Socialism and the Social Movement in the 19th Century

by Werner Sombart

But for these the social theorist cares nothing. Only that is of importance to him which rests upon an essential difference. And of these also there are enough, because the causes of them are numerous. What is here decisive is the variation in the view of world and life, is the difference of national character, is the varying degree of vision into the essence of social development or of understanding concerning accepted principles, is the varying measure of ripeness and education of the masses, is the difference in economic development in the various lands, etc.

But I cannot possibly exhaust the points of contradiction and strife which arise out of these manifold and effective causes. I shall here simply present certain matters which seem to me especially important because essentially significant. My duty as to this problem can be, again, only that of a theorist who tries to make a clear explanation, who desires not to work upon your will but upon your intelligence, who does not carry in his hand the brand of agitation but the lamp of illumination.

If I do not pay attention to some points of difference which may seem to you of supreme importance, it is not because I do not myself recognise this importance, but because I suppose the contradiction that comes to expression in them to be either out of date or only imaginary, or because I go back of them to the deeper, essential differences. Thus, for example, the alternative, trade unions or a working-men's party, is either the expression of a deeper opposition concerning which I shall later speak, or it is a question that does not concern us in these days. Thus concerning all those representatives of the working-men's movement who place themselves upon the platform of legal struggle. These men know that politics and trade unions are like the right and left legs upon which the proletariat marches; that political part-taking is needed in order to obtain influence upon legislation; that economic organisation is needed in order to discipline and educate the masses. The only question can be now as to the degree, the more or less, of the one or the other form of social agitation;—always within the limits of legal agitation on the part of the working men. Any such question cannot be general; it must be decided separately in each place and case. The economic ripeness of the masses, the degree of political freedom, and much else, must decide.

In a similar way is another point of difference to be judged; shall there be an independent working-men's party or not? You know, I have already spoken to you a number of times concerning this, saying that in England thus far there has been practically no independent working-men's party; I have given to you the reasons why, as it seems to me, any such party has been until now at least unnecessary, even if the working men desired to busy themselves in political matters. The political influence of the social movement is not dependent upon the existence of an independent party of working men. Even that question is not a general one; it must be decided according to local circumstances.

If we ask now for antitheses of real importance, we are met first and especially, to-day, by that sufficiently explained opposition which is contained in the words revolution or evolution, the old point of discussion which was, is, and I believe will be, a constant feature of social agitation; that point of separation which we traced first in the "International," and which to-day we see revived in the opposition of the so-called "Junger" and the anarchists against the majority of organised labour. The reasons on account of which I think that also in the future this discussion will not cease are as follows. Revolutionism is, as I have shown you, a manifestation of unripeness. A man can, in a certain sense, assert that the social movement begins anew every moment; for every day new masses arise out of the lower strata of the proletariat yet living in stupid unconsciousness, and they attach themselves to the social movement. These unschooled elements, of course, in their part-taking show the characteristics of the social movement itself in its beginnings. They find their natural leaders in the disinherited citizens of the day, like Catiline of old, mostly young men who have nothing to lose and who try to substitute a fiery enthusiasm for theoretic insight and practical judgment. The process which we have watched for a decade is one which must ever again be repeated; the maturer elements are absorbed and disappear, new hordes of revolutionists arise, and the process of absorption by the riper, evolutionary, elements begins anew. Thus we see two opposing phases of the development of social agitation that play their part at the same time in different spheres of the proletariat. So far as can be seen, there has been thus far an uninterrupted progress in the absorption of the unripe revolutionary elements by the evolutionists.

But even here, where the idea of evolution, consciously or unconsciously, obtains recognition as the basis of the social movement, we meet questions, many of which, as it seems to me, arise because of a false conception of the essence of social evolution.

Although I have had opportunity at different times to show what social evolution is, at least in a general way, let me here repeat concisely what I understand by this idea; for a right comprehension of this point is all-important. Social evolution, and the conception of the social movement as such an evolution, rest upon the thought that we find ourselves in a continued condition of economic and thus social change, and that specific social interests and the necessary relations of mastery are connected with each change; thus in proportion as the evolution proceeds and as the activities of the interested groups develop, the balance of power becomes displaced, with the result that the ruling classes are slowly replaced by other classes that reach control. Here also lies at bottom the thought that the division of power at any given time is truly the expression of economic relations, and is no merely accidental and artificial work; that this power can only be displaced gradually, and only as the economic relations are changed, and as at the same time the personal and subjective conditions and the characteristics of the aspiring classes are developed. In a word, social evolution is a gradual achievement of power, the creation of a new condition of society, corresponding to the overthrow of economic relations and the transformation and schooling of character.

Among the evolutionists differences have emerged owing to a confusion of the terms "quietism" and "evolution." Especially among the Marxists has the thought spread, that evolution is so entirely a process of nature, independent of human activity, that the individual must let his hands rest in his lap and must wait until the ripened fruit drops. This quietist and, as I believe, pseudo-Marxist idea has no real connection with the inner thought of evolution. Its fundamental mistake lies in the fact that all the occurrences in social life are carried out by living men, and that men complete the process of development by placing aims before themselves and by striving to realise these aims.

The standpoints of the social theorist and of him who deals practically in social life are entirely different; but men constantly interchange the two. For the theorist, social development is a necessary sequence of cause and effect, as he sees it in the shaping of life compulsorily by the motives of the persons involved; and these motives themselves he tries to understand in their limitations. For him social life is a process rather of the past. But for the man who deals practically in social life, it lies in the future. What the theorist understands as the working of specified causes is, to the practical man, an object lying in the future which his will should help to accomplish. This very will is a necessary element in the causation of social happening. And this will, conditioned as it may be, is the highest personal possession of man in action. As the social theorist seeks to show as necessary specific tendencies of the will, and with them specific developments of the social life, he can do this with the self-evident limitation that the energy of the practical man in creating and accomplishing these efforts of the will does not fail. If for any reason, for example through the pressure of quietistic sentiment, this energy should be lessened, the most important link in the assumed chain of causes would drop out, and the development would take an entirely different course. It is a great mistake to apply unqualifiedly to social life the idea of a process in accordance with natural law; for example, to say that socialism must come by a "necessity of nature." Socialism has nothing to do with any such necessity. Thus, for example, we cannot see why the development of capitalism should not lead just as well to the overthrow of modern culture. And it must surely take this course if the leaders of advance do not develop during the transformation of the social life the necessary qualities for a new order of society, if they allow themselves to sink into a marasmus or quietism. For them, all social happening is only a condition to be created: and in order to accomplish this in the future they need an energy of resolution.

In close connection with the point of which we have just spoken stands another matter, which also in the last analysis depends upon a right understanding of the essence of social evolution. I refer to the confusion of "ideal" and "programme"—the substitution of politics for idealism. I mean this: superficial evolutionists, especially in the ranks of the Marxists, are inclined to look with supreme contempt upon idealists and enthusiasts, and to rest only upon practical politics; they emphasise the rational to the exclusion of the ideal. That is a conception which does not at all harmonise with the real meaning of evolution. For evolution wants its highest social ideals to be realised, but these are founded only upon postulates essentially ethical. To realise these ideals it is necessary to become inspired, to kindle a heart's glow, to develop a fire of enthusiasm. The warming sun must shed its beams, if all is not to go under and become darkened—with danger of the annihilation of all life. The word of the dying St. Simon, with which he took departure from his favourite scholar Rodriguez, is eternally true: "Never forget, my friend, that a man must have enthusiasm in order to accomplish great things." When this idealism and enthusiasm disappear from a movement, when its impetus is lost, when it passes into a littleness of opportunism, into an emptiness of small politics, it dies like a body without life. And it is certainly one of the most unpleasant traits of many of the modern representatives of the proletarian movement, that in the dusty atmosphere of common politics they have lost their enthusiasm and have sunk to the level of political malcontents.