Kaiser Wilhelm II early realized the menace to the state of these enemies of patriotism and of all bourgeois states. In a much quoted speech he termed the Socialists vaterlandslose Gesellen (fellows without a Fatherland). The designation stung all German Socialists, who, ready as they were in theory to disavow all attachment to any state, did not relish this kind of public denunciation by their monarch. The word Gesellen, too, when used in this sense has an unpleasant connotation.
The Socialists, whose political tenets necessarily made them opponents of royalty and monarchism everywhere, were particularly embittered against a Kaiser whose contempt for them was so openly expressed. Their press, which consistently referred to him baldly as "Wilhelm II" sailed as closely into the wind of lèse majesté as possible, and sometimes too closely. Leading Socialist papers had their special Sitzredacteur, or "sitting-editor," whose sole function consisted in "sitting out" jail sentences for insulting the Kaiser or other persons in authority. Police officials, taking their keynote from the Kaiser, prosecuted and persecuted Socialists relentlessly and unintelligently. Funeral processions were stopped to permit policemen to remove red streamers and ribbons from bouquets on the coffins, and graves were similarly desecrated if the friends or mourners had ventured to bind their floral offerings with the red of revolutionary Socialism. The laws authorizing police supervision of all public meetings were relentlessly enforced against Socialists, and their gatherings were dissolved by the police-official present at the least suggestion of criticism of the authorities. There was no practical remedy against this abuse of power. An appeal to the courts was possible, but a decision in June that a meeting in the preceding January had been illegally dissolved did not greatly help matters. Socialist meetings could not be held in halls belonging to a government or municipality, and the Socialists often or perhaps generally found it impossible to secure meeting-places in districts where the Conservatives or National Liberals were in control. Federal, state and municipal employees were forbidden to subscribe for Socialist publications, or to belong to that party.
The extent of these persecutions is indicated by a report made to the Socialist congress at Halle in 1890, shortly after the Ausnahmegesetze had expired by limitation, after a vain attempt had been made to get the Reichstag to reenact them. In the twelve years that the law had been in operation, 155 journals and 1,200 books and pamphlets had been prohibited; 900 members of the party had been banished from Germany without trial; 1,500 had been arrested on various charges and 300 of these punished for violations of the law.
The Ausnahmegesetze failed of their purpose just as completely as did the Six Acts [10] of 1820 in England. Even in 1878, the very year these laws were enacted, the Socialists polled more votes than ever before. In 1890 their total popular vote in the Empire was 1,427,000, which was larger than the vote cast for any other single party. They should have had eighty members in that year's Reichstag, but the shift in population and consequent disproportionateness of the election districts kept the number of Socialist deputies down to thirty-seven. At the Reichstag election of 1893 their popular vote was 1,800,000, with forty-four deputies.
[ [10] These acts were passed by Parliament after the Manchester Riots of 1819: to prevent seditious meetings for a discussion of subjects connected with church or state; to subject cheap periodical pamphlets on political subjects to a duty; to give magistrates the power of entering houses, for the purpose of seizing arms believed to be collected for unlawful purposes.
It may be seriously questioned whether Bismarck's unfortunate legislation did not actually operate to increase the Socialists' strength. Certain it is that it intensified the feeling of bitterness against the government, by men whose very creed compelled them to regard as their natural enemy even the most beneficent bourgeois government, and who saw themselves stamped as Pariahs. This feeling found expression at the party's congress in 1880 at Wyden, when a sentence of the program declaring that the party's aim should be furthered "by every lawful means" was changed to read, "by every means." It must in fairness be recorded, however, that the revolutionary threat of this change appeared to have no effect on the subsequent attitude of the party leaders or their followers. The record of German Socialism is remarkably free from violence and sabotage, and the revolution of 1918 was, as we shall see, the work of men of a different stamp from the elder Liebknecht and the sturdy and honest Bebel.
Two great factors in the growth of Socialism in Germany remain to be described. These were, first, the peculiar tendency of the Teutonic mind, already mentioned, to abstract philosophical thought, without regard to practicalities, and, second, the accident that the labor-union movement in Germany was a child of party-Socialism.
Socialism, in the last analysis, is nearer to New Testament Christianity than is any other politico-economic creed, and the professions and habits of thought of nearly all men in enlightened countries are determined or at least powerfully influenced by the precepts of Christ, no matter how far their practices may depart from these precepts. Few even of those most strongly opposed to Socialism oppose it on ethical grounds. Their opposition is based on the conviction that it is unworkable and impracticable; that it fails to take into consideration the real mainsprings of human action and conduct as society is today constituted. In an ideally altruistic society, they admit, it would be feasible, but, again, such a society would have no need of it. In other words, the fundamental objection is the objection of the practical man. Whether his objection is insuperable it is no part of the purpose of the writer to discuss. What it is desired to make plain is that Socialism appeals strongly to the dreamer, the closet-philosopher who concerns himself with abstract ethical questions without regard to their practicality or practicability as applied to the economic life of an imperfect society. And there are more men of this type in Germany than in any other country.
Loosely and inefficiently organized labor unions had existed in Germany before the birth of the Socialist movement, but they existed independently of each other and played but a limited rôle. The first labor organization of national scope came on May 23, 1863, at Leipsic, when Lassalle was instrumental in founding Der allgemeine deutsche Arbeiterverein (National German Workmen's Union). Organized labor, thus definitely committed to Socialism, remained Socialist. To become a member of a labor union in Germany—or generally anywhere on the continent—means becoming an enrolled member of the Socialist party at the same time. The only non-Socialist labor organizations in Germany were the Catholic Hirsch-Duncker unions, organized at the instance of the Roman Catholic Church to prevent the spread of Socialism. These were boycotted by all Socialists, who termed them the "yellow unions," and regarded them as union workmen in America regard non-union workers. It goes without saying that a political party which automatically enrolls in its membership all workmen who join a labor union cannot help becoming powerful.
That international Socialism is inimical to nationalism and patriotism has already been pointed out, but a word remains to be said on this subject with reference to specific German conditions. We have already seen how the Germany of the beginning of the nineteenth century was a loose aggregation of more than three hundred dynasties, most of which were petty principalities. The heritage of that time was a narrowly limited state patriotism which the Germans termed Particularismus, or particularism. Let the American reader assume that the State of Texas had originally consisted of three hundred separate states, each with its own government, and with customs and dialects varying greatly in the north and south. Assume further that, after seventy years filled with warfare and political strife, these states had been re-formed into twenty-six states, with the ruler of the most powerful at the head of the new federation, and that several of the twenty-six states had reserved control over their posts, telegraphs, railways and customs as the price for joining the federation. Even then he will have but a hazy picture of the handicaps with which the Imperial German Government had to contend.