Economic life is, in its elements, very simple. Raw materials—iron ore, copper, cotton, petroleum, coal and wheat—are converted, by some process of labor, into things that feed, clothe and house people. There are four stages in this process—raw materials; manufacturing; transportation; marketing. If there is a failure in one of the four, all of the rest go wrong, as is very clearly illustrated whenever there is a great miners' or railroad workers' strike, or when there is a failure of a particular crop. During the war, all four of these economic stages went wrong.
Between the years 1914 and 1918 the people of Europe busied themselves with a war that put their economic machine out of the running.
For a hundred years the European nations had been busy building a finely adjusted economic mechanism; population, finance, commerce—all were knit into the same system. This system the war demolished, and the years that have followed the Armistice have not seen it rebuilt in any essential particular, save in Great Britain and in some of the neutral countries.
Not only were the European nations unable to give commodities in exchange for the things they needed but the machinery of finance, by means of which these transactions were formerly facilitated, was crippled almost beyond repair. Under the old system buying and selling were carried on by the use of money, and money ceased to be a stable medium of exchange in Europe. It would be more correct to say that money was no longer taken seriously in many parts of Europe. During the war the European governments printed 75 billions of dollars' worth of paper money. This paper depreciated to a ridiculous extent. Before the war, the franc, the lira, the mark and the crown had about the same value—20 to 23 cents, or about five to a dollar. By 1920 the dollar bought 15 francs; 23 liras; 40 marks, and 250 Austrian crowns. In some of the ready-made countries, constituted under the Treaty or set up by the Allies as a cordon about Russia, hundreds and thousands of crowns could be had for a dollar. Even the pound sterling, which kept its value better than the money of any of the other European combatants, was thirty per cent. below par, when measured in terms of dollars. This situation made it impossible for the nations whose money was at such a heavy discount to purchase supplies from the more fortunate countries. But to make matters even worse, the rate of exchange fluctuated from day to day and from hour to hour so that business transactions could only be negotiated on an immense margin of safety.
Add to this financial dissolution the mountains of debt, the huge interest charges and the oppressive taxes, and the picture of economic ruin is complete.
The old capitalist world, organized on the theory of competition between the business men within each nation, and between the business men of one nation and those of another nation, reached a point where it would no longer work.
In Russia the old system had disappeared, and a new system had been set up in its place. In Germany, and throughout central Europe, the old system was shattered, and the new had not yet emerged. In France, Italy and Great Britain the old system was in process of disintegration—rapid in France and Italy; slower in Great Britain. But in all of these countries intelligent men and women were asking the only question that statesmanship could ask—the question, "What next?"
The capitalist system was stronger in Great Britain than in any of the other warring countries of Europe. Before the war, it rested on a surer foundation. During the war, it withstood better than any other the financial and industrial demands. Since the war, it has made the best recovery.
Great Britain is the most successful of the capitalist states. The other capitalist nations of Europe regard her as the inner citadel of European capitalism. The British Labor Movement is seeking to take this citadel from within.