of France. The starting-point of his triumphal march was the Nantes congress (1894), where he secured the acceptance of the idea of the general strike as part of the official program of the French trade unions.

Syndicalism is hostile to the “democratic” policy of the Socialist Party and the “authoritarian” syndicates, for the syndicalists hold that “democracy” affords a mere caricature of the fundamental principle of the labour movement, and they declare that from the democratic soil no fruit can spring but that of oligarchy. No other movement bases itself so energetically as does the syndicalist movement upon the right and ability of the masses for self-government. Where, as in France, the leadership of the labour movement is in their hands, they lay great stress upon the fact that their authority is restricted to carrying into effect the resolutions passed at the sovereign assemblies of the comrades. They assure us that the Confédération Générale du Travail, which sits in Paris, is not a directive organ, but a mere instrument for the coordination and the diffusion of the revolutionary activity of the working class. They describe this body as equally hostile to “centralization” and to “authoritarianism.” [286] All impulse to action, we are assured, starts from the masses, and the syndicalist leaders are merely the exponents of this impulse. In strikes, the activity of the Comité Confédéral is not directive in the strict sense of the term; this body is a mere intermediary to ensure the solidarity of the workers to secure an element of suractivité and of polarization. Such is the theory. In practice, these same French syndicalists complain that in all decisive questions the masses wait until those above take the initiative, and that in default of such initiative the comrades remain with folded arms.

As in all groups characterized by an ostensibly democratic ideology, among the syndicalists the dominion of the leaders often assumes veiled forms. In France, the trade-union leaders are forbidden to seek election as deputies, for they must be preserved from all impure contacts. They must remain in constant communication with the masses, and their activities must be carried on in the full light of day. It is none the less true that the necessities of their position often oblige them, in the interest of the trade unions, to enter into relationships with the organs of state, in such a way that their anti-parliamentary attitude is apt to mean no more than that, instead of treating with the government in the open, from the summit of the parliamentary tribune, where their actions are, in part at least, visible to the rank and file, they negotiate mysteriously out of, sight in antechambers and passages.

The theory of the masses professed by the syndicalists has a reverse side to which it is well to pay attention. The tradeunion organizations, taken as a whole, do not include in their membership more than a minority of the workers susceptible of organization: in Italy, 11%; in England, 23%; in Sweden (where the proportion is highest of all), 42.21%. Among the organized workers, it is once more only a minority which plays an active part in trade-union life. The syndicalists at once lament this fact and rejoice at it, being inspired, in this respect, by sentiments which are by no means logically consistent. They rejoice to be rid of the dead weight of those who are still indifferent or immature. No doubt this attitude is inspired by the old Blanquist idea, that masses too vast and intellectually heterogeneous paralyze all activity by their lack of mobility, and that only alert minorities are enterprising and bellicose. If they were logical, the syndicalists would draw the conclusion that the general movement of the modern proletariat must necessarily be the work of a minority of enlightened proletarians. But the democratic tendencies of our time prevent the formulation of such a conclusion, or at least prevent its frank avowal, for this would bring the syndicalists into open conflict with the very basis of democracy, and would force them to proclaim themselves, without circumlocution, partisans of an oligarchical system. The syndicalist oligarchy, it is true, would not consist (like that of the socialist party) in the dominion of the leaders over the masses, but in the dominion of a small fraction of the masses over the whole. There are a few theorists of syndicalism who already speak unreservedly of socialism as an evolution based upon the action of working-class élites. [287]

The oligarchical character of the syndicalist movement is displayed most conspicuously in the demand (made for reasons which have nothing to do with democracy) for absolute obedience to the orders of the organized élite. “Les indifférents, par le seul fait qu'ils ont négligé de formuler leur volonté, n'ont qu'à acquiescer aux décisions prises.” [288] Following the example of the reformist trade unions of Germany and England, those French unions that are inspired by the doctrine of revolutionary syndicalism hold fast to the principle that the organized workers have the right to issue orders to the unorganized.

It may be admitted that the supreme directive organs of the French labour movement do not possess that plenitude of powers which the corresponding hierarchical grades of other countries have at their disposal—above all in Germany. There are various reasons for this difference, such as the national character of the French, the weakness of the organizations, etc. But even in France there is a great difference between theory and practice. In the first place the leaders exercise a powerful influence upon the organized comrades through the newspapers, which, as every one knows, are not edited by the masses. In addition there exists a whole hierarchy of sub-chiefs. The number of trade unionists enrolled in the Confédération Général du Travail is about 350,000, whilst the number of subscribers to the “Voix du Peuple,” the central organ of the Confederation, is no more than 7,000. These subscribers are described as “les plus actifs militants, membres de bureaux et des conseils syndicaux.... Par leur intermédiare se diffuse la pensée confédérale.” [289] Here we have a frank confession that there exists a graduated intellectual subordination which conflicts with the syndicalist theory. Even the general strike was primarily conceived in France as a hierarchical procedure. A resolution voted at the Nantes congress (1894) specified that the general strike must be accurately prepared in advance by a central committee of eleven and by a large number of local sub-committees. These were to give the signal and to direct the movement. Today the syndicalists reject this conception on account of its jacobin character; but in practice they are compelled to conform to the idea, notwithstanding the theoretical contradiction in which they are thus involved. In the works of some of the French syndicalist writers who have a strong tendency towards aestheticism, such as Edouard Berth, we find that the jacobin germs of the theory in question have undergone a full development.

The more syndicalism gathers power, the more conspicuous among the syndicalists become the effects which are everywhere characteristic of the representative system. From the ranks of the French syndicalists, leaders have already sprung whose sensitiveness towards the criticisms of their followers can be equalled only by that of an English trade-union leader. Youthful syndicalism, although born out of opposition to the authoritarianism of the leaders, is thus quite unable to escape the oligarchical tendencies which arise in every organization. For the syndicalist leaders, as for others, the preservation of their own power becomes the supreme law. So far has the process already gone in France, that they have abandoned the old tactics of taking advantage of the prosecutions instituted against them by the government to make propagandist speeches in court and to employ the language of heroes and prophets. Instead, on these occasions, they act with extreme prudence and display diplomatic reserve. Sorel himself speaks of the “dégénérescence progressive du syndicalisme.” And he has declared: “La Confédération Générale du Travail prend de plus en plus l'aspect d'un gouvernement ouvrier.”

4. CHAPTER IV
ANARCHISM AS PROPHYLACTIC.

ANARCHISTS were the first to insist upon the hierarchical and oligarchical consequences of party organization. Their view of the defects of organization is much clearer than that of socialists and even than that of syndicalists. They resist authority as the source of servility and slavery, if not the source of all the ills of the world. For them constraint is “synonymous with prison and police.” [290] They know how readily the individualism of the leaders checks and paralyses the socialism of the led. In order to elude this danger, anarchists, notwithstanding the practical inconveniences entailed, have refrained from constituting a party, at least in the strict sense of the term. Their adherents are not organized under any stable form. They are not united by any discipline. They know nothing of obligations or duties, such as elections, pecuniary contributions, participation in regular meetings, and so on.

It is a necessary consequence of these peculiarities that the typical anarchist leader differs considerably from the typical socialist leader, the characteristic product of the last twentyfive years. Anarchism has no party organization which can offer lucrative positions, nor does the anarchist pathway lead to parliamentary honors. Consequently there are fewer opportunities for contagion, fewer temptations, and much less field for personal ambition. Thus it may be expected, as a logical consequence of the theory that environment makes character, that in the average anarchist leader idealism should be more conspicuous than in the average socialist leader. The anarchist lives remote from the practice of politics, with all its passions, all its appetites, and all its allurements; consequently he is more objective in his judgment of persons and of things, more contemplative, more self-enclosed—but also more of a dreamer, more remote from reality. Among anarchist leaders we find many learned, cultivated, and modest men who have not lost the sentiment of true friendship, and to whom it is a pleasure to cultivate and nourish that sentiment: sincere and high-minded men, such as Peter Kropotkin, Elisée Reclus, Christian Cornelissen, Enrico Malatesta, and many others less famous. [291] But though the anarchist leaders are as a rule morally superior to the leaders of the organized parties working in the political field, we find in them some of the qualities and pretensions characteristic of all leadership. This is proved by a psychological analysis of the characteristics of the individual anarchist leader. The theoretical struggle against all authority, against all coercion, to which many of the most eminent anarchists have sacrificed a large portion of their lives, has not stifled in them the natural love of power. All that we can say is that the means of dominion employed by the anarchist leader belong to an epoch which political parties have already outlived. These are the means utilized by the apostle and the orator: the flaming power of thought, greatness of self-sacrifice, profundity of conviction. Their dominion is exercised, not over the organization, but over minds; it is the outcome, not of technical indispensability, but of intellectual ascendancy and moral superiority.

Whilst anarchists repudiate the formation of political parties, they adhere none the less to the principle of organization in the economic field. Some of them, even, explicitly recognize the need for the technical guidance of the masses; whilst others declare their conviction that it would suffice to restrict the functions of the leaders to purely administrative work, to eliminate, once for all, the differences, so dangerous to the organization, which arise between the leaders and the led. As if the technical and administrative superiority of the leaders were not alone sufficient to establish their supremacy over the masses in all other respects! Not even Bakunin proposed to exclude the principles of organization and discipline, but he desired that they should be voluntary instead of automatic. [292] He conceived the anarchist regime as a federation of perpetual barricades, and proposed to institute a council of the revolutionary commune, consisting of delegates, one or two in number from each barricade, or from each street or quarter, these delegates having an imperative mandate. The communal council thus composed would nominate from among its own members special executive committees for all the branches of the revolutionary administration of the commune. The capital, having effected a successful insurrection and constituted itself as a commune, would then declare to the other municipalities of the country that it put forward no claim to exercise any supremacy over them. But it would invite them to provide themselves also with a revolutionary organization, and to send delegates to a meeting-place to be determined by agreement, in order to establish a federation of insurgent associations, communes, and provinces, and thus to create a revolutionary power sufficiently strong to oppose any possible reaction. As Marx justly pointed out, these executive committees, if they were to do anything at all, must be furnished with powers, and must be sustained by public force. The federal parliament would have no reason for existence unless it were to organize this public force. Besides, this parliament could, just like the communal council, delegate its executive power to one or more committees, and each of these would in fact be invested with an authoritative character which the needs of the struggle would not fail continually to accentuate. In a word, according to Marx, the whole Bakuninian scheme would be characterized by an ultra-authoritative stamp. [293]

Like the syndicalists, the anarchists have extolled “direct action,” which, they consider, possesses the value of an ethical principle. Direct action, “in contradistinction to the tactics of negotiation, of mutual compromise, of hierarchical organization, and of the representative system, tends to secure a higher standard of life for the workers, and the emancipation of the proletariat from capitalism and political centralization—to secure these advantages by the immediate self-help of the workers.” [294]

Notwithstanding this, anarchism, a movement on behalf of liberty, founded on the inalienable right of the human being over his own person, succumbs, no less than the Socialist Party, to the law of authoritarianism as soon as it abandons the region of pure thought and as soon as its adherents unite to form associations aiming at any sort of political activity. Nieuwenhuis, the veteran champion of anarchizing socialism with a frankly individualist tendency, showed on one occasion that he had a keen perception of the dangers which anarchism runs from all contact with practical life. At the Amsterdam congress of 1907, after the foundation of the new anarchist international, he raised a warning voice against the arguments of the Italian Enrico Malatesta, an anarchist attached to the school of Bakunin. Malatesta, having dilated upon the strength of bourgeois society, declared that nothing would suit this society better than to be faced by unorganized masses of workers, and that for this reason it was essential to counter the powerful organization of the rich by a still more powerful organization of the poor. “Si tel est ta pensée, cher ami,” said Nieuwenhuis to Malatesta, “tu peux t'en aller tranquillement chez les socialistes. Ils ne disent pas autre chose.” In the course of this first anarchist congress there were manifest, according to Nieuwenhuis, the symptoms of that diplomatic mentality which characterizes all the leaders of authoritarian parties. [295]

Ostrogorski has proposed to substitute for party organization, which invariably leads to the institution of anti-democratic forms, a system of temporary associations, which should come into existence only for the attainment of definite ends, and should be dissolved as soon as these ends have been secured (league system). [296] He considers that the adoption of this system would tend to restore to political struggles the sincerity, honesty, and clarity which they lack to-day. Now, the analysis of political parties which has been effected authorizes us to doubt the efficiency of the proposed method. Its adoption would not secure any real progress, even were it possible to suppress by a simple decree the organizations which have been brought into existence by the necessary determinants of historical evolution. Whilst anarchism, which presents to us the most abstract and most idealistic vision of the future, has promised to the world an order from which all concentration of power shall be excluded, it has not known how to establish, as a part of anarchist theory, the logical elements of such an order. [297]