“You don’t dare say: ‘It is sweet to die for Havemeyer,’ as many Americans died during the Sugar Trust war to ‘free Cuba.’
“You don’t say: ‘It is sweet to die for Guggenheim or Morgan,’ as many Americans would have died if Taft’s army had crossed the Rio Grande.
“You don’t say: ‘It is sweet to die for the Tobacco and other trusts,’ as many Americans died during the war with the Philippines.
“You don’t dare say any of these things, because you know, if you did, you would not get a recruit. You know you would be more likely to get the boot.”
We Socialists, who make these charges, know they are serious. They are as serious as we know how to make them. If they lack any of the seriousness they should have, it is because we lack some of the vocabulary we should have. The facts upon which the charges are made are serious enough to justify the full use of any vocabulary ever made. The facts are the facts of colossal murder for gain. And they are as old as history.
The small rich class that lives in luxury from the labor of the great poor class has a reason for clinging to the control of government. That reason is not far to seek. Without the control of government, the small, rich class would not be rich. Government, in the hands of the rich, is a sort of two-handed claw with which golden chestnuts are pulled out of the fire. One claw is the governmental power to make and enforce laws. The other claw is the power to grab by force that which cannot be grabbed by laws.
One nation cannot make laws for another nation. But the capitalists of one nation may possess property that is wanted by the capitalists of another nation. Or the capitalists of one nation may see a great opportunity for personal profit in transferring to their own nation the sovereignty that another nation holds over a certain territory. That was why Great Britain made war against the Boers. Certain rich English gentlemen believed they could make more money if the British flag waved over the diamond and gold fields of the Transvaal. For no more nearly valid reason, the capitalist class of Japan made war against the capitalist class of Russia. Russia had stolen Korea and Japan wanted it. Korea belonged to the Koreans, but that made no difference. Two thieves struggled for it and one of them has it.
The moment that the capitalist class of one nation determines to rob the capitalist class of another nation, the machinery for inflaming the public mind is set in motion. This machinery consists of tongues and printing presses. Tongues and printing presses immediately begin to foment hatred. Every man in each country is made to feel that every man in the other country is his personal enemy. But that is stating it too mildly. Every man in each country is made to feel that every man in the other country is as much worse than a personal enemy as a nation is greater than an individual. Fervent appeals are made to “patriotism.” “The flag” is waved. It is not “sweet to die” for Cecil Rhodes, for Rothschild or any one else—“It is sweet to die for one’s country.” And thousands of men take the bait.
They bid farewell to their homes. They embark upon transports. They sail strange seas. They disembark upon strange shores. They see strange men. Men whom they never saw before. Men against whom they have no possible sort of grudge. Men who never harmed them. Men whom they never harmed. Common workingmen, like themselves.
But they shoot these men and are shot by these men. They spill each other’s blood. They break each other’s bones. They break the hearts of each other’s families. And, when one army or the other has been crippled beyond further fighting, there is peace. The peace of the sword! The peace of death! The peace that leaves the working classes of both countries poorer and the capitalist class of only one country richer.