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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78065-0.txt b/78065-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2aff76 --- /dev/null +++ b/78065-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10271 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78065 *** + +Transcriber’s Notes: + +Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). + +Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. + + * * * * * + +THE _Anatomy of_ REVOLUTION + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +_BOOKS BY CRANE BRINTON_ + + THE ANATOMY OF REVOLUTION + THE LIVES OF TALLEYRAND + + + + +THE _Anatomy of_ REVOLUTION + + + _BY CRANE BRINTON_ + ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF HISTORY, HARVARD UNIVERSITY + + W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC. + _Publishers_ · _New York_ + + * * * * * + + Copyright, 1938, by + W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC. + 70 Fifth Avenue, New York + + _First Edition_ + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + * * * * * + + TO ALDEN AND HELEN HOAG, + WHO LISTENED TO IT ALL + + + + +CONTENTS + + + FOREWORD 9 + + _Chapter_ I. THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF REVOLUTIONS 11 + + I. THE NECESSITY FOR A SCIENTIFIC APPROACH, 11. + II. THE BARE ELEMENTS OF SCIENTIFIC METHODS, 16. + III. THE APPLICATION OF SCIENTIFIC METHODS TO THIS + STUDY, 21. IV. LIMITATIONS OF THE SUBJECT, 31. + + _Chapter_ II. THE OLD REGIMES 38 + + I. THE DIAGNOSIS OF PRELIMINARY SIGNS, 38. + II. STRUCTURAL WEAKNESSES, ECONOMIC AND + POLITICAL, 39. III. THE DESERTION OF THE + INTELLECTUALS, 52. IV. CLASSES AND CLASS + ANTAGONISMS, 63. V. SUMMARY, 79. + + _Chapter_ III. FIRST STAGES OF REVOLUTION 82 + + I. THE ETERNAL FIGARO, 82. II. THE EVENTS OF THE + FIRST STAGES, 85. III. SPONTANEITY OR PLANNING? 94. + IV. THE ROLE OF FORCE, 105. V. THE HONEYMOON, 111. + + _Chapter_ IV. TYPES OF REVOLUTIONISTS 113 + + I. THE CLICHÉS, 113. II. ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL POSITION: + RANK AND FILE, 117. III. ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL + POSITION: LEADERS, 123. IV. CHARACTER AND DISPOSITION, + 129. V. SUMMARY, 145. + + _Chapter_ V. THE RULE OF THE MODERATES 148 + + I. THE PROBLEM OF THE MODERATES, 148. II. EVENTS + DURING THE RULE OF THE MODERATES, 151. III. DUAL + SOVEREIGNTY, 161. IV. WEAKNESSES OF THE MODERATES, + 166. V. THE FAILURE OF THE MODERATES, 176. + + _Chapter_ VI. THE ACCESSION OF THE EXTREMISTS 179 + + I. THE COUP D’ÉTAT, 179. II. ORGANIZATION OF THE + EXTREMISTS, 181. III. FITNESS OF THE EXTREMISTS, + 193. IV. THE MACHINERY OF DICTATORSHIP, 206. + + _Chapter_ VII. REIGNS OF TERROR AND VIRTUE 212 + + I. PERVASIVENESS OF THE TERROR, 212. II. THE TERROR + AND THE OUTSIDER, 214. III. THE TERROR AND THE + INSIDER: THE RELIGIOUS PARALLEL, 220. IV. WHAT MAKES + THE TERROR? 236. + + _Chapter_ VIII. THERMIDOR 244 + + I. UNIVERSALITY OF THE THERMIDOREAN REACTION, + 244. II. AMNESTY AND REPRESSION, 247. III. RETURN + OF THE CHURCH, 255. IV. THE SEARCH FOR PLEASURE, + 261. V. SUMMARY, 270. + + _Chapter_ IX. A SUMMARY OF THE WORK OF REVOLUTIONS 272 + + I. CHANGES IN INSTITUTIONS AND IDEAS, 272. II. SOME + TENTATIVE UNIFORMITIES, 286. III. A PARADOX OF + REVOLUTION, 299. + + BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX 303 + + I. HISTORICAL WRITING ON THE FOUR REVOLUTIONS, + 303. II. THE WISDOM OF THE AGES, 310. III. THE + MARXISTS, 312. IV. THE SOCIOLOGY OF REVOLUTIONS, + 315. + + INDEX 321 + + + + +FOREWORD + + +This book is a modified and expanded form of lectures delivered in +Boston in February and March, 1938, on the foundation of the Lowell +Institute. I wish here to thank the officers of the Lowell Institute +for giving me the opportunity to initiate this study, and my audience +for the co-operation an audience--perhaps without knowing it--always +gives. I wish also to thank those of my friends and colleagues with +whom I have discussed the subject of this book for the last two +years, and especially Professor L. J. Henderson, the effects of whose +care, taste and judgment ought to be evident everywhere in a work +he has gone over with great thoroughness; Professor W. S. Ferguson, +who first called to my attention the inadequacy of important parts +of my uniformities when applied to Athenian history; Professor R. +B. Merriman, who very kindly placed the manuscript of his study of +seventeenth-century revolutions at my disposal, and discussed it with +me to the great profit of the present work; Professors Frederick Merk +and A. M. Schlesinger and Dr. Richard Leopold, Americanists most gentle +with me and helpful in my invasion of a field not my own; Dr. George +Pettee; and Professor Penfield Roberts and Dr. O. H. Taylor who, if +there is anything in the adage that _solvitur ambulando_, have had a +large part in this book. Finally, I am very grateful to my research +assistant, Miss Bernice Hempel, for patient and discerning help alike +in the gathering and in the organizing of my materials. + + CRANE BRINTON + + PEACHAM, VERMONT. + July 2, 1938. + + + + +_Chapter_ ONE THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF REVOLUTIONS + + +_I. The Necessity for a Scientific Approach_ + +We are today very much aware of revolution. The bare word itself is +likely to set stirring a whole set of sentiments and associations in +the mind of any modern man or woman. For some, perhaps for most in the +older democracies of the West, these sentiments are not far from fear +and dislike. For others, revolution is still a word of good promise, +a beginning of better things, a necessary part of the progress of the +race. Once, indeed, and not so very long ago, hopeful liberals could +believe that certain favored countries--England, the United States, +Germany, the good little countries of Europe like Switzerland and +Holland, possibly even the classic land of revolution, France--had +outgrown this kind of political instability. Freedom in the long run +might slowly broaden down from precedent to precedent everywhere, +even in South and Central America. All this seems, like so many other +Victorian hopes, very distant to us now. + +For our postwar world has produced a series of revolutions by no means +limited to lands in general political disrepute. Russia in 1917, +Central Europe in 1918-19, Italy in 1923, Spain in 1931, Germany again +in 1933, all underwent violent changes of government to which the name +revolution is usually attached. Some of these revolutionary movements +were, indeed, not strictly in the nineteenth-century pattern: they were +put through, not in the name of liberty, equality, fraternity, but +in the name of authority, discipline, power. They were, if you like, +authoritarian, conservative, reactionary. Hitler and Mussolini did not +talk the language of Hampden, Patrick Henry, Mirabeau, Mazzini, nor +even that of Marx and Engels. + +The older democracies, as yet apparently stable politically, have +undergone a series of economic strains which certainly appear more +serious than similar strains they survived successfully enough in +the nineteenth century. The breakdown of the Versailles settlement, +the return of international anarchy, the difficulties of government +finances, contributed further to a sense of insecurity in these +democracies. Recent events in Russia have, to put it mildly, bewildered +and discouraged those outside that country who in one degree or another +looked hopefully on the Russian revolution. The whole tone of writing +on politics has changed, especially in countries like England, France, +and the United States. Prophets of doom are now almost as common as +prophets of progress used to be in the good old days when we could +blandly rejoice in clichés like “Evolution, not Revolution.” + +Even in the United States, where pleasant memories of 1776 are +incorporated into such unrevolutionary bodies as the Daughters of the +American Revolution, the great crash of 1929 set all sorts of people +to worrying about, or hoping for, a catastrophic overturn. Sober +people in conservative circles began to discuss whether a little farm +in Vermont wouldn’t give them subsistence and reasonable safety from +the wandering robber-bands of the coming Reign of Terror. Hopeful +radicals, too well read in Marx, began to discuss whether economic +privation might not make a majority of American workers realize that +they are a proletariat, and not a group of potential capitalists. Down +through Hollywood and the columnists there ran the naïvely cynical +catch phrase, “Comes the revolution....” + +It is, then, almost impossible for us in these days to be indifferent +toward revolutions. Yet we shall not go far towards understanding them +unless we can maintain toward them, if not indifference, at least +detachment. This last word, one may hope, is not just a favorable +way of saying what “indifference” says unfavorably. A physician may +feel far from indifferent towards his patient, but he will not be a +good physician unless he is detached in his observation and treatment +of his patient’s malady. We may dodge here a whole lurking set of +philosophical difficulties, and say simply that what we commonly call +modern science has as one of its basic elements the detachment of the +scientist. The scientist, _as a private person_, may love and hate, +hope and fear; _as a scientist_, he must try to leave all this behind +when he enters his laboratory or his study. + +To attempt to maintain in the analysis of human affairs the detachment +of the physicist or the chemist is very difficult, and to a great many +upright and intelligent people seems unprofitable, even treasonous. You +should, they feel, hate Hitler all the time, before, while, and after +you start explaining him; otherwise your explanation may edge into +extenuation. + +But to understand all is by no means to pardon all. At any rate, the +scientific understanding of the place of the mosquito in yellow fever +has not led us to tolerance of, or indifference to, that particular +type of mosquito. Quite the contrary. We cannot, of course, expect such +immediate and apparently spectacular results as were obtained with +yellow fever from the study of man in society, from what are a bit +optimistically called the social sciences--anthropology, economics, +political science, history, sociology, and the like. But we may well +consider the possibility of approaching the study of revolutions in +something of the spirit the natural scientist carries to his work. + +Our aim in the following study is the modest one of attempting to +establish, as the scientist might, certain first approximations of +uniformities to be noted in the course of four successful revolutions +in modern states; the English revolution of the 1640’s, the American +revolution, the great French revolution, and the recent--or +present--revolution in Russia. We must make clear at the start some of +the limitations of our study: this is not the only, nor necessarily the +best, way of studying revolutions; this study does not pretend to be +a complete sociology of revolutions; it deliberately limits its field +to four relatively well-studied revolutions; its conclusions are to be +taken to refer to these four revolutions, and any extension of such +conclusions to other revolutions, or to revolutions in general, is to +be undertaken with caution and humility. + +Were we attempting to find an ideal type for revolution, were we +seeking a kind of Platonic idea of revolution, we might be fairly +reproached with picking four nice neat revolutions which made almost +too good a case, too perfect a pattern. But we are making no such +attempt. It should be very clear that not all revolutions, past, +present, and future, will conform to the pattern here drawn. Our four +revolutions are not necessarily even “typical” in the sense the word +“typical” has for literary critics or moralists. They are simply four +important revolutions with which we have chosen to begin a work of +systematization still in its infancy. Subtler systematizations will +come later, from other and more advanced workers. Above all, we do +not here claim any prophetic wisdom. We do not expect to be able to +predict from this study just when and where the next revolution will +break out on this earth. + +At this point it may be objected that the social sciences have been +aping the natural sciences for several centuries, and got no further +forward, that they ought therefore to try and stand on their own +feet, that they ought to work out their own methods without bothering +about what has been done in the natural sciences. There is a kernel +of truth in this objection. Certainly writers like Fourier or Herbert +Spencer, who have proclaimed themselves literally the Newtons or the +Darwins of social science, appear to have gone wrong from the start. +A prophetic soul drawing upon philosophy and the arts--a Spengler, +for instance--will probably make at least as much sense out of the +study of men in society as will the social scientist who tries to take +over _unaltered_ the methods and materials of physics or biology. Yet +one hesitates to turn the study of men in society wholly over to the +Spenglers. The long tradition of what may be called rationalism has +in our society made conquests not to be lightly abandoned even in +this postwar world. That tradition makes it imperative to attempt to +continue, and extend, the kind of work we call scientific. + +There has, indeed, been a great deal of nonsense written under the +protecting name of science. It is easy to sympathize with Mr. Max +Lerner’s outburst: “I am frankly skeptical when people working on the +study of societies begin arming themselves with scalpels, slide-rules +and test-tubes. For they are promising more than they can possibly +fulfill. The protestations of complete objectivity that we have been +hearing from students of society in the past quarter century take on a +religious note: it is as if they were washing themselves in the blood +of the scientific lamb.” Some of Mr. Lerner’s objections to the appeal +to science and to scientific detachment are probably those of the +romantic lover of his fellow-men, and are almost wholly irreducible by +logic or experience; but some are those of the skeptic and critic, and +such objections can be shown to rest in good part on a misunderstanding +of scientific method not by any means limited to Mr. Lerner. So common +is this misunderstanding that we must attempt here to put the matter +as clearly as possible in a very few words. This will be in no sense a +detour; it will be an essential approach to our subject. + + +_II. The Bare Elements of Scientific Methods_ + +First, not even the “exact” sciences like astronomy or physics are +exact in the sense of “absolute” or “infallible.” Their firmest laws +or uniformities are to be regarded as tentative. They may be upset at +any time by further work. But at any given moment they are not to be +tampered with unless they prove unreliable _in relation to observed +facts_. A few mystics, inhibited in our crass society from the delights +of navel-gazing, have made too much of the contemporary revolution in +physics. Newton’s laws have not been “disproved”; nor has the principle +of indeterminacy been so firmly established as to make all men equally +good at the game of poker. What has happened in modern physics, as far +as a layman can judge, is that the physicist has been sharply reminded +that even his neatest uniformities are not absolutes, but are subject +to correction, that he is safer in regarding these uniformities as +based on observations rather than on the will of God, or the nature of +things, or on reality. + +This brings us easily to the second point. Science makes no attempt +to study or describe reality--certainly not ultimate reality. Science +is not even concerned with truth, in the sense that word has for +theologians, for most philosophers, and for a good many other people. +The desire to find a final cause, an unmoved mover, a _Ding an sich_, +seems to be so common in men that we have no grounds for believing that +this search is not, in one form or another, a fairly constant element +in human society. Only, scientists _as scientists_ can have no part in +such a search. This by no means need be taken as indicating that the +search is silly, and ought to be stopped. Some scientists have lately +been, _as private persons_, very active in the search, and indeed, +after the manner of such searches, successful. Faith has long since +found God in unlikelier places than the atom. But such discoveries are +not the discoveries of science. That discipline is based, not on faith, +but on skepticism, on a skepticism that will not even worry itself over +its status in the universe. And so the scientist works on serenely, +undisturbed by the philosopher’s final thrust: that to be constantly +skeptical is to believe in doubt, which is after all a form of faith. + +Third, the scientist by no means confines himself to “the facts and +nothing but the facts.” Dangerous metaphysical depths yawn at this +point, but we shall have to try and go ahead in spite of them. The +popularization of Baconian ideas on induction is probably the chief +source of the erroneous notion that the scientist does nothing to +the facts he laboriously and virtuously digs up, except to let them +fall neatly into a place they have made for themselves. Actually the +scientist cannot work without a conceptual scheme; and though the +relation between facts and conceptual schemes is not by any means +clear it is at least clear that a conceptual scheme involves something +besides facts. + +Let no one be frightened of the technical term “conceptual scheme.” +It is really very simple: thunder and lightning impinge on our senses +of hearing and sight--probably the mere differentiating of this +sound and this flash from other sounds and flashes means that we are +employing a conceptual scheme; certainly when we think of Jupiter +with his bolts, Thor with his hammer, or the electrical discharge of +modern physics, we have clearly arranged our sense-perceptions in +accordance with definite conceptual schemes. We possess, indeed, the +basic elements of three different theories of thunder and lightning, +three different uniformities in these phenomena. But the only important +reasons why we should prefer our electrical discharge to Jupiter or +Thor _as a conceptual scheme_ is that it is more useful, and that we +can by using it get on better also with other conceptual schemes we use +for similar purposes. But in the sense which the word _true_ has for +the theologian, and most moralists and philosophers, our electrical +discharge is not a bit _truer_ than the old notions about Jupiter and +Thor. + +We may even use two contradictory conceptual schemes, choosing one or +the other at convenience, or from habit. We are all of us educated out +of the old Ptolemaic conceptual scheme, which saw the sun moving about +a stationary earth, into the Copernican conceptual scheme, which sees +the earth moving about a stationary sun. Einstein, of course, used a +conceptual scheme different from both of these, but most of us are not +yet up to Einstein; in daily life we all, however, contentedly say +“the sun rises,” and should be very pedantic indeed if we insisted on +saying in Copernican terms “the earth has revolved into sight of the +sun.” More important is the present situation in respect to conceptual +schemes in modern physics. We learn, as far as laymen can learn in +such matters, that physicists find it convenient in the study of +certain problems to regard the electron as a particle, or at least a +point, and in the study of other problems to regard it as a wave. Some +physicists, many of them of very great distinction indeed, are troubled +by this contradiction, and have sought to work out a single conceptual +scheme which will make the electron a nice logical unity again. One +suspects, however, that these physicists have left in them a little of +the philosopher, and that it is their philosophical selves that demand +unity in the electron. For other physicists get on admirably with this +logically impossible electron, wave when they want it to be a wave, +particle when they want it to be a particle. As scientists, they are +quite content to solve their problems, which deal wholly with this +world and can be solved in this world, though no doubt not in the next, +without regard for ultimate truth. + +The scientist, then, goes to work roughly in some such fashion as +this: he starts with a conceptual scheme of some sort, and questions, +or even hypotheses, he frames in terms of that scheme; he then hunts +for a suitable supply of facts--and a fact in the natural sciences we +define with Professor L. J. Henderson as “an empirically verifiable +statement about phenomena in terms of a conceptual scheme”; these +facts he seeks to arrange in uniformities or theories which will +answer his questions, and perhaps suggest other questions; he then +immerses himself again in the hunt for facts, and emerges with new +or modified uniformities. The scientist is not interested in where +his conceptual scheme came from, or whether it preceded or followed +on facts, or whether it is “subjective” and the facts “objective.” +These questions he leaves to the philosophers, who have not settled +them yet after two thousand years of debate. But the scientist does, +by his recognition that a conceptual scheme is as essential to his +activity as are observed facts, emancipate himself completely from +self-styled “scientific” materialists, positivists, empiricists, who +naively assert that our sense-perceptions are somehow in themselves +an orderly and sole reality, or a “reflection” of such a reality. +For, note particularly, the facts with which the scientist deals +are not phenomena, sense-perceptions, the “external world,” those +dear absolutes of innocent positivists, but merely statements about +phenomena. A properly verifiable statement about Cromwell is then as +much a fact as the reading of a thermometer in a laboratory. + +Fourth, though the scientist is very careful indeed about matters of +definition, and is as disdainful of sloppiness and bad thinking as +any logician can be, he distrusts rigidity and attempts at perfection +here as elsewhere. He is interested less in beauty and neatness of +definition than in having his definitions fit not his sentiments and +aspirations, but the facts. Above all, he does not dispute over words. +He is less interested in the accurate theoretical distinction between a +mountain and a hill than he is in making sure that he is dealing with +concrete elevations on this earth. He does not expect class-terms to +be perfect, mutually exclusive; when he distinguishes between a plant +and an animal, he is not at all offended if you call his attention to +a living thing that seems to belong to both his classes at once. He +sets to work studying the living thing and will, if necessary, modify +his class-terms. But he is quite willing also, if it proves more +convenient, to set up a new class-term of borderline plant-animals. +This simple willingness to be guided by convenience is of course one of +the amazing things about the scientist and one of the most difficult +for us who have not had a scientific training to adapt ourselves to. +Most of us are early trained to prefer our opinions to our convenience. + +Finally, scientific thinking cannot be, except perhaps in suggesting +problems, what nowadays most of us know well enough as wishful +thinking. The scientist’s own hopes and fears, his own standards of +what he would like to have prevail on this earth, must be kept as far +as possible out of his work, and especially out of his observations of, +or dealings with, facts. How far such hopes and fears and standards +enter into his choice of conceptual schemes, how far they influence +the kind of questions he asks, are difficult problems we may perhaps +be permitted to dodge. Sufficient that the techniques of most of the +established sciences provide a very effective check on the cruder forms +of wishful thinking. History--because it has been so long an art and +a craft perhaps the most respectable of the social sciences--provides +in the technical training undergone by most professional historians +a surprisingly effective and not wholly dissimilar check on the more +violent forms of partisan writing and thinking. + +All in all, there is no reason why we should feel that the natural +scientist uses methods, sets standards, forever quite unattainable by +the social scientist. Natural science as the more innocent materialists +of the last century saw it--exact, infallible, a cosmos built on +induction--must seem remote to a struggling economist or sociologist. +But natural science as it has always been understood by its ablest +practitioners and is now widely understood--natural science as +expounded methodologically by a Poincaré--is no such thin substitute +for Divine Providence, no such metaphysical abstraction. Only God is +exact, infallible, omniscient, unchanging, and modern science has been +content to leave the search for God to disciplines fitted by long +success for such a search. + + +_III. The Application of Scientific Methods to This Study_ + +Of the bare elements of scientific thinking--conceptual scheme, facts, +logical operations, uniformities--the social sciences in general come +out well on the score of facts. Even in the field of history, where +neither laboratory nor questionnaire methods of research are available, +our existing supply of facts is surprisingly good. You cannot draw +Cromwell back to life, but neither can you call the dinosaurs back to +life. What we know about Cromwell is in many ways as reliable as what +we know about dinosaurs. To say that history is a fable agreed upon, +or a set of tricks played upon the dead, is to slander, or at least +to misjudge, the great body of industrious and sober workers who have +carried on the study of history. Notably the last century or so has +seen the formation of a body of research workers in history who, with +all their faults, maintain standards comparable in some ways to those +maintained by similar groups in the natural sciences. These research +workers do not indeed uncover the simple raw material of facts. The +humblest antiquarian arranges the facts he digs out of his documents +into some kind of pattern. Such a process of arrangement, however, is +not the conscious theorizing of the physical scientist. It was never +even learned as the scientist learns the theoretical scaffolding of +his science, but was acquired almost as the manual worker acquires a +craft. It is this craftsman’s technique for the gathering, winnowing, +and assaying of facts about the behavior of men in the past that is +the great strength of the professional historian. If you asked such a +historian what a fact is, he would probably be greatly puzzled at the +question, and usually quite unable to answer in adequate general terms. +Any good philosopher could convict him of complete epistemological +_naïveté_. But in his daily work the historian shows a very keen +appreciation of the difference between a fact and a theory, and a real +ability to manipulate and arrange facts. + +We shall, then, rely on the historians to supply us with the necessary +facts. For the English, American, and even for the French, revolutions, +the body of reputable and reasonably detached historical writing is +very large indeed. Passions still run high over the French revolution, +but they are being cooled slowly in an increasing flood of printer’s +ink; the chief trouble, indeed, is to choose from among this enormous +mass of material. The Russian revolution is still too near us to be +regarded by professional historians as capable of the kind of treatment +the guild likes to give. Its source material is scattered about, and +much of it is still withheld from scholars. Language is a barrier only +gradually being overcome here in the West. Yet our supply of facts +about the Russian revolution is by no means so slight, or so poor in +quality, as to hinder our enterprise. Twenty years is a long time, and +the early stages of the Russian revolution have been surveyed, if not +_sine ira et studio_, at least with relative detachment. And then both +lovers and haters of the present regime in Russia are almost equally +articulate, and can be balanced off one against the other by anyone who +cares to take the trouble. + +Our conceptual scheme will give us a great deal more difficulty than +will our supply of facts. In the social sciences, at least, the +distinction between a conceptual scheme and a metaphor is still an +uncertain one, and there is no great harm in looking at our present +problem as a search for a framework of not too-literary metaphor to +hold together the details of our revolutions. Yet one of the most +obvious of such metaphors, that of a storm, has several faults. One can +outline it readily: at first there are the distant rumblings, the dark +clouds, the ominous calm before the outbreak, all this corresponding +to what our textbooks used confidently to list as “causes” of the +revolution; then comes the sudden onset of wind and rain, clearly the +beginnings of the revolution itself; the fearful climax follows, with +the full violence of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning, even more +clearly the Reign of Terror; at last comes the gradual subsidence, +the brightening skies, sunshine again, as in the orderly days of the +Restoration. But all this is too literary and too dramatic for our +purposes, too close altogether to the metaphor as used by prophets +and preachers. Insofar as it can be brought into use as a conceptual +scheme it rests on a science, that of meteorology, which has little +direct help to offer the social scientist. + +At almost the opposite side there is the conceptual scheme of a social +system in equilibrium, as best developed in Pareto’s _The Mind and +Society_. The tender-minded are often annoyed by the term equilibrium, +which has for them mechanistic overtones damaging to the dignity of +man. In modern science, however, the term has proved useful in fields +such as chemistry and physiology, well outside that of the mechanics +in which it had its origin. Furthermore, the word as the practicing +scientist uses it has no metaphysical connotations whatever. The +concepts of a physico-chemical system in equilibrium, a social system +in equilibrium, John Jones’s body in equilibrium, do not in the least +prejudice the immortality of anyone’s soul, nor the ultimate victory +of Vitalists over Mechanists. The concept of equilibrium helps us to +understand, and sometimes to use or to control, specific machines, +chemicals, and even medicines. It may some day help us to understand, +and within limits to mold, men in society. + +Its use in the study of revolutions is in principle clear. A society +in perfect equilibrium might be--purely theoretically--defined as a +society every member of which had at a given moment all that he could +possibly desire and was in a state of absolute contentment. Obviously +any real society can be in but an imperfect equilibrium, a condition in +which the varying and conflicting desires and habits of individuals and +groups of individuals are in complex mutual adjustment, an adjustment +so complex that no mathematical treatment of it seems possible at +present. As new desires arise, or as old desires grow stronger +in various groups, or as environmental conditions change, and as +institutions fail to change, a relative disequilibrium may arise, and +what we call a revolution breaks out. We know that in the human body, +for instance, the disequilibrium we call disease is accompanied by +certain definite reactions which tend to restore the body to something +like what it was before the onset of the disease. It seems quite likely +that in a social system in disequilibrium there is something of the +same kind of reaction towards the old conditions, and that this helps +explain why revolutions do not turn out entirely as revolutionists +want them to. The old adjustments tend to re-establish themselves, and +produce what in history is known as the reaction or the restoration. +In social systems, as in the human organism, a kind of natural healing +force, a _vis medicatrix naturae_ tends almost automatically to balance +one kind of change with another and restorative change. + +This conceptual scheme of the social equilibrium is probably in the +long run the most useful for the sociologist of revolutions. It is +for our purposes, however, a bit too ambitious. It needs for full +success a more accurate grasp of more numerous variables than we can at +present manage. Though it need not necessarily be formulated in precise +mathematical terms, it ought to be formulated in terms more close to +those of mathematics than we can honestly employ. In other words, it is +better suited to a complete sociology of revolutions, or a “dynamics of +revolution,” than to our modest study of the anatomy of four specific +revolutions. We are here attempting merely a preliminary analysis, +attempting to classify and systematize at a relatively low level of +complexity. + +Though it has one very grave defect, the best conceptual scheme for +our purposes would seem to be one borrowed from pathology. We shall +regard revolutions--wholly, be it understood, for convenience, and +with no implications of eternal and absolute validity, and with no +moral overtones--as a kind of fever. The outlines of our fever chart +work out readily enough. In the society during the generation or so +before the outbreak of revolution, in the old regime, there will be +found signs of the coming disturbance. Rigorously, these signs are not +quite symptoms, since when the symptoms are fully enough developed +the disease is already present. They are perhaps better described as +_prodromal_ signs, indications to the very keen diagnostician that a +disease is on its way, but not yet sufficiently developed to be the +disease. Then comes a time when the full symptoms disclose themselves, +and when we can say the fever of revolution has begun. This works up, +not regularly but with advances and retreats, to a crisis, frequently +accompanied by delirium, the rule of the most violent revolutionists, +the Reign of Terror. After the crisis comes a period of convalescence, +usually marked by a relapse or two. Finally the fever is over, and +the patient is himself again, perhaps in some respects actually +strengthened by the experience, immunized at least for a while from a +similar attack, but certainly not wholly made over into a new man. The +parallel goes through to the end, for societies which undergo the full +cycle of revolution are perhaps in some respects the stronger for it; +but they by no means emerge entirely remade. + +This conceptual scheme may be used without committing its users in any +sense to an organic theory of society. The organic theory, the motion +of a “body politic,” is a metaphor developed by political philosophers +into a kind of metaphysics. A good German idealist can find almost +anything he wants in the organic theory, from the categorical +imperative to a justification of anti-Semitism and a condemnation of +parliamentary democracy. The word “society” is used in this study as a +convenient way of designating the observed behavior of men in groups, +their interactions, and that is all. We find it convenient to apply +to certain observed changes in given societies a conceptual scheme +borrowed from medicine. We should find it inconvenient and misleading +to extend that conceptual scheme and talk of a body politic, with a +soul, a general will, heart, nerves, and so on. When, for instance, +we apply terms like “prodrome,” “fever,” “crisis,” to the French +revolution, we are very definitely _not_ thinking of a personified +France which suffers all these. To some this distinction may seem only +a verbal one, and unimportant. It is, however, based on one of the +most important distinctions in human thinking--the distinction between +metaphysics and science. + +The really grave defect of this fever chart lies deeper, in the +apparently unalterable fact that our ordinary language, to which words +like “fever,” “disease,” and “crisis” clearly belong, is only in small +part logical. The intellectuals of our generation are rather inclined +to worry over the non-logical overtones of words, which is perhaps a +good sign for the social sciences. Mathematicians, most scientists, +and even symbolic logicians, manage to say what they mean, and can +communicate exactly with one another. When, however, a given act by a +given person, John Doe, is referred to by five separate reporters as +persevering, firm, determined, obstinate, and pig-headed, you obviously +learn as much about the feelings of the reporters towards John Doe as +about John Doe himself. The reporters are trying to spread abroad their +own feelings, not to describe John Doe. Many people from Thucydides +through Bacon and Machiavelli to Pareto have understood this use of +words. It has been noted even by people like Jeremy Bentham and Mr. +Stuart Chase, who cannot perhaps be said to have fully understood it. +In our own day a dozen disciplines, from psychology and philology to +political theory, have made us keenly aware that propaganda lurks in +every syllable, in every accent. This awareness seems not to have +resulted in any appreciable drying-up of propaganda. + +Now nobody wants to have a fever. The very word is full of unpleasant +suggestions. Our use of terms borrowed from medicine is likely, at the +very least, to arouse in many readers sentiments which bar further +understanding. We seem to be damning revolutions by comparing them with +a disease. To those of liberal sympathies and hopes we shall seem to be +condemning in advance such great efforts of the free human spirit as +the French revolution. To the Marxists our whole inquiry has probably +been suspect from the moment we wrote doubtingly about the American +proletariat, and our conceptual scheme will appear to them simply the +expected bourgeois dishonesty. Yet it seems too bad to offend even +the Marxists unnecessarily. Protestations of good intent are probably +useless, but we may none the less record that consciously at least +we are aware of no feelings of dislike for revolutions in general. +We do indeed dislike cruelty whether in revolutions or in stable +societies. But the thought of revolutions sets up in us no train of +unhappy associations. Unconsciously and subconsciously we may well feel +horror of revolution to our thoroughly bourgeois marrow, but without +benefit of Freud we dare not commit ourselves about our unconscious. Of +more persuasive force with the distrustful is perhaps the fact that, +biologically, fever in itself is a good thing rather than a bad thing +for the organism that survives it. To use a figure of speech, the fever +burns up the wicked germs, as the revolution destroys wicked people +and harmful and useless institutions. On close and fair inspection our +conceptual scheme may even seem to have overtones of implication too +favorable, rather than too unfavorable, to revolutions in general. + +Facts and conceptual scheme being thus disposed of, it remains to +consider the possibility of finding some kind of uniformities in +the way in which our facts fit into our conceptual scheme. Most of +us would assume that on the rough level of common sense some kind +of uniformities can be discerned in history. But at least among +professional historians there is a tendency to deny that these +uniformities are real and important, and we must therefore give the +matter brief attention. In a recent review of Professor W. C. Abbott’s +magisterial edition of Cromwell’s speeches and writings, a learned +and conventional English historian wrote that “it is unfortunate that +Professor Abbott has thought to elucidate the English revolution by +comparing it with the American and French revolutions. Revolutionary +technique undoubtedly interests a world familiar with the writings of +Marx and Trotsky and the method of Lenin, but comparisons in history +as elsewhere are odious and revolutions are more remarkable for their +particular differences than for their common elements.” This is +undoubtedly an extreme view, and the English have for the last century +and more been insistent that their revolution was unique--so unique as +to have been practically no revolution at all. + +A full consideration of the problem of historical uniformities would +be very long, and might well end in the cloudland of metaphysics. We +shall have to be content with the crude assertion that the doctrine of +the absolute uniqueness of events in history seems nonsense. History +is essentially an account of the behavior of men, and if the behavior +of men is not subject to any kind of systematizing, this world is even +more cock-eyed than the seers would have it. But you have only to look +at a page of Theophrastus or of Chaucer to realize that Greeks of more +than two thousand years ago and Englishmen of six centuries ago seem +extraordinarily like Americans of today. Even Mr. Christopher Morley’s +jazz version of _The Trojan Horse_ does not seem unreal. Comparisons +may be odious, but they form the basis of literature as well as of +science, and provide a good deal of the staple of everyday conversation. + +As we have seen, an essential element in any attempt to work +scientifically is the detachment of the scientist. In the historian, +this is the ability to keep his observations of what has happened +uninfluenced by what he would like to have happened, or to happen. +We have already encountered this difficulty in our discussion of a +conceptual scheme, where to think of a revolution as a fever seems at +first sight a way of condemning the revolution, of giving it a bad +name. It must be repeated that in all the social sciences genuine +scientific detachment is difficult to attain, and in any “absolute” or +“pure” sense impossible of attainment. Even in the natural sciences, +desire to prove an hypothesis or a theory of one’s own may bring to +the distortion of facts some of the most powerful sentiments in human +beings. But the natural scientist does not want to improve a molecule +or an amoeba--at least, not “morally.” Upon the social scientist, +however, there pours the full force of those sentiments we call moral +as well as those we call selfish. He can hardly avoid wanting to change +what he is studying: not to change it as the chemist changes elements +he compounds, but to change it as the missionary changes the man he +converts. Yet this is just what the social scientist must try to avoid +as a better man would avoid the devil. One of the hardest things on +this earth to do is to describe men or institutions without wanting to +change them, a thing so hard that most people are not even aware that +the two processes are separable. Yet separated they must be if we are +to get anywhere with the social sciences. + +In this study we shall make this attempt to describe without +evaluating. It will not be a complete success, for here on this earth +completion is rare. Absolute detachment is a polar region, unfit for +human life; but one might well make an effort to get out of the +steaming jungles, and come a bit closer to the pole. In less figurative +language: it is impossible to study revolutions without having +sentiments about them, but it is quite possible to keep your sentiments +relatively more out of your study than in. And an inch gained here is +worth several ells on less fertile frontiers of the mind. + + +_IV. Limitations of the Subject_ + +This willingness to put up with, indeed this expectation of, partial +and incomplete results is one of the distinguishing marks of science. +It would be possible to start out with the intention of discovering +uniformities in all recorded revolutions. To begin with, the hardest +conceivable task is, however, rather the privilege of the philosopher +than that of the scientist. At any rate, it seems now scientifically +unprofitable and therefore unwise to ask the question: What have all +known revolutions in common? The very question shows the logical +limitations of the subject: we can never know _all_ revolutions. Any +answer would have to make up in scope and assurance what it would lack +in concreteness. You might ask: What have all known men in common? +The systematist in biology could indeed list certain uniformities +under _homo sapiens_. But the commoner kind of answer would be that +men all have souls, or that they are all created equal, or even, as +Cicero discovered, that “Nihil est enim unum uni tam simile, tam par, +quam omnes inter nosmet ipsos sumus.” (For no one thing is as like, +as equal, to another one as we human beings are like and equal one to +another.) These answers are all very important, but they are not quite +the sort of thing we are after. + +We shall, then, study four revolutions which on the surface seem to +have certain resemblances, and deliberately avoid certain other +types of revolution. Our four took place in the post-medieval Western +world, were “popular” revolutions carried out in the name of “freedom” +for a majority against a privileged minority, and were successful; +that is, they resulted in the revolutionists’ becoming the legal +government. Anything like a complete sociology of revolutions would +have to take account of other kinds of revolution, and notably of +two, the revolution initiated by authoritarians or oligarchies, or +conservatives, that is, the “Rightist” revolution; and the abortive +revolution. + +No doubt there are sentimental distortions involved in distinguishing +our four revolutions as “popular,” but even words heavily encrusted +with sentiments have reference to concrete things; and the English, +French, American, and Russian revolutions were attempts to ensure a +different kind of life from that aimed at in the Fascist revolution in +Italy and the National Socialist revolution in Germany. If, however, +these Fascist revolutions seem too recent to be judged, or even to be +catalogued, fairly, we may find in the time of troubles in Athens at +the end of the fifth century B.C. less controversial evidence. Here the +revolution of 411 B.C. was the work of the conservative or oligarchic +group, and was directed against the old democratic constitution under +which Athens had been ruled since Cleisthenes, if not since Solon. In +the Council of Four Hundred set up by the successful revolutionists, +the extreme oligarchs split with the moderates. After the assassination +of the extremist Phrynicus, and the arrival of bad news from the +front, the moderate Theramenes was able to take over power and set up +a “mixed” constitution, seeking to combine the best of democracy and +oligarchy. Then the fleet, in general strongly democratic, won the +battle of Cyzicus, and paved the way to a fairly complete restoration +of democracy in 410. + +The final victory of Sparta led in 404 to a similar revolutionary +cycle in Athens, beginning with the extreme oligarchic rule of the +Thirty Tyrants and ending again with the restoration of democratic +forms. In these movements, the sequence--to use perhaps misleading +modern political analogies--is from Right to Center to Left, or from +Extremists to Moderates to the Old Gang, a sequence clearly quite +different from that we shall encounter in England, France, and Russia. +Those devoted to the concept of social equilibrium will note that +in these Athenian revolutions the tendency seems to be toward the +restoration of old habits and old institutions; and there is much +here--the role of political clubs, for instance, and the varied uses +of violence--familiar to any student of modern revolutions. Yet the +sequence of power, the time-scale, and much else in these Athenian +revolutions mark them off from those we have chosen to study, and +suggest that they belong at least to a different sub-class. + +Of abortive revolutions we have numerous examples. Needless to +say, abortiveness is not measured by the failure of revolutionary +movements to live up to the ideals professed by their leaders. We mean +by abortive simply the failure of organized groups in revolt. Thus +the American Civil War is really an almost classical example of an +abortive revolution. So too is the Paris Commune of 1871. The European +revolutions of 1848 were on the surface mostly abortive, though in +many countries they helped bring about important and comparatively +permanent administrative and constitutional changes. An abortive +revolution may, of course, mold the defeated revolutionary group to +an even more heroic determination, and pave the way to continued +underground resistance, plotting, propaganda. The blood of martyrs has +built council halls and presidential palaces as well as churches. The +abortive revolution is especially important in the welding together of +oppressed nationalities, which after a few heroic uprisings attain +a pitch of exalted patriotism and self-pity that makes them almost +unbeatable. Contemporary Ireland and Poland were born of a long series +of revolutions that failed, and in their final emergence as independent +nations they bear the clear and unlovely scars of these great moral +victories. Indeed, in a complete study of revolutions, there would have +to be a special sub-class for revolutions in which a territorial or +“national” group rises against another and dominating territorial or +national group. + +Three of our four revolutions--the English, French, and Russian, have +courses in general surprisingly similar. All have a social or class +rather than a territorial or nationalistic basis, though Oxford and +Lancashire, the Vendée, and the Ukraine, suggest that one cannot wholly +neglect these latter factors. All are begun in hope and moderation, +all reach a crisis in a reign of terror, and all end in something like +dictatorship--Cromwell, Bonaparte, Stalin. The American revolution does +not quite follow this pattern, and is therefore especially useful to us +as a kind of control. + +Our revolution was, perhaps predominantly, a territorial and +nationalistic revolution, animated throughout by patriotic American +hatred for the British. On the other hand, it was also in part a social +and class movement, and as time went on its social character came out +more and more strongly. It never quite went through a reign of terror, +though it had many terroristic aspects, usually soft-pedaled in school +and popular histories. All in all, the American revolution presents +a number of interesting problems, and the attempt to integrate some +of its aspects with our other three revolutions promises to extend, +without unduly stretching, the limits of this study. But we must always +remember that the American revolution was in a sense an incomplete one, +that it does not fit perfectly our conceptual scheme, that it does +not show the victory of the extremists over the moderates. We must be +even more cautious than with the other revolutions when we attempt to +discern uniformities in the anatomy of the American revolution. + +We choose then, deliberately, to isolate four revolutions for analysis, +quite aware that there are many other revolutions on record. This +procedure has another distinct advantage, that it enables us to dodge a +good deal of unprofitable debate over the definition of “revolution.” +Pages have been spent on the question as to whether to speak of an +“Industrial Revolution” (which began about 1760 and is in a sense still +going on) is or is not an abuse of the word “revolution.” Writers on +politics have worried over the differences between political and social +revolution, between a _coup d’état_, a _putsch_, and a revolution. We +propose to avoid this tangle by the simple, if metaphysically somewhat +disingenuous, device of declaring that since the movements with which +we are concerned are commonly called revolutions, they may be so called +once more. + +The difference between a revolution and other kinds of changes in +societies is, to judge from many past uses of the term, logically +nearer to that between a mountain and a hill than to that, say, between +the freezing point and the boiling point of a given substance. The +physicist can measure boiling points exactly; the social scientist +cannot measure change by any such exact thermometer, and say exactly +when ordinary change boils over into revolutionary change. One might +flirt with the notion of a “revolt point” for different social systems; +England’s being at, say, 200° in some conventional scale, France’s at +150°, Japan’s at 400°, and so on. But this would be nonsense of the +type altogether too common in the social sciences, which have long +been in the habit of putting up mathematical false fronts. In actual +practice, we let use distinguish for us between a hill and a mountain, +and there is no harm in accepting the decision of use as to what to +call a revolution. The important element in scientific definition +is that the definition should be based on facts, and enable us to +handle facts better; precision and neatness come definitely second, +and are defects if they are achieved by the neglect or distortion of +facts. Obviously in present usage the word revolution is a class-term +covering quite a number of concrete phenomena, from the introduction +of the spinning-mule to the ejection of Porfirio Diaz, and the job +of the systematist is to cling to the general term and devise useful +sub-classifications within it. + +To such simple truths are we reduced even before we enter fully into +the study of actual revolutions. Yet the really obvious, the really +commonplace, does not often find its way into print. What gets there +much more often is the literary commonplace, the cliché and the +stereotype, the beliefs men have about things and beings they never +deal with directly. The world of the pulp magazines is a world of +literary commonplaces. Many an intellectual in the world usually +rated above the pulps is driven by a no doubt commendable horror of +the literary commonplace into an equal horror of the obvious. The +scientist can afford no such indulgence. The first job of the scientist +is to be obvious, for only on a firm foundation in the obvious can +he build securely the more complex fabric of a developed science. He +may even have to be a bit insistent and repetitive about the obvious; +for in this modern world of ours, where so much of our experience is +the vicarious experience of sermons, books, pictures, plays, even the +simple souls who love commonplaces have literary commonplaces fobbed +off on them instead of the real thing. + +We shall, then, hope that whatever uniformities we can detect in the +revolutions we are analyzing will turn out to be obvious, to be just +what any sensible man already knew about revolutions. We shall be +genuinely disappointed if the anatomy of revolutions does not turn +out to be a familiar one. It will seem a sufficient gain if these +uniformities can be listed, recorded, as uniformities. Those whose +appetites demand great discoveries are, then, warned in advance. Here +they will find poor fare. Nor is this said in any spirit of mock +humility. A literary saw, now almost folk-wisdom, but still pretty +literary, is scornful over the mountain which labored and brought +forth only a ridiculous mouse. That mountain has perhaps never had due +recognition for what is surely a rather remarkable biological feat. +Moreover, the mouse was at least alive. Most mountains, when they go in +for this sort of thing, produce nothing better than lava, steam, and +hot air. + + + + +_Chapter_ TWO THE OLD REGIMES + + +_I. The Diagnosis of Preliminary Signs_ + +From France, which has long carried out a kind of linguistic Free +Trade, comes the phrase “old regime.” Applied to the history of France, +it covers roughly the society of the last two-thirds of the eighteenth +century, the generation or two preceding the revolution of 1789. We may +reasonably extend its use to describe the varied societies out of which +our revolutions emerged. Following our conceptual scheme, we shall look +in these societies for something like a revolutionary prodrome, for a +set of preliminary signs of the coming revolution. + +Such a search must not be undertaken without one important caution. +Disorder in some sense appears to be endemic in all societies, and +certainly in our Western society. The historian turned diagnostician +can find evidences of disorders and discontents in almost any society +he chooses to study. If a stable, or healthy, society is defined as one +in which there are no expressions of discontent with the government +or with existing institutions, in which no laws are ever broken, then +there are no stable or healthy societies. Not even the totalitarian +state, one suspects, can live up to this standard. + +Our normal or healthy society, then, will not be one in which there +are no criticisms of the government or the ruling class, no gloomy +sermons on the moral decay of the times, no Utopian dreams of a better +world around the corner, no strikes, no lock-outs, no unemployment, +no crime waves, no New Deals. All we can expect of what we may call a +healthy society is that there should be no striking excess of this sort +of thing, and perhaps also that most people should behave as if they +felt that, with all its faults, the society were a going concern. Then +we may look about for the kind of signs just described--discontents +expressed in words or deeds--and try to estimate their seriousness. +We shall, of course, very soon find that we are dealing with a large +number of variables, that for given societies studied in their old +regimes these variables combine variously and in different proportions, +and that in some cases certain variables are apparently absent +altogether or nearly so. We are surely unlikely to find in all the +cases we study one clear, omnipresent symptom, so that we could say: +when you find _x_ or _y_ in a society, you know that a revolution is +a month, or a year, or a decade, or any time in the future. On the +contrary, symptoms are apt to be many, varied, and by no means neatly +combined in a pattern. We shall be lucky if, to borrow another medical +term, they form a recognizable syndrome. + + +_II. Structural Weaknesses, Economic and Political_ + +As good children of our age, we are bound to start any such study as +this with the economic situation. All of us, no matter how little +sympathy we may have with organized communism, betray the extent +of Marx’s influence in the social studies--and of the influences +that influenced Marx--by the naturalness with which we ask the +question: “What had economic interests to do with it all?” Now it is +incontestable that in all four of the societies we are studying the +years preceding the outbreak of revolution witnessed unusually serious +economic, or at least financial, difficulties of a special kind. The +first two Stuarts were in perpetual conflict with their parliaments +over taxes, and the years just before 1640 resounded with complaints +about Ship Money, benevolences, tonnage and poundage and other terms +now strange to us, but once capable of making a hero of a very rich +Buckinghamshire gentleman named John Hampden, who was financially +quite able to pay much larger taxes than he did. Americans need not be +reminded of the part trouble over taxation played in the years just +before the shot fired at Concord defied all the laws of acoustics. “No +taxation without representation” may be rejected by all up-to-date +historians as in itself an adequate explanation of the beginnings of +the American revolution, but the fact remains that it was in the 1770’s +a slogan capable of exciting our fathers to action. In 1789 the French +Estates-General, the calling of which precipitated the revolution, +was made unavoidable by the bad financial state of the government. +Official France in 1789 was financially in as unhappy a way as, until +our own times, one would have believed it possible for a government +to be. In Russia in 1917 financial collapse did not perhaps stand out +so prominently because the Czarist regime had achieved an all-round +collapse in all fields of governmental activity, from war to village +administration. But three years of war had put such a strain on Russian +finances that, even with the support of the Allies, high prices and +scarcity were by 1917 most obvious factors in the general tension. + +Yet in all of these societies, it is the _government_ that is in +financial difficulties, not the societies themselves. To put the matter +negatively, our revolutions did not occur in societies economically +backward, nor in societies undergoing widespread economic misery or +depression. You will not find in these societies of the old regime +anything like unusually widespread economic want. In a specific +instance, of course, the standard against which want or depression +is measured must be the standard of living more or less acceptable +to a given group at a given time. What satisfied an English peasant +in 1640 would be misery and want for an Iowa farmer of 1938. It is +possible that certain groups in a society may be in unusual want +even though statistically that abstraction “society as a whole” is +enjoying an increasing--and almost equally abstract--“national income.” +Nevertheless, when national income is rapidly increasing, someone does +get the benefit. We must look more carefully at our four societies in +this respect. + +France in 1789 was a very striking example of a rich society with an +impoverished government. The eighteenth century had begun to collect +statistics about itself, and though these would not satisfy a modern +economist they enable us to be very certain about the increasing +prosperity of eighteenth-century France. Any series of indices--foreign +trade, population growth, building, manufactures, agricultural +production--will show a general upward trend all through the eighteenth +century. Here are a few examples: wastelands all over France were +being brought under the plow and in the _élection_ of Melun alone in +two years from 1783 to 1785 uncultivated land was reduced from 14,500 +to 10,000 arpents; Rouen in 1787 produced annually cotton cloth worth +fifty millions of _livres_, having at least doubled its production +in a generation; French trade with North Africa (the Barbary Coast) +increased from about 1,000,000 _livres_ in 1740 to 6,216,000 _livres_ +in 1788; the total French foreign trade had in 1787 increased nearly +100,000,000 _livres_ in the dozen years since the death of Louis XV in +1774. + +Even in our imperfect statistics we can distinguish short-term cyclical +variations, and it seems clear that in some respects, notably in +the wheat harvest, 1788-89 was a bad year. It was, however, by no +means a deep trough year like 1932 for this country. If business men +in eighteenth-century France had kept charts and made graphs, the +lines would have mounted with gratifying consistency through most of +the period preceding the French revolution. Now this prosperity was +certainly most unevenly shared. The people who got the lion’s share of +it seem to have been the merchants, bankers, business men, lawyers, +peasants who ran their own farms as businesses; the middle class, as we +have come to call it. It was precisely these prosperous people who in +the 1780’s were loudest against the government, most reluctant to save +it by paying taxes. + +In America, of course, with an empty continent available for the +distressed, general economic conditions in the eighteenth century +show increasing wealth and population, with economic distress a +purely relative matter. There can be no talk of starvation, of +grinding poverty in the New England of the Stamp Act. Even the +minor fluctuations of the business cycle fail to coincide with the +revolution, and the early years of the 1770’s were distinctly years +of prosperity. There were economic stresses and strains in colonial +America, as we shall soon see, but no class ground down with poverty. + +Nor is it easy to argue that early Stuart England was less prosperous +than late Tudor England had been. There is rather evidence that, +especially in the years of personal government which preceded the +Long Parliament, England was notably prosperous. Ramsay Muir writes +that “England had never known a more steady or more widely diffused +prosperity and the burden of taxation was less than in any other +country. The coming revolution was certainly not due to economic +distress.” Even in the Russia of 1917, apart from the shocking +breakdown of the machinery of government under war-strain, the +productive capacity of society as a whole was certainly greater than at +any other time in Russian history; and to take again the long view, the +economic graphs had all been mounting for Russia as a whole in the late +nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and the progress in trade and +production since the abortive revolution of 1905 had been notable. + +Our revolutions, then, clearly were not born in societies economically +retrograde; on the contrary, they took place in societies economically +progressive. This does not, of course, mean that no groups within these +societies cherished grievances mainly economic in character. Two main +foci for economic motives of discontent seem to stand out. First, and +much the less important, is the actual misery of certain groups in a +given society. No doubt in all our societies, even in America, there +was a sort of submarginal group of poor people whose release from +certain forms of restraint is a very important feature of revolution +itself. But in studying the preliminary signs of revolution, these +people are not very important. French republican historians have +long insisted on the importance of the bad harvest of 1788, the cold +winter of 1788-89, and the consequent sufferings of the poor. Bread +was relatively dear in that spring when the Estates-General first +assembled. There was apparently a tightening up of business conditions +in America in 1774-75, but certainly nothing like widespread distress +or unemployment. The local sufferings of Boston, considerable under the +Port Bill, were really a part of the revolution itself, and not a sign. +The winter of 1916-17 was certainly a bad one in Russia, with food +rationing in all the cities. + +The important thing to note, however, is that French and Russian +history are filled with famines, plagues, bad harvests, sometimes +local, sometimes national in sweep, many of which were accompanied by +sporadic rioting, but in each case only one by revolution. In neither +the English nor the American revolution do we find even this degree +of localized want or famine. Clearly, then, the economic distress of +the under-privileged, though it may well accompany a revolutionary +situation, is not one of the symptoms we need dwell upon. This the +subtler Marxists themselves recognize, and Trotsky has written: “In +reality, the mere existence of privations is not enough to cause an +insurrection; if it were, the masses would always be in revolt.” + +Of much greater importance is the existence among a group, or groups, +of a feeling that prevailing conditions limit or hinder their economic +activity. We are especially aware of this element in our American +revolution, and Professor A. M. Schlesinger has shown how the +prosperous merchants, their immediate interests damaged by the new +imperial policy of the British government, led an agitation against the +legislation of 1764 and 1765 and helped stir up a discontent among the +less well-to-do which these merchants later found a bit embarrassing. +No doubt, too, that many of the firm spots in the very uneven and +wavering policy of the British government--the Stamp Act and subsequent +disorders, the announced intention of enforcing the Navigation Act, and +so on--did have momentary ill effects on business, did throw men out +of work. The currency question was of course mismanaged in a day when +common sense did not very effectively supplement ignorance of economic +processes. The colonies were always lacking in specie, and business +enterprise suffered from this lack. Paper money, to which recourse was +inevitable, was also an inevitable source of further quarrels between +governors and governed. + +The working of economic motives to revolt among possessing classes +normally inclined to support existing institutions is especially clear +among the aristocrats of tidewater Virginia. Largely dependent on a +single crop, tobacco, used to a high standard of living, increasingly +indebted to London bankers, many of the planters hoped to recoup their +fortunes in the western lands they regarded as clearly belonging +to Virginia. George Washington’s own involvements in western land +speculations make one of the favorite topics of the debunkers. By +the Quebec Act of 1774, however, the British government took the +trans-Allegheny lands north of the Ohio from Virginia and other +claimant colonies, and incorporated them with Canada. This act gave a +grievance to others besides the planter-speculator. The closing of this +frontier was also an offense to a class perhaps normally more inclined +to revolt--the restless woodsmen and fur traders, and the only slightly +less restless small pioneer farmers who had already occupied the +Appalachian valleys, and were ready to pour over into the Kentucky and +Ohio country. The Quebec Act in itself does not, of course, explain the +American revolution; but taken with a long series of other acts, the +Stamp Act, the Navigation Act, the Molasses Act, it accounts for the +feeling so evident among active and ambitious groups in America that +British rule was an unnecessary and incalculable restraint, an obstacle +to their full success in life. + +In France the years preceding 1789 are marked by a series of measures +which antagonized different groups. With striking awkwardness, the +government offered with one hand what it withdrew with the other. +Tax-reform efforts, never carried through, offended privileged groups +without pleasing the unprivileged. Turgot’s attempted introduction +of _laissez-faire_ into labor relations offended all the vested +interests of the old guilds. The famous tariff reduction treaty with +England in 1786 directly affected French textiles for the worse, +increased unemployment in Normandy and other regions, and gave +the employer class a grievance against the government. So, too, in +seventeenth-century England, there is no doubt that the attempt to +revive obsolete forms of taxation seemed to London or Bristol merchants +a threat to their rising prosperity and importance. + +Thus we see that certain economic grievances--usually not in the form +of economic distress, but rather a feeling on the part of some of the +chief enterprising groups that their opportunities for getting on in +this world are unduly limited by political arrangements--would seem to +be one of the symptoms of revolution. These feelings must, of course, +be raised to an effective social pitch by propaganda, pressure-group +action, public meetings, and preferably a few good dramatic riots, like +the Boston Tea Party. As we shall see, these grievances, however close +they are to the pocketbook, must be made respectable, must touch the +soul. What is really but a restraint on a rising and already successful +group, or on several such groups, must appear as rank injustice towards +everyone in the society. Men may revolt partly or even mainly because +they are hindered, or, to use Dr. George Pettee’s expressive word, +_cramped_; but to the world--and, save for a very few hypocrites, +also to themselves--they must appear _wronged_. Revolutions cannot do +without the word “justice.” + +All this, however, is rather less than what the Marxists seem to mean +when they talk about the revolutions of the seventeenth, eighteenth, +and nineteenth centuries as deliberately the work of a class-conscious +bourgeoisie. Not having the benefit of the writings of Marx to go +by, nor indeed those of the still little known Adam Smith, even +eighteenth-century revolutionists and discontented spirits used a very +non-economic vocabulary. Of course the Marxist, aided by Freud, can +reply neatly that economic motivation drove these bourgeois at an un- +or sub-conscious level. The trouble with this, from the point of view +of the person brought up in the conventions of professional historical +research, is that the subconscious never, or rarely, writes documents +or makes speeches. If we confine ourselves to what these bourgeois +said and did, we find plenty of evidence that separate groups--the +American merchants, for instance--felt specific economic grievances, +but no signs that bourgeois, entrepreneurs, business men, were aware +that as a class their interests in free economic expansion were blocked +by existing “feudal” arrangements. Indeed in France a great many +business men were more annoyed by the semi-free trade treaty of 1786 +with England than by any other governmental step. Certainly one finds +no trace of men in England or America or France saying: “Organized +feudalism is preventing the triumph of middle-class capitalism. Let +us rise against it.” Nor, as a matter of fact, were there in these +countries just before the revolutions any serious economic barriers +to prevent the clever lad, even in the lower classes, from making +money if he possessed the money-making gifts. Dozens of careers--a +Pâris-Duverney, an Edmund Burke, a John Law, a John Hancock--show this. +Certainly one cannot deny that class antagonisms existed in these +countries; but so far as we can judge, these class antagonisms do not +seem to have a clear and simple economic basis. In twentieth-century +Russia, of course, these antagonisms were expressed in the language +of economics, even though here we shall probably also find that human +sentiments as well as human interests are involved. + +To sum up so far, if we look at economic life in these societies in the +years preceding revolution, we note first, that they have been on the +whole prosperous; second, that their governments are chronically short +of money--shorter, that is, than most governments usually are; third, +that certain groups feel that governmental policies are against their +particular economic interests; fourth, that, except in Russia, class +economic interests are not openly advanced in propaganda as a motive +for attempting to overturn existing political and social arrangements. +It is interesting to note here that Professor R. B. Merriman, in a +study of six seventeenth-century revolutions in England, France, the +Netherlands, Spain, Portugal, and Naples, finds that they all had in +common a financial origin, all began as protests against taxation. + +If now we turn from the stresses and strains of economic life to the +actual workings of the machinery of government, we find a much clearer +situation. Here, again, we must not posit a normal condition in which +this machinery works perfectly. Government here on earth is at best a +rough and ready thing, and the governed will always find something to +grumble about, from favoritism in distributing low-number automobile +license plates to post-office pen points. But there are obviously +degrees of governmental inefficiency, and degrees of patience on the +part of the governed. In our four societies the governments seem to +have been relatively inefficient, and the governed relatively impatient. + +Indeed, the near-bankruptcy of a government in a prosperous society +might be regarded as good _a priori_ evidence of its inefficiency, +at least in the old days when governments undertook few social or +“socialized” services. France in 1789 is a striking example of +a society the government of which simply no longer works well. +For generations French kings and their ministers had fought the +particularistic tendencies of the provinces to get out of the control +of Paris by devising a whole series of agencies of centralization, +which may be said in a sense to run from the _missi dominici_ of +Charlemagne to the _intendants_ of Richelieu and Louis XIV. Almost as +if they had been Anglo-Saxons, however, they destroyed very little +of the old in the process, so that France in 1789 was like an attic +stuffed full of all kinds of old furniture--including some fine +new chairs that just wouldn’t fit in the living room. We need not +go too deeply into the details of the situation, which can perhaps +be summed up graphically by saying that in the sense in which you +could make a map of the United States showing all our administrative +areas--townships, counties, states--you could not possibly make one +map of the administrative areas of old France. Even the confusion +added to an administrative map of the United States by the various, +and relatively new, federal commissions, bureaus, agencies, +administrations, does not begin to equal that of France in 1789. You +would need at least half a dozen maps to show the criss-cross units of +_paroisse_, _seigneurie_, _baillage_, _sénéchaussée_, _généralité_, +_gouvernement_, _pays d’état et d’élection_, _les cinq grosses fermes_, +_pays de grande et de petite gabelle_--and this is but a beginning. + +There is told about Louis XV one of those revealing anecdotes the +actual historical truth of which is unimportant, since they reflect +contemporary opinion of a concrete condition. Traveling in the +provinces, his majesty saw that a town hall or some such building in +which he was to be received had a leaky roof. “Ah, if I were only a +minister, I’d have that fixed,” he remarked. A government of which +such a tale could be told was perhaps despotic, but most certainly +inefficient. In general, it would seem the inefficiency is more readily +recognized by those who suffer from it than is the despotism. + +The incompetence of the English government under the first two Stuarts +is much less clear, but one can safely say that the central government +was not as well run, especially under James I, as it had been under +Elizabeth. What is most striking in the English situation is the total +inadequacy to modern government of a tax system based on the modest +needs of a feudal central government. For the government of James I was +beginning to be a modern government, to undertake certain elementary +social services, and to rest on a bureaucracy and an army that had to +be paid in cash. The chronic need for money which confronted James I +and Charles I was by no means a result of riotous living and courtly +extravagance, but was for the most part brought on by expenses no +modern government could have avoided. And yet their income was on the +whole determined and collected by old-fashioned medieval methods. At +any rate it is clear that the Stuarts needed money; but their attempts +to fill their coffers were awkward, hand-to-mouth expedients that +brought them into sharp quarrels with the only people from whom they +could collect money--the gentry and the middle class. Their struggles +with Parliament threw the whole machinery of English government out of +gear. + +In America the failure of the machinery was a double one. First, the +central colonial administration in Westminster had been allowed to grow +in the hit-or-miss fashion Anglophiles have long regarded as the height +of political wisdom. In this crisis, however, muddling through clearly +was not enough. The attempted reform in colonial administration after +the Seven Years’ War only made matters worse, as did Turgot’s attempted +reforms in France, since it was carried out in a series of advances +and retreats, cajolings and menaces, blowings-hot and blowings-cold. +Second, within most of the colonies the machinery of government had +never been properly adjusted to the frontier. The newer western regions +of many colonies complained that representation, courts, administrative +areas, were rigged in favor of the older seaboard settlements. + +The breakdown of Czarist administration is now so much a commonplace +that one is tempted to suspect that it has been a bit exaggerated. +Looking at the decades preceding 1917--for in all these countries we +have been considering the background of the revolutions and not their +actual outbreaks--it seems possible to maintain that the government +of Russia in peacetime, at least, was perhaps a bit more of a going +concern than the other governments we have been studying. From +Catherine the Great to Stolypin a great deal of actual improvement can +be seen in Russian government. But one thing is clear from the hundred +years preceding 1914. Russia could not organize herself for war, and +failure in war had, especially in 1905, brought with it a partial +collapse of the machinery of internal administration. We must be very +careful here to stick to facts and to avoid judgments which have so +insinuated themselves into our awareness of Russia that we regard +them as facts. It may be that there is some wild oriental element in +the Russian soul that makes Russians both incompetent and submissive +politically, subject, however, to fits of alcoholic rebellion. This +soul is certainly very hard to observe scientifically; and even in +literature one may hesitate to label Dostoevski more Russian than +Turgenev, who seems far from wild, oriental, drunken or mystic. For +our purposes, it is sufficient to note that the Russian _governmental_ +breakdown, clear in 1917 or even 1916, was by no means clear, say, in +1912. + +Finally, one of the most evident uniformities we can record is the +effort made in each of our societies to reform the machinery of +government. Nothing can be more erroneous than the picture of the old +regime as an unregenerate tyranny, sweeping to its end in a climax of +despotic indifference to the clamor of its abused subjects. Charles I +was working to “modernize” his government, to introduce into England +some of the efficient methods of the French. Strafford is in some ways +but an unlucky Richelieu. George III and his ministers were trying +very hard to pull together the scattered organs of British colonial +government. Indeed, it was this attempt at reform, this desire to work +out a new colonial “system,” that gave the revolutionary movement +in America a start. In both France and Russia, there is a series of +attempted reforms, associated with names like Turgot, Malesherbes, +Necker, and Stolypin. It is true that these reforms were incomplete, +that they were repealed or nullified by sabotage on the part of the +privileged. But they are on the record, an essential part of the +process that issued in revolution in these countries. + + +_III. The Desertion of the Intellectuals_ + +So far we have fixed our attention on the machinery of economic and +political life, and have tried to distinguish signs of any approaching +breakdown. Let us now turn to the state of mind--or better, feeling--of +various groups within these societies. First we may ask the question, +does the disorganization of the government find a counterpart in the +organization of its opponents? We shall have later to deal with what +are nowadays well known as “pressure groups,” men and women organized +in societies with special aims, societies which bring all sorts of +pressure--from propaganda and lobbying to terrorism--to the attaining +of their aims. Such societies in one form or another are apparently +a constituent part of all modern states and the mere fact of their +existence cannot be taken as a symptom of revolution, or we should have +to regard the A.S.P.C.A. or anti-billboard associations as signs of +a coming second American revolution. There seems to be no simple and +sole test to determine when and under what conditions the existence +of pressure groups may be taken as a symptom of approaching political +instability. The pre-revolutionary decades in our four societies do +show, however, an intensity of action on the part of pressure groups, +an action more and more directed as time goes on towards the radical +alteration of existing government. Certain groups, indeed, begin to +go beyond lobbying and propaganda, begin to plan and organize direct +action, or at least a supplanting of the government in some dramatic +way. + +In America the merchant’s committees organized to resist measures +for imperial control did a great deal of quite modern pressure-group +work, from straight propaganda to stirring up popular demonstrations +and to intercolonial co-operation through resolutions, conferences, +and so on. They form the prelude to those efficient revolutionary +cells, the correspondence committees Sam Adams handled so well in the +1770’s. Similar organizations are to be found lower down the social +scale, where they edge over into boisterous tavern parties. In many of +the colonies, the legislatures could be used for pressure-group work +against the imperial government in a way not possible in the other +societies we are studying. The New England town meeting provided a +ready-made framework for this kind of agitation. + +In France, the work of Cochin has shown how what he calls the _sociétés +de pensée_, informal groups gathered together to discuss the great +work of the Enlightenment, gradually turned to political agitation +and finally helped steer elections to the Estates-General of 1789. +Though the official school of historians in the Third Republic has +always distrusted such notions, it is difficult for an outsider not +to feel that Cochin has put his finger on the essential form of group +action which turned mere talk and speculation into revolutionary +political work. Freemasonry, even French Republican historians admit, +had a place in the preparation of the revolution. Masonic activity in +eighteenth-century France was clearly no dark plot, but it certainly +was far from being purely social, recreational, or educational. Almost +all the ambitious nobles and bankers, almost all the intellectuals, +were freemasons. Even at the time, clerical conservatives were shocked +at what they considered the subversive aspects of freemasonry. + +In Russia, societies of all degrees of hostility to things as they were +had long flourished. Nihilists, anarchists, socialists of all stripes, +liberals, westernizers, and anti-westernizers, expressed themselves +in various ways from bomb-throwing to voting at Duma elections. One +gathers from a consideration of the last years of the Czarist regime +that the diversity and cross-purposes of its opponents did much to +keep that regime in the saddle. Certainly the Russian revolution had +plenty of advance publicity, and the role of pressure groups in its +preparation is singularly clear. + +England here is a less clear case. Nevertheless there are definite +indications of systematic opposition of merchants and some of the +gentry to measures like Ship Money, and the parliamentary majorities +which were rolled up against Charles after the period of personal +government were the product of embryo pressure groups, as a glance at +the very prolific pamphlet literature of the time will show. Moreover, +the English revolution was the last of the great social overturns +within the active domination of specifically Christian ideas. In a +sense, the pressure groups most obvious in seventeenth-century England +are simply the Puritan churches, and especially the churches called +Independent. Their very existence was as much a menace to Charles as +was that of the Bolshevik party to Nicholas. + +It must be noted that some of these pressure groups, the American +merchant’s committees, the French _sociétés de pensée_ and freemasons, +for instance, would not in the heyday of their action have admitted +they were working for a revolution, certainly not for a violent +revolution. What perhaps separates them from pressure groups like +the A.S.P.C.A. or anti-billboard associations--which we can surely +agree are not to be taken as symptomatic of revolution--is their basic +aim at a radical change in important political processes. Thus the +American merchants were really aiming to reverse the whole new imperial +policy of Westminster; the French who prepared the elections to the +Third Estate were aiming at a new “constitution” for France. On the +other hand, some of the Russian organizations were from the very start +violently revolutionary; but these were not the important elements in +the Russian situation from 1905 to 1917, any more than the antinomians +or anarchistic religious sects were in England before 1639. + +There were, then, pressure groups with purposes more or less +revolutionary in all these societies. Their activity is seen against a +background of political and moral discussion which in these societies +seems particularly intense. We come now to a symptom of revolution well +brought out in Mr. Lyford P. Edwards’s _Natural History of Revolution_, +and there described as the “transfer of the allegiance of the +intellectuals.” Although the word “desertion” has perhaps unfortunate +moral overtones, the shorter phrase “desertion of the intellectuals” +is so much more convenient that we propose to use it, rather than the +longer one, in this study. + +We must, however, be clear as to what we are talking about before +we attempt to use the desertion of the intellectuals as a symptom. +Intellectuals we may define without undue worry over preciseness as +the writers, teachers, and preachers. Further subdivision into the +small group of leaders who initiate, or at least stand prominently in +the public eye, and the larger group who grind over material they get +from the leaders, is not of major importance here. What is important, +and somewhat puzzling, is the general position of the intellectuals +in our Western society since the Middle Ages. Clearly we must not +posit agreement among its intellectuals before we decide that a given +society is reasonably stable. Even in the thirteenth century, in +which so many of our contemporary thinkers find an enviable unanimity +as to fundamentals of belief, the amount of bickering among the +intellectuals was in reality very considerable. There were rebels and +prophets aplenty throughout the Middle Ages. In modern times we expect +the intellectuals to disagree. Moreover, for a number of reasons, +writers, teachers, and preachers are to a large degree committed by +their function to take a critical attitude towards the daily routine +of human affairs. Lacking experience of action under the burden of +responsibility, they do not learn how little _new_ action is usually +possible or effective. An intellectual as satisfied with the world as +with himself would simply not be an intellectual. + +Here, as so often in the social sciences, and indeed in the natural +sciences, we are dealing with a question where quantitative and +qualitative differences shade most confusingly one into the other. +Quantitatively, we may say that in a society markedly unstable there +seem to be absolutely more intellectuals, at any rate comparatively +more intellectuals, bitterly attacking existing institutions and +desirous of a considerable alteration in society, business, and +government. Purely metaphorically, we may compare intellectuals of this +sort to the white corpuscles, guardians of the bloodstream; but there +can be an excess of white corpuscles, and when this happens you have a +diseased condition. + +Qualitatively, we may discern a difference of attitude, partly, no +doubt, produced by the numbers and unity of these intellectuals in +attack, but partly produced by a subtler reality. Victorian England, +for instance, was a society in equilibrium, an equilibrium now in +retrospect a bit unstable, but still an equilibrium. Here Carlyle +upbraided a generation addicted to Morison’s Pills instead of to +heroes, Mill worried uncomfortably over the tyranny of the majority, +Matthew Arnold found England short of sweetness and light, Newman +sought at Rome an antidote for the poison of English liberalism, Morris +urged his countrymen to break up machines and return to the comforts +of the Middle Ages, and even Tennyson was worried over his failure to +attain to anything more useful than a high, vague, and philosophical +discontent. Many, though by no means all, Victorian intellectuals +were in disagreement among themselves, united apparently in nothing +but a profound dislike for their environment. If, however, you look +at them carefully you will find a curious agreement that not too much +is to be done right away to remedy matters. It is not, as we are told +so often of the scholastic intellectuals of the Middle Ages, that +these Victorians were in agreement on fundamental metaphysical and +theological assumptions. They weren’t in any such agreement. It is +rather that they were in agreement about the less dignified but in some +ways more important routines and habits of daily life, and they did not +expect the government to change such matters. + +The difference between the intellectual atmosphere of a group like the +Victorians, writers who cannot be said as a whole to have deserted, +and a group which has deserted, will be clear in a moment if we look +at that famous group in eighteenth-century France which stood at +the center of the great Enlightenment. One has first the impression +of immense numbers of intellectuals, great and small, all studying +matters political and sociological, all convinced that the world, +and especially France, needs making over from the tiniest and more +insignificant details to the most general moral and legal principles. +Any of the textbooks will give you the roll--Voltaire, Rousseau, +Diderot, Raynal, d’Holbach, Volney, Helvétius, d’Alembert, Condorcet, +Bernardin de St. Pierre, Beaumarchais--rebels all, men leveling +their wit against Church and State or seeking in Nature a perfection +that ought to be in France. You will hardly find active literary +conservatives like Sam Johnson or Sir Walter Scott, nor even literary +neutrals, men pursuing in letters a beauty or an understanding quite +outside politics. + +Literature in late eighteenth-century France is overwhelmingly +sociological. If you look in the yellowing remains of French +eighteenth-century journalism, if you try to reconstruct the chatter +of salons and clubs, you will find the same chorus of complaints and +criticisms of existing institutions, the same search for Nature’s +simple plan of perfection in politics. There is both a bitterness and +a completeness in this chorus of complaint that you will not find in +Victorian complaints. Statistically, one might establish the fact that +there were proportionately more intellectuals “against the government” +in eighteenth-century France than in nineteenth-century England. But +the difference goes beyond statistics, and into what we have called +the qualitative difference. The French have a tone, at once more +bitter and more hopeful, quite different from the Victorians. That +this is not altogether a national difference will be clear to anyone +reading the pamphlet literature of the age of Milton. Then the English +intellectuals had deserted, as they had not under Victoria. + +Russia, too, is a clear example of this desertion of the intellectuals. +There is certainly much more than political propaganda in the series +of novelists who have made Russian literature a part of the education +of us all. But there is unmistakably political and social criticism +of Czarist Russia even in the work of the most Olympian of them, +Turgenev. And the impression one gets from even a cursory view of +Russian intellectual life in the nineteenth and early twentieth +centuries is unmistakable; to write, teach, or preach in those days +meant being against the government. There are exceptions, and degrees +of opposition, but the above statement would probably be accepted even +by present-day Russian exiles. + +America is not so neat an instance. In Boston, for instance, in +the 1760’s and 70’s, a good many of the kind of people we are +discussing--intellectuals will have to do--were as firmly as such +people are now against so un-Bostonian an activity as sedition. It is +clear that Harvard was by no means unanimous against the Crown, let +alone in favor of the democratic machinations of her distinguished +alumnus, Sam Adams. But if the literary and journalistic output +in the colonies between 1750 and 1775--and even if we include the +sermons--could be statistically assigned as either for or against +the actual policies of the imperial government, there seems little +doubt as to the very considerable balance against these policies. The +Enlightenment, especially through Locke and Montesquieu, had come to +the American colonies. The natural and inalienable rights of man were +in this country, as in Europe, concepts introduced by intellectuals. + +England may seem at first sight an exception to the desertion of the +intellectuals. Lovelace, Suckling, even Donne seem hardly preoccupied +with sociology. Yet at a second glance it is quite clear that English +literature under the first two Stuarts is far from being the chorus of +loyal praise it was in the days of Queen Bess. A glance into Professor +Grierson’s _Cross Currents in English Literature in the Seventeenth +Century_ will show how much that literature was a dissolvent of the +merry England of the Renaissance. Even more important is the fact that +in those days there were no real newspapers, and the pamphlet took +their place. Now the pamphlet literature of the early seventeenth +century in England, quantitatively enormous, even by modern standards, +is almost wholly preoccupied with religion or politics--better, +religion _and_ politics--about as good an example of the desertion of +the intellectuals as could be found. Indeed, as Professor Gooch has +written, in the reign of James I “proclamation followed proclamation +against the sale of ‘Seditious and Puritan books’ and there was ‘much +talk of libels and dangerous writings.’” + +To what do these intellectuals desert? To another and better world +than that of the corrupt and inefficient old regimes. From a thousand +pens and voices there are built up in the years before the revolution +actually breaks out what one must now fashionably call the foundations +of the revolutionary myth--or folklore, or symbols, or ideology. Some +such better world of the ideal is contrasted with this immediate and +imperfect world in all the ethical and religious systems under which +Western men have lived, and notably in Christianity. It is not quite +accurate to assert that for medieval Christianity the other, ideal +world is safely put off to heaven. Yet it is clear that with the +Reformation and the Renaissance men began to think more earnestly +about bringing part of heaven, at any rate, to this earth. What +differentiates this ideal world of the revolutionaries from the better +world as conceived by more pedestrian persons is a flaming sense of the +immediacy of the ideal, a feeling that there is something in all men +better than their present fate, a conviction that what is, not only +ought not, but need not, be. + +We shall later meet these revolutionary ideals in their fully developed +forms. Here we need only notice that in the writings and preachings +of the English Puritans--and to a lesser extent the constitutional +lawyers--in those of the eighteenth-century _philosophes_, in those +of the nineteenth- and twentieth-century Marxists, the evil, and +indeed illegitimate existing regime is very effectively contrasted with +the good, and indeed inevitable, rule of right to come. In England, +America, and in France, the essential principle to which men appealed +against present conditions was Nature, with its clear and simple laws. +Ship Money in England, Stamp Act in America, patents of nobility in +France, were all contrary to the law of Nature. Even in England and +America, where there was also much appeal to rights to be found in +Magna Charta or the common law, the final appeal was always to a law +of Nature “engraved in the hearts of men.” As the Puritan Henry Parker +wrote in England, the common courts were “furnished only with rules of +particular justice, which rules being too narrow for so capacious a +subject [the relation of Crown to People] we must refer to those that +the original laws of Nature hold out to us.” By the eighteenth century +this kind of language had become almost universal among intellectuals. +That Nature always counseled what the intellectuals in revolt wanted +is an observation we must in these days feel bound to make. It seems +likely, however, that for most of those who appealed to her Nature +was as definite and explicit as God had once been, and as dialectical +materialism was to be. + +For the Russian writers and agitators of the Czarist regime, Nature +did not play so prominent a part. Not that Nature is lacking in the +pages of Tolstoy and his fellows, and the contrast between “artificial” +society and “natural” instincts was not disdained even in Socialist +propaganda. But the official ideology of most of the Russian radicals +was Marxism, and Marxism finds that the existence of capitalists, the +rule of the bourgeoisie, is altogether natural. Only, its destruction +by the proletariat is also natural, and this destruction is determined +by forces quite beyond capitalistic control. The inevitable march +of economic forces would then for the Marxists accomplish what the +English Puritan expected from God and the French _philosophe_ from +Nature and Reason. The essential thing all these pre-revolutionary +agitators have in common, the essential ingredient, intellectually at +least, in the revolutionary myth, is this abstract, all-powerful force, +this perfect ally. + +One special point is here worth our attention for a moment. Not only +does God, Nature, or dialectical materialism make the victory of the +present under-dog certain. The present upper-dog can be shown--perhaps +for propaganda purposes _must_ be shown--to have acquired his +preponderance by an accident, or a particularly dirty trick, while God +or Nature was temporarily off duty. Thus in the English revolution the +royalists and indeed the gentry as a whole were labeled “Normans,” +descendants of a group of foreign invaders with no right to English +soil. John Lilburne, the Leveller, goes so far as to assert that the +whole common law was a badge of slavery imposed upon the free people +of England by the Norman Conquest. American hatred of absentee British +government hardly needed such artificial fanning. The French were told +by no less a person than Siéyès that all their trouble came from the +usurpations of the Franks over a thousand years ago. French nobleman +in 1789 were descendants of barbarous Germans, while French commoners +were descendants of civilized Gauls and Romans. Revolution was but +restoring the conditions of 450 A.D. Marxism explained the exploiting +class without recourse to such pseudo-historical notions. And yet +there is plenty of reference in Russian revolutionary agitation to the +usurpation of land by the nobles, to their Varangian, or Tartar, or +Western, or at any rate foreign origins. + +Finally, a great deal of energy has been expended on the question +as to whether this revolutionary ideology “causes” revolutionary +action, or whether it is merely a sort of superfluous decoration +with which the revolutionists cover their real acts and real motives. +Most of this discussion is in the highest degree futile, since it is +based on a crude notion of causation altogether untenable in fruitful +scientific work beyond a very simple level. There is no more point +disputing whether Rousseau made the French revolution or the French +revolution made Rousseau than in disputing whether egg or chicken +came first. We note that in our pre-revolutionary societies the kind +of discontents, the specific difficulties about economic, social and +political conditions that hard-boiled moderns focus on are invariably +accompanied by a very great deal of writing and talking about ideals, +about a better world, about some very abstract forces tending to bring +about that better world. It is, indeed, the _expression_ of ideas, +rather than particular ideas--which may vary enormously in different +revolutions--that makes the uniformity. We find that ideas are always +a part of the pre-revolutionary situation, and we are quite content to +let it go at that. No ideas, no revolution. This does not mean that +ideas _cause_ revolutions. It merely means that they form part of the +mutually dependent variables we are studying. + + +_IV. Classes and Class Antagonisms_ + +Certain groups in our four societies of the old regimes nourished +feelings of dislike, mixed or unmixed with contempt, for other groups. +If we avoid the narrow economic connotations of the term, we may call +these groups classes; if we realize the struggle was not simply one +between two contending classes, feudal vs. bourgeois or bourgeois +vs. proletariat, we may even speak of class struggles. This type +of struggle in one form or another seems as endemic as many other +kinds of violence in the stablest of Western societies. Here again +we must not postulate for the normal society with which we contrast +our pre-revolutionary societies, a lying down together of the lion +and the lamb. But even so, it will soon appear that these class +hatreds are stepped up, exacerbated in a noticeable degree in the old +regimes. Class distinctions are seen, not as barriers the clever, +brave, or ambitious can cross, but as unnatural and unjust privileges, +established by wicked men against the express intention of Almighty +God, Nature, or Science. These class struggles are by no means simple +duels; there are groups within groups, currents within currents. We +must try and analyze some of these currents. + +In the first place, what may be called the ruling class seems in +all four of our societies to be divided and inept. By ruling class +we understand, it may be too generously, the people who run things, +the people in the public eye--the politicians, the important civil +servants, the bankers, the men of affairs, the great landowning nobles, +the officers, the priesthood, perhaps even some of the intellectuals. +Formal nobility of the blood has in the Western world usually been a +much too narrow test of membership in a ruling class. Even in early +modern times, the ruling class was something like what we have outlined +above, the minority of men and women who seemed to lead dramatic lives, +about whom the more exciting scandals arose, who set the fashion, who +had wealth, position, or at least reputation, who, in short, ruled. +Indeed, in a socially stable society it seems likely that the great +masses of poor and middling folk, as also the obscure and unsuccessful +people who by birth and training might seem to be in the ruling class, +really accept the leadership of those at the top of the social pyramid, +and dream rather of _joining_ them than of _dislodging_ them. + +Now the ruling classes in our societies seem, and not simply _a +posteriori_ because they were in fact overthrown, to have been +unsuccessful in fulfilling their functions. It is unlikely that short +of Sparta or Prussia the simpler military virtues alone are enough +for a ruling class. Such a class ought not, however, to shrink from +the use of force to maintain itself, and it ought not to value wit +and originality in its own members too highly. Wit, at any rate, it +can usually hire adequately enough from other sources. A mixture of +the military virtues, of respect for established ways of thinking +and behaving, and of willingness to compromise, is probably an +adequate rough approximation of the qualities of a successful ruling +class--qualities clearly possessed by the Romans of Punic War times, +and the English of the eighteenth century, though the latter failed in +relations with America. + +When numerous and influential members of such a class begin to believe +that they hold power unjustly, or that all men are brothers, equal in +the eyes of eternal justice, or that the beliefs they were brought up +on are silly, or that “after us the deluge,” they are not likely to +resist successfully any serious attacks on their social, economic and +political position. The subject of the decadence of a ruling class, and +the relation of this decadence to revolution, is a fascinating and, +like so much of sociology, a relatively unexplored subject. We can +here do no more than suggest that this decadence is not necessarily +a “moral” decadence if by “moral” you mean what a good evangelical +Christian means by that word. Successful ruling classes have not +infrequently been quite addicted to cruel sports, drinking, gambling, +adultery, and other similar pursuits which we should no doubt all agree +to condemn. It is a reasonable assertion that the virtuous Lafayette +was a much clearer sign of the unfitness of the French aristocracy to +rule than were Pompadour or even Du Barry. + +The Russians here provide us with a _locus classicus_. To judge from +what appears of them in print, Russian aristocrats for decades before +1917 had been in the habit of bemoaning the futility of life, the +backwardness of Russia, the Slavic sorrows of their condition. No doubt +this is an exaggeration. But clearly many of the Russian ruling classes +had an uneasy feeling that their privileges would not last. Many of +them, like Tolstoy, went over to the other side. Others turned liberal, +and began that process of granting concessions here and withdrawing +them there that we have already noticed in France. Even in court +circles, it was quite the fashion by 1916 to ridicule the Czar and his +intimates. As Protopopov, a hated Czarist minister, writes: “Even the +very highest classes became _frondeurs_ before the revolution; in the +grand salons and clubs the policy of the government received harsh and +unfriendly criticism. The relations which had been formed in the Czar’s +family were analyzed and talked over. Little anecdotes were passed +about the head of the state. Verses were composed. Many grand dukes +openly attended these meetings.... A sense of the danger of this sport +did not awaken until the last moment.” + +Finally, when those of them who had positions of political power did +use force, they used it sporadically and inefficiently. We shall have +more to say about this general problem of the use of force when we +come to the first stages of actual revolution. In this connection it +will be sufficient that the Russian ruling classes, in spite of their +celebrated Asiatic background, were by the late nineteenth century more +than half ashamed to use force, and therefore used it badly, so that on +the whole those on whom force was inflicted were stimulated rather than +repressed. The line in actual practice of government between force and +persuasion is a subtle one, not to be drawn by formulas, by “science” +or textbooks, but by men skilled in the art of ruling. One of the best +signs of the unfitness of the ruling class to rule is the absence of +this skill among its members. And this absence is recorded in history +in the cumulated minor disturbances and discontents which precede +revolution. + +Russia remains the classic instance of an inept ruling class, but +France is almost as good a case. The salons in which the old regime was +torn apart--verbally, of course--were presided over by noblewomen and +attended by noblemen. Princes of the blood royal became freemasons, +and if they did not quite plot the overthrow of all decency, as +witch-hunters like Mrs. Nesta Webster seem to think, at least sought to +improve themselves out of their privileges and rank. Perhaps nowhere +better than in France is to be seen one of the concomitants of the kind +of disintegration of the ruling class we have been discussing. This is +the deliberate espousal by members of the ruling class of the cause +of discontented or repressed classes--upper-dogs voluntarily turning +under-dogs. It is not altogether cynical to hazard the guess that this +is sometimes an indication that there is about to be a reversal in +the position of the dogs. Lafayette is in some ways a good example of +this kind of upper-dog, since he seems to have been an unintelligent +and ambitious man, whose course was largely determined by fashion. +Lafayette tried to do what his own circle would most admire, and since +he could not dance well--and his circle admired good dancing--he +went to fight for freedom in America, which was also something his +circle admired. But ruling classes cannot profitably fight for +freedom--freedom, that is, for the other fellow. + +In America this decadence of a ruling class is not a prominent symptom +of the coming revolution. Our native ruling class was still young, +still in the process of formation, and seen as a class exhibited none +of the ineptness we have noted in Russia and France. But of course a +large part of our ruling class espoused the American revolution, which +is probably one of the reasons why our revolution stopped short of a +full-blooded Reign of Terror. As far as the ruling class in England at +the time of our revolution is concerned, it was very far from being +capable of a resolute course towards America. It managed to hold on +in England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but only by +granting concessions to the middle classes, concessions which its +French counterpart refused to grant. Many of these Englishmen were, +however, anything but defenders of the established order as regards +relations with America. Fox, Burke, the Whigs in general, sided with +the Americans even after 1775, and their attitude unquestionably helped +give the rebellious Americans heart. + +Even in seventeenth-century England this sort of symptom is to be +discerned. In the English aristocracy of Jacobean times there is not, +of course, exactly the same mixture of weariness, doubt, humanitarian +hopes, and irresponsibility we have found in Russia or in France. +Yet most of these elements can be found in the group later known as +Cavaliers. Picturesque, romantic, appealing though the Cavaliers +seem to us now in literature and tradition, it would be hard to +maintain that they displayed the solidarity and balance necessary to +a ruling class. And the Cavalier legend is not wholly a product of +the years after the Great Rebellion. The Cavaliers were romantic even +to themselves, and in a harsh world of Puritans and money-making had +already begun that search for a golden past so characteristic of the +émigrés of later revolutions. Nor are the enlightened or inspired, the +Lafayettes or the Tolstoys, altogether lacking in the English ruling +classes of the time. Even though you accept the nineteenth-century +evaluation of the English as always hard-headed, practical, +compromise-loving, you will do well to recall that a Tudor gentleman +gave the word “Utopia” to political thought, and that Harrington’s +famous Utopia, _Oceana_, is a seventeenth-century product. + +Still, what conceals from us the extent to which many able and +ambitious English gentlemen had deserted the established order in early +Stuart times is that they deserted, not as did Lafayette, to America +and the abstract rights of man, but to God and the way of salvation. +Puritanism, in one or another of its many forms, proved attractive not +merely to humble men, nor even to traders and bankers, but to many of +the gentry and the nobility. Do not forget that Cromwell himself was a +gentleman. Finally, what we may call the politico-legal opposition to +the first two Stuarts--though separation of political and religious for +that time is purely a matter of analysis, the two being inextricably +mixed in the feelings of contemporaries--this politico-legal opposition +was, as far as leadership went, almost wholly recruited from gentry +and nobility. Men like Hampden and Essex resemble Washington in that +they are essentially conservatives driven to rebellion by the ineptness +of their immediate rulers; they are not, like Lafayette, sentimental +deserters of their class. + +Except perhaps in America, we find the ruling classes in the old +regimes markedly divided, markedly unsuited to fulfill the functions +of a ruling class. Some have joined the intellectuals and deserted the +established order, have indeed often become leaders in the crusade +for a new order; others have turned rebels, less because of hope for +the future than because of boredom with the present; others have gone +soft, or indifferent, or cynical. Many, possibly even most of the +rank-and-file of the ruling classes, the English squire, the French and +Russian country nobleman, retained the simple faith in themselves and +their position which is apparently necessary to a ruling class. But +the tone of life in the upper classes was not set by such as these. +Fashion had deserted with the intellectuals. The sober virtues, the +whole complex series of value-judgments which guards a privileged class +from itself and others, all these were out of fashion at Whitehall, at +Versailles, at the old court of St. Petersburg. _Esprit de corps_ is a +subtle thing, difficult, indeed impossible, to analyze with the methods +of the chemist or the statistician. The intricate balance of sentiments +and habits which hold men together in any such group as those we have +been discussing may be altered by changes apparently insignificant, +and extremely difficult to trace. But the fact of the alteration is +clear. The very wit, refinement, the cultural graces so evident in what +we know of the Cavaliers, the French aristocrats of Versailles and +the salons, the Russian upper classes of the ballet, the opera, the +novel, are signs of the decadence, not necessarily moral, but certainly +political, of a ruling class. + +Nor is it possible, even for those who find the simple forms of the +economic interpretation of history inadequate and misleading, to deny +that in three of our societies--England, France, and Russia--there +are clear signs that the ruling classes were in a very shaky economic +position. In each case there had been a notable rise in the standards +of living of the nobility and gentry; finer houses, finer clothes, +the luxuries brought by the decorative arts, by sculpture, painting, +and music all cost a great deal of money, and were not in a purely +economic sense good investments. Though the prohibitions against a +gentleman’s making money in business were by no means as absolute, even +in France, as they sometimes appear in textbooks of history, it is a +fact that most gentlemen had neither the gifts nor the training for +such money-making. Most of them lived from agricultural rents, which +could not be stretched to meet their rising costs, and from pensions, +sinecures, and other aids from the government, which were at least +as inelastic. Notably for the French and Russian upper classes, it +is clear that some of the discontent which undermined their _esprit +de corps_ at the outbreak of the revolution had its origin in their +economic difficulties. + +So much for the upper or ruling classes. The classes immediately +beneath them in the social structure display in England, France, and +Russia, and to a lesser degree in America, a more than ordinary dislike +for their superiors. Here once more we are confronted with the problem +of what is normal in class relationships in Western societies. The +view that in a normal society there are no class antagonisms is as +much to be rejected as the Marxist view that in such societies--at +least up to the present--the class struggle has been unceasingly and +equally bitter and ferocious. A picture of our Old South, for instance, +which sees contented, well-fed slaves, prosperous artisans and traders +with no dislike for their gentlemanly patrons, a serene plantation +aristocracy nobly patriarchal, is plain nonsense; but so, too, is one +which sees only smoldering discontent among the slaves, envy and hatred +among poor whites, pride and fear among the planters. Men in Western +societies have never been free, equal, and brothers; there has always +been political, social, and economic inequality among groups within +these societies, groups we commonly call classes. The existence of +antagonisms among classes is a fact, however much it may be to the +interest of the ruling class to deny it. But the various antagonisms, +by no means purely economic, which set class against class are in a +normal society subordinated to other concerns, wider or narrower, cut +across by other conflicts, subdued by other interests. At any rate they +are not concentrated, embittered, strengthened by an almost unanimous +support from the intellectuals, as we shall find they were in the old +regimes we are studying. + +In England, where we have usually been taught to believe that class +hatreds were minimized by the good relations between country gentlemen +and villagers, by the absorption of younger sons of the nobility in +the middle classes, by some English sense of solidarity and decency, +the seventeenth century saw a bitter class struggle. The following +quotation from Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson is not only a fair specimen of the +feelings of a middle-class Puritan towards the nobility; it can stand +as a sample of the kind of intense, and always highly moral, atmosphere +of such class antagonisms in other pre-revolutionary societies: “The +court of the King [James I] was a nursery of lust and intemperance +... the nobility of the land was utterly debased.... The generality +of the gentry of the land soon learned the court fashion, and every +great house in the country soon became a sty of uncleanness. Then began +murder, incest, adultery, drunkenness, swearing, fornication, and all +sorts of ribaldry to be countenanced vices because they held such +conformity to the court example.” Or, more gently: + + “courtesy, + Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds + With smoky rafters, than in tapst’ry halls + And courts of princes, where it first was nam’d + And yet is most pretended.” + +This was not written by an eighteenth-century disciple of Rousseau, but +by John Milton. + +We need hardly labor the point that both the French and the Russian +middle classes hated, and envied, and felt morally superior to their +aristocracies, and that their writings are filled with passages +indicative of the strength and spread of these sentiments. At fourteen +years Manon Phlipon, later as Madame Roland something more than Egeria +to the Girondin party, told her mother after a week spent with a lady +of the suite of the Dauphiness, “Another few days and I shall detest +these people so much that I shan’t be able to control my hatred.” And +to her mother’s question as to what harm these aristocrats did her she +answered, “It’s just feeling the injustice, thinking every moment about +the absurdity of it all.” The higher the French bourgeois rose, the +closer he came in his way of life to the aristocracy, the more vividly +in some respects he felt the gap which separated him from his neighbor +with four quarters of nobility. “It wasn’t the taxes,” wrote Rivarol in +his memoirs, “nor the _lettres de cachet_, nor all the other abuses of +authority; it wasn’t the vexations of the _intendants_, nor the ruinous +delays of justice which most irritated the nation; it was the prejudice +of nobility. What proves this is that it was the bourgeois, the men +of letters, the financiers, in fine all those who were envious of the +nobility, who raised against the nobility the petty bourgeois of the +towns and the peasants in the country.” + +How far the lower classes or the proletariat really were stirred +against their betters in these societies is not wholly clear, save +perhaps in Russia. In England there can be little doubt that the more +prosperous artisan classes in the big cities, and in regions like East +Anglia the peasantry, were won over to Puritanism; and this meant +hostility to the Anglican upper classes. Mixed inextricably with the +religious fervor and phrases of the pamphlet literature is a great deal +of social hatred, which later came out fully as the revolution moved +towards its radical extreme. The French peasantry in many, perhaps +most regions, showed by acts in 1789 that they hated their absentee +landlords, or the institutions of land tenure, but conclusive evidence +that this hatred was much stronger and more universal than it had been +for several hundred years has not yet been produced. We cannot be sure +whether they hated individuals or a status. Certainly the old notion, +evident even in the work of Taine, that the French peasantry were +in 1789 smarting under a sharpened double oppression from government +and from _seigneurs_, is at least a revolutionary myth rather than +an historical fact. A great deal of work remains to be done in the +objective study of the actual sentiments of suppressed or oppressed +classes at the bottom of the social scale. + +The Russian proletariat, at least in the cities, had certainly been +exposed to several generations of Marxist propaganda, and had acquired, +so far as its elite goes, a sense of mission against nobles and middle +class alike. As the first manifesto of the Social Democratic party, +issued in 1898 before the split between Mensheviks and Bolsheviks, +put it: “The farther one goes to the East of Europe the weaker, baser +and more cowardly becomes the bourgeoisie and the larger cultural and +political tasks fall to the lot of the proletariat. On its strong +shoulders the Russian working class must bear and will bear the cause +of conquering political liberty. This is necessary, but only as the +first step toward the achievement of the great historic mission of the +proletariat: the creation of a social order in which there will be no +place for the exploitation of man by man. The Russian proletariat will +cast off from itself the yoke of the autocracy in order with all the +greater energy to continue the struggle with capitalism and with the +bourgeoisie until the final victory of socialism.” Just how the Russian +peasants felt towards classes above them is a difficult problem. We may +assume a good deal of variety, as also in eighteenth-century France, +depending on local conditions, the character of the landlord, the +prosperity of the peasants themselves. There is some indication that +by the twentieth century one can risk the generalization: the more +prosperous the peasants, the more discontented. But here, as throughout +the range of our study, trustworthy materials of one kind are scarce: +neither historians nor sociologists have paid sufficient systematic +attention to the _sentiments_ towards other groups which seem to +prevail in a given social group or class. + +We have noted the ineptness of the ruling classes, and the existence +among the middle and parts of the lower of more than normally strong +sentiments hostile to the ruling classes. It remains to consider how +far these class lines were rigid, how far, in particular the “career +open to talents,” existed in these societies. One might well argue _a +priori_ that in Western societies any approach to a rigid caste-system +which would bar the possibility of rise to the able but low-born, any +stoppage of what Pareto calls the _circulation of the elites_, would +be a very important preliminary symptom of revolution. Able men do +seem to get born in the humblest ranks, and an accumulation of able +and discontented men would provide splendid natural leaders for groups +restive and ready for revolt. Yet this test of the career open to +talents is one of the hardest to apply to our societies. The normal +standard for a Western society is here very difficult indeed to sketch, +even as roughly as we have done for our other variables. + +One might start with a characteristic American assumption, and say +that in this country at least we have full freedom of opportunity. +Very well, let us take at random some self-made contemporaries--Babe +Ruth, Henry Ford, Rudy Vallée, Sinclair Lewis. It would be comforting +to be able to say confidently that in the societies of the old regimes +these able men would have been kept down by hard-and-fast caste lines, +condemned to obscurity or to revolt. Unfortunately, it would not be +true. We must not, indeed, be indecently sure about such hypothetical +matters. The professional athlete as such could probably not have +attained in any other society than our own the wealth Mr. Ruth has nor +as much honor--public attention, if you prefer--save perhaps in the +Rome of the gladiators. Yet in early feudal society sheer physical +strength might have won him knighthood, and even in later societies +noble patronage might have carried him far. Mr. Ford may be taken as +the entrepreneur-inventor, and though one doubts whether any other +society than our own would have made him a national hero, it is likely +that in eighteenth-century France or in twentieth-century Russia he +could have secured substantial financial success. Mr. Vallée is the +man who amuses, and Western society has usually rewarded adequately, +and sometimes highly, those who could amuse it. Perhaps aristocracies +have never quite concealed their contempt and democracies have made +no attempt to conceal their admiration for those who amused them. Yet +actors, musicians, jesters and their like seem not, in spite of the +example of Figaro, to have been greatly irked by their social status +in the past. Certainly the French eighteenth century was kind enough +to them, even economically. As for Mr. Lewis, he would presumably have +been in his element among the _philosophes_, and with proper national +and racial adjustments, among the Gorkys and the Chekhovs. He would +have made proportionately quite as much money, and have been even more +honored. + +We are dealing with very subtle variables of human sentiments. At all +times and in all societies, probably, some men feel that they have +abilities which are denied free play by existing social, political, and +economic restrictions. Some men always feel balked, cramped, kept-down, +and some of them really are. Probably in societies on the eve of +revolution there are very large numbers of such men. Yet it is very +difficult to put one’s finger on those kinds of activity, those fields +of distinction, where this restraint is most felt. Here as elsewhere +the given situation is always a complex of restraints, no one or two +or three of which would, without additional elements of disturbance, +be anything but a quite normal social fact. Moreover, there are other +elements besides restraint. Men conditioned to loyalty may put up with +great hardships. Fact and feeling seem to vary independently. Thus in +Western society there has always been--say in comparison with Hindu +caste-society--a very high degree of the “career open to talents.” The +circulation of the elites has always gone on. We can here but glance +at our societies and see whether there were any special limitations to +that circulation in the years prior to the revolution. + +In eighteenth-century France, the way to wealth and fame was open +practically unrestricted to business men, adventurers, adventuresses, +actors, artists, writers--to Pâris-Duverney, to Cagliostro, to Mme. Du +Barry, to Talma, to Watteau, to Voltaire. The way to political power +was much harder, though the Abbé Dubois, an apothecary’s son, could +attain its highest peak. On the whole, substantial political power, the +power of making programs and policies, was open to the courtier talents +even more than to noble birth; administrative power was almost entirely +in the hands of the _noblesse de robe_, an hereditary, conscientious, +and not incapable bureaucracy. Social position, the highest honors, we +are frequently told, went only to those who could show four quarters of +nobility. Certainly a privileged nobility did exist, and was disliked +in the abstract by many a bourgeois who had no concrete experience +of it. Twentieth-century Russia is in many ways a close parallel in +these respects. A privileged nobility topped the social system, and +closed the very highest social honor to plebeian talent. This class was +disliked and bitterly disliked by those who saw it from the outside; +and no doubt many of its individual members were insufferably haughty, +overbearing, dissolute, vain, empty-headed, and the rest, just as if +they had come from the pages of _A Tale of Two Cities_. Yet the way to +fame and fortune was far from closed in pre-revolutionary Russia, with +new industries rising, with an active theatrical, ballet, and musical +life, with university and administrative positions open to ambitious +and able young men even from the villages. Rasputin you may perhaps +regard as an unhealthy example of the career open to talents, but you +can hardly deny that the Siberian monk reached the top. + +One clue to this problem of the circulation of the elite may lie in a +stoppage of that circulation in a particular and very delicate spot, +such as the professions, and especially the “intellectual” professions; +that is, among people especially liable to the feeling of frustration, +of being excluded from good things. One is struck in studying French +society in the years just preceding the revolution with a kind of jam +in the stream of bright young men descending on Paris to write and talk +their way to fortune. Mercier in his _Tableau de Paris_ tells how every +sunny day young men may be seen on the quays, washing and drying their +only shirts, ruffled and lacy symbol of high social status. There are +also in Russia signs of pressure in competition in the ranks of what we +should call “white-collar men,” intellectuals, bureaucrats, clerks, and +the like. We know that a similar stoppage in the society of the Weimar +Republic had a great deal to do with the Nazi revolution of 1933. This +symptom is, like most others that indicate strong social tensions, +nearly lacking in eighteenth-century America, and extremely difficult +to trace, partly for lack of proper historical materials, in the +English revolution. Naturally enough, a stoppage in the circulation of +the elite into journalism, literature, and such professions is likely +to be rapidly reflected in the desertion of the intellectuals. + +Finally, social antagonisms seem to be at their strongest when a class +has attained to wealth, but is, or feels itself, shut out from the +highest social distinction, and from positions of evident and open +political power. This, broadly speaking, does describe the situation +of the Calvinist gentry and merchants in seventeenth-century England, +the colonial aristocracy and merchants of America, at least in relation +to the British ruling class, the French bourgeois of the eighteenth +and the Russian bourgeois of the nineteenth centuries. Individuals in +each society might rise from ranks even lower than the middle class, +and surmount all these barriers. Even as a class, the bourgeoisie in +all four societies really had a determining voice in major political +decisions even before the revolutions. But the countries were “run” +by other, and privileged, beings, and from the highest social +distinctions the bourgeoisie as a class were hopelessly excluded. +Moreover, this exclusion was symbolized, manifested continuously in +all but the most remote rural districts. Long before Marx, long before +Harrington’s _Oceana_, practical men knew that political power and +social distinction are the handmaids of economic power. Where wealth +cannot buy everything--everything of this world, at any rate--you have +a fairly reliable preliminary sign of revolution. + + +_V. Summary_ + +In summing up, the most striking thing we must note is that all +of these preliminary signs--government deficits, complaints over +taxation, governmental favoring of one set of economic interests over +another, administrative entanglements and confusions, desertion of the +intellectuals, loss of self-confidence among many members of the ruling +class, conversion of many members of that class to the belief that +their privileges are unjust or harmful to society, the intensification +of social antagonisms, the stoppage at certain points (usually in the +professions, the arts, perhaps the white-collar jobs generally) of +the career open to talents, the separation of economic power from +political power and social distinction--some, if not most of these +signs may be found in almost any modern society at any time. With the +wisdom of hindsight, we can now say that in four, or at least in three, +of our societies these--and no doubt other signs we have omitted to +consider--existed in some unusual combination and intensities before +revolution ensued. But clearly we must infer from what we have just +done that in its earlier stages diagnosis of revolution is extremely +difficult, and certainly cannot be reduced to a neat formula, a recipe, +a set of rules. This is also true of the diagnosis of human illnesses. +The best diagnosticians, we are told on good authority, could not +possibly analyze out and put into formal logical sequence all the steps +they take in the clinical diagnosis of disease. + +We are not, however, left altogether helpless before some mystic +gift for short-term prophecy in the successful diagnostician. His +methods are not those of magic, but rather the gift for making what +is, until familiarity has made it easy, the difficult and rarely +explicit synthesis of past experience and present observation into a +successful generalization--or hunch if you prefer. And we can in this +instance hazard something further as to signs of revolution in our four +societies. In all of them, and especially in France and in Russia, +there is as the actual outbreak of revolution approaches increasing +talk about revolution, increasing consciousness of social tension, +increasing “cramp” and irritation. Prophets of evil there always are, +and we need not lay much stress on any specific prediction of a given +revolution, such as the Marquis d’Argenson made forty years before the +French revolution. But when such fears--or hopes--become something like +common property, when they are, to use a very aged metaphor to which +the invention of the radio has given an ironic twist, in the air, then +it is fairly safe to take this general sentiment as a pretty conclusive +sign of revolution. Even then, however, we have a sign difficult to +use. For people never seem to expect revolution for themselves, but +only for their children. The actual revolution is always a surprise. +This is true even for Russia, where the revolution had long been in the +air. + +It must, however, be really in the air, and not simply in the mouths +of professional seers or timid conservatives. It must, above all, +go beyond the intellectuals. For, valuable as the desertion of the +intellectuals is as a sign if found with others, as part of a syndrome, +in itself alone this desertion proves nothing. After all, one of the +great functions of the intellectuals in Western society has always +been to shake ordinary mortals out of their unthinking optimism, and +Cassandra has perhaps as much claim as Plato to be founder of a great +academic tradition. But Cassandra’s successors have not quite achieved +her unhappy infallibility. + + + + +_Chapter_ THREE FIRST STAGES OF REVOLUTION + + +_I. The Eternal Figaro_ + +There is in the _Marriage of Figaro_ of Beaumarchais, first performed +at Paris in 1784, a famous soliloquy by Figaro in which much of what +we have laboriously analyzed in the previous chapter is dramatically +focused in a few pages. Figaro himself is the able young man unjustly +kept down by the pressure of a social system built on privilege. As the +scene opens he is waiting in the darkness to surprise in an assignation +his bride and his master, the Count Almaviva. His first reflections +on feminine inconstancy pass over very rapidly into a violent attack +on his noble master. “Because you are a great lord, you think you are +a great genius! ... nobility, fortune, rank, appointments; all this +makes a man so proud! But what have you done to deserve so many good +things? You took the trouble to get born!” Then he looks back on the +struggles that have filled his life--his obscure birth, his education +in chemistry, pharmacy, surgery, all barely sufficing, because of his +lack of high birth, to give him the privilege of practicing veterinary +medicine; his venture in playwrighting, and his inevitable clash with +the censor; his turn to writing on state finance, and the resulting +prison term; another essay in literature, this time in journalism, and +another suppression; rejection as candidate for a government job, since +unfortunately he was fitted for the post; a turn as gambler, when his +noble patrons took most of his profits; and his final return to his old +trade as barber-surgeon. + +Scattered throughout the soliloquy are a train of epigrams which +delighted fashionable audiences in the old regime, and were taken up +throughout the country. Indeed, families would come up to Paris chiefly +to see the _Marriage of Figaro_, and hear French wit at its best +directed against a wicked government. Here are a few of Beaumarchais’ +most famous jibes: “Not being able to degrade the human spirit, they +get revenge by mistreating it.” “Only little men fear little writings.” +“For the job an accountant was necessary; a dancer got it.” “To get on +in this world, _savoir faire_ is worth more than _savoir_.” And, of +course, that bitter jibe at the Count’s attainments--“qu’avez-vous fait +pour tant de biens? _vous vous êtes donné la peine de naître._” Here +in this one speech are so many indications of the coming revolution +that, with the wisdom of after-the-fact that comes so naturally to the +historian, we can say the revolution is already almost full-blown in +Figaro. Including, of course, the fact that, after a long vacillation, +the censor _did not stop_ Beaumarchais’ play. + +The years just preceding the actual outbreak of revolution witness a +crescendo of protests against the tyranny of the government, a hail of +pamphlets, plays, addresses, an outburst of activity on the part of +interested pressure groups. Facing all this, the government certainly +does not live up to the reputation its opponents seek to make for +it. Its tyrannous attempts at suppressing the rebellious opposition +may perhaps fail because that opposition is too strong, resourceful, +and virtuous; or its attempts may fail because they are carried out +half-heartedly and inefficiently by governmental agents more than half +won over to the opposition. The fact remains that they do fail. + +Even the period of the personal rule of Charles I which preceded the +English revolution was not altogether as quiet and successful as it +seemed on the surface to be. Many Puritan divines escaped Laud’s +attempt to drive them from the Established Church, and the others found +plenty of independent pulpits and printing presses. Strafford might +write in 1638 that “the People are in great quietness and, if I be +not much mistaken, well-satisfied if not delighted with his Majesty’s +gracious government and protection”; but he was much mistaken. At the +very least these eleven years of personal government were but the calm +before the storm. + +In our other three societies we do not even find this deceptive calm, +but a steady growth of revolutionary agitation. In America hardly a +colony escaped some form of rioting in the period between the Stamp Act +and Lexington, and all of them saw a steady growth of agitation through +merchants’ committees, correspondence committees, Sons of Liberty, +and similar groups. The French government in the 1780’s drew nearer +and nearer to bankruptcy, and with each expedient to avoid bankruptcy +brought nearer the calling of the Estates-General and the signal for +revolution. As for Russia, it was a society strikingly conscious of +the possibilities of revolution. Upper-class Russians had for more +than a generation been turning their uneasiness into the smooth coin +of conversation: “sitting upon a volcano,” “after us the deluge,” “the +storm is rising.” In 1905 and 1906, under pressure of defeat by the +Japanese, a kind of dress rehearsal of the great revolution took place. +The patriotic enthusiasms of 1914 for a while stilled conspicuous +preparation for revolution, but military defeat in 1915 and 1916 +brought back conditions that grew daily more and more like those of +1905. + + +_II. The Events of the First Stages_ + +The Russian revolution began more dramatically and definitely with a +single event--street riots in Petrograd in 1917--than did any of our +other revolutions. Yet even in Russia it took four or five days for the +revolutionists themselves to realize that the confused milling around +of Petrograd crowds might bring about the fall of the Romanovs. History +and patriotic ritual have singled out dramatic episodes--the battles +at Lexington and Concord, the fall of the Bastille--as beginning +revolutions. But though contemporaries were aware of the dramatic +quality of such events, they were not always sure that they had turned +revolutionary agitation into revolution. The first steps in revolution +are by no means always dear to the revolutionists themselves, and the +transition from agitation to action is rarely a sudden and definite +thing. + +Charles I came to the throne in 1624, and almost immediately found +himself engaged with the House of Commons in a struggle chiefly over +taxes. Out of the conflict there emerged the Petition of Right of +1628, in which the Commons forced the King’s consent to a statement +of definite limitations on the royal power: Charles promised not to +raise forced loans, not to quarter soldiers on unwilling householders, +not to permit officers to exercise martial law in time of peace, not +to send anyone to prison without showing cause why he had done so. +Emboldened by this success, the Commons under the leadership of the +emotional Sir John Eliot went on to refuse to grant the King the usual +form of customs’ revenue--tonnage and poundage--and to insist in an +aggressive and indeed revolutionary way on their privileges. At a +final debate on March 2, 1629, two men, Denzil Holles and Valentine, +held down the Speaker in his chair by force while Eliot proposed a +ringing declaration on the illegality of paying tonnage and poundage +without a grant from Parliament. Conservatives pushed forward to free +the Speaker. There followed a riotous debate fully worthy of the +standards set later by the National Assembly in France, but somehow +or other in the confusion Eliot’s resolutions were put through before +the royal order dissolving the Parliament could be carried out. The +parliamentarians had made a grand gesture of protest. From that day, no +Parliament met in England for eleven years. Eliot, jailed for rioting, +maintained that the King had no power over a member of the House of +Commons. He died a most effective martyr in 1632. + +In the years of personal rule Charles, aided by his two great +supporters, Strafford and Laud, did his best to organize the government +of England in accordance with notions of efficient centralization and +expert rule which were the chief political heritage of the Renaissance. +He did a job in some ways surprisingly good. But he may, as +nineteenth-century liberal historians fondly believed, have been going +against the basic grain of the English character and the basic mold of +English institutions; he was most certainly going bankrupt. A clash +with the Scotch Presbyterians probably merely hastened the inevitable. +Charles called a Parliament in the spring of 1640, but dissolved it +after less than a month. A Scotch army now invaded England, and Charles +had to buy it off. To get money he had to call another Parliament. +The Short Parliament was, therefore, but a breaking of the ground for +the Long Parliament, which met on November 3, 1640, was dissolved on +April 20, 1653, and was brought briefly to life again in 1659, just +before the restoration of the Stuarts. The life of this extraordinary +assembly thus spans almost completely the twenty years of the English +revolution. + +The Long Parliament got to work at once, for on November 11, 1640, +a week after it first met, Pym moved the impeachment of Strafford +for high treason. The impeachment, held up by the more conservative +House of Lords, was turned early in 1641 into a bill of attainder. +Impeachment involved at least the forms of judicial action, whereas +attainder was a simple legislative act. The Lords were willing enough +to abandon Strafford, if not to try him, and on May 12th he fell under +the executioner’s ax. Less than eight years later that ax was to reach +his royal master. + +Actual outbreak of armed hostilities between Charles and the +Parliament was not to come for another year. Parliament voted by a +majority of eleven the Grand Remonstrance, a long summing-up of all +the grievances accumulated against the King in the seventeen years +of his reign. Charles replied to this vote of want of confidence by +attempting to arrest six members of Parliament, Lord Kimbolton in the +Lords, Pym, Hampden, Haselrig, Holles, and Strode in the Commons, who +had compromised themselves by entering into technically treasonous +negotiations with the invading Scotch army. Charles rashly came down to +the House of Commons himself with armed men and attempted to seize the +members. He was met with something of the kind of passive resistance +the French Third Estate displayed at the royal session of June 17, +1789, when Louis XVI ordered them to give up attempting to form a +National Assembly. The threatened members fled to the City of London, +and Charles was again checkmated. The Commons were now so aggressively +successful that they decided to take over the military by naming +officers in the militia and train-bands. Charles, in turn, began to +build up his own army, and set up his standard at Nottingham in August, +1642. The Civil War had begun. + +Where in this long and closely knit series of events you wish to say +the English revolution fairly began is partly a subjective matter. +Somewhere between the calling of the Long Parliament in 1640, and the +outbreak of the war two years later, the first critical steps in the +revolution were undertaken. Perhaps the execution of Strafford is a +good dramatic date, or Charles’s futile attempt to seize the five +members in the Commons. At any rate, by the summer of 1642 the English +revolution had taken on unmistakable form. + +Events in America moved hardly more rapidly. In a sense, you can +maintain that the American revolution really began in 1765 with the +Stamp Act; or at any rate that the agitation which culminated in the +repeal of that Act was a kind of rehearsal for the great movement of +the seventies. The imperial government was determined to do something +about the American colonists, and Townshend’s mild duties on tea, +glass, lead and a few other articles imported into America were +accompanied by an attempt to collect them in an efficient modern way. +Under Townshend’s act His Majesty’s customs houses in America were +equipped with a hopeful and willing bureaucracy. The result was a +series of clashes with increasingly well-organized groups of Americans. +Tarring and feathering of informers, stealing sequestered goods from +under the noses of customs officers, jeering at British troops, led up +to the more dramatic incidents enshrined in the textbooks: the seizure +of the _Gaspee_ at Providence, the Boston Massacre of 1770, the Boston +Tea Party, the burning of the _Peggy Stewart_ at Annapolis. + +The closing of the port of Boston, the dispatch of Gage and his troops +to Massachusetts, the Quebec Act itself, were all really measures taken +by the imperial government against colonies already in revolt. You may, +if you are interested in such matters, discuss at length the question +as to just when the American revolution is to be considered as formally +beginning. You may go as late as the first Continental Congress in +1774, or the battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775, or even the most +famous Fourth of July in 1776. But the complex group-struggles out of +which revolutions actually grow only later turn into formal sources for +patriotic ritual. The first steps in the American revolution were many +and spread over something like a decade. Only an absolutist mind could +insist that out of this long process a given detail be isolated as the +beginning of the American revolution. + +The French revolution of 1789 may be said to have been incubating for +several decades. Overt and definite resistance to the royal government, +as in the parliaments of Charles I and in the American colonial +assemblies, is not to be found in France, which was wholly without +such representative bodies. The nearest thing to such a body was the +_parlement de Paris_, a kind of supreme court composed of judges who +were nobles and held their positions by heredity. It was precisely this +_parlement_, followed by the provincial _parlements_, that began in the +1780’s an open quarrel with the Crown, which culminated in a dramatic +defiance of royal power and the forced exile of the judges. Popular +opinion, at least in Paris, was overwhelmingly with the judges, and +privileged nobles though they were, they became heroes and martyrs for +a day. + +Meanwhile, approaching bankruptcy had forced the King to call in 1787 +an Assembly of Notables, a kind of hastily gathered special commission +of prominent nobles, from whom Louis XVI in good eighteenth-century +style no doubt expected enlightenment. This he certainly obtained, for +the Assembly contained many upper-class intellectuals, like Lafayette, +who were convinced that France must cease to be a “despotism,” must +endow itself with an up-to-date constitution of the kind the new states +of the American union were making fashionable. The Assembly of Notables +was accordingly very divided and doubtful about ways of filling the +empty treasury, but clear that further consultation with the nation was +necessary. The Crown finally yielded, brought back into the government +the Swiss commoner, Necker, who had a reputation as a financial wizard, +and summoned a meeting of the Estates-General for the spring of 1789. + +This Estates-General had last met in 1614, and there was some +uncertainty as to how one went about electing it. The antiquarians +came to the rescue, however, and three hundred representatives of the +First Estate, or clergy, three hundred of the Second, or nobility, and +six hundred of the Third, or commons, were chosen, practically in time +for the first meeting. The double representation of the Third Estate +had no precedent in 1614 or earlier. It was, in fact, a revolutionary +step, a concession wrung from the King, an admission that in some way +or another the Third Estate was more important than the others. In the +old constitution, however, final decisions were made by the orders +as units; that is, if the Clergy and the Nobles as separate houses +agreed on a policy, they could carry it, two to one, even against the +dissenting Third Estate. When the Estates met in May, 1789, the great +question was whether to follow the old constitution and vote by orders, +or to vote in one great assembly of twelve hundred members in which the +doubled Third Estate, plus the “liberals” among the other two orders, +would have a clear majority. Louis had characteristically permitted +this problem to remain vague and unsettled, and only after the Third +Estate had insisted on one great assembly did he royally insist on +three separate ones. + +The issue out of which the French revolution formally grew was this +simple one of vote by orders or vote by individuals in one assembly. +The Third Estate stood pat, and refused to transact any business until +the other orders joined it in what was to be called--and the name +was a sound piece of propaganda for the revolutionists--the National +Assembly. There are certain dramatic moments in a two-months’ struggle +which was essentially parliamentary and lacking in the more physical +kinds of violence. Shut out by a royal blunder from their usual meeting +place, the Third Estate on June 20, 1789, met hastily in a large indoor +tennis court, and swore not to disperse until they had endowed France +with a constitution. + +Thanks partly to David’s famous painting, which is more symbolic +than realistic, this episode is now second only to the taking of the +Bastille in the patriotic ritual of the present Third French Republic. +Actually more important was the glowering defiance of the Third Estate +when in a plenary royal session of June 23rd the King called on all +the prestige and pageantry of the Crown to enforce voting by separate +orders. At this session the Third Estate remained behind after the +King’s withdrawal, and Mirabeau is said to have made his famous reply +to a request from the King’s Grand Master of Ceremonies that they in +turn withdraw: “We are assembled here by the will of the nation, and we +will not leave except by force.” Shortly afterwards the King yielded, +though probably not to Mirabeau’s rhetoric. By the beginning of July +the National Assembly had been duly constituted, and was ready to put +the Enlightenment, so long in France a matter of theory, into practice. +The first steps in the French revolution had been taken. + +Those who insist that you must have violence before you can label +revolution as begun will date the great French revolution from July +14, 1789, when a Paris mob, aided by soldiers who had gone over to +the popular side, took the gloomy fortress-prison of the Bastille on +the eastern edge of the city. Bastille Day is the French republican +Fourth of July, a great holy day in one of the best organized of our +contemporary nationalist religions. As such it has been surrounded +by legends, endowed with a martyrology, safely withdrawn from the +unedifying touch of history. To an outsider, the taking of the Bastille +seems an involved and confusing process, at least as much the result of +the weakness of the royal governor, De Launay, as of the strength of +the besiegers. What is important for us is that Paris was in the hands +of a mob for three days, and that this mob was clearly shouting against +the King, shouting for the National Assembly. After the rioting had +died down, the National Assembly--or rather, the revolutionary majority +in the Assembly--could proceed in the useful assurance that the people +were on its side, could feel that it had _carte blanche_ to neglect +royal protests as it went about its task of remaking France. + +The revolution in Russia got under way with great speed. As we have +seen in a previous chapter, there were plenty of precedents for +a Russian uprising, and several generations of Russians had been +discussing the inevitable coming of the storm. The first steps which +led up to the February revolution of 1917, however, took even advanced +leaders like Kerensky somewhat by surprise. Socialist parties the +world over had been used to celebrating March 8th as Women’s Day. On +that day--February 23rd of the old Russian calendar, whence the name, +February revolution, by which it has gone down in history--crowds +of women workers from the factory districts poured into the streets +calling for bread. Each day thereafter crowds increased. Orators of the +radical group harangued at street corners. Soldiers from the large +Petrograd wartime garrison mingled with the crowds, seemed indeed to +sympathize with them. Even the Cossacks were not hostile to the people, +or at any rate, seemed to lack stomach for fighting. + +Meanwhile the authorities were consulting, and as piecemeal measures +failed to work, they decided on March 11th to repress the troubles +in accordance with a fine neat plan already drawn up on paper for +just such emergency. But the plan didn’t work. The soldiers of the +garrison, anxious not to be sent to the front, began to waver. On +March 12th the first of the mutinies broke out, and one after another +the famous regiments of the Imperial Army poured out of the barracks, +but to join, not to shoot on, the crowds. Obscure leaders, sergeants, +factory foremen and the like arose and directed their little groups at +strategic points. Out of all the confusion and madness which makes the +detailed record of events in this week the despair of the historian, +one clear fact came out. There was no imperial government left in the +capital, no formal government at all. Gradually there emerged the +nucleus of the Soviet government to come, organized through trade +unions, Socialist groups, and other working-class sources. The Czar and +his advisers, too bewildered and incompetent to control the movement, +did prevent the legal Duma from taking control. Instead, moderates +of all sorts got together to form the nucleus of the provisional +government to come. In such a chaotic condition, indeed, it would seem +that the action of the moderates is a uniformity of revolutions. Their +sentiments and training impel them to try and put a stop to disorder, +to salvage what they can of established routines. + +Socialists and liberals alike were agreed that the Czar must abdicate. +Nicholas himself had started from Headquarters for his palace at +Tsarskoe Selo near Petrograd, but was held up at Pskov by the +increasing disorders. Here, on March 15th, he decided to abdicate in +favor of his brother, the Grand Duke Michael. What centralized power +there was in Russia seems to have been in the hands of a committee of +the Duma, and this committee waited on Michael in person. Kerensky, +who was on the committee, seems at this juncture to have been as +neurotically dramatic as usual; at Michael’s refusal to accept +the Crown he went into a transport of delight. Russia was to be a +republic. Michael’s own decision to refuse seems to have been dictated +by personal cowardice. One of the nice problems of history in the +conditional centers around the question of what would have happened had +this Romanov been a man of courage, decision, and ability. No one can +say, but the question reminds us that even in its most sociological +moments, history cannot neglect the drama of personality and chance. + +With Michael’s abdication on March 16, 1917, the Russian revolution had +clearly begun. There were repercussions in the provinces, and in some +remote spots the fall of the Romanovs was not realized for weeks. But +the work of those eight days had destroyed a centralized bureaucratic +government at its most vital point--its head and nerve-center. Much +in Russia was unchanged by the February revolution, but politically a +week had done what it had taken years to do in England and France. The +Romanovs had gone much more rapidly than the Stuarts and the Bourbons. + + +_III. Spontaneity or Planning?_ + +Even from the foregoing sketch of the first steps in four revolutions, +it should be clear that to the narrative historian the differences +in the four are striking. The English revolution was begun in one of +the oldest, best established of representative bodies; the American +revolution began chiefly in New England, among people used to town +meetings and colonial legislatures; the French revolution developed out +of the meetings of a legislative body with no immediate precedents, +staffed by men unused to parliamentary life; the Russian revolution +started in street riots in the capital city, and went on without +benefit of any parliamentary body, since even the old Duma met only +through an emergency committee. There are differences of personality, +differences of time and place. Charles raising his standard in hope +at Nottingham in 1642 seems worlds apart from the abject Nicholas, +buffeted about the northern plains in a railroad train at the mercy +of striking workers and troops in revolt, drearily abdicating in the +provincial gloom of Pskov. There may even be racial differences. +The orderly and almost chivalrous Civil War of the English seems at +first sight something quite unlike the madness of July 14th, or the +tragicomic spectacle of metropolitan Petrograd in the hands of a mob +without even a good slogan. + +Yet this last should give us pause. At the informal level of mere +dramatic or narrative likenesses, these early stages of revolution +have similarities as striking as their differences. Speaker Lenthall +defying Charles come to seize the five members, Mirabeau thundering his +challenge to the bewildered Grand Master of Ceremonies at the royal +session of June 23rd, Patrick Henry warning a king of the unfortunate +fate of certain other rulers--these seem to be speaking the same +language, assuming the same effective postures. The English House of +Commons in the pandemonium of its final session in 1629 seems much +like the French National Assembly during its frequent heated moments, +and not worlds apart from certain important sessions of the Petrograd +soviet. + +For the emotions of men in groups, and the rhetoric and gestures +necessary to bring out and make effective for action these emotions, +are more uniform than the rationalist likes to think them. Any +representative body of several hundred responds in definite ways +to certain definite stimuli, and it does this the more certainly +and invariably because it cannot respond to logic, cannot confront +a new situation with complete experimental freedom. Especially are +excited representative bodies much alike, whether they are composed +of “irresponsible” Russians, “excitable” Frenchmen, or “sensible” +Englishmen. We need not be surprised if in these early stages of +revolution there are clear parallels in the behavior of men in such +groups. + +It is, however, more important for us to see whether there are not in +these four revolutions uniformities which can be grouped together, +related to the whole course of the movements, given a place in our +conceptual scheme of the fever. What evidence have we here that we are +dealing with a process which has definite and common stages? Do these +first steps in revolution take place under conditions sociologically +similar even if dramatically dissimilar? + +One uniformity is crystal-clear. In all four of our societies, the +existing government attempted to collect monies from people who refused +to pay. All four of our revolutions started among people who objected +to certain taxes, who organized to protest them, and who finally +reached the point of agitating for the elimination and replacement of +the existing government. This does not necessarily mean that those who +resisted taxation foresaw or wished a radical revolution. It does mean +that the transition from talking about necessary great changes--for +in all our societies, as we have seen, something was in the air--to +concrete action, was made under the stimulus of an unpopular form of +taxation. + +A second uniformity is quite as clear, though the consequences that +derive from it are much more obscure. The events in this stage, these +first steps in revolution, do most certainly bring out of the confused +discontents of the old regime two parties into clear opposition, and +indeed into preliminary violence. These parties we may call briefly the +party of the old regime and the party of the revolution. Moreover, by +the end of this period of the first stages, the party of the revolution +has won. The muddy waters of doubt and debate are momentarily cleared. +The revolution, hardly begun, seems over. In England after the Long +Parliament had disposed of Strafford and wrung concessions from the +King, in America after Concord, and that greatest of moral victories, +Bunker Hill, in France after the fall of the Bastille, in Russia after +the abdication, there is a brief period of joy and hope, the illusory +but charming honeymoon of that impossible pair, the Real and the Ideal. + +That our four revolutions ran through some such early stage as this, +in which the opposition between old and new crystallized dramatically, +and the new won a striking victory, is too evident for the most +old-fashioned narrative historian to deny. Over the reasons why this +stage developed as it did, however, there is still a running dispute +among writers who concern themselves with such matters--historians, +political theorists, sociologists, essayists. The heart of the +dispute is a matter which must be got straight before anything like a +sociology of revolutions is possible. Briefly, one set of disputants +maintains that these glorious first steps in revolution are taken +almost spontaneously by a united nation rising in its might and virtue +to check its oppressors; another maintains that these first steps are +the fruition of a series of interlocking plots initiated by small but +determined groups of malcontents. By and large the first view is that +taken by persons favorable to a given revolution, the second by persons +hostile to it, or at least loyal to the memory of the old regime. +There are, however, all sorts of variations on the theme, and different +commentators have differently balanced these elements of spontaneity +and planning. + +This opposition is clearest, and in some ways quite adequately typical +for our purpose, in the historiography of the French revolution. +Augustin Cochin used to describe this opposition as that between the +_thèse des circonstances_ and the _thèse du complot_, the explanation +by circumstances and the explanation by plot. Those who on the whole +regarded the revolution as a good thing maintained that the people +of France, and especially the people of Paris, were goaded into +revolt by the oppression of king and court, that the circumstances of +their social, political, and economic life in 1789 are in themselves +adequate explanation of what happened. Given such circumstances, and +men and women of French blood, and you have revolution as naturally, +as _automatically_, in a sense, as you have an explosion when a spark +strikes gunpowder. + +This figure may be applied to specific steps in the revolutionary +process. The Bastille riots, for instance, were not planned in any +sense. Paris heard of the dismissal of Necker, noted that the King +was concentrating troops around Paris, and in a million forgotten +conversations spread the fear that the King and his party were about to +dismiss the revolutionary National Assembly and rule by armed force. +Paris therefore rose in its might, and with a sure instinct seized on +the Bastille as a symbol of the hated old regime, and destroyed it. The +sovereign people were self-guided in all this, moved if you like by a +natural force, by a hatred of injustice, and were led by hundreds of +small men, by noncommissioned officers of the revolution, but not by +any general staff, not by any small group who had deliberately planned +an aggression. + +The opposite theory maintains that the whole revolutionary movement +in France was the work of a scheming and unprincipled minority, +freemasons, _philosophes_, professional agitators. These people in the +second half of the eighteenth century got control of the press and the +platform, and persistently indoctrinated the literate part of France +with a hatred for established institutions, and especially for the +Church. As the government found itself in increasingly bad financial +straits, these plotters wormed their way into its councils, and finally +secured the promise of an Estates-General. By clever electioneering +in a populace not used to representative assemblies, they filled the +Third Estate with members of their sect, and succeeded in penetrating +even the ranks of the First and Second Estates. They had been used +to working together, and thanks to years of discussion of political +reform, they knew what they wanted. The more determined and initiated +of these plotters could therefore control the actions of the large and +shapeless National Assembly, though they were a minority of its twelve +hundred members. + +Bastille Day seems very different to the writers of this school. Louis +was concentrating troops to protect, not to dissolve, the National +Assembly, to protect it from the minority of wild radicals who were +abusing its machinery. Fearing defeat, these radicals stirred up Paris +in a hundred ways: they sent orators to street corners and cafés; +they distributed radical news-sheets and pamphlets; they sent agents +to spread discontent among the royal troops, and especially among the +French Guard; they even subsidized prostitutes to get at the soldiers +more effectively. Everything was planned ahead for a more propitious +moment, and when the dismissal of Necker afforded that moment, the +signal was given and Paris rose. But not spontaneously. Somewhere a +general staff--Mirabeau was on it, and most of the popular figures +in the National Assembly--was working, carefully sowing the seeds of +rebellion. + +With the appropriate changes, this sort of opposition can be made out +in all our revolutions. To the Stuart partisans--and they still find +their way into print--the Great Rebellion was an unhappily successful +conspiracy of gloomy money-grubbing Calvinists against the Merrie +England of tradition. More commonly, since the Whigs gave the tone +to modern England, the Parliamentarians are seen as liberty-loving +children of Magna Charta, who rose quite naturally and spontaneously +against unbearable Stuart tyranny. American Loyalists always maintained +that the best of the country was with them, that the Whigs had won +by superior organization and chicanery. Most of us, of course, +were brought up to regard George III as a personal tyrant, a hirer +of Hessians, a man who wished to grind the Americans into unmanly +submission. The American revolution was to us the spontaneous reply of +injured freemen to British insolence. + +Finally, some Russian _émigrés_ still seem to believe that a minority +of unscrupulous Bolsheviks somehow engineered both the February and +the October revolutions. Marxism attaches no shame to revolution, and +admits the importance of planning and leadership in revolutionary +movements. Therefore, though official Communist explanations by no +means soft-pedal Czarist guilt and oppression, though they insist that +the people of Russia in February, 1917, wholeheartedly and nearly +unanimously rose against the Czar, still they admit, and indeed glory +in, the role of leaders consciously planning a revolution. At least, +this was the explanation accepted in orthodox Marxist circles, and it +is classically stated in the first volume of Trotsky’s _History of the +Russian Revolution_. There are signs in Stalinite Russia of a reversion +to something analogous to an American schoolbook explanation of our +own revolution; Czarist tyranny and the spontaneous popular uprising +are emphasized, the tactics of a revolutionary minority minimized. + +Indeed, that these two conflicting, and in their exaggerated forms +antithetical, explanations of the first steps in revolution should +arise is in itself a clear uniformity to be got from the comparative +study of revolutions. Very early indeed these two interpretations +arise, the victorious revolutionists attributing their success to the +rise of the many against intolerable tyranny, the defeated supporters +of the old regime attributing their failure to the unscrupulous tactics +of a minority of clever, wicked men. Neither explanation is interested +primarily in facts or the scientific interpretation of facts; both are +aimed at satisfying human sentiments. It is interesting to note that +even the revolutionists’ explanation seeks to gloss over violence, +seems in a way ashamed of the fact of revolution. This again is +perfectly natural, since once in power the revolutionists wish to stay +in power. A useful help to this end is a general feeling among the +governed that it is wrong to resist those in authority. By and large, +successful revolutionists do not often subscribe to Jefferson’s desire +to see a revolution every twenty years or so; rather, they endeavor +to create a myth of their own revolution, which becomes the last one +necessary. Marxist theory even anticipates this, since the proletarian +revolution ushers in the classless society, where there will be no +class struggle, and no need for revolution. + +It is, however, possible for us to go further than simply noting +this division of opinion among the lovers and the haters of a given +revolution. We may venture the generalization that there is some +truth in both the explanation by circumstances and the explanation by +plot. This may seem to many in 1938 a characteristically liberal and +wishy-washy solution, a stupid adhesion to an outdated notion of a +golden mean. But it does seem to have a more satisfactory relation with +the facts than either extreme explanation. + +Bastille Day may again serve as an example. There is plenty of +evidence that organized groups did help stir up trouble in Paris in +those July days. We know that the radical groups, the “patriots” +in the Assembly at Versailles, had close connections with Paris +politicians. A kind of skeletal political organization had been left +over from the Paris elections to the Third Estate, and these Parisian +electors helped greatly to bring a new municipal organization, and +a new National Guard, out of the confusion of the riots. Most of +the Royalist description of agents circulating in the crowds, of +inflammatory pamphleteering, even perhaps of subsidized prostitutes, +is substantially true. What is not true is that these elements of +planning can be traced to any one or two small plotting groups, to +the Duc d’Orléans, or to a few freemasons. The word “plot” is indeed +a bad one--except for the purposes of Rightist propaganda, where it +proves very useful indeed. Rather we must say that there is evidence of +the activities of a number of groups of the kind any careful observer +of societies knows well--pressure groups, embryo political parties, +semi-religious sects, gatherings on the lunatic fringe. There is, +however, no evidence that these very dissimilar groups were in July, +1789, managed from any one center, controlled by a small scheming +directorate. + +On the contrary, there is every evidence that once the dismissal of +Necker got these various groups excited, what followed was in a sense +spontaneous mob action. No one has yet said the final word on the +psychology of crowds, but it is fairly well accepted that the behavior +of crowds cannot be completely gauged in advance by the cleverest of +mob leaders. Actually it is clear that in Paris in those days there +was not one mob, but at least several dozens. People came out in the +street because their neighbors were already out. They paraded up and +down, shouting and singing, stopping now and then for another drink, +or to hear another street-corner orator. Self-constituted leaders of +little groups certainly supplemented any planned action. The decision +to march on the Bastille seems to have been taken independently in +several quarters. No one knows for sure who first had the brilliant +idea of going to the Invalides Hospital to secure small arms. The +rioting seems to have died out less because the Bastille fell than +because the rioters were tired out. Three days is a long time to be +riotous, or drunk, or both. + +What holds for the taking of the Bastille holds for the general +preparatory work and the first stages of revolutions as we have +discussed them in this chapter. The Russian February revolution +centered in Petrograd in one week and seems like the Bastille riots +on a larger scale. Trotsky has done some of his best writing in his +description of the February revolution and in his balanced accounting +of what must be considered spontaneous popular risings and what must +be attributed to conscious revolutionary tactics. Kerensky writes +flatly that the revolution “came of its own accord, unengineered by +anyone, born in the chaos of the collapse of Tsardom.” Trotsky admits +that no one planned or expected the revolution when it did come, that +it developed out of ordinary Socialist manifestations and a mild +bread-riot. But that development, he adds, was led by “conscious and +tempered workers, educated for the most part by the party of Lenin.” We +may question the last part of this statement, but there can be no doubt +that in the last few days of the Petrograd riots leaders of the coming +soviet and leaders of the coming provisional government combined to +force out the Czarist government. + +The role of the pressure group is especially conspicuous in the +early stages of the American revolution. As early as April, 1763, +the merchants of Boston organized a “Society for Encouraging Trade +and Commerce with the Province of Massachusetts Bay” with a standing +committee of fifteen to watch trade affairs and call meetings. Accounts +of their activities were sent to merchants in other colonies. To +combat the Stamp Act the radicals organized themselves as “Sons of +Liberty,” a mass organization which met at times openly, at times +secretly, to promote the work of revolution. Their vigilance committees +“maintained a sort of Holy Inquisition with the sales and purchases +of every man of business, into the outgoings and incomings of private +households, and with the reported opinions of individuals.” Town and +county in the North, the county in the South, provided a framework for +public meetings and resolutions. The Committees of Correspondence, +organized originally as private pressure groups, were later skillfully +manipulated by Sam Adams until they had partly supplanted the more +conservative town meetings. Adams called into meeting in 1773 a joint +committee for Boston, Dorchester, Roxbury, Brookline, and Cambridge +which was able to swamp the now fairly conservative merchant vote. +Throughout the movement, violence was employed whenever it seemed +necessary, from grand affairs like the Boston Tea Party to isolated +beating of Tories. + +Yet the most realistic of our modern historians will hardly go so +far as to assert that the American revolution was plotted by a tiny +minority. The net effect of a dozen years of British mistakes, of +concessions and retractions, blowings-hot and blowings-cold, together +with a great variety of American agitation, was to produce in 1775 +a widespread popular backing for the Continental Congress in its +resistance to George III. It is quite impossible to say how many Whigs, +how many Tories, and how many indifferent or neutral persons there +were in the thirteen colonies at the outbreak of armed hostilities. +Probably there were proportionately more Tories than there were extreme +Royalists in France in 1789 and many more than there were Czarists in +Russia in 1917; and there were probably fewer Tories in revolutionary +America than partisans of the Stuarts in England in 1642. But in all +these cases it is a matter of proportion. The American revolution +was, like the others, in part the result of an active, able, and far +from infinitesimal minority working on a large majority group with +grievances enough to be stirred up effectively when the right time came. + +To sum the matter up in a metaphor: the school of circumstances +regards revolutions as a wild and natural growth, its seeds sown among +tyranny and corruption, its development wholly determined by forces +outside itself or at any rate outside human planning; the school +of plot regards revolutions as a forced and artificial growth, its +seeds carefully planted in soil worked over and fertilized by the +gardener-revolutionists, mysteriously brought to maturity by these same +gardeners against the forces of nature. Actually, we must reject both +extremes, for they are nonsense, and hold that revolutions do grow +from seeds sown by men who want change, and that these men do do a lot +of skillful gardening; but that the gardeners are not working against +Nature, but rather in soil and in a climate propitious to their work; +and that the final fruits represent a collaboration between men and +Nature. + + +_IV. The Role of Force_ + +A final uniformity to be discerned in these first stages of our +revolutions is perhaps the clearest and most important of all. In each +revolution there is a point, or several points, where constituted +authority is challenged by the illegal acts of revolutionists. In such +instances, the routine response of any authority is to have recourse +to force, police or military. Our authorities made such a response, +_but in each case with a striking lack of success_. Those of the ruling +class responsible for such responses in all our societies proved +signally unable to make adequate use of force. Let us first look at the +facts. + +In England there was no considerable standing army, and of course +nothing like a modern police force. Indeed, the question of control +over what standing army there was had been one of the big issues +between the first two Stuarts and their Parliaments. The Crown had +been obliged to quarter its soldiers on private citizens in order to +keep any kind of army together, and this quartering was one of the +grievances most strongly held against Charles I. When a Scotch army +crossed the border, Charles was obliged to call the Long Parliament +to get money to buy this armed force off. When the actual break +between Royalists and Parliamentarians drew near, both sides tried to +constitute an armed force. Charles had the benefit of a devoted noble +officer-class, and enough tenant-followers of noblemen and gentry to +constitute what was by far the strongest armed force controlled by the +government, or conservatives, or party-in-power side in any of our +four revolutions. Yet the Civil War proved that he didn’t have enough +good soldiers, in comparison with the human resources available to the +Parliament. Charles was beaten in the first instance because he lacked +decisive military power. + +Similarly in the American revolution, neither the American Tories +nor the British armies were quite strong enough, as in the actual +event they used their armed strength to suppress the revolutionists. +Notably in the earlier stages, the British undertook to introduce +what they knew to be unpopular governmental changes with what now +seems an amazing disregard of police necessities. No doubt the +long tradition of British loyal self-government made it hard for a +British colonial administrator to conceive of any other methods. But +the fact remains that these forces in North America in 1775 were +quite inadequate to enforce authority. How many more men than Gage +actually did have would have been necessary to keep royal order in +Massachusetts Bay is a matter of guesswork, of perhaps unprofitable +history-in-the-conditional. It is, however, unduly complimentary to +rugged Yankee love of independence to suppose that no armed force could +have been large enough to have controlled Massachusetts. Had there been +a Napoleon instead of a Gage, there would perhaps have been a different +end to the fighting. Whether such a policy of repression would not +ultimately have produced a successful revolution anyway is a matter we +are not called upon to discuss. What does concern us is the simple fact +that in America also an important initial failure of the government was +its failure to use force adequately and skillfully. + +Louis XVI had in 1789 a fairly trustworthy armed force. His French +troops were perhaps open to propaganda by the patriots. But he had +important household troops, mercenaries recruited from foreign peoples, +chiefly Swiss and German, and not accessible to French agitators. +That the Swiss would die for him, or for their duty, was proved three +years later at the storming of the Tuileries. He had, especially in +the artillery, a capable set of officers, most of whom could be relied +upon at this stage. Yet at the decisive moment, the rioting in Paris +in July, he and his advisers failed to use the military. Again we edge +into history-in-the-conditional, but one cannot avoid wondering what +would have happened had a few disciplined troops with street guns +attempted the reduction of Paris in July, 1789. Napoleon was later to +show that such a force could readily beat down civilian resistance, +and this fact was to be amply confirmed in 1848 and 1871. Louis might +have failed. But the point is that he didn’t even try. Once again a +government has failed to make adequate use of force. + +Petrograd in 1917 is the most perfect example of this important +role of the military and the police. Everyone, from Czarist to +Trotskyite, admits that what turned somewhat chaotic and aimless +street demonstrations into a revolution was the failure of the +elaborate government plan to restore order in Petrograd. And that +plan failed because at the critical moment the soldiers refused to +march against the people, but regiment by regiment came over instead +to join them. Again, such is the advantage which a disciplined force +with modern artillery possesses over even the most inspired civilian +revolutionists, there can be little doubt that if the Cossacks and +a few of the famous regiments of the line, the Preobrazhensky, for +instance, had been warmly loyal to the government, even the somewhat +incompetent rulers of Petrograd could probably have put down the +disturbance. Whether another and worse riot was not inevitable within a +few months under existing conditions of failure in war is not a matter +that concerns us here. + +This striking failure on the part of the rulers to use force +successfully is not, however, likely to be an isolated and chance +phenomenon. Indeed, it seems intimately bound up with that general +ineptness and failure of the ruling class we have noticed in a previous +chapter. Long years of decline have undermined the discipline of the +troops, bad treatment has given the private soldiers a common cause +with civilians, the officers have lost faith in the conventional +and stupid military virtues. There is no co-ordinating command, no +confidence, no desire for action. Or if there are some of these things, +they exist only in isolated individuals, and are lost among the +general incompetence, irresolution, and pessimism. The conservative +cause--even the cause of Charles I--seems a lost cause from the +start. The American case is somewhat different. Here we have an inept +_colonial_ government, but not an inept native ruling class. + +We can then with some confidence attribute the failure of the +conservatives to use force skillfully to the decadence of a ruling +class. After all, we are dealing with fairly large groups of the +kind we are accustomed to treating as subjects for sociological +generalization. When, however, we attempt to bring the four crowned +heads of our societies under some such general rule, we can hardly +help feeling that we have no adequate statistical basis. Yet Charles +I, George III, Louis XVI, and Nicholas II display such remarkable +similarities that one hesitates to call in chance as an explanation. +Trotsky confidently asserts that a decaying society will inevitably +head up into the kind of incompetence displayed by these monarchs. We +dare not display quite as much confidence, but we must bring forward +these uniformities in the behavior of four men as a valid part of our +observed uniformities. At any rate their being what they were had an +important part in that process through which the revolutionists won +their preliminary and decisive victories over incompetent authority. + +At the very least, one can discern in all these monarchs mistakes +which point to their lack of a reasonably objective thing, the +technical skill necessary to rule men. If a baseball player strikes +out consistently over a long stretch of games, and fields badly, it +may be because of poor eyesight, or family troubles, or a lot of other +reasons, but the simple fact remains that he is a poor ball-player. +Our four kings were poor kings, though they were all good family men, +men on the whole whom we should probably list as good, or at least as +well-meaning. Nicholas was petty and jealous, as well as ignorant and +superstitious, and by conventional Christian moral standards probably +the worst of the lot. But he was far from being a cruel tyrant. Louis +was kindly, well-meaning, but singularly unsuited to affairs of state. +Both men were deficient intellectually, were very much under the +domination of determined, passionate, proud, and ignorant wives, and +both have left diaries which display amazing parallels in obtuseness. +Louis went hunting on Bastille Day and in his diary records “Nothing”; +Nicholas in a similar crisis records “Walked long and killed two crows; +had tea by daylight.” + +We cannot here go into the fascinating subject of the personalities of +all these monarchs. George III was high-minded, stupid, and stubborn, +which is a very bad combination indeed in a ruler. Charles is humanly +the most attractive of the four; there is a sound basis for the +romantic legend woven around him. But he was a bad king for a number +of reasons, of which the chief were perhaps first an almost complete +inability to understand what was going on in the hearts and heads of +those of his subjects commonly called Puritans--and this emphatically +includes the Scotch Calvinists--and, second, a tendency to high-minded +intrigue. In politics, high-mindedness and intrigue are much safer if +kept decently apart. This much, in summary, we may conclude about our +kings. However much they differed as men, they were alike in being +wholly unable to make effective use of force, even had they possessed +it, at the first stages of the revolution. + +For our revolutions, then, we may put this last uniformity very +simply: they were successful in their first stages; they became actual +revolutions instead of mere discussions, complaints, and riotings, +only after revolutionists had beaten, or won over, the armed forces +of the government. We cannot attempt to erect uniformities for other +revolutions or for revolutions in general. But we may here suggest +in very tentative and hypothetical form the generalization that +no government has ever fallen before revolutionists until it has +lost control over its armed forces or lost the ability to use them +effectively; and conversely that no revolutionists have ever succeeded +until they have got a predominance of effective armed force on their +side. + + +_V. The Honeymoon_ + +The first stage of revolution ends in all four of our societies with +the victory of the revolutionists after what is rather dramatic than +serious bloodshed. The hated old regime has been conquered so easily! +The way is open to the regeneration men have been so long talking +about, so long hoping for. Even the Russian February revolution, though +it broke out in the midst of the misery and shame of defeat at the +hands of Germans and Austrians, was cradled in the hope and joy that +seems a natural heritage of revolutions. Russians all over the world +heard the good news with delight. Liberals were as happy as their +ancestors had been in ’76 and ’89. Now Russia was washed clean of the +stain of absolutism, could take her place with confidence in the ranks +of her sister democracies of the West, join with a new effectiveness +in the crusade against the sole remaining forces of darkness, the +Hohenzollerns and the Hapsburgs. + +The honeymoon stage of revolution is most perfectly developed in +France, where the revolution came in peacetime, and at the end of a +great intellectual movement called the Enlightenment which had prepared +men’s minds for a new and practical miracle. Wordsworth’s lines are +familiar: + + “France standing on the top of golden hours, + And human nature seeming born again.” +But poets in a dozen languages set to work to celebrate the +regeneration of France and of mankind. And not only poets. Sober +business men, professional men, country gentlemen, people who in the +twentieth century tend to regard revolution with horror, joined in the +rejoicing. Far away in unenlightened Russia noblemen illuminated their +houses in honor of the fall of the Bastille. Americans and Englishmen +rejoiced that the ancient enemy had come to join the self-governing +peoples. Frenchmen themselves were for a brief happy moment almost +unanimous. The King had seen the error of his ways, had embraced the +paladin Lafayette, had come freely to his good city of Paris to hear +the cheers of the heroes of the Bastille. + +Yet the honeymoon period even in France was brief, briefer yet in +Russia, in England and in America never quite so clear and so definite. +In the first stages, and at the critical moment when the test of force +comes, the old regime is faced by a solid opposition. The opposition +is indeed composed of various groups, is never that myth a “united +people.” But it is welded by the necessity of effectively opposing the +government into a genuine political unit, into something more than a +chance coalition of contradictory elements. Its victory is, if we are +willing to take the terms critically and not sentimentally, the victory +of the “people” over its “oppressors.” It has shown itself stronger and +abler than the old government in this time of crisis. It has now become +the government, and is facing a new set of problems. When it actually +gets to work on those problems the honeymoon is soon over. + + + + +_Chapter_ FOUR TYPES OF REVOLUTIONISTS + + +_I. The Clichés_ + +It would clearly be helpful in our inquiry if we could at this point +isolate the revolutionist as a type. To pursue our analogy of the +fever, may it not be that certain individuals act as “carriers,” +and that they can be classified, labeled, described in economic and +sociological terms as well as in those of psychology or common sense? +This is at any rate a lead which seems worth following. + +There are, however, several ways in which such a pursuit might lead us +astray. We must beware of regarding revolutionists, and revolutionary +leaders in particular, as literally bearing disease germs of +revolution. Here as throughout this study, our conceptual scheme must +never be allowed to lead us into fantasy. It must be a convenience, not +an obsession. We must more than ever avoid using terms of praise or +dispraise, which lurk in every corner of this particular field. For the +simple word “revolutionist” is likely to call up in the minds of most +of us a relatively uncritical personification, the sort of loose change +of daily intercourse that serves us well enough to get on with “poet” +or “professor” or “Frenchman.” + +Even the subtlest thinker, the most delicate and conscientious artist +in words, has to come down in daily life to something very close to +the clichés that serve the man in the street. You and I, of course, do +not picture poets as long-haired, delicate, bohemian and tubercular, +nor professors as impractical, absent-minded, kindly and bearded, +nor Frenchmen as polite, dapper, wax-mustached, ladies’ men. But we +cannot go into Proustian intricacies with ourselves when we use such +words, nor can we use them as rigorously as a scientific systematist. +We get along with them as best we may, adjusting them roughly to our +experience and our sentiments. + +Now what “revolutionist” means at this level to various persons and +various groups is in itself an important element in a full sociology of +revolutions. What all sorts of people feel about revolution is perhaps +most easily studied in the clichés which arise out of words like +“revolutionist” and “revolutionary,” or their more concrete parallels, +“Jacobin,” “Bolshevik,” “red,” and the like. We cannot attempt such a +study here, but we must look a bit further into a few of these clichés, +if only as a warning and a contrast. + +Probably for most Americans in the fourth decade of the twentieth +century the word “revolutionist” carries unpleasant overtones. At +the level of the Hearst papers or the Macfadden publications, a +revolutionist appears as a seedy, wild-eyed, unshaven, loud-mouthed +person, given to soapbox oratory and plotting against the government, +ready for, and yet afraid of, violence. Even at slightly more +sophisticated levels, one suspects many of our countrymen feel much the +same about revolutionists, or at any rate are convinced that they are +pronouncedly queer people, failures under pre-revolutionary conditions, +sufferers from inferiority complexes, envious of their betters, or +just downright ornery, “agin the government” on principle and by +disposition. Other and more favorable pictures of the revolutionist +no doubt arise in other minds. To judge by some of our proletarian +writers--not themselves proletarians--the revolutionist is a sturdy, +broad-shouldered steelworker, uncorrupted by the falsities the +bourgeois call education, but well-versed in Marx and Lenin, strong, +kindly, a warrior-spirit with just a redeeming touch of Shelley about +him. + +Now the social uses of beliefs of this sort are plain enough. In an +old bourgeois society like the United States, sentiments hostile to +revolutionists are probably important factors in maintaining social +stability. Revolutionists were all right in 1776, but not in 1938. Any +society that is a going concern must apparently contain large numbers +of people who feel this way about revolutionists. Even in Russia, where +memories of violent revolution are still fresh, a concerted effort +is being made by the government to discredit living, flesh-and-blood +revolutionists. Revolution was all right in 1917, but not in 1938. On +the other side, it is clear that radicals and extremists who think of +revolutionists as fine fellows, as heroes and martyrs, are also aiding +in their own social discipline, strengthening themselves for the fray. + +The social scientist, however, cannot let the matter rest here. He must +attempt an objective classification of revolutionists, as complicated +as his data about them makes necessary. We can say with confidence that +even a hasty review of the four revolutions with which we are concerned +is very far from confirming either set of clichés we have outlined. And +notably, since the derogatory set is commoner in this country, such a +review by no means confirms the notion that our revolutionists were +seedy, loud-mouthed, bomb-throwing failures in the old regimes. If we +include, as we must, those who took the first steps in revolution as +well as those who ruled in the reign of terror, our type becomes still +less simple. + +Let us take a random list of names as they come to mind: Hampden, Sir +Harry Vane, John Milton, Sam Adams, John Hancock, Washington, Thomas +Paine, Lafayette, Marat, Talleyrand, Hébert, Miliukov, Konavalov, +Kerensky, Chicherin, Lenin. All are revolutionists; all opposed +constituted authority with force of arms. The list includes great +nobles, gentlemen, merchants, journalists, a professor of history, +a political boss, a ward-heeler. It includes several very rich men +and one or two poor men. It includes many who would by conventional +Christian standards seem to have been good men; and it includes several +who would by such standards seem to have been very wicked men. It +includes some who were important people in their pre-revolutionary +days, some who were quite unknown, and two, perhaps three, who were +apparent failures in life until the revolution gave them a chance to +rise. Surely it is no easy task to find a least common denominator for +a list like this. + +No doubt we shall be aided by making a distinction between the men +who dominate in the early stages of a revolution--on the whole the +moderates--and those who dominate in the crisis stage--on the whole +the extremists. But it will not do to say that only our extremists +are real revolutionists. After all, even George Washington seems to +have taken an oath of loyalty to the British Crown, and his breaking +that oath would have been treason had the American revolution failed. +We have been taught by Whig historians to believe that Essex and Pym +were defending the sacred laws of England, and that therefore they +weren’t real revolutionists. This was not, by any means, the current +opinion in Europe in the 1640’s, where the Parliamentarians were +regarded as shocking rebels against their king; and monarchy was in +seventeenth-century Europe as solidly rooted in the sentiments which +give force to law as the American Constitution seems rooted with us in +this country at the present time. No, we must list the moderates among +our revolutionists, even though they were defending the higher law +against the lower, and weren’t just nasty anarchists and rebels. + + +_II. Economic and Social Position: Rank and File_ + +One of the most useful approaches to the problem of the personnel of +revolutionary movements is from the relatively objective indications +of the economic and social status of those who take part in the +uprising. Now it is very difficult to find out much about the rank +and file of the revolutionists. Like the private soldier in war, +the ordinary revolutionist is inarticulate and nameless. For the +French revolution, however, some such study is not impossible. In the +surviving records of the Jacobin Clubs, which served as centers of +revolutionary action, and resemble both the Russian soviets and the +American corresponding committees, we have a large number of lists of +members--imperfect, of course, but still lists. Some years ago the +present writer made a study of these lists, and, aided by tax-rolls and +other documents in French local archives, was able to arrive at certain +rough statistical generalizations about these revolutionists. Some of +these generalizations must be here summarized from the author’s _The +Jacobins: A Study in the New History_. + +In general, it is possible to arrive at some statistical approximation +of the social and economic positions of these Jacobin revolutionists in +pre-revolutionary France. There are tax-rolls extant for various years +between 1785 and 1790, and on these many of the Jacobins can be found, +with the sums they were assessed at. As these were direct taxes not too +far out of proportion to income, it is possible thus to get a rough +estimate of Jacobin wealth. Occupations are usually given, and this is +a useful indication of social position. Finally, it is also possible +to study certain clubs at specific moments in the revolution, so that +a sample can be taken during the early or moderate period, and another +during the later rule of the extremists. Here, briefly, are some of the +results. + +For twelve clubs, with a total membership of 5,405 over the whole +course of the revolution, 1789-95, in both its moderate and its +violent phases: 62 per cent of the members were middle class, 28 per +cent working class, 10 per cent peasants. For twelve clubs in the +moderate period, 1789-92, with a membership of 4,037: 66 per cent +were middle class, 26 per cent working class, 8 per cent peasants. +For forty-two clubs in the violent period, 1793-95, with a membership +of 8,062: 57 per cent were middle class, 32 per cent working class, +11 per cent peasants. The tax-rolls confirm what occupational and +social classification suggests. In eight clubs considered over the +whole period of revolution, club members paid an average tax of 32.12 +_livres_, where the average tax for all male citizens of the towns +considered was 17.02 _livres_; in twenty-six clubs considered in the +violent period only, club members paid 19.94 _livres_, male citizens +14.45 _livres_. Thus, though there was certainly a tendency for the +clubs to be recruited in the violent period from social strata a bit +lower, on the whole one is forced to the conclusion that “the Jacobin +was neither a nobleman nor a beggar, but almost anything in between. +The Jacobins represent a complete cross-section of their communities.” + +Other relatively objective indices help us a bit. It was often possible +to list the ages of members of the clubs during the revolution. +As far as the rank and file of these clubs went, the notion that +revolutionists are recruited from the young and irresponsible was +not borne out. For ten clubs the average age varied from 38.3 years +to 45.4 years, and for all ten together came to 41.8 years. These +were clearly not foolhardy youngsters. Nor were they footloose +itinerants, shock troops imported from revolutionary urban centers +like Paris. Out of 2,949 members of fifteen clubs, only 378, or 13 +per cent, had moved into the towns since the outbreak of trouble in +1789. The actual membership of the clubs varied as the revolutionary +movement grew more and more extreme--or in modern terms, went more +and more to the Left. Many moderates emigrated or were guillotined, +many disreputable extremists, often though by no means always from +the lower classes, only “made” the clubs later on. Yet in six clubs +with a total membership from 1789 to 1795 of 3,028, something over 31 +per cent managed to stay on the books for the whole period, to have +been successively good monarchists, good Girondists, good Montagnards. +It is not true that the personality of these clubs became dominantly +lower or working class after the fall of the monarchy in 1792, nor even +that their newer recruits were largely from the proletariat. And it is +quite clear that these people are not on the whole failures in their +earlier environment; rather they represent the abler, more ambitious +and successful of the inhabitants of a given town. It is as if our +Rotarians today were revolutionists. + +A similar statistical study could probably not be made for the English +revolution since lists corresponding to the Jacobin membership lists +are not available. The material certainly exists for such a study +of the actual membership of the soviets in, say, the crucial year +1917, but it would have to be put together from scattered sources +available only in Russia. We know a good deal about the membership +of our own American revolutionary groups, from merchants’ committees +and corresponding committees to continental congresses. Even for the +English revolution we have enough scattered material to permit some +generalizations about the personnel of the movement. + +In the early stages of the English revolution there can be no doubt +about the respectability and economic prosperity of the men who backed +Parliament. Baxter, somewhat exaggeratedly, but with a kernel of truth, +writes that when the Great Rebellion broke out “it was the moderate +Conformists and Episcopal Protestants who had long been crying of +Innovations, Arminianism, Popery, Monopolies, illegal taxes and the +danger of arbitrary government, who raised the war.” The merchants of +London, Bristol and other towns, great lords, small landowning gentry, +all rose in sedition against their king. Even in what we may call the +extremist or crisis period of the English revolution, which begins +in 1646 or 1647 when the tension between the New Model Army and the +Presbyterians becomes acute, your revolutionists are very far from +riffraff. Even Baxter reports of that army--which was to the English +revolution what the Jacobins were to the French and the Bolsheviks to +the Russian revolutions--that “abundance of the common troopers and +many of the officers I found to be honest, sober, orthodox men, and +others tractable, ready to hear the truth, and of upright intentions.” +An historian has estimated that when the New Model “took the field +in 1645, of its thirty-seven chief officers, nine were of noble, +twenty-one of gentle birth, and only seven not gentlemen by birth.” +The English lower classes, or at least the more proletarian elements +as opposed to independent artisans, on the whole stood aloof from +the conflict. Even the wilder sectarians seem to have been recruited +from humble, but by no means poverty-stricken people, men who had +taught themselves to follow the theological disputes, men on the whole +representing the more active and ambitious of their class. The poorer +peasants, especially in the North and West, actually sided with the +King and against the revolutionists. + +In America we have already pointed out the well-known fact that +it was the merchants who first organized opposition to the Crown. +This opposition was echoed by many planters in the southern coastal +plain, and by many very respectable yeoman farmers of the Piedmont. +It is quite true that there are numerous signs of the pretty active +participation of what a good conservative would regard as the dregs +of the population. The Boston Sons of Liberty, who performed most of +the actual work of violence there, were recruited from workingmen and +actually met habitually in the counting-room of a distillery. The +Tories, whom it is now more fashionable to call Loyalists, naturally +saw their opponents as a pretty shabby lot. Hutchinson writes of the +Boston town meeting that it is “constituted of the lowest class of +the people under the influence of a few of the higher class, but of +intemperate and furious dispositions and of desperate fortunes. Men of +property and the best character have deserted these meetings, where +they are sure of being affronted.” + +Actually the line between Tory and Whig is a very irregular one, +depending on much besides economic status, as can be seen from the +late J. F. Jameson’s _The American Revolution Considered as a Social +Movement_. If the rich gentlemen of “Tory Row” in Cambridge sided with +the Crown, there were plenty of sober, respectable farmers, merchants, +and lawyers, who turned revolutionist. Such men were likely to be +shocked at the doings of wild young apprentices in the Sons of Liberty, +but this did not necessarily turn them to the British side, though it +made them critical of the Congress. A good sign of the respectability +of revolution is the adhesion of the clergy, which save for the +Episcopalians was in most colonies general. As a disgruntled Tory put +it, “The high sons of liberty include the ministers of the gospel, who +instead of preaching to their flocks meekness, sobriety, attention to +their different employments, and a steady obedience to the laws of +Britain, belch from the pulpits liberty, independence, and a steady +perseverance in endeavoring to shake off their allegiance to the mother +country. The independent ministers have ever been ... the instigators +and abettors of every persecution and conspiracy.” + +To sum up we shall have to agree with Jameson that the strength of the +revolutionary movement in the long run lay with the plain people--not +with the mob or “rabble,” for American society was rural and not +urban--but with country artisans, small farmers, and frontiersmen. But +we shall also have to agree with Alexander Graydon that “the opposition +to the claims of Britain originated with the better sort: it was truly +aristocratical in its commencement.” + +The February revolution in Russia seems to have been welcomed by +all classes save the most conservative of conservatives--a few army +officers, a few members of the Court and the old nobility. No one knows +who made the February revolution, but there can be no doubt as to its +popularity. Almost everyone, liberal noble, banker, industrialist, +lawyer, doctor, civil servant, _kulak_, and workingman, was glad to +co-operate in giving the Czarist regime its final blow. Even the +Bolsheviks, whose sudden victory in the October revolution of 1917 +makes the time-scheme of the Russian revolution so very different from +those of the English and French revolutions, were by no means what +confirmed haters of revolution call riffraff, rabble, “the masses.” +They seem to have been recruited chiefly from the more enterprising, +able, and skilled workingmen in the factories of Petrograd, Moscow, and +specialized industrial centers like Ivanovo-Vosnessensk or the Don +basin. Their most important leaders were largely drawn from the middle +class. One might perhaps argue that the Kadets, led by Miliukov, were +so early discouraged that they may not be counted as a revolutionary +party. But the Mensheviks and S-R (Socialist-Revolutionary) party, +later scorned as “Compromisists” by triumphant Bolshevik historians, +are most certainly revolutionary elements. The Mensheviks may have +been mostly intellectuals, but the S-R were also recruited from the +prosperous peasants, from the people who ran the co-operatives, from +small shopkeepers and the like. + + +_III. Economic and Social Position: Leaders_ + +Hitherto we have been considering the main bodies of the +revolutionists, and have found that on the whole they by no means +represent the dregs of society, even in the great proletarian uprising, +and that they commonly include members of almost every social and +economic group in a given society, except possibly the very top of +the social pyramid. And yet the Essexes, Washingtons, and Lafayettes +are very close to the top. Even in Russia, Brusilov, a distinguished +Czarist general, lived to serve the Soviet government in the 1920 drive +on Warsaw. + +Let us now see what we can make of the leaders, judging them first +by the comparatively objective standards of their social origins and +economic status. With the Jacobins the present writer was able to make +some study of the purely local leaders, the men who normally don’t +get into history. From the careers of dozens of these subalterns of +revolution, a conclusion seemed clear: “the leaders are substantially +of the same social standing as the rank and file. Possibly there are, +among the leaders during the Terror, more men who seem definitely, in +1789, failures, or at least at odds with their environment. Yet the +proportion of these village Marats is not striking.” + +As for the national leaders in the French revolution, they are, judged +by these standards, a varied lot. In the years 1789-92 they include +noblemen like the King’s cousin, the Duke of Orléans, Mirabeau, the +Lameths, Lafayette; lawyers in vast numbers, from well-known Parisian +lawyers like Camus to obscure but thoroughly respectable provincial +lawyers like young Robespierre from Arras (who had once written his +name de Robespierre), or rising barristers like Danton, come to +Paris from a peasant background in Champagne; men of science like +the astronomer Bailly, the chemist Lavoisier, and the mathematician +Monge; and, nursed by the new power of the press, journalists like +Marat and Desmoulins, publicists like Brissot, provincial bourgeois +of Chartres, and Condorcet, a marquis and a _philosophe_. After 1792, +extremely few new leaders came to the top. The men who ran France in +1793-94 were, perhaps, somewhat less refined or distinguished than the +hopeful intellectuals of Mme. Roland’s circle; and they would have +seemed very barbarous at Versailles in 1788. They were not, however, +of very different social origins from the men who really ran the old +France--the literate bourgeoisie from which were ultimately recruited +the bureaucracy. + +Of the striking respectability and excellent social standing of the men +who signed our Declaration of Independence most Americans are fully +aware. Of its fifty-six signers thirty-three held college degrees and +only about four had little or no formal education. There were five +doctors, eleven merchants, four farmers, twenty-two lawyers, three +ministers. Twelve were sons of ministers. Nearly all were affluent. +Sam Adams, who seems among the more disreputable of our leaders, came +from a merchant family of some means, and graduated from Harvard in +1740, where he was listed fifth out of twenty-two in those mysterious +lists which before Professor S. E. Morison’s researches we all thought +directly measured social standing. Even the Tories, though they flung +words like “rabble” about very freely, could consistently reproach +the revolutionary leaders with nothing worse in this respect than +being amateurs in the art of governing. “From shopkeepers, tradesmen, +and attorneys they are become statesmen and legislators.... Almost +every individual of the governing party in America fills at present, +in his own fancy, a station not only superior to what he had ever +filled before, but to what he had ever expected to fill,” writes a +conservative, or moderate, in the _Middlesex Journal_ for April 6, 1776. + +We need not go into the social origins of the leaders of the moderates +in the English revolution. They are clearly among the highest in the +land. The immoderates present an interesting spectacle, a mixture +of gentlemen of good breeding, of self-educated careerists and of +humble men inspired by a fury as yet divine, as yet without benefit +of psychoanalysis. Cromwell himself, of course, was an East Anglian +country gentleman, whose family tree ramified into a good deal of the +new wealth originating in Tudor confiscations. Ireton, who became his +son-in-law, was of similar antecedents, as were many other Independent +leaders in old and new England. Ludlow the regicide was a son of Sir +Henry Ludlow of Wiltshire, and went to Trinity, Cambridge. Even John +Lilburne the Leveller is described as “of good family” dating back to +the fourteenth century, and seems to have been typical of the lesser +gentry whose sons not infrequently passed over into trade. We know +little of the social origins of such men as Winstanley the Digger or +Edward Sexby, a soldier of Cromwell’s regiment who appears later as +a kind of international agent of republicanism. Robert Everard, with +Winstanley a leader of the curious communistic group known as the +Diggers, was a captain in the army and is described as a “gentleman +of liberal education.” John Rogers the Millenarian was the son of an +Anglican clergyman and a Royalist. + +Russia presents a case more nearly parallel to our other countries in +respect to the social origins of the leaders of her revolution than +might at first sight seem likely in a proletarian revolution. Perhaps +the moderates in Russia held power so briefly and so uncomfortably that +they hardly count. Kadets like Miliukov, a historian of good family, +Tereschenko, a Kiev sugar millionaire, the Octobrist Guchkov, a wealthy +Moscow merchant, and poor old Prince Lvov remind us of the rich Puritan +lords and merchants of the English revolution, the well-born Feuillants +of the French revolution. The Menshevik and Social-Revolutionary +leaders were mostly intellectuals, petty officials, trade union and +co-operative leaders; some of their most eloquent orators came from +Georgia, “the Gironde of the Russian revolution.” Kerensky was a +radical lawyer of provincial bureaucratic stock from the little Volga +town of Simbirsk, now called Ulianovsk, in memory of a greater than +Kerensky who also hailed from Simbirsk. As a matter of fact, V. I. +Ulianov, better known by his revolutionary name of Lenin, came from +exactly the same social class as Kerensky. His father was an inspector +of schools at Simbirsk, a position of much more social standing in +bureaucratic Czarist Russia than it would seem to us to be--very +definitely in the superior bourgeoisie. + +The other Bolshevik leaders are a varied lot: intellectual Jews like +Trotsky (born Bronstein) and Kamenev (born Rosenfeld), both educated +men, by no means typical Ghetto Jews; Felix Dzerzhinsky, of noble +Polish-Lithuanian stock; Sverdlov, by training a chemist; Kalinin, +whom one might call a professional peasant; Stalin (born Djugashvili), +of Georgian peasant-artisan stock, destined by his mother for the +priesthood, and actually for some time a student in a seminary; +Chicherin, of stock sufficiently aristocratic to hold himself at least +as well-born as Lord Curzon; Antonov-Ovseënko, Red Army leader with the +fine bourgeois inheritance of a hyphenated name. The negotiations at +Brest-Litovsk, however, afford a neat synopsis of Bolshevik leadership +and proof of its non-proletarian character. When the first Russian +delegation was sent to that town to meet the Germans it included as +samples of the proletarian achievements of the revolution one specimen +each of sailor, worker, and peasant. The peasant is said, no doubt by +malicious enemies of the working class, to have distinguished himself +chiefly by his interest in the liquor supply. When, however, the +negotiations really got going after a recess, the Russians dropped +their ornamental sailor, worker, and peasant, and were represented by +men of course not the social equals of the high-born Germans opposite +them, but, one suspects, their cultural superiors--Joffe, Kamenev, +Pokrovsky, Karakhan--and by a somewhat neurotic lady-Bolshevik, Mme. +Bitzenko, who had won her spurs by shooting a Czarist official in +the bad old days. But, of course, even orthodox Marxism admits that +the proletariat cannot lift itself by its own bootstraps, and that +its leaders must therefore come from classes sufficiently privileged +to have had an education fitting them to interpret the subtleties of +Marxist theology. + +Finally, the inexperience, the “newness,” of the revolutionary +leaders has generally been exaggerated in our textbooks. They had, +especially in Russia, a long training in the direction of dissenting +and persecuted little societies, the revolutionary groups. And +revolutionists as a group are so much like any other human beings +that to learn the art of leading them is to have gone a long way in +political apprenticeship. Even in France, the members of the National +Assembly were not as politically innocent as they are supposed to have +been. Many had had business experience, or had been diplomatists, +or civil servants, or had taken part in local politics in provinces +which had their own estates. All of them were used to the politics +of pressure groups. These revolutionary leaders are mostly far from +academic, unworldly, pure theorists; they do not step suddenly from the +cloister to the council hall. Their training may have subtly unfitted +them for leading a stable society; but that is another, and at present +insoluble, problem. They are certainly fitted for leadership in an +unstable society. + +We have, then, found that both rank and file and leaders of active +revolutionary groups cannot be catalogued neatly as coming from any one +social or economic group. They are not even strikingly, precociously, +young. Their leaders are usually in middle age, the thirties and +forties, and thus younger than most of the politically prominent in +stable societies, which naturally incline to the rule of the old. But +the St. Justs and the Bonapartes, the boys in their twenties, are the +exception, not the rule. The leadership of the Russian revolution +which, with the distortion that comes from contemporaneousness, we are +likely to regard as the most “radical,” was on the average the oldest +in years of all our revolutions. The revolutionists tend to represent a +fairly complete cross-section of their communities, with a sprinkling +of the very highest ranks of their societies--men like Lafayette, for +instance, whom Mr. Lothrop Stoddard calls “misguided superiors”--and, +as far as the active ruling groups go, extremely few of the submerged, +downtrodden, lowest ranks. This is as true of the Bolsheviks as of +the Puritans and the Jacobins. Bums, hoboes, the mob, the rabble, +the riffraff, may be recruited to do the street-fighting and the +manor-burning of revolutions, but they emphatically do not make, do not +run, revolutions--not even proletarian revolutions. + + +_IV. Character and Disposition_ + +We now face a much more difficult task, one where our information is +neither so objective nor so readily catalogued as our information +about the social and economic status of revolutionists. This is +the problem--psychological at bottom--of seeing how far these +revolutionists belong to types which are normally viewed by John Jones +as queer, eccentric, or downright mad. Now one might quite justifiably +argue _a priori_ that a wholly contented man could not possibly be +a revolutionist. But the trouble is that there are so many ways of +being discontented, as well as contented, on this earth. Indeed, the +cruder Marxists, and the cruder classical economists, make an almost +identical error: they both assume that economics deals exhaustively +with whatever makes men happy or miserable. Men have many incentives +to action which the economist, limited to the study of men’s rational +actions, simply cannot include in his work. They observably do a great +deal that simply makes no sense at all, if we assume them to be guided +_wholly_ by any conceivable rational economic motive: near-starving in +the British Museum to write _Das Kapital_, for instance, or seizing +deserts under the comforting illusion that trade follows the flag, or +making the world quite safe for democracy. Yet clearly a man who takes +part in a revolution before it is demonstrably successful--and after it +is successful it may perhaps be said to have ceased to be a revolution +anyway--is a discontented man, or at least a man shrewd enough to +estimate that there are enough discontented men to be forged into a +group that can make a revolution. We must make some effort to study the +nature of such discontents as seen in individuals. + +For here the method of statistical study of large groups of +revolutionists, like the Jacobins, will not work. At most these rank +and file are names, with profession and perhaps some other indication +of social status. Modern interest in social history and the common man +has indeed made available a certain number of old diaries and letters +of common men, and the Russian revolution has done its best to keep +alive the memory of worker this of the Putilov factory or sailor that +of the _Aurora_. Trotsky himself is very eloquent about the role of +these heroic workers, sailors, and peasants in his _History of the +Russian Revolution_, yet he manages to spend as much of his time on +the great names as if he were a mere bourgeois historian. We have, of +course, the blanket denunciations--they are hardly descriptions--of +one side by another. These are much too emotional as a rule to have +any evidential value, except as to the intensity of emotions evoked +during revolutions. Even in our own presumably mild revolution one +notes a Tory who is reported to have said, “It would be a joy to ride +through American blood to the hubs of my chariot wheels.” Of course +these American Tories thought the revolutionists were wild radicals, +scheming inferiors, jealous rabble. On the other hand, most of us +who were brought up without benefit of the new history were taught +in school to regard the Tories as just straight villains, traitors, +morally reprehensible people without economic, social, or indeed any +characteristics that separated them from such villains of fiction +as Simon Legree. So in the French revolution, each side accused the +other of all sorts of moral failings, but rarely got down to effective +details of daily life. + +If we cannot for these reasons do much with the political and social +psychology of large groups of revolutionists, we can at least look +over some of the leaders, hoping that the list we decide upon will +not be too unrepresentative. Here at least we can count upon quite a +bit of biographical information. Thanks to those admirable works, the +_Dictionary of National Biography_ and the _Dictionary of American +Biography_, we can even sample some of the lesser leaders, the +noncommissioned officers of revolutions. The French are now at work on +their biographical dictionary, which promises to be even more scholarly +than its Anglo-Saxon prototypes, but as it has only just conquered the +letter “A” it is not of much use to us. Russia is very difficult indeed +from this point of view; there are plenty of brilliant comments on +Lenin, Trotsky, and Stalin, but they are also very contradictory. On +the lesser figures there is not much trustworthy biographical writing +available in the Western languages, nor for that matter in Russian. We +may note here, however, that the extraordinary proliferation of assumed +names in the Russian revolution probably does not stem with most of +these pseudonymous heroes from any feelings of shame for a criminal +or disgraceful past. Their crimes were no doubt many, but crimes only +against Czarist oppression. Perhaps there was originally some mildly +melodramatic notion that these aliases were useful against the Czarist +police, but soon they became a mere fashion, a revolutionary fad. + +At this point there is some danger of our falling into a dreary +catalogue. At the risk of seeming to turn aside from strictly +scientific systematizing, we shall have to group our facts as we go +along under certain human types or characters. This is a process +which has been done successfully by a great many shrewd observers of +human behavior, from Theophrastus through Molière to Sainte-Beuve +and Bagehot. It is perhaps in some respects a more useful way of +classifying men than formal psychology or formal sociology has yet +worked out. These are not, one hopes, imaginary characters. If they are +one-tenth as real as Alceste or the Penurious Man they are more real +than anyone the average sociologist ever dealt with. + +We may begin with the gentleman-revolutionist, whom Mr. Lothrop +Stoddard calls the “misguided superior,” the man born on top, but +perversely unwilling to stay there. He is by no means a simple person, +and indeed sometimes manages to combine an astonishing number of +revolutionary traits. It must be admitted that with many of these +misguided superiors in our four societies, dislike for the ways of +their class is apparently partly motivated by their inability to +succeed in certain activities honored in that class. You need not be a +debunking historian to admit that Lafayette revolted against the Court +of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette partly because he cut so awkward a +figure there. Liberty, fortunately, did not need to be courted in a +minuet. We must not seem to be cynical in these matters. Lafayette’s +love of liberty was no doubt morally a far better thing than if he had +loved place, pension, or mistress. But we must infer from his actions +that he had very early realized that nothing short of a love of liberty +would get him very far. And so today, when you find in one of our +colleges a well-nurtured youth turned Communist, you can be almost +certain that he is not captain of the football team nor secretary of +Chi Phi Digamma. He may indeed be Phi Beta Kappa. This condition we +need not here either applaud or condemn, but simply note. + +It would, however, be cynical--and hence quite unscientific--to deny +that many of these misguided superiors are also moved by what we shall +have to call sincere idealism. Their own social group comes to seem +to them dissolute, or dull, or cruel, or heartless. They see the +possibilities of a better world. They are influenced by the writings of +the intellectuals, who have begun their desertion of the established +order. They come to struggle for God’s kingdom on this earth. They are +usually, of course, uncomfortable on this earth, but for a whole lot +of reasons, many of which cannot be simply dismissed as being in the +province of the psychiatrist. Shelley, who never actually got a chance +at revolution outside poetry, is a familiar example of this sensitive, +and often neurotic, type. Dzerzhinsky, the Polish aristocrat who gave +life to the terrible Cheka, was a delicate and sincere fanatic. The +Marquis de St. Huruge, who figures disreputably in the disorders and +street-fighting of the French revolution, was apparently pretty crazy, +and not even a gentleman. Condorcet, also a marquis, was a gentleman +and scholar, and if he had a good deal of the vanity that goes +naturally enough with both, and very little of the sense that sometimes +goes with either, was at heart a kind and sensitive man. + +Others desert their class and join the revolution for the ignoble +but sometimes socially very useful reason that they think the signs +point to the victory of the revolution. Sometimes these men are like +Mirabeau, rather shady characters who have for some time compromised +themselves by irregular lives. Sometimes they are men like Talleyrand, +careful, sensible men whose main desire is to keep in a position of +honor and affluence, and who have no sense of loyalty to abstract +notions of right and wrong. And, of course, in the early stages of our +revolutions, even the Russian, plenty of rich and influential men of no +extraordinary intelligence or stupidity joined the revolution because +the revolution was fashionable, and an apparent success. Often these +men, who had not been directly in political power, were flattered by +the prospect of political power--men like the Duc d’Orléans or Bailly +or Tereschenko or Konovalov. But they were essentially fairly ordinary +human beings, no fitter subjects for hagiography--Christian, Freudian, +or Marxist--than you or I. + +If we leave the superiors, those who belong by birth or upbringing to +the ruling classes, and who yet side with revolt, and turn to leaders +who come from classes below the ruling one, we shall find the same very +great variety of what we must tritely call human nature. We shall find +fools, scoundrels, idealists, professional agitators, diplomatists, +lunatics, cowards, and heroes. + +Now it would be useless to deny that among those who come to the top in +the troubled times of revolution are many who probably never would have +been heard of in normal times. Some of these were certainly failures +in the old society, men who were unable to attain the objects of their +ambition. In spite of all that an able defender like Professor L. R. +Gottschalk has written to prove Marat’s learning and respectability, +it is still true that on the whole the _Friend of the People_ was +not a success before the revolution. Marat was a self-educated man +of humble stock, with a habit of presenting himself with academic +degrees and honorary distinctions his biographers--and even his +contemporaries--were not always able to confirm. He tried very hard +to storm the Parnassus of the _philosophes_, but was never admitted. +Like most enlightened eighteenth-century men of letters, he dabbled +in natural science, and emerged with a variant of the old phlogiston +theory of combustion, the originality and truth of which were not +properly appreciated by his jealous contemporaries. Lavoisier and the +“new chemistry” were triumphing in the 1780’s, and Marat failed to +recognize the meaning of the revolution in this science. + +When the Estates-General met in 1789 he was a disappointed +intellectual, a man who had failed of acceptance by that little band +of writers and talkers who in late eighteenth-century France perhaps +enjoyed more unalloyed admiration from the public than such folk have +ever enjoyed. No Frenchman could at that epoch have coined a term like +“brain-trust”; but if he had it would have carried no such ironic +overtones of scorn as it does in twentieth-century America. Marat, +rejected by these admired leaders of opinion, was in 1789 full to the +brim with envy and hatred of everything established and esteemed in +France. Soon revolutionary journalism was to give him an ample outlet. +He became the watch-dog of the revolution--a mad watch-dog, always in +his _l’Ami du Peuple_ at work scenting plots against the people, always +hating those in power, even when they were of his own party, always +crying for blood and revenge. A most unpleasant fellow, no doubt. +Whether he was a more unpleasant one than certain journalists of normal +and unrevolutionary twentieth-century America, it is hard to say. +Journalism was very new in France in 1790, and people expected a good +deal. Marat at least had one excuse. He was suffering from an incurable +skin disease which gave to his life an almost unbearable nervous +tension. + +Yet the failures are by no means all of the relatively simple type of +Marat. Sam Adams was certainly a failure when judged by the standards +of thrifty, sober New England. He had no money sense whatever, ran +through a small inheritance, was constantly in debt; let his wife and +children get along as they could while he organized his famous caucus +and committees of correspondence. He is by no means a figure for the +copy-books. Yet Adams could do certain things extremely well, and +if these things were not in the 1770’s as financially rewarding as +they are now, Adams at least reaped less tangible rewards in his own +time--and he did become governor of Massachusetts. Adams’s gifts, +of course, as they are deftly analyzed in Mr. J. C. Miller’s recent +study, are those of the expert propagandist and organizer. It is hard +to believe that today the advertising business would leave a man of his +parts undiscovered and unrewarded. + +Thomas Paine, who managed to involve himself in two revolutions, the +American and the French, is still another revolutionist who amounted +to very little before the revolution. When he sailed for America +in 1774 he was thirty-eight, certainly no longer a young man. He +came from East-Anglian Quaker artisan stock, and had picked up an +eighteenth-century education, chiefly in the sciences and in the +philosophy of the Enlightenment, while pursuing half a dozen different +occupations from privateering to stay-making and shopkeeping. He had +made an unsuccessful marriage, been in and out of the excise service +twice, acquired a reputation as the town “atheist” of Lewes in Sussex, +and had led an unsuccessful and somewhat premature attempt at lobbying +in the interest of his fellow-excisemen. This attempt, which resulted +in his second and final dismissal from the service, also brought him +to the attention of Benjamin Franklin, who encouraged him to emigrate. +But Paine arrived in Philadelphia like many another European, an +unsuccessful man looking for a new start. The revolution gave it to +him, and _Common Sense_ made him a distinguished publicist. Paine was +the professional radical, the crusading journalist, the religious +rationalist, a man who in quiet times could hardly have been more than +another Bradlaugh, another Ingersoll. + +On the other hand, revolution not infrequently brings to the top men +of very practical abilities, men of the kind that even cautious and +hard-headed conservatives must recognize as worthy of respect. Such +men may have lived in obscurity simply because they had not been +disturbed; or they may have been the victims of some such stoppage in +the circulation of the élite, the career open to talents, as we noted +in a previous chapter. Cromwell is a classic example of a man who might +have remained a simple country gentleman with an undistinguished career +in the House of Commons had it not been for the Puritan revolution. +Of Washington himself a similar generalization can be made. We shall +come back again to this question of the soundness of revolutionary +leadership. + +So far we have said nothing of the men of blood, of Carrier and the +_noyades_ of Nantes, of Collot d’Herbois and the _mitraillades_ of +Lyons, of those to us nameless agents of the Cheka whose work made the +French Reign of Terror seem mild in comparison, or of those English +agents of the so-called Cromwellian settlement of Ireland who for +long-time effectiveness perhaps hold the record among Terrorists. We +shall later come to the problem of terroristic methods during the +crisis period of our revolutions. Here we are simply interested in +pointing out that among the personnel of the revolutionists are a +number of men who have been singled out by posterity as examples of the +kind of monster that comes to the surface in revolutions. No one can +deny the fact of such emergence, nor the fact that such men can hardly +be understood save with the help of criminology and abnormal psychology. + +Carrier himself is a perfectly good example of these men. However +much Republican apologists may try to soften down the melodramatic +accounts his enemies have left of his activities at Nantes, the fact +remains that he did so speed up the revolutionary courts that it became +much easier to drown convicted persons in batches in the river Loire +than to wait for the slow-moving guillotine. Carrier was a provincial +lawyer who had got himself elected to the Convention by joining his +local club and repeating the stock phrases of the Enlightenment. He +was sent as a representative on mission to Nantes, and there power +seems to have gone to his head. Moreover, Nantes was on the edge of +the always dangerous Vendée, and Carrier may well have been driven to +cleaning up his enemies in a group by fear of conspiracy against his +own life. He certainly put up a bold front, swaggered about town, gave +entertainments, talked big, and left behind him festering hatreds that +brought his downfall and condemnation to death after the Terror was +over. + +Carrier reminds one of Mr. James T. Farrell’s gangsters. There is the +bravado, the consciousness of life lived at the level of melodrama, the +new, crude sense of power, the constant haunting fear of reprisals, +the childish immediacy of purpose. What one does not find in Carrier +is a specific pathological love of bloodshed, a diseased mind of the +sort linked with the name of the Marquis de Sade. Indeed, this latter +kind of insanity is more often found among the jailers, thugs, and +hangers-on of revolution than among its leaders, even leaders at the +level of Carrier. And of course to many people the most revolting acts +in general are the acts of revolutionary mobs--the September massacres +at Paris in 1792, for instance, which are very closely paralleled by +the history of lynching in America. Here there crop up some of the +most shocking instances of human cruelty; but they are by no means +specifically to be associated with revolutions. Pogroms and lynchings +are at least as bad. Revolutions and mobs are not interchangeable +terms; you can and usually do have one without the other. The kind of +cruelty more properly associated with revolutions is the cruelty--to +some people more revolting than the cruelty of mobs--of judicial +murders done in cold blood, and on principle. + +There is another type commonly, but erroneously, held to come to the +top in revolutions. This is the crack-brained schemer, the fantastic +doctrinaire, the man who has a crazy gadget which will bring Utopia. +Briefly, perhaps, in the honeymoon stage the lunatic fringe has its +innings, and in the English revolution rather more than its innings, +at least in print. But revolutions are a serious business, not to be +distracted by eccentricities. Once the line of revolutionary orthodoxy +is established--and though as we shall see it is a grim and rigid line, +it is not a crazy and aberrant one--once this orthodoxy is established +the lunatics, mild or serious, are pretty well kept down. There are +Marxist revolutions, natural rights revolutions, but none for the +Single Tax, Social Credit, Theosophy or Extra Sensory Perception. It +is only your very stable societies, like Victorian England, that can +afford to turn a Hyde Park over to the lunatic fringe. Even if you +think Cromwell, Washington, Robespierre, Napoleon, Lenin, and Stalin +all belong to this lunatic fringe, you will have to admit that in their +day of power they clamped down pretty hard on other and discordant +lunatics. + +Nor is it possible to isolate a revolutionary type labeled “criminal,” +“degenerate,” and neatly conforming to some anthropometric standards. +Attempts to do this sort of thing have certainly been made. There are +probably those who hold that revolutionists have a fixed cephalic +index, or that they are predominantly dark-haired. Certainly there are +many revolutionists who, like Carrier, behave as criminals behave in +stable societies; but the proportion of such revolutionists does not +seem extraordinarily high. + +A more characteristic revolutionary type is the disputatious, +contrary-minded person who loves to stand out from the crowd of +conformists. Indeed, one of our revolutionary groups, the English +Puritans, was filled with this especially rugged anarchism. Not only +do individuals stand out in this respect; the group as a whole sets +itself off deliberately from the great and the fashionable. As a social +historian has written: “Whatever was in fashion is what the Puritan +would not wear. When ruffs were in vogue, he wore a large falling band; +when pickadillies [ruffs] were out of request [1638], and wide falling +bands of delicate lawn edged with fine lace came in, he wore a very +small band. Fashionable shoes were wide at the toe; his were sharp. +Fashionable stockings were, as a rule, of any color except black; his +were black. His garters were short, and, before all, his hair was +short. Even at the end of Elizabeth’s reign, short hair was a mark of +Puritanism.” + +The type is seen most clearly, however, in certain individuals. John +Lilburne, the English Leveller, is virtue incarnate and uncomfortable. +He seems to have come of a family of rugged individuals, for his +father, a gentleman of Durham, is said to have been the last Englishman +to have recourse to the feudal right to ask for judgment through +ordeal by combat in a civil suit. John was steadily addicted to +contention, and attacked Presbyterians and Independents as bitterly +as he had earlier attacked the Court. Indeed, as an historian has +written, “Lilburne was tried in almost every court in the kingdom, +under varying conditions, during a period of some twenty years, for +libels on the Government of the day, King, Parliament, Commonwealth, +and Protector. One of the first duties that devolved upon the judges +of the Commonwealth was to deal with this gentleman.” Yet he seems to +have preserved a good deal of social pride along with that intellectual +and spiritual pride which is one of the marks of the English Puritan. +On trial in 1653, he told his judge, a self-made man of artisan +background who had risen with Cromwell, that “it was fitter for him +[the judge] to sell thimbles and bodkins than to sit in judgment on +a person so much his superior.” Henry Marten, the regicide, who ought +to have been a good judge of such matters, said that if the world were +emptied of all but John Lilburne, Lilburne would quarrel with John and +John would quarrel with Lilburne. Lilburne’s pamphlets are full of the +self-righteousness of those who fight always for the right, and who +seem to take delight in the uncomfortable position to which the poet +later assigned the right-- + + “Right forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne.” + +We are close to the martyrs. + +Lilburne’s motives were no doubt of the highest. He believed in +absolute democracy, and his platform of manhood suffrage, biennial +parliaments, religious toleration, equality before the law, was one day +to secure pretty complete acceptance in England. But in 1645 only a +very doctrinaire person, only a fanatic, could have held this platform +possible of immediate realization. Lilburne was not only a disputatious +man, a courter of martyrdom; he was what the world commonly calls an +idealist, and suggests a consideration of a type which occurs very +frequently in these revolutions. It does not seem altogether wise to +single out any one type as the perfect revolutionist, but if you must +have such a type, then you will do well to consider, not the embittered +failure, not the envious upstart, not the bloodthirsty lunatic, but +the idealist. Idealists, of course, are in our own times the cement of +a stable, normal society. It is good for us all that there should be +men of noble aspirations, men who have put behind them the dross of +this world for the pure word, for the idea and the ideal as the noblest +philosophers have known them. But in normal times such idealists do not +seem, at least in Western society, to occupy positions of power and +responsibility. In normal times today we look up to our idealists, +and occasionally give them prizes and honorary degrees, but we do not +choose them to rule over us. We notably refuse to let them make our +foreign policies. + +Indeed, one of the distinguishing marks of a revolution is this: that +in revolutionary times the idealist at last gets a chance to try and +realize his ideals. Revolutions are full of men who hold very high +standards of human conduct, the kind of standards which have for +several thousand years been described by some word or phrase which has +the overtones that “idealistic” has for us today. There is no need for +us to worry over the metaphysical, nor even the semantic, implications +of the term. We all know an idealist when we see one, and certainly +when we hear one. + +Robespierre would have been an idealist in any society. There is a +familiar story of how the young Robespierre resigned a judgeship rather +than inflict the death penalty, which ran counter to his humanitarian +eighteenth-century upbringing. Historians have pretty well destroyed +that story, as they have so many others from the cherry tree to Alfred +and the cakes. But, except in the very narrowest and least useful +senses of the word, such stories are in many important ways usually +“true.” This story about Robespierre suggests that he was a good child +of the Enlightenment. One need only read some of his speeches, full of +the simplicities, the moral aphorisms, the aspirations of that innocent +age, to realize that he was quite capable of resigning, or buying, a +judgeship rather than abandon his ideals. He would, indeed, kill for +his ideals. + +Those ideals, as they got formed by 1793, may seem to us somewhat +less than heroic, and they were certainly bolstered by a good deal of +personal ambition and sheer vanity in Robespierre. But there they were: +Robespierre wanted a France where there should be neither rich nor +poor, where men should not gamble, nor get drunk, nor commit adultery, +nor cheat, nor rob, nor kill--where, in short, there would be neither +petty nor grand vices--a France ruled by upright and intelligent men +elected by the universal suffrage of the people, men wholly without +greed or love of office, and delightedly stepping down at yearly +intervals to give place to their successors, a France at peace with +herself and the world--but surely this is enough? Robespierre’s +personal rectitude is now hardly questioned even by historians hostile +to what he stood for; in his own day, and especially immediately +after his fall, he was accused of almost every possible crime and +moral delinquency. He seems actually not even to have had any of the +fashionable vices--no drink, no gaming, no women. Modern historians +claim to have evidence that for a brief time in Paris he kept a +mistress. If he did, one supposes it must have been out of motives of +fancied hygiene; or possibly for a few weeks the country lawyer had +ideas of living as did the fashionable Parisians. The Robespierre of +the Terror, however, had certainly put such ideas behind him, and was, +as the Incorruptible, a living symbol of the Republic of Virtue in his +public and private life. + +Now this idealist type is by no means simple. Cromwell should clearly +not be listed primarily under this category, and yet there is something +of the puritanical “seeker” in Cromwell, something that makes his +tortuous policy--indeed his double-dealing--very hard to understand if +you insist on seeing human beings as logically consistent wholes. Both +Lenin and Trotsky are strange compounds of idealism and realism. This +coupling of idealism and realism does not mean simply that they both on +occasion could use realistic methods to attain ends dictated by their +ideals. Robespierre, Cromwell, Gladstone, or Woodrow Wilson could +do that. It means that they were also capable of pursuing realistic +immediate ends. Lenin, of course, was a very skillful propagandist +and organizer, with a great deal of what we shall have to call +executive ability. But, at least in 1917, he seems to have thought that +world-wide revolution was just around the corner, and that absolute +economic equality could be introduced immediately in Russia. The New +Economic Policy of 1921 is a clear indication that Lenin would not +pursue his ideals to the bitter end of defeat and martyrdom. + +Trotsky has one of the best critical minds of any Marxist, is even +capable, at moments, of a kind of skepticism about his own aims. The +Civil War of 1917-21 in Russia gave convincing proof of his abilities +both as an orator and as an executive under pressure. Yet the Trotsky +of the exile years seems to be howling for the moon, which is one +definition, perhaps too unkind, of idealism. Had Trotsky remained in +power he might indeed have made his peace with bureaucracy, inequality, +socialism-in-one-country, Thermidorean decadence and all the other +evils he now associates with the name of Stalin. And yet it seems not +unlikely that this intransigeance of Trotsky’s, this insistence on +bringing heaven immediately to earth, this unwillingness to accommodate +his aims to human weakness, or if you like, to human nature, help to +explain why he did not last in post-revolutionary Russia. + +Sentimental idealism was of course distinctly out of fashion in +the Russia of 1917. The harsh realities, or at any rate the harsh +_formulas_, of Marxist Socialism had replaced the naïve hopes with +which the French revolution had set out to make this a better world. +In both Lenin and Trotsky you can trace this desire to seem to be +hard-boiled, and it will not do to imply that they did not in some +ways succeed. There is one pure idealist among the Russian leaders, +however, one who presents us with still another variant of the type. +That is Lunacharsky, long Commissar for Education, the artist and +man of culture of the movement. Lunacharsky, in spite of his past as +a revolutionary agitator, was unquestionably a softie. He possessed +the ability to talk movingly about life and education and art, and +carried over into a century where it seemed a little strange something +of Rousseau or of _Paul and Virginia_. The world should be grateful +to him, however, for he helped greatly to prevent the wholesale +destruction of works of art identified offhand with a dissolute +capitalistic past. + +There is, finally, the man almost wholly of words, the man who can +hold crowds spellbound, the revolutionary orator. He may be listed as +an idealist, because although part of his role is to egg the crowd +on to acts of violence, he is even more typically the soother, the +preacher, the ritual-maker, the man who holds the crowd together. In +this role his words need hardly have any meaning at all, but commonly +they can be analyzed out into pleasant aspirations and utterances. Much +of Robespierre comes under this head, as do Patrick Henry, Vergniaud, +Tseretelli. The type, of course, exists in all normal societies, and +is usually esteemed. Zinoviev seems in the Russian revolution to have +borne some such role. Lenin realized how useful Zinoviev was as an +orator and even as a kind of Petrograd boss, but he seems to have had a +pretty complete contempt for his sense and intelligence. + + +V. _Summary_ + +To sum up, it should by now be clear that it takes almost as many +kinds of men and women to make a revolution as to make a world. It is +probable that, especially in their crisis periods, our revolutions +threw up into positions of prominence and even of responsibility men +of the kind who would in normal or healthy societies not attain similar +positions. Notably, great revolutions would appear to put idealists +in possession of power they do not ordinarily have. They would seem +also to give scope for special talents, such as Marat had, for yellow +journalism and muck-raking of a very lively sort. They certainly create +a number of empty places to fill, and give an opportunity to clever +young men who may also be unscrupulous. They probably insure a bit +more public attention, for a while at least, to the chronic rebel and +complainer, as well as to the lunatic fringe of peddlers of social and +political nostrums. + +But they do not re-create mankind, nor do they even make use of a +completely new and hitherto suppressed set of men and women. In all +four of our revolutions, even in the Russian revolution, the rank +and file was composed of quite ordinary men and women, probably a +bit superior to their less active fellows in energy and willingness +to experiment, and in the English, American, and French revolutions, +even in their crisis periods, people of substantial property. +These revolutionists were not in general afflicted with anything +the psychiatrist could be called in about. They were certainly not +riffraff, scoundrels, scum of the earth. They were not even worms +turning. Nor were their leaders by any means an inferior lot suddenly +elevated to positions of power which they could not worthily occupy. +There is no question that in the turmoil of revolutions a good many +scoundrels rise to the top--though they can also rise to the top +without benefit of revolution, as a glance at some of the phases of +either the Grant or the Harding administrations should amply prove. +But the level of ability, of ability in an almost technical sense, +the ability to handle men and to administer a complex social system, +the level of ability suggested by names like Hampden, Pym, Cromwell, +Washington, John Adams, Hamilton, Jefferson, Mirabeau, Talleyrand, +Carnot, Cambon, Danton, Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, is certainly very high. + +All this by no means amounts to asserting the paradox that there +are no real differences between revolutions and ordinary times. +On the contrary, especially in their crisis periods, revolutions +are like nothing else on earth. But you cannot altogether explain +the differences between societies in revolution and societies in +equilibrium by suggesting that a whole new crew operates during a +revolution; by saying, if you dislike a particular revolution and all +its works, that the scoundrels and the bums put it over on the good +souls; or if you happen to like and approve a particular revolution, +that the heroes and sages turned out the corrupt old gang. It just +isn’t as simple as all that. Since on the whole the evidence would seem +to show that revolutionists are more or less a cross-section of common +humanity, an explanation for the undoubted fact that during certain +phases of a revolution they behave in a way we should not expect such +people to behave, must be sought in changes worked on them by the +conditions they live under, by their revolutionary environment. + + + + +_Chapter_ FIVE THE RULE OF THE MODERATES + + +_I. The Problem of the Moderates_ + +In the summer of 1792 Lafayette, with some of his officers, left +the French Army and passed over to the Austrian lines. He was +promptly put in prison by the Austrians, to whom he was a dangerous +firebrand of revolution. Lafayette was, however, a good deal more +fortunate than many of his fellow-heroes of 1789 who elected to stay +in France, and who were guillotined as dangerous reactionaries and +counter-revolutionists. Fedor Linde, a moderate Socialist who in April, +1917, moved the Finnish Regiment to a mutinous demonstration against +the pro-Ally and still more moderate Miliukov, was later sent to the +front as a government commissar under Kerensky and there was lynched +by mutinous soldiers who refused to obey his commands. In 1647 Denzil +Holles, of whom we took note briefly back in 1629, as he was helping +to hold down the Speaker in his chair, was with ten other Presbyterian +members excluded from Parliament for “endeavoring to overthrow the +rights and liberties of the subjects.” He did indeed return briefly to +his seat again in 1648, but was soon forced to flee to France to save +his life. A famous phrase from the French revolution puts the thing +neatly: “The revolution, like Saturn, devours its children.” + +The honeymoon was in these revolutions short; very soon after the old +regime had fallen there began to be evident signs that the victors were +not as unanimous about what was to be done to remake the country as had +appeared in the first triumphant speeches and ceremonies. Those who had +directly taken over the mechanism of government were in all four of our +societies men of the kind usually called moderates. They represented +the richer, better known and higher placed of the old opposition to +the government, and it is only to be expected that they should take +over from that government. Indeed, as we have seen, their assumption of +responsibility is almost a spontaneous act. So strong is this feeling +that the moderates should take over power that it prevailed even in +Russia in February, 1917. It looks to us now as though a Socialist +coalition of some kind--Social-Revolutionary and Menshevik groups, with +possibly even Bolshevik adhesions--might just as well have assumed +power right away in that month. The Kadets and other bourgeois groups +clearly had few strong roots in the country. And yet Lvov and his +well-meaning moderates had little difficulty in assuming at least +nominal control. + +The moderates, once in power, turned out to have less homogeneity and +party discipline than they seemed to have when they were in opposition. +They were faced with the difficult task of reforming existing +institutions, or making a new constitution, and taking care at the same +time of the ordinary work of governing. They were also confronted very +soon with armed enemies, and found themselves engaged in a foreign or +civil war, or in both together. They found against them an increasingly +strong and intransigeant group of radicals and extremists who insisted +that the moderates were trying to stop the revolution, that they +had betrayed it, that they were as bad as the rulers of the old +regime--indeed, much worse, since they were traitors as well as fools +and scoundrels. After a period, brief in Russia, longer in France and +England, there came a show of force between moderates and extremists, +a show of force in many ways quite like that earlier one between the +old government and the revolutionists, and the moderates were beaten. +They fled into exile, they were put into prison ultimately to face the +scaffold, guillotine, or firing-squad, or if they were lucky or obscure +enough, they dropped out of sight and were forgotten. The extremists in +their turn took power. + +This process was not quite the same in the American revolution, where +on the whole it may be said that extremists like the Independents, +the Jacobins, and the Bolsheviks, did not attain undivided rule. +Nevertheless, as we shall see, in America rather earlier in the +revolutionary process a struggle between moderates and radicals had +been fought out, and had ended with victory for the radicals. The +fruit of that victory was the Declaration of Independence. We may say +then that in all our revolutions there is a tendency for power to go +from Right to Center to Left, from the conservatives of the old regime +to the moderates to the radicals or extremists. As power moves along +this line, it gets more and more concentrated, more and more narrows +its base in the country and among the people, since at each important +crisis the defeated group has to drop out of politics. To put it in +another way: after each crisis the victors tend to split into a more +conservative wing holding power and a more radical one in opposition. +Up to a certain stage, each crisis sees the radical opposition +triumphant. The details of this process vary naturally from revolution +to revolution. Its stages are not identical in length or in their +time-sequence. In America power never got as far Left as it did in the +other countries. + +Nevertheless this struggle between moderates and extremists is a stage +in our revolutions as definite as those we have studied in previous +chapters, and by its very existence provides us with a useful if +somewhat simple uniformity. Before we attempt to make refinements in +this observation, before we try to discern uniformities in the conduct +of moderates and extremists, we must review briefly the course of +events during the rule of the moderates. + + +_II. Events During the Rule of the Moderates_ + +With the outbreak of the Civil War in the summer of 1642, Royalists +and Parliamentarians stood opposed in arms. By the Battle of Marston +Moor in 1644, and certainly by that of Naseby in 1645, the Royalist +cause had become, in a military sense, hopeless. But almost from the +first clear break with Charles, the Parliamentarians had won their +revolution. The Royalists did but play more effectively the role played +in America by the Tories, in France by the Royalists and clericals in +the provinces, the _émigrés_ abroad, in Russia by the numerous White +Armies which opposed the Bolsheviks until 1921. We are not here so much +interested in the Royalists as in the Parliamentarians. Within these +latter there is from 1642 on an increasingly evident division between +groups which we may call roughly moderates and extremists. + +The division is not at first a simple one between two parties. At the +extreme right of the Parliamentarians were a few moderate Episcopalians +just touched with puritan notions, and usually also constitutional +monarchists. Many of this group were on the whole indifferent to +religious questions, felt that church matters would settle themselves +decently if the political difficulties could be adjusted. Between +these men and the moderate Royalists, who somewhat reluctantly chose +to stand with their king, there was actually very little difference. +Next came the great moderate party, Presbyterian in religion, puritan +in ethics, monarchist at heart, but monarchist in what was to become +the Whig tradition of the monarch who reigns but does not govern. The +left wing of the Presbyterians, early disillusioned with the idea of +monarchy by their hatred for Charles, merged easily with the main group +of the extremists. These in the English revolution are called the +Independents, extreme Calvinists who insisted upon the independence of +each separate congregation. Their notions of church government were +substantially those well known in this country as Congregationalism. +With them for most political purposes were other groups that +subsequently made up the English nonconformists or dissenters--notably +the Baptists. The New Model Army, through which these radicals made +themselves an effective force in the revolution, contained individuals +espousing almost every conceivable kind of evangelical religious +belief, and a good many varieties of economic and social beliefs. But +the group did work as a group, and its core was certainly Independent. +To the left were other groups, Levellers, Diggers, Fifth Monarchy men, +whom we shall consider in a later chapter. + +Now the fact that Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents are +in the English revolution respectively conservatives, moderates, and +extremists, is a bit confusing to the modern reader. For the extreme +idealists, these seventeenth-century Englishmen are fighting over +religious matters, fighting for ideals, and he finds it absurd to +equate them with Frenchmen fighting for worldly liberty, equality, +and fraternity, and shocking to compare them with Russians fighting +for crude economic interests. On the other hand, the modern convert +to the economic interpretation of history is likely to regard these +religious differences as mere “ideologies,” or pretexts for a quarrel +which was really a simple economic one. To him, the Presbyterians +were small gentry or bourgeois business men, the Independents petty +bourgeois traders, artisans, and yeomen farmers who quarreled after +they had disposed of the feudal upper classes. Both the idealist and +the materialist are here clearly wrong. Politics, economics, church +government, and theology are inextricably mingled in the minds and +sentiments of seventeenth-century Englishmen. Their conflicts are +conflicts between human beings, not between the abstractions of the +philosopher, the economist, or the sociologist. We must here observe +the ways in which these conflicts worked out. From many points of +view, it is profitable to regard these conflicts as exhibiting the +sequence of domination first by conservatives, then by moderates, +then by extremists. Naturally these conservatives, moderates, and +extremists were not identical with similar groups in later revolutions. +As compared with the men of 1789 or of 1917, they read different books, +disputed over different ideas, just as they wore different clothes. Yet +the course of their revolution does display a striking identity with +our other revolutions in the relation between political organization +and human temperaments. The Presbyterian “compromisers” were pushed +aside by more determined and extreme men, just as were the Feuillants +and Girondins in France and the Kadets and compromisist Socialist +groups in Russia. + +Under the leadership of the Westminster Assembly, a Presbyterian synod +which began its meetings in the summer of 1643, that part of England +under parliamentary control was brought under the famed Scottish +Covenant. Crosses, images, crucifixes were torn down, the stained glass +removed from the churches, sermons lengthened, and liturgy simplified. +Parliament became the supreme law of the land. But already there were +signs that the Presbyterian rule was not to go unchallenged. Marston +Moor was not a Presbyterian victory. It was won by Cromwell and his +“Ironsides”; and these men were not good Presbyterians. They were +Independents, and some were Anabaptists, Antinomians, Heaven knows +what! It is said that someone complained to Cromwell because one of his +officers was an Anabaptist, and received the reply, “Admit he be, shall +that render him incapable to serve the public? Take heed of being too +sharp ... against those to whom you can object little but that they +square not with you in every opinion concerning matters of religion.” + +When the New Model Army was constructed from the nucleus of +Cromwell’s Ironsides, and had won the Battle of Naseby, army and +Parliament, Independent and Presbyterian, extremists and moderates, +found themselves in opposition on various questions, notably on +religious toleration and on what was to be done about Charles I. The +Presbyterians wanted an established state church, built on their own +notions of church government and theology, with a minimum of toleration +towards papists and prelatists on the right and the sects on the +left. And they most certainly wanted a king, even if that king were +Charles Stuart. The Independents wanted what they called toleration. +They certainly didn’t mean what a nineteenth-century Englishman or an +American meant by religious toleration, and when they got into power +they were very far from practicing toleration, even in the sense in +which they had preached it. But at least while they were in opposition +they agreed that religious belief was a personal matter and that the +state should not seek to impose identical religious practices and +organization on its citizens. As for the King, most of them by 1645 +were sure Charles Stuart would never do. Cromwell was probably never a +doctrinaire republican, but a great many of his men certainly were. + +No single event marks exactly the transfer of power from the moderates +to the extremists in England. The process had gone pretty far when +Cornet Joyce of the army in June, 1646, seized the King at Holmby +House as he was about to yield to the Parliament and consent for three +years to govern as a Presbyterian king. It was almost completed when +two months later Parliament at the dictation of the army reluctantly +consented to the exclusion of eleven of its own members, conspicuous +leaders of the Presbyterian group. Charles took the occasion of the +quarrel to attempt to further his own interests. His complicated +intrigues ended in nothing better than a brief war between the +Scottish Presbyterians and the Cromwellians, in which for a moment the +moderates could look up hopefully. Cromwell defeated the Scotch at +Preston Pans in August, 1648, and the army was in undisputed control in +Great Britain. After this the formal end of the moderates at Pride’s +Purge in December was unimportant. Colonel Pride and a few soldiers +were stationed at the door of the House of Commons to turn back the +unsuitable members as they came. Ninety-six Presbyterians were thus +excluded, leaving a group of fifty or sixty regular voting members on +whom the extremists could rely. The Long Parliament had become the Rump. + +In America the conflict never took quite such clear lines. We may say +that the conservatives were those Tories who never really complained +about the imperial government, the moderates those merchants and +prosperous landowners who in a sense began the whole movement by their +agitation against the Stamp Act, and the radicals that by no means +united group which finally put through the Declaration of Independence. +There was thus a kind of three-way struggle going on among these +groups in the ten years preceding the outbreak of hostilities with the +British Army. In this struggle the radicals exhibited an extraordinary +technical skill in the practical politics of revolution. As John +Adams later wrote of the organizations which, starting with local +committees of correspondence and committees of safety, worked up to +the continental congresses: “What an engine! France imitated it and +produced a revolution.... And all Europe was inclined to imitate it for +the same revolutionary purpose.” + +The radicals really won their decisive victory by organizing as they +did the first Continental Congress in 1774. Professor A. M. Schlesinger +admirably summarizes the work of this Congress: “The radicals had +achieved several important ends. They had reproduced on a national +scale a type of organization and a species of tactics that in many +parts of British America had enabled a determined minority to seize +control of affairs ... they had snatched from the merchant class the +weapons which the latter had fashioned to advance their own selfish +interests in former years, and had now reversed the weapons on them, +in an attempt to secure ends desired solely by the radicals. Finally, +they had defined--nationalized--the issue at stake in such a manner as +to afford prestige to radical groups, wherever they were to be found, +and to weaken the hold of the moderate elements, on the ground that the +latter were at variance with the Continental Congress.” + +The taking of the Bastille on July 14, 1789, in France sealed the +defeat of the most conservative group, the true Royalists. The +victorious revolutionists did not long remain in harmony, and the +process of transfer of power to the left began in a few months. In +October of the same year the King and Queen were riotously brought back +to Paris from Versailles in what are known as the October Days. These +events sent into exile the leaders of the moderate conservatives, +men like Mounier who greatly admired the English Constitution, and +wished France to have a bicameral legislature with a House of Lords +and a House of Commons, and a real king. For the next few years a +group of moderates centering about men like Mirabeau, Lafayette and +the Lameths, were opposed by a group of radicals centering around +men--Pétion, Robespierre, Danton, Brissot--soon to be leaders of +the rival republican groups of Gironde and Mountain, but at present +united against the moderates. The moderates succeeded in making the +Constitution, and starting the new regime off. But war between France +and the Central European powers of Austria and Prussia broke out, +certain provisions of the Constitution, notably those concerning +religion and the monarchy, failed to work well, Louis himself was +suspected of treason by many of his subjects, and in the general +political turmoil the active and well-organized radicals overthrew +the monarchy in the famous attack on the Tuileries Palace in Paris on +August 10, 1792. + +Avowed monarchists and such mild reformers and liberals as Lafayette +were thus excluded from power, and France became a republic. But the +final and critical defeat of the moderates in France is better placed +on June 2, 1793. In matters of this sort, as in any splitting up of +historical events into periods, there may be legitimate differences of +interpretation. Conservatives, moderates, and radicals and extremists +are not in any of our societies absolutely clear-cut and definite +groups, nor is the transference of power from one to another very often +a single event agreed upon by all to be such. You may feel that no +moderate could have voted the end of the French monarchy. None the less +it would seem that the right wing of the republicans, known to history +as the Girondins, and to their contemporaries as the Brissotins, +were really moderates upon whom circumstances forced actions to +them disagreeably radical and extreme. Notably they did not wish the +death of the King. They were mostly prosperous bourgeois, lawyers and +intellectuals, and after the trial of the King in January, 1793, they +became very sure that the revolution had gone far enough, that it ought +to be stopped. Whatever their past, they had now become moderates. By +the early months of 1793 they had lost control of the Paris Jacobin +Club and with it most of the other revolutionary clubs and the whole +network of organizations which had helped the radicals achieve their +ends in the early days of the revolution. They could not command the +support of the hesitating and more or less neutral mass of deputies in +the Convention who were called the Plain. Their enemies were better +organized, more aggressive, and perhaps more unscrupulous. They were +certainly more successful. + +Just as with the Presbyterians in England, there came the demand +that these now moderate leaders be excluded from the Convention and +brought under arrest. In a test of strength in the Convention on June +2, 1793, the extremists took care to surround the meeting-place of +that body with sympathetic Parisian militiamen, back of whom assembled +a large and hostile crowd. The Convention tried to stand on their +representative dignity and to refuse to permit the arrest of the +twenty-two members demanded by the Mountain. Headed by their president, +they solemnly marched out to ensure that their position be respected +as the embodiment of the will of the people. The deputies made the +circuit of the gardens, finding an unyielding row of bayonets at every +gate, and a “people” with a temporary will of its own. They returned +indoors and voted the arrest of the twenty-two Girondins. The radical +Montagnards were now in undisputed command. + +Events moved rather faster in Russia, but their sequence is almost +identical with those in England and in France. The first provisional +government headed nominally by Prince Lvov, really by Miliukov, was +made up mostly of Kadets, the left wing of middle-class groups in the +old Duma, but no more than “progressives,” “liberals,” or “democrats” +in Western political terminology. There were several representatives +of more conservative groups, and only one Socialist, Kerensky. After +a life of less than two months, this government broke down over the +question of continuing an “imperialist” war on the side of the allies. +Miliukov was forced out for too great compliance with the imperialism +of the allies, and a number of Mensheviks and Social-Revolutionaries +accepted positions in the new government. In July Kerensky took the +formal leadership after a crisis, and in September the Kadets finally +withdrew altogether, leaving Kerensky at the head of a very shaky +moderate Socialist government. + +The Socialists who thus consented to co-operate with bourgeois +governments in the prosecution of the war were christened by +the Bolsheviks “compromisist.” Such Socialists came from almost +all the fractions into which this political faith had split in +twentieth-century Russia, where the usual doctrinal differences within +Marxism were complicated by those which looked back into Russian +history for a peculiarly deep-seated Slavic village-communism. In the +specific Russian situation, these Social-Revolutionaries, Trudoviks, +Narodniks, Mensheviks, must be called moderates. They did not hope +to introduce the dictatorship of the proletariat. They wanted to win +the war, and they were willing to make use of parliamentary methods +to secure social reforms. They had long been distrustful of the +Kadets, but under the pressure of events they consented to co-operate +with them. The Kadets themselves suffered the fate of the Puritan +Episcopalians and the Feuillants; they were pushed out by their +collaborators to the Left. + +The Bolsheviks refused to take part in any of these governments. +They insisted that the bourgeois revolution of February must sooner +or later be followed by the proletarian revolution Marx had preached +and predicted. Lenin, who returned from a Swiss exile in April to +enjoy a few months of bourgeois freedom, decided that the proletarian +revolution might be brought off in Russia. His party was by no means +unanimously agreed, but his leadership kept the small band together, +and the blunders of the compromisists, together with the heritage +of defeat and disorganization, played into his hands. In July a +premature rising of workers in Petrograd was apparently given local and +reluctant leadership by some of the party, and its failure sent Lenin +into hiding, and Trotsky and Lunacharsky to prison. The subsequent +swing of the pendulum to the Right ended with the abortive attempt +of General Kornilov to march on Petrograd, and in this whole process +the Bolsheviks gradually acquired new courage and a new following. +Lenin from hiding held a guiding hand. Trotsky was released, and +elected president of a Petrograd soviet now in Bolshevik control. +Lenin, back secretly in Petrograd, presided at a final meeting of the +party Central Committee, and an insurrection was decided upon. In a +masterly exhibition of revolutionary technique, a military revolution +committee made sure of the Petrograd garrison, other groups contrived +to hamstring the press and communications, and on the agreed day the +Bolsheviks took over Petrograd with astonishingly little difficulty and +almost no bloodshed. Even the siege of the Winter Palace, which forms +the high point of the uprising, has a comic-opera touch. The October +revolution in Petrograd was almost as bloodless as Pride’s Purge or +June 2, 1793, the corresponding events in the English and French +revolutions. In Moscow there was real fighting, but there, too, the +Bolsheviks were successful within a week. Kerensky fled, and the rule +of the moderates in Russia was over. + + +_III. Dual Sovereignty_ + +The Russian revolution affords the neatest example of a uniformity that +lies beyond the somewhat superficial uniformity of sequence of power +from conservatives to moderates to extremists, from Right to Center +to Left. This is at once an institution and a process; or better, +a process that works through a very similar set of institutions. +Theorists and historians of the Russian revolution refer to it as the +_dvoevlastie_, a word usually translated as dual power, but containing +overtones that make it better translated, perhaps, as dual sovereignty. +We must go briefly into the general situation to which this word refers. + +The problem of sovereignty has long been in itself sufficient to keep +hundreds of political philosophers busy and happy. Here once more, +having other work to do, we must resign ourselves to abstention from +these philosophical delights. In a normal Western society, it may +well be difficult or impossible to locate any one person, or group +of persons, who possesses the final, authoritative power to decide +questions concerning what the society is to do. The pluralists would +seem to be, from the point of view of description of social processes, +quite right. Even the broader political policies of a modern state +seem to be arrived at by so elaborately natural a process of adjusting +the desires of conflicting groups, that to say that a single and +identifiable “sovereign” determines these policies is nonsense. And +yet in a normal society there is at least one co-ordinated chain of +institutions through which conflicting groups do finally adjust their +conflicts, for the moment at least, in action. That co-ordination may +seem inefficient and irrational when academically analyzed, and it may +well be so complicated that even the politicians who make it work do +not understand it. For men are as often as not unaware of how they do +things they do very successfully. + +But it does work, and through it questions at issue are decided--or +forgotten, which is also a kind of deciding. Those who do not like the +decision may try to alter it by a very great variety of action, from +agitation to conspiracy or sabotage. Socially powerful or numerous +groups may under favoring conditions even go so far as to nullify a +given decision: the example of the Eighteenth Amendment in the United +States will occur to everyone. On the whole, however, the decisions +become law, and overt disobedience becomes criminal. + +When another and conflicting chain of institutions provides another +and conflicting set of decisions, then you have a dual sovereignty. +Within the same society, two sets of institutions, leaders, and +laws demand obedience, not in one single respect, but in the whole +interwoven series of actions which make up life for the average man. +Thus the nullification of the Prohibition Amendment by many citizens +over large areas of the United States did not in itself mean that there +was in this country a revolutionary situation of dual sovereignty. +Were a similar nullification extended by, let us say, a strengthened +amalgamation of the American Federation of Labor and the Committee for +Industrial Organization from the Fourteenth Amendment on through to the +common law of property; were this amalgamation to enforce laws of its +own on workers in factories; were it to take over many of the functions +of local government in relation to markets, sanitation, police, and so +on--we should clearly have dual sovereignty. We should, as a matter +of fact, have a state of affairs something like that in Russia in the +summer of 1917. + +In _all_ our revolutions, however, the legal government finds opposed +to it, once the first steps in actual revolution have been taken, not +merely hostile individuals and parties--this any government finds--but +a rival government, better organized, better staffed, better obeyed. +This rival government is of course illegal, but not all of its leaders +and followers are from the beginning consciously aiming to supplant +the legal government. Very often they think of themselves as merely +supplementing it, perhaps also as preserving it in a revolutionary +course. Yet a rival government they are, and no mere critics or +opponents. At a given revolutionary crisis they step naturally and +easily into the place of the defeated government. + +This process does indeed work itself out in the old regimes before the +first steps in revolution are taken. Puritans in England, Whigs in +America, Third Estate in France, the Kadets and compromisist Socialists +in Russia, all had organizations that demanded their allegiance and +that enabled them to fight the old regime with revolution at least +in the back of their minds. But the process is much more clear, more +sharply edged--except perhaps in America--at the stage we have now +reached. + +Once the first stage in revolution is over, the struggle that arises +between moderates and extremists comes to be a struggle between +two rival governmental machines. That of the moderates, the legal +government, bar inherited some of the prestige that goes with being +established, some of the financial resources--actual or potential--of +the old government, most of its liabilities, all of its institutions. +Try to alter these latter as it may, it finds them annoyingly +persistent, extremely difficult to blot out. The legal government is +unpopular with many just because it is an obvious and responsible +government, because it has to shoulder some of the unpopularity of the +government of the old regime. + +The illegal government of the extremists, however, has to face no +such difficulties. It has the prestige which recent events have given +to attackers, to those who can claim to be in the forefront of the +revolution. It has, as governments go, relatively few responsibilities. +It does not have to try to use, if only temporarily, the worn-out +machinery, the institutions of the old regime. It has, on the +contrary, for the moment the great advantage of using the efficient +machinery gradually constructed by the revolutionists, both moderates +and extremists, from the time when they began under the old regime +to emerge as a pressure group. Indeed, the final capture of this +machinery--or this organization, if you prefer--seems to be what really +determines the final victory of the extremists over the moderates, long +before that final victory is apparent in events. Why the moderates do +not keep control of the organization they have done so much to initiate +and to mold is a question that permits of no simple answer. We may hope +that some answer will emerge from a more detailed study of the fate +of the moderates. We must first, however, see how well the foregoing +analysis fits the facts in our four revolutions. + +Charles and the Long Parliament were clearly dual sovereigns from the +actual outbreak of hostilities in 1642 if not from the very first +session of 1640. Once the Civil War was decided against Charles, +Parliament, under the control of the moderates, found itself the legal +government. But almost immediately it was confronted by the radical New +Model Army, which very soon began to take the kind of action that in +this world only a government can take. The fact that Charles was still +on the scene and the existence of the Scotch Army complicated the +situation in the three or four years before the execution of Charles +in 1649, but the broad lines of the duel between the newly legal +government of the Presbyterian moderates in Parliament and the illegal +government of the extremist Independents in the New Model Army are +clear. + +In America this dual sovereignty is most obvious in the years before +the final break in 1776. The lines between the legal and the illegal +government were obscured, especially in a colony like Massachusetts, +by the fact that town meetings and colonial legislatures were part of +the legal government, but were often controlled by men active in the +illegal government. None the less, the machinery which culminated in +the continental congresses--in themselves illegal bodies--was clearly +used by revolutionists against constituted authority. + +While the moderates in France, the Feuillants, or constitutional +monarchists, still controlled the legislative body and the formal +machinery of the centralized state, their increasingly republican +opponents controlled the network of Jacobin societies which made up +the frame of the other, or illegal, government. Through their control +of these societies they worked into the control of many of the units +of local government, and from this position of vantage were able to +expel the Feuillant moderates and destroy the monarchy. The process was +then repeated with the Girondin moderates controlling the legislative +body and the Montagnard extremists controlling the important units +of the Jacobin network and at least one exceedingly important local +governmental unit--the Paris Commune. In the crisis of June 2, 1793, +the illegal government again won out over the legal. + +In Russia the _dvoevlastie_ is plain. The provisional government which +emerged from the February revolution had through its connection with +the Duma some claim to legitimacy. Though it absorbed more and more +Socialists of various stripes in the next six months, thus exhibiting +the leftward movement we have found in all our societies, it remained +moderate and quite conscious of its legality. On the other side the +Bolsheviks and a few allied radical groups had by late summer obtained +control of the network of soviets and stood as an illegal government +facing the legal one. Soviet means no more than “council” and had +originally in Russia no more connotations than its English equivalent +has for us. The soviets were local councils of trade-unionists, +soldiers, sailors, peasants, and suitable intellectuals. They sprang +up naturally enough with the dissolution of the Czarist power in 1917, +all the more since memories of the abortive revolution of 1905, which +had also made use of the soviet form, were fresh in the minds of +everyone. The Bolsheviks, wisely concentrating on the soviets while the +attention of the compromisists was increasingly taken by participation +in the legal government, were able to wrest control of key soviets in +Petrograd, Moscow, and major industrial towns from the compromisists. +There is here a curious detailed parallel with the French revolution. +The final insurrectionary victory of the Bolsheviks was achieved +without complete control of the general network of soviets, just as +that of the Montagnards was achieved without control of the whole +network of Jacobin clubs. In each case control of the most important +units of the illegal government was sufficient. + + +_IV. Weaknesses of the Moderates_ + +At this stage in revolution, then, the moderates in control of the +formal machinery of government are confronted by the extremists in +control of machinery devised for propaganda, pressure-group work, even +insurrection, but now increasingly used as machinery of government. +This stage ends with the triumph of the extremists and the merging of +the dual sovereignty into a single one. We must now inquire into the +reasons for the failure of the moderates in these revolutions to hold +power. + +There is first the paradox we have previously noted, that in the early +stages of revolution the control of the machinery of government is in +itself a source of weakness for those who hold such control. Little by +little the moderates find themselves losing the credit they had gained +as opponents of the old regime, and taking on more and more of the +discredit innocently associated by the hopeful many with the status +of heir to the old regime. Forced on the defensive, they make mistake +after mistake, partly because they are so little used to being on the +defensive. They are in a position from which only a superhuman wisdom +could extricate them; and the moderates are among the most human of +revolutionaries. + +Faced with the opposition of more radical groups organized in the +network we have called the illegal government, the moderates have +broadly but three choices: they may try to suppress the illegal +government; they may try to get control of it themselves; or they may +let it alone. Actually their policy shifts around among these three +policies, combining one with another; in these circumstances, the net +effect is to produce a fourth policy, which amounts to a positive +encouragement of their enemies in the illegal government. + +In the revolutions we are studying the moderates are particularly +handicapped in their efforts to suppress these enemy organizations. The +revolutions were all made in the name of freedom, were all associated +with what the Marxists call a bourgeois individualistic ideology. The +moderates found themselves obliged to observe certain “rights” of +their enemies--notably those of freedom of speech, of the press, of +assembly. What is more, many if not most of the moderates sincerely +believed in such rights, held that truth is great and will prevail. +Had it not just prevailed against the tyranny of the old regime? +Even when under pressure the moderate begins to try to suppress an +extremist newspaper, forbid an extremist meeting, jail a few extremist +leaders, his conscience troubles him. More important, any unsuppressed +extremists raise a mighty howl. The moderates are betraying the +revolution; they are using exactly the same methods the villainous +tyrants of the old regime had used. + +The Russian revolution is here an excellent example. The Kadets and +compromisists between February and October could not conveniently +suppress Bolshevik propaganda, nor indeed any form of Bolshevik +political activity. When they tried to do so after a premature +Bolshevik rising, the street troubles in Petrograd known as the “July +Days,” they were met by protests from all sorts of people, including +notably the Bolsheviks. This was despotism, this was Czarism of the +worst sort. Had not the February revolution brought political freedom, +freedom of the press and association, to Russia forever? Kerensky +mustn’t make use of the kind of weapons the Czars had used. In 1938 +Stalin of course can use methods worthy of Peter the Great or Ivan the +Terrible, but that is only to say that the Russian revolution is over. +In 1917, however, even had Kerensky been the sort of man who could +successfully organize repressive measures--and he plainly was not that +sort of man--what we are bound to call public opinion would not in +those days have permitted the execution of such measures. Much the same +situation is to be found in France, where the Jacobins were permitted +free speech and free association, and firmly and publicly insisted on +their rights as free men to get ready for a dictatorship. + +Nor are the moderates more successful in their attempts to get--or +rather to retain--control of the machinery which they and the +extremists had jointly built up as a means of overthrowing the old +regime. For this there seems to be no single preponderant reason. +The moderates are, of course, occupied with a good deal of the work +of actual governing, and they have less time for army committees or +Jacobin clubs or soviet meetings. They feel themselves perhaps a trifle +superior to such activity. They are temperamentally unfitted for the +rougher and dirtier work of the politics of direct action. They have +moral scruples. They are not quite the noble souls historical legend +makes out the Girondin moderates in the French revolution to have been; +indeed many of them, like Brissot and Kerensky, have a good many of the +gifts of the political manipulator. But they are in power, and they +seem to set about quite naturally cultivating the sober virtues that +go with power. Such virtues, however, make them inadequate leaders of +militant revolutionary societies. + +Whatever the explanation, the fact of the uniformity is clear. This +particular failure of the moderates is well shown in the French +revolution. The Jacobin network of societies of “Friends of the +Constitution” was in its inception hardly to the Left of Lafayette and +his friends. When, however, it began to move further to the Left the +Fayettists made a few feeble efforts to retain control, and then went +off and founded their own society, the Feuillants. The Feuillants, +however, could not spread beyond narrow upper-class and intellectual +Parisian circles. Later groups founded here and there throughout the +country as “Friends of the Monarchy,” or “Friends of Peace,” tried to +compete with the Jacobins, but with very little luck. If they gave +bread to the poor, the Jacobins cried out that they were attempting +bribery. If they did nothing, the Jacobins complained that they lacked +social conscience. Finally the Jacobins worked out a fairly systematic +procedure. They would hire a few hoodlums--sometimes it was not +necessary to hire them--to break up a meeting of the rival Friends of +Peace, and would then send a deputation to the municipal authorities +asking that the Friends of Peace be closed as a public nuisance. The +authorities were either Jacobins themselves, or more afraid of the +Jacobins than of the Friends of Peace, so that the matter received a +suitable revolutionary solution. + +Similarly the Presbyterians found themselves powerless to control the +spread of Independency, not only in the army, but in local parishes. +And in Russia the compromisists found the Bolsheviks formidable in +all the important soviets. A detailed study of the Petrograd soviet +from February to October will show how cleverly the party of Lenin +took advantage of every mistake of its opponents, how successfully it +burrowed from within, spreading its control from factory soviets on +up until finally the city soviet was captured. Such a study will also +show the compromisists gradually losing ground, in spite of the great +oratorical gifts of leaders like Tseretelli, Chkheidze and Kerensky. + +There is, indeed, an almost organic weakness in the position of the +moderates. They are placed between two groups, the disgruntled but not +yet silenced conservatives and the confident, aggressive extremists. +There are still freedom of speech and the other political rights, so +that even conservatives have a voice. Now the moderates seem in all +these revolutions to be following the slogan used so conspicuously +for French politics of the _Cartel des Gauches_ in 1924: no enemies +to the Left. They still distrust the conservatives, against whom they +have so recently risen; and they are reluctant to admit that the +extremists, with whom they so recently stood united, can actually be +their enemies. All the force of the ideas and sentiments with which the +moderates entered the revolution give them a sort of twist toward the +Left. Emotionally they cannot bear to think of themselves as falling +behind in the revolutionary process. Moreover, many of them hope to +outbid the extremists for popular support, to beat them at their +own game. But only in normal times can you trust in the nice smooth +clichés of politics like “beat them at their own game.” The moderates +fail by this policy of “no enemies to the Left” to reconcile these +enemies to the Left; and they make it quite impossible to rally to +their support any of the not yet quite negligible conservatives. Then, +after the moderates get thoroughly frightened about the threatening +attitude of the extremists, they turn for help to the conservatives, +and find there just aren’t any. They have emigrated, or retired to +the country, hopeless and martyred in spirit. Needless to say, a +martyred conservative is no longer a conservative, but only another +maladjusted soul. This last turn of theirs towards the conservatives, +however, finishes the moderates. Alone, unsupported in control of a +government as yet by no means in assured and habitual control of a +personnel, civil or military, they succumb easily to insurrection. It +is significant that Pride’s Purge, the French crisis of June 2, 1793, +and the Petrograd October revolution were all hardly more than _coups +d’état_. + +In the English, French, and Russian revolutions it is possible to +distinguish one critical measure around which all these currents +converge, a measure which, espoused by the moderates, cuts them off +from support on the Right and leaves the radicals in a position to use +this very measure against its authors. Such are the Root-and-Branch +Bill in the English, the Civil Constitution of the Clergy in the +French, and Order Number One in the Russian, revolutions. + +The Root-and-Branch Bill originated in a petition with 15,000 +signatures presented to the House of Commons late in 1640, asking +for the abolition of Episcopacy “with all its roots and branches.” +Naturally the moderate Episcopalians, from Hyde and Falkland to Digby, +were against a measure which destroyed their Church; and just as +naturally the Presbyterians were inclined to favor it. It is possible +that politically minded moderates like Pym might have left the bill +alone, but the refusal of the bishops to give up their seats in the +House of Lords seems to have determined Pym to support the bill. This +espousal made almost every Episcopalian a Royalist, and when the Civil +War broke out in 1642 the Presbyterians were stranded on the extreme +Right of the party groupings within the region controlled by the +Parliamentarians. They could find no possible allies except to the +Left. The Independents--and Cromwell had first actually introduced the +Root-and-Branch Bill to the House--could now argue that presbyters were +no better than bishops, that the reasons which held for the abolition +of one held incontrovertibly for the abolition of the other. Later, +when the moderates proved incapable of carrying the war to a successful +conclusion, measures like the Self-Denying Ordinance and the creation +of the New Model Army had to be accepted by a Presbyterian majority +which yet was not by any means a commanding majority, and which had +left itself with no possibility of conservative support. + +The Civil Constitution of the Clergy emerged after months of discussion +in the National Assembly as a charter for renewed Christianity in +France. The moderates who put it through seem mostly to have been +sincere men, bad Catholics in some ways, perhaps, but rather because +they had absorbed some of the practical worldly spirit of the age than +because they were outright anti-clericals. Yet their measure alienated +the good Catholics and merely encouraged the violent anti-clericals to +try to root out the “vile superstitions” of Christianity altogether. +The Civil Constitution in all innocence provided for the election +of parish priests by the same local electoral bodies that chose lay +officials for the new government positions, and for the election of +bishops by the same departmental body that elected representatives to +the Legislative Assembly. It scrapped all the historic dioceses of old +France, and substituted nice, nearly uniform dioceses identical with +the new _départements_ into which France was governmentally divided. It +did consent to “notify” the Pope of such elections. + +Since the property of the Church as a corporation had been taken over +to serve as security for the new paper money of the revolution, the +_assignats_, the State was to support the expenses of the clergy under +the new constitution. The election of priests and bishops by bodies +to which Protestants, Jews, and avowed atheists were eligible was so +completely uncanonical that no Pope could for a moment have considered +accepting it. Although there was the usual diplomatic delay, the break +between the Pope and the revolutionary government was inevitable, and +with it the powerful and conservative group of Catholics was forced +irreconcilably into opposition. A schism began which extended to every +village in the land. But the new Constitutional Church was hardly more +acceptable to the real radicals than the old Orthodox Church, and +as the critical days of the Terror drew nearer the moderates found +themselves saddled with the protection of a church which returned them +no important support. + +Order Number One emerged from no such long debate as did the +Root-and-Branch Bill and the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Indeed, +it is not quite fair to list it as a definite measure sponsored +by the moderates, though the soviet leader most prominent in the +group which prepared it was the moderate N. D. Sokolov, and the +compromisists energetically promulgated it. The Order emerged in the +very last days of the February revolution from the headquarters of +the Petrograd soviet. It was addressed to the army, and in addition +to the usual revolutionary measures towards a standing army of the +old regime--abolition of salutes, social and political equality of +privates with officers, and so on--it provided for elected company +and battalion committees which were to have entire charge of arms, +above all of those of officers; and it ordered that every military +unit obey the soviets in political matters. The military committee of +the Duma might be obeyed in military matters, provided the soviet did +not object in a specific case. The Order was devised primarily with +the Petrograd garrison in mind, but its main provisions were rapidly +taken up at the front. This order at once convinced the conservatives +that there was nothing to be hoped for from the revolution, and put +even the more liberal officers in a state of mind to welcome later +attempts at a conservative _coup d’état_. It made the subsequent task +of the moderates in bringing Russia back to military efficiency for +the war on Germany more difficult than ever. And it by no means served +to reconcile the soldiers themselves with the continuation of the war. +Most of the popularity of Order Number One eventually redounded to +the credit of the Bolsheviks; most of its unpopularity came back on +the compromisists. This is the typical fate of the moderates in these +revolutions. + +Again, the moderates are in all our societies confronted sooner or +later with the task of fighting a war; and they prove poor war leaders. +In England the fighting broke out in 1642, and before the first +Civil War was over Cromwell and the Independents had made themselves +indispensable, and were on the threshold of power. Foreign war in +France broke out in the spring of 1792, and a few months later the +monarchy had fallen; the war went very badly in the spring of 1793, and +in June the moderate Girondins, who had on the French side been the +most eager for war, were turned out by the Montagnards. The Russian +revolution was born in the midst of a disastrous war, and the Russian +moderates never had a chance at peaceful administration. The fact is +clear. The moderates cannot seem to succeed in war. The reasons why are +less clear. No doubt the commitment of the moderates to protect the +liberties of the individual is a factor. You cannot organize an army if +you take Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity at all seriously. + +Modern wars seem to carry with them the necessity for organizing +civil government along military lines, for the exercise of strong, +centralized governmental authority in which the liberty of the +individual is far from a matter of first concern, in which there is +very little debate, very little of the government by discussion so +prized by the moderates, very little compromise and moderation. War, +said Madison, is the mother of executive aggrandizement, and even +here in America our wars have borne him out. But in the midst of a +revolution the executive that gets aggrandized is not the moderate +executive. The Reigns of Terror in France and in Russia are in part +explicable as the concentration of power in a government of national +defense made necessary by the fact of war. This is by no means a +complete explanation of the Reigns of Terror. But certainly the +necessity for a strong centralized government to run the war is one of +the reasons why the moderates failed. They simply could not provide the +discipline, the enthusiasm, the unpondered loyalty necessary to fight a +war, and they went out. + + +_V. The Failure of the Moderates_ + +To the kindly souls who for the most part wrote the history from which +we get our notions of modern revolutions, this failure of the moderates +was a great tragedy. The moderates appear as good men worsted by +circumstances and unscrupulous opponents. They seem to be idealists +crushed by a harsh world, but thereby sure of the resurrection history +holds out to the just. The gentle Falkland and the scholarly Condorcet +smile down upon us from the only heaven to which mere mortals hold +the key; and if historians have not yet admitted Kerensky into their +heaven, the reason may be no more than that the poor man is still +inescapably here on earth. + +Perhaps most of the moderates would be better or at least more normal +men than their extremist opponents. Yet, leaders and led together, +they make a motley lot, by no means easily catalogued by Marxist or by +psychologist. And the traditional notion that they were idealists and +that they failed because in the rough give-and-take the idealist must +always fail is here peculiarly misleading. It is more accurate to risk +the paradox: they failed because they were in so many respects what is +usually called realists; that is, some of them were reasonably well +adapted to a common-sense world. + +Pym and Mirabeau, who died peacefully before the defeat of the +moderates was evident, still enjoy reputations as skilled politicians, +as sensible moderates. Over most of the others there hangs something +of the kind of reputation most definite and clear with Kerensky. The +eloquent compromisist leader seems to us a man of words, an orator +who could move crowds but could not guide them, an impractical and +incompetent person in the field of action. The Gironde seems much the +same, as also the lesser Presbyterian leaders like Holles. It seems +emptily paradoxical to list these people as realists. Yet realists +of a kind they were. They used grand words and phrases grandly, as +a consolation and a joy to their listeners and to themselves. But +they did not believe in them as the radicals believed in them; they +did not intend to try to pursue them to their logical conclusions in +action. They were, in short, using words in the way most men in normal +societies, including such realistic politicians as Gladstone, use +them. They would not seem realists to a hard-headed horse-trader. But +within the limits which tradition and ritual have set for the work of +such people as they--part priest, part administrator, part actor, part +teacher--they were good quiet practitioners. + +But the times were turned topsy-turvy, and as the crisis of the +revolution approached, only the man with a touch--or more--of fanatic +idealism in him, or at least with the ability to act the part of such +a fanatic, could attain to leadership. The normal social roles of +realism and idealism are reversed in the acute phases of a revolution. +We shall return to this topic in our next chapter. Here we need only +note that the outward evidences of the approach of this kind of crisis +appear as a heightened form of class antagonism. The moderates by +definition are not great haters, are not endowed with the effective +blindness which keeps men like Robespierre and Lenin undistracted in +their rise to power. In normal times, ordinary men are not capable of +feeling for groups of their fellow-men hatred as intense, continuous, +and uncomfortable as that preached by the extremists in revolution. +Hatred is a heroic emotion, and heroic emotions are exhausting. The +poor may hate the rich, the Protestant the Catholic, the bourgeois the +noble, the Southerner the Yankee, and so on endlessly. But this hate is +normally in human beings a routine and consoling hate, a part of life, +like food, drink, and loving, integrated with an existence as alien to +the possibility of revolution as that of a vegetable. + +The moderates, then, do not really believe in the big words they have +to use. They do not really believe a heavenly perfection is suddenly +coming to men on earth. They are all for compromise, common sense, +toleration, comfort. In a normal society, these desires are part of +their strength and give them their hold over their fellows, who share +at least their desire for comfort. But in these three revolutions large +numbers of men were for the moment lifted by desire and emotion to a +point where they seemed to despise even comfort. The moderates could +not deal politically with such men; they could not take the first steps +which are necessary if such men are to be understood. The moderates +were cut off from the immoderates by a gap neither philosophy nor +common sense could fill. There is an adage that in the kingdom of the +blind the one-eyed man is king. In one of his subtler short stories, +_The Kingdom of the Blind_, Mr. H. G. Wells has exposed the weakness +of this apothegm. In the heat of a violent revolution, its weakness is +perhaps even more apparent than in the imaginary Andean valley of Mr. +Wells’s tale. The moderates we have been dealing with were all very +human and very fallible; but even had they been as wise as the heroes +of Plutarch, as wise as Washington, it would seem that they must have +failed. For we are here in a land fabulous, but real, where the wisdom +and common sense of the moderate are not wisdom and common sense, but +folly. + + + + +_Chapter_ SIX THE ACCESSION OF THE EXTREMISTS + + +_I. The_ Coup d’état + +The struggle between the moderates and the extremists, which begins +almost as soon as the dramatic overthrow of the old regime is effected, +is marked by a series of exciting episodes: here street-fighting, +there a forced seizure of property, almost everywhere heated debates, +attempted repressions, a steady stream of violent propaganda. Tempers +are strained to the breaking point over matters that in a stable +society are capable of an almost automatic solution. There is an almost +universal state of tension. The fever is working its way to a crisis. +As with many fevers, its progress is in detail jerky, with now an +apparent improvement and then a sudden jump ahead. But the cumulative +effect is unmistakable. With the final overthrow of the moderates the +revolution may be said to have entered its crisis stage. + +Before we attempt to describe the behavior of men in societies in such +a crisis, we shall have to go a bit further into the process by which +the extremists acceded to power. In a sense, such an analysis will be +but pointing out in reverse what we have already said of the moderates: +the reasons why the extremists succeeded are but the other side of +the reasons why the moderates failed. Where the moderates were weak, +the extremists were strong. The actual steps by which the extremists +rise to power are, however, too important to be left with this general +statement. We must parallel our analysis of moderate weaknesses with an +analysis of extremist strengths. + +The extremists win out because they secure control of the illegal +government and turn it in a decisive _coup d’état_ against the legal +government. The problem of the dual sovereignty is solved by the +revolutionary acts in which the Independents, the Jacobins, and the +Bolsheviks seized power. But the moderates had once shared with them +the control of the organizations which they had turned against the +government. The key to the success of the extremists lies in their +monopoly of these organizations--New Model Army and Independent +churches, Jacobin clubs, and soviets. + +They obtain this monopoly by ousting, usually in a series of conflicts, +any and all opponents from these organizations. The discipline, +single-mindedness, and centralization of authority which mark the +rule of the triumphant extremists are first developed and brought to +perfection in the revolutionary groups. The characteristics which were +formed in the growth of the illegal government remain those of the +radicals after the illegal government becomes the legal. Indeed, many +of these useful characteristics were first molded even further back +in the days of the old regime, when the extremists were very small +concentrated groups subject to the full “tyranny” of the government. +The Independents gained discipline and devotion from a long series of +persecutions which began under Elizabeth, whose famed love of tolerance +was not extended to Catholics or Brownists. The French radicals were +not as badly treated under the old regime as their descendants and +historians like to think, but the censorship, the Bastille, and +the _lettres de cachet_ were real enough, even if they rarely fell +to the lot of the rank and file of the enlightened. As for Russia, +its extremists were molded in the most melodramatic traditions of +oppression, were backed by almost a century of secret organization, +plotting, oaths, and martyrdom. + +What emerges from this longer past and from the recent conflict with +the moderates is a fighting group with the newly acquired habit of +winning. You cannot say exactly why a given football team succeeds in +winning most of the time, let alone why an army or a revolutionary +party wins. The variables are so many even in the simplest case that no +sensible man would make predictions based wholly on the most apparent +and perhaps most important variable of all--the quality of the human +material. Gamblers know this, if historians and sociologists do not. +That our revolutionists were successful and admirably organized groups +we know, and we can make some attempt to point out in what ways they +succeeded, what particular kinds of strength they exhibited. We cannot +give any neat formula for success in building a revolutionary group, +cannot measure exactly why _these_ revolutionists succeeded and others +failed. + + +_II. Organization of the Extremists_ + +The first thing likely to strike an observer of the successful +extremists in the English, French, and Russian revolutions, and +indeed, the not quite so radical patriots who put through the American +revolution, is their fewness in numbers. The membership of the formal +organizations which did the work of beating the moderates was never +more than a small minority of the total population. Their active +membership was of course always smaller than the membership on the +books. It is not easy to get exact figures, whether for membership or +for populations, but the following figures are not erroneous enough +to be misleading. The New Model Army was created at a membership of +22,000, and was not more than 40,000 in its most obstreperous days. The +population of England was somewhere between three and five millions. +The Jacobins at the most generous estimate numbered in their struggle +with the moderates about 500,000. The population of France was probably +over rather than under twenty millions. The Communist party in Russia +has always prided itself on its numerical smallness; this is no +unwieldy bourgeois party, full of indifferent members who cast a lazy +vote, or don’t even vote at all. Figures again are uncertain, but it +seems likely that at no time during the revolution did the Communist +party number even 1 per cent of a population of well over one hundred +million. In America the difficulty of even approximate figures is +greater, since the patriots were not organized into a single body. It +is clearly not fair to take the relatively small continental armies +as exactly measuring the strength of the patriot--or Whig--group. +Nevertheless, the best authorities are agreed that if you count out +avowed Tories and the very numerous indifferent or neutral, the +group which actively engineered, supported, and fought the American +revolution is a minority, probably not more than 10 per cent of the +population. + +It is easy to remark that though the facts clearly show that these +revolutionary groups are very small minorities indeed, all politically +active groups are minorities, and that in these revolutions the +radicals in some way “represented” or “carried out” what the soul, +will, genius, of their nations demanded. This may well be so in terms +familiar to the metaphysician, but the relation involved is one which +at present we cannot pretend to be able to study by the methods we +have laid down in this book. Perhaps the Jacobins were the agents +of the general will of the French people; but the general will is a +metaphysical concept the relation of which with tangible Jacobins we +cannot possibly measure here. + +Trotsky in one of his less realistic moods has a fine time reconciling +the fewness of the Bolsheviks in 1917 with the largeness of Russia, +and with the various groups clearly hostile to the Bolsheviks. “The +Bolsheviks,” he writes, “took the people as preceding history had +created them, and as they were called to achieve the Revolution. +The Bolsheviks saw it as their mission to stand at the head of this +people. _Those against the insurrection were ‘everybody’--except +the Bolsheviks. But the Bolsheviks were the people._” Here again +“everybody” in quotation marks is obviously different from everybody +without quotation marks; and though we can as scientists, perhaps, make +use of everybody, we can do nothing at all with “everybody.” + +We can, however, say that in all our societies these radicals were very +conscious, and usually very proud, of their small numbers. They felt +definitely set off from their countrymen, consecrated to a cause which +their countrymen were certainly not consciously and actively equal to. +Some of the radicals may have satisfied themselves that they really +represented the better selves of their fellow-countrymen, that they +were the reality of which the others were the potentiality. But here +and now they were very sure that they were superior to the inert and +flabby many. The English saints of the seventeenth century, the elect +of a God more exclusive than any poor worldly king, made no attempt to +conceal their contempt for the damned masses--and dukes and earls were +of course masses for these determined Puritans. The Jacobins inherited +from the Enlightenment a belief in the natural goodness or the natural +reasonableness of the common man, and this belief put a limit to +their expressed scorn for their fellows. But the scorn is there, and +the Jacobin was almost as loftily consecrated as was the Independent. +The Bolsheviks were brought up to believe that dialectical materialism +works through an elite of the laboring classes, and that the peasants +in particular were incapable of working out their own salvation. The +Bolsheviks therefore took their fewness naturally enough, and their +superiority as well. + +There is also a good deal of evidence that as the revolutions go on, +a very large number of people just drop out of active politics, make +no attempt to register their votes. Now it may be that most of these +people again are at heart in sympathy with the active radicals; but +on the whole it looks as if most of them were cowed conservatives or +moderates, men and women not anxious for martyrdom, but quite incapable +of the mental and moral as well as physical strain of being a devoted +extremist in the crisis of a revolution. We have very clear evidence of +this dropping out of the ordinary man in two of our revolutions, and we +may assume that it is one of the uniformities we are seeking. + +In Russia, the February revolution brought in universal suffrage as +a matter of course. Russia had at last caught up with the West. At +the first elections almost everybody, men and women alike, took the +opportunity to vote in various local elections. But very shortly +there set in a noticeable decline in the total number of votes cast. +In the June, 1917, elections for the Moscow district dumas the +Social-Revolutionary groups received 58 per cent of the votes; in +the September elections the Bolsheviks received 52 per cent. A clear +gain for the Bolsheviks by democratic methods? Not at all. In June +the Social-Revolutionaries got 375,000 votes out of 647,000 cast; in +September the Bolsheviks got 198,000 out of 381,000 cast. In three +months half the electorate dropped out. Trotsky himself has a simple +explanation for this; “many small-town people who, in the vapor of +the first illusions, had joined the Compromisers fell back soon after +into political non-existence.” The same story is graphically recorded +in French municipal and national elections between the rosy days of +1789, when everyone who could stagger to the polls voted, and 1793, +when in some cases less than a tenth of the qualified voters actually +voted. They did not vote for Bolsheviks or Jacobins, and it seems more +than likely that if most Englishmen could have voted at all in 1648, +they would not have voted for Independents, Levellers, Diggers, Fifth +Monarchy Men, or Millenarians. The great numbers of qualified voters +just don’t vote; in Trotsky’s compact phrase, they are politically +non-existent. + +Their political non-existence is not achieved without a good deal of +help from the extremists. The elections are supposedly free and open, +but the extremists are not hindered by any beliefs in freedom they +may have expressed in other days. They soon take to steps familiar in +this country through the history of groups like the Ku Klux Klan and +Tammany Hall. They beat up well-known aristocrats and such-like class +enemies, they start riots at polling places or in electoral assemblies, +they break windows and start street fights, they howl down moderate +candidates, they bring to bear good journalists, skilled at libel +and innuendo, and in a hundred ways which any realistic student of +politics can uncover with a little study, they make it very difficult +for ordinary, peaceful, humdrum men and women to go to the polls and +cast their votes for the moderates to whom ordinary, peaceful, humdrum +men and women seem attracted. Not that terrorism alone scares off the +ordinary man. Mere laziness, an inability to give to political affairs +the ceaseless attention revolutions demand, is also instrumental in +keeping the man in the street from expressing himself. He gets fed up +with the constant meetings, the deputations, the papers, the elections +of dog-catchers, general inspectors, presidents, the committees, the +rituals, the ceaseless moil and toil of self-government on a more than +Athenian basis. At any rate he quits, and the extremists have the field +to themselves. + +Their fewness is indeed one of the great sources of the extremists’ +strength. Great numbers are almost as unwieldy in politics as on +the battlefield. In the politics of revolutions what counts is the +ability to move swiftly, to make clear and final decisions, to push +through to a goal without regard for injured human dispositions. For +such a purpose the active political group must be small. You cannot +otherwise obtain the single-mindedness and devotion, the energy and +the discipline, necessary to defeat the moderates. You cannot in large +numbers maintain the fever of fanaticism long enough to secure the +ultimate victory. The masses do not make revolutions. They may be +enlisted for some impressive pageantry once the active few have won +the revolution. Our contemporary revolutions, both of the Right and +the Left, have achieved apparent miracles of mass participation. But +the impressive demonstrations the camera records in Germany and Russia +ought not to deceive the careful student of politics. Neither Bolshevik +nor Nazi victory over the moderates was achieved by the participation +of the many; both were achieved by small, disciplined, principled, +fanatical bodies. + +Nor at this stage of revolution do the victorious radicals make use of +the plebiscite. They do not dare risk anything like a free election. +Only later, when the crisis is followed by a convalescence, by a return +to normal ways, does the plebiscite stage arrive. This interval may +not be a very long one, and in the case of Rightist revolutions may be +very brief, since the full fury of the Ideal rarely inspires the men +of the Right. But certainly for the revolutions we are here studying, +the generalization holds: the plebiscite is absent from the struggle +between extremists and moderates, and is not used by the extremists +even after their accession to power. + +The extremists are not only few; they are fanatically devoted to their +cause. Their awareness of being few seems correlated with the intensity +of their fanaticism. One feeds upon and strengthens the other. With +their objects, with the content of their dreams of a better world, we +shall concern ourselves later. For those who think that only in the +service of a personal God can feelings properly defined as “fanatical” +be aroused, our application of the word to Jacobins and Bolsheviks may +seem illegitimate. But this is surely an undue narrowing of a clear +and useful word. Bolsheviks and Jacobins were as convinced as any +Calvinist that they alone were right, that what they proposed was the +only possible course. All of our revolutionary radicals displayed a +willingness to work hard, to sacrifice their peace and security, to +submit to discipline, to submerge their personalities in the group. +They were all aware of the spiritual difficulties of keeping “always +at the height of revolutionary circumstances,” as the Jacobins used to +put it; but to a surprising extent they overcame these difficulties and +maintained on this earth an _esprit de corps_, an active moral union, +that is far beyond the powers of ordinary men in ordinary circumstances +to attain and to maintain. + +And they are disciplined. Partly, as we have explained, this is an +inheritance from their oppressed past. It correlates with their fewness +and with their fanatical strength. The New Model Army is an excellent +example. It defeated the haphazard aggregations which the ordinary +recruiting methods of the Royalists opposed to it; it defeated the +cream of the opposing forces, the cavalry recruited from faithful +country gentlemen and their dependents. The New Model was recruited +from ardent Puritans, vouched for by men who knew them; and it was +submitted to a brief but effective course of training incomparably more +severe than any that had yet been used in English military history. +The result was a fine army--and a compact body of hard revolutionists +who could cut through the best intentions and the best rhetoric of the +moderates. The discipline of the Jacobins was not military, but it +was very rigorous, and indeed resembled the kind of discipline which +a militant religious body imposes on its members. The Jacobins were +always scrutinizing their own membership, submitting to the ordeal of +an _épuration_, literally a “purification,” perhaps in contemporary +terms a “purge.” The slightest deviation from the established order of +the day might bring a warning and possible expulsion. With the Spartan +ways of the Russian Communist party in the early days of the soviet +state most of us are familiar; it is a point on which all reporters, +kindly and unkindly, are agreed. + +The extremists put their disciplined skill into the realization of +the revolutionary ends. There has been worked out in the last few +hundred years an elaborate technique of revolutionary action, of which +the Russian Communists were the latest heirs. A good deal has been +written about this technique, which is in part simply the technique of +any successful pressure group: propaganda, electioneering, lobbying, +parading, street-fighting, delegation-making, direct pressure on +magistrates, sporadic terrorism of the tar-and-feather or castor-oil +variety. Jacobins, Communists, and Sons of Liberty did a notably good +job at this sort of thing. But it is rather surprising to note how many +of these techniques can be found in England, and especially in London, +as early as the seventeenth century. In this respect, as in many +others, the English revolution is clearly of a modern type. Here is a +bit that might have come from the French revolution: during the debate +on the Militia Order, a crowd of apprentices “came into the House of +Commons and kept the door open, and their hats on ... and called out +as they stood ‘Vote, vote,’ and in this arrogant posture stood until +the votes passed.” One suspects that these apprentices did not march in +spontaneously. This is the kind of thing that takes organization. + +Finally, the extremists follow their leaders with a devotion and a +unanimity not to be found among the moderates. Theories of democratic +equality, which crop up at the start of all our revolutions, prove no +obstacle to the development among the extremists of something very +like the “Führer” principle we associate with Fascist movements. +Here it is the moderates who live up to their theories, and in the +early stages of the revolutions it is not uncommon to find complaints +that So-and-so is arrogating to himself powers no good man would +want to possess. Mirabeau and Kerensky, to take neat examples, +were accused by moderates and extremists alike of aiming at a +personal dictatorship. Yet Robespierre and Lenin followed in their +footsteps--almost literally--and this time only the cheering could +be heard. This magnifying of the principle of leadership runs right +through the organization, from the subalterns up to the great national +heroes--Cromwell, Robespierre, Lenin. + +On the whole, this leadership is effective, and especially so at the +very top. Now if they are seen as full and rounded human beings, there +are unquestionably differences among the men who make up the general +staffs of the extremists. The psychologist and the novelist--indeed +the historian as well--could not lump them all together. Yet they have +in common one aspect which is of great importance to the sociologist; +they combine, in varying degrees, very high ideals and a complete +contempt for the inhibitions and principles which serve most other men +as ideals. They present a strange variant of Plato’s pleasant scheme: +they are not philosopher-kings but philosopher-killers. They have the +realistic, the practical touch very few of the moderate leaders had, +and yet they have also enough of the prophet’s fire to hold followers +who expect the New Jerusalem around the next corner. They are practical +men unfettered by common sense, Machiavellians in the service of the +Beautiful and the Good. + +A bit from Lenin will make the point clear. At a secret meeting of +the Central Committee of the Bolshevik party just before the October +revolution, Lenin was urging insurrection on the more tender-minded +of his colleagues, who thought that the Bolsheviks ought to respect +the will of the majority of Russians, which was clearly against them. +“We are inclined to consider the systematic preparation of an uprising +as something in the nature of a political sin,” said he. “To wait +until the Constituent Assembly, which will clearly not be with us, is +senseless.” There is the practical Lenin, unworried by a democratic +dogma that stands in his way. After the October revolution he writes +in _Pravda_ of “the crisis which has arisen as a result of the lack of +correspondence between the elections to the Constituent Assembly and +the will of the people and the interests of the toiling and exploited +classes.” Here the will of the people is somehow at bottom the will +of the minority party of Bolsheviks. We are back again in the midst +of democratic dogma. Parallel cases could readily be drawn from +Robespierre, Cromwell, and even, one fears, from Jefferson. + +Hypocrisy? To those of little imagination or experience of the world, +such acts must always seem hypocritical. But, on a less heroic scale, +they are far too much a part of normal human action to deserve so +opprobrious a label. The Robespierre who, as an enlightened young +man, had held capital punishment wrong did not hypocritically send +his enemies to the guillotine. He had convinced himself that his +enemies were scarcely men at all; they were sinners, corrupt souls, +agents of a worse-than-Satan, and their removal from this earth +wasn’t really capital punishment in the conventional sense at all. +You could still treat ordinary criminals in full accord with the most +humanitarian principles of jurisprudence. Most of us make this sort +of compromise with ourselves often enough in daily life. But with us +comfort, convenience, habit, even common sense, determine the limits +of compromise. For the revolutionary extremist such limits are off; in +the delirium, in the crisis, there is an extraordinary reversal of the +roles played in normal times by the real and the ideal. Here briefly +and at last the blind--or the seer--is king; plain earthly seeing, the +kind that concerns the oculist, is for once of very little use. The +seers have just enough of it to keep their positions of leadership. +Cromwell, indeed, had a good deal of what seems an English sense of the +contingent, and Lenin was certainly no academic idealist. Robespierre +is in some ways the most unadulterated seer of the lot. + +Yet all of them, including even Robespierre, were what the world calls +men of action. They could and did get things done, were administrators +and executives, ran organizations for which tradition and routine had +not yet been able to build up much that worked automatically. If they +have left behind them a reputation for unusual ruthlessness, this may +be in part a reflection of the ill repute terrorism has for most of +us. And the ruthlessness, in the proper service of the ideal, went +while they were alive into the making of their leadership. Cromwell +gained credit among the Saints for his Irish massacres. The guillotine +in France was for a few months the “holy guillotine.” Trotsky, early +in his famous rallying of the Bolshevik troops in the Civil War, +ordered shot the commander, commissar, and one soldier out of ten in a +Petrograd workers’ regiment that had fled the enemy, and to the dismay +of gentler colleagues showed no hesitation about continuing the policy +of discipline through bloodshed. Trotsky became briefly a savior and a +hero. We are a long way from Order Number One! + +For most men, there is a gap between their deeds and their professions, +between what they are and what they would like to be, between what +they are and what they think they are. Normally, however, they manage +to keep the gap small enough, or turn their attention away from one +side of it or the other, so that they are not unduly troubled by it. +For the leaders of the extremists in times of revolution the gap +looks to an outside observer enormous, bigger than it ever is in +normal times. A few men, like Fouché, seem to have been terrorists to +save their own skins. But, in general, only a sincere extremist in a +revolution can kill men because he loves man, attain peace through +violence, and free men by enslaving them. Such contrasts in action +would paralyze a conventionally practical leader, but the extremist +seems quite undisturbed by it. Where the ordinary man would be troubled +by something like a split personality, where his conscience or his +sense of reality, or both, would be haunted, the extremist goes boldly +ahead. Wide though the gap between the real and the ideal is in the +crisis period, he can cross it at his own convenience. He has, for the +moment, the best of both worlds. He can manipulate with equal skill the +concrete and complex human beings on committees, deputations, bureaus, +ministries, all the unsettling problems of administration, and yet use +gracefully and convincingly the abstract, indispensable, haunting words +which have in revolutions such magic power over large groups of men. + +It is this last gift that seems to lie all but wholly beyond the +capacity of the most ambitious hypocrite. The great leaders of the +Terrors are fitted for their task by a genuine vocation, a vocation +which in ordinary times would exclude them from political power. Their +belief in the Absolute is not assumed, and is as real as their ability +to handle the contingent. And for once the Absolute is practical +politics. F. W. Maitland has a passage, suggested by Coleridge, +which puts the point neatly: “Coleridge has remarked how, in times +of great political excitement, the terms in which political theories +are expressed become, not more and more practical, but more and more +abstract and impractical. It is in such times that men clothe their +theories in universal terms.... The absolute spirit is abroad. Relative +or partial good seems a poor ideal. It is not of these, or those men +that we speak, of this nation or that age, but of Man.” + + +_III. Fitness of the Extremists_ + +The transition from opposition to power is not a sudden one for +the extremists. The whole point about the _dvoevlastie_, the dual +sovereignty, is that it is not a struggle between government and +opposition, between ins and outs, but between two governments within +the same state. Under the old regime perhaps no more than a pressure +group, the revolutionists’ organization gradually takes over, in the +confusion of the first stages of actual revolution, governmental powers +which are never thereafter wholly subordinated to the provisional +government, the almost legal heir of the old regime. The process is +especially clear in Russia, though it is substantially uniform in all +our revolutions. + +Practically all the soviets, even in the market towns, did +administrative work from the very beginning. Trotsky, here in his +role of historian, gives some good succinct examples: “The soviet +in Saratov was compelled to interfere in economic conflicts, to +arrest manufacturers, confiscate the tramway belonging to Belgians, +introduce workers’ control, and organize production in the abandoned +factories.... In the Urals the soviets frequently instituted courts +of justice for the trial of citizens, created their own militia +in several factories, paying for its equipment out of the factory +cash-box, organized a workers’ inspection which assembled raw materials +and fuel for the factories, superintended the sale of manufactured +goods and established a wage-scale. In certain districts of the Urals, +the soviets took the land from the landlords and put it under social +cultivation.” Obviously, in parts of Russia the slogan “All power to +the Soviets” had become a bit superfluous even before the October +revolution. + +In France the “Societies of Friends of the Constitution,” at their +formation in 1789 hardly more than pressure groups, or possibly French +variants of the Yankee caucus, had by June 2, 1793, taken over a good +many functions normally carried out by governmental bodies. When +the “constituted authorities,” as the Jacobins respectfully called +governing councils and legislatures, failed to do what the Jacobins +wanted, the Jacobins went ahead and did it themselves. Notably the +whole repressive legislation on the non-juring (Catholic) clergy was +anticipated in practice by the Jacobin clubs in the provinces. The +clubs were organized like parliamentary bodies, with elaborate rules +on debating, with committees, officers, minutes, and indeed all the +apparatus of a proper legislature. Sometimes a club would overawe or +persuade municipal or departmental officers into an approved Jacobin +policy; sometimes, failing in this, a club would almost openly pass +laws and decrees. Those of the members who protested against this +shocking interference with authorities chosen by popular election--and +many did protest on just such grounds--were thereby ticketed as +moderates, and were lucky if they avoided the guillotine later. + +That the men who made the American revolution were by no means +unexercised in the art of actual governing has long been a commonplace +of proud Anglo-Saxon writers on both sides of the Atlantic. What we +must note here is that that preparation had by no means been wholly +of the conventional legal sort. Not only in town meeting and colonial +legislatures, but in caucuses, committees, and congresses that bear a +close parallel with soviets and Jacobin clubs, the American radicals +were schooled to take over the government from the agents of the Crown. +We shall see in the next chapter that they did not hesitate to use +terroristic means to preserve, as they had used to attain, that power. + +In England the situation is complicated by the fact that though the +illegal organization headed up in the New Model Army, the various +Independent congregations were also in their way agents of the +extremists in their drive to power. The army itself, of course, +began very soon after Naseby to interfere in politics in a way no +conventional army does; and the first expulsion of Presbyterians from +Parliament was initiated and carried through by army resolutions and an +army committee. But the Independents, and especially the Independent +clergy, had much earlier taken a hand in matters very terrestrial +indeed. As Professor Grierson has said, “It is not what Laud did that +Baxter [a Puritan divine] seems to complain of, so much as what he +would not allow them, the parish pastors, to do, viz., to exercise +a moral discipline co-extensive with the parish.” And by a moral +discipline a Puritan meant something co-extensive with the whole of +human life. + +The extremists are not, then, politically innocent or inexperienced; +they have had a long experience of oppression, and a briefer, but very +intensive, training in actual government before they come to full +power. To call either leaders or rank and file inexperienced, “pure +theorists,” and “metaphysicians,” as has long been the habit especially +among political writers in English, is misleading. Neither their aims +nor their methods are those that good Victorians like Bagehot or Maine +could approve or sympathize with. They are certainly heaven-storming +idealists, scornful of compromise. But they are not academic theorists +totally unadapted to action. _On the contrary, they are admirably +adapted, almost in the sense a biologist gives to adaptation, to the +special, the unique environment of the crisis._ That is why they +succeed. + +The actual overthrow of the moderates is usually a very neat job, an +excellent example of the skill of the revolutionary leaders and the +close adaptation of the revolutionary organizations to their functions. +It is, as we have seen, by no means a great popular uprising. The +crowds whose confused milling about makes an exact account of the +taking of the Bastille or the February revolution in Petrograd +impossible for the historian, do not interfere with the professional +dispatch with which Pride’s Purge, the purge of the Girondins, and the +October revolution were put through. In France the extremists reached +power in two of these _coups d’état_. The first, the overthrow of +the monarchy on August 10, 1792, was achieved through an elaborate +but never confused collaboration of various organs of the illegal +government--Jacobin and other political clubs, the _fédérés_, local +militia from all over France assembled in Paris to celebrate the +anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, and the ward organizations +out of which the revolutionary Parisian Commune was made. Almost the +same elements were integrated ten months later for the easier task of +bullying the Convention into giving up the Girondins. Danton, Marat, +possibly Robespierre, and certainly a number of less famous but very +skilled secondary leaders formed a general staff which engineered both +of these coups. + +The October revolution was elaborately prepared, and has been clearly +described in Trotsky’s own _History of the Russian Revolution_. We +need not here go into details of this preparation. But a quotation +from Trotsky will show how the details were taken care of: “The +typographical workers, through their union, called to the attention +of the Committee [the Military-Revolution Committee in Petrograd, the +general staff of the October revolution] an increase in Black Hundred +leaflets and brochures. It was decided that in all suspicious cases the +printers’ union should come for instructions to the Military-Revolution +Committee. This control was the most effective of all possible forms +of control over the printed agitation of the counter-revolution.” +Naturally; printed agitation has to have printers as well as legal +freedom of the press. In a dozen such ways the moderates were hamstrung +in the last few days before the Bolshevik insurrection. There was no +nonsense about a general strike; there was simply a co-ordinated series +of seizures of centers of power, press, post and telegraph, banks, and +ministries. + +The dramatic seizure of Charles I by Cornet Joyce on June 3, 1647, at +Holmby House is perhaps the first assumption of sovereign power by the +New Model. When Charles asked Joyce whence he had his commission to +remove him, Joyce is said to have replied, pointing to his soldiers +drawn up on the lawn, “There is my commission.” The reply will serve +in all our revolutions. Once the extremists are in power, there is +no more finicky regard for the liberties of the individual or for the +forms of legality. The extremists, after clamoring for liberty and +toleration while they were in opposition, turn very authoritarian +when they reach power. There is no need for us to sigh over this, or +grow indignant, or talk of hypocrisy. We are attempting to discern +uniformities in the behavior of men during certain revolutions in +specific social systems, and this seems to be one of the uniformities. + +“It was but a bare six months,” writes Gardiner, “since the Independent +leaders [Cromwell and Vane] who now permitted some hundreds of +sufferers to be excluded for conscience’s sake from the University of +Oxford, had been striving to lay the foundations of a broad system of +toleration in _The Heads of the Proposals_ and had even taken into +consideration a scheme for extending that toleration to the Roman +Catholic priesthood itself.” Later under the Rump a strict censorship +of the press was instituted, and the various canons and tastes of +Puritanism enforced as far as possible by government policy. Similarly +in France and Russia the new government clamped down at once on its +enemies and began to build up the machinery of the coming Terror. +Where, as in France and Russia, the army had lost its discipline +under active attempts to introduce Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, +discipline was reintroduced with a good deal of firmness. Mr. +Chamberlin describes the Russian situation: “The Bolshevik military +authorities now began to talk about the harmful and disruptive +influence of army committees very much as Kornilov, Denikin, and the +old army officers had spoken in 1917; and strict obedience to the +orders of the officers gradually became embedded in the discipline of +the Red Army.” + +_The Heads of Proposals_ and _The Agreement of the People_, radical +platforms adopted by the army under Leveller influence, had proposed +something very close to what came to be conventional nineteenth-century +democracy--equal electoral districts, frequent parliaments, specific +limitations on the executive power, even universal manhood suffrage. +Cromwell seems never to have been in any sense a doctrinaire rebel, +and indeed probably had many of the sentiments about authority and +tradition one would expect from a country gentleman. If he suffered at +all in mind about the situation, it was probably because the good old +parliamentary institutions could not be restored. Certainly the last +thing that could be done was to hold an open and free election on any +conceivable franchise. The so-called Parliament of Saints which met in +1653 after the dissolution of the Rump was hardly more than a council +sent up from trustworthy Independent groups and chosen by caucus +methods. + +Similarly in France, the victors of June 2nd did not dare go to the +people. As a gesture they promulgated the so-called Constitution of +1793, based on universal suffrage, bill of rights, and the rest of the +paraphernalia of democracy, but they took good care to go no further +than printing it. It was never put into effect. + +The Bolsheviks had for months attacked the Provisional government +for not calling a constituent assembly. Such an assembly was finally +chosen by universal suffrage just before the Bolshevik _coup_. In it +the Bolsheviks were in a minority. Lenin dissolved this constituent +assembly in January, 1918, with a light heart, but many of his +followers, in spite of their Marxist training, were really hurt by such +a defiance of democratic sentiments and traditions. Many good Jacobins +were also worried by the fact of their new dictatorship. + +Theory came to provide a salve to wounded consciences. The theory of +revolutionary dictatorship is very nearly identical in all three of +our revolutions. Liberty for everyone, liberty full, free, and fair, +is of course the ultimate goal. But such liberty at present would +mean that men corrupted by the bad old ways would be able to realize +their wicked plans, restore the bad old institutions, and frustrate +the good men. On reflection, the extremist continues, it is clear +that we must distinguish between liberty for those who deserve it, +and liberty for those who don’t, which latter is, of course, false +liberty, pseudo-liberty, license or anarchy. God had given liberty to +the Saints--true liberty, which is obedience to Him--but he clearly +did not give liberty to sinners. You repress papists as you would +repress devils. To argue that such sinners ought to be left alone +would have seemed to seventeenth-century English Puritans as absurd +as it would to us to suggest that yellow-fever-bearing mosquitoes be +left alone. Robespierre himself phrased it with classic neatness: the +revolutionary government, he said, was the despotism of liberty against +tyranny. For Marx, the dictatorship of the proletariat is a necessary +transitional stage, in which the last vestiges of capitalistic methods +and capitalistic mentality are wiped out. Ruthless use of force will be +necessary in this period--unfortunately of indeterminate length. Once a +capitalist, always a capitalist, apparently. But when men are finally +brothers, then the freedom of the classless society will finally begin. + +Solaced by the knowledge that they are serving Liberty--in the high, +true sense of the word--by a rigorous application of what to the +unbeliever seems tyranny, the extremists go ahead to consolidate their +power through institutions. Before we attempt a brief, generalized +description of these institutions, we may note another uniformity. With +the triumph of the extremists as we have defined them, the process of +transfer of power from Right to Left ceases. The extremists are not +indeed exempt from the difficulty other triumphant groups had faced +from the very beginning of the revolutionary process. They develop +internal conflicts, tend to split up into groups too hostile among +themselves for co-operation. But these groups cannot be neatly ranged +from Right to Left; and their dissension is ended quickly and without +even the turmoil and confusion of a _coup d’état_. The dissensions +have by now become so subtly doctrinal, so remote from the masses of +the population, that they can be centered on a few leaders. And they +are settled by the banishment or “judicial murder”--as it seems to +the defeated partisans--of some of these leaders. What began with +large-scale popular uprisings has now come to the dramatic intimacy of +a courtroom. + +France is here the clearest case. The victorious Montagnards of June +2nd divided into three major factions, that of which Robespierre +stands as the head, that of Danton, and that of Hébert. There were, +of course, sub-factions, wheels within wheels, and had Marat not been +assassinated in the summer of 1793, there might have been still further +complications. Robespierre, eventually victorious, rationalized the +situation as a conflict between the true revolutionaries on one hand +and the Ultra-revolutionaries (Hébert) and the Citra-revolutionaries +(Danton) on the other. He was, to himself, the golden and virtuous mean +between proletarian vice and bourgeois corruption. The actual situation +is almost unbelievably complicated, and only the narrative historian +with plenty of space to command can disentangle it. Both Dantonists +and Hébertists, “traitors” and “anarchists,” were condemned before the +Revolutionary Tribunal, and went to the guillotine in two large and +rather miscellaneous batches. For the next few months, the “faction of +Robespierre” was in complete control of France. + +The victorious Independents in England in 1649 found themselves facing +an astonishing variety of sects which had been carried along to triumph +in the general good work for the cause of complete toleration of all +Dissenters. We shall in a moment have a word to say about the doctrinal +aspect of these groups. Meantime we may note that not only did +Cromwell continue to keep down papists, prelatists, and Presbyterians, +but he and his officers saw to it that Fifth Monarchy Men, Diggers, +Levellers, Millenarians, Quakers, and the rest were not allowed to try +out their wilder schemes in practice. The Diggers could dig no more +in this earth. The old tactics of “no enemy to the Left,” which had +held ever since the beginning of the revolution, were now definitely +abandoned. As Professor Trevelyan has written, “All revolutionists, +the moment they undertake the actual responsibilities, become in some +sort conservatives. Robespierre guillotined the Anarchists. The first +administrative act of the [English] Regicides was to silence the +Levellers.” There are, then, if you like, those more extreme than the +group we have called the extremists. But such men are of the lunatic +fringe. They are the impractical people erroneously thought by some +conservatives to be typical revolutionists. They definitely do not +attain power. + +The Russian situation is still somewhat obscured in respect to the +opposition to official Bolshevism after October, 1917, and this +obscurity seems in some ways thicker than ever today. Nevertheless it +is clear that even while Lenin was alive, and especially in the year +or so after the October revolution, there were a good many stresses +and strains within the Bolshevik party, and that Lenin and his +followers suppressed opposing groups even when they claimed to be more +“revolutionary” than the Leninists. Thanks to the excellent discipline +of the Bolshevik party and to the particularly pressing nature of the +war against the Whites and the Allies, these quarrels were not as +public as they had been in England and in France. The recent Moscow +trials seem to belong to a different phase of revolution, or rather, +are internal difficulties of a specific state that has gone through the +cycle of revolution. In spite of certain superficial analogies, they do +not seem to be a part of the uniformity we are here discussing. + +These little opposition factions are inextricably woven in with various +eccentric groups which are not completely stilled until the height of +the Terror--if even then. They represent, as we have seen, the lunatic +fringes common to any complex civilization, and they are especially +active and vocal in the early stages of our revolutions, and during the +struggle between moderates and extremists. They are less important in +the actual course of these revolutions than conservative historians, +and conservatives generally, like to make out. But they are interesting +variations in the main body of revolutionary orthodoxy, and they +illuminate in many ways the general history of heresy and heretics. + +“Never did the human mind attain such a magnificent height of +self-assertiveness as in England about the year 1650,” wrote Lytton +Strachey. And certainly what we now think of as almost a racially +founded British love for the middle-of-the-road is not very evident +in these years. Strachey ironically lists the possibility of becoming +a Behmenist, a Bidellian, a Coppinist, a Salmonist, a Dipper, a +Traskite, a Tyronist, a Philadelphian, Christadelphian, or Seventh Day +Baptist, omitting the subject he was actually writing about, Ludovic +Muggleton, founder of the still-existing Muggletonians. The terms mean +almost as little to us today as do those with which John Goodwin is +referred to in the third volume of _Gangraena_: “a monotonous sectary, +a compound of Socinianism, Arminianism, Libertinism, Antinomianism, +Independency, Popery and Skepticism.” This is a marvelous compound +of contradictions, as though a man today were called a mixture of +Communism, Hitlerism, Fascism, Republicanism and Prohibitionism. As +Mr. Gooch has said, the English revolution presents some of the most +remarkable communistic speculations in history. As early as 1647 John +Hare published a pamphlet, _Plain English to our Wilful Bearers of +Normanism_, in which he attacked the institution of private property +without being very clear about what might take its place. Chamberlen, +in his _Poor Man’s Advocate_, urged the nationalization of all Crown +and Church possessions, the resumption of all common lands that had +been enclosed. This land was to be called the national stock, and was +to be administered for the benefit of the poor. + +The Diggers, however, are the most remarkable of these communistic +groups, if only because they tried to put their ideas into practice. +The movement was prefaced by an obscure pamphlet of December, 1648, +with a title quite characteristic of the age, _Light Shining in +Buckinghamshire_. Early in April of 1649 one Everard, a cashiered +soldier of the New Model, with a few followers came to St. George’s +Hill in Surrey “and began to dig, and sowed the ground with parsnips, +carrots, and beans.” A voice, said Everard, had bidden him dig and plow +the earth and receive the fruits thereof. They did not intend to meddle +with enclosed land, but simply to take what was common and untilled and +make it fruitful. For the time being General Fairfax, who seems to have +regarded them as harmless fanatics, left them to their digging. + +The apocalyptic touch is even more striking, if possible, in the +Millenarians or Fifth Monarchy men. These held that the fourth monarchy +of the Bible was drawing to a close, and that the fifth monarchy, or +reign of the saints, was at hand.... They, of course, were the saints. +They split, however, over the question as to whether or not it was +proper for them to aid divine providence. Some of them held that the +Lord was in himself quite equal to the task of overthrowing the mighty +of this world; others believed that it was lawful, and presumably +helpful, to combat the Lord’s enemies with the material sword, and +hasten the day when the saints should possess riches and reign with +Him on earth. Their dilemma reminds one somewhat of that facing +nineteenth-century Socialists, forced to choose between the militants +and the revisionists. + +In comparison with the wealth of imagination the English put into +the effort to bring heaven to earth, the other two revolutions +seem poverty-stricken. Perhaps the old Anglo-Saxon belief that the +French lack imaginative depth is valid, but surely this cannot be +brought up against the Russians. Perhaps the answer is simply that as +sources of imaginative inspiration neither the Enlightenment of the +eighteenth-century _philosophes_ nor the dialectic materialism of the +Marxist can hold a candle to the King James version of the Bible. Yet +France was by no means unproductive on the side of the lunatic fringe. +The _Enragés_, led by Varlet and Roux, and based largely on the poorer +sections of Paris, seem to have held a vaguely communistic doctrine. +At any rate, they were definitely against the rich, against the new +merchant aristocracy. The _Hébertistes_, another popular Parisian group +sometimes confused with the _Enragés_, had largely yellow journalists +and ward spoilsmen as leaders, but their main body must have nourished +vaguely Utopian dreams. Then there was the incredible little circle +around Catherine Théot, “Mother of God”--with Robespierre designated at +least as one of the manifestations of God. It does indeed seem likely +that republican professors in France are right, and that much of this +was stirred up by Robespierre’s enemies to make him seem ridiculous; +for even at the crisis period of revolutions some men retain a sense of +humor. Yet the fact remains that Catherine Théot and her circle existed. + +In Russia the completeness and quickness of the Bolshevik victory +probably explains the relative lack of rival Utopias. It is true that +from 1918 to 1921 the Bolsheviks were forced to fight off Whites and +Allies on a dozen fronts, and that in a region like the Ukraine, for +instance, you can find everything from Czarist rulers through mild +_narodniks_ and partisan or guerilla rulers to pure Reds. But there is +a dog-eat-dog cruelty in the Russian revolution that seems to exclude +the mild delusions of an Everard or a Catherine Théot. + + +_IV. The Machinery of Dictatorship_ + +The dictatorship of the extremists is embodied in governmental forms +as a rough-and-ready centralization. In detail these forms vary in our +different societies, but the Commonwealth in England, the _gouvernement +révolutionnaire_ in France and the Bolshevik dictatorship during +the period of “war communism” in Russia all display uniformities of +the kind the systematist in biology or zoology would not hesitate +to catalogue as uniformities. Notably the making of final decisions +in a wide range of matters is taken away from local and secondary +authorities, especially if those authorities have been “democratically” +elected, and is concentrated on a few persons in the national capital. +Though names like Cromwell, Robespierre, and Lenin stand out as those +of rulers, and although these men did exercise unquestioned power in +many ways, the characteristic form of this supreme authority is that +of a committee. The government of the Terror is a dictatorship in +commission. + +This centralized executive commission--Committee of Public Safety, +the All-Russian Central Executive Committee (Vtsik)--rests on a +supine if talkative legislative body--Rump, Convention, All-Russian +Congress of Soviets--and gets its orders carried out by an extemporized +bureaucracy, largely recruited from party workers, and from that +club-sect-pressure-group we have seen as the body of the extremist +group. The old law courts cannot work, at least in their traditional +manner. They are therefore supplemented by extraordinary courts, +revolutionary tribunals, or are wholly transformed by new appointments +and by special jurisdictions. Finally, a special sort of revolutionary +police appears. The Russian Cheka is familiar to everyone with the +slightest knowledge of recent history. In France the _comité de surété +générale_ and the _comités révolutionnaires_ fulfilled these police +functions; in the English revolution they were carried out very +effectively by the new Independent parish clergy, aided by various +_ad hoc_ committees in the army. But in England the whole fabric of +governmental centralization was rudimentary and simple--Cromwell’s own +anomalous dictatorship, the new Court set up by the Rump in March, +1650, in which legislative, administrative, and judicial powers were as +thoroughly combined as ever in the Star Chamber, the curious experiment +of the Major Generals in 1655-56. The fact of the centralization in +England is, however, unquestionable. Even the sacred functions of that +holiest guardian of English local liberties, the Justice of the Peace, +were under attack all during the domination of the extremists. + +These extemporized dictatorships were faced not only with the ordinary +problems of government, but with civil and foreign war, and with at +least a certain number of actual reform measures which they had to try +to put through. Notably in the French and Russian revolutions, the new +government had to administer what, to avoid dispute as to the meaning +of Socialism, we may call measures of economic planning--fixed prices +and wages, managed currency, food rationing, and so on. We need not +here bother with the problem as to whether in France these were purely +war measures or not. The point is that the government found itself +obliged to try to administer them. In Russia, of course, there were +conscious efforts to embody Marxist Socialism in working institutions. + +But these were all very rough-and-ready forms of dictatorship. The +governments of the Terror were on the whole much less efficient, less +effectively absolute than many peacetime governments with nowhere near +their reputation for absoluteness. Indeed, one of the reasons why +they seem so tyrannical and hard to bear, even retrospectively, is +precisely because they were so inefficient. They got their big tasks +done--saved England, France, and Russia from dissolution or conquest, +but they did it very messily and, in detail, very badly. The actual +administrators were usually inexperienced, were often petty fanatics, +often incompetent blow-hards who had risen to prominence in the clubs +or the party. They were under tremendous pressure from above to get +results. They were frequently in charge of operations very close to +the heart of the revolution as an economic movement--confiscation of +Royalist estates and clerical livings in England, disposition of the +confiscated lands of clergy and _émigrés_ in France, nationalization +of land and factories in Russia--which gave them grand opportunities +for graft. They had to work with a population many if not most of whom +were distrustful or hostile. Small wonder then that these reigns of +terror stand out rather for irregular acts of violence, that their +full history is a matter of incredible complexity. Nothing is more +illuminating in the study of these revolutions than the study of local +history. Here you see the Terror as it really was, no steady and +efficient rule from above, as in an army or in Sparta, but a state +of suspense and fear, a dissolution of the sober little uniformities +of provincial life. Much depends on the accidents of personality--a +sensible squire, a moderate and able local revolutionary or two, and a +given village may go through a revolution fairly serenely. In others, +terror may rule as bitterly as in the capital. + +This inefficiency of the governments of the crisis period comes out +clearly in their attempts to regulate and control the economic life of +the state. This whole matter has probably very little to do with the +general problem of what is known as “economic planning.” Again we must +emphasize that we are concerned only with the anatomies of certain +specific revolutions. Suffice it to say that in France in 1793-94 and +in Russia in 1918-21 armies were fed and supplied with munitions, and +some civilians kept alive at any rate, under a pretty absolute state +control of economic activity. The French _maximum_ meant of course +price- and wage-fixing, and the Russian war communism was an even more +complete form of central planning. Yet in France violation of the +_maximum_ was as frequent as bootlegging used to be in this country, +and the detailed history of the _maximum_ seen as part of local history +would certainly provide some amusing bits. In Russia illegal trading +in the war years was again very like our bootlegging. The famous +Sukharevka Market in Moscow was occasionally raided but on the whole +winked at by Lenin’s government. All city dwellers who could possibly +do so made trips to the country to bargain with peasants for forbidden +food supplies. Here again the intimate little details of daily life are +fascinating, and call for the full talents of the social historian. + +There seems to be a pretty unanimous admission by historians, even +when they are hostile to revolutions in general, that during the +crisis period ordinary crimes of violence are rare. There may be +plenty of cruelty and corruption among these new administrators and +judges, the new regime may be very far from insuring peace and order, +but conventional robbers, cutthroats, kidnapers, and their like are +not very active. Your good stupid Tory has a simple explanation: +they’ve all got government jobs. We can, however, hardly accept this +as a blanket explanation. It seems likely that the ordinary criminals +are for the moment pretty well cowed by the general crusade against +ordinary vice and crime which is a part of the crisis period and to +which we are coming shortly. Petty thieves and in several instances +even prostitutes were summarily disposed of by what amounts to lynch +law during the French revolution, and similar instances can be found +in England and Russia. One need not accept it as a general suggestion +that you can always cow criminals by lynching; here, as throughout +this book, we are studying a particular set of events, seeking some +rough uniformities, and making no attempt at general conclusions in +any such field as criminology. It may be that in the general tension, +in the extraordinary widening of public concerns until privacy is +almost impossible, so private a thing as ordinary crime is difficult. +The criminal is disturbed, not only by fear of being lynched, but by +an indefinable general fear which he shares with ordinary citizens. +For fear needs no object, and in the Terror often has none. It must +be remembered that this crisis period is brief--a few months, a few +years at the most. At any rate, again a simple uniformity stands out: a +considerable lessening in the number of ordinary crimes is to be noted +during the crisis period. Mr. Chamberlin notes that Moscow in 1918-19 +was a very safe place to live in--if you could get enough to eat and +keep warm. + +There is usually a short period between the overthrow of the moderates +and the full impact of the Terror. The machinery of the Terror, +for one thing, hastily assembled though it is, cannot be assembled +overnight. Though the earlier history of the revolution has had its +share of violence, there has been an interlude or so of apparent peace +at times during the struggle between the moderates and the extremists. +The pressure of foreign enemies and their _émigré_ allies is not +immediately at its strongest. Yet as the weeks go on the forces that +make for the Terror come into full operation. + +We have in this chapter briefly described the rise of the extremists, +and have attempted to analyze the reasons for their victory. We have +taken them to the point where they have disposed of all important +conflicting groups, and have consolidated their position by installing +a centralized system of government. For the next few months, or for a +year or so, the extremists can be as extreme as they like. No one dare +challenge them. We have come to that crisis in the fever of revolution +men commonly call the Reign of Terror. This very important subject must +be treated in a separate chapter. + + + + +_Chapter_ SEVEN REIGNS OF TERROR AND VIRTUE + + +_I. Pervasiveness of the Terror_ + +“August 8, 1775. Riflemen took a man in New Milford, Connecticut, a +most incorrigible Tory, who called them d--d rebels, etc., and made +him walk before them to Litchfield, which is twenty miles, and carry +one of his own geese all the way in his hand. When they arrived there, +they tarred him, and made him pluck his goose, and then bestowed the +feathers on him, drummed him out of the company, and obliged him to +kneel down and thank them for their lenity.” The Jacobins of Rodez +in southern France drew up a list of “damned dogs of noblemen” and +others unworthy of wearing a mustache, the new symbol of patriotism, +republican virility and orthodoxy. It then ordered its committee of +surveillance to see that any such persons daring to wear a mustache +were seized and shaved, “taking good care to get the job done without +soap, and with the dullest razor available.” Shaving seems in some ways +a ritual performance lifted above the ordinary acts of the toilet, for +on October 3, 1775, the New York Sons of Liberty “in solemn Congress +assembled” took a vote of thanks: “to Mr. Jacob Vredenburgh, barber, +for his firm, spirited, and patriotic conduct in refusing to complete +an operation vulgarly called _shaving_, which he had begun on the +face of Captain John Croser, commander ... of one of his Majesty’s +transports.... It is to be wished that all gentlemen of the razor will +follow this wise, prudent, interesting example.” + +The undignified little details are important, for they help bring home +to us the pervasiveness of the Reign of Terror. There is not only the +melodrama of the block, the guillotine and the firing-squad, not only +the heightened struggle for power among the great of the new order, +not only the tension of foreign and civil war, there is also the +tragi-comedy of thousands of little lives invaded by heroic concerns +which are ordinarily not theirs at all. The Terror touches great and +small with the obsessive power of a fashion; it holds men as little of +the common weal ever holds them, unless they are professionally devoted +to the study or practice of politics. During the Terror, politics +becomes as real, as pressing, as unavoidable for John Jones or Jacques +Duval as food and drink, wife or mistress, his job and the weather. +Political indifference, that mainstay of the modern state, becomes +impossible for even the most selfish, the most unworldly. + +This participation in the common thing, in the drama of the +revolutionary state, means different things to those we may call +outsiders and those we may call insiders. The opposition is purely +one of convenience. No doubt there are insensible gradations from the +ardent revolutionary extremist--the admirably drawn Evariste Gamelin +of Anatole France’s _The Gods Are Athirst_, for instance--through +the neutral and colorless Center to skulking and repressed +anti-revolutionaries. But in broad lines the division between the many +outside the revolutionary cult and the small active band of orthodox +believers in the new dispensation is worth making. Let us look first +at the Terror as it affects the life of the outsider. + + +_II. The Terror and the Outsider_ + +This ordinary outsider is not the actively hostile person, the _émigré_ +in fact or, as the French actually put it, the _émigré d’esprit_, the +_émigré_ who has quit spiritually if not in the flesh. He is not the +disgruntled moderate. He is simply the man who makes up the bulk of +modern societies, the man who on the whole accepts what others do in +politics, the man who fairly soon gets on the band-wagon. Especially +in its crisis period, the revolution is awfully hard on this outsider. +It may provide him with a certain number of spectacles in the form of +various celebrations of the new revolutionary cults--processions, trees +of liberty, festivals of reason, and so on. But certainly in the French +revolution there are many indications that the outsiders got very tired +of this, that in the long run they found the old Catholic ceremonials +more to their liking. One wonders whether in the long run the mass +ceremonials which Stalin as well as Hitler and Mussolini seem to manage +so well will not also wear a bit thin. On the other hand, there can be +no doubt that our modern revolutionists are much better stage managers +than their predecessors. + +The revolutionary mania for renaming seems also to tend to confuse +and annoy the outsider. The English confined their efforts largely +to the names of persons, where they achieved some remarkable +results. We are all familiar with Praise God Barebone, and +Put-thy-Trust-in-Christ-and-Flee-Fornication Williams is perhaps more +than a legend. The Puritans of course drew chiefly from the Bible and +from evangelical abstractions--Faith, Prudence, Charity, and so on. + +The French drew from the virtuous days of Roman republicanism, from +the abstractions of the Enlightenment, and from their own leaders +and martyrs. Babeuf, the forerunner of Socialism, became Gracchus +Babeuf. Claude Henri, Comte de St. Simon, kept his Christian names, +but dropped the compromising contact with a saint, and became Claude +Henri Bonhomme. The unfortunate Leroys (Kings) found it well to change +to Laloys (Laws) or something equally patriotic. One faithful Jacobin +had his child republicanly baptized Libre Constitution Leturc. The +French, however, did not stop with persons. Corrupt street names were +changed, the Place Louis XV becoming Place de la Révolution, the rue de +la Couronne becoming rue de la Nation. Place names underwent wholesale +changes that must have added greatly to the wartime disruption of +the mail service. Most of the Saints were dropped, which alone would +cause a lot of trouble. Lyons, having sinned against the revolution +by siding with the Federalists, on being taken by troops of the +Convention was re-christened Commune Affranchie (Freed Town). Le Havre +became Havre-Marat. In the conventional greeting of one’s fellows, +monsieur became citoyen. For a while the word “roi” was under a taboo +as definite as the kind the anthropologist studies, and was actually +cut out of classic authors like Racine. There was an attempt, possibly +serious, possibly journalistic, to change “reine abeille” into “abeille +pondeuse”--“queen bee” into “laying bee.” + +In their determination to uproot everything of the contaminated past, +the French revolutionists decided to revolutionize the calendar, to +do away with names like January, which recalled the vicious old Roman +god Janus, or July, which recalled the even more vicious Roman tyrant, +Julius Caesar. So they made twelve new months, and named them, in +melodious French, after the glorious works of Nature--_germinal_, +the month of buds, _fructidor_, the month of ripening, _brumaire_, +the month of mists. Although the French boasted the universality +of their revolutionary aims and principles, they were apparently +undisturbed by the narrow limitation of their new calendar to French +climatic conditions. The calendar is, of course, most inappropriate to +Australia, and even to the American midwest. + +The Russians, in addition to their fondness for personal revolutionary +_noms de guerre_, have been particularly addicted to changing place +names, and unlike the French, have hitherto made them stick, insofar +at least as the names were those of good Stalinists. Catherine the +Great, in particular, had put herself on the map as successfully as +did Alexander the Great, but she has vanished altogether from Soviet +Russia. Ekaterinodar has become Krasnodar, Ekaterineburg Sverdlovsk, +and Ekaterinoslav Dnepropetrovsk. The familiar Nizhni Novgorod has only +recently, with a loss of euphony and great associations, become Gorki. +Stalin, for a living man, has done very well for himself. Stalinabad +is perhaps the most exotic of the Stalin towns, but most effectively +symbolic no doubt was the changing of Tsaritsyn to Stalingrad--not the +only place where Stalin has replaced the Czar. From long Socialist +tradition, “comrade” took the place occupied by “citizen” in the +French revolution. Children, too, were given names as suitable to the +day as were Praise God and Libre Constitution to their day. Vladilen, +a telescoping of Vladimir and Lenin, is one of the most shockingly +unconventional to an old Russian. + +This renaming is clearly one of the uniformities we can list for all +our revolutions. Even the moderate American revolution indulged in some +renaming. Boston saw King Street and Queen Street give way to names +like Federal and State, thoroughly suited to the new regime; but for +some reason or other the tainted name of Hanover Street survived. The +American name for a certain harmful fly is the Hessian fly, a name +given it in revolutionary days. A kind of cousin of that fly is known +in the South as the Abe Lincoln bug, which is a reminder of the fact +that what we call the Civil War was essentially an abortive revolution. + +There is no need to worry much over an explanation of this rage for +renaming. Names are to the savage associated with magic, and we are +constantly reminded in these days of our own nearness to the savage. +Change a name and you change the thing. It’s all very simple. We are +here, however, interested rather in the effect of all this renaming on +the outsider, and we can be reasonably sure that it affords an example +of the kind of thing that begins to wear on him. The revolution in +names is petty enough. But for John Jones life is an accumulation of +petty matters; and John is not built to support a very complete set of +changes in the trivial details of which his habits are made. Witness +Rip Van Winkle. + +There is also, of course, the strain of living under the kind of +government we have in the last chapter described as the government of +the Terror. Even the humblest person, the person most indifferent to +politics, can never tell when the lightning is going to strike him or +his household, when he may be haled into court as a class enemy or a +counter-revolutionary. Detailed study of this constant threat, this +omnipresence of the government, cannot be attempted here. We may, +however, take up briefly two phases which particularly affect the +outsider. + +First, as we shall see shortly from the point of view of the insider, +all these revolutions have at their crisis a quality unmistakably +puritanical or ascetic or, to use an overworked word, idealistic. +There is a serious attempt by those in authority to eradicate the +minor vices, as well as what some might feel inclined to call +the major pleasures. With what the Saints in England tried to do +in the seventeenth century most Americans are familiar, if only +from repercussions in New England. But Americans, who have always +exaggerated the French capacity for the pleasures of the senses, are +perhaps not so aware of the fact that in ’93 and ’94 there was an +earnest attempt to clean up Paris, to shut up brothels, gaming houses, +to eliminate actual drunkenness. Virtue was the order of the day. +You couldn’t even be lazy. Some Jacobin would be sure to report you +to the club, with the suggestion that the best place to cure you of +unrepublican laziness was the army. The puritanism of the Bolsheviks +may seem even more paradoxical, but it most certainly existed, and we +shall return shortly to its consideration. + +Now there is no doubt that in the better world towards which we +all in some measure aspire, drinking, whoring, gambling, laziness, +boastfulness, and a whole lot of things we all condemn, will simply +not exist. But it seems equally undeniable that here and now on this +earth, and for some generations back, a fairly large number of human +beings have been and are addicted to one or more of these pursuits, +regarding them--not always consciously with the intellect--as necessary +compensations for dullness or other inadequacies in their daily lives. +We must again remind ourselves that we are not dealing with moral +questions, not praising or condemning, but trying to arrange facts in a +useful order. It seems then that the following uniformity is clear: the +extremists’ attempt to enforce a life without the ordinary vices within +a fairly short time puts a strain on the outsider very hard for him, or +her, to bear. + +Not only is the outsider denied access to what he probably regards +as legitimate amusement; the new authorities will not even leave him +to himself. Revolutions are very hard indeed on privacy. Gorki once +wrote that “Lenin was a man who prevented people from leading their +accustomed lives as no one before him was able to do.” This is no doubt +a rhetorical exaggeration, but one can see what Gorki is getting at. +And as people have a certain inertia in the direction of leading their +“accustomed lives,” we can perhaps understand better why Stalin rather +than Trotsky has proved to be Lenin’s successor. In the crisis period +the revolution comes to hound John Jones in whatever he does. In a +revolution even the conventional back-biting, gossip and hatreds of +ordinary social life are intensified beyond endurance. The Jacobins, +especially in the provinces, were eager to pick up any bit of gossip +that would show a reform was needed. Citizen W should keep his dog +tied up, citizen X should be made to marry the girl, citizen Y should +be admonished against outbursts of temper, rich citizen Z should be +made to give his consent to the marriage of his daughter to a poor but +honest Jacobin youth in good standing with the club. One expects this +sort of thing from one’s own family and friends, but not, even in the +totalitarian state, from the government. The Germans have a delightful +proverb, which may perhaps give them some solace today: “The soup is +never eaten as hot as it’s cooked.” But certainly in the crisis period +of revolutions there is an effort to force it steaming down the throat +of the ordinary citizen. In the long run, he can’t stand it, and his +cooks learn their lesson and allow it to cool off a bit. But that is in +the period of convalescence from the revolutionary fever. + +Shut out from his ordinary pleasures and vices, constrained to fight +for, or at least to cheer long, loud, and conspicuously for the +revolutionary state in its struggle with foreign and civil foes, +exposed to privation and suffering from scarcity attendant on war +and the inevitable inefficiencies of the new government, urged to +the “height of revolutionary circumstances” on every hand, in press, +theater, pulpit, rostrum, mass demonstration, above all inescapably +caught in the common and very exhausting nervous excitement which +marks the crisis period, John Jones sooner or later finds these +strains insupportable, and gets ready to welcome anyone who can throw +the extremists out. Perhaps no one of these strains would be in +itself unbearable, though it does seem likely that there is a kind of +saturation point in large-scale, obsessive political propaganda after +which such propaganda actually backfires. We may hope to learn more in +this respect from contemporary German and Russian experience. At any +rate, the converging series of pressures outlined above seems clearly +to have put too great a strain on the outsider in our revolutions. + + +_III. The Terror and the Insider: The Religious Parallel_ + +To the insider, to the true believer, the revolution appears as a very +different thing in this crisis period, though one may guess that for +some of the less ardent insiders much of what has been said about the +outsiders begins, after a while, to hold true also. The revolution +begins to take too much out of him, and he begins to have his +hesitations and his doubts, to be bored with the endless ceremonies, +deputations, committees, tribunals, militia work, and the other chores +necessary to achieve the reign of virtue on earth. He, too, becomes +an outsider. But the true faithful stay to the end, to the block, the +guillotine, the firing-squad, or exile. + +Now to this insider it would seem that the service of the revolution +supplies many of the satisfactions commonly supplied by what we call +religion. This analogy with religion has been frequently made. It has +been applied, not only to the English revolution where its fitness +is undisputed, but also to the French and Russian revolutions. Since +both Jacobins and Bolsheviks were violently hostile to Christianity +and boasted themselves atheists or at least deists, this analogy has +given a great deal of offense both to Christians and to their enemies. +For the Marxist in particular the assertion that his behavior has +similarities with the behavior of men under the acknowledged influence +of religion is like a red rag to a bull. Nor is the Marxist wholly +unjustified in his anger, for the glib phrase, “Oh, the Communists +are just another fanatical sect,” is frequently thrown out by shallow +conservatives as at once a reproach and a dismissal. Actually, to +judge from past experience, it would seem that large numbers of men +can be brought to do certain very important things of the kind the +Communists want to have done only under the influence of what we call +religion; that is, some pattern of more or less similar sentiments, +moral aspirations, and ritualistic practices. Marxism as a religion +has already got a great deal done; Marxism as a “scientific theory” +alone would hardly have got beyond the covers of _Das Kapital_ and the +learned journals. + +But the dispute sketched above is endless, and we are not rash enough +to suppose we can settle it. Those who use the term “religion” in +this connection seem to us to be trying to describe a phenomenon of +the world of sense-experience, one that needs to be integrated with +other phenomena of revolutions. It is certainly true, however, that +this use apparently arouses in many persons emotions unfavorable +to the continued objective study of the subject. Anyone who could +suggest a neutral term as effectively pointing to the same phenomena +as does the term “religion” would be performing a great service for +sociology. No such term at present existing, we shall have to continue +to use the word “religion.” We must insist that this word does not +refer necessarily and exclusively to a formally theistic cult like +Christianity; and above all, that it does not necessarily imply belief +in the “supernatural.” We take it that in the present analysis the +important thing about a religious belief is that under its influence +men work very hard and excitedly in common to achieve here or somewhere +an ideal, a pattern of life not at the moment universally--or even +largely--achieved. Religion attempts to close in favor of the best of +human hopes the gap between what men are and what men would like to be; +at least in its young and active phase, it will not for a moment admit +that such a gap can long exist. + +To discern the element of religion in the behavior of the ardent +extremist is not to deny the existence of economic motives. Indeed, at +this stage some of the most acute phases of the struggle among classes +are to be noticed, and form one of the uniformities we can clearly +consider established. Whatever the place of economic class struggles +in the days just before the revolution--and in our four revolutions it +takes varied forms by no means adequately summed up in phrases such +as “feudal nobility,” “middle class,” and “proletariat”--once the +revolution gets going these class struggles have at least one phase +common in all four societies. The property of many, if not most, of +those openly and stubbornly identified with the beaten parties is +confiscated for the benefit of the successful parties, identified +as “the people.” Furthermore, as the different moderate groups are +defeated their property, too, is commonly confiscated in the same way. + +In the English revolution the Royalists lost a large part of their +property, mostly in land; and though lay Presbyterians were not +as a rule subjected to confiscation of property unless they were +actively on the wrong side in politics, there was a great deal of +easing Presbyterians and other unacceptable ecclesiastics out of +their livings. Laurence Washington, a clergyman, the father of the +John of Virginia, and a direct ancestor of George, was “plundered” +as the phrase went in 1643, cause he was said to have said that the +parliamentary army had more papists in it than there were around the +King. That is to say, he was deprived of his living. We need hardly be +reminded that Loyalist property was confiscated during the American +revolution. Indeed the late J. F. Jameson concludes that in a quiet +way--quiet at least for revolutions--the American revolution effected +in its whole course a very sensible democratization, or spreading +into smaller units, of ownership of property in this country. Both in +France and in Russia the revolutions saw the confiscation primarily +of land, but even in France to some extent also of capital, and their +redistribution. We need not go into detail here on these agrarian +problems. Sufficient to state that many of those who came to the top +in the crisis period, both leaders and followers, had good reason to +hope that by staying on top their economic status would be consistently +better than it had been. This is true regardless of what theories and +ideals, laissez-faire or Socialism, were appealed to as guiding the new +distribution. + +But though we must recognize the economic motive, as we recognize the +drive to centralization to repel attacks from within and without, our +picture is incomplete until we consider those elements unavoidably +called religious. Partly because the economic and political elements +are in their conventional sense familiar to most people nowadays, +partly because these religious elements appear to be among the +most important variables in the situation, we are here emphasizing +them. They seem to be among the most important variables because +their presence in an acute form gives a different and much more +pervasive tone to the political and economic elements of struggle, +which frequently occur by themselves in very similar form and even +somewhat similar intensity in situations we do not commonly label +revolutionary. It is also true that in the growth of Wesleyan Methodism +in eighteenth-century England, for instance, in times not to be called +revolutionary, one finds actively religious behavior among large +numbers of people, behavior in many ways like that we are going to +analyze in our revolutionary insider. But Wesleyanism was politically +conservative on the whole, and not directed at a given social and +political system. The whole point, indeed, of the three revolutions +we are about to analyze is that religious enthusiasms, organization, +ritual and ideas appear inextricably bound up with economic and +political aims. + +The insiders in all three of our complete revolutions, and indeed +to a certain extent in the fourth, the American revolution, seem to +have wished to put into life here on earth some of the order, the +discipline, the contempt for the easy vices, which the Calvinist sought +to put there. Indeed our first revolution, the English, is commonly +labeled the Calvinist or Puritan revolution. Here we may expect a +protest from the Communists, an indignant assertion that Marx put such +Christian weaknesses as a desire to subdue the flesh well behind him, +that his followers are all for an abundance of food and drink, and +the other good things of this world for everybody. We shall return to +that question in a moment. In the meantime we can begin to see some +lurking ascetic tendency in Communism if we reflect on how indignant +good Communists would be over the slogan “wine, women, and song for +everybody.” + +That the Puritans were in some sense puritanical we can take in stride +as a reasonable assumption. Indeed, at present it is probably more +useful to try to show that the historical Puritans both in old and +new England were not quite the complete killjoys the school of H. L. +Mencken would make them out to have been. As for the Jacobins, their +legislation and above all their somewhat informal administration in +1793-94 had striking analogies with the kind of things the English +Puritans tried to put over. The Jacobins were in principle against +gambling, drunkenness, sexual irregularities of all sorts, ostentatious +display of poverty, idleness, thieving, and of course in general all +sorts of crimes. In practice they felt at liberty to enforce abstention +from these vices and to insist with force on the carrying out of +positive acts of virtue--such as selling goods always at the legal +fixed maximum price, even if a little bootlegging seemed quite safe, +attending celebrations in honor of the Supreme Being on _décadi_, +expressing in public the opinion that William Pitt was a corrupt +villain, and the English nation a lot of pathetic slaves. Such a system +of action they sought to enforce by making each man his own detective, +God’s own private spy, much as was said to have been done in Calvin’s +own Geneva. + +Those who chiefly did the prying were the members of the local clubs, +urged on by the local leaders, just as with the Puritans it was the +parish clergy, aided by the active elders of the church, who saw to +it that the sheep were properly shepherded. The most undignified +matters, apparently the most insignificant also, might under these +conditions set a parish or a community on end. The first dissension +in the English Separatist Church at Amsterdam, we are told, arose not +over any point of doctrine or ritual, but over the lace on Mrs. Francis +Johnson’s sleeve. One could find dozens of parallels for this in the +behavior of the Jacobins. There was the lively debate in a little club +in Normandy over the question whether citizen doctor X wasn’t making +his professional calls on aristocrats too long, his calls on patriots +too short. And the great row at Bourgoin when the secretary announced +that he wasn’t going to wear the red Liberty cap because it didn’t +become him. This shocking display of vanity overcoming patriotism +unleashed the full fury of the virtuous Republicans of Bourgoin, and +the secretary was lucky to escape with his life. + +The other-worldliness of the Russian revolutionists affords a problem +more apparent than important, or even real. It is quite true that +“philosophically” modern Communism is based on materialism, that it +denies the immortality of the soul and indeed the existence of a soul, +that it insists men must be happy here on earth, enjoying the good +things of this earth. But surely it is most important if you wish to +understand the problems of men in society to find out what men do, how +they behave, as well as what they say on paper or in the pulpit that +they are doing, or want to do, or ought to do. It is also quite true +that Communists, fellow-travelers, as the Communists like to call their +sentimental followers among the intellectuals, and the brethren of the +Left in general in this country tend to be extremely indignant when +their behavior is analyzed as we propose to analyze it. Here, as so +often, indignation is not refutation. + +That the Bolshevik leaders were almost all ascetics is perhaps a +commonplace. Lenin was notably austere and contemptuous of ordinary +comfort, and at the height of his power his apartments in the Kremlin +were of barrack-like simplicity. Some of Lenin’s sayings sound like +the bourgeois Calvinists as analyzed by Max Weber, or even by Mr. +R. H. Tawney: “Carry out an accurate and honest account of money, +manage economically, don’t loaf, don’t steal, maintain the strictest +discipline in labor.” Indeed, the general tone among the high command +of Bolshevism was in those early years that of a consecrated and +almost monastic group. In a Russia where men were starving or freezing +it was for one thing pretty impolitic for leaders to look too sleek +and well-fed. But just as the pressure of the war is not a complete +explanation for the Terror, so neither necessity nor policy explains +the asceticism of the Bolsheviks. They felt, as the Puritans had felt, +that the ordinary vices and weaknesses of human beings are disgusting, +that the good life cannot be led until they are eliminated. Early the +Bolsheviks prohibited the national drink, vodka, and almost all the +early soviets took steps against prostitution, gambling, night life, +and so on. Theoretically the Bolsheviks thought women should be free, +for instance, free from the shocking limitations bourgeois laws had put +upon them; hence the notable freedom allowed in Russia as to marriage, +divorce, abortion, and other phases of family and sex relationships. +But the Bolsheviks did not intend by this that women were to be free to +behave as they were sure they secretly behaved--or wanted to behave--in +dissolute old bourgeois society. On the contrary, they expected their +women to behave as they would behave in the classless society--and +though vague, that is a pretty strict canon. + +Even today, when apparently the crisis stage is over in Russia, there +are numerous survivals of the intense asceticism of the true Communist +party members of the crisis period. In their innocent book on Soviet +Russia, the innocent Webbs declare that there is no asceticism in +Russia, of course, and then go on and explain how the Comsomols +(Communist Youth) are encouraged to take the pledge--not for any +silly evangelical reasons, heavens, no, but because drinking anything +alcoholic is “a breach of the rule requiring maintenance of perfect +health.” Petting, too, is very definitely discouraged as unworthy of +the Communist Youth, especially when it is done in public. “Nothing +pornographic is allowed in literature or in any form of art. There is +less public sex appeal in evidence in Russia than in any Western land.” +Since the Webbs wrote this, the Russians seem to have relaxed a bit in +their public restraints, and the Germans, in the freshness of their +revolution, have gone very puritanical in such matters. Berlin, which +used to provide the broadest range of sexual activity in the world, +has now outwardly taken on a Lutheran and Teutonic virtue, while the +existence of public prostitution in Moscow and Leningrad can hardly +escape even visiting members of the British Labour party. + +The Russians of old being notoriously dirty about their public +places--almost as dirty as we Americans are--the new regime has made it +a point of discipline that no litter, papers, and such-like truck be +left in public parks, streets, and stations. Indeed, membership in the +Communist party itself, always a very select and disciplined minority, +demanded for years, and to a certain extent still demands, the exercise +of a great deal of self-restraint, a willingness to live simply, to +work hard, to conform to very high standards of personal morality. +As usual in such circumstances, and as we have already noted for the +Puritans and the Jacobins, self-restraint was apparently not enough, +and there grew up in Russia all sorts of official and unofficial +methods of spying, prying, checking-up on the actions of individuals, +and controlling them by Terrorist methods. Many of these agencies are +now serving the Stalinite reaction, as similar agencies in France and +in England served the Thermidorean reaction and the Stuart restoration. + +Now groups thoroughly disciplined into lives almost as unnaturally +ascetic as those our Puritans, Jacobins, and Bolshevists sought to +impose have existed for relatively long periods. The Spartiates +contrived to support an almost heroic Communism for several centuries. +But this discipline is of slow growth, intimately tied up with the kind +of behavior in men that changes with geological slowness. A revolution +cannot manufacture this kind of discipline overnight, and perhaps +the violence--and here is meant rather spiritual violence than mere +bloodshed--of the Terror is in some sense an overcompensation for the +inability of the extremists to carry their ordinary brothers along with +them. The Terror is a desperate overshooting of the mark. Again, the +existence in individuals of a certain amount of inclination to meddle +with their neighbor’s private affairs is probably a useful thing, +part of what cements societies together. But here, too, the ardent +revolutionists overshoot the mark and make life unbearable for their +neighbors. + +There are traces of this kind of organized asceticism, this crusade +against the customary vices, even in the American revolution, where +the crisis stage was never as intense as in our other revolutions. +There were many restrictive measures justified chiefly as necessary to +the efficient prosecution of the war against George III. There were +others quite as obviously dictated by the traditions of middle-class +Protestant ethics which had long been established in the Middle +Colonies and in New England. But here and there one encounters the +true accent of revolutionary idealism. Here is a passage worthy of +Robespierre: “Titles are the offspring of monarchical and arbitrary +governments. While the object of the present war with Great Britain +was reconciliation, the titles of excellency, honorable, etc., were +submitted to by the people of America, but since the Declaration of +Independence, the colonies have divorced monarchy forever, and become +free, independent states. It becomes then necessary to adopt the simple +language of free governments.... Let us leave the titles of excellency +and honorable to the abandoned servants of a tyrant King ... while we +satisfy ourselves with beholding our senators, governors, and generals +rich in real excellence and honor.” + +The Baltimore Committee which in April, 1775, “recommended to the +people of the county not to encourage or attend the approaching fair +because of its tendency to encourage horse-racing, gaming, drunkenness, +and other dissipation” was going beyond the strict necessities of +the situation. Again we find a neat illustration from the pen of a +Connecticut patriot writing in July, 1775: “Wednesday evening last, +a number of ladies and gentlemen collected at a place called East +Farms, in Connecticut, where they had a needless entertainment, and +made themselves extremely merry with a good glass of wine. Such +entertainments and diversions can hardly be justified upon any +occasion; but at such a day as this, when everything around us has a +threatening aspect, they ought to be discountenanced, and every good +man should use his influence to suppress them.” + +Our orthodox and successful extremists, then, are crusaders, fanatics, +ascetics, men who seek to bring heaven to earth. No doubt many of them +are hypocrites, career-seekers masquerading as believers, no doubt +many of them climb on the band-wagon for selfish motives. Yet it is +most unrealistic to hold that men may not be allowed to reconcile +their interests with their ideas. Many an ardent and sincere follower +of Robespierre, many a seeker after Calvinist truth, was able, with +the best of conscience, to buy lands confiscated from the unrepublican +or the ungodly. Our extremists are also, as the intimate details of +their daily lives should convince us, for the most part quite ordinary +people, with the loves and hatreds, aspirations and doubts, hopes +and fears, of ordinary people. Once the crisis period is over, they +will, save for the few born martyrs, cease to be crusaders, fanatics, +ascetics. Their revolutionary beliefs will be softly cushioned in a +comfortable ritual, will be a consolation and a habit rather than a +constant prick of the ideal. But now, in the crisis period, they are in +what we may call the active phase of a religion. Let us briefly take +up some of the striking characteristics of this phase in our three +societies. + +Calvinism, Jacobinism, Marxism, are all rigidly deterministic. All +believe that what happens here below is foreordained, predestined to +follow a course which no mere human being can alter, least of all +those who oppose respectively Calvinism, Jacobinism, or Marxism. In +fact, the more priest and prelate storm and rage, the more certain is +the Calvinists’ victory. The acts of aristocrats, traitors, Pitts and +Cobourgs can but make the triumph of the French Republic greater. The +harder the Rockefellers and the Morgans work, the more capitalistic +their behavior, the sooner will come the inevitable glorious and final +uprising of the proletariat. God for the Calvinist, Nature-Reason for +the Jacobin, Dialectical or Scientific Materialism for the Marxist, +provide comforting assurance that the believer is on the side that +_must_ win. Obviously the belief that you can’t lose will in most--not +all--cases make you a better fighter. + +Those whom God, Nature, or Science has chosen are quite willing +to advertise the fact of this choice, and, indeed, display an +inconsistency which is purely logical, and not at all of the emotions, +in that they seem very anxious to help the inevitable come about. Rigid +determinists are also usually ardent proselyters, presumably on the +grounds that they are instruments of the inevitable, the means through +which the inevitable realizes itself. They do not, however, seem to +behave as if they held that resistance to their proselyting, refusal of +unbelievers to accept their message, were also determined, inevitable, +and even pardonable. + +At any rate, our revolutionists all sought to spread the gospel of +their revolution. What we now call “nationalism” is certainly present +as an element in all these revolutionary gospels. But at least in the +earlier years, and during the crisis of a revolution, crude notions of +national expansion do not prevail. The lucky people to whom the gospel +has been revealed wish to spread it properly abroad. In the Messianic +fervor of the crisis period, aggressive nationalism is not on the +surface. Underneath it doubtless helps drive the revolutionists on, +and in the period of reaction it emerges into the light, barely if at +all disguised as the “destiny” of a chosen people and its leader. The +Jacobins announced they were bringing the blessings of freedom to all +the people of the earth, and such is the power of imagination that some +men still think of Napoleon as agent of the new freedom. The Bolsheviks +are present to all our generation as great apostles of a world-wide +revolution. Most of us can still remember the days when fearful folk in +conservative lands looked under their beds each night for emissaries of +Moscow. + +The Calvinists as Christians, of course, were ardent proselyters. But +the victorious English Independents were also capable of mixing their +religious with political propaganda, were anxious to win the world over +to their superior form of society. Cromwell’s famous collaborator, +Admiral Blake, used to spread the gospel in foreign lands. Thanks to +the example of England, Blake said, “All kingdoms will annihilate +tyranny and become republics.” England had done so already. France was +following in her wake; and as the natural gravity of the Spaniards +rendered them somewhat slower, he gave them ten years. All Europe is +shortly to be republican--and this in the 1650’s! Those who today +boast or bemoan that soon the Western world will be all Communist, or +all Fascist, or all Democratic, might ponder awhile the circumstances +of this remark of Blake’s. + +A good deal of ink and oratory has been expended over this effort +of the extremists to propagate their faiths among the nations. +Conservatives in other nations are naturally very suspicious. Moscow +gold must be at the bottom of every liberal or radical movement; there +is an organized international plot to establish the world-rule of +atheistic Jacobinism and destroy Christianity. Probably in most cases +these fears and suspicions are much exaggerated. The revolutionists +are usually too poor, and too occupied at home, to devote more than +a small part of their energies to these foreign missions. There are, +moreover, in the other countries usually enough disgruntled natives +to form a solid nucleus for revolutionary action. The importation +into these countries of English, French, or Russian phrases and other +revolutionary fashions is the most natural thing in the world. + +At any rate, there is no doubt about the fact of the uniformity. Even +in the seventeenth century, when the world was so much larger, so +much slower to cross, the English revolution spread itself abroad. +Edward Sexby at Bordeaux proposed to the French radicals a republican +constitution which was to be called _L’Accord du Peuple_--an adaptation +of the English Agreement of the People--and was obliged in consequence +to flee the town. In Holland at the news of trouble in England, “the +people began to take sides for one or the other of the parties and with +such fervor that in many cases they came to blows.” This sounds a lot +like the behavior of Federalists and Republicans in the United States +in the 1790’s, when the French revolution provided most of the dramatic +material of American politics. But the point need not be labored. +Similar examples from the Russian revolution will occur to almost +everyone. + +The religious parallel may be pushed a bit further. Our revolutionists +are convinced that they are the elect, destined to carry out the will +of God, Nature, or Science. That feeling was particularly strong +among the Russian Communists, where in pure logic it should be less +strong than among the Calvinists, believers in a personal God. The +opponents of these revolutionists are not just political enemies, not +just mistaken men, grafters, log-rollers, or damned fools; they are +sinners, and must not merely be beaten--they must be wiped out. Hence +the justification of the guillotine and the firing-squad. For our +revolutionists display that vigorous intolerance which in the logic of +the emotions as well as in that of the intellect, follows perfectly +on the conviction of being absolutely, eternally, monopolistically +right. If there is but one truth, and you have that truth completely, +toleration of differences means an encouragement to error, crime, evil, +sin. Indeed, toleration in this sense is harmful to the tolerated, +as well as very trying on the tolerator. As Bellarmine said, it is a +positive benefit to obstinate heretics to kill them because the longer +they live the more damnation they heap upon themselves. + +These revolutionary faiths are very interesting in their eschatologies, +their notions of final ends like heaven and hell. The English +revolution was dominated by some of the wilder as well as by the more +conventional of Christian eschatologies. The Millenarians expected the +second coming year after year. The rule of the Saints was just around +the corner. The Jacobins had a much less concrete notion of heaven, and +this heaven was to be definitely here on earth--the republic of Virtue +which we have seen as Robespierre’s ideal. After the dictatorship of +the revolutionary government, this perfect republic was to appear, +and Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, would be more than a slogan. To +hardened Americans a republic doesn’t sound at all like a heaven, but +we must believe that it was very different for the earnest Jacobin +of 1794. The Russian heaven is the classless society, to be attained +after the purgatory of the dictatorship of the proletariat has slowly +put an end to the worldly miseries of the class struggle. It seems +that even the Stalinists admit being still in purgatory. The specific +content of life in the classless society is somewhat vaguely described +by most Communists; and Marx himself, unlike Mohammed, went into no +details about his heaven. There will be competition, one gathers, but +no struggle, and certainly no struggle over economic goods. Competition +will be on a lofty plane, as among artists. Perhaps there will be +competition in love? At any rate, as in a more robust heaven, the old +German Valhalla, the heroes will fight all day, but at night their +wounds will heal. + +All of these faiths were incorporated in social groups, and hence had +rituals. The present writer has elsewhere described at some length the +Jacobin ritual, a strange hodgepodge of Catholic, Protestant, classical +and other elements, with Republican creeds, Republican baptisms and +prayers, even with a revolutionary sign of the cross in the name of +_Marat, Le Pelletier, la liberté ou la mort_. Communist ritual is +less crudely imitative, and perhaps less rich. But it is just as +definite, as you will find in talking to an initiated Communist. Marx’s +_Das Kapital_, of course, is hardly ever read in orthodox circles +except ritualistically. The French revolutionists had their saints +and martyrs, especially the murdered Marat: the apotheosis of Lenin, +clearly begun in his lifetime, has become a cult centered around his +tomb in Moscow. Lenin is perhaps, like Jeremy Bentham preserved in +University College, London, a purely secularist saint; but a saint he +is. Stalin, we are told, has had to fight very hard the tendency of +simple Russian folk to mix a certain amount of superstition with their +natural devotion to their present great leader. He would not care to be +classed with the old icons. Smaller groups, like the Communist Youth, +are brought up in an atmosphere of ritual, are in this respect more +like some of the social side-shows of our Protestant churches than like +comparatively secular groups such as the Boy Scouts. + +Religious symbolism goes along with this ritual, and was especially +developed in France. During the Terror, one met symbolic devices +everywhere: the eye of surveillance, seeking out the enemies of the +Republic; the triangle of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity; the Phrygian +cap of liberty, the _bonnet rouge_; the carpenter’s level, symbolizing +equality; any kind of mound, which served as symbol for the beneficent +Mountain, the party that had carried out the revolution to its logical +end. Most of these and many other symbols are to be found in the +elaborate pageant of the 20th Prairial at Paris, when Robespierre +personally supervised the festival of the Supreme Being. The Russians, +aided by modern poster technique, have made a similar, if less +pedantic, use of symbols to hold the people together in a Communist +society. + + +_IV. What Makes the Terror?_ + +In the crisis periods of all four of our revolutions we may distinguish +the same set of variables, differently combined and mixed with all +sorts of contingent factors to produce the specific situations the +narrative historian of these revolutions tends to regard as unique. +There are no doubt a very great number of these variables, but for the +purposes of a first approximation we may here distinguish seven. These +seem not to be related one to another in any important one-way causal +relationship. They seem, indeed, more or less like the independent +variables of the mathematician, though it is inconceivable that they +should be strictly independent. The temptation to single out one of +them as the “cause” of the Terror is, like the temptation to find a +hero or a villain in any situation, hard to resist. And each one of +them has a history, goes back at least to the last generation or two of +the old regime. + +They are all woven together in a complicated pattern of reality; but +without all of them--and this is the important point--you would not +have a Reign of Terror, would not have a full crisis in the revolution. +The problem of their possible independence need not worry us. +Temperature and pressure are independent variables in the mathematical +formulation of the laws of thermodynamics; but ice can form at 0° +centigrade only if the pressure is negligibly small. We have already +stressed this point, perhaps beyond the bounds of good writing. But +the old notion of simple, linear, one-way causation is so rooted in +our habits of thought, is indeed so useful to us in daily life, that +we almost instinctively demand an explanation of a complex situation +like the Terror which will enable us to isolate a villain-cause--or a +hero-cause. + +First, there is what we may call the habit of violence, the paradoxical +situation of a people conditioned to expect the unexpected. The more +violent and terroristic periods of our revolutions come only after a +series of troubles have prepared the way. Not until after several years +of civil war in England did the Independents carry out their rigorous +measures against the habitual ways of “Merrie England.” The Terror in +France in a formal sense does not begin until late in 1793; sporadic +outbreaks like the Great Fear of 1789 and the September Massacres of +1792 simply help to establish the mood necessary for a Terror. Even in +Russia, where events were telescoped together in a shorter period than +in any of our other revolutions, organized violence under the patronage +of the government does not clearly appear until the autumn of 1918, a +year and a half after the outbreak against the Czar. A telegram from +Petrovsky to all soviets is quoted by Mr. Chamberlin, who sees in this +the signal for organized Terror. “Last of all, the rear of our armies +must be finally cleared of all White Guardism and all scoundrelly +conspirators against the power of the working class and the poorest +peasants. Not the least wavering, not the least indecision in the +application of mass terror.” + +This telegram brings forward a second and most important variable--the +pressure of a foreign and civil war. War necessities help explain the +rapid centralization of the government of the Terror, the hostility to +dissenters within the group--they now seem deserters--the widespread +excitement which our generation knows well enough by the cant term “war +psychosis.” Both in France and in Russia there is a rough correlation +between the military situation of the revolutionary armies and the +violence of the Terror; as the danger of defeat grows, so does the +number of victims of revolutionary tribunals. There is, however, a +certain lag, and the Terror continues after the worst of the military +danger is over. We may again recall that in England the Irish and the +Scotch fulfilled the function of the foreign enemy, even though Great +Britain kept free of the continent during the whole period. And both in +America and in England the crisis period was accompanied by a formal +war, largely a civil war. No sensible person would wish to deny the +important place these wars have in the total situation we have called +the crisis period. + +Third, there is the newness of the machinery of this centralized +government. The extremists are certainly not--and we have already +emphasized this point--altogether without experience in handling men, +though they have dealt with _revolutionists_, not with _all men_. +Their long apprenticeship in the cause of the revolution has been +a political training of a sort. And in many ways their new network +of institutions is able to use some of the routine channels used by +the old government. This is especially true in local government. +Nevertheless, it is certainly true that the institutions of the +Terror are in a sense new, that they do not work smoothly, that those +charged with administering them, even if they are not politically +inexperienced, are administratively inexperienced. The machinery of the +Terror works in fits and starts, and frequently jams badly. Conflicts +between administrators arise, and are settled in no routine manner, but +by violence. Each failure of the machine annoys those who are trying to +run it, and impels them to a new and sudden decision, to another act of +violence. This in turn further jams the machinery. It is our old friend +the vicious circle. + +Fourth, this is also a time of acute economic crisis--not merely what +we now call a depression, but a definite shortage of the necessities of +life. Again it must be recalled that the Terror does not come at once, +in the very beginning of the revolution, but is preceded by a time +of troubles very disrupting to the ordinary processes of production. +Capital gets frightened and begins to leave the country. Business +men hesitate to undertake new enterprises or to continue on the same +basis with the old. Peasant risings lessen agricultural production. +Then comes the war with its demand for men and munitions. The ensuing +dictatorship of the victorious extremists is in part an economic +dictatorship, a supervision of the whole economic life of the country, +controlled currency, price-fixing, food-rationing, a socialism of the +fact long before Marx. The difficulty of distributing inadequate +supplies further tries the temper of administrators, adds to the +opportunities of denunciators and spies, serves to maintain and sharpen +the peculiar excitement, the universal jumpiness of the Terror. It adds +to the tenseness of the class struggles which we have already discerned +in our study of the old regimes. + +In one form or another our fifth variable, class struggles, clearly +appears in the crises of all our revolutions. The hatred of Puritan for +Cavalier, of Jacobin for aristocrats, Federalists, and other enemies of +the Republic of Virtue, the hatred of Bolsheviks for Whites, Kadets and +compromisists, of American Whigs for Tories, was in itself an elaborate +compound. One element in this compound was probably about what the +Marxist means when he talks about the class struggle. At any rate, by +the time of the Terror the different antagonistic groups within the +society have polarized into the orthodox revolutionists in power and +the somewhat mixed bloc of their enemies. Heightened like all other +tensions and conflicts by the course of the revolution, these class +antagonisms now take on a sharpness they normally possess only in the +writings and speeches of intellectuals and agitators. The party spirit, +which is in one element probably but one form of the antagonism between +classes, here seizes upon the most trivial symbols to make men aware +of their irreconciliable differences. Thus the Jacobins adopted the +term “sans-culottes” as a rallying cry to emphasize the class struggle. +The culottes are the knee-breeches of the silk-stockinged gentlemen of +the old regime, and those without _culottes_ presumably wore the long +trousers of the common man, the workingman. The Russian revolution was +filled with the slogans of the class struggle in the narrow Marxist +sense. Now though there was much more than class struggles in our +revolutions, and though these struggles are not quite as simply +determined as many believers in the economic interpretation of history +sometimes make out, it would be very foolish to deny the importance of +one of the variables in the Terror--those antagonisms between groups or +“classes” largely held together by economic interests and by a common +social and intellectual heritage, a common way of life, which our +generation knows as the class struggle. + +Our sixth variable is even more obviously than the others an +abstraction, a presumably useful way of gathering together a great +number of concrete facts. It is not logically on an exact level +with our other variables, and would not fit into a nice series of +philosophical categories. This is a variable based on observation of +the behavior of the relatively small group of leaders formed during the +revolution and now in control of the government of the Terror. Much +of their behavior is affected, like the behavior of their followers +and fellow-citizens, by the other variables in our list, and no doubt +by much that has escaped us. But some very important elements in +their behavior depend on the fact that they are leaders, that they +have gone through a certain apprenticeship in revolutionary tactics, +that they have been selected, almost in a Darwinian sense, for their +ability to manipulate an extremist revolutionary group. This does +not mean that they are necessarily or even usually “impractical” +men, “theoreticians,” “metaphysicians,” or any other of the names +simple critics like Taine invented for them. It does mean that they +are not formed for compromise, for the dull expedients of politics +in unexcited, relatively stable societies. It does mean that they +are formed to push on to extremes, to use their special influence +to heighten the already high tension of life in society. Like all +politicians, they have learned the skills necessary for success in +their trade; they have come to feel their trade is something like a +game, as indeed it is; but they are reckless players, apt to play to +the gallery, and always trying for a home run. No good revolutionary +leader would ever bunt. Moreover, they are at least as jealous of one +another as, to use another comparison, actors, and each one must always +try for the center of the stage. What in more ordinary times has been +lately no more than a conventional struggle for power among politicians +is thus in the crisis period of revolutions stepped up to a murderous +intensity. + +Finally, there is the variable we have dwelt upon at length in an +earlier part of this chapter. This is the element of religious faith +shared by Independents, Jacobins, Bolsheviks. We need not here repeat +what we have just written about the religious aspect of the Reigns of +Terror. But it is this element that makes the Reigns of Terror also +Reigns of Virtue, heroic attempts to close once for all the gap between +human nature and human aspirations. This is but one of the variables, +but it is a very important one. Religious aims and emotions help to +differentiate the crises of our revolutions from ordinary military or +economic crises, and to give to the Reigns of Terror and Virtue their +extraordinary mixture of spiritual fury, of exaltation, of devotion and +self-sacrifice, of cruelty, madness and high-grade humbug. + +Now all these elements are in constant interaction one with another, +a change in one effecting complex corresponding changes in all the +others, and hence in the total situation. We must not think of them in +terms of horse and cart, or chicken and egg, or of one billiard ball +hitting another. It is instead as complicated and mad a chase as we +conceive that of the molecules in a physico-chemical system. Thus the +stresses and strains of the early stages of our revolutions make it +easier to work the nation into war--witness the war-provoking Girondins +in France--and the war itself increases the stresses, accustoms people +to violence and suspense. War makes for economic scarcity and economic +scarcity sharpens the class struggle, and so on in a merry round-robin. +All these effects, up to the end of the crisis period, are cumulative. +Each old habit sloughed off, each definite break with the past at once +invites others and increases the strain upon everybody, or nearly +everybody, in the social system. + +For it would seem to be an observable fact of human behavior that +large numbers of men can stand only so much interference with the +routines and rituals of their daily existence. It would also seem that +most men cannot long stand the strain of prolonged effort to live in +accordance with very high ideals. The outsider in the crisis period +is pushed to the limit of his endurance by interference with some of +his most prized and intimate routines; the insider is held to a pitch +of spiritual effort and excitement beyond his powers of endurance. +For both sorts of men there would seem to be a limit to their social +action as real as the limit a chemist finds for a chemical reaction. +Human beings can go only so far and so long under the stimulus of an +ideal. Social systems composed of human beings can endure for but a +limited time the concerted attempt to bring heaven to earth which we +call the Reign of Terror and Virtue. Thermidor comes as naturally to +societies in revolution as an ebbing tide, as calm after a storm, as +convalescence after fever, as the snapping-back of a stretched elastic +band. Such figures of speech, taken from established uniformities in +the physical world, seem to impose themselves. Perhaps, in spite of the +efforts of philosophers, theologians, moralists, political theorists, +social scientists, and a good many other inspired thinkers in the last +two thousand years, social systems are still almost as perversely +unaffected by revolutionary good intentions as tides or rubber bands. + + + + +_Chapter_ EIGHT THERMIDOR + + +_I. Universality of the Thermidorean Reaction_ + +As we have had to note in earlier attempts to fit our four revolutions +into our conceptual scheme, this fitting cannot be done with finicky +exactness. It is quite impossible to say that the crisis of a given +revolution ended at 4:03 P.M. on August 6th of a given year. France +does indeed furnish us with an instance almost as precise as this. The +end of the crisis in France may be dated from the fall of Robespierre +on July 27, 1794, or on the ninth Thermidor, year II of the poetic +new French calendar. The ensuing slow and uneven return to quieter, +less heroic times has long been known to French historians as the +Thermidorean reaction. The Marxists, and especially the Trotskyites, +have recently been applying the word to the Russian revolution, so +that we may adopt it, as we did “old regime,” as a term in general +acceptance. All our revolutions had their Thermidors, though in no two +were the sequence of events, the time schedules, the ups and downs of +daily life, anything like identical. + +In terms of our conceptual scheme, we shall have to call Thermidor +a convalescence from the fever of revolution, even though +“convalescence” suggests something nice, and seems therefore to be a +way of praising the Thermidorean reaction. We can but repeat previous +assertions that no such eulogistic sense is here intended. We continue +to try to discover first approximations of uniformities in phenomena we +mean neither to praise nor to blame, neither to cherish nor to damn. + +In England the beginning of the Thermidorean period, the convalescence, +is not to be put with any preciseness. The year or so following +the execution of Charles I represents the height of the crisis in +England, and as long as the Rump sat some strong flavor of revolution +remained. Perhaps the best date for the English Thermidor is Cromwell’s +dissolution of the Rump on April 20, 1653, when the great general made +some celebrated and un-English remarks about the resemblance between +the mace and a jester’s staff. With Cromwell installed as Protector +under the “instrument of Government” of 1653--the English actually did +indulge themselves once in a written constitution--Thermidor may be +said to be well on its way. In 1657 Cromwell became Lord Protector, +half a king at least, and with the restoration of the Stuarts in 1660 +the great English revolution may be said to end. + +The fall of Robespierre in France had been brought about largely by a +conspiracy among outwardly orthodox Jacobin deputies to the Convention, +men for the most part seriously involved in war-profiteering, +parliamentary corruption, stock speculation and other activities +unworthy of citizens of the Republic of Virtue. Fear of the +“Incorruptible” Robespierre seems to have been one of the main reasons +for their action. They were successful, not unaided by Robespierre’s +lack of political wisdom. The Thermidoreans themselves had apparently +not intended to end the Terror; the guillotining of Robespierre was +just another in a long list of revolutionary guillotinings to which +they had now become well accustomed. But for once public opinion got +to work, and Frenchmen made it clear that they were through with the +“tigers athirst for blood.” The reaction continued at a fairly steady +rate for some years, both under the declining Convention and the new +government of the Directory. There were definite relapses, as one might +expect in a convalescence. Especially in the summer of 1799, after +French defeats abroad, there was a striking revival of Jacobinism. +The clubs re-opened, and the good old slogans resounded once more in +public halls, in cafes, and on street corners. A few months later +Napoleon Bonaparte had achieved his _coup d’état_ of the 18th Brumaire, +and the French convalescence was nearly over. The actual restoration +of the Bourbons in 1814 is hardly a part of the course of revolution +in France. It was rather an accident, a consequence of such purely +personal factors as Napoleon’s megalomaniac insistence on fighting all +Europe to the bitter end in 1813-14, Talleyrand’s knack for calling the +turn, and the good intentions of Alexander I of Russia. + +The Russian revolution may perhaps in a sense be still going on. The +Trotskyites hold that Stalin and his crowd are Thermidoreans, and +that _this_ Russian revolution, at any rate, is pretty well over. +Complete detachment in such matters is certainly difficult at this +moment. But it does seem clear that the crisis period in Russia is +over, that at most Russia is now in a rather long and disturbed +convalescence from the fever of revolution. We may perhaps regard the +period of war communism, 1917-21, as the first and main crisis of +the Russian revolution. With the New Economic Policy of 1921 began +Russia’s Thermidor. Lenin’s death and the subsequent rivalry between +Stalin and Trotsky led up to a second crisis, or rather relapse during +convalescence, which we may date at the more acute periods of violent +enforcement of the first Five Year Plan. But as many an observer has +noted, this secondary crisis lacked the hopeful idealism of the first, +lacked its improvisations and its adventures, lacked its active foreign +and White Guard enemies, and looks from even our brief historical +perspective much like characteristic acts of the “tyrants” who came to +power during other Thermidors--the Cromwellian settlement of Ireland, +for instance, or the Napoleonic enforcement of the Continental System. +Since 1933, this second crisis has been rapidly abating, and at present +evidences of reaction in Russia abound. + + +_II. Amnesty and Repression_ + +Politically the most striking uniformity to be noted in the period of +convalescence is the ultimate establishment of a “tyrant” in something +like the old Greek sense of the word, an unconstitutional ruler brought +to power by revolution or _stasis_. This uniformity has been frequently +noted: Cromwell, Bonaparte, Stalin, all seem to confirm it. Indeed, in +the Federalist period in the United States there were Jeffersonians +ungrateful enough to suggest that Washington was a perfectly good +example of the tyrant born of revolution. There is nothing very +puzzling about the phenomenon. After a revolution has undergone the +crisis and the accompanying centralization of power, some strong leader +must handle that centralized power when the mad religious energy of the +crisis period has burned itself out. Dictatorships and revolutions are +inevitably closely associated, because revolutions to a certain extent +break down, or at least weaken, laws, customs, habits, beliefs which +bind men together in society; and when laws, customs, habits, beliefs +tie men together insufficiently, force must be used to remedy that +insufficiency. Military force is for short terms the most efficient +kind of force available for social and political uses, and military +force demands a hierarchy of obedience culminating in a generalissimo. +Polybius has here some appropriate remarks about the military virtues +of Republican Rome. All this, however, is pretty much a commonplace of +our times. + +The rule of one man does not come immediately with the Thermidorean +reaction. Even Cromwell, the earliest established of the three, did not +become uncontested ruler with the dissolution of the Rump. The reaction +to the crisis is at first slow and uncertain. The habit of violence is +by now thoroughly established. There is left from the crisis a tendency +to dramatic steps and whole-hog measures. Even sober and peace-loving +men have moments of excited relapses to the jitters of the Terror. Seen +in this light, the recent Moscow purges and trials are no indication +that the Russian revolution has had an unusually long life, that it +fails to fit our pattern. These melodramatic displays are no more +than the expected aftermath of revolution in a land and among peoples +unblessed with Magna Carta, Blackstone, and Gilbert and Sullivan. + +As time goes on, the pressures the Terror applied to ordinary men are +relaxed: the special tribunals give place to more regular ones, the +revolutionary police are absorbed into the regular police--which are +not necessarily the equivalent of London bobbies; they may be agents of +the OGPU--and the block, guillotine or firing-squad are reserved for +the more dramatic criminals. It is not, of course, that political life +shortly assumes the idyllic stability some of our own contemporaries +like to describe as the Rule of Law, and which, one suspects, was +never quite as nice as appears in their books--not even in staid +nineteenth-century England, or in the thirteenth century where St. +Thomas lived so pleasantly. The taste and habit of political violence +lives on in _coups d’état_, in purges, in well-staged trials. But +John Jones, Jacques Duval, Ivan Ivanovich, the man in the street, is +no longer included in the cast--he is now left to his normal role of +spectator or supernumerary. + +Gradually, too, the politically proscribed are amnestied, and come +back, sometimes to be caught up again in the scramble of competitive +politics; sometimes to become part of that staff of modern life, the +bureaucracy; sometimes to live quietly as private citizens. The process +is naturally the reverse of the process in which these men and women +had been driven out. They go from Right to Left, and come back from +Left to Right--first the almost pure radicals, then the moderates, +then moderate conservatives, until the final restoration brings back +remnants of the old gang. Such at least was the process in France and +in England. After 1653, the Presbyterians took heart and began to +emerge into politics, followed by the more moderate Episcopalians and +Royalists, until in 1660 the Stuarts and their courtiers returned. +In France the succession was very exact and ratified by formal bills +of amnesty: first the Girondins--those who had survived--came back, +while tears were shed over, and monuments erected to, the innocent +victims of the bloodthirsty tiger Robespierre; then the Feuillants, the +Lafayette-Lameth crowd; then the out-and-out Royalists and such-like +_émigrés_, whom Napoleon, however, was able to control fairly well; +then finally, in 1814, the Bourbons themselves. + +So far the Romanovs have not returned to Russia, and only a very rash +prophet would prophesy their ultimate return, or indeed any kind +of formal restoration of hereditary monarchy. We must not ask our +revolutions to make too neat a picture. It is clear, however, that save +for the final monarchical restoration, the process we have outlined +above has been going on slowly in Russia, at least since Lenin’s death. +Even the aristocrats can go back if they make the proper submission +and get the proper publicity--which was true of Napoleonic France. As +for the numerous variants of revolutionary belief, it is clear that +gathered around Stalin today are many men who were far from orthodox +in 1917. Even the sainted Gorki was what in France would be called a +_rallié_, a man who rallied to the Communist regime only after the +worst of the Terror was safely over. On the other hand, almost all the +old Bolsheviks, the men who ruled Russia in the period of crisis, have +by now been liquidated. Stalin in 1938 can hardly make any direct human +contact with his revolutionary past. + +The personnel of government in the Thermidorean period and in the +new-old regime that finally emerges from the revolution is likely +to be varied in origin. Napoleon was served by old aristocrats of +the _noblesse d’épée_, by bureaucrats trained in the old regime, by +Fayettists, by Girondins and even by a few once-violent Jacobins. Of +men like Albemarle, Shaftesbury, and Downing, who stood high in the +government of Charles II after his restoration, it has been written: +“They were of the same school as Blake and Vane; they represented the +most solid political attainments of the Cromwellian party.” Downing’s +career is an especially good example of how men of ability and a +certain moral elasticity can traverse revolutions. He was graduated +from Harvard in 1642, and went to England at the happy moment of +Puritan supremacy. He soon rose high in the ranks of the Cromwellians, +devoting his talents especially to diplomacy. He contrived to turn his +coat at just the right time, and was accepted in the service of the +new king. It is from this early and somewhat atypical Harvard man that +Downing Street in London takes its name. Even in Russia, though by now +old Bolsheviks are almost completely weeded out of the very highest +councils, there are undoubtedly many of them, their fires well banked, +in the great new bureaucracy. + +The new governing classes in all our societies are then a very +miscellaneous lot, with very little in common as regards social +origins, education, and earlier party affiliations. They have in common +a certain adaptability. They have survived a rigorous if somewhat +arbitrary selection. They seem, after the heroes of the Terror, tame +and unenterprising in many ways. But they usually do a pretty good job +in getting institutions, laws, routines, all the necessary standard +ways of doing things, once more working. + +Along with amnesty to former moderates there goes on a reverse process +of repression and persecution of unrepentant revolutionists of all +sorts. The further the reaction moves to the Right, the wider its +definition of revolutionists to be duly restrained as suitable reaction +against the honors of the Reign of Terror. The Thermidoreans themselves +are by no means unwilling to apply terroristic methods in the proper +direction. The White Terrors are as real as the Red. Even in England, +the well-known Clarendon Code of the Restoration conforms closely +enough to the general pattern of repression later carried out in France +and in Russia. The clever and unprincipled extremist is almost always +able to weather the White Terror--witness Fouché again. It is only the +convinced and persistent extremists who suffer. + +As for the more active and violent leaders of the original Terror, +they are of course eliminated, either by exile or by death. They are +now declared to have been fanatics, villains, bloodthirsty tyrants, +scoundrels. They become very convenient scapegoats, explanations of +the difficulties the new regime has getting things settled. If there +is one very dramatic scapegoat, and he is already dead, so much the +better. Cromwell’s body was dug up after the Stuart Restoration and +hanged at Tyburn, along with Ireton’s and Bradshaw’s. He became a +tyrant, an ogre, a blasphemer, and so remained on the whole until +in the nineteenth century Carlyle started the rehabilitation which +has made him a hero. Except for a small sect led by the late Albert +Mathiez, Robespierre has never recovered the status of hero. The +Thermidoreans made Robespierre a prime scapegoat, the leader of the +gang of terrorists, a vain and capricious tyrant, a bloody villain. +Lenin, of course, died a saint, but fortunately for Stalin Trotsky made +a grand scapegoat. Recent events have shown that in this respect Russia +is still in its Thermidorean period, and the process of finding big and +little scapegoats seems to be going on merrily in that country. + +The lift of the ideal has gone by now. The new ruling class settles +down to do as good a job as it can. But it clearly intends also to +enjoy life, to possess the privileges and wealth a ruling class has +hitherto always had. This new ruling class is certainly not going to +try to achieve Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, for everyone in the +society. It is quite content with the stratification which has worked +itself out during the revolution. It will settle its own internal +conflicts as far as it can, in the traditional way of ruling classes. +There will be none of the dangerous direct appeals to the people, no +risks of great popular uprisings. We have already noted how as the +crisis period approaches the people come less and less into active +politics, how the extremists reach power through what is no more than +a _coup d’état_. With the Thermidoreans this process continues, until +the political changes, the transfers of power during this period--and +they are numerous, and by no means altogether regular and orderly--are +hardly more than palace revolutions. When all is quiet and safe the +victors will risk a plebiscite. Appearances have to be kept up, and a +certain number of stereotypes about the will of the people have by now +got fairly well established in the mind of John Jones. + +John Jones may well be somewhat tired of political turmoil. But he is +certainly not in the Thermidorean period in a generally prosperous +condition. One of the most striking uniformities we can discern in this +period is that, notably in France and Russia, but to a certain extent +also in the England of the 1650’s and the America of the Articles of +Confederation, there was more widespread economic suffering, especially +among the poorest classes, than during the Terror, or during the last +years of the old regime. When the Thermidoreans in France abandoned +price-fixing and food-rationing, prices rocketed, paper money went on +its classic decline, and the poor were left in a very bad way. There +seems to be a general agreement that there was more actual suffering in +France in the winters of 1795 and 1796 than at any other time in the +revolutionary era. Yet save for a few pathetic bread riots at Paris and +in some of the large cities, riots easily put down by the government, +nothing happened. Similarly in Russia, there seems to be no doubt that +the liquidation of the _kulaks_ and the great famine during the first +Five Year Plan brought a greater toll of death and misery than even the +period of war communism. Possibly the explanation of the failure of +this suffering to produce a rising is that suffering is not in itself +a spur to effective revolt; perhaps it is merely that the new ruling +class in Thermidor can and does use force with an effectiveness the +old ruling class did not command; perhaps it is also that by Thermidor +the great mass of people neither rich nor poor, not at any rate quite +on the margin of existence, is worn out, exhausted, fed up with the +experiences of the crusade for the Republic of Virtue. + +The lift of the ideal has also gone out of the wars the revolutionists +have been waging to spread their gospel. It is doubtless true that +these wars were never wholly devoted to the spreading of this gospel, +and certainly the catchwords of the gospel continue to be used long +after the heroic period of the crisis. But aggressive nationalism +gradually supplants the missionary spirit, a Messianic crusade +gradually becomes clearly a war of conquest. Cromwell turned English +energies to the reconquest of Ireland and then to the re-establishment +of English prestige abroad. The seizure of Jamaica is a little thing +if compared with Napoleon’s conquests, but it is cut from the same +sociological pattern. With Sexby and Blake in earlier years, patriotism +had taken the form of wishing to make all Europe republican; by the +middle of the decade of the fifties, English patriotism had returned +to more normal channels. That under the Directory and Napoleon French +nationalism conformed to the pattern we have sketched above should be +clear even to the idolaters of Napoleon. + +In Russia in the early days of the revolution nationalism in the +aggressive sense was virtuously abandoned according to the best +tenets of Marx; in the purely cultural sense nationalism became the +prized basis of soviet federalism. To many admirers of the Russian +revolution it will not be at all clear that Russia has also conformed +to our pattern, has fitted in with the uniformity by which Messianic +revolutionary proselyting in other lands becomes the aggressive +nationalism with which we are familiar. The skeptical can only reply +that the boasted federal equality of the national groups within the +Soviet Union has not proved incompatible with practical domination by +the Great Russians, though unquestionably the Soviet government has +been in most respects more “liberal” towards the other national groups +than was Czarist Russia, and more successful in integrating them into +the larger unity of the U.S.S.R. But more important for our purposes +is the clear reappearance of ordinary nationalism in Stalin’s Russia. +This has not yet taken the aggressive forms French nationalism took +under Napoleon, largely because the present international situation +of Russia is very different from that of France at the end of the +eighteenth century. But evidence of the existence of a strong national +spirit in contemporary Russia is abundant; it can be found in the +abandonment of the attempt to foment revolution in other countries, and +a return to the policy of nationalistic alliances, in the deliberate +encouragement of the patriotic study of Russian history, in the tone of +the Russian press, in all phases of Russian cultural life. Of course +the nice Marxist internationalist slogans are still repeated. Napoleon, +“Child and Champion of Jacobinism,” also made abundant and effective +use even of such compromising revolutionary terms as “Liberty, +Equality, and Fraternity.” But he did not fool all his contemporaries, +and he certainly ought not to fool historians. + + +_III. Return of the Church_ + +The position of the recognized religions of the old regimes is one of +the very best indicators of the nature and extent of these Thermidorean +reactions. We saw in the last chapter that the extremists had developed +what we had to call a religion of their own, an active, crusading, +intolerant faith that sent its devotees storming the gates of heaven +on earth. Naturally enough during their supremacy the extremists +persecuted the old established faiths, Catholic and Protestant +alike. The English Independents persecuted papists, prelatists, and +Presbyterians with a zeal perhaps diminishing in that order. In France +the Catholic Church had been long a target for the _philosophes_. The +victorious Jacobins were not altogether of one mind either as to the +treatment of the Catholic Church or as to just what sort of substitute +might be desirable. Cults of Reason, of the Fatherland, of the Supreme +Being, all had their advocates. Most of them could agree on banning +the non-juring Catholics who were loyal to the Pope. At the height of +the Terror the most violent “dechristianizers” had their way in some +regions, destroying or defacing churches, guillotining or banishing +priests, staging burlesques of Catholic ceremonials. Fouché at Nevers +caused to be inscribed over the gate of the cemetery the confident +assertion: _Death is an eternal Sleep_. + +The Bolsheviks were brought up in a hatred for the Greek Orthodox +Church at least as violent as that which the Jacobins felt for the +Roman Catholic. They had a firm belief, nourished by much repetition, +that religion is “the opium of the people.” They thought of themselves +as men of science and hence atheists. Once in power the Bolsheviks +began an active campaign against the churches, though especially in +the early days of war communism they had a good deal else to do, and +left the clergy to struggle along by itself. There were the usual +acts of violence against persons of the clergy and against the church +buildings, shutting of the monasteries, and so on. Priests were of +course classed in the non-productive group, and suffered more than +other men from lack of food during the great scarcity. Yet one gets the +impression that in Russia sheer terrorism directed against organized +Christianity was not quite as intense as it had been in France. The +Bolsheviks had a great belief in the power of proper education, and +planned from the first a state monopoly which should insure the young +against exposure to the danger of infection with Christian notions. +For adults the government trusted in anti-religious propaganda, in +museums exposing the fakes and horrors of the old religion, and in +the general spread of enlightenment and desire for the good things +of this world. The “League of the Militant Godless” was formed with +government support, the presses and the artists got to work on posters, +the newspapers went enthusiastically into this relatively safe pursuit, +and for a while in the 1920’s foreign observers might not unreasonably +report that Christianity in Russia seemed well on the way to extinction. + +No such confident conclusion seems safe in 1938. It is very difficult +indeed to get trustworthy information on the present status of +organized Christianity in Russia. On this subject, even more than on +most subjects, Westerners traveling in Russia find what they want to +find. But it does seem definitely established that now after twenty +years of Bolshevik supremacy Christianity has not been wiped out in +Russia, is not even limited to older people brought up before the +revolution. The League of the Militant Godless announced in 1930 +that the government had closed only 3,380 out of the 50,000 churches +of Czarist Russia. At the tenth anniversary meeting of the League, +the president stated that 50 per cent of Russian youth were still +Christian. In 1936 the League complained that priests in various +parts of Russia have cleverly adapted themselves to Communism, have +insinuated themselves into the collective farms, have taken to +appearing at trade-union meetings. A recent Catholic traveler reported +in the Commonweal that in a conducted tour he was not shown any of the +famous “atheist museums” and that on inquiry he found that the whole +business of anti-Christian propaganda was being very much soft-pedaled. + +On every hand one finds bits of evidence all pointing to the same +conclusion: under the Thermidorean rule of Stalin, the Orthodox Church +is gradually coming back into a recognized and secure position +in Russian life. This is not to say that the Militant Godless are +not still active, nor that they will in their turn find themselves +persecuted. Nor is it to assert that the Orthodox Church is today +exactly what it was in the days of the Czars. On the contrary, it +is evident that its clergy, once known for their conservatism and +inaction, have been stirred to a real effort of adaptation to new +circumstances. But it does mean that the rites of the church still go +on in a Russia no longer perhaps exactly the Holy Russia of old, but by +no means cut off from an institution identified with a thousand years +of her history. + +In France the reconciliation of the Thermidoreans and the old +church went on so rapidly that within less than a decade from the +“dechristianizing” movement of the Terror Napoleon could sign a +Concordat with the Pope which officially re-established Roman +Catholicism as the State Church of France. During the worst of the +Terror, Catholics in France had had to hold their services in secret, +in spite of the fact that freedom of worship was guaranteed by law. +With the fall of Robespierre they began to risk public services in +the buildings still spared them. As more and more moderates were +amnestied, the government became more and more friendly, and the last +four years of the eighteenth century saw France with complete religious +freedom and with almost complete separation of Church and State. +Napoleon and many of the new ruling class felt the need of winning the +Catholics over completely, and the formal Concordat was negotiated. +The re-established Catholic Church was not, however, in exactly the +same legal position as under the old regime, when it had been the sole +recognized faith. Protestants and Jews were by the new laws given equal +status with the Catholics. + +Organized Christianity does not enter in the same way into the +American revolution. In England, however, there is a striking +similarity to the broad lines of development in France and Russia. The +established faith of the old regime was the Church of England, in many +ways, liturgically, theologically, governmentally, not very far removed +from the Catholic tradition. The new revolutionary faith was Calvinism +in its various forms, of which the Independent finally triumphed. +Under Independent rule the Anglican worship, and indeed rival forms of +Calvinist worship, were kept down. On paper, at least, this religious +persecution was even more violent than that in France and in Russia. +The disputants in the pamphlet warfare among the sects were learned +men with abundant vocabularies and firm convictions. On the other +hand, save in Ireland, there was rather less violence and bloodshed in +immediately religious quarrels during the English revolution than in +those of France and Russia. With the repressing of the more radical +sects, and especially the Quakers, the swing back begins in England. In +the later years of Cromwell Presbyterians and even Anglicans reasserted +themselves in public life and carried on their religious services in +virtual freedom. When Charles II came back the Church of England was +re-established in very nearly its old prestige and privileges, and the +cycle took its usual form with the persecution of the sects that had +made the revolution. + +The history of the accepted religious faiths of the old regimes is +then one of the very clearest uniformities our study of revolutions +affords. One might almost make a graph, in which the prestige of the +old organized faith might be seen to follow a fairly regular curve, +lowest at the worst of the Terror, gradually climbing back during the +Thermidorean reaction to a position almost as high as that from which +it had started in the old regime. Such a graph would be deceptively +simple, especially if its interpretation involved the notion that the +restored church was exactly its old self once more. Neither men nor +institutions pass through the crisis of revolution unchanged. The +priests who had undergone persecution were never afterwards the same +men who had once enjoyed the security of the old regime, any more than +the _émigrés_ who returned from exile were the same men who had once +been unchallenged members of a ruling class. We shall later consider +the transformation of institutions apparently restored after the +revolution. Here we may say a word about the _émigré_ priests, nobles, +rich men, whose return to public life is one of the characteristic +phenomena of Thermidor. + +It would be most satisfying morally to conclude that the old clergy +return purified and strengthened by the test of persecution and exile, +that the old rulers return chastened and wise. But no such conclusion +seems possible. There are exceptions, like the Duc de Richelieu, who +had learned moderation and the art of ruling men during his long exile +in Russia, and who returned to serve Louis XVIII faithfully but well. +In general, however, the religious as well as the moral and political +sentiments and ideas of the _émigrés_ are narrowed, intensified, +strained into complete unpliability by the bitterness of their lot. +The Catholicism of Joseph de Maistre has a rigidity and harshness not +common in the faith into which he had grown up during the old regime. + +For only in the world of the Alger books is adversity always a good +teacher. In the world into which the English Royalists, the French and +Russian _émigrés_, were thrust, adversity on the whole taught romantic +and unquestioning acceptance of loyalties which they thought were old, +but which were really new and high-powered abstractions drawn from +their recent experiences in the arena. They returned having forgotten +much and having learned a great deal--mostly knowledge neither useful +nor realistic. This whole subject of what happens to the _émigrés_ and +to the defeated, cowed moderates, is a fascinating one, and one which +deserves to be further studied by competent persons. In spite of much +good research at the level of narrative history, it remains one of the +most obscure parts of the sociology of revolution. But in any case the +returned _émigrés_ do not have the field to themselves, do not by any +means determine the final course of the reaction to the revolution. +Even in England in 1660 and in France in 1814, the more extreme among +the returned _émigrés_ did not get things done as they wanted them. The +Downings and the Albemarles, the Talleyrands and the Fouchés, the men +on the scene, had got much too far ahead of them. + + +_IV. The Search for Pleasure_ + +The full flavor of the Thermidorean reaction is reserved for the social +historian. In the dress, amusements, in the petty details of the +daily lives of ordinary men and women, the full extent of the popular +abandonment of the Republic of Virtue becomes clear. So marked is this +let-down that even the historian feels it, and most nineteenth-century +liberal historians hardly concealed their disgust and disappointment +when they came to record the indecent pleasures of the English +Restoration or of the French Directory. The austerities of the good +life according to Calvin or Robespierre seemed a noble standard, a goal +towards which men might struggle with a heroism that adorns a work +of history. The doings of a society in which a Nell Gwyn or a Teresa +de Cabarrus were apparently the most important actors could hardly +be edifying to anybody, and could be made instructive only with the +addition of proper sermonizing. Scandal writers, romantic biographers, +and other purveyors to a corrupt public taste have of course fallen +with delight on the ripe tidbits of the Thermidors, but the high-minded +men who write serious history have passed by these periods holding +their hands to their noses. From one source or another, however, we can +find what we need to know about the social history of our societies +in this particular phase of revolution. We shall try to avoid being +shocked or titillated, and to see how the obvious moral looseness of +the Thermidorean reactions fits in with the uniformities we have been +working out. But first for a brief review of the facts. + +Within a few days of the guillotining of Robespierre and his more +conspicuous followers Parisians began to indulge publicly and with +gusto in a whole series of pleasures denied them during the tension of +the Terror. Politicians may have thought that “Terror will not cease +to be the order of the day until the last enemies of the Republic have +perished,” but ordinary men and women for once imposed their obvious +wants and needs directly on the politicians. One gets the impression +that few phenomena in the course of the French revolution were more +genuinely “popular” and “spontaneous” than the revulsion from the +restraints of the Terror. The people of Paris took Robespierre’s death +as a signal that the lid was off. + +Dance halls were opened up all over Paris, prostitutes began operating +“with their former audacity” (to quote a police report), well-dressed +prosperous young men most unrepublicanly drunk began running about and +cracking dour, virtuous Republicans over the head. These young men were +the famous _jeunesse dorée_, a gilded youth with no illusions about +a Republic of Virtue, and which would nowadays certainly be labeled +Fascist at once. Both male and female costume had during the crisis +period tended towards sobriety, the women being wrapped in flowing +Roman robes and in more than Roman virtue. Now all was changed. The +men’s clothes became extremely foppish, with tight trousers, elaborate +waistcoats, and stocks that mounted beyond the chin. The women’s +dressmakers were still classically inspired, but with a sure erotic +sense they concentrated their efforts on the skillful revealing of the +breasts. The _costume directoire_ is an excellent symbol of the period. + +With the abandonment of price-fixing and in the inflation which +followed, a class of newly rich speculators, war profiteers and +clever politicians arose. Parliamentary scandals do indeed crop up +in earlier periods of the revolutions, even in the crisis period. +Corruption can be pretty well proved for certain members of the +English Long Parliament and the French Convention even in their great +days. But in these earlier periods exposure was followed by swift and +sure punishment. Now, in Thermidor, no one seems to care very much +and certainly nothing is done. There is gossip, and in some quarters +indignation. But mostly politicians who grafted successfully were +admired, as they later were to be in the United States. + +Still jittery over the Terror, fearing its return, uncertain of their +wealth and position, often quite uneducated in the patrician arts, the +Thermidoreans spent their money freely and vulgarly. They gambled, they +raced horses and fought cocks, they were mad about dancing. All this +they did noisily and with little regard for the traditional decencies +of the eighteenth century. In these short years the real basis for +the romantic taste of nineteenth-century France was laid. The ladies +of the period are famous for their gaiety and abandon. Their leader +was Teresia de Cabarrus, once mistress of the corrupt representative +Tallien, and now his wife. She was universally known, in a phrase that +displays the cynicism of the age, as “Our Lady of Thermidor.” + +All of us know the age of Charles II as an extreme reaction from the +rule of the Saints. Restoration drama has, especially since Victorian +times, been a symbol for naughtiness, for the kind of play no nice +person could witness without blushing. Nell Gwyn has, in the national +memory, ruled in triumph over a court life in which vice was as +aristocratic as the most virtuous commoner could wish and suspect it +to be. As a matter of fact, the Puritan code of manners and morals was +never perfectly established, even in the years immediately following +the death of Charles I. The less public pleasures were always possible, +and prohibitions against horse-racing, bear-baiting, Christmas and +other heathen festivals were subject to the same kind of nullification +the Eighteenth Amendment received in this country. The very harshness +of some of the Puritan prohibitions was in itself an indication that +the Puritans were having a hard time getting all Englishmen to behave +in such a way that they would not “stink in the nostrils of the just.” + +Yet the Puritan rule was in fact harsh and rigid enough to give +non-Puritans plenty of grievances, and in its main lines the +Thermidorean reaction was as real in England as it was to be in France. +There was not in England the same mixture of _parvenus_ and tired and +lucky aristocrats as in France, and esthetically speaking the reaction +in England was on a much higher lever than that in France. But in the +frank return to the pleasures of the senses, to gambling, drinking, +dancing, open love-making, to a light and cynical literature, to a +frank joy in clothes and other vanities, the two countries present a +very close parallel. Nor was the English Restoration altogether without +a lushness of taste which chaster souls find offensive. Especially in +female costume the contrast to the sobrieties of the early period is +very striking. The ladies wore dresses of riotous and often conflicting +colors, put on towering lace headdresses, fantastic patches and +generous cosmetics on their faces, wore and displayed elaborately +brocaded petticoats. + +We need hardly labor this point about the loosening of moral restraints +in the Thermidorean period in England and in France. We shall have to +be more careful in establishing the facts about any such loosening +of moral restraints in Soviet Russia. Here the facts are certainly +not yet clear in the histories. Kindly and not very earthy souls like +the Webbs see in Russia today an orderly society, half-workshop and +half-nursery. Disillusioned radicals like Mr. Eugene Lyons see most of +the major public sins of capitalistic countries magnified among the +bureaucrats of Stalin’s gang, and the minor private vices, especially +those of ostentation and comfort-seeking, at least as common among +these bureaucrats as among our own corrupt middle classes. It does seem +reasonably clear that no such striking and rapid shift from the public +pursuit of virtue to the public pursuit of pleasure has taken place in +Russia as took place in France and in England. But again we must not +expect our uniformities to be suspiciously exact. In its broad lines, +the Russian Thermidor runs as true to form morally and socially as we +have seen it does politically. + +In the first place, Thermidor in Russia began in Lenin’s own lifetime, +with the coming of the New Economic Policy in 1921. Private property +and private trading were once more permitted in Russia. The new class +of entrepreneurs who rose out of this situation, the Nepmen, remind +one forcibly of the similar class of profiteers who rose in France +out of the abandonment of price-fixing after the fall of Robespierre. +They were never quite sure of their status, and they carried over +into their now legal activities a good many of the habits they had +acquired in their bootlegging days under the Terror. As a class, +they were “exceptionally vulgar, profiteering, crude, and noisy.” +In the next few years prostitution, gambling, and other un-Marxist +pleasures returned so obviously to Moscow and Leningrad that only the +most convinced of “fellow-travelers” were unable to see them. Most +foreigners in Russia since 1917 have perhaps been prevented from what +we may hopefully call the normal use of their eyesight less by the +activities of Communist officials entrusted with the task of guiding +foreigners than by their own strong religious conviction that all +must be well in the Marxist heaven. Yet until the Five Year Plan was +initiated, the return of the bourgeois vices was so obvious, especially +in the middle twenties, that even foreign Communists noticed the fact. + +Stalin’s apparent return to Communism in 1928-29 is really no more +significant than Napoleon’s apparent repudiation of the corruptness and +moral looseness of the Directory once he had achieved secure power by +the _coup d’état_ of the 18th Brumaire. There seems to be in all our +societies a certain reaction to the Thermidorean reaction, notably in +this matter of the public pursuit of pleasure. Men in great numbers can +no more devote themselves heroically and permanently to sin than to +holiness. The thousand dance halls said to have been opened up in Paris +immediately after the Terror could have kept going profitably only if +most of the population of Paris wanted to dance most of the time. And +in spite of Anglo-Saxon ideas to the contrary, Parisians are really not +built that way. + +What happens in the years following the crisis of the Terror is a kind +of seesaw between moral restraint and moral looseness, at the end of +which a kind of equilibrium is arrived at in which most men and women +behave in respect to such matters as gambling, drinking, love-making, +the adornment of their persons, and the use of leisure, about the way +their grandfathers and grandmothers had behaved. If we look at Stalin’s +Russia and ask ourselves how far there seems to be opportunity for the +old Adam and the old Eve to come out in the lives of Russians we shall +get a more accurate measure of the reality of Thermidor in Russia than +we could get from any amount of Marxist or anti-Marxist theorizing. + +Mr. Eugene Lyons tells with malicious delight the story of the +bafflement and anger of a correspondent of the New York Jewish +_Freiheit_, a Communist paper, when he was excluded from a government +reception in Russia because he did not have a dinner jacket. Dinner +jackets a part of the dictatorship of the proletariat! Nothing could be +more absurd, illogical and wholly natural. The dinner jacket satisfies +a number of human needs--the anthropologist could analyze most of them +for you--and there seems to be no evidence that any of our revolutions +had much long-run effect on these needs. A commissar needs a dinner +jacket at least as much as a Congressman or a D.A.R. lecturer. + +Detail after detail might be brought forward to show how the +dictatorship of the proletariat in contemporary Russia is by no means +the dictatorship of virtue we have seen prevailing in the crisis +periods of our revolutions. Jazz, for instance, was long prohibited +in Russia. Jazz was clearly the product of a decadent bourgeois +civilization, an indecent way of stimulating what no good Marxist would +want, or need, to have stimulated, one of the protean forms of “opium +for the people” in capitalistic countries. Communists would dance +from sheer joy to innocent, spring-like music. In the late twenties, +however, the fox-trot and similar dances began to seep into Communist +Russia, and nowadays we are told that American dance music is played as +frequently and as badly in Russia as in the rest of Europe. + +No one dramatic event like the fall of Robespierre can be used to date +Thermidor in Russia. But a whole series of little matters of daily +life combine to make an impressive case for the reality of the Russian +reaction. A youth leader appears at a national youth congress in a +necktie, a step which when first taken must have been as shocking as +would be in this country the appearance of a Commencement speaker in +overalls. A fashion show is held in Moscow, and mannequins actually +parade, gliding and smiling with conventional lack of abandon, almost +as if they were poor little wage-slaves in Paris or New York. Lipsticks +and other cosmetics begin to appear even in the shops patronized by +working girls. Stories of crime, “human interest” stories, begin +to appear in the pages of newspapers hitherto superior to such +capitalistic drivel, and hitherto consecrated to the pure heights of +politics. Movies are made in which are to be seen recognizable human +beings, insignificant, comic, stupid, jealous, even Russian, rather +than bloodless abstractions representing Capitalism, the Landlord, +Communism, the Proletariat, Man in Revolt. + +The Bolsheviks had been very superior about the family. It was an +institution of the old regime, interwoven with all sorts of religious +elements, inevitably conservative in its social action. The family was +a stuffy little nest breeding selfishness, jealousy, love of property, +indifference towards the great needs of society. The family kept the +young indoctrinated with the stupidities of the old. The Bolsheviks +would break up the family, encourage divorce, educate the children +to the true selflessness of Communism, get them used to collective +enterprises and collective social life, get rid of the influence of +the church in family relations. Now there seems to be no doubt that in +contemporary Russia Stalin’s government is deliberately attempting to +inculcate the old family virtues. Movies, plays, novels have restored +respect for parents, the old family ties, to honor again. Gallantry +towards women seems to be coming back; and gallantry towards women is +a shocking survival of feudalism, a symbol of their inferior position +in society. Divorce, once about as easy and inexpensive as it could +possibly be, has now been made more expensive and more difficult. +More important, the government seems to be encouraging the spread +of a sentiment that marriage is a serious and permanent affair, +something made in heaven as heaven now seems understood in Russia. +Abortion, which the old Bolsheviks proudly made as legal and as easy as +appendectomy in America, and almost as frequent, has now been forbidden +by law save where it can be certified as necessary to preserve the +woman’s life. Stalin is actually taking measures to encourage large +families. And underlying these various measures, and much more +important as a general indication of what is going on in Russia than +any one of them, is an atmosphere we should almost call Victorian. The +present rulers of Russia seem to be trying deliberately to cultivate +the kind of sentiments characteristic of societies in equilibrium--the +domestic affections, simple patriotism, love of work and routine, +obedience to those in power, dislike for individual eccentricities, in +short, what Pareto called the “persistent aggregates.” + +Pursuing these ends, Stalin has recently decreed that Marxist debunking +of Russian history is to cease, that Russians are once more to learn +of the glories of the Russian past. The Byzantine missionaries who +brought Christianity to Russia are no longer to be painted as fools and +villains, agents of what was clearly capitalistic imperialism, abject +persons like contemporary missionaries bringing Bible, rum and syphilis +to the South Seas. On the contrary, Christianity in Russia is to be +seen as an essential step in preparing the barbarous Slavs for higher +things. Peter the Great and Catherine are no longer to be made cruel +despots. They, too, were great architects of Russia’s destiny, without +whom millions of other Slavs and Asiatics might not now enjoy the +blessings of Communism. Perhaps Stalin hopes that his people will love +him the more, once they learn how many other Stalins have in the past +ruled over them as Czars. + + +_V. Summary_ + +Thermidor is then not by any means something unique, limited to the +French revolution from which it takes its name. We have found in all +three of our societies which underwent the full cycle of revolution a +similar moral let-down, a similar process of concentration of power +in the hands of a “tyrant” or “dictator,” a similar seeping back of +exiles, a similar revulsion against the men who had made the Terror, a +similar return to old habits in daily life. + +Even in the United States, which did not undergo quite the same sort +of crisis as the other countries, which did not have a real Reign of +Terror and Virtue, the decade of the 1780’s displays in incomplete +forms some of the marks of Thermidor. There were a relaxation of war +discipline and war tension and a grand renewed scramble for wealth +and pleasure. There were much financial speculation and much sheer +suffering. Shays’s Rebellion, a most ineffectual gesture, reminds one +of the feeble attempts of suffering Frenchmen and Russians to protest +against the newly rich of their Thermidors. There was even a moral +let-down in this country. “Sober Americans of 1784,” writes Jameson, +“lamented the spirit of speculation which war and its attendant +disturbances had generated, the restlessness of the young, disrespect +for tradition and authority, increase of crime, the frivolity and +extravagance of society.” All this sounds very like the original +Thermidor in France. + +In some sense the phenomenon of reaction and restoration seems almost +inevitably a part of the process of revolution. At any rate it seems +hard for the most optimistic lover of revolution to deny that we have +found such a phenomenon in all of the four societies we have chosen +to study. The very, very faithful may still maintain that the great +revolution in Russia has proved itself exempt from this reaction, that +in Russia the noble aims of revolutionists in Western society have +at last achieved an unsullied reality. We ourselves cannot fit the +facts of Stalin’s regime to any such interpretation. Yet the fact of +Thermidor, even the fact of formal restoration as in 1660 and 1814, +does not mean that revolution has changed nothing. We shall in the +next chapter attempt to answer the very difficult question: Just what +changes did these revolutions effect? + + + + +_Chapter_ NINE A SUMMARY OF THE WORK OF REVOLUTIONS + + +_I. Changes in Institutions and Ideas_ + +With that tendency to absolutism which common sense shares with +some more formal metaphysics, we are likely to think of the kind of +revolution we have been studying as a cataclysmic break with the past. +The revolution “marks a new era” or “ends forever the abuses of the old +regime” or “digs a gulf between the old X and the new.” On the other +hand, when disillusioned liberals like Mr. E. D. Martin come to turn +against the revolutionary tradition, they conclude as sweepingly that +in effect revolutions change nothing of importance--except perhaps +for the worse--that revolutions are unpleasant and perhaps avoidable +interludes in a nation’s history. Now it should be clear that our +present study of the English, American, French and Russian revolutions +can hardly permit any such absolute answers to the question: What +did these revolutions really change? Some institutions, some laws, +even some human habits, they clearly changed in very important ways; +other institutions, laws and habits they changed in the long run but +slightly, if at all. It may be that what they changed is more--or +less--significant for the sociologist than what they did not change. +But we cannot begin to decide this last matter until we have got the +actual changes straight. We are considering here, of course, those +changes which are apparent at the end of the revolutionary fever, those +changes which the history books are likely to catalogue as “permanent.” +With the changes promised but not achieved by the extremists, as with +the many dramatic changes in the lives of the individual actors in the +revolution, we are not here directly concerned at the moment. + +Politically the revolution ends the worst abuses, the worst +inefficiencies of the old regime. It settles for a time at least the +kind of internal conflict out of which the “dual sovereignty” arose. +The machinery of government works more smoothly after than immediately +before the revolution. France is here a typical case. The old +overlapping jurisdictions, the confusions and the compromises inherited +from the thousand-year struggle between the centripetal forces of the +Crown and the centrifugal forces of the feudal nobility, the welter of +accumulated precedents, were all replaced by the work of the French +revolution. An able bureaucracy operating within neatly subordinated +administrative areas, a legal system efficiently codified, an excellent +army well staffed and well provided for, enabled Napoleon to do much +that his Bourbon predecessors could not possibly have done. Tocqueville +long ago pointed out that the French revolution came to complete the +work of a long line of French monarchs, to make centralized power in +France effective and complete. + +Here is one detail among many. In the old France, weights and measures +varied from region to region, indeed from town to town. A bushel at +Toulouse might be much more than a bushel at neighboring Montauban. +Worse yet, the very names of measures might be wholly different words. +The coinage was, like the present English coinage, partly duodecimal, +and very hard to handle by long division. What the revolution did about +all this is familiar to every schoolboy. It substituted the uniform +system of weights and measures known as the metric system, a system +which has made its way without benefit of revolution through most of +the world outside the British Empire and the United States. + +This achievement of governmental efficiency is really the most striking +uniformity we can note in estimating the political changes effected +by our revolutions. With suitable allowances for local differences, +for accidents and for the inevitable residue of the unique with which +all history and sociology must deal, England, America, and Russia also +emerged from their revolutions with more efficient and more centralized +governments. The process is less clear in England, partly because it +took place before the full maturing of economic and cultural forces +tending to promote such forms of efficiency as the metric system +or the _Code Napoléon_. But, for all its complexities, the English +government after 1660 was much better geared to the needs of the nation +of shopkeepers than was the England of 1620, with knights’ fees, ship +money, benevolences, Star Chamber, Court of High Commission, and the +other appurtenances of the immature Stuart despotism. Parliament after +1660 was more completely master of England than the first two Stuarts +had been. + +Russia is in this respect as in so many still a subject for dispute. +Violent opponents of Stalin insist that the new bureaucrats are just as +inefficient, pettily tyrannical and stupid as they were said to have +been under the Czars. Some of the sentiments involved in statements of +this sort would seem to be more or less a constant of Russian life, and +to a certain extent of life under any government. Gogol’s admirable +comedy, _The Inspector-General_, deals as certainly with uniformities +as any scientist could. Yet all in all future historians will probably +have to admit that as a piece of political machinery the soviet system +worked better than did that of the Czars, that the soviet bureaucracy +was on the whole a more capable one than that of the Czars. You may +not like the first Five Year Plan, but you must admit that beneath its +parade of statistics lies a concrete economic achievement greater than +anything the old regime could show for a similar period. + +These revolutions were all made in the name of freedom, were all +directed against the tyranny of the few and towards the rule of the +many. This whole phase of revolutions is peculiarly involved with the +existence of certain sentiments in human beings which make it very hard +to apply the methods of science to the study of men in society. Yet +it would seem that the full importance of such matters as democracy, +civil rights, written constitutions, and indeed the whole apparatus +of popular government lies rather within that vague and important +field the Marxists like to call ideology than in the field of concrete +political agencies which we are now studying. Certainly one is struck +by the fact that all our revolutions promoted the efficiency of the +government rather than the “right” of the individual to a romantic +freedom to be himself. Even the traditional apparatus of popular +government can be analyzed as an instrument to get things done in a +particular situation, however strange such an analysis might seem to +conventionally minded contemporaries of Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin. +Bills of Rights, codes, and constitutions were in effect charters of +the new ruling classes. Liberty as an ideal was one thing; liberty in +politics was another and less exalted matter. + +These revolutions all saw much transfer of property by confiscation or +forced sale. They saw the fall of one ruling class and its succession +by another ruling class recruited in part, at least, from individuals +who were before the revolution outside the ruling class. They were +accompanied by a definite and concrete demand for the abolition of +poverty, for the equal sharing of wealth; the men who guided the +Russian revolution continued long after its crisis period to insist +that they were economic egalitarians, that Russia would not recognize +private property in land and in capital goods. Marxist thought still +separates our four revolutions into two different classes: the English, +French, and American, all of which it considers to have been in their +final results “bourgeois” revolutions, inevitable victories of business +and industry over landed aristocracy; and the Russian revolution, in +its final phases a true “proletarian” revolution. We may nevertheless +be more impressed with the fact that in all four revolutions economic +power changed hands, and that a newly amalgamated “ruling class” in the +new Russia as in the new France directed the economic as well as the +political life of the society. + +In more detail, the English revolution took land from the more devoted +Cavaliers and ecclesiastical property from the more unyielding +Episcopalians and Presbyterians and gave it to typical Puritans, +business men and clergymen alike. The church livings came back at the +Restoration of 1660 into Anglican hands, but save for the property +of a few great lords very close to Charles II, confiscated Royalist +lands remained in the possession of their new owners. Most of these +owners made their peace with the Stuart government, and thus was laid +the foundation for the ruling class under which England won an empire +in the next two centuries, a ruling class in which landed wealth and +industrial wealth were almost inextricably mixed, and which proved to +be a very good ruling class. + +The concrete economic changes in France follow a similar pattern. +Lands confiscated from clergy and _émigré_ nobles were acquired by +revolutionists, and for the most part remained in the possession of the +purchasers even after the Restoration of 1814. Much of this land no +doubt finally ended up in the possession of small independent peasants, +and helped to put the final touches on the establishment of that very +French class, universally regarded among writers and politicians as +the core of modern France. But much of this transaction also benefited +the middle class, and certainly the French ruling class _after_ the +revolution represents as striking a mixture of old wealth and new, of +land and trade, as did the English. + +In Russia the differences are not as great as they ought to be +according to Marxist theory. There has been a transfer of economic +power from one group to another rather than an equal sharing of +economic power, an equal distribution of consumers’ goods, an end +of struggle over economic goods or power--but you may put the +Marxist formula as you like. The new Russian bureaucracy seems to +be a privileged class which enjoys wealth in the form of consumers’ +goods without yet possessing it in the forms we conventionally call +“property.” At any rate, almost all reporters are agreed that in Russia +in 1938 there is nothing like an equal distribution of consumers’ +goods. What seems to have taken place is a development of the lines of +movement of Russian economic history. Just as the French revolution +put the finishing touches on the position of the peasantry, but by no +means “gave” them the land suddenly, so the present status of Russian +agriculture and industry seems to be a development of slavophile and +other elements favoring collective farming over the _kulaks_, and of +almost world-wide tendencies favoring large-scale bureaucratically +managed industry over small independent competitive concerns. Here as +in other countries the revolution certainly does not draw institutions +out of a hat--nor out of a book, not even out of so impressive a book +as _Das Kapital_. + +None of these revolutions quite substituted a brand-new ruling class +for the old one, at least not unless one thinks of a “class” without +bothering about the human beings who make up the class, which is a +favorite procedure of the Marxists. What happens is that by the end of +the convalescent period there is well begun a kind of amalgamation, +in which the enterprising, adaptable, or lucky individuals of the old +privileged classes are for most practical purposes tied up with those +individuals of the old suppressed classes who, probably through the +same gifts, were able to rise. This _amalgame_ is especially noticeable +in the army and the civil service, but it is almost as conspicuous in +business and industry, and higher politics. A detailed study of the +social origins of Bonaparte’s officers, or the officers in the present +Red Army, or of the men who actually ran the government of England in +1670, France in 1810, Russia in 1938, would certainly confirm this +analysis. Moreover, the new men in the post-revolutionary ruling +classes have made distinct compromises with the older ones, with that +old world from which the crisis period of the revolution is so extreme +a revulsion. Your Downings, Fouchés and Kalinins have no longer the +fine freedom a Trotsky can enjoy. They are no longer revolutionaries, +but rulers, and as such they are in some respects bound to “learn” from +their predecessors. + +It is in the social arrangements that most intimately and immediately +touch the average man that the actual changes effected by our +revolutions seem slightest. The grand attempts at reform during the +crisis period try to alter John Jones’s relations with his wife, his +children, try to give him a new religion, new personal habits. The +Thermidoreans abandon most of this attempt, and in the end John Jones +stands on certain matters about where he stood when the revolution +began. Our study of revolutions should confirm something that sensible +men have always known and that exasperated reformers have occasionally +come to admit, at least to themselves--that in some very important ways +the behavior of men changes with a slowness almost comparable to the +kind of change the geologist studies. + +We may take as an illustration of the foregoing uniformity the attempts +of certain of our revolutionists to alter radically and quickly phases +of the law of the family. Le Play has shown that the uniformities of +the family are among the stablest and most persistent things in our +Western civilization. The ardent Leftist revolutionist in the last +few centuries has, therefore, naturally enough, tended to dislike +this monogamous Christian family, to him a bulwark of individual +selfishness, social snobbery, intellectual stuffiness, snarled up with +testamentary red tape, dedicated to the myth of masculine superiority, +hardened into rigidity by religious sanctions, a festering center which +must be cleaned up before men and women can live as God, Nature, or +Science intended them to live. The French revolution saw no widespread +attempt to destroy the family, and indeed its generally middle-class +course is filled with pious praise of the family virtues. But the +humanitarians did put through some far-reaching legislation in this +field, such as generous laws of adoption and other measures tending +to break down the rigid, almost Roman, family law of the old regime. +Notably they attempted to make illegitimate children absolutely equal +in every respect with legitimate children. As the law to put this +into effect was passed, a glowing orator remarked: “There are no more +bastards in France.” We need hardly add that he was mistaken. In a +monograph on _French Revolutionary Legislation on Illegitimacy_, +the present author has tried to show how even the good bourgeois who +passed this law were emotionally too entangled in the traditional +family feelings to try to put it into effect. They _said_ that bastards +were free and equal to legitimate children; but they could not bring +themselves to _act_ as if they really believed or wanted it to be +so. On the whole, the traditional family in its French form emerged +unscathed from the revolution. + +Russia has seen a much more determined attack on the monogamous +Christian family, legislation making divorce even easier than in +Nevada, legalizing abortion, encouraging collective household +arrangements, establishing _crèches_ and kindergartens, bringing +children up as far as possible outside the home, and so on. Let there +be no misunderstanding. Russian idealists who sought to do all of +this were not nasty-minded folk seeking to make life easier for the +sensualist. Quite the contrary, they had, as we have tried very hard +to show, a strong streak of Puritanism. To this day, a young Russian +Communist would be shocked to the fibers of his being at the sight of +almost any American newspaper and periodical stand. These idealists +thought the bourgeois family corrupting, and agreed with Mr. Shaw +that marriage combines the maximum of temptation with the maximum +of opportunity. Their legislation was aimed at achieving the ideals +behind Christian monogamy though destroying what they regarded as the +corrupting family institutions within which it was hedged. + +Here again we are not in the position of historians working with +good sources, but through the conflicting reports coming to us from +Russia of the 1930’s we can make out that the reformers have failed, +that the Christian monogamous family has survived the old Bolsheviks +in Russia. Recent legislation, as we have seen, has not only hedged +legalized abortion so much as to limit it to cases of the strictest +medical necessity, but has actually set up premiums for large families. +Divorce has been made more difficult. Filial piety and indeed all the +conventional bourgeois family virtues are now in high honor in press, +movie, stage, and school. + +To take a very specific example, homosexuality was, for the old +Bolsheviks, an abnormality, possibly open to medical treatment, but not +of course a crime. They didn’t like it, but they were too consistent +and open-minded to treat it as a crime. Naturally they had no narrow +bourgeois disgust for the practice. But in March, 1934, homosexuality +was made a crime with a three- to eight-year prison penalty. We cannot +refrain from adding that the Webbs explain this with their usual +obligingness: “It is understood that this action followed the discovery +of centers of demoralization of boys, due to the influence of certain +foreigners, who were summarily expelled from soviet territory.” But +even with the foreigners expelled, Russia retains the law. The fact is +that Russian _sentiments_ on the subject of homosexuality are nearly +constant; only Russian _ideas_ on the subject are variable, and in the +long run the constant prevails. + +The whole subject of change in the routines of the daily life of John +Jones, in the more intimate of his relations with his fellows and his +environment, is none too well explored. Here again common sense, with +its decisive “human nature doesn’t change,” is much too absolute. But +it does appear that our revolutions had but slight permanent effect on +the important little things of life for John Jones. What is perhaps +loosely called the “Industrial Revolution” had certainly a much greater +effect, forced John into a more difficult series of adjustments than +did our revolutions. And none of our societies seems to have undergone +changes as complete as those undergone by Turkish society since the +World War or by Japanese society in the last fifty years. It is +tempting to record the apparent paradox that Western society is in +some respects more slow to change than Eastern society. But the truth +is much more complex than any such paradox. Both the Turks and the +Japanese seem to have preserved intact through social and economic +change a series of national disciplines. In our Western societies, +family, moral and religious disciplines have in a similar way served as +a balance to very important social and economic changes, of which the +revolutions we have studied are only a part. + +Modern Western society has indeed gone through in the last few +centuries changes so continuous that, if we adopt the very plausible +concept of social equilibrium, we must expect to find certain forces +pulling in the opposite direction, in the direction of stability. These +forces are not as a rule articulate. They do not seem to interest +intellectuals as much as do forces making for change. They are perhaps +a bit undignified, and certainly undramatic. Insofar as they do get +themselves translated into language, they appear in a variety of +logical disguises difficult to penetrate. But they are there, and +as we have seen, they set a definite limit to what the reformer or +revolutionist can do. Bastardy can hardly stand up against logic or +biology; but bastardy exists by virtue neither of logic nor of biology, +but by virtue of well-established, slow-changing human sentiments. Men +may feel tearfully sorry for poor children stigmatized from birth for +something clearly not their fault; but hitherto not even revolution +has prevailed against those perhaps ignoble but certainly persistent +sentiments behind the “man-made” and “artificial” distinction between +children born after a certain rite has been performed and those born +without benefit of such a rite. The rite seems fragile, changeable, +unimportant--a mere matter of trivial words and gestures. Actually it +has proved effective against much grander words and more striking +gestures, as well as against whole batteries of logic. For it is, to +use Pareto’s terminology, associated with the “persistent aggregates,” +patterns of sentiments and behavior very slow to change. + +All this amounts to the statement that in our Western society men have +continued to hold certain sentiments and to conform to certain set ways +of doing things even after they have changed what they say about these +sentiments and these acts. Our revolutions seem in many ways to have +changed men’s minds more completely than they changed men’s habits. +This is by no means to say that they changed nothing at all, that what +men think is of no importance. Ideas are not quite magicians in this +world, or Robespierre would not have fallen, and Trotsky would today be +in Moscow and not in Mexico. But they are not to be dismissed as having +no part in the social change. Indeed, what our Marxist friends would +call the “ideological” changes effected by our revolutions deserve +careful consideration. + +One may distinguish two contrasting roles played by these ideas born +of revolution. First, our revolutions in the end would seem to have +taken the sting out of the radical ideas and slogans of their early +days. They achieved the necessary miracle of reconciling aspiring men +to the substantial failure of their aspirations. They turned what were +originally verbal instruments of revolt, means of moving men to social +action against the existing order, into something we shall have to be +up-to-date and call the myths, folklore, symbols, stereotypes, rituals, +of their respective societies. “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,” which +once was the trumpet call to the storming of heaven on earth, is now +in the Third French Republic no more than a bit of national liturgy, a +comforting reminder that Frenchmen are the privileged heirs of a heroic +past. There are signs that in Russia even so explosive a phrase as +“Workers of the world, unite!” can be accommodated to the conservative, +restraining necessities of ritual. After all, as too-logical radicals +have pointed out, the Bible itself is full of good revolutionary +doctrine; what organized Christianity has done with the Bible organized +Communism ought to be able to do with a much simpler book like _Das +Kapital_. + +A second role is a more positive one. Even in their use as ritual, +these ideas are not purely passive, mere bits of mumbo-jumbo. We cannot +here go into the important and involved question of the role of these +myths and symbols in a society. We certainly must avoid the stupid +question as to whether such symbols “cause” any kind of social change. +Here as almost everywhere in the social sciences the cart-and-horse +formula of causation is useless, and indeed misleading. Sufficient +for us that in all our societies we find that the memory of the great +revolution is enshrined in practices that seem to be an essential +part of the national state as a going concern. Insofar as men are +today in England, France, America, and Russia heartened by awareness +of membership in a nation, guided perhaps, and certainly consoled, by +the nobler and more abstract beliefs, made conscious of some kind of +security, of a status, by all sorts of ritualistic acts associated with +the State or with the Church as a department of the State, fortified +by the prospects still held out in the grand words of a Milton, +a Jefferson, a Danton, a Lenin--insofar as men are so moved, the +revolutions we have studied have given largely to the content of their +emotions. In England, in America, in France, the memory of their great +overturns has become a factor in the stability of existing society: +in Russia, unless all signs fail, a similar state of affairs has just +about been reached. + +Yet our revolutions have also left behind a tradition of successful +revolt. What is to established, contented, conforming, conventional +men merely a ritualistic satisfaction, remains for discontented men a +spur to activate their discontent. Our modern Western revolutionary +tradition is to a certain extent cumulative, and the latest +revolutionists in the tradition, the Russians, have carried their +awareness of revolutionary history almost to an obsession. Trotsky, +for instance, though he naturally never uses the conceptual scheme of +the fever as we have employed it, seems constantly to be watching the +course of the Russian revolution almost clinically, constantly looking +for events to take courses observed before in France, in England, +or wherever men have revolted in the name of the many against the +few. If Mussolini and Hitler are equally interested in such clinical +observations, this is but proof of our modern assumption that there are +uniformities in history. + +Again this tradition of revolt is an imponderable, but it seems to +have gone into the making of the Western democracies, and to be one +of the elements that is in its full form lacking in the development +of Italy and Germany, where democratic revolutions have been abortive +or at best unimpressive. To state the existence of this revolutionary +tradition is not necessarily to make a judgment of value. We bring +it forth as an observable fact, one not to be effectively denied by +partisans of any stripe. Its exact influence in the complex equilibrium +of our present societies we cannot here attempt to determine. Notably, +we find great difficulties in estimating how far it has taken root in +Russia. Possibly the Communism of Stalin is but “fascism of the Left.” +But the whole temper of the Western democracies is influenced, surely, +by the fact that they were born of one kind of revolution, with one +kind of “ideal”--that is still best summarized as “Liberty, Equality, +Fraternity.” + + +_II. Some Tentative Uniformities_ + +When all necessary concessions are made to those who insist that events +in history are unique, it remains true that the four revolutions we +have studied do display some striking uniformities. Our conceptual +scheme of the fever can be worked out so as to bring these uniformities +clearly to mind. We shall find it worth while, in attempting to +summarize the work of these revolutions, to recapitulate briefly the +main points of comparison on which our uniformities are based. + +We must be very tentative about the prodromal symptoms of revolution. +Even retrospectively, diagnosis of the four societies we studied was +very difficult, and there is little ground for belief that anyone today +has enough knowledge and skill to apply formal methods of diagnosis to +a contemporary society and say, in this case revolution will or will +not occur shortly. But some uniformities do emerge from a study of the +old regimes in England, America, France, and Russia. + +First, these were all societies on the whole on the upgrade +economically before the revolution came, and the revolutionary +movements seem to originate in the discontents of not unprosperous +people who feel restraint, cramp, annoyance, rather than downright +crushing oppression. Certainly these revolutions are not started by +down-and-outers, by starving, miserable people. These revolutionists +are not worms turning, not children of despair. These revolutions are +born of hope, and their philosophies are formally optimistic. + +Second, we find in our pre-revolutionary society definite and indeed +very bitter class antagonisms, though these antagonisms seem rather +more complicated than the cruder Marxists will allow. It is not a case +of feudal nobility against bourgeoisie in 1640, 1776, and 1789, or +of bourgeoisie against proletariat in 1917. The strongest feelings +seem generated in the bosoms of men--and women--who have made money, +or at least who have enough to live on, and who contemplate bitterly +the imperfections of a socially privileged aristocracy. Revolutions +seem more likely when social classes are fairly close together than +when they are far apart. “Untouchables” very rarely revolt against +a God-given aristocracy, and Haiti gives one of the few examples of +successful slave revolutions. But rich merchants whose daughters +can marry aristocrats are likely to feel that God is at least as +interested in merchants as in aristocrats. It is difficult to say why +the bitterness of feeling between classes almost equal socially seems +so much stronger in some societies than others--why, for instance, a +Marie Antoinette should be so much more hated than a Barbara Hutton; +but at any rate the existence of such bitterness can be observed in our +pre-revolutionary societies, which is, clinically speaking, enough for +the moment. + +Third, there is what we have called the desertion of the intellectuals. +This is in some respects the most reliable of the symptoms we are +likely to meet. Here again we need not try to explain all the hows and +whys, need not try to tie up the desertion of the intellectuals with a +grand and complete sociology of revolutions. We need state simply that +it can be observed in all four of our societies. + +Fourth, the governmental machinery is clearly inefficient, partly +through neglect, through a failure to make changes in old institutions, +partly because new conditions--in the societies we have studied, +pretty specifically conditions attendant on economic expansion and +the growth of new monied classes, new ways of transportation, new +business methods--these new conditions laid an intolerable strain on +governmental machinery adapted to simpler, more primitive, conditions. + +Fifth, the old ruling class--or rather, many individuals of the old +ruling class--come to distrust themselves, or lose faith in the +traditions and habits of their class, grow intellectual, humanitarian, +or go over to the attacking groups. Perhaps a larger number of them +than usual lead lives we shall have to call immoral, dissolute, though +one cannot be as sure about this as a symptom as about the loss of +habits and traditions effective among a ruling class. At any rate, the +ruling class becomes politically inept. + +The dramatic events that start things moving, that bring on the +fever of revolution, are in three of our four revolutions intimately +connected with the financial administration of the state. In the +fourth, Russia, the breakdown of administration under the burdens of an +unsuccessful war is only in part financial. But in all our societies +the inefficiency and inadequacy of the governmental structure of the +society come out clearly in the very first stages of the revolution. +There is a time--the first few weeks or months--when it looks as if a +determined use of force on the part of the government might prevent the +mounting excitement from culminating in an overthrow of the government. +These governments attempted such a use of force in all four instances, +and in all four their attempt was a failure. This failure indeed proved +a turning point during the first stages, and set up the revolutionists +in power. + +Yet one is impressed in all four instances more with the ineptitude of +the governments’ use of force than with the skill of their opponents’ +use of force. We are here speaking of the situation wholly from a +military and police point of view. It may be that the majority of +the people are discontented, loathe the existing government, wish +it overthrown. Nobody knows. They don’t take plebiscites _before_ +revolutions. In the actual clash--even Bastille Day, Concord, or +the February Days in Petrograd--only a minority of the people is +actively engaged. But the government hold over its own troops is +poor, its troops fight half-heartedly or desert, its commanders are +stupid, its enemies acquire a nucleus of the deserting troops or of a +previous militia, and the old gives place to the new. Yet, such is the +conservative and routine-loving nature of the bulk of human beings, so +strong are habits of obedience in most of them, that it is almost safe +to say that no government is likely to be overthrown until it loses the +ability to make adequate use of its military and police powers. That +loss of ability may show itself in the actual desertion of soldiers +and police to the revolutionists, or in the stupidity with which the +government manages its soldiers and police, or in both ways. + +The events we have grouped under the name of first stages do not +of course unroll themselves in exactly the same order in time, nor +with exactly the same content, in all four of our revolutions. But +we have listed the major elements--and they fall into a pattern of +uniformities--financial breakdown, organization of the discontented to +remedy this breakdown (or threatened breakdown), revolutionary demands +on the part of these organized discontented, demands which if granted +would mean the virtual abdication of those governing, attempted use of +force by the government, its failure, and the attainment of power by +the revolutionists. These revolutionists have hitherto been acting as +an organized and nearly unanimous group, but with the attainment of +power it is clear that they are not united. The group which dominates +these first stages we call the moderates. They are not always in a +numerical majority in this stage--indeed it is pretty clear that if +you limit the moderates to the Kadets they were not in a majority in +Russia in February, 1917. But they seem the natural heirs of the old +government, and they have their chance. In three of our revolutions +they are sooner or later driven from office to death or exile. +Certainly there is to be seen in England, France and Russia a process +in which a series of crises--some involving violence, street-fighting +and the like--deposes one set of men and puts in power another and more +radical set. In these revolutions power passes by violent or at least +extra-legal methods from Right to Left, until at the crisis period the +extreme radicals, the complete revolutionists, are in power. There are, +as a matter of fact, usually a few even wilder and more lunatic fringes +of the triumphant extremists--but these are not numerous or strong +and are usually suppressed or otherwise made harmless by the dominant +radicals. It is therefore approximately true to say that power passes +on from Right to Left until it reaches the extreme Left. + +The rule of the extremists we have called the crisis period. This +period was not reached in the American revolution, though in the +treatment of Loyalists, in the pressure to support the army, in some +of the phases of social life, you can discern in America many of the +phenomena of the Terror as it is seen in our three other societies. +We cannot here attempt to go into the complicated question as to why +the American revolution stopped short of a true crisis period, why the +moderates were never ousted in this country. We must repeat that we are +simply trying to establish certain uniformities of description, and are +not attempting a complete sociology of revolutions. + +The extremists are helped to power no doubt by the existence of a +powerful pressure towards centralized strong government, something +which in general the moderates are not capable of providing, +while the extremists, with their discipline, their contempt for +half-measures, their willingness to make firm decisions, their +freedom from libertarian qualms, are quite able and willing to +centralize. Especially in France and Russia, where powerful foreign +enemies threatened the very existence of the nation, the machinery of +government during the crisis period was in part constructed to serve as +a government of national defense. Yet though modern wars, as we know +in this country, demand a centralization of authority, war alone does +not seem to account for all that happened in the crisis period in those +countries. + +What does happen may be a bit oversimply summarized as follows: +emergency centralization of power in an administration, usually +a council or commission, and more or less dominated by a “strong +man”--Cromwell, Robespierre, Lenin; government without any effective +protection for the normal civil rights of the individual--or if +this sounds unrealistic, let us say the normal private life of +the individual; setting up of extraordinary courts and a special +revolutionary police to carry out the decrees of the government and +to suppress all dissenting individuals or groups; all this machinery +ultimately built up from a relatively small group--Independents, +Jacobins, Bolsheviks--which has a monopoly on all governmental action. +Finally, governmental action becomes a much greater part of all +human action than in these societies in their normal condition: this +apparatus of government is set to work indifferently on the mountains +and molehills of human life--it is used to pry into and poke about +corners normally reserved for priest or physician, or friend, and it +is used to regulate, control, plan, the production and distribution of +economic wealth on a national scale. + +This pervasiveness of the Reign of Terror in the crisis period is +partly explicable in terms of the pressure of war necessities and +of economic struggles as well as of other variables: but it must +probably also be explained as in part the manifestation of an effort +to achieve intensely religious ends here on earth. The little band of +violent revolutionists who form the nucleus of all action during the +Terror behave as men have been observed to behave before when under +the influence of active religious faith. Independents, Jacobins, +Bolsheviks, all sought to make all human activity here on earth conform +to an ideal pattern, which, like all such patterns, seems deeply rooted +in their sentiments. A striking uniformity in all these patterns is +their asceticism, or if you prefer, their condemnation of what we +may call the minor as well as the major vices. Essentially, however, +these patterns are a good deal alike, and all resemble closely what we +may call conventional Christian ethics. Independents, Jacobins, and +Bolsheviks, at least during the crisis period, really make an effort to +enforce behavior in literal conformity with these codes or patterns. +Such an effort means stern repression of much that many men have been +used to regarding as normal; it means a kind of universal tension in +which the ordinary individual can never feel protected by the humble +routines to which he has been formed: it means that the intricate +network of interactions among individuals--a network which is still +to the few men devoted to its intelligent study almost a complete +mystery--this network is temporarily all torn apart. John Jones, the +man in the street, the ordinary man, is left floundering. + +We are almost at the point of being carried away into the belief that +our conceptual scheme is something more than a mere convenience, that +it does somehow describe “reality.” At the crisis, the collective +patient does seem helpless, thrashing his way through a delirium. +But we must try to avoid the emotional, metaphorical appeal, and +concentrate on making clear what seems to be the really important point +here. Most of us are familiar with the favorite old Tory metaphor: +the violent revolutionist tears down the noble edifice society lives +in, or burns it down, and then fails to build up another, and poor +human beings are left naked to the skies. That is not a good metaphor, +save perhaps for purposes of Tory propaganda. Even at the height of a +revolutionary crisis period, more of the old building is left standing +than is destroyed. But the whole metaphor of the building is bad. We +may take instead an analogy from the human nervous system, or think +of an immensely complicated gridwork of electrical communications. +Society then appears as a kind of a network of interactions among +individuals, interactions for the most part fixed by habit, hardened +and perhaps adorned as ritual, dignified into meaning and beauty +by elaborately interwoven strands of interaction we know as law, +theology, metaphysics, and similar noble beliefs. Now sometimes many +of these interwoven strands of noble beliefs can be cut out, and +others inserted. During the crisis period of our revolutions some such +process seems to have taken place; but the whole network itself seems +so far never to have been altered suddenly and radically, and even the +noble beliefs tend to fit into the network in the same places. If you +kill off _all_ the people who live within the network, you don’t so +much change the network of course as destroy it. And in spite of our +prophets of doom, this type of destruction is rare in human history. +Certainly in none of our revolutions was there even a very close +approach to it. + +What did happen, under the pressure of class struggle, war, religious +idealism, and a lot more, was that the hidden and obscure courses +which many of the interactions in the network follow were suddenly +exposed, and passage along them made difficult in the unusual +publicity and, so to speak, self-consciousness. The courses of other +interactions were blocked, and the interactions went on with the +greatest of difficulties by all sorts of detours. The courses of +still other interactions were confused, short-circuited, paired off +in strange ways. Finally, the pretensions of the fanatical leaders of +the revolution involved the attempted creation of a vast number of +new interactions. Now though for the most part these new interactions +affected chiefly those strands we have called the noble beliefs--law, +theology, metaphysics, mythology, folklore, high-power abstractions in +general--still some of them did penetrate at an experimental level into +the obscurer and less dignified part of the network of interactions +among human beings and put a further strain on it. Surely it is +no wonder that under these conditions men and women in the crisis +period should behave as they would not normally behave, that in the +crisis period nothing should seem as it used to seem, that, indeed, a +famous passage from Thucydides, written two thousand years before our +revolutions, should seem like a clinical report: + + “When troubles had once begun in the cities, those who followed + carried the revolutionary spirit further and further, and determined + to outdo the report of all who had preceded them by the ingenuity of + the enterprises and the atrocity of their revenges. The meaning of + words had no longer the same relation to things, but was changed by + them as they thought proper. Reckless daring was held to be loyal + courage; prudent delay was the excuse of a coward; moderation was the + disguise of unmanly weakness; to know everything was to do nothing. + Frantic energy was the true quality of a man. A conspirator who + wanted to be safe was a recreant in disguise. The lover of violence + was always trusted, and his opponent suspected. He who succeeded + in a plot was deemed knowing, but a still greater master in craft + was he who detected one. On the other hand, he who plotted from the + first to have nothing to do with plots was a breaker up of parties + and a poltroon who was afraid of the enemy. In a word, he who could + outstrip another in a bad action was applauded, and so was he who + encouraged to evil one who had no idea of it.... The tie of party was + stronger than the tie of blood, because a partisan was more ready to + dare without asking why.” + +With this we may put a quotation from a much humbler source, an obscure +Siberian co-operative leader protesting against Red and White Terror +alike. Mr. Chamberlin quotes: + + “And we ask and appeal to society, to the contending political + groups and parties: When will our much-suffering Russia outlive the + nightmare that is throttling it, when will deaths by violence cease? + Doesn’t horror seize you at the sight of the uninterrupted flow of + human blood? Doesn’t horror seize you at the consciousness that the + deepest, most elementary bases of the existence of human society are + perishing: the feeling of humanity, the consciousness of the value + of life, of human personality, the feeling and consciousness of the + necessity of legal order in the state?... Hear our cry and despair: + we return to prehistoric times of the existence of the human race; we + are on the verge of the death of civilization and culture; we destroy + the great cause of human progress, for which many generations of our + worthier ancestors labored.” + +Certainly, however, none of our revolutions quite ended in the death +of civilization and culture. The network was stronger than the forces +trying to destroy or alter it, and in all of our societies the crisis +period was followed by a convalescence, by a return to most of the +simpler and more fundamental courses taken by interactions in the +old network. More especially, the religious lust for perfection, +the crusade for the Republic of Virtue, died out, save among a tiny +minority whose actions could not longer take place directly in +politics. An active, proselyting, intolerant, ascetic, chiliastic faith +became fairly rapidly an inactive, indifferent, worldly, ritualistic +faith. + +The equilibrium has been restored and the revolution is over. But this +does not mean that nothing has been changed. Some new and useful tracks +or courses in the network of interactions that makes society have been +established, some old and inconvenient ones--you may call them unjust +if you like--have been eliminated. There is something heartless in +saying that it took the French revolution to produce the metric system +and to destroy _lods et ventes_ and similar feudal inconveniences, +or the Russian revolution to bring Russia to use the modern calendar +and to eliminate a few useless letters in the Russian alphabet. +These tangible and useful results look rather petty as measured by +the brotherhood of man and the achievement of justice on this earth. +The blood of the martyrs seems hardly necessary to establish decimal +coinage. + +Yet those who feel that revolution is heroic need not despair. The +revolutionary tradition is an heroic one, and the noble beliefs which +seem necessary to all societies are in our Western democracies in part +a product of the revolutions we have been studying. Our revolutions +made tremendous and valuable additions to those strands in the +network of human interactions which can be isolated as law, theology, +metaphysics and, in the abstract sense, ethics. Had these revolutions +never occurred, you and I might still beat our wives or cheat at cards +or avoid walking under ladders, but we might not be able to rejoice in +our possession of certain inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the +pursuit of happiness, or in the comforting assurance that one more push +will bring the classless society. + +When one compares the whole course of these revolutions, certain +tentative uniformities suggest themselves. If the Russian revolution at +the end of our series is compared with the English at its beginning, +there seems to be a development of conscious revolutionary technique. +This is of course especially clear since Marx made the history of +revolutionary movements of the past a necessary preparation for +revolutionists of the present. Lenin and his collaborators had a +training in the technique of insurrection which Independents and +Jacobins lacked. Robespierre seems almost a political innocent +when his revolutionary training is compared with that of any good +Bolshevik leader. Sam Adams, it must be admitted, seems a good deal +less innocent. All in all, it is probable that this difference in the +explicitness of self-conscious preparation for revolution, this growth +of a copious literature of revolution, this increasing familiarity of +revolutionary ideas, is not one of the very important uniformities we +have to record. It is a conspicuous uniformity, but not an important +one. Revolutions are still not a form of logical action. The Bolsheviks +do not seem to have guided their actions by the “scientific” study of +revolutions to an appreciably greater degree than the Independents or +the Jacobins. They simply adapted an old technique to the days of the +telegraph and railroad trains. + +This last suggests another conspicuous but not very important tendency +in our four revolutions. They took place in societies increasingly +influenced by the “Industrial Revolution,” increasingly subject to +those changes in scale which our modern conquests of time and space +have brought to societies. Thus the Russian revolution directly +affected more people and more square miles of territory than any +previous revolution; its sequence of events compresses into a few +months what in England in the seventeenth century had taken years to +achieve; in its use of the printing press, telegraph, radio, airplanes +and the rest it seems, as compared with our other revolutions, +definitely a streamlined affair. But again we may well doubt whether +such changes of scale are in themselves really important factors. Men’s +desires are the same, whether they ride towards their achievement in +airplanes or on horseback. Revolutions may be bigger nowadays, but +surely not better. The loudspeaker does not change the words. + +Finally, at the risk of being tedious, we must come back to some of the +problems of methods in the social sciences which were suggested in our +first chapter. We must admit that the theorems, the uniformities, which +we have been able to put forward in terms of our conceptual scheme, are +vague. They cannot be stated in quantitative terms, cannot be used for +purposes of prediction or control. But at the very outset we warned the +reader not to expect too much. Even such vague theorems as that of the +desertion of the intellectuals, that of the role of force in the first +stages of revolution, that of the part played by “religious” enthusiasm +in the period of crisis, that of the pursuit of pleasure during +Thermidor, are, one hopes, not without value for the study of men in +society. In themselves they amount to little, but they suggest certain +possibilities in further work. + +In the first place, by their very inadequacies they point to the +necessity for a more rigorous treatment of the problems involved, +challenging those who find them incomplete and unsatisfactory to do a +better job. In the second place, they will serve the purpose of all +first approximations in scientific work--they will suggest further +study of the facts, especially in those fields where the attempt to +make first approximations has uncovered an insufficient supply of +the necessary facts. Notably here the facts for a study of class +antagonisms are woefully inadequate. So, too, are the facts for a study +of the circulation of the elite in pre-revolutionary societies. But +there are a hundred such holes, some of which can surely be filled. +Our first approximations will then lead the way to another’s second +approximations. No scientist should ask more. + + +_III. A Paradox of Revolution_ + +Wider uniformities will, to judge by the past of science, some day +emerge from more complete studies of the sociology of revolutions. Here +we dare not hazard much that we have not already brought out in the +course of our analysis of four specific revolutions. After all, these +are but four revolutions of what seems to be the same type, revolutions +in what may be not too uncritically called the democratic tradition. +So precious a word is “revolution” to many in that tradition, and +especially to Marxists, that they indignantly refuse to apply it to +such movements as the relatively bloodless but certainly violent and +illegal assumption of power by Mussolini or Hitler. These movements, +we are told, were not revolutions because they did not take power from +one class and give it to another. Obviously with a word in some ways +as imprecise as “revolution” you can play all sorts of tricks like +this. But for the scientific study of social change it seems wise to +apply the word revolution to the overthrow of an established and legal +parliamentary government by Fascists. If this is so, then our four +revolutions are but one kind of revolution, and we must not attempt +to make them bear the strain of generalizations meant to apply to all +revolutions. + +It is even more tempting to try to fit these revolutions into something +like a philosophy of history. But the philosophy of history is almost +bound to lead into the kind of prophetic activity we have already +firmly forsworn. It may be that mankind is now in the midst of a +universal “time of troubles” from which it will emerge into some +kind of universal authoritarian order. It may be that the democratic +revolutionary tradition is no longer a living and effective one. It +may be that the revolutions we have studied could only have taken +place in societies in which “progress” was made a concrete thing +by opportunities for economic expansion which cannot recur in our +contemporary world, with no more frontiers and no more big families. +It may even be that the Marxists are right, and that imperialistic +capitalism is now digging its own grave, preparing the inevitable +if long-delayed world revolution of the proletariat. There are many +possibilities, as to which it is almost true that one man’s guess is +as good as another’s. Certainly a conscientious effort to study four +great revolutions in the modern world as a scientist might cannot end +in anything as ambitious and as unscientific as social prognosis. + +We need not, however, end on a note of blank skepticism. It would +seem that there are, from the study of these revolutions, three major +conclusions to be drawn: first, that, in spite of their undeniable and +dramatic differences, they do present certain simple uniformities of +the kind we have tried to bring together under our conceptual scheme of +the fever; second, that they point sharply to the necessity of studying +men’s deeds and men’s words without assuming that there is always a +logical connection between the two, since throughout their courses, +and especially at their crises, they frequently exhibit men saying one +thing and doing another; third, that they indicate that in general many +things men do, many human habits, sentiments, dispositions, cannot +be changed at all rapidly, that the attempt made by the extremists +to change them by law, terror, and exhortation fails, that the +convalescence brings them back not greatly altered. + +As to what the experience of a great revolution does to the society +that experiences it, we cannot conclude here too widely without +trespassing on wider fields of history and sociology. Yet it does seem +that the patient emerges stronger in some respects from the conquered +fever, immunized in this way and that from attacks that might be more +serious. It is an observable fact that in all our societies there was +a certain flourishing, a peak of varied cultural achievements, after +the revolutions. Certainly we may not moralize too much about the +stupidities and cruelties of revolutions, may not lift up our hands in +horror. It is quite possible that wider study would show that feeble +and decadent societies do not undergo revolutions, that revolutions +are, perversely, a sign of strength and youth in societies. + +Certainly one quiet person emerges from his study, not indeed untouched +by a good deal of horror and disgust, but moved also with admiration +for a deep and unfathomable strength in men which, because of the +softer connotations of the word, he is reluctant to call spiritual. +Montaigne saw and felt it long ago: “I see not one action, or three, +or a hundred, but a commonly accepted state of morality so unnatural, +especially as regards inhumanity and treachery, which are to me the +worst of all sins, that I have not the heart to think of them without +horror; and they excite my wonder almost as much as my detestation. +_The practice of these egregious villainies has as much the mark of +strength and vigor of soul as of error and disorder._” + +Berkman the anarchist, who loathes the Russian revolution, tells a +story which may represent merely his own bias, but which may none the +less serve as a brief symbolical epilogue to this study. Berkman says +he asked a good Bolshevik acquaintance during the period of attempted +complete communization under Lenin why the famous Moscow cabmen, the +izvoschiks, who continued in diminished numbers to flit about Moscow +and to get enormous sums in paper roubles for their services, were not +nationalized like practically everything else. The Bolshevik replied, +“We found that if you don’t feed human beings they continue to live +somehow. But if you don’t feed the horses, the stupid beasts die. +That’s why we don’t nationalize the cabmen.” That is not an altogether +cheerful story, and in some ways one may regret the human capacity +to live without eating. But clearly if we were as stupid--or as +sensible--as horses we should have no revolutions. + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX + + +The following bibliography is not intended to be a scholarly one. +It does not even include all the somewhat varied sources which have +gone into this study of revolutions. It is intended solely as a guide +to individuals or groups who may wish to attempt the difficult but +rewarding study of revolutions. As such, it is merely suggestive, but +it is complete enough so that anyone using all the leads these books +and their bibliographies offer would soon find himself very completely +immersed in the subject. + + +_I. Historical Writing on the Four Revolutions_ + +The first part of this bibliography aims to introduce the reader to +some of the best-known historical writing about the four revolutions +with which we are here concerned. Some of the later and not yet tested +writing on these periods will also be included. But here least of all +could anything like completeness be attempted. A full bibliography of +French history alone from 1750 to 1815 would list books enough to fill +a library; at a guess, including pamphlets and articles in periodicals, +there would be well over three hundred thousand titles. Writings on +the Russian revolution are already almost as numerous, and even more +varied. The reader will simply find in these books an opportunity to +check the supply of facts from which we have attempted to discover +uniformities in the course of our revolutions. + + +A. ENGLAND + +Eduard Bernstein, _Cromwell and Communism_. London, 1930. A belated +but useful translation of the famous revisionist’s _Sozialismus und +Demokratie in der grossen englischen Revolution_ which appeared in +German before the war. This is a necessary correction to the purely +political and conventional interests of Gardiner, and even of Firth. + +L. F. Brown, _The Political Activities of the Baptists and Fifth +Monarchy Men in England during the Interregnum_. Washington, 1912. + +C. H. Firth, _Oliver Cromwell and the Rule of the Puritans in England_. +3rd edition. London, 1924. The great work of our generation on Cromwell. + +S. R. Gardiner, _A History of England, 1603-1642_; _A History of +the Great Civil War, 1642-1649_; _A History of the Commonwealth and +Protectorate, 1649-1656_. Various editions and volumes. The whole work +is usually in some 17 volumes. This is the “classic” history of the +period, written in the last half of the nineteenth century. It is a +sound but rather dull political history, but it does not touch at all +on much that would interest us in the fields of economic, social, and +intellectual history. + +G. P. Gooch, _English Democratic Ideas in the Seventeenth Century_. 2nd +edition with notes and appendices by H. J. Laski. Cambridge, England, +1927. Indispensable. + +H. J. C. Grierson, _Cross Currents in English Literature of the +Seventeenth Century_. London, 1929. Excellent intellectual history. + +T. C. Pease, _The Leveller Movement_. Washington, 1916. A very useful +monograph, especially as a corrective to Bernstein’s socialistic view +of Lilburne and the Levelers. + +L. von Ranke, _A History of England principally in the Seventeenth +Century_. English translation, London, 1875. Another classic of +narrative history. + +G. M. Trevelyan, _England under the Stuarts_. New York, 1930. Perhaps +the best of our modern manuals, though distinctly in the traditions +of pleasant British liberalism, which are always a bit shocked by the +facts of revolution. This book has a convenient bibliography. + + +B. AMERICA + +C. W. Alvord, _The Mississippi Valley in British Politics_. 2 vols. +Cleveland, 1917. An important monograph opening up an important field +neglected in earlier studies of the American revolution. + +C. M. Andrews, _Colonial Background of the American Revolution_. New +Haven, 1924. + +C. L. Becker, _The Eve of the Revolution_ (Vol. 11 of the _Chronicles +of America_). New Haven, 1921. _The Declaration of Independence._ New +York, 1922. Both these books bring to the study of political change a +rare and thorough knowledge of how men think and feel. + +G. L. Beer, _British Colonial Policy, 1754-1756_. New York, 1907. The +last volume of a thorough monographic treatment of the old British +Empire, especially with respect to matters of trade and taxation. + +B. Faÿ, _The Revolutionary Spirit in France and in the United States_. +English translation, New York, 1927. Extremely valuable for the study +of ideas. + +J. F. Jameson, _The American Revolution Considered as a Social +Movement_. Princeton, 1926. Suggestive, and in many ways a pioneer +essay. But a long and thorough monograph with the same title would be +useful. Recent Marxist attempts to do something of the sort have not +amounted to much. + +J. C. Miller, _Sam Adams: Pioneer in Propaganda_. Boston, 1936. One of +the best studies of revolutionary propaganda and technique available +for any revolution. + +A. M. Schlesinger, _Colonial Merchants and the American Revolution_. +New York, 1918. This monograph brought the realistic study of the +American revolution a tremendous leap forward. + +G. O. Trevelyan, _The American Revolution. George III and Charles +James Fox_, the concluding part of _The American Revolution_. Bound +with the above in a uniform edition of 6 vols., New York, 1920-1922. +This is a “classic” with the overtones of being dated which the word +often carries. Written by a distinguished Whig historian, it is more +favorable to American “rights” in the War of Independence than most of +the foregoing American books. It seems to our generation to omit very +important economic and social considerations. + +M. C. Tyler, _The Literary History of the American Revolution_. 2 vols. +New York, 1897. Also a “classic” but not by any means dated. + +C. H. Van Tyne, _A History of the Founding of the American Republic_. +2 vols. Boston, 1922, 1929. A standard work of professional historical +scholarship. + + +C. FRANCE + +A. Aulard, _The French Revolution: A Political History_. English +translation. 4 vols., New York, 1910. The best example of official +Republican history of the great revolution, by one who was in some ways +a spiritual descendant of the Girondins. Leftist and anti-clerical bias. + +C. Brinton, _A Decade of Revolution, 1789-1799_. New York, 1934. + +G. Bruun, _Europe and the French Imperium, 1799-1814_. New York, +1938. This book and the preceding one, volumes 12 and 13 of _The +Rise of Modern Europe_, edited by W. L. Langer, provide a critical +bibliographical guide to the period of the French revolution, and +incorporate the important modern research in the field. + +A. Cochin, _Les sociétés de pensée et la démocratie_. Paris, 1921. +Essential to the study of the work of pressure groups in the +preparation of the revolution. Conservative bias. + +P. Gaxotte, _The French Revolution_. English translation, New York, +1932. Perhaps the most sensible of modern works written avowedly +from a point of view far to the Right--Royalist, in fact. But since +almost all Americans get their knowledge of the French revolution from +conventional anti-clerical Republican professors of the Third Republic, +Gaxotte’s work is recommended as an antidote. + +A. Lichtenberger, _Le socialisme et la révolution française_. Paris, +1899. + +A. Mathiez, _The French Revolution_. English translation, New +York, 1928. _La vie chère et le mouvement social sous la Terreur._ +Paris, 1927. Mathiez was the heir of the Mountain as Aulard was of +the Gironde. Mathiez is a reliable investigator of facts, and he +was interested in the kind of facts we are now interested in. His +generalizations are ruled by an extremely innocent version of the +doctrine of economic interpretation of history. Although he indignantly +denied he was partisan, he clearly belongs rather far to the Left. + +D. Mornet, _Les origines intellectuelles de la révolution française_. +Paris, 1933. Most of the necessary material implied in the title, +conveniently assembled. Mornet has conventional French Republican +notions about the role of the _philosophes_ in the preparation of the +revolution. Excellent bibliography. + +F. Rocquain, _The Revolutionary Spirit preceding the French +Revolution_. English translation, abridged, London, 1894. An attempt to +lessen attention on the writings of the _philosophes_ and turn it to +concrete quarrels and grievances in the last years of the old regime. + +H. A. Taine, _The Origins of Contemporary France_. English translation, +6 vols., New York, 1876-1894. The classic attack on the revolution +and all its works, written by a disappointed liberal and French +patriot after the War of 1870. Still a mine of information, though its +particular bias is no longer shared by many in the modern world. + + +D. RUSSIA + +The total output of books on Russia since 1917 is enormous, and little +of it measures up to the more rigorous standards academic historians +like to impose. It is suggested that an intelligent reader of the +following would not, however, be hopelessly misinformed about the +movement, and could attempt to integrate his knowledge of what has been +going on in Russia with what has gone on in other modern revolutions. + +W. R. Batsell, _Soviet Rule in Russia_. New York, 1929. A clear, +factual analysis of the machinery of government. The recent +constitutional changes do not seriously alter Batsell’s picture. + +W. H. Chamberlin, _The Russian Revolution_. 2 vols., New York, 1935. +A careful piece of work, written by an American with a command of +Russian sources. Chamberlin is not a Communist, but save to more rigid +Marxists, his work will appear reasonably detached. Good bibliography. + +Eugene Lyons, _Assignment in Utopia_. New York, 1937. Lyons is an +American radical whose long residence as a newspaper correspondent in +Russia turned him against Stalin’s rule. When allowance is made for +this bias, the book remains the best account in English of “Thermidor +in Russia”--though see under Trotsky below. + +James Mavor, _The Russian Revolution_. New York, 1928. A brief account. + +L. Trotsky, _The History of the Russian Revolution_. English +translation, 3 vols., New York, 1936 (also a single-volume edition). +This will probably be Trotsky’s masterpiece. A vivid narrative, +heightened by excursions into Marxist interpretation, mostly very keen +and even sensible. Chamberlin and Trotsky, read together, make the best +introduction possible to the study of the Russian revolution. Trotsky’s +_The Revolution Betrayed_, New York, 1937, is a bitter and interesting +attack on the present regime in Russia, which he himself has christened +“Thermidorean.” + +S. and B. Webb, _Soviet Communism: A New Civilisation?_, 2 vols., +New York, 1936. For American readers, this is probably the best and +most persuasive defense of the present regime in Russia, and may be +recommended as an antidote to the writings of disenchanted liberals +and angry Trotskyites. But it is a very soft and academic book, and +the Webbs are surely at least as much doctrinaires as others who have +written on Russia. + + +_II. The Wisdom of the Ages_ + +The formal study of revolutions as a part of the science of sociology +is a very recent thing. But revolutions are not new, nor is serious +thinking on revolutions new. From Plato and Aristotle on one can +collect a very valuable set of remarks on different phases of +revolution, mostly from books not primarily concerned with revolutions. +We have not here attempted to do more than give a random sample of +what might be done with this sort of thing. Most of the men we have +chosen to cite below were not purely intellectuals in anything like the +modern sense, and it would seem that, unsystematic though this section +of our bibliography is, it contains more wisdom about revolutions than +our fourth section, in which we list a few contemporary works formally +concerned with the sociology of revolutions. Most contemporary writers +on matters sociological are of course intellectuals. + +Plato, _The Republic_, especially Books VIII and IX. + +Aristotle, _Politics_. Book V is the famous discussion of revolutions, +but the whole work, and especially Book II, is almost as pertinent. + +Polybius, _History_. Book VI contains the well-known account of the +reasons for Roman political stability, which by contrast throws a good +deal of light on our subject, political instability. + +Thucydides, _History_. Book III, 82.2 begins one of the best clinical +reports ever written on what we have called the crisis of revolutions. + +Machiavelli, _Discourses on the First Decade of Titus Livius_. Almost +every chapter contains something of use for the student of revolution. +Book I, Chapters XXV and XXVI, are especially recommended for the +light they throw on differences between revolutions like those of +England and France and those of contemporary Turkey or Italy. + +Sainte-Beuve, “Le Cardinal de Retz,” in _Causeries du Lundi_, vol. +5, especially the passage beginning “ces pages de ses Mémoires qu’on +pourrait intituler: _Comment les révolutions commencent_.” The +interested reader may well wish to follow this up by reading De Retz’s +own memoirs, which are easily available in numerous editions in French. +There is an English version in Everyman’s Library. + +Burke, _Reflections on the Revolution in France_. This by no means +dispassionate work none the less contains a good deal that no student +of revolutions can neglect. + +Bagehot, _Physics and Politics_. This book, together with Maine’s +_Ancient Law_, sets forth a point of view about social change which +denies the possibility of achieving large-scale reforms by revolution. +Like the work of Burke, which they supplement and clarify, they must +be met and understood before the objective study of revolutions can be +carried very far. + +Pareto, _The Mind and Society_. This is a study of general sociology, +almost all parts of which are germane to our purposes in this book. +Chapters IX and X deal especially with the problem of social stability +and instability, but are hard to understand without reference to the +rest of the work. A careful study of L. J. Henderson, _Pareto’s General +Sociology: A Physiologist’s Interpretation_ (Cambridge, Massachusetts, +1935) will help get around this difficulty. Pareto is cited here as in +a sense summing up, clarifying and codifying views about revolution +contained in this section of our bibliography. All such views--neither +“anti-intellectualist” nor “conservative” adequately describes +them--are anathema to most Marxists and “liberals” in present-day +America. But they have been held so long and so firmly by men who were +not altogether fools nor villains that the least the liberal can do is +examine them. + +Le Play, _L’organisation de la famille_; also the volumes of _Les +ouvriers européens_. Le Play and his school merit our attention for +much the same reason as does Polybius. Le Play studied the family with +great care, and came to certain conclusions about the persistence of +certain sentiments and actions among men which no student of attempted +social change can afford to neglect. + +F. S. Oliver, _The Endless Adventure_. Oliver was a conservatively +minded Englishman who in this volume wrote about one of the least +revolutionary of statesmen, Robert Walpole. Again it is useful to us +because if we do not understand social stability we cannot hope to +understand social instability. Walpole himself is as perfect an example +of the man fitted to preserve an old society as Lenin is of the man +fitted to guide a new society. + + +_III. The Marxists_ + +There is no doubt that Marx and his followers have made great +contributions to our understanding of revolutions--contributions almost +as great as those they have made to the making of revolutions. We +cannot, however, regard even the best Marxist writing as an altogether +satisfactory approach to the scientific study of revolutions. Indeed +their use of the sacred word “science” resembles in many ways the +use made of the same word by the disciples of Mary Baker Eddy. +Marxist thought is a mixture of useful and genuinely objective +observations properly framed as uniformities, and of prophecies, +moral exhortations, theological and philosophical speculation, and +other elements we may loosely call propaganda. The concept of the +class struggle, for instance, belongs to the first sort; in itself, it +is a fruitful notion, and one which has enriched sociology, in spite +of the exaggerations and simplicities with which it has been applied +by many Marxists. The notion of the dictatorship of the proletariat +belongs in a sense to both sorts; it is a useful lead in the study of +past revolutions, but it is also in Marxist hands an ideal, a goal, a +prophecy. Finally, the notion of the classless society is almost wholly +a bit of theology or, more specifically, eschatology. + +In any given work by a Marxist, the disentanglement of what we may +call the _scientific_ elements from what we may call, with an equal +desire to use good rather than bad words, the _moralistic_ elements is +almost as difficult as a similar operation on the work of the classical +economists. In each case it has to be made separately. We need here +only caution against certain of the more specific forms in which +Marxist moral fervor and good intentions may be found distorting their +work as scientists. + +First there is pure fervor, writing obviously intended for the +faithful, writing which from its very form is clearly a kind of +rhapsody. Then there is writing definitely aimed at achieving a +specific revolutionary end, writing closely aimed at action, writing +not even meant by the writer to be detached and objective. There is +the much-too-simple application of formulas and clichés to specific +situations. Much of this writing is sincere and earnest, and the +writers really believe that they are applying scientific methods +to sociological problems. The narrow application of the economic +interpretation of history is a very frequent example of this kind of +thing. All human action is by the more innocent Marxists interpreted +as the logical application of economic interests to a concrete +situation. It must be said in fairness to Marx, Engels, and their +greater followers that they are not themselves usually guilty of such +unrealistic simplification. + +Finally, current Marxist writing is confused by the number of sects +that have developed within the movement, each one claiming to be +orthodox. Of the sect which in a _de facto_ way can most clearly +claim orthodoxy, that established in power in Russia today, one may +say that it represents a kind of hardening of doctrine, a fixation of +theory into dogma which may in the long run permit a good deal more +actual open-mindedness and experiment than is now possible. In the +meantime official Marxism has become a conservative and established +belief--which may well explain why in America good rebels like Mr. +Max Eastman and subtle but conscientious theorists like Mr. Kenneth +Burke are so worried over its inadequacies; have, indeed, begun a more +radical “revisionism” than any yet attempted. + +The literature is enormous, and we do not intend to do more than list +below a few general elementary discussions of Marxism, and a few of +the more important works of the great men in the tradition. We have +deliberately chosen, wherever possible, works in which the concrete +discussion of actual revolutions is more important than pure theory. + +M. M. Bober, _Karl Marx’s Interpretation of History_. Cambridge, +Massachusetts, 1927. + +Max Eastman, _Marx and Lenin: The Science of Revolution_. New York, +1927. + +Sidney Hook, _Towards the Understanding of Karl Marx_. New York, 1933. + +H. J. Laski, _Communism_. New York, 1927. + +A. D. Lindsay, _Karl Marx’s Capital: an introductory essay_. New ed. +Oxford, 1937. + +V. Pareto, _Les systèmes socialistes_. Paris, 1902. + +[E. Burns], _A Handbook of Marxism_. New York, 1935. This is one of the +most useful of the various collections of bits of the writings of the +great Marxists. It includes some of the most important work of Marx, +Engels, Lenin, and Stalin. + +Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, _The Communist Manifesto_. Edited by +D. Ryazanoff. London, 1930. The rich notes in this full-sized volume +expand the brief original Manifesto into a critical commentary on +Marxism. + +Of Marx the following is a suggested beginning, neglecting entirely +the ponderous _Capital: The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte_, +_Revolution and Counter-Revolution, or Germany in 1848_, _Civil War +in France_ (sometimes called the _Paris Commune_) and _The Poverty of +Philosophy_. + +Of Engels: _The Condition of the Working Class in England in 1844_, +_Landmarks of Scientific Socialism_ (Anti-Dühring). + +Of Lenin: _Imperialism_, _The State and Revolution_. (Both of these are +in a handy single volume issued by the Vanguard Press, New York, 1926.) + + +_IV. The Sociology of Revolutions_ + +The following section contains a selected list of modern books on +revolutions in general. Such writing is necessarily very varied +indeed. Some of the books listed below are careful studies by trained +sociologists; some are the work of cranks with a variety of cutting +tools to grind; some, directly in the Marxist tradition, seem to +belong here rather than in the preceding section because of their +direct preoccupation with the sociology of revolutions. We have been +obliged to be fairly narrow in our interpretation of the subject. In a +sense almost everything that appears nowadays on social and political +problems might be catalogued as dealing at some point with the +sociology of revolutions. To take a wide and somewhat random choice of +well-known figures, most of the important work of men like Spengler, H. +G. Wells, Ortega y Gasset, and A. J. Toynbee touches upon the question +of revolutions and social change. But a bibliography as inclusive as +this would be pointless or endless. We have, therefore, simply made +a choice of general books on the specific subject of the comparative +study of revolution. + +Brooks Adams, _The Theory of Social Revolutions_. New York, 1913. One +of the earliest predictions of the decline of the West. Should be read +with Mr. George Soule’s book below. + +Arthur Bauer, _Essai sur les révolutions_. Paris, 1908. Approaches +the problem from the psychology of the individual and his activity +in crowds. Has an interesting conceptual scheme of revolutions as a +general phenomenon. + +C. Delisle Burns, _The Principles of Revolution_. London, 1920. From +the point of view of modern anti-intellectualism, an unrealistic study +of “rationalizations.” + +L. P. Edwards, _The Natural History of Revolutions_. Chicago, 1927. +Unpretentious, suggestive, tentative. One of the best introductions to +the subject available in English. Mr. Edwards does not pretend to do +more than sketch the essential problems and indicate possible further +work. Admirably free from special pleading. + +T. Geiger, _Die Masse und ihre Aktion: Ein Beitrag zur Soziologie der +Revolutionen_. Stuttgart, 1926. A psychological study, with a Marxist +tinge. To a non-German, a bit in the clouds. + +H. M. Hyndman, _The Evolution of Revolution_. London, 1927. By one of +the pioneers of Marxist Socialism in England. Not very illuminating +nowadays. + +G. Lebon, _The Psychology of Revolution_. English translation. New +York, 1913. Lebon’s reputation as a social psychologist has sunk +considerably. This is the work of a frightened anti-intellectualist. + +Arthur Liebert, _Vom Geist der Revolutionen_. Berlin, 1919. A brief +discussion of the rational and emotional origins of revolution, and an +analysis of the crisis period. + +Leon de Poncius, _Les forces secrètes de la révolution_. Paris, 1929. A +good example of the kind of writing which attributes modern revolutions +to wicked conspirators--in this case Jews and freemasons. For those who +do not read French, the works of Mrs. Nesta Webster may be recommended +as an adequate sample of this approach. See especially her _Secret +Societies and Subversive Movements_, London, 1924, and _The French +Revolution: A Study in Democracy_. New York, 1920. + +C. Malaparte, _Coup d’état, the Technique of Revolution_. English +translation, New York, 1932. An annoyingly bright young Italian Fascist +intellectual writes on _the only_ way to make a revolution. As narrow +and, in a perverted sense, idealistic as any Marxist writing. + +E. D. Martin, _Farewell to Revolution_. New York, 1935. A very able and +sensible writer on political and social problems has here allowed his +fears to lead him into writing a bad book. Mr. Martin, as his choice +of title indicates, is writing a book _against_ revolutions of all +sorts. Hastily assembled from inadequate materials. Stands up badly in +comparison with L. P. Edwards’s book above. + +R. W. Postgate, _How to Make a Revolution_. New York, 1934. An English +Leftist, formerly a Communist and now apparently just Labour, writes +rather wistfully about the possibilities of a decent, respectable +revolution in Western countries. A good deal of useful discussion +of the techniques of modern revolutionary parties of the Left, with +touches of very English humor. + +_Revolution from 1789 to 1906._ London, 1920. Mr. Postgate has here +made a handy collection of constitutions, bills of rights, manifestoes +and similar documents touching the important revolutionary movements of +the period. + +S. A. Reeves, _The Natural Laws of Social Convulsions_. New York, 1933. +A most ambitious attempt to apply the methods of the physical sciences +to the subject. Mr. Reeves is not skeptical enough to be a scientist. +He emerges with forty-five “natural” or “cosmic” laws, of which Law +XLV is a not unfair example: “Man would rather Die, even in Prolonged +Agony, than to Think.” The work of a doctrinaire person on the edge of +the lunatic fringe, and much influenced by the position of men like +Herbert Spencer, it has none the less a good deal of useful material. + +E. Rosenstock-Hüssy, _Die europäische Revolutionen_. Jena, 1931. +Written in what to an American seems the German cloud-cuckoo-land +of beautiful and inexact ideas, choosing convenient and rejecting +inconvenient facts, something in the tradition of Spengler, but with +the kindly hopes of a man of good will. Full of interesting suggestions +and flashes of insight, poetic to a prosaic nature. An English version +by the author is promised. + +S. D. Schmalhausen, Editor, _Recovery through Revolution_. New York, +1933. Chapters contributed by Louis Fischer, Harold Laski, Carleton +Beals, Robert Briffault, G. Salvemini, and others. Rapid narrative +accounts of the principal fields of revolutionary activity since the +war, Germany, Russia, China, South America, Italy, and Spain. + +H. See, _Evolution et révolutions_. Paris, 1929. A somewhat pedestrian +examination of the English, French, and American revolutions, those +of the nineteenth century and the Russian revolution. Excellent brief +bibliographies for the revolutions discussed. + +P. A. Sorokin, _Social and Cultural Dynamics_. Vol. III, _Fluctuations +of Social Relationships, War and Revolutions_. New York, 1937. Mr. +Sorokin’s general position is an emotional dislike for the contemporary +world, which is, he thinks, about to undergo a worse series of wars +and revolutions than any the human race has yet had to put up with. +This Volume III has a most imposing set of statistics to show that +revolutions have been more or less endemic in Western civilization. +Some such conclusion might have been made safely without all these +statistics, which in detail are not altogether reliable. They tend to +exaggerate the amount of violence and bloodshed since 1900. + +G. Soule, _The Coming American Revolution_. New York, 1934. A +thoughtful, temperate book written by one of the more temperate of +American “liberals.” The book deals much more widely with the general +subject of revolutions than its title would indicate. + + + + +INDEX + + + Abbott, Professor W. C., 29 + + Abortive revolution, 33, 34 + + Adams, John, 156 + + Adams, Sam, 53, 59, 104, 116, 124, 135, 297 + + _Agreement of the People, The_, 198 + + Albemarle, 250, 261 + + All-Russian Central Executive Committee, 207 + + All-Russian Congress of Soviets, 207 + + American Civil War, 33 + + American Revolution, 34, 50, 84, 88, 100, 106, 155, 165, 195, 216, 229 + + Anabaptists, 154 + + Antinomians, 154 + + Antonov-Ovseënko, 127 + + Arnold, Matthew, 57 + + Articles of Confederation, the, 253 + + Asceticism, 227 + + Assembly of Notables, the, 89 + + + Babeuf, 215 + + Bacon, 27 + + Bagehot, 131 + + Bailly, 124, 134 + + Barebone, Praise-God, 214 + + Bastille Day, 92, 97, 98, 102, 289 + + Baxter, 120 + + Beaumarchais, 82 + + Bentham, Jeremy, 27, 235 + + Berkman, Alexander, 301 + + Bitzenko, Madame, 127 + + Blake, Admiral, 232, 250 + + Bolsheviks, 122, 128, 166, 180, 221, 268 + + Bonaparte, Napoleon, 247 + + Boston Massacre, 88 + + Boston Port Bill, 43 + + Boston Tea Party, 46, 88, 104 + + Brest-Litovsk, 127 + + Brissot, 124, 157 + + Brissotins, 157 + + Brusilov, 123 + + Bunker Hill, 97 + + Burke, Edmund, 47 + + + Cabarrus, Teresia de, 261 + + Cagliostro, 77 + + Camus, 124 + + Career open to talent, 75 + + Carlyle, 57 + + Carrier, 137 + + Cassandra, 81 + + Catherine the Great, 216 + + Cavaliers, 68 + + Ceremonial, 214, 235 + + Chamberlin, W. H., 198, 204, 210, 238 + + Charles I, 50, 51, 84, 106, 109 + + Charles II, 259 + + Chase, Stuart, 27 + + Chaucer, 29 + + Cheka, 133, 137, 207 + + Chicherin, 116, 127 + + Chkheidze, 170 + + Cicero, 31 + + Civil Constitution of the Clergy, the, 172 + + Class struggle, 64, 71, 79, 222, 240 + + Cochin, A., 53, 98 + + Coleridge, 193 + + Comité de surété générale, 207 + + Comités révolutionnaires, 207 + + Committee of Public Safety, 206 + + Committees of Correspondence, 104 + + Communist party, the, 182, 188 + + Compromisists, 123, 159, 170 + + Comsomol, 227 + + Conceptual scheme, 17, 23, 25, 244, 292 + + Concord, 97, 289 + + Condorcet, 124, 133, 176 + + Conservative revolution, 32 + + Continental Congress, 89, 156 + + Convention, the, 207 + + Criminals and revolution, 139, 209 + + Cromwell, 69, 125, 137, 143, 189, 190, 191, 245, 247, 251 + + + Danton, 124, 157, 197, 201, 284 + + Desmoulins, 124 + + Diaz, Porfirio, 36 + + Dictatorship, 34, 200, 248 + + Digby, 172 + + Diggers, 126, 152, 204 + + Disorder, endemic, 38 + + Downing, 250, 261 + + Du Barry, Madame, 77 + + Dubois, Abbé, 77 + + Dzerzhinsky, Felix, 127, 133 + + + Economic change, 276 + + Economic motivation, 47, 70, 79, 129, 223, 239 + + Economic prosperity, 41 + + Economic want, 41, 43 + + Edwards, Lyford P., 55 + + Eliot, Sir John, 85 + + Emigration, 260 + + English Revolution, 40, 50, 72, 84, 85, 100, 106, 151, 164, + 195, 197, 202, 214, 245, 259, 263 + + _Enragés_, the, 205 + + Episcopalians, 151 + + Equilibrium, 24, 33, 295 + + Essex, 69, 116 + + Estates-General, the, 90 + + Everard, Robert, 126 + + + Falkland, 172, 176 + + February Revolution, 92, 103, 122, 289 + + Feuillants, 153, 165, 169 + + Fifth Monarchy Men, 152 + + Figaro, 82 + + Force, use of, 106 + + Ford, Henry, 75 + + Foreign war, role of, 175, 238 + + Fouché, 192, 251, 256, 261 + + Fourier, 15 + + France, Anatole, 213 + + Freemasons, 53 + + French Revolution, 40, 48, 84, 89, 107, 117, 165, 185, 194, + 199, 201, 215, 245, 255, 258, 262 + + French revolutionary calendar, 215 + + Freud, 46 + + Friends of Peace, 170 + + + Gage, 88, 107 + + _Gaspee_, the, 88 + + George III, 51, 100, 109 + + Gironde, 157 + + Girondins, the, 153, 169 + + Gogol, 275 + + Gooch, Professor G. P., 60, 204 + + Goodwin, John, 203 + + Gorki, 216, 219, 250 + + Gottschalk, Professor L. R., 134 + + Grand Duke Michael, 94 + + Grand Remonstrance, 87 + + Graydon, Alexander, 122 + + Grierson, Professor, 59, 195 + + Guchkov, 126 + + Gwyn, Nell, 261 + + + Hampden, John, 40, 69, 87, 116 + + Hancock, John, 47, 116 + + Hare, John, 204 + + Haselrig, 87 + + _Heads of the Proposals, The_, 198 + + Hébert, 116, 201 + + _Hébertistes_, 205 + + Henderson, Professor L. J., 19 + + Henry, Patrick, 95, 145 + + d’Herbois, Collot, 137 + + Historical method, 21, 22 + + Holles, Denzil, 86, 87, 148, 177 + + Holmby House, 155, 197 + + Homosexuality, 281 + + House of Commons, five members of, 87 + + Hutchinson, Governor, 121 + + Hutchinson, Mrs. Lucy, 72 + + Hutton, Barbara, 287 + + Hyde, 172 + + + Idealism and revolution, 217 + + Idealists and revolution, 142, 190 + + Ideas, role of, 63 + + Independents, 54, 140, 152, 172, 180, 202 + + Induction, 17 + + Industrial Revolution, 35 + + Ireton, 125, 252 + + + Jacobins, 117, 123, 129, 165, 168, 180, 188, 194, 212, + 219, 221, 234 + + James I, 49 + + Jameson, J. F., 121, 223 + + Jefferson, 101, 190, 284 + + Joffe, 127 + + Johnson, Mrs. Francis, 225 + + “July Days,” 168 + + + Kadets, 123, 149, 153, 159, 289 + + Kalinin, 127 + + Kamenev, 126, 127 + + _Kapital, Das_, 129, 221, 284 + + Karakhan, 127 + + Kerensky, 92, 103, 116, 126, 159, 168, 170, 176, 189 + + Kimbolton, Lord, 87 + + Konavalov, 116, 134 + + Kornilov, 160 + + Ku Klux Klan, 185 + + + Lafayette, 65, 67, 90, 112, 116, 124, 128, 132, 148, 157 + + Lameths, the, 124, 157 + + Laud, 84 + + Lavoisier, 124 + + Law, John, 47 + + Leaders, revolutionary, 124 + + League of the Militant Godless, 257 + + Lenin, 115, 116, 126, 144, 160, 189, 190, 191, 199, 219, + 226, 235, 246, 252, 284, 297 + + Lenthall, 95 + + Le Play, 279 + + Lerner, Max, 15 + + Levellers, 152, 199 + + Lewis, Sinclair, 75 + + Lilburne, John, 62, 125, 140 + + Linde, Fedor, 148 + + Long Parliament, 86, 97, 106 + + Louis XV, 49 + + Louis XVI, 107, 109 + + Ludlow, 125 + + Lunacharsky, 145, 160 + + Lunatic fringe, 139 + + Lvov, Prince, 126, 159 + + Lyons, Eugene, 265, 267 + + + Machiavelli, 27 + + Machinery of government, 238 + + Madison, 175 + + Maitland, F. W., 193 + + Malesherbes, 52 + + Marat, 116, 124, 134, 197, 201, 235 + + Marie Antoinette, 287 + + Marston Moor, 151 + + Marten, Henry, 141 + + Martin, E. D., 272 + + Marx, Karl, 39, 115, 224, 235, 254, 296 + + Marxists, 28, 46, 61, 129, 167, 176, 221, 224, 275, 300 + + Mathiez, Albert, 252 + + Maximum, Law of the, 209 + + Mencken, H. L., 225 + + Mensheviks, 123, 149, 159 + + Mercier, L. S., 78 + + Merriman, Professor R. B., 48 + + Military Revolution Committee, 197 + + Militia Order, 189 + + Miliukov, 116, 123, 126, 148, 159 + + Mill, 57 + + Millenarians, 204, 234 + + Miller, J. C., 136 + + Milton, John, 72, 116, 284 + + Minorities, role of, 182 + + Mirabeau, 91, 95, 99, 124, 133, 157, 176, 189 + + Molasses Act, 45 + + Molière, 131 + + Monge, 124 + + Montaigne, 301 + + Morison, Professor S. E., 125 + + Morley, Christopher, 29 + + Morris, 57 + + Mounier, 157 + + Mountain, 157 + + Muir, Ramsay, 42 + + + Napoleon, 107, 250 + + Narodniks, 159 + + Naseby, 151 + + National Assembly, 91 + + Nationalism, 232, 254 + + Nationalistic revolution, 34 + + Natural law, 61 + + Navigation Act, 44, 45 + + Necker, 52, 90, 98, 102 + + New Economic Policy, 265 + + Newman, 57 + + New Model Army, 120, 152, 154, 164, 172, 182, 187 + + Nicholas II, 93, 109 + + + October revolution, 160, 171, 197 + + Order Number One, 173 + + d’Orléans, Duc, 102, 124, 134 + + + Paine, Thomas, 116, 130 + + Pareto, V., 24, 27, 75 + + Parliament, Short, 86 + + Paris Commune of 1871, 33 + + Pâris-Duverney, 47, 77 + + Parlements, 89 + + Parliament of Saints, 199 + + Peasantry, 73 + + _Peggy Stewart_, the, 88 + + Pétion, 157 + + Petition of Right, 85 + + Petrovsky, 238 + + Pettee, Dr. George, 46 + + Philosophes, 58, 60 + + Pitt, William, 225 + + Plato, 81 + + Plebiscites, 186, 289 + + Poincaré, H., 21 + + Pokrovsky, 127 + + Presbyterians, 120, 140, 152, 165, 172 + + Pressure groups, 52, 53, 54, 99, 185 + + Preston Pans, 155 + + Pride’s Purge, 155, 171 + + Proletariat, 73, 74 + + Propaganda, 27, 62, 168 + + Protopopov, 66 + + Puritans, 129, 139, 224 + + Pym, 87, 116, 176 + + + Quebec Act, 45, 88 + + + Rasputin, 78 + + Religious symbolism, 236 + + Renaming, 214 + + Revolution, abortive, 33, 34; + American, 34, 50, 84, 88, 100, 106, 155, 165, 195, 216, 229; + conservative, 32; + criminals and, 139, 209; + definitions of, 35; + English, 40, 50, 72, 84, 85, 100, 106, 151, 164, 195, + 197, 202, 214, 245, 259, 263; + February, 92, 103, 122, 289; + French, 40, 48, 84, 89, 107, 117, 165, 185, 194, 199, + 201, 215, 245, 255, 258, 262; + idealism and, 217; + idealists and, 142, 190; + nationalistic, 34; + October, 160, 171, 197; + Russian, 40, 51, 84, 85, 92, 100, 108, 158, 165, 184, + 194, 197, 199, 202, 216, 246, 256, 265; + territorial, 33 + + Revolutions of 1848, 33 + + Revolutionary proselyters, 232 + + Revolutionist, clichés about, 114 + + Richelieu, 260 + + Rivarol, 73 + + Robespierre, 124, 142, 157, 189, 190, 191, 197, 201, + 245, 252, 283, 297 + + Rogers, John, 126 + + Roland, Madame, 72, 124 + + Root-and-Branch Bill, 172 + + Rousseau, 63 + + Ruling class, 64, 278 + + Rump, 155, 199, 207, 245 + + Russian revolution, 40, 51, 84, 85, 92, 100, 108, 158, + 165, 184, 194, 197, 199, 202, 216, 246, 256, 265 + + + Sade, Marquis de, 138 + + Sainte-Beuve, 131 + + St. Huruge, Marquis de, 133 + + St. Simon, Comte de, 215 + + Schlesinger, Professor Arthur M., 44, 156 + + Scientific method, 16, 30 + + Self-denying ordinance, 172 + + Sexby, Edward, 125, 233 + + Shaftesbury, 250 + + Shays’s Rebellion, 270 + + Shelley, 115, 133 + + Ship Money, 54 + + Short Parliament, 86 + + Siéyès, 62 + + Signers of Declaration of Independence, 124 + + Smith, Adam, 46 + + Social change, 278 + + Socialist-Revolutionary party, 123, 149, 159 + + Sociétés de pensée, 53 + + Society for Encouraging Trade and Commerce with + the Province of Massachusetts Bay, 104 + + Sokolov, N. D., 174 + + Sons of Liberty, 84, 104, 121, 188, 212 + + Sovereignty, problem of, 161 + + Spencer, H., 15 + + Stalin, 127, 168, 216, 219, 236, 246, 247, 250, 257, + 266, 269 + + Stamp Act, 42, 44, 45 + + _Stewart_, the _Peggy_, 88 + + Stoddard, Lothrop, 128 + + Stolypin, 52 + + Strachey, Lytton, 203 + + Strafford, 51, 84, 97 + + Strode, 87 + + Sukharevka Market, 209 + + Sverdlov, 127 + + + Taine, 73 + + Talleyrand, 116, 133, 261 + + Tallien, 263 + + Talma, 77 + + Tammany Hall, 185 + + Tawney, R. H., 226 + + Tax reform, 45 + + Tennyson, 57 + + Tereschenko, 126, 134 + + Theophrastus, 29, 131 + + Théot, Catherine, 205 + + Third Estate, 90 + + Thucydides, 27, 294 + + Tocqueville, A. de, 273 + + Townshend, 88 + + Trevelyan, Professor G. M., 202 + + Trotsky, 44, 100, 103, 126, 130, 144, 160, 183, 185, + 192, 194, 219, 246, 252, 283, 285 + + Trudoviks, 159 + + Tseretelli, 145, 170 + + Turgenev, 58 + + Turgot, 45, 52 + + + Uniformities, 36, 96, 105, 167, 201, 206, 244, 247, + 271, 274, 286, 299 + + + Valentine, 86 + + Vallée, Rudy, 75 + + Vane, Sir Harry, 116, 250 + + Vergniaud, 145 + + Violence, role of, 92, 138, 179, 212, 237 + + Voltaire, 77 + + + Washington, George, 45, 69, 116, 137, 247 + + Washington, Laurence, 223 + + Watteau, 77 + + Webb, Sidney and Beatrice, 227, 265 + + Weber, Max, 226 + + Webster, Mrs. Nesta, 67 + + Wells, H. G., 178 + + Westminster Assembly, 153 + + Winstanley, 125, 126 + + Wordsworth, 111 + + + Zinoviev, 145 + + * * * * * + +Transcriber’s Notes: + +Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in +the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have +been corrected. + +Punctuation has been made consistent. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78065 *** diff --git a/78065-h/78065-h.htm b/78065-h/78065-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6efbc7e --- /dev/null +++ b/78065-h/78065-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11668 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + The anatomy of revolution | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .5em; 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+} + +p.dropcap:first-letter{ + float: left; + font-size: 2.75em; + padding-right: 0.05em; + margin-top: 0.1em; + margin-bottom: -0.1em; + line-height: 0.65em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter{ + float: none; + font-size: 1em; + padding-right: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + line-height: 1em; +} +/* End Dropcaps */ + +/* Half-title page */ +.half-title{ + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; + text-align: center; + font-size: x-large; + padding: 6em 0; +} + +/* >>+++ END ADDITIONS +++<< */ + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent1 {text-indent: -2.5em;} +.poetry .indent20 {text-indent: 8.0em;} + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp49 {width: 49%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp49 {width: 100%;} +.illowp25 {width: 25%;} +.illowp47 {width: 47%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp47 {width: 100%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78065 ***</div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp49" style="max-width: 106.0625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover."> +</figure> + +<div class="half-title"> +<p class="center" style="margin-bottom:2em"><span class="xxlargefont"><span class="smcap">the</span> <em>Anatomy of</em> <span class="smcap">revolution</span></span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp25" style="max-width: 10.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/logo.jpg" alt="Publisher logo."> +</figure></div> + +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center largefont"><em>BOOKS BY CRANE BRINTON</em></p> + +<p class="center p2"> +THE ANATOMY OF REVOLUTION +</p> + + +<p class="center">THE LIVES OF TALLEYRAND</p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp47" style="max-width: 40.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="Title page."> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h1 class="nobreak"> + <span class="smcap">the</span> <em>Anatomy<br> + of</em> <span class="smcap">revolution</span> + </h1> +</div> + +<p class="center p2"><em><span class="xlargefont">BY CRANE BRINTON</span></em><br> +<span class="smallfont">ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF HISTORY, HARVARD UNIVERSITY</span></p> + +<p class="center p4"><span class="xlargefont">W. W. NORTON & COMPANY, INC.</span><br> +<span class="largefont"><em>Publishers</em> · <em>New York</em></span></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1938, by<br> +<span class="smcap">W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.</span><br> +70 Fifth Avenue, New York</p> + +<p class="center p2"><em>First Edition</em></p> + + +<p class="center p4 smallfont"> + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +</p> +</div> +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="center">TO ALDEN AND HELEN HOAG,<br> +WHO LISTENED TO IT ALL</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak"> + CONTENTS + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="toc" style="border:0em; padding:0em; border-spacing:0em"> +<tr><td class="toctitle" style="padding-bottom:0.75em">FOREWORD</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#FOREWORD">9</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> I. THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF REVOLUTIONS</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_one">11</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE NECESSITY FOR A SCIENTIFIC APPROACH, <a href="#Ref_11">11</a>. +II. THE BARE ELEMENTS OF SCIENTIFIC METHODS, <a href="#Ref_16">16</a>. +III. THE APPLICATION OF SCIENTIFIC METHODS TO THIS +STUDY, <a href="#Ref_21">21</a>. IV. LIMITATIONS OF THE SUBJECT, <a href="#Ref_31">31</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> II. THE OLD REGIMES</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_two">38</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE DIAGNOSIS OF PRELIMINARY SIGNS, <a href="#Ref_38">38</a>. II. STRUCTURAL +WEAKNESSES, ECONOMIC AND POLITICAL, <a href="#Ref_39">39</a>. +III. THE DESERTION OF THE INTELLECTUALS, <a href="#Ref_52">52</a>. +IV. CLASSES AND CLASS ANTAGONISMS, <a href="#Ref_63">63</a>. V. SUMMARY, +<a href="#Ref_79">79</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> III. FIRST STAGES OF REVOLUTION</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_three">82</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE ETERNAL FIGARO, <a href="#Ref_82">82</a>. II. THE EVENTS OF THE +FIRST STAGES, <a href="#Ref_85">85</a>. III. SPONTANEITY OR PLANNING? <a href="#Ref_94">94</a>. +IV. THE ROLE OF FORCE, <a href="#Ref_105">105</a>. V. THE HONEYMOON, <a href="#Ref_111">111</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> IV. TYPES OF REVOLUTIONISTS</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_four">113</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE CLICHÉS, <a href="#Ref_113">113</a>. II. ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL POSITION: +RANK AND FILE, <a href="#Ref_117">117</a>. III. ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL +POSITION: LEADERS, <a href="#Ref_123">123</a>. IV. CHARACTER AND DISPOSITION, +<a href="#Ref_129">129</a>. V. SUMMARY, <a href="#Ref_145">145</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> V. THE RULE OF THE MODERATES</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_five">148</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE PROBLEM OF THE MODERATES, <a href="#Ref_148">148</a>. II. EVENTS +DURING THE RULE OF THE MODERATES, <a href="#Ref_151">151</a>. III. DUAL +SOVEREIGNTY, <a href="#Ref_161">161</a>. IV. WEAKNESSES OF THE MODERATES, +<a href="#Ref_166">166</a>. V. THE FAILURE OF THE MODERATES, <a href="#Ref_176">176</a>.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span></td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> VI. THE ACCESSION OF THE EXTREMISTS</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_six">179</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. THE COUP D’ÉTAT, <a href="#Ref_179">179</a>. II. ORGANIZATION OF THE +EXTREMISTS, <a href="#Ref_181">181</a>. III. FITNESS OF THE EXTREMISTS, +<a href="#Ref_193">193</a>. IV. THE MACHINERY OF DICTATORSHIP, <a href="#Ref_206">206</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> VII. REIGNS OF TERROR AND VIRTUE</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_seven">212</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. PERVASIVENESS OF THE TERROR, <a href="#Ref_212">212</a>. II. THE TERROR +AND THE OUTSIDER, <a href="#Ref_214">214</a>. III. THE TERROR AND THE INSIDER: +THE RELIGIOUS PARALLEL, <a href="#Ref_220">220</a>. IV. WHAT MAKES +THE TERROR? <a href="#Ref_236">236</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> VIII. THERMIDOR</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_eight">244</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. UNIVERSALITY OF THE THERMIDOREAN REACTION, +<a href="#Ref_244">244</a>. II. AMNESTY AND REPRESSION, <a href="#Ref_247">247</a>. III. RETURN +OF THE CHURCH, <a href="#Ref_255">255</a>. IV. THE SEARCH FOR PLEASURE, +<a href="#Ref_261">261</a>. V. SUMMARY, <a href="#Ref_270">270</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle"><em>Chapter</em> IX. A SUMMARY OF THE WORK OF REVOLUTIONS</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Chapter_nine">272</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. CHANGES IN INSTITUTIONS AND IDEAS, <a href="#Ref_272">272</a>. II. SOME +TENTATIVE UNIFORMITIES, <a href="#Ref_286">286</a>. III. A PARADOX OF +REVOLUTION, <a href="#Ref_299">299</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle">BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#BIBLIOGRAPHICAL_APPENDIX">303</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tocindent">I. HISTORICAL WRITING ON THE FOUR REVOLUTIONS, +<a href="#Ref_303">303</a>. II. THE WISDOM OF THE AGES, <a href="#Ref_310">310</a>. III. THE +MARXISTS, <a href="#Ref_312">312</a>. IV. THE SOCIOLOGY OF REVOLUTIONS, +<a href="#Ref_315">315</a>.</td><td></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="toctitle">INDEX</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#INDEX">321</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="FOREWORD"> + FOREWORD + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="dropcap">This book is a modified and expanded form of lectures +delivered in Boston in February and March, 1938, on the +foundation of the Lowell Institute. I wish here to thank the +officers of the Lowell Institute for giving me the opportunity +to initiate this study, and my audience for the co-operation an +audience—perhaps without knowing it—always gives. I wish also +to thank those of my friends and colleagues with whom I have +discussed the subject of this book for the last two years, and +especially Professor L. J. Henderson, the effects of whose care, +taste and judgment ought to be evident everywhere in a work +he has gone over with great thoroughness; Professor W. S. Ferguson, +who first called to my attention the inadequacy of important +parts of my uniformities when applied to Athenian history; +Professor R. B. Merriman, who very kindly placed the +manuscript of his study of seventeenth-century revolutions at +my disposal, and discussed it with me to the great profit of the +present work; Professors Frederick Merk and A. M. Schlesinger +and Dr. Richard Leopold, Americanists most gentle with me +and helpful in my invasion of a field not my own; Dr. George +Pettee; and Professor Penfield Roberts and Dr. O. H. Taylor +who, if there is anything in the adage that <i lang="la">solvitur ambulando</i>, +have had a large part in this book. Finally, I am very grateful +to my research assistant, Miss Bernice Hempel, for patient and +discerning help alike in the gathering and in the organizing +of my materials.</p> + +<p class="ir2"><span class="smcap">Crane Brinton</span></p> + +<p>PEACHAM, VERMONT.<br> +July 2, 1938.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_one"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">one</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">THE COMPARATIVE STUDY OF REVOLUTIONS</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_11"><em>I. The Necessity for a Scientific Approach</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">We are today very much aware of revolution. The bare +word itself is likely to set stirring a whole set of sentiments +and associations in the mind of any modern man or +woman. For some, perhaps for most in the older democracies +of the West, these sentiments are not far from fear and dislike. +For others, revolution is still a word of good promise, a +beginning of better things, a necessary part of the progress of +the race. Once, indeed, and not so very long ago, hopeful liberals +could believe that certain favored countries—England, the +United States, Germany, the good little countries of Europe +like Switzerland and Holland, possibly even the classic land of +revolution, France—had outgrown this kind of political instability. +Freedom in the long run might slowly broaden down +from precedent to precedent everywhere, even in South and +Central America. All this seems, like so many other Victorian +hopes, very distant to us now.</p> + +<p>For our postwar world has produced a series of revolutions +by no means limited to lands in general political disrepute. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>Russia in 1917, Central Europe in 1918-19, Italy in 1923, Spain +in 1931, Germany again in 1933, all underwent violent changes +of government to which the name revolution is usually attached. +Some of these revolutionary movements were, indeed, +not strictly in the nineteenth-century pattern: they were put +through, not in the name of liberty, equality, fraternity, but in +the name of authority, discipline, power. They were, if you +like, authoritarian, conservative, reactionary. Hitler and Mussolini +did not talk the language of Hampden, Patrick Henry, +Mirabeau, Mazzini, nor even that of Marx and Engels.</p> + +<p>The older democracies, as yet apparently stable politically, +have undergone a series of economic strains which certainly appear +more serious than similar strains they survived successfully +enough in the nineteenth century. The breakdown of the Versailles +settlement, the return of international anarchy, the difficulties +of government finances, contributed further to a sense +of insecurity in these democracies. Recent events in Russia +have, to put it mildly, bewildered and discouraged those outside +that country who in one degree or another looked hopefully +on the Russian revolution. The whole tone of writing on +politics has changed, especially in countries like England, +France, and the United States. Prophets of doom are now +almost as common as prophets of progress used to be in the +good old days when we could blandly rejoice in clichés like +“Evolution, not Revolution.”</p> + +<p>Even in the United States, where pleasant memories of 1776 +are incorporated into such unrevolutionary bodies as the Daughters +of the American Revolution, the great crash of 1929 set +all sorts of people to worrying about, or hoping for, a catastrophic +overturn. Sober people in conservative circles began to +discuss whether a little farm in Vermont wouldn’t give them +subsistence and reasonable safety from the wandering robber-bands +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>of the coming Reign of Terror. Hopeful radicals, too well +read in Marx, began to discuss whether economic privation +might not make a majority of American workers realize that +they are a proletariat, and not a group of potential capitalists. +Down through Hollywood and the columnists there ran the +naïvely cynical catch phrase, “Comes the revolution....”</p> + +<p>It is, then, almost impossible for us in these days to be indifferent +toward revolutions. Yet we shall not go far towards +understanding them unless we can maintain toward them, if +not indifference, at least detachment. This last word, one may +hope, is not just a favorable way of saying what “indifference” +says unfavorably. A physician may feel far from indifferent towards +his patient, but he will not be a good physician unless +he is detached in his observation and treatment of his patient’s +malady. We may dodge here a whole lurking set of philosophical +difficulties, and say simply that what we commonly +call modern science has as one of its basic elements the detachment +of the scientist. The scientist, <em>as a private person</em>, may +love and hate, hope and fear; <em>as a scientist</em>, he must try to leave +all this behind when he enters his laboratory or his study.</p> + +<p>To attempt to maintain in the analysis of human affairs the +detachment of the physicist or the chemist is very difficult, and +to a great many upright and intelligent people seems unprofitable, +even treasonous. You should, they feel, hate Hitler all the +time, before, while, and after you start explaining him; otherwise +your explanation may edge into extenuation.</p> + +<p>But to understand all is by no means to pardon all. At any +rate, the scientific understanding of the place of the mosquito +in yellow fever has not led us to tolerance of, or indifference +to, that particular type of mosquito. Quite the contrary. We +cannot, of course, expect such immediate and apparently spectacular +results as were obtained with yellow fever from the study +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>of man in society, from what are a bit optimistically called the +social sciences—anthropology, economics, political science, history, +sociology, and the like. But we may well consider the possibility +of approaching the study of revolutions in something +of the spirit the natural scientist carries to his work.</p> + +<p>Our aim in the following study is the modest one of attempting +to establish, as the scientist might, certain first approximations +of uniformities to be noted in the course of four successful +revolutions in modern states; the English revolution of the +1640’s, the American revolution, the great French revolution, +and the recent—or present—revolution in Russia. We must +make clear at the start some of the limitations of our study: +this is not the only, nor necessarily the best, way of studying +revolutions; this study does not pretend to be a complete +sociology of revolutions; it deliberately limits its field to four +relatively well-studied revolutions; its conclusions are to be +taken to refer to these four revolutions, and any extension of +such conclusions to other revolutions, or to revolutions in general, +is to be undertaken with caution and humility.</p> + +<p>Were we attempting to find an ideal type for revolution, +were we seeking a kind of Platonic idea of revolution, we +might be fairly reproached with picking four nice neat revolutions +which made almost too good a case, too perfect a pattern. +But we are making no such attempt. It should be very clear +that not all revolutions, past, present, and future, will conform +to the pattern here drawn. Our four revolutions are not necessarily +even “typical” in the sense the word “typical” has for +literary critics or moralists. They are simply four important +revolutions with which we have chosen to begin a work of systematization +still in its infancy. Subtler systematizations will +come later, from other and more advanced workers. Above all, +we do not here claim any prophetic wisdom. We do not expect +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>to be able to predict from this study just when and where the +next revolution will break out on this earth.</p> + +<p>At this point it may be objected that the social sciences have +been aping the natural sciences for several centuries, and got +no further forward, that they ought therefore to try and stand +on their own feet, that they ought to work out their own +methods without bothering about what has been done in the +natural sciences. There is a kernel of truth in this objection. +Certainly writers like Fourier or Herbert Spencer, who have +proclaimed themselves literally the Newtons or the Darwins of +social science, appear to have gone wrong from the start. A prophetic +soul drawing upon philosophy and the arts—a Spengler, +for instance—will probably make at least as much sense out +of the study of men in society as will the social scientist who +tries to take over <em>unaltered</em> the methods and materials of +physics or biology. Yet one hesitates to turn the study of men +in society wholly over to the Spenglers. The long tradition of +what may be called rationalism has in our society made conquests +not to be lightly abandoned even in this postwar world. +That tradition makes it imperative to attempt to continue, and +extend, the kind of work we call scientific.</p> + +<p>There has, indeed, been a great deal of nonsense written +under the protecting name of science. It is easy to sympathize +with Mr. Max Lerner’s outburst: “I am frankly skeptical when +people working on the study of societies begin arming themselves +with scalpels, slide-rules and test-tubes. For they are +promising more than they can possibly fulfill. The protestations +of complete objectivity that we have been hearing from +students of society in the past quarter century take on a religious +note: it is as if they were washing themselves in the blood +of the scientific lamb.” Some of Mr. Lerner’s objections to the +appeal to science and to scientific detachment are probably +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>those of the romantic lover of his fellow-men, and are almost +wholly irreducible by logic or experience; but some are those +of the skeptic and critic, and such objections can be shown to +rest in good part on a misunderstanding of scientific method +not by any means limited to Mr. Lerner. So common is this +misunderstanding that we must attempt here to put the matter +as clearly as possible in a very few words. This will be in no +sense a detour; it will be an essential approach to our subject.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_16"><em>II. The Bare Elements of Scientific Methods</em></h3> + +<p>First, not even the “exact” sciences like astronomy or physics +are exact in the sense of “absolute” or “infallible.” Their firmest +laws or uniformities are to be regarded as tentative. They +may be upset at any time by further work. But at any given +moment they are not to be tampered with unless they prove +unreliable <em>in relation to observed facts</em>. A few mystics, inhibited +in our crass society from the delights of navel-gazing, have made +too much of the contemporary revolution in physics. Newton’s +laws have not been “disproved”; nor has the principle of indeterminacy +been so firmly established as to make all men equally +good at the game of poker. What has happened in modern +physics, as far as a layman can judge, is that the physicist has +been sharply reminded that even his neatest uniformities are +not absolutes, but are subject to correction, that he is safer in +regarding these uniformities as based on observations rather +than on the will of God, or the nature of things, or on reality.</p> + +<p>This brings us easily to the second point. Science makes no +attempt to study or describe reality—certainly not ultimate +reality. Science is not even concerned with truth, in the sense +that word has for theologians, for most philosophers, and for +a good many other people. The desire to find a final cause, an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>unmoved mover, a <i lang="la">Ding an sich</i>, seems to be so common in +men that we have no grounds for believing that this search is +not, in one form or another, a fairly constant element in human +society. Only, scientists <em>as scientists</em> can have no part in such +a search. This by no means need be taken as indicating that +the search is silly, and ought to be stopped. Some scientists +have lately been, <em>as private persons</em>, very active in the search, +and indeed, after the manner of such searches, successful. +Faith has long since found God in unlikelier places than the +atom. But such discoveries are not the discoveries of science. +That discipline is based, not on faith, but on skepticism, on a +skepticism that will not even worry itself over its status in the +universe. And so the scientist works on serenely, undisturbed +by the philosopher’s final thrust: that to be constantly skeptical +is to believe in doubt, which is after all a form of faith.</p> + +<p>Third, the scientist by no means confines himself to “the +facts and nothing but the facts.” Dangerous metaphysical +depths yawn at this point, but we shall have to try and go +ahead in spite of them. The popularization of Baconian ideas +on induction is probably the chief source of the erroneous +notion that the scientist does nothing to the facts he laboriously +and virtuously digs up, except to let them fall neatly into +a place they have made for themselves. Actually the scientist +cannot work without a conceptual scheme; and though the +relation between facts and conceptual schemes is not by any +means clear it is at least clear that a conceptual scheme involves +something besides facts.</p> + +<p>Let no one be frightened of the technical term “conceptual +scheme.” It is really very simple: thunder and lightning impinge +on our senses of hearing and sight—probably the mere +differentiating of this sound and this flash from other sounds +and flashes means that we are employing a conceptual scheme; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>certainly when we think of Jupiter with his bolts, Thor with +his hammer, or the electrical discharge of modern physics, we +have clearly arranged our sense-perceptions in accordance with +definite conceptual schemes. We possess, indeed, the basic +elements of three different theories of thunder and lightning, +three different uniformities in these phenomena. But the only +important reasons why we should prefer our electrical discharge +to Jupiter or Thor <em>as a conceptual scheme</em> is that it is more +useful, and that we can by using it get on better also with other +conceptual schemes we use for similar purposes. But in the +sense which the word <em>true</em> has for the theologian, and most +moralists and philosophers, our electrical discharge is not a bit +<em>truer</em> than the old notions about Jupiter and Thor.</p> + +<p>We may even use two contradictory conceptual schemes, +choosing one or the other at convenience, or from habit. We +are all of us educated out of the old Ptolemaic conceptual +scheme, which saw the sun moving about a stationary earth, +into the Copernican conceptual scheme, which sees the earth +moving about a stationary sun. Einstein, of course, used a conceptual +scheme different from both of these, but most of us +are not yet up to Einstein; in daily life we all, however, contentedly +say “the sun rises,” and should be very pedantic indeed +if we insisted on saying in Copernican terms “the earth has +revolved into sight of the sun.” More important is the present +situation in respect to conceptual schemes in modern physics. +We learn, as far as laymen can learn in such matters, that +physicists find it convenient in the study of certain problems +to regard the electron as a particle, or at least a point, and in +the study of other problems to regard it as a wave. Some +physicists, many of them of very great distinction indeed, are +troubled by this contradiction, and have sought to work out a +single conceptual scheme which will make the electron a nice +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>logical unity again. One suspects, however, that these physicists +have left in them a little of the philosopher, and that it is their +philosophical selves that demand unity in the electron. For +other physicists get on admirably with this logically impossible +electron, wave when they want it to be a wave, particle when +they want it to be a particle. As scientists, they are quite content +to solve their problems, which deal wholly with this +world and can be solved in this world, though no doubt not in +the next, without regard for ultimate truth.</p> + +<p>The scientist, then, goes to work roughly in some such +fashion as this: he starts with a conceptual scheme of some +sort, and questions, or even hypotheses, he frames in terms of +that scheme; he then hunts for a suitable supply of facts—and +a fact in the natural sciences we define with Professor L. J. +Henderson as “an empirically verifiable statement about phenomena +in terms of a conceptual scheme”; these facts he seeks +to arrange in uniformities or theories which will answer his +questions, and perhaps suggest other questions; he then immerses +himself again in the hunt for facts, and emerges with +new or modified uniformities. The scientist is not interested in +where his conceptual scheme came from, or whether it preceded +or followed on facts, or whether it is “subjective” and the facts +“objective.” These questions he leaves to the philosophers, who +have not settled them yet after two thousand years of debate. +But the scientist does, by his recognition that a conceptual +scheme is as essential to his activity as are observed facts, emancipate +himself completely from self-styled “scientific” materialists, +positivists, empiricists, who naively assert that our sense-perceptions +are somehow in themselves an orderly and sole +reality, or a “reflection” of such a reality. For, note particularly, +the facts with which the scientist deals are not phenomena, +sense-perceptions, the “external world,” those dear absolutes of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>innocent positivists, but merely statements about phenomena. +A properly verifiable statement about Cromwell is then as much +a fact as the reading of a thermometer in a laboratory.</p> + +<p>Fourth, though the scientist is very careful indeed about +matters of definition, and is as disdainful of sloppiness and bad +thinking as any logician can be, he distrusts rigidity and attempts +at perfection here as elsewhere. He is interested less in +beauty and neatness of definition than in having his definitions +fit not his sentiments and aspirations, but the facts. Above all, +he does not dispute over words. He is less interested in the +accurate theoretical distinction between a mountain and a hill +than he is in making sure that he is dealing with concrete elevations +on this earth. He does not expect class-terms to be perfect, +mutually exclusive; when he distinguishes between a plant +and an animal, he is not at all offended if you call his attention +to a living thing that seems to belong to both his classes at +once. He sets to work studying the living thing and will, if +necessary, modify his class-terms. But he is quite willing also, +if it proves more convenient, to set up a new class-term of +borderline plant-animals. This simple willingness to be guided +by convenience is of course one of the amazing things about +the scientist and one of the most difficult for us who have not +had a scientific training to adapt ourselves to. Most of us are +early trained to prefer our opinions to our convenience.</p> + +<p>Finally, scientific thinking cannot be, except perhaps in suggesting +problems, what nowadays most of us know well enough +as wishful thinking. The scientist’s own hopes and fears, his +own standards of what he would like to have prevail on this +earth, must be kept as far as possible out of his work, and especially +out of his observations of, or dealings with, facts. How +far such hopes and fears and standards enter into his choice +of conceptual schemes, how far they influence the kind of questions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>he asks, are difficult problems we may perhaps be permitted +to dodge. Sufficient that the techniques of most of the +established sciences provide a very effective check on the cruder +forms of wishful thinking. History—because it has been so long +an art and a craft perhaps the most respectable of the social +sciences—provides in the technical training undergone by most +professional historians a surprisingly effective and not wholly +dissimilar check on the more violent forms of partisan writing +and thinking.</p> + +<p>All in all, there is no reason why we should feel that the +natural scientist uses methods, sets standards, forever quite unattainable +by the social scientist. Natural science as the more +innocent materialists of the last century saw it—exact, infallible, +a cosmos built on induction—must seem remote to a struggling +economist or sociologist. But natural science as it has always +been understood by its ablest practitioners and is now widely +understood—natural science as expounded methodologically by +a Poincaré—is no such thin substitute for Divine Providence, +no such metaphysical abstraction. Only God is exact, infallible, +omniscient, unchanging, and modern science has been content +to leave the search for God to disciplines fitted by long success +for such a search.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_21"><em>III. The Application of Scientific Methods to This Study</em></h3> + +<p>Of the bare elements of scientific thinking—conceptual +scheme, facts, logical operations, uniformities—the social sciences +in general come out well on the score of facts. Even in +the field of history, where neither laboratory nor questionnaire +methods of research are available, our existing supply of facts +is surprisingly good. You cannot draw Cromwell back to life, +but neither can you call the dinosaurs back to life. What we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>know about Cromwell is in many ways as reliable as what we +know about dinosaurs. To say that history is a fable agreed +upon, or a set of tricks played upon the dead, is to slander, or +at least to misjudge, the great body of industrious and sober +workers who have carried on the study of history. Notably the +last century or so has seen the formation of a body of research +workers in history who, with all their faults, maintain standards +comparable in some ways to those maintained by similar groups +in the natural sciences. These research workers do not indeed +uncover the simple raw material of facts. The humblest antiquarian +arranges the facts he digs out of his documents into +some kind of pattern. Such a process of arrangement, however, +is not the conscious theorizing of the physical scientist. It was +never even learned as the scientist learns the theoretical scaffolding +of his science, but was acquired almost as the manual +worker acquires a craft. It is this craftsman’s technique for the +gathering, winnowing, and assaying of facts about the behavior +of men in the past that is the great strength of the professional +historian. If you asked such a historian what a fact is, he would +probably be greatly puzzled at the question, and usually quite +unable to answer in adequate general terms. Any good philosopher +could convict him of complete epistemological <i lang="fr">naïveté</i>. +But in his daily work the historian shows a very keen appreciation +of the difference between a fact and a theory, and a real +ability to manipulate and arrange facts.</p> + +<p>We shall, then, rely on the historians to supply us with the +necessary facts. For the English, American, and even for the +French, revolutions, the body of reputable and reasonably detached +historical writing is very large indeed. Passions still run +high over the French revolution, but they are being cooled +slowly in an increasing flood of printer’s ink; the chief trouble, +indeed, is to choose from among this enormous mass of material. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>The Russian revolution is still too near us to be regarded +by professional historians as capable of the kind of treatment +the guild likes to give. Its source material is scattered about, +and much of it is still withheld from scholars. Language is a +barrier only gradually being overcome here in the West. Yet +our supply of facts about the Russian revolution is by no means +so slight, or so poor in quality, as to hinder our enterprise. +Twenty years is a long time, and the early stages of the Russian +revolution have been surveyed, if not <i lang="la">sine ira et studio</i>, at least +with relative detachment. And then both lovers and haters of +the present regime in Russia are almost equally articulate, and +can be balanced off one against the other by anyone who cares +to take the trouble.</p> + +<p>Our conceptual scheme will give us a great deal more difficulty +than will our supply of facts. In the social sciences, at +least, the distinction between a conceptual scheme and a metaphor +is still an uncertain one, and there is no great harm in +looking at our present problem as a search for a framework of +not too-literary metaphor to hold together the details of our +revolutions. Yet one of the most obvious of such metaphors, +that of a storm, has several faults. One can outline it readily: +at first there are the distant rumblings, the dark clouds, the +ominous calm before the outbreak, all this corresponding to +what our textbooks used confidently to list as “causes” of the +revolution; then comes the sudden onset of wind and rain, +clearly the beginnings of the revolution itself; the fearful climax +follows, with the full violence of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning, +even more clearly the Reign of Terror; at last comes the +gradual subsidence, the brightening skies, sunshine again, as in +the orderly days of the Restoration. But all this is too literary +and too dramatic for our purposes, too close altogether to the +metaphor as used by prophets and preachers. Insofar as it can +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>be brought into use as a conceptual scheme it rests on a science, +that of meteorology, which has little direct help to offer the +social scientist.</p> + +<p>At almost the opposite side there is the conceptual scheme +of a social system in equilibrium, as best developed in Pareto’s +<cite>The Mind and Society</cite>. The tender-minded are often annoyed +by the term equilibrium, which has for them mechanistic overtones +damaging to the dignity of man. In modern science, however, +the term has proved useful in fields such as chemistry and +physiology, well outside that of the mechanics in which it had +its origin. Furthermore, the word as the practicing scientist uses +it has no metaphysical connotations whatever. The concepts of +a physico-chemical system in equilibrium, a social system in +equilibrium, John Jones’s body in equilibrium, do not in the +least prejudice the immortality of anyone’s soul, nor the ultimate +victory of Vitalists over Mechanists. The concept of equilibrium +helps us to understand, and sometimes to use or to control, +specific machines, chemicals, and even medicines. It may +some day help us to understand, and within limits to mold, +men in society.</p> + +<p>Its use in the study of revolutions is in principle clear. A +society in perfect equilibrium might be—purely theoretically—defined +as a society every member of which had at a given +moment all that he could possibly desire and was in a state of +absolute contentment. Obviously any real society can be in but +an imperfect equilibrium, a condition in which the varying and +conflicting desires and habits of individuals and groups of individuals +are in complex mutual adjustment, an adjustment so +complex that no mathematical treatment of it seems possible +at present. As new desires arise, or as old desires grow stronger +in various groups, or as environmental conditions change, and +as institutions fail to change, a relative disequilibrium may +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>arise, and what we call a revolution breaks out. We know that +in the human body, for instance, the disequilibrium we call +disease is accompanied by certain definite reactions which tend +to restore the body to something like what it was before the +onset of the disease. It seems quite likely that in a social system +in disequilibrium there is something of the same kind of reaction +towards the old conditions, and that this helps explain why +revolutions do not turn out entirely as revolutionists want them +to. The old adjustments tend to re-establish themselves, and +produce what in history is known as the reaction or the restoration. +In social systems, as in the human organism, a kind of +natural healing force, a <i lang="la">vis medicatrix naturae</i> tends almost +automatically to balance one kind of change with another and +restorative change.</p> + +<p>This conceptual scheme of the social equilibrium is probably +in the long run the most useful for the sociologist of revolutions. +It is for our purposes, however, a bit too ambitious. It +needs for full success a more accurate grasp of more numerous +variables than we can at present manage. Though it need not +necessarily be formulated in precise mathematical terms, it +ought to be formulated in terms more close to those of mathematics +than we can honestly employ. In other words, it is better +suited to a complete sociology of revolutions, or a “dynamics +of revolution,” than to our modest study of the anatomy of four +specific revolutions. We are here attempting merely a preliminary +analysis, attempting to classify and systematize at a relatively +low level of complexity.</p> + +<p>Though it has one very grave defect, the best conceptual +scheme for our purposes would seem to be one borrowed from +pathology. We shall regard revolutions—wholly, be it understood, +for convenience, and with no implications of eternal and +absolute validity, and with no moral overtones—as a kind of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>fever. The outlines of our fever chart work out readily enough. +In the society during the generation or so before the outbreak +of revolution, in the old regime, there will be found signs of +the coming disturbance. Rigorously, these signs are not quite +symptoms, since when the symptoms are fully enough developed +the disease is already present. They are perhaps better +described as <em>prodromal</em> signs, indications to the very keen diagnostician +that a disease is on its way, but not yet sufficiently +developed to be the disease. Then comes a time when the full +symptoms disclose themselves, and when we can say the fever +of revolution has begun. This works up, not regularly but with +advances and retreats, to a crisis, frequently accompanied by +delirium, the rule of the most violent revolutionists, the Reign +of Terror. After the crisis comes a period of convalescence, +usually marked by a relapse or two. Finally the fever is over, +and the patient is himself again, perhaps in some respects actually +strengthened by the experience, immunized at least for +a while from a similar attack, but certainly not wholly made +over into a new man. The parallel goes through to the end, for +societies which undergo the full cycle of revolution are perhaps +in some respects the stronger for it; but they by no means +emerge entirely remade.</p> + +<p>This conceptual scheme may be used without committing its +users in any sense to an organic theory of society. The organic +theory, the motion of a “body politic,” is a metaphor developed +by political philosophers into a kind of metaphysics. A good +German idealist can find almost anything he wants in the +organic theory, from the categorical imperative to a justification +of anti-Semitism and a condemnation of parliamentary democracy. +The word “society” is used in this study as a convenient +way of designating the observed behavior of men in groups, +their interactions, and that is all. We find it convenient to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>apply to certain observed changes in given societies a conceptual +scheme borrowed from medicine. We should find it inconvenient +and misleading to extend that conceptual scheme +and talk of a body politic, with a soul, a general will, heart, +nerves, and so on. When, for instance, we apply terms like +“prodrome,” “fever,” “crisis,” to the French revolution, we are +very definitely <em>not</em> thinking of a personified France which suffers +all these. To some this distinction may seem only a verbal one, +and unimportant. It is, however, based on one of the most +important distinctions in human thinking—the distinction between +metaphysics and science.</p> + +<p>The really grave defect of this fever chart lies deeper, in the +apparently unalterable fact that our ordinary language, to which +words like “fever,” “disease,” and “crisis” clearly belong, is only +in small part logical. The intellectuals of our generation are +rather inclined to worry over the non-logical overtones of words, +which is perhaps a good sign for the social sciences. Mathematicians, +most scientists, and even symbolic logicians, manage to +say what they mean, and can communicate exactly with one +another. When, however, a given act by a given person, John +Doe, is referred to by five separate reporters as persevering, firm, +determined, obstinate, and pig-headed, you obviously learn as +much about the feelings of the reporters towards John Doe as +about John Doe himself. The reporters are trying to spread +abroad their own feelings, not to describe John Doe. Many +people from Thucydides through Bacon and Machiavelli to +Pareto have understood this use of words. It has been noted +even by people like Jeremy Bentham and Mr. Stuart Chase, +who cannot perhaps be said to have fully understood it. In our +own day a dozen disciplines, from psychology and philology to +political theory, have made us keenly aware that propaganda +lurks in every syllable, in every accent. This awareness seems +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>not to have resulted in any appreciable drying-up of propaganda.</p> + +<p>Now nobody wants to have a fever. The very word is full of +unpleasant suggestions. Our use of terms borrowed from medicine +is likely, at the very least, to arouse in many readers sentiments +which bar further understanding. We seem to be damning +revolutions by comparing them with a disease. To those +of liberal sympathies and hopes we shall seem to be condemning +in advance such great efforts of the free human spirit as +the French revolution. To the Marxists our whole inquiry has +probably been suspect from the moment we wrote doubtingly +about the American proletariat, and our conceptual scheme will +appear to them simply the expected bourgeois dishonesty. Yet +it seems too bad to offend even the Marxists unnecessarily. +Protestations of good intent are probably useless, but we may +none the less record that consciously at least we are aware of +no feelings of dislike for revolutions in general. We do indeed +dislike cruelty whether in revolutions or in stable societies. But +the thought of revolutions sets up in us no train of unhappy +associations. Unconsciously and subconsciously we may well feel +horror of revolution to our thoroughly bourgeois marrow, but +without benefit of Freud we dare not commit ourselves about +our unconscious. Of more persuasive force with the distrustful +is perhaps the fact that, biologically, fever in itself is a good +thing rather than a bad thing for the organism that survives it. +To use a figure of speech, the fever burns up the wicked germs, +as the revolution destroys wicked people and harmful and useless +institutions. On close and fair inspection our conceptual +scheme may even seem to have overtones of implication too +favorable, rather than too unfavorable, to revolutions in general.</p> + +<p>Facts and conceptual scheme being thus disposed of, it remains +to consider the possibility of finding some kind of uniformities +in the way in which our facts fit into our conceptual +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>scheme. Most of us would assume that on the rough level of +common sense some kind of uniformities can be discerned in +history. But at least among professional historians there is a +tendency to deny that these uniformities are real and important, +and we must therefore give the matter brief attention. In +a recent review of Professor W. C. Abbott’s magisterial edition +of Cromwell’s speeches and writings, a learned and conventional +English historian wrote that “it is unfortunate that Professor +Abbott has thought to elucidate the English revolution +by comparing it with the American and French revolutions. +Revolutionary technique undoubtedly interests a world familiar +with the writings of Marx and Trotsky and the method of +Lenin, but comparisons in history as elsewhere are odious and +revolutions are more remarkable for their particular differences +than for their common elements.” This is undoubtedly an extreme +view, and the English have for the last century and more +been insistent that their revolution was unique—so unique as +to have been practically no revolution at all.</p> + +<p>A full consideration of the problem of historical uniformities +would be very long, and might well end in the cloudland of +metaphysics. We shall have to be content with the crude assertion +that the doctrine of the absolute uniqueness of events in +history seems nonsense. History is essentially an account of the +behavior of men, and if the behavior of men is not subject to +any kind of systematizing, this world is even more cock-eyed +than the seers would have it. But you have only to look at a +page of Theophrastus or of Chaucer to realize that Greeks of +more than two thousand years ago and Englishmen of six centuries +ago seem extraordinarily like Americans of today. Even +Mr. Christopher Morley’s jazz version of <cite>The Trojan Horse</cite> +does not seem unreal. Comparisons may be odious, but they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>form the basis of literature as well as of science, and provide a +good deal of the staple of everyday conversation.</p> + +<p>As we have seen, an essential element in any attempt to work +scientifically is the detachment of the scientist. In the historian, +this is the ability to keep his observations of what has happened +uninfluenced by what he would like to have happened, or to +happen. We have already encountered this difficulty in our discussion +of a conceptual scheme, where to think of a revolution +as a fever seems at first sight a way of condemning the revolution, +of giving it a bad name. It must be repeated that in all +the social sciences genuine scientific detachment is difficult to +attain, and in any “absolute” or “pure” sense impossible of attainment. +Even in the natural sciences, desire to prove an hypothesis +or a theory of one’s own may bring to the distortion of +facts some of the most powerful sentiments in human beings. +But the natural scientist does not want to improve a molecule +or an amoeba—at least, not “morally.” Upon the social scientist, +however, there pours the full force of those sentiments we call +moral as well as those we call selfish. He can hardly avoid wanting +to change what he is studying: not to change it as the chemist +changes elements he compounds, but to change it as the missionary +changes the man he converts. Yet this is just what the +social scientist must try to avoid as a better man would avoid +the devil. One of the hardest things on this earth to do is to +describe men or institutions without wanting to change them, a +thing so hard that most people are not even aware that the +two processes are separable. Yet separated they must be if we +are to get anywhere with the social sciences.</p> + +<p>In this study we shall make this attempt to describe without +evaluating. It will not be a complete success, for here on this +earth completion is rare. Absolute detachment is a polar region, +unfit for human life; but one might well make an effort to get +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>out of the steaming jungles, and come a bit closer to the pole. +In less figurative language: it is impossible to study revolutions +without having sentiments about them, but it is quite possible +to keep your sentiments relatively more out of your study than +in. And an inch gained here is worth several ells on less fertile +frontiers of the mind.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_31"><em>IV. Limitations of the Subject</em></h3> + +<p>This willingness to put up with, indeed this expectation of, +partial and incomplete results is one of the distinguishing marks +of science. It would be possible to start out with the intention +of discovering uniformities in all recorded revolutions. To begin +with, the hardest conceivable task is, however, rather the privilege +of the philosopher than that of the scientist. At any rate, +it seems now scientifically unprofitable and therefore unwise to +ask the question: What have all known revolutions in common? +The very question shows the logical limitations of the subject: +we can never know <em>all</em> revolutions. Any answer would have to +make up in scope and assurance what it would lack in concreteness. +You might ask: What have all known men in common? +The systematist in biology could indeed list certain uniformities +under <i lang="la">homo sapiens</i>. But the commoner kind of answer +would be that men all have souls, or that they are all created +equal, or even, as Cicero discovered, that “Nihil est enim unum +uni tam simile, tam par, quam omnes inter nosmet ipsos +sumus.” (For no one thing is as like, as equal, to another one as +we human beings are like and equal one to another.) These +answers are all very important, but they are not quite the sort +of thing we are after.</p> + +<p>We shall, then, study four revolutions which on the surface +seem to have certain resemblances, and deliberately avoid certain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>other types of revolution. Our four took place in the post-medieval +Western world, were “popular” revolutions carried out +in the name of “freedom” for a majority against a privileged +minority, and were successful; that is, they resulted in the +revolutionists’ becoming the legal government. Anything like a +complete sociology of revolutions would have to take account +of other kinds of revolution, and notably of two, the revolution +initiated by authoritarians or oligarchies, or conservatives, that +is, the “Rightist” revolution; and the abortive revolution.</p> + +<p>No doubt there are sentimental distortions involved in distinguishing +our four revolutions as “popular,” but even words +heavily encrusted with sentiments have reference to concrete +things; and the English, French, American, and Russian revolutions +were attempts to ensure a different kind of life from +that aimed at in the Fascist revolution in Italy and the National +Socialist revolution in Germany. If, however, these Fascist +revolutions seem too recent to be judged, or even to be catalogued, +fairly, we may find in the time of troubles in Athens at +the end of the fifth century <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span> less controversial evidence. +Here the revolution of 411 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span> was the work of the conservative +or oligarchic group, and was directed against the old democratic +constitution under which Athens had been ruled since +Cleisthenes, if not since Solon. In the Council of Four Hundred +set up by the successful revolutionists, the extreme oligarchs +split with the moderates. After the assassination of the extremist +Phrynicus, and the arrival of bad news from the front, the +moderate Theramenes was able to take over power and set up a +“mixed” constitution, seeking to combine the best of democracy +and oligarchy. Then the fleet, in general strongly democratic, +won the battle of Cyzicus, and paved the way to a fairly +complete restoration of democracy in 410.</p> + +<p>The final victory of Sparta led in 404 to a similar revolutionary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>cycle in Athens, beginning with the extreme oligarchic rule +of the Thirty Tyrants and ending again with the restoration +of democratic forms. In these movements, the sequence—to use +perhaps misleading modern political analogies—is from Right to +Center to Left, or from Extremists to Moderates to the Old +Gang, a sequence clearly quite different from that we shall encounter +in England, France, and Russia. Those devoted to the +concept of social equilibrium will note that in these Athenian +revolutions the tendency seems to be toward the restoration of +old habits and old institutions; and there is much here—the +role of political clubs, for instance, and the varied uses of violence—familiar +to any student of modern revolutions. Yet the +sequence of power, the time-scale, and much else in these +Athenian revolutions mark them off from those we have chosen +to study, and suggest that they belong at least to a different +sub-class.</p> + +<p>Of abortive revolutions we have numerous examples. Needless +to say, abortiveness is not measured by the failure of revolutionary +movements to live up to the ideals professed by their +leaders. We mean by abortive simply the failure of organized +groups in revolt. Thus the American Civil War is really an almost +classical example of an abortive revolution. So too is the +Paris Commune of 1871. The European revolutions of 1848 +were on the surface mostly abortive, though in many countries +they helped bring about important and comparatively permanent +administrative and constitutional changes. An abortive +revolution may, of course, mold the defeated revolutionary +group to an even more heroic determination, and pave the way +to continued underground resistance, plotting, propaganda. The +blood of martyrs has built council halls and presidential palaces +as well as churches. The abortive revolution is especially important +in the welding together of oppressed nationalities, which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>after a few heroic uprisings attain a pitch of exalted patriotism +and self-pity that makes them almost unbeatable. Contemporary +Ireland and Poland were born of a long series of revolutions +that failed, and in their final emergence as independent nations +they bear the clear and unlovely scars of these great moral victories. +Indeed, in a complete study of revolutions, there would +have to be a special sub-class for revolutions in which a territorial +or “national” group rises against another and dominating +territorial or national group.</p> + +<p>Three of our four revolutions—the English, French, and Russian, +have courses in general surprisingly similar. All have a +social or class rather than a territorial or nationalistic basis, +though Oxford and Lancashire, the Vendée, and the Ukraine, +suggest that one cannot wholly neglect these latter factors. All +are begun in hope and moderation, all reach a crisis in a +reign of terror, and all end in something like dictatorship—Cromwell, +Bonaparte, Stalin. The American revolution does not +quite follow this pattern, and is therefore especially useful to +us as a kind of control.</p> + +<p>Our revolution was, perhaps predominantly, a territorial and +nationalistic revolution, animated throughout by patriotic American +hatred for the British. On the other hand, it was also in +part a social and class movement, and as time went on its social +character came out more and more strongly. It never quite went +through a reign of terror, though it had many terroristic aspects, +usually soft-pedaled in school and popular histories. All in all, +the American revolution presents a number of interesting problems, +and the attempt to integrate some of its aspects with our +other three revolutions promises to extend, without unduly +stretching, the limits of this study. But we must always remember +that the American revolution was in a sense an incomplete +one, that it does not fit perfectly our conceptual scheme, that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>it does not show the victory of the extremists over the moderates. +We must be even more cautious than with the other +revolutions when we attempt to discern uniformities in the +anatomy of the American revolution.</p> + +<p>We choose then, deliberately, to isolate four revolutions for +analysis, quite aware that there are many other revolutions on +record. This procedure has another distinct advantage, that it +enables us to dodge a good deal of unprofitable debate over the +definition of “revolution.” Pages have been spent on the question +as to whether to speak of an “Industrial Revolution” +(which began about 1760 and is in a sense still going on) is or +is not an abuse of the word “revolution.” Writers on politics +have worried over the differences between political and social +revolution, between a <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i>, a <i lang="de">putsch</i>, and a revolution. +We propose to avoid this tangle by the simple, if metaphysically +somewhat disingenuous, device of declaring that since +the movements with which we are concerned are commonly +called revolutions, they may be so called once more.</p> + +<p>The difference between a revolution and other kinds of +changes in societies is, to judge from many past uses of the +term, logically nearer to that between a mountain and a hill +than to that, say, between the freezing point and the boiling +point of a given substance. The physicist can measure boiling +points exactly; the social scientist cannot measure change by any +such exact thermometer, and say exactly when ordinary change +boils over into revolutionary change. One might flirt with +the notion of a “revolt point” for different social systems; England’s +being at, say, 200° in some conventional scale, France’s +at 150°, Japan’s at 400°, and so on. But this would be nonsense +of the type altogether too common in the social sciences, which +have long been in the habit of putting up mathematical false +fronts. In actual practice, we let use distinguish for us between +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>a hill and a mountain, and there is no harm in accepting the +decision of use as to what to call a revolution. The important +element in scientific definition is that the definition should be +based on facts, and enable us to handle facts better; precision +and neatness come definitely second, and are defects if they are +achieved by the neglect or distortion of facts. Obviously in +present usage the word revolution is a class-term covering quite +a number of concrete phenomena, from the introduction of the +spinning-mule to the ejection of Porfirio Diaz, and the job of +the systematist is to cling to the general term and devise useful +sub-classifications within it.</p> + +<p>To such simple truths are we reduced even before we enter +fully into the study of actual revolutions. Yet the really obvious, +the really commonplace, does not often find its way into print. +What gets there much more often is the literary commonplace, +the cliché and the stereotype, the beliefs men have about things +and beings they never deal with directly. The world of the pulp +magazines is a world of literary commonplaces. Many an intellectual +in the world usually rated above the pulps is driven by +a no doubt commendable horror of the literary commonplace +into an equal horror of the obvious. The scientist can afford no +such indulgence. The first job of the scientist is to be obvious, +for only on a firm foundation in the obvious can he build +securely the more complex fabric of a developed science. He +may even have to be a bit insistent and repetitive about the +obvious; for in this modern world of ours, where so much of +our experience is the vicarious experience of sermons, books, +pictures, plays, even the simple souls who love commonplaces +have literary commonplaces fobbed off on them instead of the +real thing.</p> + +<p>We shall, then, hope that whatever uniformities we can detect +in the revolutions we are analyzing will turn out to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>obvious, to be just what any sensible man already knew about +revolutions. We shall be genuinely disappointed if the anatomy +of revolutions does not turn out to be a familiar one. It will +seem a sufficient gain if these uniformities can be listed, recorded, +as uniformities. Those whose appetites demand great +discoveries are, then, warned in advance. Here they will find +poor fare. Nor is this said in any spirit of mock humility. A literary +saw, now almost folk-wisdom, but still pretty literary, is +scornful over the mountain which labored and brought forth +only a ridiculous mouse. That mountain has perhaps never had +due recognition for what is surely a rather remarkable biological +feat. Moreover, the mouse was at least alive. Most mountains, +when they go in for this sort of thing, produce nothing better +than lava, steam, and hot air.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_two"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">two</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">THE OLD REGIMES</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_38"><em>I. The Diagnosis of Preliminary Signs</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">From France, which has long carried out a kind of +linguistic Free Trade, comes the phrase “old regime.” Applied +to the history of France, it covers roughly the society of +the last two-thirds of the eighteenth century, the generation or +two preceding the revolution of 1789. We may reasonably extend +its use to describe the varied societies out of which our +revolutions emerged. Following our conceptual scheme, we shall +look in these societies for something like a revolutionary prodrome, +for a set of preliminary signs of the coming revolution.</p> + +<p>Such a search must not be undertaken without one important +caution. Disorder in some sense appears to be endemic in +all societies, and certainly in our Western society. The historian +turned diagnostician can find evidences of disorders and discontents +in almost any society he chooses to study. If a stable, or +healthy, society is defined as one in which there are no expressions +of discontent with the government or with existing institutions, +in which no laws are ever broken, then there are no +stable or healthy societies. Not even the totalitarian state, one +suspects, can live up to this standard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span></p> + +<p>Our normal or healthy society, then, will not be one in which +there are no criticisms of the government or the ruling class, +no gloomy sermons on the moral decay of the times, no Utopian +dreams of a better world around the corner, no strikes, no +lock-outs, no unemployment, no crime waves, no New Deals. +All we can expect of what we may call a healthy society is that +there should be no striking excess of this sort of thing, and perhaps +also that most people should behave as if they felt that, +with all its faults, the society were a going concern. Then we +may look about for the kind of signs just described—discontents +expressed in words or deeds—and try to estimate their +seriousness. We shall, of course, very soon find that we are +dealing with a large number of variables, that for given societies +studied in their old regimes these variables combine variously +and in different proportions, and that in some cases certain +variables are apparently absent altogether or nearly so. We are +surely unlikely to find in all the cases we study one clear, +omnipresent symptom, so that we could say: when you find <em>x</em> +or <em>y</em> in a society, you know that a revolution is a month, or a +year, or a decade, or any time in the future. On the contrary, +symptoms are apt to be many, varied, and by no means neatly +combined in a pattern. We shall be lucky if, to borrow another +medical term, they form a recognizable syndrome.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_39"><em>II. Structural Weaknesses, Economic and Political</em></h3> + +<p>As good children of our age, we are bound to start any such +study as this with the economic situation. All of us, no matter +how little sympathy we may have with organized communism, +betray the extent of Marx’s influence in the social studies—and +of the influences that influenced Marx—by the naturalness with +which we ask the question: “What had economic interests to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>do with it all?” Now it is incontestable that in all four of the +societies we are studying the years preceding the outbreak of +revolution witnessed unusually serious economic, or at least +financial, difficulties of a special kind. The first two Stuarts were +in perpetual conflict with their parliaments over taxes, and the +years just before 1640 resounded with complaints about Ship +Money, benevolences, tonnage and poundage and other terms +now strange to us, but once capable of making a hero of a very +rich Buckinghamshire gentleman named John Hampden, who +was financially quite able to pay much larger taxes than he did. +Americans need not be reminded of the part trouble over taxation +played in the years just before the shot fired at Concord +defied all the laws of acoustics. “No taxation without representation” +may be rejected by all up-to-date historians as in +itself an adequate explanation of the beginnings of the American +revolution, but the fact remains that it was in the 1770’s a +slogan capable of exciting our fathers to action. In 1789 the +French Estates-General, the calling of which precipitated the +revolution, was made unavoidable by the bad financial state of +the government. Official France in 1789 was financially in as +unhappy a way as, until our own times, one would have believed +it possible for a government to be. In Russia in 1917 +financial collapse did not perhaps stand out so prominently +because the Czarist regime had achieved an all-round collapse +in all fields of governmental activity, from war to village administration. +But three years of war had put such a strain on +Russian finances that, even with the support of the Allies, high +prices and scarcity were by 1917 most obvious factors in the +general tension.</p> + +<p>Yet in all of these societies, it is the <em>government</em> that is in +financial difficulties, not the societies themselves. To put the +matter negatively, our revolutions did not occur in societies +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>economically backward, nor in societies undergoing widespread +economic misery or depression. You will not find in these societies +of the old regime anything like unusually widespread economic +want. In a specific instance, of course, the standard +against which want or depression is measured must be the +standard of living more or less acceptable to a given group at +a given time. What satisfied an English peasant in 1640 would +be misery and want for an Iowa farmer of 1938. It is possible +that certain groups in a society may be in unusual want even +though statistically that abstraction “society as a whole” is enjoying +an increasing—and almost equally abstract—“national +income.” Nevertheless, when national income is rapidly increasing, +someone does get the benefit. We must look more carefully +at our four societies in this respect.</p> + +<p>France in 1789 was a very striking example of a rich society +with an impoverished government. The eighteenth century had +begun to collect statistics about itself, and though these would +not satisfy a modern economist they enable us to be very certain +about the increasing prosperity of eighteenth-century +France. Any series of indices—foreign trade, population growth, +building, manufactures, agricultural production—will show a +general upward trend all through the eighteenth century. Here +are a few examples: wastelands all over France were being +brought under the plow and in the <i lang="fr">élection</i> of Melun alone in +two years from 1783 to 1785 uncultivated land was reduced from +14,500 to 10,000 arpents; Rouen in 1787 produced annually cotton +cloth worth fifty millions of <i lang="fr">livres</i>, having at least doubled +its production in a generation; French trade with North Africa +(the Barbary Coast) increased from about 1,000,000 <i lang="fr">livres</i> in +1740 to 6,216,000 <i lang="fr">livres</i> in 1788; the total French foreign trade +had in 1787 increased nearly 100,000,000 <i lang="fr">livres</i> in the dozen +years since the death of Louis XV in 1774.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span></p> + +<p>Even in our imperfect statistics we can distinguish short-term +cyclical variations, and it seems clear that in some respects, notably +in the wheat harvest, 1788-89 was a bad year. It was, however, +by no means a deep trough year like 1932 for this country. +If business men in eighteenth-century France had kept charts +and made graphs, the lines would have mounted with gratifying +consistency through most of the period preceding the French +revolution. Now this prosperity was certainly most unevenly +shared. The people who got the lion’s share of it seem to have +been the merchants, bankers, business men, lawyers, peasants +who ran their own farms as businesses; the middle class, as we +have come to call it. It was precisely these prosperous people +who in the 1780’s were loudest against the government, most +reluctant to save it by paying taxes.</p> + +<p>In America, of course, with an empty continent available for +the distressed, general economic conditions in the eighteenth +century show increasing wealth and population, with economic +distress a purely relative matter. There can be no talk of starvation, +of grinding poverty in the New England of the Stamp +Act. Even the minor fluctuations of the business cycle fail to +coincide with the revolution, and the early years of the 1770’s +were distinctly years of prosperity. There were economic stresses +and strains in colonial America, as we shall soon see, but no +class ground down with poverty.</p> + +<p>Nor is it easy to argue that early Stuart England was less prosperous +than late Tudor England had been. There is rather evidence +that, especially in the years of personal government +which preceded the Long Parliament, England was notably +prosperous. Ramsay Muir writes that “England had never +known a more steady or more widely diffused prosperity and +the burden of taxation was less than in any other country. The +coming revolution was certainly not due to economic distress.” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>Even in the Russia of 1917, apart from the shocking breakdown +of the machinery of government under war-strain, the productive +capacity of society as a whole was certainly greater than at +any other time in Russian history; and to take again the long +view, the economic graphs had all been mounting for Russia as +a whole in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, +and the progress in trade and production since the abortive +revolution of 1905 had been notable.</p> + +<p>Our revolutions, then, clearly were not born in societies economically +retrograde; on the contrary, they took place in societies +economically progressive. This does not, of course, mean +that no groups within these societies cherished grievances +mainly economic in character. Two main foci for economic +motives of discontent seem to stand out. First, and much the +less important, is the actual misery of certain groups in a given +society. No doubt in all our societies, even in America, there +was a sort of submarginal group of poor people whose release +from certain forms of restraint is a very important feature of +revolution itself. But in studying the preliminary signs of +revolution, these people are not very important. French republican +historians have long insisted on the importance of the bad +harvest of 1788, the cold winter of 1788-89, and the consequent +sufferings of the poor. Bread was relatively dear in that spring +when the Estates-General first assembled. There was apparently +a tightening up of business conditions in America in 1774-75, +but certainly nothing like widespread distress or unemployment. +The local sufferings of Boston, considerable under the Port Bill, +were really a part of the revolution itself, and not a sign. +The winter of 1916-17 was certainly a bad one in Russia, with +food rationing in all the cities.</p> + +<p>The important thing to note, however, is that French and +Russian history are filled with famines, plagues, bad harvests, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>sometimes local, sometimes national in sweep, many of which +were accompanied by sporadic rioting, but in each case only +one by revolution. In neither the English nor the American +revolution do we find even this degree of localized want or +famine. Clearly, then, the economic distress of the under-privileged, +though it may well accompany a revolutionary situation, +is not one of the symptoms we need dwell upon. This +the subtler Marxists themselves recognize, and Trotsky has +written: “In reality, the mere existence of privations is not +enough to cause an insurrection; if it were, the masses would +always be in revolt.”</p> + +<p>Of much greater importance is the existence among a group, +or groups, of a feeling that prevailing conditions limit or hinder +their economic activity. We are especially aware of this element +in our American revolution, and Professor A. M. Schlesinger +has shown how the prosperous merchants, their immediate interests +damaged by the new imperial policy of the British government, +led an agitation against the legislation of 1764 and +1765 and helped stir up a discontent among the less well-to-do +which these merchants later found a bit embarrassing. No +doubt, too, that many of the firm spots in the very uneven and +wavering policy of the British government—the Stamp Act and +subsequent disorders, the announced intention of enforcing the +Navigation Act, and so on—did have momentary ill effects on +business, did throw men out of work. The currency question +was of course mismanaged in a day when common sense did +not very effectively supplement ignorance of economic processes. +The colonies were always lacking in specie, and business +enterprise suffered from this lack. Paper money, to which recourse +was inevitable, was also an inevitable source of further +quarrels between governors and governed.</p> + +<p>The working of economic motives to revolt among possessing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>classes normally inclined to support existing institutions is especially +clear among the aristocrats of tidewater Virginia. Largely +dependent on a single crop, tobacco, used to a high standard +of living, increasingly indebted to London bankers, many of +the planters hoped to recoup their fortunes in the western +lands they regarded as clearly belonging to Virginia. George +Washington’s own involvements in western land speculations +make one of the favorite topics of the debunkers. By the +Quebec Act of 1774, however, the British government took the +trans-Allegheny lands north of the Ohio from Virginia and other +claimant colonies, and incorporated them with Canada. This +act gave a grievance to others besides the planter-speculator. +The closing of this frontier was also an offense to a class perhaps +normally more inclined to revolt—the restless woodsmen +and fur traders, and the only slightly less restless small pioneer +farmers who had already occupied the Appalachian valleys, and +were ready to pour over into the Kentucky and Ohio country. +The Quebec Act in itself does not, of course, explain the +American revolution; but taken with a long series of other acts, +the Stamp Act, the Navigation Act, the Molasses Act, it accounts +for the feeling so evident among active and ambitious +groups in America that British rule was an unnecessary and incalculable +restraint, an obstacle to their full success in life.</p> + +<p>In France the years preceding 1789 are marked by a series of +measures which antagonized different groups. With striking +awkwardness, the government offered with one hand what it +withdrew with the other. Tax-reform efforts, never carried +through, offended privileged groups without pleasing the unprivileged. +Turgot’s attempted introduction of <i lang="fr">laissez-faire</i> into +labor relations offended all the vested interests of the old +guilds. The famous tariff reduction treaty with England in 1786 +directly affected French textiles for the worse, increased unemployment +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>in Normandy and other regions, and gave the employer +class a grievance against the government. So, too, in +seventeenth-century England, there is no doubt that the attempt +to revive obsolete forms of taxation seemed to London +or Bristol merchants a threat to their rising prosperity and +importance.</p> + +<p>Thus we see that certain economic grievances—usually not in +the form of economic distress, but rather a feeling on the part +of some of the chief enterprising groups that their opportunities +for getting on in this world are unduly limited by political +arrangements—would seem to be one of the symptoms of revolution. +These feelings must, of course, be raised to an effective +social pitch by propaganda, pressure-group action, public meetings, +and preferably a few good dramatic riots, like the Boston +Tea Party. As we shall see, these grievances, however close they +are to the pocketbook, must be made respectable, must touch +the soul. What is really but a restraint on a rising and already +successful group, or on several such groups, must appear as rank +injustice towards everyone in the society. Men may revolt partly +or even mainly because they are hindered, or, to use Dr. George +Pettee’s expressive word, <em>cramped</em>; but to the world—and, save +for a very few hypocrites, also to themselves—they must appear +<em>wronged</em>. Revolutions cannot do without the word “justice.”</p> + +<p>All this, however, is rather less than what the Marxists seem +to mean when they talk about the revolutions of the seventeenth, +eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries as deliberately the +work of a class-conscious bourgeoisie. Not having the benefit of +the writings of Marx to go by, nor indeed those of the still little +known Adam Smith, even eighteenth-century revolutionists and +discontented spirits used a very non-economic vocabulary. Of +course the Marxist, aided by Freud, can reply neatly that economic +motivation drove these bourgeois at an un- or sub-conscious +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>level. The trouble with this, from the point of view of +the person brought up in the conventions of professional historical +research, is that the subconscious never, or rarely, writes +documents or makes speeches. If we confine ourselves to what +these bourgeois said and did, we find plenty of evidence that +separate groups—the American merchants, for instance—felt +specific economic grievances, but no signs that bourgeois, entrepreneurs, +business men, were aware that as a class their interests +in free economic expansion were blocked by existing “feudal” +arrangements. Indeed in France a great many business men +were more annoyed by the semi-free trade treaty of 1786 with +England than by any other governmental step. Certainly one +finds no trace of men in England or America or France saying: +“Organized feudalism is preventing the triumph of middle-class +capitalism. Let us rise against it.” Nor, as a matter of fact, were +there in these countries just before the revolutions any serious +economic barriers to prevent the clever lad, even in the lower +classes, from making money if he possessed the money-making +gifts. Dozens of careers—a Pâris-Duverney, an Edmund Burke, +a John Law, a John Hancock—show this. Certainly one cannot +deny that class antagonisms existed in these countries; but so +far as we can judge, these class antagonisms do not seem to +have a clear and simple economic basis. In twentieth-century +Russia, of course, these antagonisms were expressed in the language +of economics, even though here we shall probably also +find that human sentiments as well as human interests are +involved.</p> + +<p>To sum up so far, if we look at economic life in these societies +in the years preceding revolution, we note first, that they +have been on the whole prosperous; second, that their governments +are chronically short of money—shorter, that is, than +most governments usually are; third, that certain groups feel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>that governmental policies are against their particular economic +interests; fourth, that, except in Russia, class economic interests +are not openly advanced in propaganda as a motive for attempting +to overturn existing political and social arrangements. It is +interesting to note here that Professor R. B. Merriman, in a +study of six seventeenth-century revolutions in England, France, +the Netherlands, Spain, Portugal, and Naples, finds that they +all had in common a financial origin, all began as protests +against taxation.</p> + +<p>If now we turn from the stresses and strains of economic life +to the actual workings of the machinery of government, we +find a much clearer situation. Here, again, we must not posit +a normal condition in which this machinery works perfectly. +Government here on earth is at best a rough and ready thing, +and the governed will always find something to grumble about, +from favoritism in distributing low-number automobile license +plates to post-office pen points. But there are obviously degrees +of governmental inefficiency, and degrees of patience on the +part of the governed. In our four societies the governments +seem to have been relatively inefficient, and the governed relatively +impatient.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the near-bankruptcy of a government in a prosperous +society might be regarded as good <i lang="la">a priori</i> evidence of its inefficiency, +at least in the old days when governments undertook +few social or “socialized” services. France in 1789 is a striking +example of a society the government of which simply no longer +works well. For generations French kings and their ministers +had fought the particularistic tendencies of the provinces to +get out of the control of Paris by devising a whole series of +agencies of centralization, which may be said in a sense to run +from the <i lang="la">missi dominici</i> of Charlemagne to the <i lang="fr">intendants</i> of +Richelieu and Louis XIV. Almost as if they had been Anglo-Saxons, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>however, they destroyed very little of the old in the +process, so that France in 1789 was like an attic stuffed full of +all kinds of old furniture—including some fine new chairs that +just wouldn’t fit in the living room. We need not go too deeply +into the details of the situation, which can perhaps be summed +up graphically by saying that in the sense in which you could +make a map of the United States showing all our administrative +areas—townships, counties, states—you could not possibly make +one map of the administrative areas of old France. Even the +confusion added to an administrative map of the United States +by the various, and relatively new, federal commissions, bureaus, +agencies, administrations, does not begin to equal that of +France in 1789. You would need at least half a dozen maps +to show the criss-cross units of <i lang="fr">paroisse</i>, <i lang="fr">seigneurie</i>, <i lang="fr">baillage</i>, +<i lang="fr">sénéchaussée</i>, <i lang="fr">généralité</i>, <i lang="fr">gouvernement</i>, <i lang="fr">pays d’état et d’élection</i>, +<i lang="fr">les cinq grosses fermes</i>, <i lang="fr">pays de grande et de petite +gabelle</i>—and this is but a beginning.</p> + +<p>There is told about Louis XV one of those revealing anecdotes +the actual historical truth of which is unimportant, since +they reflect contemporary opinion of a concrete condition. +Traveling in the provinces, his majesty saw that a town hall or +some such building in which he was to be received had a leaky +roof. “Ah, if I were only a minister, I’d have that fixed,” he +remarked. A government of which such a tale could be told +was perhaps despotic, but most certainly inefficient. In general, +it would seem the inefficiency is more readily recognized by +those who suffer from it than is the despotism.</p> + +<p>The incompetence of the English government under the first +two Stuarts is much less clear, but one can safely say that the +central government was not as well run, especially under +James I, as it had been under Elizabeth. What is most striking +in the English situation is the total inadequacy to modern government +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>of a tax system based on the modest needs of a feudal +central government. For the government of James I was beginning +to be a modern government, to undertake certain elementary +social services, and to rest on a bureaucracy and an +army that had to be paid in cash. The chronic need for money +which confronted James I and Charles I was by no means a +result of riotous living and courtly extravagance, but was for +the most part brought on by expenses no modern government +could have avoided. And yet their income was on the whole +determined and collected by old-fashioned medieval methods. +At any rate it is clear that the Stuarts needed money; but their +attempts to fill their coffers were awkward, hand-to-mouth expedients +that brought them into sharp quarrels with the only +people from whom they could collect money—the gentry and +the middle class. Their struggles with Parliament threw the +whole machinery of English government out of gear.</p> + +<p>In America the failure of the machinery was a double one. +First, the central colonial administration in Westminster had +been allowed to grow in the hit-or-miss fashion Anglophiles +have long regarded as the height of political wisdom. In this +crisis, however, muddling through clearly was not enough. The +attempted reform in colonial administration after the Seven +Years’ War only made matters worse, as did Turgot’s attempted +reforms in France, since it was carried out in a series of advances +and retreats, cajolings and menaces, blowings-hot and +blowings-cold. Second, within most of the colonies the machinery +of government had never been properly adjusted to the +frontier. The newer western regions of many colonies complained +that representation, courts, administrative areas, were +rigged in favor of the older seaboard settlements.</p> + +<p>The breakdown of Czarist administration is now so much a +commonplace that one is tempted to suspect that it has been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>a bit exaggerated. Looking at the decades preceding 1917—for +in all these countries we have been considering the background +of the revolutions and not their actual outbreaks—it seems +possible to maintain that the government of Russia in peacetime, +at least, was perhaps a bit more of a going concern than +the other governments we have been studying. From Catherine +the Great to Stolypin a great deal of actual improvement can +be seen in Russian government. But one thing is clear from +the hundred years preceding 1914. Russia could not organize +herself for war, and failure in war had, especially in 1905, +brought with it a partial collapse of the machinery of internal +administration. We must be very careful here to stick to facts +and to avoid judgments which have so insinuated themselves +into our awareness of Russia that we regard them as facts. It +may be that there is some wild oriental element in the Russian +soul that makes Russians both incompetent and submissive +politically, subject, however, to fits of alcoholic rebellion. This +soul is certainly very hard to observe scientifically; and even +in literature one may hesitate to label Dostoevski more Russian +than Turgenev, who seems far from wild, oriental, drunken or +mystic. For our purposes, it is sufficient to note that the Russian +<em>governmental</em> breakdown, clear in 1917 or even 1916, was +by no means clear, say, in 1912.</p> + +<p>Finally, one of the most evident uniformities we can record +is the effort made in each of our societies to reform the machinery +of government. Nothing can be more erroneous than +the picture of the old regime as an unregenerate tyranny, sweeping +to its end in a climax of despotic indifference to the clamor +of its abused subjects. Charles I was working to “modernize” +his government, to introduce into England some of the efficient +methods of the French. Strafford is in some ways but an unlucky +Richelieu. George III and his ministers were trying very +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>hard to pull together the scattered organs of British colonial +government. Indeed, it was this attempt at reform, this desire to +work out a new colonial “system,” that gave the revolutionary +movement in America a start. In both France and Russia, there +is a series of attempted reforms, associated with names like Turgot, +Malesherbes, Necker, and Stolypin. It is true that these +reforms were incomplete, that they were repealed or nullified +by sabotage on the part of the privileged. But they are on the +record, an essential part of the process that issued in revolution +in these countries.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_52"><em>III. The Desertion of the Intellectuals</em></h3> + +<p>So far we have fixed our attention on the machinery of economic +and political life, and have tried to distinguish signs of +any approaching breakdown. Let us now turn to the state of +mind—or better, feeling—of various groups within these societies. +First we may ask the question, does the disorganization of +the government find a counterpart in the organization of its +opponents? We shall have later to deal with what are nowadays +well known as “pressure groups,” men and women organized in +societies with special aims, societies which bring all sorts of +pressure—from propaganda and lobbying to terrorism—to the +attaining of their aims. Such societies in one form or another +are apparently a constituent part of all modern states and the +mere fact of their existence cannot be taken as a symptom of +revolution, or we should have to regard the A.S.P.C.A. or anti-billboard +associations as signs of a coming second American +revolution. There seems to be no simple and sole test to determine +when and under what conditions the existence of pressure +groups may be taken as a symptom of approaching political instability. +The pre-revolutionary decades in our four societies do +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>show, however, an intensity of action on the part of pressure +groups, an action more and more directed as time goes on towards +the radical alteration of existing government. Certain +groups, indeed, begin to go beyond lobbying and propaganda, +begin to plan and organize direct action, or at least a supplanting +of the government in some dramatic way.</p> + +<p>In America the merchant’s committees organized to resist +measures for imperial control did a great deal of quite modern +pressure-group work, from straight propaganda to stirring +up popular demonstrations and to intercolonial co-operation +through resolutions, conferences, and so on. They form the +prelude to those efficient revolutionary cells, the correspondence +committees Sam Adams handled so well in the 1770’s. Similar +organizations are to be found lower down the social scale, where +they edge over into boisterous tavern parties. In many of the +colonies, the legislatures could be used for pressure-group work +against the imperial government in a way not possible in the +other societies we are studying. The New England town meeting +provided a ready-made framework for this kind of agitation.</p> + +<p>In France, the work of Cochin has shown how what he calls +the <i lang="fr">sociétés de pensée</i>, informal groups gathered together to +discuss the great work of the Enlightenment, gradually turned +to political agitation and finally helped steer elections to the +Estates-General of 1789. Though the official school of historians +in the Third Republic has always distrusted such notions, it is +difficult for an outsider not to feel that Cochin has put his +finger on the essential form of group action which turned mere +talk and speculation into revolutionary political work. Freemasonry, +even French Republican historians admit, had a place +in the preparation of the revolution. Masonic activity in +eighteenth-century France was clearly no dark plot, but it certainly +was far from being purely social, recreational, or educational. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>Almost all the ambitious nobles and bankers, almost all +the intellectuals, were freemasons. Even at the time, clerical +conservatives were shocked at what they considered the subversive +aspects of freemasonry.</p> + +<p>In Russia, societies of all degrees of hostility to things as they +were had long flourished. Nihilists, anarchists, socialists of all +stripes, liberals, westernizers, and anti-westernizers, expressed +themselves in various ways from bomb-throwing to voting at +Duma elections. One gathers from a consideration of the last +years of the Czarist regime that the diversity and cross-purposes +of its opponents did much to keep that regime in the saddle. +Certainly the Russian revolution had plenty of advance publicity, +and the role of pressure groups in its preparation is singularly +clear.</p> + +<p>England here is a less clear case. Nevertheless there are definite +indications of systematic opposition of merchants and +some of the gentry to measures like Ship Money, and the parliamentary +majorities which were rolled up against Charles +after the period of personal government were the product of +embryo pressure groups, as a glance at the very prolific pamphlet +literature of the time will show. Moreover, the English +revolution was the last of the great social overturns within the +active domination of specifically Christian ideas. In a sense, the +pressure groups most obvious in seventeenth-century England +are simply the Puritan churches, and especially the churches +called Independent. Their very existence was as much a menace +to Charles as was that of the Bolshevik party to Nicholas.</p> + +<p>It must be noted that some of these pressure groups, the +American merchant’s committees, the French <i lang="fr">sociétés de +pensée</i> and freemasons, for instance, would not in the heyday +of their action have admitted they were working for a revolution, +certainly not for a violent revolution. What perhaps separates +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>them from pressure groups like the A.S.P.C.A. or anti-billboard +associations—which we can surely agree are not to be +taken as symptomatic of revolution—is their basic aim at a +radical change in important political processes. Thus the +American merchants were really aiming to reverse the whole +new imperial policy of Westminster; the French who prepared +the elections to the Third Estate were aiming at a new +“constitution” for France. On the other hand, some of the +Russian organizations were from the very start violently revolutionary; +but these were not the important elements in the +Russian situation from 1905 to 1917, any more than the antinomians +or anarchistic religious sects were in England before +1639.</p> + +<p>There were, then, pressure groups with purposes more or less +revolutionary in all these societies. Their activity is seen against +a background of political and moral discussion which in these +societies seems particularly intense. We come now to a symptom +of revolution well brought out in Mr. Lyford P. Edwards’s +<cite>Natural History of Revolution</cite>, and there described as the +“transfer of the allegiance of the intellectuals.” Although the +word “desertion” has perhaps unfortunate moral overtones, the +shorter phrase “desertion of the intellectuals” is so much more +convenient that we propose to use it, rather than the longer +one, in this study.</p> + +<p>We must, however, be clear as to what we are talking about +before we attempt to use the desertion of the intellectuals as +a symptom. Intellectuals we may define without undue worry +over preciseness as the writers, teachers, and preachers. Further +subdivision into the small group of leaders who initiate, or at +least stand prominently in the public eye, and the larger group +who grind over material they get from the leaders, is not of +major importance here. What is important, and somewhat puzzling, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>is the general position of the intellectuals in our Western +society since the Middle Ages. Clearly we must not posit agreement +among its intellectuals before we decide that a given +society is reasonably stable. Even in the thirteenth century, in +which so many of our contemporary thinkers find an enviable +unanimity as to fundamentals of belief, the amount of bickering +among the intellectuals was in reality very considerable. +There were rebels and prophets aplenty throughout the Middle +Ages. In modern times we expect the intellectuals to disagree. +Moreover, for a number of reasons, writers, teachers, and +preachers are to a large degree committed by their function to +take a critical attitude towards the daily routine of human +affairs. Lacking experience of action under the burden of responsibility, +they do not learn how little <em>new</em> action is usually +possible or effective. An intellectual as satisfied with the world +as with himself would simply not be an intellectual.</p> + +<p>Here, as so often in the social sciences, and indeed in the +natural sciences, we are dealing with a question where quantitative +and qualitative differences shade most confusingly one +into the other. Quantitatively, we may say that in a society +markedly unstable there seem to be absolutely more intellectuals, +at any rate comparatively more intellectuals, bitterly attacking +existing institutions and desirous of a considerable +alteration in society, business, and government. Purely metaphorically, +we may compare intellectuals of this sort to the +white corpuscles, guardians of the bloodstream; but there can +be an excess of white corpuscles, and when this happens you +have a diseased condition.</p> + +<p>Qualitatively, we may discern a difference of attitude, partly, +no doubt, produced by the numbers and unity of these intellectuals +in attack, but partly produced by a subtler reality. Victorian +England, for instance, was a society in equilibrium, an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>equilibrium now in retrospect a bit unstable, but still an equilibrium. +Here Carlyle upbraided a generation addicted to Morison’s +Pills instead of to heroes, Mill worried uncomfortably +over the tyranny of the majority, Matthew Arnold found England +short of sweetness and light, Newman sought at Rome an +antidote for the poison of English liberalism, Morris urged his +countrymen to break up machines and return to the comforts +of the Middle Ages, and even Tennyson was worried over his +failure to attain to anything more useful than a high, vague, +and philosophical discontent. Many, though by no means all, +Victorian intellectuals were in disagreement among themselves, +united apparently in nothing but a profound dislike for their +environment. If, however, you look at them carefully you will +find a curious agreement that not too much is to be done right +away to remedy matters. It is not, as we are told so often of +the scholastic intellectuals of the Middle Ages, that these Victorians +were in agreement on fundamental metaphysical and +theological assumptions. They weren’t in any such agreement. +It is rather that they were in agreement about the less dignified +but in some ways more important routines and habits of daily +life, and they did not expect the government to change such +matters.</p> + +<p>The difference between the intellectual atmosphere of a +group like the Victorians, writers who cannot be said as a whole +to have deserted, and a group which has deserted, will be clear +in a moment if we look at that famous group in eighteenth-century +France which stood at the center of the great Enlightenment. +One has first the impression of immense numbers of +intellectuals, great and small, all studying matters political and +sociological, all convinced that the world, and especially France, +needs making over from the tiniest and more insignificant details +to the most general moral and legal principles. Any of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>textbooks will give you the roll—Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, +Raynal, d’Holbach, Volney, Helvétius, d’Alembert, Condorcet, +Bernardin de St. Pierre, Beaumarchais—rebels all, men leveling +their wit against Church and State or seeking in Nature a perfection +that ought to be in France. You will hardly find active +literary conservatives like Sam Johnson or Sir Walter Scott, nor +even literary neutrals, men pursuing in letters a beauty or an +understanding quite outside politics.</p> + +<p>Literature in late eighteenth-century France is overwhelmingly +sociological. If you look in the yellowing remains of +French eighteenth-century journalism, if you try to reconstruct +the chatter of salons and clubs, you will find the same chorus +of complaints and criticisms of existing institutions, the same +search for Nature’s simple plan of perfection in politics. There +is both a bitterness and a completeness in this chorus of complaint +that you will not find in Victorian complaints. Statistically, +one might establish the fact that there were proportionately +more intellectuals “against the government” in eighteenth-century +France than in nineteenth-century England. But the +difference goes beyond statistics, and into what we have called +the qualitative difference. The French have a tone, at once +more bitter and more hopeful, quite different from the Victorians. +That this is not altogether a national difference will +be clear to anyone reading the pamphlet literature of the age +of Milton. Then the English intellectuals had deserted, as they +had not under Victoria.</p> + +<p>Russia, too, is a clear example of this desertion of the intellectuals. +There is certainly much more than political propaganda +in the series of novelists who have made Russian literature +a part of the education of us all. But there is unmistakably +political and social criticism of Czarist Russia even in +the work of the most Olympian of them, Turgenev. And the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>impression one gets from even a cursory view of Russian intellectual +life in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries is +unmistakable; to write, teach, or preach in those days meant +being against the government. There are exceptions, and degrees +of opposition, but the above statement would probably +be accepted even by present-day Russian exiles.</p> + +<p>America is not so neat an instance. In Boston, for instance, +in the 1760’s and 70’s, a good many of the kind of people we +are discussing—intellectuals will have to do—were as firmly as +such people are now against so un-Bostonian an activity as sedition. +It is clear that Harvard was by no means unanimous +against the Crown, let alone in favor of the democratic machinations +of her distinguished alumnus, Sam Adams. But if the literary +and journalistic output in the colonies between 1750 and +1775—and even if we include the sermons—could be statistically +assigned as either for or against the actual policies of the imperial +government, there seems little doubt as to the very considerable +balance against these policies. The Enlightenment, +especially through Locke and Montesquieu, had come to the +American colonies. The natural and inalienable rights of man +were in this country, as in Europe, concepts introduced by +intellectuals.</p> + +<p>England may seem at first sight an exception to the desertion +of the intellectuals. Lovelace, Suckling, even Donne seem +hardly preoccupied with sociology. Yet at a second glance it is +quite clear that English literature under the first two Stuarts +is far from being the chorus of loyal praise it was in the days +of Queen Bess. A glance into Professor Grierson’s <cite>Cross Currents +in English Literature in the Seventeenth Century</cite> will +show how much that literature was a dissolvent of the merry +England of the Renaissance. Even more important is the fact +that in those days there were no real newspapers, and the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>pamphlet took their place. Now the pamphlet literature of the +early seventeenth century in England, quantitatively enormous, +even by modern standards, is almost wholly preoccupied with +religion or politics—better, religion <em>and</em> politics—about as good +an example of the desertion of the intellectuals as could be +found. Indeed, as Professor Gooch has written, in the reign of +James I “proclamation followed proclamation against the sale +of ‘Seditious and Puritan books’ and there was ‘much talk of +libels and dangerous writings.’”</p> + +<p>To what do these intellectuals desert? To another and better +world than that of the corrupt and inefficient old regimes. +From a thousand pens and voices there are built up in the +years before the revolution actually breaks out what one must +now fashionably call the foundations of the revolutionary myth—or +folklore, or symbols, or ideology. Some such better world +of the ideal is contrasted with this immediate and imperfect +world in all the ethical and religious systems under which +Western men have lived, and notably in Christianity. It is not +quite accurate to assert that for medieval Christianity the other, +ideal world is safely put off to heaven. Yet it is clear that with +the Reformation and the Renaissance men began to think more +earnestly about bringing part of heaven, at any rate, to this +earth. What differentiates this ideal world of the revolutionaries +from the better world as conceived by more pedestrian persons +is a flaming sense of the immediacy of the ideal, a feeling that +there is something in all men better than their present fate, a +conviction that what is, not only ought not, but need not, be.</p> + +<p>We shall later meet these revolutionary ideals in their fully +developed forms. Here we need only notice that in the writings +and preachings of the English Puritans—and to a lesser extent +the constitutional lawyers—in those of the eighteenth-century +<em>philosophes</em>, in those of the nineteenth- and twentieth-century +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>Marxists, the evil, and indeed illegitimate existing regime is very +effectively contrasted with the good, and indeed inevitable, rule +of right to come. In England, America, and in France, the +essential principle to which men appealed against present conditions +was Nature, with its clear and simple laws. Ship Money +in England, Stamp Act in America, patents of nobility in +France, were all contrary to the law of Nature. Even in England +and America, where there was also much appeal to rights +to be found in Magna Charta or the common law, the final +appeal was always to a law of Nature “engraved in the hearts +of men.” As the Puritan Henry Parker wrote in England, the +common courts were “furnished only with rules of particular +justice, which rules being too narrow for so capacious a subject +[the relation of Crown to People] we must refer to those that +the original laws of Nature hold out to us.” By the eighteenth +century this kind of language had become almost universal +among intellectuals. That Nature always counseled what the +intellectuals in revolt wanted is an observation we must in +these days feel bound to make. It seems likely, however, that +for most of those who appealed to her Nature was as definite +and explicit as God had once been, and as dialectical materialism +was to be.</p> + +<p>For the Russian writers and agitators of the Czarist regime, +Nature did not play so prominent a part. Not that Nature is +lacking in the pages of Tolstoy and his fellows, and the contrast +between “artificial” society and “natural” instincts was not +disdained even in Socialist propaganda. But the official ideology +of most of the Russian radicals was Marxism, and Marxism +finds that the existence of capitalists, the rule of the bourgeoisie, +is altogether natural. Only, its destruction by the proletariat is +also natural, and this destruction is determined by forces quite +beyond capitalistic control. The inevitable march of economic +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>forces would then for the Marxists accomplish what the English +Puritan expected from God and the French <i lang="fr">philosophe</i> +from Nature and Reason. The essential thing all these pre-revolutionary +agitators have in common, the essential ingredient, +intellectually at least, in the revolutionary myth, is this abstract, +all-powerful force, this perfect ally.</p> + +<p>One special point is here worth our attention for a moment. +Not only does God, Nature, or dialectical materialism make +the victory of the present under-dog certain. The present upper-dog +can be shown—perhaps for propaganda purposes <em>must</em> be +shown—to have acquired his preponderance by an accident, or +a particularly dirty trick, while God or Nature was temporarily +off duty. Thus in the English revolution the royalists and indeed +the gentry as a whole were labeled “Normans,” descendants +of a group of foreign invaders with no right to English +soil. John Lilburne, the Leveller, goes so far as to assert that +the whole common law was a badge of slavery imposed upon +the free people of England by the Norman Conquest. American +hatred of absentee British government hardly needed such artificial +fanning. The French were told by no less a person than +Siéyès that all their trouble came from the usurpations of the +Franks over a thousand years ago. French nobleman in 1789 +were descendants of barbarous Germans, while French commoners +were descendants of civilized Gauls and Romans. Revolution +was but restoring the conditions of 450 <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span> Marxism +explained the exploiting class without recourse to such pseudo-historical +notions. And yet there is plenty of reference in Russian +revolutionary agitation to the usurpation of land by the +nobles, to their Varangian, or Tartar, or Western, or at any +rate foreign origins.</p> + +<p>Finally, a great deal of energy has been expended on the +question as to whether this revolutionary ideology “causes” revolutionary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>action, or whether it is merely a sort of superfluous +decoration with which the revolutionists cover their real acts +and real motives. Most of this discussion is in the highest degree +futile, since it is based on a crude notion of causation +altogether untenable in fruitful scientific work beyond a very +simple level. There is no more point disputing whether Rousseau +made the French revolution or the French revolution +made Rousseau than in disputing whether egg or chicken came +first. We note that in our pre-revolutionary societies the kind +of discontents, the specific difficulties about economic, social +and political conditions that hard-boiled moderns focus on are +invariably accompanied by a very great deal of writing and +talking about ideals, about a better world, about some very +abstract forces tending to bring about that better world. It is, +indeed, the <em>expression</em> of ideas, rather than particular ideas—which +may vary enormously in different revolutions—that makes +the uniformity. We find that ideas are always a part of the pre-revolutionary +situation, and we are quite content to let it go +at that. No ideas, no revolution. This does not mean that ideas +<em>cause</em> revolutions. It merely means that they form part of the +mutually dependent variables we are studying.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_63"><em>IV. Classes and Class Antagonisms</em></h3> + +<p>Certain groups in our four societies of the old regimes nourished +feelings of dislike, mixed or unmixed with contempt, for +other groups. If we avoid the narrow economic connotations of +the term, we may call these groups classes; if we realize the +struggle was not simply one between two contending classes, +feudal vs. bourgeois or bourgeois vs. proletariat, we may even +speak of class struggles. This type of struggle in one form or +another seems as endemic as many other kinds of violence in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>the stablest of Western societies. Here again we must not postulate +for the normal society with which we contrast our pre-revolutionary +societies, a lying down together of the lion and +the lamb. But even so, it will soon appear that these class +hatreds are stepped up, exacerbated in a noticeable degree in +the old regimes. Class distinctions are seen, not as barriers the +clever, brave, or ambitious can cross, but as unnatural and unjust +privileges, established by wicked men against the express +intention of Almighty God, Nature, or Science. These class +struggles are by no means simple duels; there are groups within +groups, currents within currents. We must try and analyze some +of these currents.</p> + +<p>In the first place, what may be called the ruling class seems +in all four of our societies to be divided and inept. By ruling +class we understand, it may be too generously, the people who +run things, the people in the public eye—the politicians, the +important civil servants, the bankers, the men of affairs, the +great landowning nobles, the officers, the priesthood, perhaps +even some of the intellectuals. Formal nobility of the blood has +in the Western world usually been a much too narrow test of +membership in a ruling class. Even in early modern times, the +ruling class was something like what we have outlined above, +the minority of men and women who seemed to lead dramatic +lives, about whom the more exciting scandals arose, who set the +fashion, who had wealth, position, or at least reputation, who, +in short, ruled. Indeed, in a socially stable society it seems likely +that the great masses of poor and middling folk, as also the +obscure and unsuccessful people who by birth and training +might seem to be in the ruling class, really accept the leadership +of those at the top of the social pyramid, and dream +rather of <em>joining</em> them than of <em>dislodging</em> them.</p> + +<p>Now the ruling classes in our societies seem, and not simply +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span><i lang="la">a posteriori</i> because they were in fact overthrown, to have been +unsuccessful in fulfilling their functions. It is unlikely that +short of Sparta or Prussia the simpler military virtues alone are +enough for a ruling class. Such a class ought not, however, to +shrink from the use of force to maintain itself, and it ought not +to value wit and originality in its own members too highly. +Wit, at any rate, it can usually hire adequately enough from +other sources. A mixture of the military virtues, of respect for +established ways of thinking and behaving, and of willingness +to compromise, is probably an adequate rough approximation +of the qualities of a successful ruling class—qualities clearly +possessed by the Romans of Punic War times, and the English +of the eighteenth century, though the latter failed in relations +with America.</p> + +<p>When numerous and influential members of such a class +begin to believe that they hold power unjustly, or that all men +are brothers, equal in the eyes of eternal justice, or that the +beliefs they were brought up on are silly, or that “after us the +deluge,” they are not likely to resist successfully any serious attacks +on their social, economic and political position. The subject +of the decadence of a ruling class, and the relation of this +decadence to revolution, is a fascinating and, like so much of +sociology, a relatively unexplored subject. We can here do no +more than suggest that this decadence is not necessarily a +“moral” decadence if by “moral” you mean what a good evangelical +Christian means by that word. Successful ruling classes +have not infrequently been quite addicted to cruel sports, +drinking, gambling, adultery, and other similar pursuits which +we should no doubt all agree to condemn. It is a reasonable +assertion that the virtuous Lafayette was a much clearer sign +of the unfitness of the French aristocracy to rule than were +Pompadour or even Du Barry.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span></p> + +<p>The Russians here provide us with a <i lang="la">locus classicus</i>. To judge +from what appears of them in print, Russian aristocrats for +decades before 1917 had been in the habit of bemoaning the +futility of life, the backwardness of Russia, the Slavic sorrows +of their condition. No doubt this is an exaggeration. But clearly +many of the Russian ruling classes had an uneasy feeling that +their privileges would not last. Many of them, like Tolstoy, +went over to the other side. Others turned liberal, and began +that process of granting concessions here and withdrawing them +there that we have already noticed in France. Even in court +circles, it was quite the fashion by 1916 to ridicule the Czar +and his intimates. As Protopopov, a hated Czarist minister, +writes: “Even the very highest classes became <i lang="fr">frondeurs</i> before +the revolution; in the grand salons and clubs the policy of the +government received harsh and unfriendly criticism. The relations +which had been formed in the Czar’s family were analyzed +and talked over. Little anecdotes were passed about the head of +the state. Verses were composed. Many grand dukes openly attended +these meetings.... A sense of the danger of this sport +did not awaken until the last moment.”</p> + +<p>Finally, when those of them who had positions of political +power did use force, they used it sporadically and inefficiently. +We shall have more to say about this general problem of the +use of force when we come to the first stages of actual revolution. +In this connection it will be sufficient that the Russian +ruling classes, in spite of their celebrated Asiatic background, +were by the late nineteenth century more than half ashamed +to use force, and therefore used it badly, so that on the whole +those on whom force was inflicted were stimulated rather than +repressed. The line in actual practice of government between +force and persuasion is a subtle one, not to be drawn by formulas, +by “science” or textbooks, but by men skilled in the art of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>ruling. One of the best signs of the unfitness of the ruling class +to rule is the absence of this skill among its members. And this +absence is recorded in history in the cumulated minor disturbances +and discontents which precede revolution.</p> + +<p>Russia remains the classic instance of an inept ruling class, +but France is almost as good a case. The salons in which the +old regime was torn apart—verbally, of course—were presided +over by noblewomen and attended by noblemen. Princes of the +blood royal became freemasons, and if they did not quite plot +the overthrow of all decency, as witch-hunters like Mrs. Nesta +Webster seem to think, at least sought to improve themselves +out of their privileges and rank. Perhaps nowhere better than in +France is to be seen one of the concomitants of the kind of disintegration +of the ruling class we have been discussing. This is +the deliberate espousal by members of the ruling class of the +cause of discontented or repressed classes—upper-dogs voluntarily +turning under-dogs. It is not altogether cynical to hazard +the guess that this is sometimes an indication that there is about +to be a reversal in the position of the dogs. Lafayette is in some +ways a good example of this kind of upper-dog, since he seems +to have been an unintelligent and ambitious man, whose course +was largely determined by fashion. Lafayette tried to do what +his own circle would most admire, and since he could not dance +well—and his circle admired good dancing—he went to fight for +freedom in America, which was also something his circle admired. +But ruling classes cannot profitably fight for freedom—freedom, +that is, for the other fellow.</p> + +<p>In America this decadence of a ruling class is not a prominent +symptom of the coming revolution. Our native ruling class +was still young, still in the process of formation, and seen as a +class exhibited none of the ineptness we have noted in Russia +and France. But of course a large part of our ruling class espoused +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>the American revolution, which is probably one of the +reasons why our revolution stopped short of a full-blooded +Reign of Terror. As far as the ruling class in England at the time +of our revolution is concerned, it was very far from being capable +of a resolute course towards America. It managed to hold +on in England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but +only by granting concessions to the middle classes, concessions +which its French counterpart refused to grant. Many of these +Englishmen were, however, anything but defenders of the established +order as regards relations with America. Fox, Burke, the +Whigs in general, sided with the Americans even after 1775, +and their attitude unquestionably helped give the rebellious +Americans heart.</p> + +<p>Even in seventeenth-century England this sort of symptom +is to be discerned. In the English aristocracy of Jacobean times +there is not, of course, exactly the same mixture of weariness, +doubt, humanitarian hopes, and irresponsibility we have found +in Russia or in France. Yet most of these elements can be found +in the group later known as Cavaliers. Picturesque, romantic, appealing +though the Cavaliers seem to us now in literature and +tradition, it would be hard to maintain that they displayed the +solidarity and balance necessary to a ruling class. And the Cavalier +legend is not wholly a product of the years after the Great +Rebellion. The Cavaliers were romantic even to themselves, +and in a harsh world of Puritans and money-making had already +begun that search for a golden past so characteristic of the +émigrés of later revolutions. Nor are the enlightened or inspired, +the Lafayettes or the Tolstoys, altogether lacking in the English +ruling classes of the time. Even though you accept the nineteenth-century +evaluation of the English as always hard-headed, +practical, compromise-loving, you will do well to recall that a +Tudor gentleman gave the word “Utopia” to political thought, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>and that Harrington’s famous Utopia, <cite>Oceana</cite>, is a seventeenth-century +product.</p> + +<p>Still, what conceals from us the extent to which many able +and ambitious English gentlemen had deserted the established +order in early Stuart times is that they deserted, not as did Lafayette, +to America and the abstract rights of man, but to God +and the way of salvation. Puritanism, in one or another of its +many forms, proved attractive not merely to humble men, nor +even to traders and bankers, but to many of the gentry and the +nobility. Do not forget that Cromwell himself was a gentleman. +Finally, what we may call the politico-legal opposition to the +first two Stuarts—though separation of political and religious +for that time is purely a matter of analysis, the two being inextricably +mixed in the feelings of contemporaries—this politico-legal +opposition was, as far as leadership went, almost wholly +recruited from gentry and nobility. Men like Hampden and +Essex resemble Washington in that they are essentially conservatives +driven to rebellion by the ineptness of their immediate +rulers; they are not, like Lafayette, sentimental deserters of their +class.</p> + +<p>Except perhaps in America, we find the ruling classes in the +old regimes markedly divided, markedly unsuited to fulfill the +functions of a ruling class. Some have joined the intellectuals +and deserted the established order, have indeed often become +leaders in the crusade for a new order; others have turned rebels, +less because of hope for the future than because of boredom +with the present; others have gone soft, or indifferent, or +cynical. Many, possibly even most of the rank-and-file of the +ruling classes, the English squire, the French and Russian country +nobleman, retained the simple faith in themselves and their +position which is apparently necessary to a ruling class. But the +tone of life in the upper classes was not set by such as these. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>Fashion had deserted with the intellectuals. The sober virtues, +the whole complex series of value-judgments which guards a +privileged class from itself and others, all these were out of +fashion at Whitehall, at Versailles, at the old court of St. +Petersburg. <i lang="fr">Esprit de corps</i> is a subtle thing, difficult, indeed +impossible, to analyze with the methods of the chemist or the +statistician. The intricate balance of sentiments and habits +which hold men together in any such group as those we have +been discussing may be altered by changes apparently insignificant, +and extremely difficult to trace. But the fact of the +alteration is clear. The very wit, refinement, the cultural graces +so evident in what we know of the Cavaliers, the French aristocrats +of Versailles and the salons, the Russian upper classes of +the ballet, the opera, the novel, are signs of the decadence, not +necessarily moral, but certainly political, of a ruling class.</p> + +<p>Nor is it possible, even for those who find the simple forms +of the economic interpretation of history inadequate and misleading, +to deny that in three of our societies—England, France, +and Russia—there are clear signs that the ruling classes were in +a very shaky economic position. In each case there had been a +notable rise in the standards of living of the nobility and gentry; +finer houses, finer clothes, the luxuries brought by the decorative +arts, by sculpture, painting, and music all cost a great deal +of money, and were not in a purely economic sense good investments. +Though the prohibitions against a gentleman’s making +money in business were by no means as absolute, even in +France, as they sometimes appear in textbooks of history, it is +a fact that most gentlemen had neither the gifts nor the training +for such money-making. Most of them lived from agricultural +rents, which could not be stretched to meet their rising +costs, and from pensions, sinecures, and other aids from the government, +which were at least as inelastic. Notably for the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>French and Russian upper classes, it is clear that some of the +discontent which undermined their <i lang="fr">esprit de corps</i> at the +outbreak of the revolution had its origin in their economic difficulties.</p> + +<p>So much for the upper or ruling classes. The classes immediately +beneath them in the social structure display in England, +France, and Russia, and to a lesser degree in America, a more +than ordinary dislike for their superiors. Here once more we are +confronted with the problem of what is normal in class relationships +in Western societies. The view that in a normal +society there are no class antagonisms is as much to be rejected +as the Marxist view that in such societies—at least up to the +present—the class struggle has been unceasingly and equally +bitter and ferocious. A picture of our Old South, for instance, +which sees contented, well-fed slaves, prosperous artisans and +traders with no dislike for their gentlemanly patrons, a serene +plantation aristocracy nobly patriarchal, is plain nonsense; but +so, too, is one which sees only smoldering discontent among the +slaves, envy and hatred among poor whites, pride and fear +among the planters. Men in Western societies have never been +free, equal, and brothers; there has always been political, social, +and economic inequality among groups within these societies, +groups we commonly call classes. The existence of antagonisms +among classes is a fact, however much it may be to the interest +of the ruling class to deny it. But the various antagonisms, by +no means purely economic, which set class against class are in +a normal society subordinated to other concerns, wider or narrower, +cut across by other conflicts, subdued by other interests. +At any rate they are not concentrated, embittered, strengthened +by an almost unanimous support from the intellectuals, as we +shall find they were in the old regimes we are studying.</p> + +<p>In England, where we have usually been taught to believe +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>that class hatreds were minimized by the good relations between +country gentlemen and villagers, by the absorption of +younger sons of the nobility in the middle classes, by some +English sense of solidarity and decency, the seventeenth century +saw a bitter class struggle. The following quotation from Mrs. +Lucy Hutchinson is not only a fair specimen of the feelings of +a middle-class Puritan towards the nobility; it can stand as a +sample of the kind of intense, and always highly moral, atmosphere +of such class antagonisms in other pre-revolutionary societies: +“The court of the King [James I] was a nursery of lust +and intemperance ... the nobility of the land was utterly +debased.... The generality of the gentry of the land soon +learned the court fashion, and every great house in the country +soon became a sty of uncleanness. Then began murder, incest, +adultery, drunkenness, swearing, fornication, and all sorts of +ribaldry to be countenanced vices because they held such conformity +to the court example.” Or, more gently:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent20">“courtesy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With smoky rafters, than in tapst’ry halls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And courts of princes, where it first was nam’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And yet is most pretended.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>This was not written by an eighteenth-century disciple of Rousseau, +but by John Milton.</p> + +<p>We need hardly labor the point that both the French and +the Russian middle classes hated, and envied, and felt morally +superior to their aristocracies, and that their writings are filled +with passages indicative of the strength and spread of these +sentiments. At fourteen years Manon Phlipon, later as Madame +Roland something more than Egeria to the Girondin party, +told her mother after a week spent with a lady of the suite of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>the Dauphiness, “Another few days and I shall detest these +people so much that I shan’t be able to control my hatred.” +And to her mother’s question as to what harm these aristocrats +did her she answered, “It’s just feeling the injustice, thinking +every moment about the absurdity of it all.” The higher the +French bourgeois rose, the closer he came in his way of life +to the aristocracy, the more vividly in some respects he felt the +gap which separated him from his neighbor with four quarters +of nobility. “It wasn’t the taxes,” wrote Rivarol in his memoirs, +“nor the <i lang="fr">lettres de cachet</i>, nor all the other abuses of authority; +it wasn’t the vexations of the <i lang="fr">intendants</i>, nor the ruinous delays +of justice which most irritated the nation; it was the prejudice +of nobility. What proves this is that it was the bourgeois, +the men of letters, the financiers, in fine all those who were +envious of the nobility, who raised against the nobility the +petty bourgeois of the towns and the peasants in the country.”</p> + +<p>How far the lower classes or the proletariat really were stirred +against their betters in these societies is not wholly clear, save +perhaps in Russia. In England there can be little doubt that +the more prosperous artisan classes in the big cities, and in +regions like East Anglia the peasantry, were won over to Puritanism; +and this meant hostility to the Anglican upper classes. +Mixed inextricably with the religious fervor and phrases of the +pamphlet literature is a great deal of social hatred, which later +came out fully as the revolution moved towards its radical extreme. +The French peasantry in many, perhaps most regions, +showed by acts in 1789 that they hated their absentee landlords, +or the institutions of land tenure, but conclusive evidence that +this hatred was much stronger and more universal than it had +been for several hundred years has not yet been produced. We +cannot be sure whether they hated individuals or a status. Certainly +the old notion, evident even in the work of Taine, that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>the French peasantry were in 1789 smarting under a sharpened +double oppression from government and from <i lang="fr">seigneurs</i>, is at +least a revolutionary myth rather than an historical fact. A great +deal of work remains to be done in the objective study of the +actual sentiments of suppressed or oppressed classes at the bottom +of the social scale.</p> + +<p>The Russian proletariat, at least in the cities, had certainly +been exposed to several generations of Marxist propaganda, and +had acquired, so far as its elite goes, a sense of mission against +nobles and middle class alike. As the first manifesto of the +Social Democratic party, issued in 1898 before the split between +Mensheviks and Bolsheviks, put it: “The farther one goes to +the East of Europe the weaker, baser and more cowardly becomes +the bourgeoisie and the larger cultural and political tasks +fall to the lot of the proletariat. On its strong shoulders the +Russian working class must bear and will bear the cause of conquering +political liberty. This is necessary, but only as the first +step toward the achievement of the great historic mission of the +proletariat: the creation of a social order in which there will +be no place for the exploitation of man by man. The Russian +proletariat will cast off from itself the yoke of the autocracy in +order with all the greater energy to continue the struggle with +capitalism and with the bourgeoisie until the final victory of +socialism.” Just how the Russian peasants felt towards classes +above them is a difficult problem. We may assume a good deal +of variety, as also in eighteenth-century France, depending on +local conditions, the character of the landlord, the prosperity +of the peasants themselves. There is some indication that by +the twentieth century one can risk the generalization: the more +prosperous the peasants, the more discontented. But here, as +throughout the range of our study, trustworthy materials of one +kind are scarce: neither historians nor sociologists have paid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>sufficient systematic attention to the <em>sentiments</em> towards other +groups which seem to prevail in a given social group or class.</p> + +<p>We have noted the ineptness of the ruling classes, and the +existence among the middle and parts of the lower of more +than normally strong sentiments hostile to the ruling classes. +It remains to consider how far these class lines were rigid, how +far, in particular the “career open to talents,” existed in these +societies. One might well argue <i lang="la">a priori</i> that in Western societies +any approach to a rigid caste-system which would bar the +possibility of rise to the able but low-born, any stoppage of +what Pareto calls the <em>circulation of the elites</em>, would be a very +important preliminary symptom of revolution. Able men do +seem to get born in the humblest ranks, and an accumulation +of able and discontented men would provide splendid natural +leaders for groups restive and ready for revolt. Yet this test of +the career open to talents is one of the hardest to apply to our +societies. The normal standard for a Western society is here +very difficult indeed to sketch, even as roughly as we have done +for our other variables.</p> + +<p>One might start with a characteristic American assumption, +and say that in this country at least we have full freedom of +opportunity. Very well, let us take at random some self-made +contemporaries—Babe Ruth, Henry Ford, Rudy Vallée, Sinclair +Lewis. It would be comforting to be able to say confidently that +in the societies of the old regimes these able men would have +been kept down by hard-and-fast caste lines, condemned to +obscurity or to revolt. Unfortunately, it would not be true. We +must not, indeed, be indecently sure about such hypothetical +matters. The professional athlete as such could probably not +have attained in any other society than our own the wealth Mr. +Ruth has nor as much honor—public attention, if you prefer—save +perhaps in the Rome of the gladiators. Yet in early feudal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>society sheer physical strength might have won him knighthood, +and even in later societies noble patronage might have +carried him far. Mr. Ford may be taken as the entrepreneur-inventor, +and though one doubts whether any other society +than our own would have made him a national hero, it is likely +that in eighteenth-century France or in twentieth-century +Russia he could have secured substantial financial success. Mr. +Vallée is the man who amuses, and Western society has usually +rewarded adequately, and sometimes highly, those who could +amuse it. Perhaps aristocracies have never quite concealed their +contempt and democracies have made no attempt to conceal +their admiration for those who amused them. Yet actors, musicians, +jesters and their like seem not, in spite of the example +of Figaro, to have been greatly irked by their social status in +the past. Certainly the French eighteenth century was kind +enough to them, even economically. As for Mr. Lewis, he +would presumably have been in his element among the +<i lang="fr">philosophes</i>, and with proper national and racial adjustments, +among the Gorkys and the Chekhovs. He would have made +proportionately quite as much money, and have been even more +honored.</p> + +<p>We are dealing with very subtle variables of human sentiments. +At all times and in all societies, probably, some men +feel that they have abilities which are denied free play by existing +social, political, and economic restrictions. Some men always +feel balked, cramped, kept-down, and some of them really are. +Probably in societies on the eve of revolution there are very +large numbers of such men. Yet it is very difficult to put one’s +finger on those kinds of activity, those fields of distinction, +where this restraint is most felt. Here as elsewhere the given +situation is always a complex of restraints, no one or two or +three of which would, without additional elements of disturbance, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>be anything but a quite normal social fact. Moreover, +there are other elements besides restraint. Men conditioned to +loyalty may put up with great hardships. Fact and feeling seem +to vary independently. Thus in Western society there has always +been—say in comparison with Hindu caste-society—a very +high degree of the “career open to talents.” The circulation of +the elites has always gone on. We can here but glance at our +societies and see whether there were any special limitations to +that circulation in the years prior to the revolution.</p> + +<p>In eighteenth-century France, the way to wealth and fame +was open practically unrestricted to business men, adventurers, +adventuresses, actors, artists, writers—to Pâris-Duverney, to Cagliostro, +to Mme. Du Barry, to Talma, to Watteau, to Voltaire. +The way to political power was much harder, though the Abbé +Dubois, an apothecary’s son, could attain its highest peak. On +the whole, substantial political power, the power of making programs +and policies, was open to the courtier talents even more +than to noble birth; administrative power was almost entirely +in the hands of the <i lang="fr">noblesse de robe</i>, an hereditary, conscientious, +and not incapable bureaucracy. Social position, the highest +honors, we are frequently told, went only to those who could +show four quarters of nobility. Certainly a privileged nobility +did exist, and was disliked in the abstract by many a bourgeois +who had no concrete experience of it. Twentieth-century Russia +is in many ways a close parallel in these respects. A privileged +nobility topped the social system, and closed the very highest +social honor to plebeian talent. This class was disliked and +bitterly disliked by those who saw it from the outside; and +no doubt many of its individual members were insufferably +haughty, overbearing, dissolute, vain, empty-headed, and the +rest, just as if they had come from the pages of <cite>A Tale of Two +Cities</cite>. Yet the way to fame and fortune was far from closed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>in pre-revolutionary Russia, with new industries rising, with an +active theatrical, ballet, and musical life, with university and +administrative positions open to ambitious and able young men +even from the villages. Rasputin you may perhaps regard as an +unhealthy example of the career open to talents, but you can +hardly deny that the Siberian monk reached the top.</p> + +<p>One clue to this problem of the circulation of the elite may +lie in a stoppage of that circulation in a particular and very +delicate spot, such as the professions, and especially the +“intellectual” professions; that is, among people especially liable +to the feeling of frustration, of being excluded from good +things. One is struck in studying French society in the years +just preceding the revolution with a kind of jam in the stream +of bright young men descending on Paris to write and talk +their way to fortune. Mercier in his <cite>Tableau de Paris</cite> tells how +every sunny day young men may be seen on the quays, washing +and drying their only shirts, ruffled and lacy symbol of high +social status. There are also in Russia signs of pressure in competition +in the ranks of what we should call “white-collar men,” +intellectuals, bureaucrats, clerks, and the like. We know that a +similar stoppage in the society of the Weimar Republic had a +great deal to do with the Nazi revolution of 1933. This symptom +is, like most others that indicate strong social tensions, +nearly lacking in eighteenth-century America, and extremely +difficult to trace, partly for lack of proper historical materials, +in the English revolution. Naturally enough, a stoppage in the +circulation of the elite into journalism, literature, and such +professions is likely to be rapidly reflected in the desertion of +the intellectuals.</p> + +<p>Finally, social antagonisms seem to be at their strongest when +a class has attained to wealth, but is, or feels itself, shut out +from the highest social distinction, and from positions of evident +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>and open political power. This, broadly speaking, does +describe the situation of the Calvinist gentry and merchants in +seventeenth-century England, the colonial aristocracy and merchants +of America, at least in relation to the British ruling +class, the French bourgeois of the eighteenth and the Russian +bourgeois of the nineteenth centuries. Individuals in each society +might rise from ranks even lower than the middle class, +and surmount all these barriers. Even as a class, the bourgeoisie +in all four societies really had a determining voice in major +political decisions even before the revolutions. But the countries +were “run” by other, and privileged, beings, and from the +highest social distinctions the bourgeoisie as a class were hopelessly +excluded. Moreover, this exclusion was symbolized, manifested +continuously in all but the most remote rural districts. +Long before Marx, long before Harrington’s <cite>Oceana</cite>, practical +men knew that political power and social distinction are the +handmaids of economic power. Where wealth cannot buy +everything—everything of this world, at any rate—you have a +fairly reliable preliminary sign of revolution.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_79"><em>V. Summary</em></h3> + +<p>In summing up, the most striking thing we must note is that +all of these preliminary signs—government deficits, complaints +over taxation, governmental favoring of one set of economic +interests over another, administrative entanglements and confusions, +desertion of the intellectuals, loss of self-confidence +among many members of the ruling class, conversion of many +members of that class to the belief that their privileges are unjust +or harmful to society, the intensification of social antagonisms, +the stoppage at certain points (usually in the professions, +the arts, perhaps the white-collar jobs generally) of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>career open to talents, the separation of economic power from +political power and social distinction—some, if not most of +these signs may be found in almost any modern society at +any time. With the wisdom of hindsight, we can now say that +in four, or at least in three, of our societies these—and no +doubt other signs we have omitted to consider—existed in +some unusual combination and intensities before revolution +ensued. But clearly we must infer from what we have just done +that in its earlier stages diagnosis of revolution is extremely +difficult, and certainly cannot be reduced to a neat formula, a +recipe, a set of rules. This is also true of the diagnosis of human +illnesses. The best diagnosticians, we are told on good authority, +could not possibly analyze out and put into formal logical +sequence all the steps they take in the clinical diagnosis of +disease.</p> + +<p>We are not, however, left altogether helpless before some +mystic gift for short-term prophecy in the successful diagnostician. +His methods are not those of magic, but rather the gift +for making what is, until familiarity has made it easy, the difficult +and rarely explicit synthesis of past experience and present +observation into a successful generalization—or hunch if you +prefer. And we can in this instance hazard something further +as to signs of revolution in our four societies. In all of them, +and especially in France and in Russia, there is as the actual +outbreak of revolution approaches increasing talk about revolution, +increasing consciousness of social tension, increasing +“cramp” and irritation. Prophets of evil there always are, and +we need not lay much stress on any specific prediction of a +given revolution, such as the Marquis d’Argenson made forty +years before the French revolution. But when such fears—or +hopes—become something like common property, when they +are, to use a very aged metaphor to which the invention of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>radio has given an ironic twist, in the air, then it is fairly safe +to take this general sentiment as a pretty conclusive sign +of revolution. Even then, however, we have a sign difficult to +use. For people never seem to expect revolution for themselves, +but only for their children. The actual revolution is always a +surprise. This is true even for Russia, where the revolution had +long been in the air.</p> + +<p>It must, however, be really in the air, and not simply in the +mouths of professional seers or timid conservatives. It must, +above all, go beyond the intellectuals. For, valuable as the desertion +of the intellectuals is as a sign if found with others, as part +of a syndrome, in itself alone this desertion proves nothing. +After all, one of the great functions of the intellectuals in +Western society has always been to shake ordinary mortals out +of their unthinking optimism, and Cassandra has perhaps as +much claim as Plato to be founder of a great academic tradition. +But Cassandra’s successors have not quite achieved her +unhappy infallibility.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_three"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">three</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">FIRST STAGES OF REVOLUTION</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_82"><em>I. The Eternal Figaro</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">There is in the <cite>Marriage of Figaro</cite> of Beaumarchais, first +performed at Paris in 1784, a famous soliloquy by Figaro +in which much of what we have laboriously analyzed in the previous +chapter is dramatically focused in a few pages. Figaro himself +is the able young man unjustly kept down by the pressure +of a social system built on privilege. As the scene opens he is +waiting in the darkness to surprise in an assignation his bride +and his master, the Count Almaviva. His first reflections on +feminine inconstancy pass over very rapidly into a violent attack +on his noble master. “Because you are a great lord, you think +you are a great genius! ... nobility, fortune, rank, appointments; +all this makes a man so proud! But what have you done +to deserve so many good things? You took the trouble to get +born!” Then he looks back on the struggles that have filled his +life—his obscure birth, his education in chemistry, pharmacy, +surgery, all barely sufficing, because of his lack of high birth, to +give him the privilege of practicing veterinary medicine; his +venture in playwrighting, and his inevitable clash with the +censor; his turn to writing on state finance, and the resulting +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>prison term; another essay in literature, this time in journalism, +and another suppression; rejection as candidate for a government +job, since unfortunately he was fitted for the post; a turn +as gambler, when his noble patrons took most of his profits; +and his final return to his old trade as barber-surgeon.</p> + +<p>Scattered throughout the soliloquy are a train of epigrams +which delighted fashionable audiences in the old regime, and +were taken up throughout the country. Indeed, families would +come up to Paris chiefly to see the <cite>Marriage of Figaro</cite>, and +hear French wit at its best directed against a wicked government. +Here are a few of Beaumarchais’ most famous jibes: +“Not being able to degrade the human spirit, they get revenge +by mistreating it.” “Only little men fear little writings.” “For +the job an accountant was necessary; a dancer got it.” “To get +on in this world, <i lang="fr">savoir faire</i> is worth more than <i lang="fr">savoir</i>.” And, +of course, that bitter jibe at the Count’s attainments—“qu’avez-vous +fait pour tant de biens? <i lang="fr">vous vous êtes donné la peine de +naître.</i>” Here in this one speech are so many indications of the +coming revolution that, with the wisdom of after-the-fact that +comes so naturally to the historian, we can say the revolution +is already almost full-blown in Figaro. Including, of course, the +fact that, after a long vacillation, the censor <em>did not stop</em> Beaumarchais’ +play.</p> + +<p>The years just preceding the actual outbreak of revolution +witness a crescendo of protests against the tyranny of the government, +a hail of pamphlets, plays, addresses, an outburst of +activity on the part of interested pressure groups. Facing all +this, the government certainly does not live up to the reputation +its opponents seek to make for it. Its tyrannous attempts +at suppressing the rebellious opposition may perhaps fail because +that opposition is too strong, resourceful, and virtuous; +or its attempts may fail because they are carried out half-heartedly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>and inefficiently by governmental agents more than +half won over to the opposition. The fact remains that they do +fail.</p> + +<p>Even the period of the personal rule of Charles I which preceded +the English revolution was not altogether as quiet and +successful as it seemed on the surface to be. Many Puritan +divines escaped Laud’s attempt to drive them from the Established +Church, and the others found plenty of independent +pulpits and printing presses. Strafford might write in 1638 that +“the People are in great quietness and, if I be not much mistaken, +well-satisfied if not delighted with his Majesty’s gracious +government and protection”; but he was much mistaken. At +the very least these eleven years of personal government were +but the calm before the storm.</p> + +<p>In our other three societies we do not even find this deceptive +calm, but a steady growth of revolutionary agitation. In +America hardly a colony escaped some form of rioting in the +period between the Stamp Act and Lexington, and all of them +saw a steady growth of agitation through merchants’ committees, +correspondence committees, Sons of Liberty, and similar +groups. The French government in the 1780’s drew nearer and +nearer to bankruptcy, and with each expedient to avoid bankruptcy +brought nearer the calling of the Estates-General and +the signal for revolution. As for Russia, it was a society strikingly +conscious of the possibilities of revolution. Upper-class +Russians had for more than a generation been turning their +uneasiness into the smooth coin of conversation: “sitting upon +a volcano,” “after us the deluge,” “the storm is rising.” In 1905 +and 1906, under pressure of defeat by the Japanese, a kind of +dress rehearsal of the great revolution took place. The patriotic +enthusiasms of 1914 for a while stilled conspicuous preparation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>for revolution, but military defeat in 1915 and 1916 brought +back conditions that grew daily more and more like those of +1905.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_85"><em>II. The Events of the First Stages</em></h3> + +<p>The Russian revolution began more dramatically and definitely +with a single event—street riots in Petrograd in 1917—than +did any of our other revolutions. Yet even in Russia it +took four or five days for the revolutionists themselves to realize +that the confused milling around of Petrograd crowds might +bring about the fall of the Romanovs. History and patriotic +ritual have singled out dramatic episodes—the battles at Lexington +and Concord, the fall of the Bastille—as beginning revolutions. +But though contemporaries were aware of the dramatic +quality of such events, they were not always sure that they had +turned revolutionary agitation into revolution. The first steps +in revolution are by no means always dear to the revolutionists +themselves, and the transition from agitation to action is rarely +a sudden and definite thing.</p> + +<p>Charles I came to the throne in 1624, and almost immediately +found himself engaged with the House of Commons in a +struggle chiefly over taxes. Out of the conflict there emerged +the Petition of Right of 1628, in which the Commons forced +the King’s consent to a statement of definite limitations on the +royal power: Charles promised not to raise forced loans, not to +quarter soldiers on unwilling householders, not to permit officers +to exercise martial law in time of peace, not to send anyone +to prison without showing cause why he had done so. Emboldened +by this success, the Commons under the leadership +of the emotional Sir John Eliot went on to refuse to grant the +King the usual form of customs’ revenue—tonnage and poundage—and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>to insist in an aggressive and indeed revolutionary way +on their privileges. At a final debate on March 2, 1629, two +men, Denzil Holles and Valentine, held down the Speaker in +his chair by force while Eliot proposed a ringing declaration +on the illegality of paying tonnage and poundage without a +grant from Parliament. Conservatives pushed forward to free +the Speaker. There followed a riotous debate fully worthy of +the standards set later by the National Assembly in France, but +somehow or other in the confusion Eliot’s resolutions were put +through before the royal order dissolving the Parliament could +be carried out. The parliamentarians had made a grand gesture +of protest. From that day, no Parliament met in England for +eleven years. Eliot, jailed for rioting, maintained that the King +had no power over a member of the House of Commons. He +died a most effective martyr in 1632.</p> + +<p>In the years of personal rule Charles, aided by his two great +supporters, Strafford and Laud, did his best to organize the +government of England in accordance with notions of efficient +centralization and expert rule which were the chief political +heritage of the Renaissance. He did a job in some ways surprisingly +good. But he may, as nineteenth-century liberal historians +fondly believed, have been going against the basic grain +of the English character and the basic mold of English institutions; +he was most certainly going bankrupt. A clash with the +Scotch Presbyterians probably merely hastened the inevitable. +Charles called a Parliament in the spring of 1640, but dissolved +it after less than a month. A Scotch army now invaded England, +and Charles had to buy it off. To get money he had to +call another Parliament. The Short Parliament was, therefore, +but a breaking of the ground for the Long Parliament, which +met on November 3, 1640, was dissolved on April 20, 1653, and +was brought briefly to life again in 1659, just before the restoration +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>of the Stuarts. The life of this extraordinary assembly thus +spans almost completely the twenty years of the English revolution.</p> + +<p>The Long Parliament got to work at once, for on November +11, 1640, a week after it first met, Pym moved the impeachment +of Strafford for high treason. The impeachment, held up +by the more conservative House of Lords, was turned early in +1641 into a bill of attainder. Impeachment involved at least +the forms of judicial action, whereas attainder was a simple legislative +act. The Lords were willing enough to abandon Strafford, +if not to try him, and on May 12th he fell under the +executioner’s ax. Less than eight years later that ax was to reach +his royal master.</p> + +<p>Actual outbreak of armed hostilities between Charles and the +Parliament was not to come for another year. Parliament voted +by a majority of eleven the Grand Remonstrance, a long +summing-up of all the grievances accumulated against the King +in the seventeen years of his reign. Charles replied to this vote +of want of confidence by attempting to arrest six members of +Parliament, Lord Kimbolton in the Lords, Pym, Hampden, +Haselrig, Holles, and Strode in the Commons, who had compromised +themselves by entering into technically treasonous +negotiations with the invading Scotch army. Charles rashly +came down to the House of Commons himself with armed +men and attempted to seize the members. He was met with +something of the kind of passive resistance the French Third +Estate displayed at the royal session of June 17, 1789, when +Louis XVI ordered them to give up attempting to form a National +Assembly. The threatened members fled to the City of +London, and Charles was again checkmated. The Commons +were now so aggressively successful that they decided to take +over the military by naming officers in the militia and train-bands. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>Charles, in turn, began to build up his own army, and +set up his standard at Nottingham in August, 1642. The Civil +War had begun.</p> + +<p>Where in this long and closely knit series of events you wish +to say the English revolution fairly began is partly a subjective +matter. Somewhere between the calling of the Long Parliament +in 1640, and the outbreak of the war two years later, the first +critical steps in the revolution were undertaken. Perhaps the +execution of Strafford is a good dramatic date, or Charles’s +futile attempt to seize the five members in the Commons. At +any rate, by the summer of 1642 the English revolution had +taken on unmistakable form.</p> + +<p>Events in America moved hardly more rapidly. In a sense, +you can maintain that the American revolution really began in +1765 with the Stamp Act; or at any rate that the agitation +which culminated in the repeal of that Act was a kind of rehearsal +for the great movement of the seventies. The imperial +government was determined to do something about the American +colonists, and Townshend’s mild duties on tea, glass, lead +and a few other articles imported into America were accompanied +by an attempt to collect them in an efficient modern +way. Under Townshend’s act His Majesty’s customs houses in +America were equipped with a hopeful and willing bureaucracy. +The result was a series of clashes with increasingly well-organized +groups of Americans. Tarring and feathering of informers, +stealing sequestered goods from under the noses of +customs officers, jeering at British troops, led up to the more +dramatic incidents enshrined in the textbooks: the seizure of +the <em>Gaspee</em> at Providence, the Boston Massacre of 1770, the +Boston Tea Party, the burning of the <em>Peggy Stewart</em> at Annapolis.</p> + +<p>The closing of the port of Boston, the dispatch of Gage and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>his troops to Massachusetts, the Quebec Act itself, were all +really measures taken by the imperial government against colonies +already in revolt. You may, if you are interested in such +matters, discuss at length the question as to just when the +American revolution is to be considered as formally beginning. +You may go as late as the first Continental Congress in 1774, +or the battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775, or even the +most famous Fourth of July in 1776. But the complex group-struggles +out of which revolutions actually grow only later turn +into formal sources for patriotic ritual. The first steps in the +American revolution were many and spread over something like +a decade. Only an absolutist mind could insist that out of this +long process a given detail be isolated as the beginning of the +American revolution.</p> + +<p>The French revolution of 1789 may be said to have been +incubating for several decades. Overt and definite resistance to +the royal government, as in the parliaments of Charles I and +in the American colonial assemblies, is not to be found in +France, which was wholly without such representative bodies. +The nearest thing to such a body was the <i lang="fr">parlement de Paris</i>, +a kind of supreme court composed of judges who were nobles +and held their positions by heredity. It was precisely this <i lang="fr">parlement</i>, +followed by the provincial <i lang="fr">parlements</i>, that began in the +1780’s an open quarrel with the Crown, which culminated in +a dramatic defiance of royal power and the forced exile of the +judges. Popular opinion, at least in Paris, was overwhelmingly +with the judges, and privileged nobles though they were, they +became heroes and martyrs for a day.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, approaching bankruptcy had forced the King to +call in 1787 an Assembly of Notables, a kind of hastily gathered +special commission of prominent nobles, from whom Louis XVI +in good eighteenth-century style no doubt expected enlightenment. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>This he certainly obtained, for the Assembly contained +many upper-class intellectuals, like Lafayette, who were convinced +that France must cease to be a “despotism,” must endow +itself with an up-to-date constitution of the kind the new states +of the American union were making fashionable. The Assembly +of Notables was accordingly very divided and doubtful about +ways of filling the empty treasury, but clear that further consultation +with the nation was necessary. The Crown finally +yielded, brought back into the government the Swiss commoner, +Necker, who had a reputation as a financial wizard, +and summoned a meeting of the Estates-General for the spring +of 1789.</p> + +<p>This Estates-General had last met in 1614, and there was +some uncertainty as to how one went about electing it. The +antiquarians came to the rescue, however, and three hundred +representatives of the First Estate, or clergy, three hundred of +the Second, or nobility, and six hundred of the Third, or commons, +were chosen, practically in time for the first meeting. +The double representation of the Third Estate had no precedent +in 1614 or earlier. It was, in fact, a revolutionary step, a +concession wrung from the King, an admission that in some +way or another the Third Estate was more important than the +others. In the old constitution, however, final decisions were +made by the orders as units; that is, if the Clergy and the Nobles +as separate houses agreed on a policy, they could carry it, +two to one, even against the dissenting Third Estate. When the +Estates met in May, 1789, the great question was whether to +follow the old constitution and vote by orders, or to vote in one +great assembly of twelve hundred members in which the doubled +Third Estate, plus the “liberals” among the other two +orders, would have a clear majority. Louis had characteristically +permitted this problem to remain vague and unsettled, and only +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>after the Third Estate had insisted on one great assembly did +he royally insist on three separate ones.</p> + +<p>The issue out of which the French revolution formally grew +was this simple one of vote by orders or vote by individuals in +one assembly. The Third Estate stood pat, and refused to +transact any business until the other orders joined it in what +was to be called—and the name was a sound piece of propaganda +for the revolutionists—the National Assembly. There are +certain dramatic moments in a two-months’ struggle which was +essentially parliamentary and lacking in the more physical kinds +of violence. Shut out by a royal blunder from their usual meeting +place, the Third Estate on June 20, 1789, met hastily in a +large indoor tennis court, and swore not to disperse until they +had endowed France with a constitution.</p> + +<p>Thanks partly to David’s famous painting, which is more +symbolic than realistic, this episode is now second only to the +taking of the Bastille in the patriotic ritual of the present Third +French Republic. Actually more important was the glowering +defiance of the Third Estate when in a plenary royal session of +June 23rd the King called on all the prestige and pageantry of +the Crown to enforce voting by separate orders. At this session +the Third Estate remained behind after the King’s withdrawal, +and Mirabeau is said to have made his famous reply to a request +from the King’s Grand Master of Ceremonies that they in turn +withdraw: “We are assembled here by the will of the nation, +and we will not leave except by force.” Shortly afterwards the +King yielded, though probably not to Mirabeau’s rhetoric. By +the beginning of July the National Assembly had been duly +constituted, and was ready to put the Enlightenment, so long +in France a matter of theory, into practice. The first steps in +the French revolution had been taken.</p> + +<p>Those who insist that you must have violence before you can +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>label revolution as begun will date the great French revolution +from July 14, 1789, when a Paris mob, aided by soldiers who +had gone over to the popular side, took the gloomy fortress-prison +of the Bastille on the eastern edge of the city. Bastille +Day is the French republican Fourth of July, a great holy day +in one of the best organized of our contemporary nationalist +religions. As such it has been surrounded by legends, endowed +with a martyrology, safely withdrawn from the unedifying touch +of history. To an outsider, the taking of the Bastille seems an +involved and confusing process, at least as much the result of +the weakness of the royal governor, De Launay, as of the +strength of the besiegers. What is important for us is that Paris +was in the hands of a mob for three days, and that this mob +was clearly shouting against the King, shouting for the National +Assembly. After the rioting had died down, the National +Assembly—or rather, the revolutionary majority in the Assembly—could +proceed in the useful assurance that the people were +on its side, could feel that it had <i lang="fr">carte blanche</i> to neglect royal +protests as it went about its task of remaking France.</p> + +<p>The revolution in Russia got under way with great speed. As +we have seen in a previous chapter, there were plenty of +precedents for a Russian uprising, and several generations of +Russians had been discussing the inevitable coming of the +storm. The first steps which led up to the February revolution +of 1917, however, took even advanced leaders like Kerensky +somewhat by surprise. Socialist parties the world over had been +used to celebrating March 8th as Women’s Day. On that day—February +23rd of the old Russian calendar, whence the name, +February revolution, by which it has gone down in history—crowds +of women workers from the factory districts poured into +the streets calling for bread. Each day thereafter crowds increased. +Orators of the radical group harangued at street corners. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>Soldiers from the large Petrograd wartime garrison mingled +with the crowds, seemed indeed to sympathize with them. +Even the Cossacks were not hostile to the people, or at any +rate, seemed to lack stomach for fighting.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the authorities were consulting, and as piecemeal +measures failed to work, they decided on March 11th to repress +the troubles in accordance with a fine neat plan already drawn +up on paper for just such emergency. But the plan didn’t work. +The soldiers of the garrison, anxious not to be sent to the front, +began to waver. On March 12th the first of the mutinies broke +out, and one after another the famous regiments of the Imperial +Army poured out of the barracks, but to join, not to shoot on, +the crowds. Obscure leaders, sergeants, factory foremen and the +like arose and directed their little groups at strategic points. +Out of all the confusion and madness which makes the detailed +record of events in this week the despair of the historian, one +clear fact came out. There was no imperial government left in +the capital, no formal government at all. Gradually there +emerged the nucleus of the Soviet government to come, organized +through trade unions, Socialist groups, and other working-class +sources. The Czar and his advisers, too bewildered and +incompetent to control the movement, did prevent the legal +Duma from taking control. Instead, moderates of all sorts got +together to form the nucleus of the provisional government to +come. In such a chaotic condition, indeed, it would seem that +the action of the moderates is a uniformity of revolutions. +Their sentiments and training impel them to try and put a +stop to disorder, to salvage what they can of established routines.</p> + +<p>Socialists and liberals alike were agreed that the Czar must +abdicate. Nicholas himself had started from Headquarters for +his palace at Tsarskoe Selo near Petrograd, but was held up at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>Pskov by the increasing disorders. Here, on March 15th, he +decided to abdicate in favor of his brother, the Grand Duke +Michael. What centralized power there was in Russia seems to +have been in the hands of a committee of the Duma, and this +committee waited on Michael in person. Kerensky, who was on +the committee, seems at this juncture to have been as neurotically +dramatic as usual; at Michael’s refusal to accept the +Crown he went into a transport of delight. Russia was to be +a republic. Michael’s own decision to refuse seems to have been +dictated by personal cowardice. One of the nice problems of +history in the conditional centers around the question of what +would have happened had this Romanov been a man of +courage, decision, and ability. No one can say, but the question +reminds us that even in its most sociological moments, history +cannot neglect the drama of personality and chance.</p> + +<p>With Michael’s abdication on March 16, 1917, the Russian +revolution had clearly begun. There were repercussions in the +provinces, and in some remote spots the fall of the Romanovs +was not realized for weeks. But the work of those eight days +had destroyed a centralized bureaucratic government at its +most vital point—its head and nerve-center. Much in Russia +was unchanged by the February revolution, but politically a +week had done what it had taken years to do in England and +France. The Romanovs had gone much more rapidly than the +Stuarts and the Bourbons.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_94"><em>III. Spontaneity or Planning?</em></h3> + +<p>Even from the foregoing sketch of the first steps in four +revolutions, it should be clear that to the narrative historian +the differences in the four are striking. The English revolution +was begun in one of the oldest, best established of representative +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>bodies; the American revolution began chiefly in New +England, among people used to town meetings and colonial +legislatures; the French revolution developed out of the meetings +of a legislative body with no immediate precedents, staffed +by men unused to parliamentary life; the Russian revolution +started in street riots in the capital city, and went on without +benefit of any parliamentary body, since even the old Duma +met only through an emergency committee. There are differences +of personality, differences of time and place. Charles raising +his standard in hope at Nottingham in 1642 seems worlds +apart from the abject Nicholas, buffeted about the northern +plains in a railroad train at the mercy of striking workers and +troops in revolt, drearily abdicating in the provincial gloom of +Pskov. There may even be racial differences. The orderly and +almost chivalrous Civil War of the English seems at first sight +something quite unlike the madness of July 14th, or the tragicomic +spectacle of metropolitan Petrograd in the hands of a +mob without even a good slogan.</p> + +<p>Yet this last should give us pause. At the informal level of +mere dramatic or narrative likenesses, these early stages of revolution +have similarities as striking as their differences. Speaker +Lenthall defying Charles come to seize the five members, Mirabeau +thundering his challenge to the bewildered Grand Master +of Ceremonies at the royal session of June 23rd, Patrick Henry +warning a king of the unfortunate fate of certain other rulers—these +seem to be speaking the same language, assuming the +same effective postures. The English House of Commons in +the pandemonium of its final session in 1629 seems much like +the French National Assembly during its frequent heated moments, +and not worlds apart from certain important sessions of +the Petrograd soviet.</p> + +<p>For the emotions of men in groups, and the rhetoric and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>gestures necessary to bring out and make effective for action +these emotions, are more uniform than the rationalist likes to +think them. Any representative body of several hundred responds +in definite ways to certain definite stimuli, and it does +this the more certainly and invariably because it cannot respond +to logic, cannot confront a new situation with complete experimental +freedom. Especially are excited representative bodies +much alike, whether they are composed of “irresponsible” Russians, +“excitable” Frenchmen, or “sensible” Englishmen. We +need not be surprised if in these early stages of revolution there +are clear parallels in the behavior of men in such groups.</p> + +<p>It is, however, more important for us to see whether there +are not in these four revolutions uniformities which can be +grouped together, related to the whole course of the movements, +given a place in our conceptual scheme of the fever. What evidence +have we here that we are dealing with a process which +has definite and common stages? Do these first steps in revolution +take place under conditions sociologically similar even if +dramatically dissimilar?</p> + +<p>One uniformity is crystal-clear. In all four of our societies, +the existing government attempted to collect monies from +people who refused to pay. All four of our revolutions started +among people who objected to certain taxes, who organized to +protest them, and who finally reached the point of agitating +for the elimination and replacement of the existing government. +This does not necessarily mean that those who resisted taxation +foresaw or wished a radical revolution. It does mean that the +transition from talking about necessary great changes—for in all +our societies, as we have seen, something was in the air—to +concrete action, was made under the stimulus of an unpopular +form of taxation.</p> + +<p>A second uniformity is quite as clear, though the consequences +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>that derive from it are much more obscure. The events +in this stage, these first steps in revolution, do most certainly +bring out of the confused discontents of the old regime two +parties into clear opposition, and indeed into preliminary violence. +These parties we may call briefly the party of the old +regime and the party of the revolution. Moreover, by the end +of this period of the first stages, the party of the revolution has +won. The muddy waters of doubt and debate are momentarily +cleared. The revolution, hardly begun, seems over. In England +after the Long Parliament had disposed of Strafford and wrung +concessions from the King, in America after Concord, and that +greatest of moral victories, Bunker Hill, in France after the fall +of the Bastille, in Russia after the abdication, there is a brief +period of joy and hope, the illusory but charming honeymoon +of that impossible pair, the Real and the Ideal.</p> + +<p>That our four revolutions ran through some such early stage +as this, in which the opposition between old and new crystallized +dramatically, and the new won a striking victory, is too +evident for the most old-fashioned narrative historian to deny. +Over the reasons why this stage developed as it did, however, +there is still a running dispute among writers who concern +themselves with such matters—historians, political theorists, +sociologists, essayists. The heart of the dispute is a matter which +must be got straight before anything like a sociology of revolutions +is possible. Briefly, one set of disputants maintains that +these glorious first steps in revolution are taken almost spontaneously +by a united nation rising in its might and virtue to +check its oppressors; another maintains that these first steps are +the fruition of a series of interlocking plots initiated by small +but determined groups of malcontents. By and large the first +view is that taken by persons favorable to a given revolution, +the second by persons hostile to it, or at least loyal to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>memory of the old regime. There are, however, all sorts of +variations on the theme, and different commentators have differently +balanced these elements of spontaneity and planning.</p> + +<p>This opposition is clearest, and in some ways quite adequately +typical for our purpose, in the historiography of the French +revolution. Augustin Cochin used to describe this opposition as +that between the <i lang="fr">thèse des circonstances</i> and the <i lang="fr">thèse du complot</i>, +the explanation by circumstances and the explanation by +plot. Those who on the whole regarded the revolution as a +good thing maintained that the people of France, and especially +the people of Paris, were goaded into revolt by the oppression +of king and court, that the circumstances of their social, political, +and economic life in 1789 are in themselves adequate +explanation of what happened. Given such circumstances, and +men and women of French blood, and you have revolution as +naturally, as <em>automatically</em>, in a sense, as you have an explosion +when a spark strikes gunpowder.</p> + +<p>This figure may be applied to specific steps in the revolutionary +process. The Bastille riots, for instance, were not planned +in any sense. Paris heard of the dismissal of Necker, noted that +the King was concentrating troops around Paris, and in a million +forgotten conversations spread the fear that the King and +his party were about to dismiss the revolutionary National Assembly +and rule by armed force. Paris therefore rose in its +might, and with a sure instinct seized on the Bastille as a +symbol of the hated old regime, and destroyed it. The sovereign +people were self-guided in all this, moved if you like by a +natural force, by a hatred of injustice, and were led by hundreds +of small men, by noncommissioned officers of the revolution, +but not by any general staff, not by any small group who +had deliberately planned an aggression.</p> + +<p>The opposite theory maintains that the whole revolutionary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>movement in France was the work of a scheming and unprincipled +minority, freemasons, <i lang="fr">philosophes</i>, professional agitators. +These people in the second half of the eighteenth century got +control of the press and the platform, and persistently indoctrinated +the literate part of France with a hatred for established +institutions, and especially for the Church. As the government +found itself in increasingly bad financial straits, these plotters +wormed their way into its councils, and finally secured the +promise of an Estates-General. By clever electioneering in a +populace not used to representative assemblies, they filled the +Third Estate with members of their sect, and succeeded in +penetrating even the ranks of the First and Second Estates. +They had been used to working together, and thanks to years +of discussion of political reform, they knew what they wanted. +The more determined and initiated of these plotters could +therefore control the actions of the large and shapeless National +Assembly, though they were a minority of its twelve hundred +members.</p> + +<p>Bastille Day seems very different to the writers of this school. +Louis was concentrating troops to protect, not to dissolve, the +National Assembly, to protect it from the minority of wild +radicals who were abusing its machinery. Fearing defeat, these +radicals stirred up Paris in a hundred ways: they sent orators +to street corners and cafés; they distributed radical news-sheets +and pamphlets; they sent agents to spread discontent among +the royal troops, and especially among the French Guard; they +even subsidized prostitutes to get at the soldiers more effectively. +Everything was planned ahead for a more propitious +moment, and when the dismissal of Necker afforded that moment, +the signal was given and Paris rose. But not spontaneously. +Somewhere a general staff—Mirabeau was on it, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>most of the popular figures in the National Assembly—was +working, carefully sowing the seeds of rebellion.</p> + +<p>With the appropriate changes, this sort of opposition can be +made out in all our revolutions. To the Stuart partisans—and +they still find their way into print—the Great Rebellion was +an unhappily successful conspiracy of gloomy money-grubbing +Calvinists against the Merrie England of tradition. More commonly, +since the Whigs gave the tone to modern England, the +Parliamentarians are seen as liberty-loving children of Magna +Charta, who rose quite naturally and spontaneously against unbearable +Stuart tyranny. American Loyalists always maintained +that the best of the country was with them, that the Whigs +had won by superior organization and chicanery. Most of us, +of course, were brought up to regard George III as a personal +tyrant, a hirer of Hessians, a man who wished to grind the +Americans into unmanly submission. The American revolution +was to us the spontaneous reply of injured freemen to British +insolence.</p> + +<p>Finally, some Russian <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> still seem to believe that a +minority of unscrupulous Bolsheviks somehow engineered both +the February and the October revolutions. Marxism attaches no +shame to revolution, and admits the importance of planning +and leadership in revolutionary movements. Therefore, though +official Communist explanations by no means soft-pedal Czarist +guilt and oppression, though they insist that the people of +Russia in February, 1917, wholeheartedly and nearly unanimously +rose against the Czar, still they admit, and indeed glory +in, the role of leaders consciously planning a revolution. At +least, this was the explanation accepted in orthodox Marxist +circles, and it is classically stated in the first volume of Trotsky’s +<cite>History of the Russian Revolution</cite>. There are signs in Stalinite +Russia of a reversion to something analogous to an American +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>schoolbook explanation of our own revolution; Czarist tyranny +and the spontaneous popular uprising are emphasized, the tactics +of a revolutionary minority minimized.</p> + +<p>Indeed, that these two conflicting, and in their exaggerated +forms antithetical, explanations of the first steps in revolution +should arise is in itself a clear uniformity to be got from the +comparative study of revolutions. Very early indeed these two +interpretations arise, the victorious revolutionists attributing +their success to the rise of the many against intolerable tyranny, +the defeated supporters of the old regime attributing their +failure to the unscrupulous tactics of a minority of clever, +wicked men. Neither explanation is interested primarily in +facts or the scientific interpretation of facts; both are aimed at +satisfying human sentiments. It is interesting to note that even +the revolutionists’ explanation seeks to gloss over violence, +seems in a way ashamed of the fact of revolution. This again +is perfectly natural, since once in power the revolutionists wish +to stay in power. A useful help to this end is a general feeling +among the governed that it is wrong to resist those in authority. +By and large, successful revolutionists do not often subscribe +to Jefferson’s desire to see a revolution every twenty years or +so; rather, they endeavor to create a myth of their own revolution, +which becomes the last one necessary. Marxist theory +even anticipates this, since the proletarian revolution ushers in +the classless society, where there will be no class struggle, and +no need for revolution.</p> + +<p>It is, however, possible for us to go further than simply noting +this division of opinion among the lovers and the haters of +a given revolution. We may venture the generalization that +there is some truth in both the explanation by circumstances +and the explanation by plot. This may seem to many in 1938 +a characteristically liberal and wishy-washy solution, a stupid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>adhesion to an outdated notion of a golden mean. But it does +seem to have a more satisfactory relation with the facts than +either extreme explanation.</p> + +<p>Bastille Day may again serve as an example. There is plenty +of evidence that organized groups did help stir up trouble in +Paris in those July days. We know that the radical groups, the +“patriots” in the Assembly at Versailles, had close connections +with Paris politicians. A kind of skeletal political organization +had been left over from the Paris elections to the Third Estate, +and these Parisian electors helped greatly to bring a new +municipal organization, and a new National Guard, out of the +confusion of the riots. Most of the Royalist description of +agents circulating in the crowds, of inflammatory pamphleteering, +even perhaps of subsidized prostitutes, is substantially +true. What is not true is that these elements of planning can +be traced to any one or two small plotting groups, to the +Duc d’Orléans, or to a few freemasons. The word “plot” is indeed +a bad one—except for the purposes of Rightist propaganda, +where it proves very useful indeed. Rather we must say +that there is evidence of the activities of a number of groups of +the kind any careful observer of societies knows well—pressure +groups, embryo political parties, semi-religious sects, gatherings +on the lunatic fringe. There is, however, no evidence that these +very dissimilar groups were in July, 1789, managed from any one +center, controlled by a small scheming directorate.</p> + +<p>On the contrary, there is every evidence that once the dismissal +of Necker got these various groups excited, what followed +was in a sense spontaneous mob action. No one has yet +said the final word on the psychology of crowds, but it is fairly +well accepted that the behavior of crowds cannot be completely +gauged in advance by the cleverest of mob leaders. Actually it +is clear that in Paris in those days there was not one mob, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>at least several dozens. People came out in the street because +their neighbors were already out. They paraded up and down, +shouting and singing, stopping now and then for another drink, +or to hear another street-corner orator. Self-constituted leaders +of little groups certainly supplemented any planned action. The +decision to march on the Bastille seems to have been taken +independently in several quarters. No one knows for sure who +first had the brilliant idea of going to the Invalides Hospital to +secure small arms. The rioting seems to have died out less because +the Bastille fell than because the rioters were tired out. +Three days is a long time to be riotous, or drunk, or both.</p> + +<p>What holds for the taking of the Bastille holds for the general +preparatory work and the first stages of revolutions as we +have discussed them in this chapter. The Russian February +revolution centered in Petrograd in one week and seems like +the Bastille riots on a larger scale. Trotsky has done some of +his best writing in his description of the February revolution +and in his balanced accounting of what must be considered +spontaneous popular risings and what must be attributed to +conscious revolutionary tactics. Kerensky writes flatly that the +revolution “came of its own accord, unengineered by anyone, +born in the chaos of the collapse of Tsardom.” Trotsky admits +that no one planned or expected the revolution when it did +come, that it developed out of ordinary Socialist manifestations +and a mild bread-riot. But that development, he adds, was led +by “conscious and tempered workers, educated for the most part +by the party of Lenin.” We may question the last part of this +statement, but there can be no doubt that in the last few days +of the Petrograd riots leaders of the coming soviet and leaders +of the coming provisional government combined to force out +the Czarist government.</p> + +<p>The role of the pressure group is especially conspicuous in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>the early stages of the American revolution. As early as April, +1763, the merchants of Boston organized a “Society for Encouraging +Trade and Commerce with the Province of Massachusetts +Bay” with a standing committee of fifteen to watch +trade affairs and call meetings. Accounts of their activities were +sent to merchants in other colonies. To combat the Stamp Act +the radicals organized themselves as “Sons of Liberty,” a mass +organization which met at times openly, at times secretly, to +promote the work of revolution. Their vigilance committees +“maintained a sort of Holy Inquisition with the sales and purchases +of every man of business, into the outgoings and incomings +of private households, and with the reported opinions of +individuals.” Town and county in the North, the county in the +South, provided a framework for public meetings and resolutions. +The Committees of Correspondence, organized originally +as private pressure groups, were later skillfully manipulated by +Sam Adams until they had partly supplanted the more conservative +town meetings. Adams called into meeting in 1773 +a joint committee for Boston, Dorchester, Roxbury, Brookline, +and Cambridge which was able to swamp the now fairly conservative +merchant vote. Throughout the movement, violence +was employed whenever it seemed necessary, from grand affairs +like the Boston Tea Party to isolated beating of Tories.</p> + +<p>Yet the most realistic of our modern historians will hardly +go so far as to assert that the American revolution was plotted +by a tiny minority. The net effect of a dozen years of British +mistakes, of concessions and retractions, blowings-hot and +blowings-cold, together with a great variety of American agitation, +was to produce in 1775 a widespread popular backing for +the Continental Congress in its resistance to George III. It is +quite impossible to say how many Whigs, how many Tories, +and how many indifferent or neutral persons there were in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>thirteen colonies at the outbreak of armed hostilities. Probably +there were proportionately more Tories than there were extreme +Royalists in France in 1789 and many more than there were +Czarists in Russia in 1917; and there were probably fewer +Tories in revolutionary America than partisans of the Stuarts in +England in 1642. But in all these cases it is a matter of proportion. +The American revolution was, like the others, in part the +result of an active, able, and far from infinitesimal minority +working on a large majority group with grievances enough to +be stirred up effectively when the right time came.</p> + +<p>To sum the matter up in a metaphor: the school of circumstances +regards revolutions as a wild and natural growth, its +seeds sown among tyranny and corruption, its development +wholly determined by forces outside itself or at any rate outside +human planning; the school of plot regards revolutions as +a forced and artificial growth, its seeds carefully planted in soil +worked over and fertilized by the gardener-revolutionists, mysteriously +brought to maturity by these same gardeners against +the forces of nature. Actually, we must reject both extremes, +for they are nonsense, and hold that revolutions do grow from +seeds sown by men who want change, and that these men do +do a lot of skillful gardening; but that the gardeners are not +working against Nature, but rather in soil and in a climate propitious +to their work; and that the final fruits represent a collaboration +between men and Nature.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_105"><em>IV. The Role of Force</em></h3> + +<p>A final uniformity to be discerned in these first stages of our +revolutions is perhaps the clearest and most important of all. +In each revolution there is a point, or several points, where +constituted authority is challenged by the illegal acts of revolutionists. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>In such instances, the routine response of any authority +is to have recourse to force, police or military. Our authorities +made such a response, <em>but in each case with a striking lack of +success</em>. Those of the ruling class responsible for such responses +in all our societies proved signally unable to make adequate +use of force. Let us first look at the facts.</p> + +<p>In England there was no considerable standing army, and of +course nothing like a modern police force. Indeed, the question +of control over what standing army there was had been one of +the big issues between the first two Stuarts and their Parliaments. +The Crown had been obliged to quarter its soldiers on +private citizens in order to keep any kind of army together, and +this quartering was one of the grievances most strongly held +against Charles I. When a Scotch army crossed the border, +Charles was obliged to call the Long Parliament to get money +to buy this armed force off. When the actual break between +Royalists and Parliamentarians drew near, both sides tried to +constitute an armed force. Charles had the benefit of a devoted +noble officer-class, and enough tenant-followers of noblemen +and gentry to constitute what was by far the strongest armed +force controlled by the government, or conservatives, or party-in-power +side in any of our four revolutions. Yet the Civil War +proved that he didn’t have enough good soldiers, in comparison +with the human resources available to the Parliament. Charles +was beaten in the first instance because he lacked decisive military +power.</p> + +<p>Similarly in the American revolution, neither the American +Tories nor the British armies were quite strong enough, as in +the actual event they used their armed strength to suppress the +revolutionists. Notably in the earlier stages, the British undertook +to introduce what they knew to be unpopular governmental +changes with what now seems an amazing disregard of police +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>necessities. No doubt the long tradition of British loyal self-government +made it hard for a British colonial administrator to +conceive of any other methods. But the fact remains that these +forces in North America in 1775 were quite inadequate to +enforce authority. How many more men than Gage actually +did have would have been necessary to keep royal order in +Massachusetts Bay is a matter of guesswork, of perhaps unprofitable +history-in-the-conditional. It is, however, unduly complimentary +to rugged Yankee love of independence to suppose +that no armed force could have been large enough to have controlled +Massachusetts. Had there been a Napoleon instead of +a Gage, there would perhaps have been a different end to the +fighting. Whether such a policy of repression would not ultimately +have produced a successful revolution anyway is a matter +we are not called upon to discuss. What does concern us is +the simple fact that in America also an important initial failure +of the government was its failure to use force adequately and +skillfully.</p> + +<p>Louis XVI had in 1789 a fairly trustworthy armed force. His +French troops were perhaps open to propaganda by the patriots. +But he had important household troops, mercenaries recruited +from foreign peoples, chiefly Swiss and German, and not accessible +to French agitators. That the Swiss would die for him, +or for their duty, was proved three years later at the storming of +the Tuileries. He had, especially in the artillery, a capable set +of officers, most of whom could be relied upon at this stage. +Yet at the decisive moment, the rioting in Paris in July, he and +his advisers failed to use the military. Again we edge into history-in-the-conditional, +but one cannot avoid wondering what +would have happened had a few disciplined troops with street +guns attempted the reduction of Paris in July, 1789. Napoleon +was later to show that such a force could readily beat down +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>civilian resistance, and this fact was to be amply confirmed in +1848 and 1871. Louis might have failed. But the point is that +he didn’t even try. Once again a government has failed to make +adequate use of force.</p> + +<p>Petrograd in 1917 is the most perfect example of this important +role of the military and the police. Everyone, from +Czarist to Trotskyite, admits that what turned somewhat chaotic +and aimless street demonstrations into a revolution was the +failure of the elaborate government plan to restore order in +Petrograd. And that plan failed because at the critical moment +the soldiers refused to march against the people, but regiment +by regiment came over instead to join them. Again, such is the +advantage which a disciplined force with modern artillery possesses +over even the most inspired civilian revolutionists, there +can be little doubt that if the Cossacks and a few of the famous +regiments of the line, the Preobrazhensky, for instance, had +been warmly loyal to the government, even the somewhat incompetent +rulers of Petrograd could probably have put down +the disturbance. Whether another and worse riot was not inevitable +within a few months under existing conditions of +failure in war is not a matter that concerns us here.</p> + +<p>This striking failure on the part of the rulers to use force +successfully is not, however, likely to be an isolated and chance +phenomenon. Indeed, it seems intimately bound up with that +general ineptness and failure of the ruling class we have noticed +in a previous chapter. Long years of decline have undermined +the discipline of the troops, bad treatment has given the private +soldiers a common cause with civilians, the officers have lost +faith in the conventional and stupid military virtues. There is +no co-ordinating command, no confidence, no desire for action. +Or if there are some of these things, they exist only in isolated +individuals, and are lost among the general incompetence, irresolution, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>and pessimism. The conservative cause—even the +cause of Charles I—seems a lost cause from the start. The +American case is somewhat different. Here we have an inept +<em>colonial</em> government, but not an inept native ruling class.</p> + +<p>We can then with some confidence attribute the failure of +the conservatives to use force skillfully to the decadence of a +ruling class. After all, we are dealing with fairly large groups of +the kind we are accustomed to treating as subjects for sociological +generalization. When, however, we attempt to bring +the four crowned heads of our societies under some such general +rule, we can hardly help feeling that we have no adequate +statistical basis. Yet Charles I, George III, Louis XVI, and +Nicholas II display such remarkable similarities that one hesitates +to call in chance as an explanation. Trotsky confidently +asserts that a decaying society will inevitably head up into the +kind of incompetence displayed by these monarchs. We dare +not display quite as much confidence, but we must bring forward +these uniformities in the behavior of four men as a valid +part of our observed uniformities. At any rate their being what +they were had an important part in that process through which +the revolutionists won their preliminary and decisive victories +over incompetent authority.</p> + +<p>At the very least, one can discern in all these monarchs mistakes +which point to their lack of a reasonably objective thing, +the technical skill necessary to rule men. If a baseball player +strikes out consistently over a long stretch of games, and fields +badly, it may be because of poor eyesight, or family troubles, +or a lot of other reasons, but the simple fact remains that he is +a poor ball-player. Our four kings were poor kings, though they +were all good family men, men on the whole whom we should +probably list as good, or at least as well-meaning. Nicholas +was petty and jealous, as well as ignorant and superstitious, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>by conventional Christian moral standards probably the worst +of the lot. But he was far from being a cruel tyrant. Louis was +kindly, well-meaning, but singularly unsuited to affairs of state. +Both men were deficient intellectually, were very much under +the domination of determined, passionate, proud, and ignorant +wives, and both have left diaries which display amazing parallels +in obtuseness. Louis went hunting on Bastille Day and in +his diary records “Nothing”; Nicholas in a similar crisis records +“Walked long and killed two crows; had tea by daylight.”</p> + +<p>We cannot here go into the fascinating subject of the personalities +of all these monarchs. George III was high-minded, +stupid, and stubborn, which is a very bad combination indeed +in a ruler. Charles is humanly the most attractive of the four; +there is a sound basis for the romantic legend woven around +him. But he was a bad king for a number of reasons, of which +the chief were perhaps first an almost complete inability to +understand what was going on in the hearts and heads of those +of his subjects commonly called Puritans—and this emphatically +includes the Scotch Calvinists—and, second, a tendency to +high-minded intrigue. In politics, high-mindedness and intrigue +are much safer if kept decently apart. This much, in +summary, we may conclude about our kings. However much +they differed as men, they were alike in being wholly unable +to make effective use of force, even had they possessed it, at +the first stages of the revolution.</p> + +<p>For our revolutions, then, we may put this last uniformity +very simply: they were successful in their first stages; they became +actual revolutions instead of mere discussions, complaints, +and riotings, only after revolutionists had beaten, or won over, +the armed forces of the government. We cannot attempt to +erect uniformities for other revolutions or for revolutions in +general. But we may here suggest in very tentative and hypothetical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>form the generalization that no government has ever +fallen before revolutionists until it has lost control over its +armed forces or lost the ability to use them effectively; and +conversely that no revolutionists have ever succeeded until +they have got a predominance of effective armed force on their +side.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_111"><em>V. The Honeymoon</em></h3> + +<p>The first stage of revolution ends in all four of our societies +with the victory of the revolutionists after what is rather +dramatic than serious bloodshed. The hated old regime has +been conquered so easily! The way is open to the regeneration +men have been so long talking about, so long hoping for. Even +the Russian February revolution, though it broke out in the +midst of the misery and shame of defeat at the hands of Germans +and Austrians, was cradled in the hope and joy that seems +a natural heritage of revolutions. Russians all over the world +heard the good news with delight. Liberals were as happy as +their ancestors had been in ’76 and ’89. Now Russia was +washed clean of the stain of absolutism, could take her place +with confidence in the ranks of her sister democracies of the +West, join with a new effectiveness in the crusade against the +sole remaining forces of darkness, the Hohenzollerns and the +Hapsburgs.</p> + +<p>The honeymoon stage of revolution is most perfectly developed +in France, where the revolution came in peacetime, +and at the end of a great intellectual movement called the +Enlightenment which had prepared men’s minds for a new and +practical miracle. Wordsworth’s lines are familiar:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“France standing on the top of golden hours,</div> + <div class="verse indent1">And human nature seeming born again.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span></p> +<p>But poets in a dozen languages set to work to celebrate the +regeneration of France and of mankind. And not only poets. +Sober business men, professional men, country gentlemen, people +who in the twentieth century tend to regard revolution +with horror, joined in the rejoicing. Far away in unenlightened +Russia noblemen illuminated their houses in honor of the fall +of the Bastille. Americans and Englishmen rejoiced that the +ancient enemy had come to join the self-governing peoples. +Frenchmen themselves were for a brief happy moment almost +unanimous. The King had seen the error of his ways, had embraced +the paladin Lafayette, had come freely to his good city +of Paris to hear the cheers of the heroes of the Bastille.</p> + +<p>Yet the honeymoon period even in France was brief, briefer +yet in Russia, in England and in America never quite so clear +and so definite. In the first stages, and at the critical moment +when the test of force comes, the old regime is faced by a +solid opposition. The opposition is indeed composed of various +groups, is never that myth a “united people.” But it is welded +by the necessity of effectively opposing the government into a +genuine political unit, into something more than a chance +coalition of contradictory elements. Its victory is, if we are +willing to take the terms critically and not sentimentally, the +victory of the “people” over its “oppressors.” It has shown itself +stronger and abler than the old government in this time of +crisis. It has now become the government, and is facing a new +set of problems. When it actually gets to work on those problems +the honeymoon is soon over.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_four"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">four</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">TYPES OF REVOLUTIONISTS</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_113"><em>I. The Clichés</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">It would clearly be helpful in our inquiry if we could at +this point isolate the revolutionist as a type. To pursue our +analogy of the fever, may it not be that certain individuals act +as “carriers,” and that they can be classified, labeled, described +in economic and sociological terms as well as in those of psychology +or common sense? This is at any rate a lead which +seems worth following.</p> + +<p>There are, however, several ways in which such a pursuit +might lead us astray. We must beware of regarding revolutionists, +and revolutionary leaders in particular, as literally bearing +disease germs of revolution. Here as throughout this study, +our conceptual scheme must never be allowed to lead us into +fantasy. It must be a convenience, not an obsession. We must +more than ever avoid using terms of praise or dispraise, which +lurk in every corner of this particular field. For the simple +word “revolutionist” is likely to call up in the minds of most +of us a relatively uncritical personification, the sort of loose +change of daily intercourse that serves us well enough to get +on with “poet” or “professor” or “Frenchman.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span></p> + +<p>Even the subtlest thinker, the most delicate and conscientious +artist in words, has to come down in daily life to something +very close to the clichés that serve the man in the street. +You and I, of course, do not picture poets as long-haired, delicate, +bohemian and tubercular, nor professors as impractical, +absent-minded, kindly and bearded, nor Frenchmen as polite, +dapper, wax-mustached, ladies’ men. But we cannot go into +Proustian intricacies with ourselves when we use such words, +nor can we use them as rigorously as a scientific systematist. +We get along with them as best we may, adjusting them +roughly to our experience and our sentiments.</p> + +<p>Now what “revolutionist” means at this level to various +persons and various groups is in itself an important element +in a full sociology of revolutions. What all sorts of people feel +about revolution is perhaps most easily studied in the clichés +which arise out of words like “revolutionist” and “revolutionary,” +or their more concrete parallels, “Jacobin,” “Bolshevik,” +“red,” and the like. We cannot attempt such a study here, but +we must look a bit further into a few of these clichés, if only +as a warning and a contrast.</p> + +<p>Probably for most Americans in the fourth decade of the +twentieth century the word “revolutionist” carries unpleasant +overtones. At the level of the Hearst papers or the Macfadden +publications, a revolutionist appears as a seedy, wild-eyed, unshaven, +loud-mouthed person, given to soapbox oratory and +plotting against the government, ready for, and yet afraid of, +violence. Even at slightly more sophisticated levels, one suspects +many of our countrymen feel much the same about +revolutionists, or at any rate are convinced that they are pronouncedly +queer people, failures under pre-revolutionary conditions, +sufferers from inferiority complexes, envious of their +betters, or just downright ornery, “agin the government” on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>principle and by disposition. Other and more favorable pictures +of the revolutionist no doubt arise in other minds. To +judge by some of our proletarian writers—not themselves proletarians—the +revolutionist is a sturdy, broad-shouldered steelworker, +uncorrupted by the falsities the bourgeois call education, +but well-versed in Marx and Lenin, strong, kindly, a warrior-spirit +with just a redeeming touch of Shelley about him.</p> + +<p>Now the social uses of beliefs of this sort are plain enough. +In an old bourgeois society like the United States, sentiments +hostile to revolutionists are probably important factors in maintaining +social stability. Revolutionists were all right in 1776, +but not in 1938. Any society that is a going concern must apparently +contain large numbers of people who feel this way +about revolutionists. Even in Russia, where memories of violent +revolution are still fresh, a concerted effort is being made +by the government to discredit living, flesh-and-blood revolutionists. +Revolution was all right in 1917, but not in 1938. On +the other side, it is clear that radicals and extremists who think +of revolutionists as fine fellows, as heroes and martyrs, are also +aiding in their own social discipline, strengthening themselves +for the fray.</p> + +<p>The social scientist, however, cannot let the matter rest here. +He must attempt an objective classification of revolutionists, +as complicated as his data about them makes necessary. We +can say with confidence that even a hasty review of the four +revolutions with which we are concerned is very far from +confirming either set of clichés we have outlined. And notably, +since the derogatory set is commoner in this country, such a +review by no means confirms the notion that our revolutionists +were seedy, loud-mouthed, bomb-throwing failures in the old +regimes. If we include, as we must, those who took the first +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>steps in revolution as well as those who ruled in the reign of +terror, our type becomes still less simple.</p> + +<p>Let us take a random list of names as they come to mind: +Hampden, Sir Harry Vane, John Milton, Sam Adams, John +Hancock, Washington, Thomas Paine, Lafayette, Marat, Talleyrand, +Hébert, Miliukov, Konavalov, Kerensky, Chicherin, +Lenin. All are revolutionists; all opposed constituted authority +with force of arms. The list includes great nobles, gentlemen, +merchants, journalists, a professor of history, a political boss, +a ward-heeler. It includes several very rich men and one or two +poor men. It includes many who would by conventional Christian +standards seem to have been good men; and it includes +several who would by such standards seem to have been very +wicked men. It includes some who were important people in +their pre-revolutionary days, some who were quite unknown, +and two, perhaps three, who were apparent failures in life until +the revolution gave them a chance to rise. Surely it is no easy +task to find a least common denominator for a list like this.</p> + +<p>No doubt we shall be aided by making a distinction between +the men who dominate in the early stages of a revolution—on +the whole the moderates—and those who dominate in the +crisis stage—on the whole the extremists. But it will not do to +say that only our extremists are real revolutionists. After all, +even George Washington seems to have taken an oath of +loyalty to the British Crown, and his breaking that oath would +have been treason had the American revolution failed. We have +been taught by Whig historians to believe that Essex and +Pym were defending the sacred laws of England, and that +therefore they weren’t real revolutionists. This was not, by any +means, the current opinion in Europe in the 1640’s, where the +Parliamentarians were regarded as shocking rebels against their +king; and monarchy was in seventeenth-century Europe as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>solidly rooted in the sentiments which give force to law as the +American Constitution seems rooted with us in this country +at the present time. No, we must list the moderates among our +revolutionists, even though they were defending the higher law +against the lower, and weren’t just nasty anarchists and rebels.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_117"><em>II. Economic and Social Position: Rank and File</em></h3> + +<p>One of the most useful approaches to the problem of the +personnel of revolutionary movements is from the relatively +objective indications of the economic and social status of those +who take part in the uprising. Now it is very difficult to find +out much about the rank and file of the revolutionists. Like the +private soldier in war, the ordinary revolutionist is inarticulate +and nameless. For the French revolution, however, some such +study is not impossible. In the surviving records of the Jacobin +Clubs, which served as centers of revolutionary action, and +resemble both the Russian soviets and the American corresponding +committees, we have a large number of lists of members—imperfect, +of course, but still lists. Some years ago the +present writer made a study of these lists, and, aided by tax-rolls +and other documents in French local archives, was able +to arrive at certain rough statistical generalizations about these +revolutionists. Some of these generalizations must be here +summarized from the author’s <cite>The Jacobins: A Study in the +New History</cite>.</p> + +<p>In general, it is possible to arrive at some statistical approximation +of the social and economic positions of these Jacobin +revolutionists in pre-revolutionary France. There are tax-rolls +extant for various years between 1785 and 1790, and on these +many of the Jacobins can be found, with the sums they were +assessed at. As these were direct taxes not too far out of proportion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>to income, it is possible thus to get a rough estimate of +Jacobin wealth. Occupations are usually given, and this is a +useful indication of social position. Finally, it is also possible +to study certain clubs at specific moments in the revolution, so +that a sample can be taken during the early or moderate period, +and another during the later rule of the extremists. Here, +briefly, are some of the results.</p> + +<p>For twelve clubs, with a total membership of 5,405 over +the whole course of the revolution, 1789-95, in both its moderate +and its violent phases: 62 per cent of the members +were middle class, 28 per cent working class, 10 per cent peasants. +For twelve clubs in the moderate period, 1789-92, with +a membership of 4,037: 66 per cent were middle class, 26 per +cent working class, 8 per cent peasants. For forty-two clubs in +the violent period, 1793-95, with a membership of 8,062: +57 per cent were middle class, 32 per cent working class, 11 +per cent peasants. The tax-rolls confirm what occupational and +social classification suggests. In eight clubs considered over the +whole period of revolution, club members paid an average tax +of 32.12 <i lang="fr">livres</i>, where the average tax for all male citizens of +the towns considered was 17.02 <i lang="fr">livres</i>; in twenty-six clubs considered +in the violent period only, club members paid 19.94 +<i lang="fr">livres</i>, male citizens 14.45 <i lang="fr">livres</i>. Thus, though there was certainly +a tendency for the clubs to be recruited in the violent +period from social strata a bit lower, on the whole one is forced +to the conclusion that “the Jacobin was neither a nobleman +nor a beggar, but almost anything in between. The Jacobins +represent a complete cross-section of their communities.”</p> + +<p>Other relatively objective indices help us a bit. It was often +possible to list the ages of members of the clubs during the +revolution. As far as the rank and file of these clubs went, the +notion that revolutionists are recruited from the young and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>irresponsible was not borne out. For ten clubs the average age +varied from 38.3 years to 45.4 years, and for all ten together +came to 41.8 years. These were clearly not foolhardy youngsters. +Nor were they footloose itinerants, shock troops imported from +revolutionary urban centers like Paris. Out of 2,949 members +of fifteen clubs, only 378, or 13 per cent, had moved into the +towns since the outbreak of trouble in 1789. The actual membership +of the clubs varied as the revolutionary movement +grew more and more extreme—or in modern terms, went more +and more to the Left. Many moderates emigrated or were +guillotined, many disreputable extremists, often though by no +means always from the lower classes, only “made” the clubs +later on. Yet in six clubs with a total membership from 1789 +to 1795 of 3,028, something over 31 per cent managed to stay +on the books for the whole period, to have been successively +good monarchists, good Girondists, good Montagnards. It is +not true that the personality of these clubs became dominantly +lower or working class after the fall of the monarchy in 1792, +nor even that their newer recruits were largely from the proletariat. +And it is quite clear that these people are not on the +whole failures in their earlier environment; rather they represent +the abler, more ambitious and successful of the inhabitants +of a given town. It is as if our Rotarians today were revolutionists.</p> + +<p>A similar statistical study could probably not be made for +the English revolution since lists corresponding to the Jacobin +membership lists are not available. The material certainly exists +for such a study of the actual membership of the soviets in, say, +the crucial year 1917, but it would have to be put together +from scattered sources available only in Russia. We know a +good deal about the membership of our own American revolutionary +groups, from merchants’ committees and corresponding +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>committees to continental congresses. Even for the English +revolution we have enough scattered material to permit some +generalizations about the personnel of the movement.</p> + +<p>In the early stages of the English revolution there can be +no doubt about the respectability and economic prosperity of +the men who backed Parliament. Baxter, somewhat exaggeratedly, +but with a kernel of truth, writes that when the Great +Rebellion broke out “it was the moderate Conformists and +Episcopal Protestants who had long been crying of Innovations, +Arminianism, Popery, Monopolies, illegal taxes and the +danger of arbitrary government, who raised the war.” The merchants +of London, Bristol and other towns, great lords, small +landowning gentry, all rose in sedition against their king. Even +in what we may call the extremist or crisis period of the English +revolution, which begins in 1646 or 1647 when the tension +between the New Model Army and the Presbyterians becomes +acute, your revolutionists are very far from riffraff. Even Baxter +reports of that army—which was to the English revolution +what the Jacobins were to the French and the Bolsheviks to +the Russian revolutions—that “abundance of the common +troopers and many of the officers I found to be honest, sober, +orthodox men, and others tractable, ready to hear the truth, +and of upright intentions.” An historian has estimated that +when the New Model “took the field in 1645, of its thirty-seven +chief officers, nine were of noble, twenty-one of gentle +birth, and only seven not gentlemen by birth.” The English +lower classes, or at least the more proletarian elements as opposed +to independent artisans, on the whole stood aloof from +the conflict. Even the wilder sectarians seem to have been +recruited from humble, but by no means poverty-stricken people, +men who had taught themselves to follow the theological +disputes, men on the whole representing the more active and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>ambitious of their class. The poorer peasants, especially in the +North and West, actually sided with the King and against the +revolutionists.</p> + +<p>In America we have already pointed out the well-known +fact that it was the merchants who first organized opposition +to the Crown. This opposition was echoed by many planters +in the southern coastal plain, and by many very respectable +yeoman farmers of the Piedmont. It is quite true that there +are numerous signs of the pretty active participation of what +a good conservative would regard as the dregs of the population. +The Boston Sons of Liberty, who performed most of the +actual work of violence there, were recruited from workingmen +and actually met habitually in the counting-room of a +distillery. The Tories, whom it is now more fashionable to +call Loyalists, naturally saw their opponents as a pretty shabby +lot. Hutchinson writes of the Boston town meeting that it +is “constituted of the lowest class of the people under the influence +of a few of the higher class, but of intemperate and +furious dispositions and of desperate fortunes. Men of property +and the best character have deserted these meetings, where +they are sure of being affronted.”</p> + +<p>Actually the line between Tory and Whig is a very irregular +one, depending on much besides economic status, as can be +seen from the late J. F. Jameson’s <cite>The American Revolution +Considered as a Social Movement</cite>. If the rich gentlemen of +“Tory Row” in Cambridge sided with the Crown, there were +plenty of sober, respectable farmers, merchants, and lawyers, +who turned revolutionist. Such men were likely to be shocked +at the doings of wild young apprentices in the Sons of Liberty, +but this did not necessarily turn them to the British side, +though it made them critical of the Congress. A good sign of +the respectability of revolution is the adhesion of the clergy, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>which save for the Episcopalians was in most colonies general. +As a disgruntled Tory put it, “The high sons of liberty include +the ministers of the gospel, who instead of preaching to their +flocks meekness, sobriety, attention to their different employments, +and a steady obedience to the laws of Britain, belch +from the pulpits liberty, independence, and a steady perseverance +in endeavoring to shake off their allegiance to the mother +country. The independent ministers have ever been ... the +instigators and abettors of every persecution and conspiracy.”</p> + +<p>To sum up we shall have to agree with Jameson that the +strength of the revolutionary movement in the long run lay +with the plain people—not with the mob or “rabble,” for +American society was rural and not urban—but with country +artisans, small farmers, and frontiersmen. But we shall also +have to agree with Alexander Graydon that “the opposition to +the claims of Britain originated with the better sort: it was +truly aristocratical in its commencement.”</p> + +<p>The February revolution in Russia seems to have been welcomed +by all classes save the most conservative of conservatives—a +few army officers, a few members of the Court and +the old nobility. No one knows who made the February revolution, +but there can be no doubt as to its popularity. Almost +everyone, liberal noble, banker, industrialist, lawyer, doctor, +civil servant, <i lang="ru">kulak</i>, and workingman, was glad to co-operate +in giving the Czarist regime its final blow. Even the Bolsheviks, +whose sudden victory in the October revolution of 1917 makes +the time-scheme of the Russian revolution so very different +from those of the English and French revolutions, were by no +means what confirmed haters of revolution call riffraff, rabble, +“the masses.” They seem to have been recruited chiefly from +the more enterprising, able, and skilled workingmen in the +factories of Petrograd, Moscow, and specialized industrial +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>centers like Ivanovo-Vosnessensk or the Don basin. Their most +important leaders were largely drawn from the middle class. +One might perhaps argue that the Kadets, led by Miliukov, +were so early discouraged that they may not be counted as a +revolutionary party. But the Mensheviks and S-R (Socialist-Revolutionary) +party, later scorned as “Compromisists” by +triumphant Bolshevik historians, are most certainly revolutionary +elements. The Mensheviks may have been mostly intellectuals, +but the S-R were also recruited from the prosperous +peasants, from the people who ran the co-operatives, from small +shopkeepers and the like.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_123"><em>III. Economic and Social Position: Leaders</em></h3> + +<p>Hitherto we have been considering the main bodies of the +revolutionists, and have found that on the whole they by no +means represent the dregs of society, even in the great proletarian +uprising, and that they commonly include members +of almost every social and economic group in a given society, +except possibly the very top of the social pyramid. And yet the +Essexes, Washingtons, and Lafayettes are very close to the +top. Even in Russia, Brusilov, a distinguished Czarist general, +lived to serve the Soviet government in the 1920 drive on +Warsaw.</p> + +<p>Let us now see what we can make of the leaders, judging +them first by the comparatively objective standards of their +social origins and economic status. With the Jacobins the +present writer was able to make some study of the purely local +leaders, the men who normally don’t get into history. From +the careers of dozens of these subalterns of revolution, a conclusion +seemed clear: “the leaders are substantially of the same +social standing as the rank and file. Possibly there are, among +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>the leaders during the Terror, more men who seem definitely, +in 1789, failures, or at least at odds with their environment. +Yet the proportion of these village Marats is not striking.”</p> + +<p>As for the national leaders in the French revolution, they +are, judged by these standards, a varied lot. In the years 1789-92 +they include noblemen like the King’s cousin, the Duke +of Orléans, Mirabeau, the Lameths, Lafayette; lawyers in vast +numbers, from well-known Parisian lawyers like Camus to +obscure but thoroughly respectable provincial lawyers like young +Robespierre from Arras (who had once written his name de +Robespierre), or rising barristers like Danton, come to Paris +from a peasant background in Champagne; men of science +like the astronomer Bailly, the chemist Lavoisier, and the +mathematician Monge; and, nursed by the new power of the +press, journalists like Marat and Desmoulins, publicists like +Brissot, provincial bourgeois of Chartres, and Condorcet, a +marquis and a <i lang="fr">philosophe</i>. After 1792, extremely few new leaders +came to the top. The men who ran France in 1793-94 +were, perhaps, somewhat less refined or distinguished than the +hopeful intellectuals of Mme. Roland’s circle; and they would +have seemed very barbarous at Versailles in 1788. They were +not, however, of very different social origins from the men +who really ran the old France—the literate bourgeoisie from +which were ultimately recruited the bureaucracy.</p> + +<p>Of the striking respectability and excellent social standing +of the men who signed our Declaration of Independence most +Americans are fully aware. Of its fifty-six signers thirty-three +held college degrees and only about four had little or no formal +education. There were five doctors, eleven merchants, four +farmers, twenty-two lawyers, three ministers. Twelve were sons +of ministers. Nearly all were affluent. Sam Adams, who seems +among the more disreputable of our leaders, came from a merchant +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>family of some means, and graduated from Harvard in +1740, where he was listed fifth out of twenty-two in those +mysterious lists which before Professor S. E. Morison’s researches +we all thought directly measured social standing. Even +the Tories, though they flung words like “rabble” about very +freely, could consistently reproach the revolutionary leaders +with nothing worse in this respect than being amateurs in +the art of governing. “From shopkeepers, tradesmen, and attorneys +they are become statesmen and legislators.... Almost +every individual of the governing party in America fills at present, +in his own fancy, a station not only superior to what he +had ever filled before, but to what he had ever expected to +fill,” writes a conservative, or moderate, in the <cite>Middlesex +Journal</cite> for April 6, 1776.</p> + +<p>We need not go into the social origins of the leaders of +the moderates in the English revolution. They are clearly +among the highest in the land. The immoderates present an +interesting spectacle, a mixture of gentlemen of good breeding, +of self-educated careerists and of humble men inspired by +a fury as yet divine, as yet without benefit of psychoanalysis. +Cromwell himself, of course, was an East Anglian country +gentleman, whose family tree ramified into a good deal of the +new wealth originating in Tudor confiscations. Ireton, who became +his son-in-law, was of similar antecedents, as were many +other Independent leaders in old and new England. Ludlow +the regicide was a son of Sir Henry Ludlow of Wiltshire, and +went to Trinity, Cambridge. Even John Lilburne the Leveller +is described as “of good family” dating back to the fourteenth +century, and seems to have been typical of the lesser gentry +whose sons not infrequently passed over into trade. We know +little of the social origins of such men as Winstanley the +Digger or Edward Sexby, a soldier of Cromwell’s regiment who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>appears later as a kind of international agent of republicanism. +Robert Everard, with Winstanley a leader of the curious communistic +group known as the Diggers, was a captain in the +army and is described as a “gentleman of liberal education.” +John Rogers the Millenarian was the son of an Anglican clergyman +and a Royalist.</p> + +<p>Russia presents a case more nearly parallel to our other +countries in respect to the social origins of the leaders of her +revolution than might at first sight seem likely in a proletarian +revolution. Perhaps the moderates in Russia held power +so briefly and so uncomfortably that they hardly count. Kadets +like Miliukov, a historian of good family, Tereschenko, a Kiev +sugar millionaire, the Octobrist Guchkov, a wealthy Moscow +merchant, and poor old Prince Lvov remind us of the rich +Puritan lords and merchants of the English revolution, the +well-born Feuillants of the French revolution. The Menshevik +and Social-Revolutionary leaders were mostly intellectuals, petty +officials, trade union and co-operative leaders; some of their +most eloquent orators came from Georgia, “the Gironde of +the Russian revolution.” Kerensky was a radical lawyer of +provincial bureaucratic stock from the little Volga town of +Simbirsk, now called Ulianovsk, in memory of a greater than +Kerensky who also hailed from Simbirsk. As a matter of fact, +V. I. Ulianov, better known by his revolutionary name of Lenin, +came from exactly the same social class as Kerensky. His father +was an inspector of schools at Simbirsk, a position of much +more social standing in bureaucratic Czarist Russia than it +would seem to us to be—very definitely in the superior bourgeoisie.</p> + +<p>The other Bolshevik leaders are a varied lot: intellectual +Jews like Trotsky (born Bronstein) and Kamenev (born Rosenfeld), +both educated men, by no means typical Ghetto Jews; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>Felix Dzerzhinsky, of noble Polish-Lithuanian stock; Sverdlov, +by training a chemist; Kalinin, whom one might call a professional +peasant; Stalin (born Djugashvili), of Georgian peasant-artisan +stock, destined by his mother for the priesthood, and +actually for some time a student in a seminary; Chicherin, of +stock sufficiently aristocratic to hold himself at least as well-born +as Lord Curzon; Antonov-Ovseënko, Red Army leader +with the fine bourgeois inheritance of a hyphenated name. The +negotiations at Brest-Litovsk, however, afford a neat synopsis +of Bolshevik leadership and proof of its non-proletarian character. +When the first Russian delegation was sent to that town +to meet the Germans it included as samples of the proletarian +achievements of the revolution one specimen each of sailor, +worker, and peasant. The peasant is said, no doubt by malicious +enemies of the working class, to have distinguished himself +chiefly by his interest in the liquor supply. When, however, +the negotiations really got going after a recess, the Russians +dropped their ornamental sailor, worker, and peasant, and were +represented by men of course not the social equals of the +high-born Germans opposite them, but, one suspects, their +cultural superiors—Joffe, Kamenev, Pokrovsky, Karakhan—and +by a somewhat neurotic lady-Bolshevik, Mme. Bitzenko, who +had won her spurs by shooting a Czarist official in the bad old +days. But, of course, even orthodox Marxism admits that the +proletariat cannot lift itself by its own bootstraps, and that its +leaders must therefore come from classes sufficiently privileged +to have had an education fitting them to interpret the +subtleties of Marxist theology.</p> + +<p>Finally, the inexperience, the “newness,” of the revolutionary +leaders has generally been exaggerated in our textbooks. +They had, especially in Russia, a long training in the direction +of dissenting and persecuted little societies, the revolutionary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>groups. And revolutionists as a group are so much like any +other human beings that to learn the art of leading them is +to have gone a long way in political apprenticeship. Even in +France, the members of the National Assembly were not as +politically innocent as they are supposed to have been. Many +had had business experience, or had been diplomatists, or civil +servants, or had taken part in local politics in provinces which +had their own estates. All of them were used to the politics +of pressure groups. These revolutionary leaders are mostly far +from academic, unworldly, pure theorists; they do not step +suddenly from the cloister to the council hall. Their training +may have subtly unfitted them for leading a stable society; but +that is another, and at present insoluble, problem. They are +certainly fitted for leadership in an unstable society.</p> + +<p>We have, then, found that both rank and file and leaders of +active revolutionary groups cannot be catalogued neatly as +coming from any one social or economic group. They are not +even strikingly, precociously, young. Their leaders are usually +in middle age, the thirties and forties, and thus younger than +most of the politically prominent in stable societies, which +naturally incline to the rule of the old. But the St. Justs and +the Bonapartes, the boys in their twenties, are the exception, +not the rule. The leadership of the Russian revolution which, +with the distortion that comes from contemporaneousness, we +are likely to regard as the most “radical,” was on the average +the oldest in years of all our revolutions. The revolutionists +tend to represent a fairly complete cross-section of their communities, +with a sprinkling of the very highest ranks of their +societies—men like Lafayette, for instance, whom Mr. Lothrop +Stoddard calls “misguided superiors”—and, as far as the active +ruling groups go, extremely few of the submerged, downtrodden, +lowest ranks. This is as true of the Bolsheviks as of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>the Puritans and the Jacobins. Bums, hoboes, the mob, the +rabble, the riffraff, may be recruited to do the street-fighting +and the manor-burning of revolutions, but they emphatically +do not make, do not run, revolutions—not even proletarian +revolutions.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_129"><em>IV. Character and Disposition</em></h3> + +<p>We now face a much more difficult task, one where our +information is neither so objective nor so readily catalogued as +our information about the social and economic status of revolutionists. +This is the problem—psychological at bottom—of +seeing how far these revolutionists belong to types which are +normally viewed by John Jones as queer, eccentric, or downright +mad. Now one might quite justifiably argue <i lang="la">a priori</i> that +a wholly contented man could not possibly be a revolutionist. +But the trouble is that there are so many ways of being discontented, +as well as contented, on this earth. Indeed, the +cruder Marxists, and the cruder classical economists, make an +almost identical error: they both assume that economics deals +exhaustively with whatever makes men happy or miserable. +Men have many incentives to action which the economist, +limited to the study of men’s rational actions, simply cannot +include in his work. They observably do a great deal that simply +makes no sense at all, if we assume them to be guided <em>wholly</em> +by any conceivable rational economic motive: near-starving in +the British Museum to write <cite>Das Kapital</cite>, for instance, or seizing +deserts under the comforting illusion that trade follows +the flag, or making the world quite safe for democracy. Yet +clearly a man who takes part in a revolution before it is demonstrably +successful—and after it is successful it may perhaps +be said to have ceased to be a revolution anyway—is a discontented +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>man, or at least a man shrewd enough to estimate +that there are enough discontented men to be forged into a +group that can make a revolution. We must make some effort +to study the nature of such discontents as seen in individuals.</p> + +<p>For here the method of statistical study of large groups of +revolutionists, like the Jacobins, will not work. At most these +rank and file are names, with profession and perhaps some other +indication of social status. Modern interest in social history +and the common man has indeed made available a certain +number of old diaries and letters of common men, and the Russian +revolution has done its best to keep alive the memory +of worker this of the Putilov factory or sailor that of the <em>Aurora</em>. +Trotsky himself is very eloquent about the role of these heroic +workers, sailors, and peasants in his <cite>History of the Russian +Revolution</cite>, yet he manages to spend as much of his time on +the great names as if he were a mere bourgeois historian. We +have, of course, the blanket denunciations—they are hardly +descriptions—of one side by another. These are much too emotional +as a rule to have any evidential value, except as to the +intensity of emotions evoked during revolutions. Even in our +own presumably mild revolution one notes a Tory who is reported +to have said, “It would be a joy to ride through American +blood to the hubs of my chariot wheels.” Of course these +American Tories thought the revolutionists were wild radicals, +scheming inferiors, jealous rabble. On the other hand, most +of us who were brought up without benefit of the new history +were taught in school to regard the Tories as just straight villains, +traitors, morally reprehensible people without economic, +social, or indeed any characteristics that separated them from +such villains of fiction as Simon Legree. So in the French revolution, +each side accused the other of all sorts of moral failings, +but rarely got down to effective details of daily life.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span></p> + +<p>If we cannot for these reasons do much with the political +and social psychology of large groups of revolutionists, we can +at least look over some of the leaders, hoping that the list we +decide upon will not be too unrepresentative. Here at least +we can count upon quite a bit of biographical information. +Thanks to those admirable works, the <cite>Dictionary of National +Biography</cite> and the <cite>Dictionary of American Biography</cite>, we can +even sample some of the lesser leaders, the noncommissioned +officers of revolutions. The French are now at work on their +biographical dictionary, which promises to be even more +scholarly than its Anglo-Saxon prototypes, but as it has only +just conquered the letter “A” it is not of much use to us. +Russia is very difficult indeed from this point of view; there are +plenty of brilliant comments on Lenin, Trotsky, and Stalin, but +they are also very contradictory. On the lesser figures there is +not much trustworthy biographical writing available in the +Western languages, nor for that matter in Russian. We may +note here, however, that the extraordinary proliferation of assumed +names in the Russian revolution probably does not stem +with most of these pseudonymous heroes from any feelings of +shame for a criminal or disgraceful past. Their crimes were +no doubt many, but crimes only against Czarist oppression. +Perhaps there was originally some mildly melodramatic notion +that these aliases were useful against the Czarist police, but +soon they became a mere fashion, a revolutionary fad.</p> + +<p>At this point there is some danger of our falling into a +dreary catalogue. At the risk of seeming to turn aside from +strictly scientific systematizing, we shall have to group our +facts as we go along under certain human types or characters. +This is a process which has been done successfully by a great +many shrewd observers of human behavior, from Theophrastus +through Molière to Sainte-Beuve and Bagehot. It is perhaps +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>in some respects a more useful way of classifying men than +formal psychology or formal sociology has yet worked out. +These are not, one hopes, imaginary characters. If they are one-tenth +as real as Alceste or the Penurious Man they are more +real than anyone the average sociologist ever dealt with.</p> + +<p>We may begin with the gentleman-revolutionist, whom Mr. +Lothrop Stoddard calls the “misguided superior,” the man +born on top, but perversely unwilling to stay there. He is by +no means a simple person, and indeed sometimes manages to +combine an astonishing number of revolutionary traits. It must +be admitted that with many of these misguided superiors in +our four societies, dislike for the ways of their class is apparently +partly motivated by their inability to succeed in certain +activities honored in that class. You need not be a debunking +historian to admit that Lafayette revolted against the Court +of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette partly because he cut so +awkward a figure there. Liberty, fortunately, did not need to +be courted in a minuet. We must not seem to be cynical in +these matters. Lafayette’s love of liberty was no doubt morally +a far better thing than if he had loved place, pension, or mistress. +But we must infer from his actions that he had very +early realized that nothing short of a love of liberty would +get him very far. And so today, when you find in one of our +colleges a well-nurtured youth turned Communist, you can +be almost certain that he is not captain of the football team +nor secretary of Chi Phi Digamma. He may indeed be Phi +Beta Kappa. This condition we need not here either applaud +or condemn, but simply note.</p> + +<p>It would, however, be cynical—and hence quite unscientific—to +deny that many of these misguided superiors are also +moved by what we shall have to call sincere idealism. Their +own social group comes to seem to them dissolute, or dull, or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>cruel, or heartless. They see the possibilities of a better world. +They are influenced by the writings of the intellectuals, who +have begun their desertion of the established order. They come +to struggle for God’s kingdom on this earth. They are usually, +of course, uncomfortable on this earth, but for a whole lot +of reasons, many of which cannot be simply dismissed as being +in the province of the psychiatrist. Shelley, who never actually +got a chance at revolution outside poetry, is a familiar example +of this sensitive, and often neurotic, type. Dzerzhinsky, the +Polish aristocrat who gave life to the terrible Cheka, was a +delicate and sincere fanatic. The Marquis de St. Huruge, who +figures disreputably in the disorders and street-fighting of the +French revolution, was apparently pretty crazy, and not even +a gentleman. Condorcet, also a marquis, was a gentleman and +scholar, and if he had a good deal of the vanity that goes +naturally enough with both, and very little of the sense that +sometimes goes with either, was at heart a kind and sensitive +man.</p> + +<p>Others desert their class and join the revolution for the +ignoble but sometimes socially very useful reason that they +think the signs point to the victory of the revolution. Sometimes +these men are like Mirabeau, rather shady characters +who have for some time compromised themselves by irregular +lives. Sometimes they are men like Talleyrand, careful, sensible +men whose main desire is to keep in a position of honor and +affluence, and who have no sense of loyalty to abstract notions +of right and wrong. And, of course, in the early stages of our +revolutions, even the Russian, plenty of rich and influential +men of no extraordinary intelligence or stupidity joined the +revolution because the revolution was fashionable, and an apparent +success. Often these men, who had not been directly +in political power, were flattered by the prospect of political +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>power—men like the Duc d’Orléans or Bailly or Tereschenko +or Konovalov. But they were essentially fairly ordinary human +beings, no fitter subjects for hagiography—Christian, Freudian, +or Marxist—than you or I.</p> + +<p>If we leave the superiors, those who belong by birth or upbringing +to the ruling classes, and who yet side with revolt, +and turn to leaders who come from classes below the ruling +one, we shall find the same very great variety of what we must +tritely call human nature. We shall find fools, scoundrels, +idealists, professional agitators, diplomatists, lunatics, cowards, +and heroes.</p> + +<p>Now it would be useless to deny that among those who come +to the top in the troubled times of revolution are many who +probably never would have been heard of in normal times. +Some of these were certainly failures in the old society, men +who were unable to attain the objects of their ambition. In +spite of all that an able defender like Professor L. R. Gottschalk +has written to prove Marat’s learning and respectability, it is +still true that on the whole the <cite>Friend of the People</cite> was not +a success before the revolution. Marat was a self-educated man +of humble stock, with a habit of presenting himself with academic +degrees and honorary distinctions his biographers—and +even his contemporaries—were not always able to confirm. He +tried very hard to storm the Parnassus of the <i lang="fr">philosophes</i>, but +was never admitted. Like most enlightened eighteenth-century +men of letters, he dabbled in natural science, and emerged +with a variant of the old phlogiston theory of combustion, the +originality and truth of which were not properly appreciated +by his jealous contemporaries. Lavoisier and the “new chemistry” +were triumphing in the 1780’s, and Marat failed to recognize +the meaning of the revolution in this science.</p> + +<p>When the Estates-General met in 1789 he was a disappointed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>intellectual, a man who had failed of acceptance by that little +band of writers and talkers who in late eighteenth-century +France perhaps enjoyed more unalloyed admiration from the +public than such folk have ever enjoyed. No Frenchman could +at that epoch have coined a term like “brain-trust”; but if he +had it would have carried no such ironic overtones of scorn +as it does in twentieth-century America. Marat, rejected by +these admired leaders of opinion, was in 1789 full to the brim +with envy and hatred of everything established and esteemed +in France. Soon revolutionary journalism was to give him an +ample outlet. He became the watch-dog of the revolution—a +mad watch-dog, always in his <cite>l’Ami du Peuple</cite> at work scenting +plots against the people, always hating those in power, even +when they were of his own party, always crying for blood and +revenge. A most unpleasant fellow, no doubt. Whether he was +a more unpleasant one than certain journalists of normal and +unrevolutionary twentieth-century America, it is hard to say. +Journalism was very new in France in 1790, and people expected +a good deal. Marat at least had one excuse. He was +suffering from an incurable skin disease which gave to his life +an almost unbearable nervous tension.</p> + +<p>Yet the failures are by no means all of the relatively simple +type of Marat. Sam Adams was certainly a failure when judged +by the standards of thrifty, sober New England. He had no +money sense whatever, ran through a small inheritance, was +constantly in debt; let his wife and children get along as they +could while he organized his famous caucus and committees +of correspondence. He is by no means a figure for the copy-books. +Yet Adams could do certain things extremely well, and +if these things were not in the 1770’s as financially rewarding +as they are now, Adams at least reaped less tangible rewards +in his own time—and he did become governor of Massachusetts. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>Adams’s gifts, of course, as they are deftly analyzed in +Mr. J. C. Miller’s recent study, are those of the expert propagandist +and organizer. It is hard to believe that today the +advertising business would leave a man of his parts undiscovered +and unrewarded.</p> + +<p>Thomas Paine, who managed to involve himself in two +revolutions, the American and the French, is still another revolutionist +who amounted to very little before the revolution. +When he sailed for America in 1774 he was thirty-eight, certainly +no longer a young man. He came from East-Anglian +Quaker artisan stock, and had picked up an eighteenth-century +education, chiefly in the sciences and in the philosophy of the +Enlightenment, while pursuing half a dozen different occupations +from privateering to stay-making and shopkeeping. He +had made an unsuccessful marriage, been in and out of the +excise service twice, acquired a reputation as the town “atheist” +of Lewes in Sussex, and had led an unsuccessful and somewhat +premature attempt at lobbying in the interest of his +fellow-excisemen. This attempt, which resulted in his second +and final dismissal from the service, also brought him to the +attention of Benjamin Franklin, who encouraged him to emigrate. +But Paine arrived in Philadelphia like many another +European, an unsuccessful man looking for a new start. The +revolution gave it to him, and <cite>Common Sense</cite> made him a +distinguished publicist. Paine was the professional radical, the +crusading journalist, the religious rationalist, a man who in +quiet times could hardly have been more than another Bradlaugh, +another Ingersoll.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, revolution not infrequently brings to +the top men of very practical abilities, men of the kind that +even cautious and hard-headed conservatives must recognize +as worthy of respect. Such men may have lived in obscurity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>simply because they had not been disturbed; or they may +have been the victims of some such stoppage in the circulation +of the élite, the career open to talents, as we noted in +a previous chapter. Cromwell is a classic example of a man +who might have remained a simple country gentleman with +an undistinguished career in the House of Commons had it +not been for the Puritan revolution. Of Washington himself +a similar generalization can be made. We shall come back again +to this question of the soundness of revolutionary leadership.</p> + +<p>So far we have said nothing of the men of blood, of Carrier +and the <i lang="la">noyades</i> of Nantes, of Collot d’Herbois and the +<i lang="la">mitraillades</i> of Lyons, of those to us nameless agents of the +Cheka whose work made the French Reign of Terror seem +mild in comparison, or of those English agents of the so-called +Cromwellian settlement of Ireland who for long-time effectiveness +perhaps hold the record among Terrorists. We shall +later come to the problem of terroristic methods during the +crisis period of our revolutions. Here we are simply interested +in pointing out that among the personnel of the revolutionists +are a number of men who have been singled out by posterity +as examples of the kind of monster that comes to the surface +in revolutions. No one can deny the fact of such emergence, +nor the fact that such men can hardly be understood save with +the help of criminology and abnormal psychology.</p> + +<p>Carrier himself is a perfectly good example of these men. +However much Republican apologists may try to soften down +the melodramatic accounts his enemies have left of his activities +at Nantes, the fact remains that he did so speed up the +revolutionary courts that it became much easier to drown convicted +persons in batches in the river Loire than to wait for +the slow-moving guillotine. Carrier was a provincial lawyer who +had got himself elected to the Convention by joining his local +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>club and repeating the stock phrases of the Enlightenment. He +was sent as a representative on mission to Nantes, and there +power seems to have gone to his head. Moreover, Nantes was +on the edge of the always dangerous Vendée, and Carrier may +well have been driven to cleaning up his enemies in a group +by fear of conspiracy against his own life. He certainly put up +a bold front, swaggered about town, gave entertainments, talked +big, and left behind him festering hatreds that brought his +downfall and condemnation to death after the Terror was over.</p> + +<p>Carrier reminds one of Mr. James T. Farrell’s gangsters. +There is the bravado, the consciousness of life lived at the +level of melodrama, the new, crude sense of power, the constant +haunting fear of reprisals, the childish immediacy of +purpose. What one does not find in Carrier is a specific pathological +love of bloodshed, a diseased mind of the sort linked +with the name of the Marquis de Sade. Indeed, this latter +kind of insanity is more often found among the jailers, thugs, +and hangers-on of revolution than among its leaders, even +leaders at the level of Carrier. And of course to many people +the most revolting acts in general are the acts of revolutionary +mobs—the September massacres at Paris in 1792, for instance, +which are very closely paralleled by the history of lynching in +America. Here there crop up some of the most shocking instances +of human cruelty; but they are by no means specifically +to be associated with revolutions. Pogroms and lynchings are +at least as bad. Revolutions and mobs are not interchangeable +terms; you can and usually do have one without the other. +The kind of cruelty more properly associated with revolutions +is the cruelty—to some people more revolting than the cruelty +of mobs—of judicial murders done in cold blood, and on principle.</p> + +<p>There is another type commonly, but erroneously, held to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>come to the top in revolutions. This is the crack-brained +schemer, the fantastic doctrinaire, the man who has a crazy +gadget which will bring Utopia. Briefly, perhaps, in the honeymoon +stage the lunatic fringe has its innings, and in the English +revolution rather more than its innings, at least in print. +But revolutions are a serious business, not to be distracted by +eccentricities. Once the line of revolutionary orthodoxy is +established—and though as we shall see it is a grim and rigid +line, it is not a crazy and aberrant one—once this orthodoxy is +established the lunatics, mild or serious, are pretty well kept +down. There are Marxist revolutions, natural rights revolutions, +but none for the Single Tax, Social Credit, Theosophy +or Extra Sensory Perception. It is only your very stable societies, +like Victorian England, that can afford to turn a Hyde +Park over to the lunatic fringe. Even if you think Cromwell, +Washington, Robespierre, Napoleon, Lenin, and Stalin all belong +to this lunatic fringe, you will have to admit that in their +day of power they clamped down pretty hard on other and +discordant lunatics.</p> + +<p>Nor is it possible to isolate a revolutionary type labeled +“criminal,” “degenerate,” and neatly conforming to some +anthropometric standards. Attempts to do this sort of thing +have certainly been made. There are probably those who hold +that revolutionists have a fixed cephalic index, or that they +are predominantly dark-haired. Certainly there are many revolutionists +who, like Carrier, behave as criminals behave in +stable societies; but the proportion of such revolutionists does +not seem extraordinarily high.</p> + +<p>A more characteristic revolutionary type is the disputatious, +contrary-minded person who loves to stand out from the crowd +of conformists. Indeed, one of our revolutionary groups, the +English Puritans, was filled with this especially rugged anarchism. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>Not only do individuals stand out in this respect; +the group as a whole sets itself off deliberately from the great +and the fashionable. As a social historian has written: “Whatever +was in fashion is what the Puritan would not wear. When +ruffs were in vogue, he wore a large falling band; when pickadillies +[ruffs] were out of request [1638], and wide falling +bands of delicate lawn edged with fine lace came in, he wore +a very small band. Fashionable shoes were wide at the toe; his +were sharp. Fashionable stockings were, as a rule, of any color +except black; his were black. His garters were short, and, before +all, his hair was short. Even at the end of Elizabeth’s +reign, short hair was a mark of Puritanism.”</p> + +<p>The type is seen most clearly, however, in certain individuals. +John Lilburne, the English Leveller, is virtue incarnate +and uncomfortable. He seems to have come of a family of +rugged individuals, for his father, a gentleman of Durham, is +said to have been the last Englishman to have recourse to the +feudal right to ask for judgment through ordeal by combat in +a civil suit. John was steadily addicted to contention, and attacked +Presbyterians and Independents as bitterly as he had +earlier attacked the Court. Indeed, as an historian has written, +“Lilburne was tried in almost every court in the kingdom, +under varying conditions, during a period of some twenty years, +for libels on the Government of the day, King, Parliament, +Commonwealth, and Protector. One of the first duties that +devolved upon the judges of the Commonwealth was to deal +with this gentleman.” Yet he seems to have preserved a good +deal of social pride along with that intellectual and spiritual +pride which is one of the marks of the English Puritan. On +trial in 1653, he told his judge, a self-made man of artisan +background who had risen with Cromwell, that “it was fitter +for him [the judge] to sell thimbles and bodkins than to sit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>in judgment on a person so much his superior.” Henry Marten, +the regicide, who ought to have been a good judge of such +matters, said that if the world were emptied of all but John +Lilburne, Lilburne would quarrel with John and John would +quarrel with Lilburne. Lilburne’s pamphlets are full of the +self-righteousness of those who fight always for the right, and +who seem to take delight in the uncomfortable position to +which the poet later assigned the right—</p> + + +<p class="center">“Right forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne.”</p> + + +<p>We are close to the martyrs.</p> + +<p>Lilburne’s motives were no doubt of the highest. He believed +in absolute democracy, and his platform of manhood +suffrage, biennial parliaments, religious toleration, equality before +the law, was one day to secure pretty complete acceptance +in England. But in 1645 only a very doctrinaire person, only +a fanatic, could have held this platform possible of immediate +realization. Lilburne was not only a disputatious man, a courter +of martyrdom; he was what the world commonly calls an +idealist, and suggests a consideration of a type which occurs +very frequently in these revolutions. It does not seem altogether +wise to single out any one type as the perfect revolutionist, +but if you must have such a type, then you will do +well to consider, not the embittered failure, not the envious +upstart, not the bloodthirsty lunatic, but the idealist. Idealists, +of course, are in our own times the cement of a stable, normal +society. It is good for us all that there should be men of noble +aspirations, men who have put behind them the dross of this +world for the pure word, for the idea and the ideal as the +noblest philosophers have known them. But in normal times +such idealists do not seem, at least in Western society, to +occupy positions of power and responsibility. In normal times +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>today we look up to our idealists, and occasionally give them +prizes and honorary degrees, but we do not choose them to rule +over us. We notably refuse to let them make our foreign +policies.</p> + +<p>Indeed, one of the distinguishing marks of a revolution is +this: that in revolutionary times the idealist at last gets a +chance to try and realize his ideals. Revolutions are full of +men who hold very high standards of human conduct, the +kind of standards which have for several thousand years been +described by some word or phrase which has the overtones +that “idealistic” has for us today. There is no need for us to +worry over the metaphysical, nor even the semantic, implications +of the term. We all know an idealist when we see one, +and certainly when we hear one.</p> + +<p>Robespierre would have been an idealist in any society. +There is a familiar story of how the young Robespierre resigned +a judgeship rather than inflict the death penalty, which +ran counter to his humanitarian eighteenth-century upbringing. +Historians have pretty well destroyed that story, as they +have so many others from the cherry tree to Alfred and the +cakes. But, except in the very narrowest and least useful senses +of the word, such stories are in many important ways usually +“true.” This story about Robespierre suggests that he was a +good child of the Enlightenment. One need only read some +of his speeches, full of the simplicities, the moral aphorisms, +the aspirations of that innocent age, to realize that he was +quite capable of resigning, or buying, a judgeship rather than +abandon his ideals. He would, indeed, kill for his ideals.</p> + +<p>Those ideals, as they got formed by 1793, may seem to us +somewhat less than heroic, and they were certainly bolstered +by a good deal of personal ambition and sheer vanity in +Robespierre. But there they were: Robespierre wanted a France +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>where there should be neither rich nor poor, where men should +not gamble, nor get drunk, nor commit adultery, nor cheat, +nor rob, nor kill—where, in short, there would be neither petty +nor grand vices—a France ruled by upright and intelligent +men elected by the universal suffrage of the people, men +wholly without greed or love of office, and delightedly stepping +down at yearly intervals to give place to their successors, a +France at peace with herself and the world—but surely this is +enough? Robespierre’s personal rectitude is now hardly questioned +even by historians hostile to what he stood for; in his +own day, and especially immediately after his fall, he was accused +of almost every possible crime and moral delinquency. +He seems actually not even to have had any of the fashionable +vices—no drink, no gaming, no women. Modern historians +claim to have evidence that for a brief time in Paris he kept a +mistress. If he did, one supposes it must have been out of motives +of fancied hygiene; or possibly for a few weeks the country +lawyer had ideas of living as did the fashionable Parisians. +The Robespierre of the Terror, however, had certainly put +such ideas behind him, and was, as the Incorruptible, a living +symbol of the Republic of Virtue in his public and private +life.</p> + +<p>Now this idealist type is by no means simple. Cromwell +should clearly not be listed primarily under this category, and +yet there is something of the puritanical “seeker” in Cromwell, +something that makes his tortuous policy—indeed his double-dealing—very +hard to understand if you insist on seeing human +beings as logically consistent wholes. Both Lenin and Trotsky +are strange compounds of idealism and realism. This coupling +of idealism and realism does not mean simply that they both +on occasion could use realistic methods to attain ends dictated +by their ideals. Robespierre, Cromwell, Gladstone, or Woodrow +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>Wilson could do that. It means that they were also capable +of pursuing realistic immediate ends. Lenin, of course, was a +very skillful propagandist and organizer, with a great deal of +what we shall have to call executive ability. But, at least in +1917, he seems to have thought that world-wide revolution +was just around the corner, and that absolute economic equality +could be introduced immediately in Russia. The New +Economic Policy of 1921 is a clear indication that Lenin would +not pursue his ideals to the bitter end of defeat and martyrdom.</p> + +<p>Trotsky has one of the best critical minds of any Marxist, +is even capable, at moments, of a kind of skepticism about his +own aims. The Civil War of 1917-21 in Russia gave convincing +proof of his abilities both as an orator and as an executive +under pressure. Yet the Trotsky of the exile years seems to be +howling for the moon, which is one definition, perhaps too +unkind, of idealism. Had Trotsky remained in power he might +indeed have made his peace with bureaucracy, inequality, socialism-in-one-country, +Thermidorean decadence and all the +other evils he now associates with the name of Stalin. And +yet it seems not unlikely that this intransigeance of Trotsky’s, +this insistence on bringing heaven immediately to earth, this +unwillingness to accommodate his aims to human weakness, or +if you like, to human nature, help to explain why he did not +last in post-revolutionary Russia.</p> + +<p>Sentimental idealism was of course distinctly out of fashion +in the Russia of 1917. The harsh realities, or at any rate the +harsh <em>formulas</em>, of Marxist Socialism had replaced the naïve +hopes with which the French revolution had set out to make +this a better world. In both Lenin and Trotsky you can trace +this desire to seem to be hard-boiled, and it will not do to +imply that they did not in some ways succeed. There is one +pure idealist among the Russian leaders, however, one who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>presents us with still another variant of the type. That is +Lunacharsky, long Commissar for Education, the artist and +man of culture of the movement. Lunacharsky, in spite of his +past as a revolutionary agitator, was unquestionably a softie. +He possessed the ability to talk movingly about life and education +and art, and carried over into a century where it seemed +a little strange something of Rousseau or of <cite>Paul and Virginia</cite>. +The world should be grateful to him, however, for he helped +greatly to prevent the wholesale destruction of works of art +identified offhand with a dissolute capitalistic past.</p> + +<p>There is, finally, the man almost wholly of words, the man +who can hold crowds spellbound, the revolutionary orator. +He may be listed as an idealist, because although part of his +role is to egg the crowd on to acts of violence, he is even more +typically the soother, the preacher, the ritual-maker, the man +who holds the crowd together. In this role his words need +hardly have any meaning at all, but commonly they can be +analyzed out into pleasant aspirations and utterances. Much +of Robespierre comes under this head, as do Patrick Henry, +Vergniaud, Tseretelli. The type, of course, exists in all normal +societies, and is usually esteemed. Zinoviev seems in the Russian +revolution to have borne some such role. Lenin realized +how useful Zinoviev was as an orator and even as a kind of +Petrograd boss, but he seems to have had a pretty complete contempt +for his sense and intelligence.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_145">V. <em>Summary</em></h3> + +<p>To sum up, it should by now be clear that it takes almost +as many kinds of men and women to make a revolution as to +make a world. It is probable that, especially in their crisis +periods, our revolutions threw up into positions of prominence +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>and even of responsibility men of the kind who would in +normal or healthy societies not attain similar positions. Notably, +great revolutions would appear to put idealists in possession +of power they do not ordinarily have. They would seem +also to give scope for special talents, such as Marat had, for +yellow journalism and muck-raking of a very lively sort. They +certainly create a number of empty places to fill, and give an +opportunity to clever young men who may also be unscrupulous. +They probably insure a bit more public attention, for a +while at least, to the chronic rebel and complainer, as well as to +the lunatic fringe of peddlers of social and political nostrums.</p> + +<p>But they do not re-create mankind, nor do they even make +use of a completely new and hitherto suppressed set of men +and women. In all four of our revolutions, even in the Russian +revolution, the rank and file was composed of quite ordinary +men and women, probably a bit superior to their less active +fellows in energy and willingness to experiment, and in the +English, American, and French revolutions, even in their crisis +periods, people of substantial property. These revolutionists +were not in general afflicted with anything the psychiatrist +could be called in about. They were certainly not riffraff, +scoundrels, scum of the earth. They were not even worms turning. +Nor were their leaders by any means an inferior lot suddenly +elevated to positions of power which they could not +worthily occupy. There is no question that in the turmoil of +revolutions a good many scoundrels rise to the top—though +they can also rise to the top without benefit of revolution, as a +glance at some of the phases of either the Grant or the Harding +administrations should amply prove. But the level of ability, +of ability in an almost technical sense, the ability to handle +men and to administer a complex social system, the level of +ability suggested by names like Hampden, Pym, Cromwell, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>Washington, John Adams, Hamilton, Jefferson, Mirabeau, +Talleyrand, Carnot, Cambon, Danton, Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, +is certainly very high.</p> + +<p>All this by no means amounts to asserting the paradox that +there are no real differences between revolutions and ordinary +times. On the contrary, especially in their crisis periods, revolutions +are like nothing else on earth. But you cannot altogether +explain the differences between societies in revolution and +societies in equilibrium by suggesting that a whole new crew +operates during a revolution; by saying, if you dislike a particular +revolution and all its works, that the scoundrels and the +bums put it over on the good souls; or if you happen to like +and approve a particular revolution, that the heroes and sages +turned out the corrupt old gang. It just isn’t as simple as all +that. Since on the whole the evidence would seem to show that +revolutionists are more or less a cross-section of common humanity, +an explanation for the undoubted fact that during +certain phases of a revolution they behave in a way we should +not expect such people to behave, must be sought in changes +worked on them by the conditions they live under, by their +revolutionary environment.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_five"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">five</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">THE RULE OF THE MODERATES</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_148"><em>I. The Problem of the Moderates</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">In the summer of 1792 Lafayette, with some of his officers, +left the French Army and passed over to the Austrian lines. +He was promptly put in prison by the Austrians, to whom he +was a dangerous firebrand of revolution. Lafayette was, however, +a good deal more fortunate than many of his fellow-heroes +of 1789 who elected to stay in France, and who were guillotined +as dangerous reactionaries and counter-revolutionists. +Fedor Linde, a moderate Socialist who in April, 1917, moved +the Finnish Regiment to a mutinous demonstration against +the pro-Ally and still more moderate Miliukov, was later sent +to the front as a government commissar under Kerensky and +there was lynched by mutinous soldiers who refused to obey +his commands. In 1647 Denzil Holles, of whom we took note +briefly back in 1629, as he was helping to hold down the +Speaker in his chair, was with ten other Presbyterian members +excluded from Parliament for “endeavoring to overthrow the +rights and liberties of the subjects.” He did indeed return +briefly to his seat again in 1648, but was soon forced to flee +to France to save his life. A famous phrase from the French +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>revolution puts the thing neatly: “The revolution, like Saturn, +devours its children.”</p> + +<p>The honeymoon was in these revolutions short; very soon +after the old regime had fallen there began to be evident signs +that the victors were not as unanimous about what was to +be done to remake the country as had appeared in the first +triumphant speeches and ceremonies. Those who had directly +taken over the mechanism of government were in all four of +our societies men of the kind usually called moderates. They +represented the richer, better known and higher placed of the +old opposition to the government, and it is only to be expected +that they should take over from that government. Indeed, as we +have seen, their assumption of responsibility is almost a spontaneous +act. So strong is this feeling that the moderates should +take over power that it prevailed even in Russia in February, +1917. It looks to us now as though a Socialist coalition of some +kind—Social-Revolutionary and Menshevik groups, with possibly +even Bolshevik adhesions—might just as well have assumed +power right away in that month. The Kadets and other +bourgeois groups clearly had few strong roots in the country. +And yet Lvov and his well-meaning moderates had little difficulty +in assuming at least nominal control.</p> + +<p>The moderates, once in power, turned out to have less +homogeneity and party discipline than they seemed to have +when they were in opposition. They were faced with the difficult +task of reforming existing institutions, or making a new +constitution, and taking care at the same time of the ordinary +work of governing. They were also confronted very soon with +armed enemies, and found themselves engaged in a foreign or +civil war, or in both together. They found against them an increasingly +strong and intransigeant group of radicals and extremists +who insisted that the moderates were trying to stop +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>the revolution, that they had betrayed it, that they were as +bad as the rulers of the old regime—indeed, much worse, since +they were traitors as well as fools and scoundrels. After a period, +brief in Russia, longer in France and England, there came a +show of force between moderates and extremists, a show of +force in many ways quite like that earlier one between the old +government and the revolutionists, and the moderates were +beaten. They fled into exile, they were put into prison ultimately +to face the scaffold, guillotine, or firing-squad, or if they +were lucky or obscure enough, they dropped out of sight and +were forgotten. The extremists in their turn took power.</p> + +<p>This process was not quite the same in the American revolution, +where on the whole it may be said that extremists like the +Independents, the Jacobins, and the Bolsheviks, did not attain +undivided rule. Nevertheless, as we shall see, in America rather +earlier in the revolutionary process a struggle between moderates +and radicals had been fought out, and had ended with victory +for the radicals. The fruit of that victory was the Declaration +of Independence. We may say then that in all our revolutions +there is a tendency for power to go from Right to Center to +Left, from the conservatives of the old regime to the moderates +to the radicals or extremists. As power moves along this line, +it gets more and more concentrated, more and more narrows +its base in the country and among the people, since at each +important crisis the defeated group has to drop out of politics. +To put it in another way: after each crisis the victors tend to +split into a more conservative wing holding power and a more +radical one in opposition. Up to a certain stage, each crisis sees +the radical opposition triumphant. The details of this process +vary naturally from revolution to revolution. Its stages are not +identical in length or in their time-sequence. In America power +never got as far Left as it did in the other countries.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p> + +<p>Nevertheless this struggle between moderates and extremists +is a stage in our revolutions as definite as those we have studied +in previous chapters, and by its very existence provides us with +a useful if somewhat simple uniformity. Before we attempt to +make refinements in this observation, before we try to discern +uniformities in the conduct of moderates and extremists, we +must review briefly the course of events during the rule of the +moderates.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_151"><em>II. Events During the Rule of the Moderates</em></h3> + +<p>With the outbreak of the Civil War in the summer of 1642, +Royalists and Parliamentarians stood opposed in arms. By the +Battle of Marston Moor in 1644, and certainly by that of +Naseby in 1645, the Royalist cause had become, in a military +sense, hopeless. But almost from the first clear break with +Charles, the Parliamentarians had won their revolution. The +Royalists did but play more effectively the role played in +America by the Tories, in France by the Royalists and clericals +in the provinces, the <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> abroad, in Russia by the numerous +White Armies which opposed the Bolsheviks until 1921. +We are not here so much interested in the Royalists as in the +Parliamentarians. Within these latter there is from 1642 on +an increasingly evident division between groups which we may +call roughly moderates and extremists.</p> + +<p>The division is not at first a simple one between two parties. +At the extreme right of the Parliamentarians were a few moderate +Episcopalians just touched with puritan notions, and usually +also constitutional monarchists. Many of this group were +on the whole indifferent to religious questions, felt that church +matters would settle themselves decently if the political difficulties +could be adjusted. Between these men and the moderate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>Royalists, who somewhat reluctantly chose to stand with their +king, there was actually very little difference. Next came the +great moderate party, Presbyterian in religion, puritan in ethics, +monarchist at heart, but monarchist in what was to become the +Whig tradition of the monarch who reigns but does not govern. +The left wing of the Presbyterians, early disillusioned with the +idea of monarchy by their hatred for Charles, merged easily +with the main group of the extremists. These in the English +revolution are called the Independents, extreme Calvinists who +insisted upon the independence of each separate congregation. +Their notions of church government were substantially those +well known in this country as Congregationalism. With them +for most political purposes were other groups that subsequently +made up the English nonconformists or dissenters—notably the +Baptists. The New Model Army, through which these radicals +made themselves an effective force in the revolution, contained +individuals espousing almost every conceivable kind of evangelical +religious belief, and a good many varieties of economic and +social beliefs. But the group did work as a group, and its core +was certainly Independent. To the left were other groups, +Levellers, Diggers, Fifth Monarchy men, whom we shall consider +in a later chapter.</p> + +<p>Now the fact that Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents +are in the English revolution respectively conservatives, +moderates, and extremists, is a bit confusing to the modern +reader. For the extreme idealists, these seventeenth-century +Englishmen are fighting over religious matters, fighting for +ideals, and he finds it absurd to equate them with Frenchmen +fighting for worldly liberty, equality, and fraternity, and shocking +to compare them with Russians fighting for crude economic +interests. On the other hand, the modern convert to the economic +interpretation of history is likely to regard these religious +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>differences as mere “ideologies,” or pretexts for a quarrel +which was really a simple economic one. To him, the Presbyterians +were small gentry or bourgeois business men, the Independents +petty bourgeois traders, artisans, and yeomen farmers +who quarreled after they had disposed of the feudal upper +classes. Both the idealist and the materialist are here clearly +wrong. Politics, economics, church government, and theology +are inextricably mingled in the minds and sentiments of seventeenth-century +Englishmen. Their conflicts are conflicts between +human beings, not between the abstractions of the +philosopher, the economist, or the sociologist. We must here +observe the ways in which these conflicts worked out. From +many points of view, it is profitable to regard these conflicts +as exhibiting the sequence of domination first by conservatives, +then by moderates, then by extremists. Naturally these conservatives, +moderates, and extremists were not identical with +similar groups in later revolutions. As compared with the men +of 1789 or of 1917, they read different books, disputed over +different ideas, just as they wore different clothes. Yet the +course of their revolution does display a striking identity with +our other revolutions in the relation between political organization +and human temperaments. The Presbyterian “compromisers” +were pushed aside by more determined and extreme +men, just as were the Feuillants and Girondins in France and +the Kadets and compromisist Socialist groups in Russia.</p> + +<p>Under the leadership of the Westminster Assembly, a Presbyterian +synod which began its meetings in the summer of +1643, that part of England under parliamentary control was +brought under the famed Scottish Covenant. Crosses, images, +crucifixes were torn down, the stained glass removed from the +churches, sermons lengthened, and liturgy simplified. Parliament +became the supreme law of the land. But already there +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>were signs that the Presbyterian rule was not to go unchallenged. +Marston Moor was not a Presbyterian victory. It was +won by Cromwell and his “Ironsides”; and these men were not +good Presbyterians. They were Independents, and some were +Anabaptists, Antinomians, Heaven knows what! It is said that +someone complained to Cromwell because one of his officers +was an Anabaptist, and received the reply, “Admit he be, shall +that render him incapable to serve the public? Take heed of +being too sharp ... against those to whom you can object +little but that they square not with you in every opinion concerning +matters of religion.”</p> + +<p>When the New Model Army was constructed from the +nucleus of Cromwell’s Ironsides, and had won the Battle of +Naseby, army and Parliament, Independent and Presbyterian, +extremists and moderates, found themselves in opposition on +various questions, notably on religious toleration and on what +was to be done about Charles I. The Presbyterians wanted an +established state church, built on their own notions of church +government and theology, with a minimum of toleration towards +papists and prelatists on the right and the sects on the +left. And they most certainly wanted a king, even if that king +were Charles Stuart. The Independents wanted what they +called toleration. They certainly didn’t mean what a nineteenth-century +Englishman or an American meant by religious toleration, +and when they got into power they were very far from +practicing toleration, even in the sense in which they had +preached it. But at least while they were in opposition they +agreed that religious belief was a personal matter and that the +state should not seek to impose identical religious practices and +organization on its citizens. As for the King, most of them by +1645 were sure Charles Stuart would never do. Cromwell was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>probably never a doctrinaire republican, but a great many of +his men certainly were.</p> + +<p>No single event marks exactly the transfer of power from the +moderates to the extremists in England. The process had gone +pretty far when Cornet Joyce of the army in June, 1646, seized +the King at Holmby House as he was about to yield to the +Parliament and consent for three years to govern as a Presbyterian +king. It was almost completed when two months later +Parliament at the dictation of the army reluctantly consented +to the exclusion of eleven of its own members, conspicuous +leaders of the Presbyterian group. Charles took the occasion of +the quarrel to attempt to further his own interests. His complicated +intrigues ended in nothing better than a brief war +between the Scottish Presbyterians and the Cromwellians, in +which for a moment the moderates could look up hopefully. +Cromwell defeated the Scotch at Preston Pans in August, +1648, and the army was in undisputed control in Great Britain. +After this the formal end of the moderates at Pride’s Purge in +December was unimportant. Colonel Pride and a few soldiers +were stationed at the door of the House of Commons to turn +back the unsuitable members as they came. Ninety-six Presbyterians +were thus excluded, leaving a group of fifty or sixty +regular voting members on whom the extremists could rely. +The Long Parliament had become the Rump.</p> + +<p>In America the conflict never took quite such clear lines. We +may say that the conservatives were those Tories who never +really complained about the imperial government, the moderates +those merchants and prosperous landowners who in a +sense began the whole movement by their agitation against the +Stamp Act, and the radicals that by no means united group +which finally put through the Declaration of Independence. +There was thus a kind of three-way struggle going on among +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>these groups in the ten years preceding the outbreak of hostilities +with the British Army. In this struggle the radicals exhibited +an extraordinary technical skill in the practical politics +of revolution. As John Adams later wrote of the organizations +which, starting with local committees of correspondence and +committees of safety, worked up to the continental congresses: +“What an engine! France imitated it and produced a revolution.... +And all Europe was inclined to imitate it for the +same revolutionary purpose.”</p> + +<p>The radicals really won their decisive victory by organizing +as they did the first Continental Congress in 1774. Professor +A. M. Schlesinger admirably summarizes the work of this Congress: +“The radicals had achieved several important ends. They +had reproduced on a national scale a type of organization and +a species of tactics that in many parts of British America had +enabled a determined minority to seize control of affairs ... +they had snatched from the merchant class the weapons which +the latter had fashioned to advance their own selfish interests +in former years, and had now reversed the weapons on them, +in an attempt to secure ends desired solely by the radicals. +Finally, they had defined—nationalized—the issue at stake in +such a manner as to afford prestige to radical groups, wherever +they were to be found, and to weaken the hold of the moderate +elements, on the ground that the latter were at variance +with the Continental Congress.”</p> + +<p>The taking of the Bastille on July 14, 1789, in France sealed +the defeat of the most conservative group, the true Royalists. +The victorious revolutionists did not long remain in harmony, +and the process of transfer of power to the left began in a few +months. In October of the same year the King and Queen were +riotously brought back to Paris from Versailles in what are +known as the October Days. These events sent into exile the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>leaders of the moderate conservatives, men like Mounier who +greatly admired the English Constitution, and wished France +to have a bicameral legislature with a House of Lords and a +House of Commons, and a real king. For the next few years +a group of moderates centering about men like Mirabeau, +Lafayette and the Lameths, were opposed by a group of +radicals centering around men—Pétion, Robespierre, Danton, +Brissot—soon to be leaders of the rival republican groups of +Gironde and Mountain, but at present united against the +moderates. The moderates succeeded in making the Constitution, +and starting the new regime off. But war between France +and the Central European powers of Austria and Prussia broke +out, certain provisions of the Constitution, notably those concerning +religion and the monarchy, failed to work well, Louis +himself was suspected of treason by many of his subjects, and +in the general political turmoil the active and well-organized +radicals overthrew the monarchy in the famous attack on the +Tuileries Palace in Paris on August 10, 1792.</p> + +<p>Avowed monarchists and such mild reformers and liberals as +Lafayette were thus excluded from power, and France became +a republic. But the final and critical defeat of the moderates +in France is better placed on June 2, 1793. In matters of this +sort, as in any splitting up of historical events into periods, +there may be legitimate differences of interpretation. Conservatives, +moderates, and radicals and extremists are not in any of +our societies absolutely clear-cut and definite groups, nor is the +transference of power from one to another very often a single +event agreed upon by all to be such. You may feel that no +moderate could have voted the end of the French monarchy. +None the less it would seem that the right wing of the republicans, +known to history as the Girondins, and to their contemporaries +as the Brissotins, were really moderates upon whom +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>circumstances forced actions to them disagreeably radical and +extreme. Notably they did not wish the death of the King. +They were mostly prosperous bourgeois, lawyers and intellectuals, +and after the trial of the King in January, 1793, they became +very sure that the revolution had gone far enough, that +it ought to be stopped. Whatever their past, they had now +become moderates. By the early months of 1793 they had lost +control of the Paris Jacobin Club and with it most of the other +revolutionary clubs and the whole network of organizations +which had helped the radicals achieve their ends in the early +days of the revolution. They could not command the support +of the hesitating and more or less neutral mass of deputies in +the Convention who were called the Plain. Their enemies were +better organized, more aggressive, and perhaps more unscrupulous. +They were certainly more successful.</p> + +<p>Just as with the Presbyterians in England, there came the +demand that these now moderate leaders be excluded from the +Convention and brought under arrest. In a test of strength in +the Convention on June 2, 1793, the extremists took care to +surround the meeting-place of that body with sympathetic +Parisian militiamen, back of whom assembled a large and hostile +crowd. The Convention tried to stand on their representative +dignity and to refuse to permit the arrest of the twenty-two +members demanded by the Mountain. Headed by their +president, they solemnly marched out to ensure that their position +be respected as the embodiment of the will of the people. +The deputies made the circuit of the gardens, finding an unyielding +row of bayonets at every gate, and a “people” with a +temporary will of its own. They returned indoors and voted the +arrest of the twenty-two Girondins. The radical Montagnards +were now in undisputed command.</p> + +<p>Events moved rather faster in Russia, but their sequence is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>almost identical with those in England and in France. The first +provisional government headed nominally by Prince Lvov, +really by Miliukov, was made up mostly of Kadets, the left +wing of middle-class groups in the old Duma, but no more +than “progressives,” “liberals,” or “democrats” in Western political +terminology. There were several representatives of more +conservative groups, and only one Socialist, Kerensky. After a +life of less than two months, this government broke down over +the question of continuing an “imperialist” war on the side of +the allies. Miliukov was forced out for too great compliance +with the imperialism of the allies, and a number of Mensheviks +and Social-Revolutionaries accepted positions in the new government. +In July Kerensky took the formal leadership after a +crisis, and in September the Kadets finally withdrew altogether, +leaving Kerensky at the head of a very shaky moderate Socialist +government.</p> + +<p>The Socialists who thus consented to co-operate with bourgeois +governments in the prosecution of the war were christened +by the Bolsheviks “compromisist.” Such Socialists came +from almost all the fractions into which this political faith had +split in twentieth-century Russia, where the usual doctrinal differences +within Marxism were complicated by those which +looked back into Russian history for a peculiarly deep-seated +Slavic village-communism. In the specific Russian situation, +these Social-Revolutionaries, Trudoviks, Narodniks, Mensheviks, +must be called moderates. They did not hope to introduce +the dictatorship of the proletariat. They wanted to win +the war, and they were willing to make use of parliamentary +methods to secure social reforms. They had long been distrustful +of the Kadets, but under the pressure of events they consented +to co-operate with them. The Kadets themselves suffered +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>the fate of the Puritan Episcopalians and the Feuillants; +they were pushed out by their collaborators to the Left.</p> + +<p>The Bolsheviks refused to take part in any of these governments. +They insisted that the bourgeois revolution of February +must sooner or later be followed by the proletarian revolution +Marx had preached and predicted. Lenin, who returned from +a Swiss exile in April to enjoy a few months of bourgeois freedom, +decided that the proletarian revolution might be brought +off in Russia. His party was by no means unanimously agreed, +but his leadership kept the small band together, and the blunders +of the compromisists, together with the heritage of defeat +and disorganization, played into his hands. In July a premature +rising of workers in Petrograd was apparently given local and +reluctant leadership by some of the party, and its failure sent +Lenin into hiding, and Trotsky and Lunacharsky to prison. +The subsequent swing of the pendulum to the Right ended +with the abortive attempt of General Kornilov to march on +Petrograd, and in this whole process the Bolsheviks gradually +acquired new courage and a new following. Lenin from hiding +held a guiding hand. Trotsky was released, and elected president +of a Petrograd soviet now in Bolshevik control. Lenin, +back secretly in Petrograd, presided at a final meeting of the +party Central Committee, and an insurrection was decided +upon. In a masterly exhibition of revolutionary technique, a +military revolution committee made sure of the Petrograd garrison, +other groups contrived to hamstring the press and communications, +and on the agreed day the Bolsheviks took over +Petrograd with astonishingly little difficulty and almost no +bloodshed. Even the siege of the Winter Palace, which forms +the high point of the uprising, has a comic-opera touch. The +October revolution in Petrograd was almost as bloodless as +Pride’s Purge or June 2, 1793, the corresponding events in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>English and French revolutions. In Moscow there was real +fighting, but there, too, the Bolsheviks were successful within +a week. Kerensky fled, and the rule of the moderates in Russia +was over.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_161"><em>III. Dual Sovereignty</em></h3> + +<p>The Russian revolution affords the neatest example of a uniformity +that lies beyond the somewhat superficial uniformity +of sequence of power from conservatives to moderates to extremists, +from Right to Center to Left. This is at once an institution +and a process; or better, a process that works through a +very similar set of institutions. Theorists and historians of the +Russian revolution refer to it as the <i lang="ru">dvoevlastie</i>, a word usually +translated as dual power, but containing overtones that make it +better translated, perhaps, as dual sovereignty. We must go +briefly into the general situation to which this word refers.</p> + +<p>The problem of sovereignty has long been in itself sufficient +to keep hundreds of political philosophers busy and happy. +Here once more, having other work to do, we must resign ourselves +to abstention from these philosophical delights. In a +normal Western society, it may well be difficult or impossible +to locate any one person, or group of persons, who possesses +the final, authoritative power to decide questions concerning +what the society is to do. The pluralists would seem to be, +from the point of view of description of social processes, quite +right. Even the broader political policies of a modern state +seem to be arrived at by so elaborately natural a process of +adjusting the desires of conflicting groups, that to say that a +single and identifiable “sovereign” determines these policies is +nonsense. And yet in a normal society there is at least one +co-ordinated chain of institutions through which conflicting +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>groups do finally adjust their conflicts, for the moment at least, +in action. That co-ordination may seem inefficient and irrational +when academically analyzed, and it may well be so complicated +that even the politicians who make it work do not +understand it. For men are as often as not unaware of how +they do things they do very successfully.</p> + +<p>But it does work, and through it questions at issue are decided—or +forgotten, which is also a kind of deciding. Those +who do not like the decision may try to alter it by a very great +variety of action, from agitation to conspiracy or sabotage. Socially +powerful or numerous groups may under favoring conditions +even go so far as to nullify a given decision: the example +of the Eighteenth Amendment in the United States will occur +to everyone. On the whole, however, the decisions become law, +and overt disobedience becomes criminal.</p> + +<p>When another and conflicting chain of institutions provides +another and conflicting set of decisions, then you have a dual +sovereignty. Within the same society, two sets of institutions, +leaders, and laws demand obedience, not in one single respect, +but in the whole interwoven series of actions which make up +life for the average man. Thus the nullification of the Prohibition +Amendment by many citizens over large areas of the +United States did not in itself mean that there was in this +country a revolutionary situation of dual sovereignty. Were a +similar nullification extended by, let us say, a strengthened +amalgamation of the American Federation of Labor and the +Committee for Industrial Organization from the Fourteenth +Amendment on through to the common law of property; were +this amalgamation to enforce laws of its own on workers in +factories; were it to take over many of the functions of local +government in relation to markets, sanitation, police, and so +on—we should clearly have dual sovereignty. We should, as a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>matter of fact, have a state of affairs something like that in +Russia in the summer of 1917.</p> + +<p>In <em>all</em> our revolutions, however, the legal government finds +opposed to it, once the first steps in actual revolution have +been taken, not merely hostile individuals and parties—this any +government finds—but a rival government, better organized, +better staffed, better obeyed. This rival government is of course +illegal, but not all of its leaders and followers are from the beginning +consciously aiming to supplant the legal government. +Very often they think of themselves as merely supplementing +it, perhaps also as preserving it in a revolutionary course. Yet +a rival government they are, and no mere critics or opponents. +At a given revolutionary crisis they step naturally and easily +into the place of the defeated government.</p> + +<p>This process does indeed work itself out in the old regimes +before the first steps in revolution are taken. Puritans in England, +Whigs in America, Third Estate in France, the Kadets +and compromisist Socialists in Russia, all had organizations +that demanded their allegiance and that enabled them to fight +the old regime with revolution at least in the back of their +minds. But the process is much more clear, more sharply edged—except +perhaps in America—at the stage we have now +reached.</p> + +<p>Once the first stage in revolution is over, the struggle that +arises between moderates and extremists comes to be a struggle +between two rival governmental machines. That of the moderates, +the legal government, bar inherited some of the prestige +that goes with being established, some of the financial resources—actual +or potential—of the old government, most of +its liabilities, all of its institutions. Try to alter these latter as +it may, it finds them annoyingly persistent, extremely difficult +to blot out. The legal government is unpopular with many +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>just because it is an obvious and responsible government, because +it has to shoulder some of the unpopularity of the government +of the old regime.</p> + +<p>The illegal government of the extremists, however, has to +face no such difficulties. It has the prestige which recent +events have given to attackers, to those who can claim to be +in the forefront of the revolution. It has, as governments go, +relatively few responsibilities. It does not have to try to use, +if only temporarily, the worn-out machinery, the institutions +of the old regime. It has, on the contrary, for the moment the +great advantage of using the efficient machinery gradually constructed +by the revolutionists, both moderates and extremists, +from the time when they began under the old regime to +emerge as a pressure group. Indeed, the final capture of this +machinery—or this organization, if you prefer—seems to be +what really determines the final victory of the extremists over +the moderates, long before that final victory is apparent in +events. Why the moderates do not keep control of the organization +they have done so much to initiate and to mold is a +question that permits of no simple answer. We may hope that +some answer will emerge from a more detailed study of the +fate of the moderates. We must first, however, see how well +the foregoing analysis fits the facts in our four revolutions.</p> + +<p>Charles and the Long Parliament were clearly dual sovereigns +from the actual outbreak of hostilities in 1642 if not +from the very first session of 1640. Once the Civil War was +decided against Charles, Parliament, under the control of the +moderates, found itself the legal government. But almost immediately +it was confronted by the radical New Model Army, +which very soon began to take the kind of action that in this +world only a government can take. The fact that Charles was +still on the scene and the existence of the Scotch Army complicated +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>the situation in the three or four years before the execution +of Charles in 1649, but the broad lines of the duel +between the newly legal government of the Presbyterian moderates +in Parliament and the illegal government of the extremist +Independents in the New Model Army are clear.</p> + +<p>In America this dual sovereignty is most obvious in the years +before the final break in 1776. The lines between the legal and +the illegal government were obscured, especially in a colony +like Massachusetts, by the fact that town meetings and colonial +legislatures were part of the legal government, but were often +controlled by men active in the illegal government. None the +less, the machinery which culminated in the continental congresses—in +themselves illegal bodies—was clearly used by revolutionists +against constituted authority.</p> + +<p>While the moderates in France, the Feuillants, or constitutional +monarchists, still controlled the legislative body and the +formal machinery of the centralized state, their increasingly +republican opponents controlled the network of Jacobin societies +which made up the frame of the other, or illegal, government. +Through their control of these societies they worked into +the control of many of the units of local government, and from +this position of vantage were able to expel the Feuillant moderates +and destroy the monarchy. The process was then repeated +with the Girondin moderates controlling the legislative +body and the Montagnard extremists controlling the important +units of the Jacobin network and at least one exceedingly important +local governmental unit—the Paris Commune. In the +crisis of June 2, 1793, the illegal government again won out +over the legal.</p> + +<p>In Russia the <i lang="ru">dvoevlastie</i> is plain. The provisional government +which emerged from the February revolution had through +its connection with the Duma some claim to legitimacy. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>Though it absorbed more and more Socialists of various stripes +in the next six months, thus exhibiting the leftward movement +we have found in all our societies, it remained moderate +and quite conscious of its legality. On the other side the Bolsheviks +and a few allied radical groups had by late summer +obtained control of the network of soviets and stood as an +illegal government facing the legal one. Soviet means no more +than “council” and had originally in Russia no more connotations +than its English equivalent has for us. The soviets were +local councils of trade-unionists, soldiers, sailors, peasants, and +suitable intellectuals. They sprang up naturally enough with +the dissolution of the Czarist power in 1917, all the more since +memories of the abortive revolution of 1905, which had also +made use of the soviet form, were fresh in the minds of everyone. +The Bolsheviks, wisely concentrating on the soviets while +the attention of the compromisists was increasingly taken by +participation in the legal government, were able to wrest control +of key soviets in Petrograd, Moscow, and major industrial +towns from the compromisists. There is here a curious detailed +parallel with the French revolution. The final insurrectionary +victory of the Bolsheviks was achieved without complete control +of the general network of soviets, just as that of the +Montagnards was achieved without control of the whole network +of Jacobin clubs. In each case control of the most important +units of the illegal government was sufficient.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_166"><em>IV. Weaknesses of the Moderates</em></h3> + +<p>At this stage in revolution, then, the moderates in control +of the formal machinery of government are confronted by the +extremists in control of machinery devised for propaganda, +pressure-group work, even insurrection, but now increasingly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>used as machinery of government. This stage ends with the +triumph of the extremists and the merging of the dual sovereignty +into a single one. We must now inquire into the reasons +for the failure of the moderates in these revolutions to +hold power.</p> + +<p>There is first the paradox we have previously noted, that in +the early stages of revolution the control of the machinery of +government is in itself a source of weakness for those who hold +such control. Little by little the moderates find themselves losing +the credit they had gained as opponents of the old regime, +and taking on more and more of the discredit innocently associated +by the hopeful many with the status of heir to the old +regime. Forced on the defensive, they make mistake after mistake, +partly because they are so little used to being on the defensive. +They are in a position from which only a superhuman +wisdom could extricate them; and the moderates are among +the most human of revolutionaries.</p> + +<p>Faced with the opposition of more radical groups organized +in the network we have called the illegal government, the moderates +have broadly but three choices: they may try to suppress +the illegal government; they may try to get control of +it themselves; or they may let it alone. Actually their policy +shifts around among these three policies, combining one with +another; in these circumstances, the net effect is to produce a +fourth policy, which amounts to a positive encouragement of +their enemies in the illegal government.</p> + +<p>In the revolutions we are studying the moderates are particularly +handicapped in their efforts to suppress these enemy +organizations. The revolutions were all made in the name of +freedom, were all associated with what the Marxists call a +bourgeois individualistic ideology. The moderates found themselves +obliged to observe certain “rights” of their enemies—notably +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>those of freedom of speech, of the press, of assembly. +What is more, many if not most of the moderates sincerely +believed in such rights, held that truth is great and will prevail. +Had it not just prevailed against the tyranny of the old +regime? Even when under pressure the moderate begins to try +to suppress an extremist newspaper, forbid an extremist meeting, +jail a few extremist leaders, his conscience troubles him. +More important, any unsuppressed extremists raise a mighty +howl. The moderates are betraying the revolution; they are +using exactly the same methods the villainous tyrants of the +old regime had used.</p> + +<p>The Russian revolution is here an excellent example. The +Kadets and compromisists between February and October +could not conveniently suppress Bolshevik propaganda, nor +indeed any form of Bolshevik political activity. When they +tried to do so after a premature Bolshevik rising, the street +troubles in Petrograd known as the “July Days,” they were met +by protests from all sorts of people, including notably the Bolsheviks. +This was despotism, this was Czarism of the worst sort. +Had not the February revolution brought political freedom, +freedom of the press and association, to Russia forever? Kerensky +mustn’t make use of the kind of weapons the Czars had +used. In 1938 Stalin of course can use methods worthy of Peter +the Great or Ivan the Terrible, but that is only to say that the +Russian revolution is over. In 1917, however, even had Kerensky +been the sort of man who could successfully organize repressive +measures—and he plainly was not that sort of man—what +we are bound to call public opinion would not in those +days have permitted the execution of such measures. Much the +same situation is to be found in France, where the Jacobins +were permitted free speech and free association, and firmly and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>publicly insisted on their rights as free men to get ready for a +dictatorship.</p> + +<p>Nor are the moderates more successful in their attempts to get—or +rather to retain—control of the machinery which they +and the extremists had jointly built up as a means of overthrowing +the old regime. For this there seems to be no single +preponderant reason. The moderates are, of course, occupied +with a good deal of the work of actual governing, and they +have less time for army committees or Jacobin clubs or soviet +meetings. They feel themselves perhaps a trifle superior to +such activity. They are temperamentally unfitted for the +rougher and dirtier work of the politics of direct action. They +have moral scruples. They are not quite the noble souls historical +legend makes out the Girondin moderates in the French +revolution to have been; indeed many of them, like Brissot and +Kerensky, have a good many of the gifts of the political manipulator. +But they are in power, and they seem to set about quite +naturally cultivating the sober virtues that go with power. Such +virtues, however, make them inadequate leaders of militant +revolutionary societies.</p> + +<p>Whatever the explanation, the fact of the uniformity is +clear. This particular failure of the moderates is well shown +in the French revolution. The Jacobin network of societies of +“Friends of the Constitution” was in its inception hardly to +the Left of Lafayette and his friends. When, however, it began +to move further to the Left the Fayettists made a few feeble +efforts to retain control, and then went off and founded their +own society, the Feuillants. The Feuillants, however, could not +spread beyond narrow upper-class and intellectual Parisian circles. +Later groups founded here and there throughout the +country as “Friends of the Monarchy,” or “Friends of Peace,” +tried to compete with the Jacobins, but with very little luck. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>If they gave bread to the poor, the Jacobins cried out that they +were attempting bribery. If they did nothing, the Jacobins +complained that they lacked social conscience. Finally the +Jacobins worked out a fairly systematic procedure. They would +hire a few hoodlums—sometimes it was not necessary to hire +them—to break up a meeting of the rival Friends of Peace, and +would then send a deputation to the municipal authorities asking +that the Friends of Peace be closed as a public nuisance. +The authorities were either Jacobins themselves, or more afraid +of the Jacobins than of the Friends of Peace, so that the matter +received a suitable revolutionary solution.</p> + +<p>Similarly the Presbyterians found themselves powerless to +control the spread of Independency, not only in the army, but +in local parishes. And in Russia the compromisists found the +Bolsheviks formidable in all the important soviets. A detailed +study of the Petrograd soviet from February to October will +show how cleverly the party of Lenin took advantage of every +mistake of its opponents, how successfully it burrowed from +within, spreading its control from factory soviets on up until +finally the city soviet was captured. Such a study will also show +the compromisists gradually losing ground, in spite of the +great oratorical gifts of leaders like Tseretelli, Chkheidze and +Kerensky.</p> + +<p>There is, indeed, an almost organic weakness in the position +of the moderates. They are placed between two groups, the +disgruntled but not yet silenced conservatives and the confident, +aggressive extremists. There are still freedom of speech +and the other political rights, so that even conservatives have +a voice. Now the moderates seem in all these revolutions to +be following the slogan used so conspicuously for French +politics of the <i lang="fr">Cartel des Gauches</i> in 1924: no enemies to the +Left. They still distrust the conservatives, against whom they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>have so recently risen; and they are reluctant to admit that +the extremists, with whom they so recently stood united, can +actually be their enemies. All the force of the ideas and sentiments +with which the moderates entered the revolution give +them a sort of twist toward the Left. Emotionally they cannot +bear to think of themselves as falling behind in the revolutionary +process. Moreover, many of them hope to outbid the +extremists for popular support, to beat them at their own +game. But only in normal times can you trust in the nice +smooth clichés of politics like “beat them at their own game.” +The moderates fail by this policy of “no enemies to the Left” +to reconcile these enemies to the Left; and they make it quite +impossible to rally to their support any of the not yet quite +negligible conservatives. Then, after the moderates get thoroughly +frightened about the threatening attitude of the extremists, +they turn for help to the conservatives, and find there +just aren’t any. They have emigrated, or retired to the country, +hopeless and martyred in spirit. Needless to say, a martyred conservative +is no longer a conservative, but only another maladjusted +soul. This last turn of theirs towards the conservatives, +however, finishes the moderates. Alone, unsupported in control +of a government as yet by no means in assured and habitual +control of a personnel, civil or military, they succumb easily to +insurrection. It is significant that Pride’s Purge, the French +crisis of June 2, 1793, and the Petrograd October revolution +were all hardly more than <i lang="fr">coups d’état</i>.</p> + +<p>In the English, French, and Russian revolutions it is possible +to distinguish one critical measure around which all these currents +converge, a measure which, espoused by the moderates, +cuts them off from support on the Right and leaves the radicals +in a position to use this very measure against its authors. +Such are the Root-and-Branch Bill in the English, the Civil +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>Constitution of the Clergy in the French, and Order Number +One in the Russian, revolutions.</p> + +<p>The Root-and-Branch Bill originated in a petition with +15,000 signatures presented to the House of Commons late in +1640, asking for the abolition of Episcopacy “with all its roots +and branches.” Naturally the moderate Episcopalians, from +Hyde and Falkland to Digby, were against a measure which +destroyed their Church; and just as naturally the Presbyterians +were inclined to favor it. It is possible that politically minded +moderates like Pym might have left the bill alone, but the refusal +of the bishops to give up their seats in the House of +Lords seems to have determined Pym to support the bill. This +espousal made almost every Episcopalian a Royalist, and when +the Civil War broke out in 1642 the Presbyterians were +stranded on the extreme Right of the party groupings within +the region controlled by the Parliamentarians. They could find +no possible allies except to the Left. The Independents—and +Cromwell had first actually introduced the Root-and-Branch +Bill to the House—could now argue that presbyters were no +better than bishops, that the reasons which held for the abolition +of one held incontrovertibly for the abolition of the other. +Later, when the moderates proved incapable of carrying the +war to a successful conclusion, measures like the Self-Denying +Ordinance and the creation of the New Model Army had to +be accepted by a Presbyterian majority which yet was not by +any means a commanding majority, and which had left itself +with no possibility of conservative support.</p> + +<p>The Civil Constitution of the Clergy emerged after months +of discussion in the National Assembly as a charter for renewed +Christianity in France. The moderates who put it through +seem mostly to have been sincere men, bad Catholics in some +ways, perhaps, but rather because they had absorbed some of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>the practical worldly spirit of the age than because they were +outright anti-clericals. Yet their measure alienated the good +Catholics and merely encouraged the violent anti-clericals to +try to root out the “vile superstitions” of Christianity altogether. +The Civil Constitution in all innocence provided for +the election of parish priests by the same local electoral bodies +that chose lay officials for the new government positions, and +for the election of bishops by the same departmental body that +elected representatives to the Legislative Assembly. It scrapped +all the historic dioceses of old France, and substituted nice, +nearly uniform dioceses identical with the new <i lang="fr">départements</i> +into which France was governmentally divided. It did consent +to “notify” the Pope of such elections.</p> + +<p>Since the property of the Church as a corporation had been +taken over to serve as security for the new paper money of the +revolution, the <i lang="fr">assignats</i>, the State was to support the expenses +of the clergy under the new constitution. The election of +priests and bishops by bodies to which Protestants, Jews, and +avowed atheists were eligible was so completely uncanonical +that no Pope could for a moment have considered accepting +it. Although there was the usual diplomatic delay, the break +between the Pope and the revolutionary government was inevitable, +and with it the powerful and conservative group of +Catholics was forced irreconcilably into opposition. A schism +began which extended to every village in the land. But the new +Constitutional Church was hardly more acceptable to the real +radicals than the old Orthodox Church, and as the critical days +of the Terror drew nearer the moderates found themselves saddled +with the protection of a church which returned them no +important support.</p> + +<p>Order Number One emerged from no such long debate as +did the Root-and-Branch Bill and the Civil Constitution of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>the Clergy. Indeed, it is not quite fair to list it as a definite +measure sponsored by the moderates, though the soviet leader +most prominent in the group which prepared it was the +moderate N. D. Sokolov, and the compromisists energetically +promulgated it. The Order emerged in the very last days of +the February revolution from the headquarters of the Petrograd +soviet. It was addressed to the army, and in addition to +the usual revolutionary measures towards a standing army of the +old regime—abolition of salutes, social and political equality of +privates with officers, and so on—it provided for elected company +and battalion committees which were to have entire +charge of arms, above all of those of officers; and it ordered +that every military unit obey the soviets in political matters. +The military committee of the Duma might be obeyed in +military matters, provided the soviet did not object in a specific +case. The Order was devised primarily with the Petrograd +garrison in mind, but its main provisions were rapidly taken +up at the front. This order at once convinced the conservatives +that there was nothing to be hoped for from the revolution, +and put even the more liberal officers in a state of mind to +welcome later attempts at a conservative <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i>. It made +the subsequent task of the moderates in bringing Russia back +to military efficiency for the war on Germany more difficult +than ever. And it by no means served to reconcile the soldiers +themselves with the continuation of the war. Most of the popularity +of Order Number One eventually redounded to the +credit of the Bolsheviks; most of its unpopularity came back +on the compromisists. This is the typical fate of the moderates +in these revolutions.</p> + +<p>Again, the moderates are in all our societies confronted +sooner or later with the task of fighting a war; and they prove +poor war leaders. In England the fighting broke out in 1642, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>and before the first Civil War was over Cromwell and the Independents +had made themselves indispensable, and were on +the threshold of power. Foreign war in France broke out in +the spring of 1792, and a few months later the monarchy had +fallen; the war went very badly in the spring of 1793, and in +June the moderate Girondins, who had on the French side +been the most eager for war, were turned out by the Montagnards. +The Russian revolution was born in the midst of a disastrous +war, and the Russian moderates never had a chance at +peaceful administration. The fact is clear. The moderates cannot +seem to succeed in war. The reasons why are less clear. No +doubt the commitment of the moderates to protect the liberties +of the individual is a factor. You cannot organize an army +if you take Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity at all seriously.</p> + +<p>Modern wars seem to carry with them the necessity for organizing +civil government along military lines, for the exercise +of strong, centralized governmental authority in which the liberty +of the individual is far from a matter of first concern, in +which there is very little debate, very little of the government +by discussion so prized by the moderates, very little compromise +and moderation. War, said Madison, is the mother of +executive aggrandizement, and even here in America our wars +have borne him out. But in the midst of a revolution the executive +that gets aggrandized is not the moderate executive. The +Reigns of Terror in France and in Russia are in part explicable +as the concentration of power in a government of national defense +made necessary by the fact of war. This is by no means +a complete explanation of the Reigns of Terror. But certainly +the necessity for a strong centralized government to run the +war is one of the reasons why the moderates failed. They simply +could not provide the discipline, the enthusiasm, the unpondered +loyalty necessary to fight a war, and they went out.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span></p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_176"><em>V. The Failure of the Moderates</em></h3> + +<p>To the kindly souls who for the most part wrote the history +from which we get our notions of modern revolutions, this +failure of the moderates was a great tragedy. The moderates +appear as good men worsted by circumstances and unscrupulous +opponents. They seem to be idealists crushed by a harsh +world, but thereby sure of the resurrection history holds out to +the just. The gentle Falkland and the scholarly Condorcet +smile down upon us from the only heaven to which mere mortals +hold the key; and if historians have not yet admitted +Kerensky into their heaven, the reason may be no more than +that the poor man is still inescapably here on earth.</p> + +<p>Perhaps most of the moderates would be better or at least +more normal men than their extremist opponents. Yet, leaders +and led together, they make a motley lot, by no means easily +catalogued by Marxist or by psychologist. And the traditional +notion that they were idealists and that they failed because in +the rough give-and-take the idealist must always fail is here +peculiarly misleading. It is more accurate to risk the paradox: +they failed because they were in so many respects what is +usually called realists; that is, some of them were reasonably +well adapted to a common-sense world.</p> + +<p>Pym and Mirabeau, who died peacefully before the defeat +of the moderates was evident, still enjoy reputations as skilled +politicians, as sensible moderates. Over most of the others there +hangs something of the kind of reputation most definite and +clear with Kerensky. The eloquent compromisist leader seems +to us a man of words, an orator who could move crowds but +could not guide them, an impractical and incompetent person +in the field of action. The Gironde seems much the same, as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>also the lesser Presbyterian leaders like Holles. It seems emptily +paradoxical to list these people as realists. Yet realists of a kind +they were. They used grand words and phrases grandly, as a +consolation and a joy to their listeners and to themselves. But +they did not believe in them as the radicals believed in them; +they did not intend to try to pursue them to their logical +conclusions in action. They were, in short, using words in the +way most men in normal societies, including such realistic +politicians as Gladstone, use them. They would not seem +realists to a hard-headed horse-trader. But within the limits +which tradition and ritual have set for the work of such people +as they—part priest, part administrator, part actor, part teacher—they +were good quiet practitioners.</p> + +<p>But the times were turned topsy-turvy, and as the crisis of +the revolution approached, only the man with a touch—or +more—of fanatic idealism in him, or at least with the ability to +act the part of such a fanatic, could attain to leadership. The +normal social roles of realism and idealism are reversed in the +acute phases of a revolution. We shall return to this topic in +our next chapter. Here we need only note that the outward +evidences of the approach of this kind of crisis appear as a +heightened form of class antagonism. The moderates by definition +are not great haters, are not endowed with the effective +blindness which keeps men like Robespierre and Lenin undistracted +in their rise to power. In normal times, ordinary men +are not capable of feeling for groups of their fellow-men hatred +as intense, continuous, and uncomfortable as that preached by +the extremists in revolution. Hatred is a heroic emotion, and +heroic emotions are exhausting. The poor may hate the rich, +the Protestant the Catholic, the bourgeois the noble, the +Southerner the Yankee, and so on endlessly. But this hate is +normally in human beings a routine and consoling hate, a part +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>of life, like food, drink, and loving, integrated with an existence +as alien to the possibility of revolution as that of a vegetable.</p> + +<p>The moderates, then, do not really believe in the big words +they have to use. They do not really believe a heavenly perfection +is suddenly coming to men on earth. They are all for compromise, +common sense, toleration, comfort. In a normal society, +these desires are part of their strength and give them their +hold over their fellows, who share at least their desire for comfort. +But in these three revolutions large numbers of men were +for the moment lifted by desire and emotion to a point where +they seemed to despise even comfort. The moderates could not +deal politically with such men; they could not take the first +steps which are necessary if such men are to be understood. +The moderates were cut off from the immoderates by a gap +neither philosophy nor common sense could fill. There is an +adage that in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is +king. In one of his subtler short stories, <cite>The Kingdom of the +Blind</cite>, Mr. H. G. Wells has exposed the weakness of this +apothegm. In the heat of a violent revolution, its weakness is +perhaps even more apparent than in the imaginary Andean +valley of Mr. Wells’s tale. The moderates we have been dealing +with were all very human and very fallible; but even had they +been as wise as the heroes of Plutarch, as wise as Washington, +it would seem that they must have failed. For we are here in +a land fabulous, but real, where the wisdom and common sense +of the moderate are not wisdom and common sense, but folly.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_six"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">six</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">THE ACCESSION OF THE EXTREMISTS</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_179"><em>I. The</em> Coup d’état</h3> + +<p class="dropcap">The struggle between the moderates and the extremists, +which begins almost as soon as the dramatic +overthrow of the old regime is effected, is marked by a series +of exciting episodes: here street-fighting, there a forced seizure +of property, almost everywhere heated debates, attempted repressions, +a steady stream of violent propaganda. Tempers are +strained to the breaking point over matters that in a stable society +are capable of an almost automatic solution. There is an +almost universal state of tension. The fever is working its way +to a crisis. As with many fevers, its progress is in detail jerky, +with now an apparent improvement and then a sudden jump +ahead. But the cumulative effect is unmistakable. With the +final overthrow of the moderates the revolution may be said to +have entered its crisis stage.</p> + +<p>Before we attempt to describe the behavior of men in societies +in such a crisis, we shall have to go a bit further into the +process by which the extremists acceded to power. In a sense, +such an analysis will be but pointing out in reverse what we +have already said of the moderates: the reasons why the extremists +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>succeeded are but the other side of the reasons why +the moderates failed. Where the moderates were weak, the +extremists were strong. The actual steps by which the extremists +rise to power are, however, too important to be left with this +general statement. We must parallel our analysis of moderate +weaknesses with an analysis of extremist strengths.</p> + +<p>The extremists win out because they secure control of the +illegal government and turn it in a decisive <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i> against +the legal government. The problem of the dual sovereignty is +solved by the revolutionary acts in which the Independents, +the Jacobins, and the Bolsheviks seized power. But the moderates +had once shared with them the control of the organizations +which they had turned against the government. The key +to the success of the extremists lies in their monopoly of these +organizations—New Model Army and Independent churches, +Jacobin clubs, and soviets.</p> + +<p>They obtain this monopoly by ousting, usually in a series of +conflicts, any and all opponents from these organizations. The +discipline, single-mindedness, and centralization of authority +which mark the rule of the triumphant extremists are first developed +and brought to perfection in the revolutionary groups. +The characteristics which were formed in the growth of the +illegal government remain those of the radicals after the illegal +government becomes the legal. Indeed, many of these useful +characteristics were first molded even further back in the days +of the old regime, when the extremists were very small concentrated +groups subject to the full “tyranny” of the government. +The Independents gained discipline and devotion from +a long series of persecutions which began under Elizabeth, +whose famed love of tolerance was not extended to Catholics +or Brownists. The French radicals were not as badly treated +under the old regime as their descendants and historians like +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>to think, but the censorship, the Bastille, and the <i lang="fr">lettres de +cachet</i> were real enough, even if they rarely fell to the lot of +the rank and file of the enlightened. As for Russia, its extremists +were molded in the most melodramatic traditions of oppression, +were backed by almost a century of secret organization, +plotting, oaths, and martyrdom.</p> + +<p>What emerges from this longer past and from the recent +conflict with the moderates is a fighting group with the newly +acquired habit of winning. You cannot say exactly why a given +football team succeeds in winning most of the time, let alone +why an army or a revolutionary party wins. The variables are +so many even in the simplest case that no sensible man would +make predictions based wholly on the most apparent and perhaps +most important variable of all—the quality of the human +material. Gamblers know this, if historians and sociologists do +not. That our revolutionists were successful and admirably organized +groups we know, and we can make some attempt to +point out in what ways they succeeded, what particular kinds +of strength they exhibited. We cannot give any neat formula +for success in building a revolutionary group, cannot measure +exactly why <em>these</em> revolutionists succeeded and others failed.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_181"><em>II. Organization of the Extremists</em></h3> + +<p>The first thing likely to strike an observer of the successful +extremists in the English, French, and Russian revolutions, and +indeed, the not quite so radical patriots who put through the +American revolution, is their fewness in numbers. The membership +of the formal organizations which did the work of +beating the moderates was never more than a small minority +of the total population. Their active membership was of course +always smaller than the membership on the books. It is not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>easy to get exact figures, whether for membership or for populations, +but the following figures are not erroneous enough to +be misleading. The New Model Army was created at a membership +of 22,000, and was not more than 40,000 in its most +obstreperous days. The population of England was somewhere +between three and five millions. The Jacobins at the most generous +estimate numbered in their struggle with the moderates +about 500,000. The population of France was probably over +rather than under twenty millions. The Communist party in +Russia has always prided itself on its numerical smallness; this +is no unwieldy bourgeois party, full of indifferent members +who cast a lazy vote, or don’t even vote at all. Figures again +are uncertain, but it seems likely that at no time during the +revolution did the Communist party number even 1 per cent +of a population of well over one hundred million. In America +the difficulty of even approximate figures is greater, since the +patriots were not organized into a single body. It is clearly not +fair to take the relatively small continental armies as exactly +measuring the strength of the patriot—or Whig—group. Nevertheless, +the best authorities are agreed that if you count out +avowed Tories and the very numerous indifferent or neutral, +the group which actively engineered, supported, and fought the +American revolution is a minority, probably not more than 10 +per cent of the population.</p> + +<p>It is easy to remark that though the facts clearly show that +these revolutionary groups are very small minorities indeed, all +politically active groups are minorities, and that in these revolutions +the radicals in some way “represented” or “carried out” +what the soul, will, genius, of their nations demanded. This +may well be so in terms familiar to the metaphysician, but the +relation involved is one which at present we cannot pretend to +be able to study by the methods we have laid down in this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>book. Perhaps the Jacobins were the agents of the general will +of the French people; but the general will is a metaphysical +concept the relation of which with tangible Jacobins we cannot +possibly measure here.</p> + +<p>Trotsky in one of his less realistic moods has a fine time +reconciling the fewness of the Bolsheviks in 1917 with the +largeness of Russia, and with the various groups clearly hostile +to the Bolsheviks. “The Bolsheviks,” he writes, “took the people +as preceding history had created them, and as they were +called to achieve the Revolution. The Bolsheviks saw it as their +mission to stand at the head of this people. <em>Those against the +insurrection were ‘everybody’—except the Bolsheviks. But the +Bolsheviks were the people.</em>” Here again “everybody” in quotation +marks is obviously different from everybody without +quotation marks; and though we can as scientists, perhaps, +make use of everybody, we can do nothing at all with “everybody.”</p> + +<p>We can, however, say that in all our societies these radicals +were very conscious, and usually very proud, of their small +numbers. They felt definitely set off from their countrymen, +consecrated to a cause which their countrymen were certainly +not consciously and actively equal to. Some of the radicals may +have satisfied themselves that they really represented the better +selves of their fellow-countrymen, that they were the reality of +which the others were the potentiality. But here and now they +were very sure that they were superior to the inert and flabby +many. The English saints of the seventeenth century, the elect +of a God more exclusive than any poor worldly king, made no +attempt to conceal their contempt for the damned masses—and +dukes and earls were of course masses for these determined +Puritans. The Jacobins inherited from the Enlightenment a +belief in the natural goodness or the natural reasonableness of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>the common man, and this belief put a limit to their expressed +scorn for their fellows. But the scorn is there, and the Jacobin +was almost as loftily consecrated as was the Independent. The +Bolsheviks were brought up to believe that dialectical materialism +works through an elite of the laboring classes, and that +the peasants in particular were incapable of working out their +own salvation. The Bolsheviks therefore took their fewness +naturally enough, and their superiority as well.</p> + +<p>There is also a good deal of evidence that as the revolutions +go on, a very large number of people just drop out of active +politics, make no attempt to register their votes. Now it may +be that most of these people again are at heart in sympathy +with the active radicals; but on the whole it looks as if most +of them were cowed conservatives or moderates, men and +women not anxious for martyrdom, but quite incapable of the +mental and moral as well as physical strain of being a devoted +extremist in the crisis of a revolution. We have very clear evidence +of this dropping out of the ordinary man in two of our +revolutions, and we may assume that it is one of the uniformities +we are seeking.</p> + +<p>In Russia, the February revolution brought in universal suffrage +as a matter of course. Russia had at last caught up with +the West. At the first elections almost everybody, men and +women alike, took the opportunity to vote in various local elections. +But very shortly there set in a noticeable decline in the +total number of votes cast. In the June, 1917, elections for the +Moscow district dumas the Social-Revolutionary groups received +58 per cent of the votes; in the September elections the +Bolsheviks received 52 per cent. A clear gain for the Bolsheviks +by democratic methods? Not at all. In June the Social-Revolutionaries +got 375,000 votes out of 647,000 cast; in September +the Bolsheviks got 198,000 out of 381,000 cast. In three months +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>half the electorate dropped out. Trotsky himself has a simple +explanation for this; “many small-town people who, in the +vapor of the first illusions, had joined the Compromisers fell +back soon after into political non-existence.” The same story is +graphically recorded in French municipal and national elections +between the rosy days of 1789, when everyone who could +stagger to the polls voted, and 1793, when in some cases less +than a tenth of the qualified voters actually voted. They did +not vote for Bolsheviks or Jacobins, and it seems more than +likely that if most Englishmen could have voted at all in 1648, +they would not have voted for Independents, Levellers, Diggers, +Fifth Monarchy Men, or Millenarians. The great numbers +of qualified voters just don’t vote; in Trotsky’s compact phrase, +they are politically non-existent.</p> + +<p>Their political non-existence is not achieved without a good +deal of help from the extremists. The elections are supposedly +free and open, but the extremists are not hindered by any beliefs +in freedom they may have expressed in other days. They +soon take to steps familiar in this country through the history +of groups like the Ku Klux Klan and Tammany Hall. They +beat up well-known aristocrats and such-like class enemies, they +start riots at polling places or in electoral assemblies, they break +windows and start street fights, they howl down moderate candidates, +they bring to bear good journalists, skilled at libel and +innuendo, and in a hundred ways which any realistic student of +politics can uncover with a little study, they make it very difficult +for ordinary, peaceful, humdrum men and women to go to +the polls and cast their votes for the moderates to whom ordinary, +peaceful, humdrum men and women seem attracted. Not +that terrorism alone scares off the ordinary man. Mere laziness, +an inability to give to political affairs the ceaseless attention +revolutions demand, is also instrumental in keeping the man in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>the street from expressing himself. He gets fed up with the +constant meetings, the deputations, the papers, the elections of +dog-catchers, general inspectors, presidents, the committees, the +rituals, the ceaseless moil and toil of self-government on a more +than Athenian basis. At any rate he quits, and the extremists +have the field to themselves.</p> + +<p>Their fewness is indeed one of the great sources of the +extremists’ strength. Great numbers are almost as unwieldy in +politics as on the battlefield. In the politics of revolutions +what counts is the ability to move swiftly, to make clear and +final decisions, to push through to a goal without regard for +injured human dispositions. For such a purpose the active political +group must be small. You cannot otherwise obtain the +single-mindedness and devotion, the energy and the discipline, +necessary to defeat the moderates. You cannot in large numbers +maintain the fever of fanaticism long enough to secure the +ultimate victory. The masses do not make revolutions. They +may be enlisted for some impressive pageantry once the active +few have won the revolution. Our contemporary revolutions, +both of the Right and the Left, have achieved apparent miracles +of mass participation. But the impressive demonstrations +the camera records in Germany and Russia ought not to deceive +the careful student of politics. Neither Bolshevik nor +Nazi victory over the moderates was achieved by the participation +of the many; both were achieved by small, disciplined, +principled, fanatical bodies.</p> + +<p>Nor at this stage of revolution do the victorious radicals +make use of the plebiscite. They do not dare risk anything like +a free election. Only later, when the crisis is followed by a +convalescence, by a return to normal ways, does the plebiscite +stage arrive. This interval may not be a very long one, and in +the case of Rightist revolutions may be very brief, since the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>full fury of the Ideal rarely inspires the men of the Right. But +certainly for the revolutions we are here studying, the generalization +holds: the plebiscite is absent from the struggle +between extremists and moderates, and is not used by the +extremists even after their accession to power.</p> + +<p>The extremists are not only few; they are fanatically devoted +to their cause. Their awareness of being few seems correlated +with the intensity of their fanaticism. One feeds upon and +strengthens the other. With their objects, with the content of +their dreams of a better world, we shall concern ourselves later. +For those who think that only in the service of a personal God +can feelings properly defined as “fanatical” be aroused, our +application of the word to Jacobins and Bolsheviks may seem +illegitimate. But this is surely an undue narrowing of a clear +and useful word. Bolsheviks and Jacobins were as convinced as +any Calvinist that they alone were right, that what they proposed +was the only possible course. All of our revolutionary +radicals displayed a willingness to work hard, to sacrifice their +peace and security, to submit to discipline, to submerge their +personalities in the group. They were all aware of the spiritual +difficulties of keeping “always at the height of revolutionary +circumstances,” as the Jacobins used to put it; but to a surprising +extent they overcame these difficulties and maintained on +this earth an <i lang="fr">esprit de corps</i>, an active moral union, that is far +beyond the powers of ordinary men in ordinary circumstances +to attain and to maintain.</p> + +<p>And they are disciplined. Partly, as we have explained, this +is an inheritance from their oppressed past. It correlates with +their fewness and with their fanatical strength. The New +Model Army is an excellent example. It defeated the haphazard +aggregations which the ordinary recruiting methods of +the Royalists opposed to it; it defeated the cream of the opposing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>forces, the cavalry recruited from faithful country gentlemen +and their dependents. The New Model was recruited +from ardent Puritans, vouched for by men who knew them; +and it was submitted to a brief but effective course of training +incomparably more severe than any that had yet been used in +English military history. The result was a fine army—and a +compact body of hard revolutionists who could cut through the +best intentions and the best rhetoric of the moderates. The +discipline of the Jacobins was not military, but it was very +rigorous, and indeed resembled the kind of discipline which a +militant religious body imposes on its members. The Jacobins +were always scrutinizing their own membership, submitting to +the ordeal of an <i lang="fr">épuration</i>, literally a “purification,” perhaps in +contemporary terms a “purge.” The slightest deviation from +the established order of the day might bring a warning and +possible expulsion. With the Spartan ways of the Russian Communist +party in the early days of the soviet state most of us +are familiar; it is a point on which all reporters, kindly and +unkindly, are agreed.</p> + +<p>The extremists put their disciplined skill into the realization +of the revolutionary ends. There has been worked out in the +last few hundred years an elaborate technique of revolutionary +action, of which the Russian Communists were the latest heirs. +A good deal has been written about this technique, which is +in part simply the technique of any successful pressure group: +propaganda, electioneering, lobbying, parading, street-fighting, +delegation-making, direct pressure on magistrates, sporadic terrorism +of the tar-and-feather or castor-oil variety. Jacobins, +Communists, and Sons of Liberty did a notably good job at +this sort of thing. But it is rather surprising to note how many +of these techniques can be found in England, and especially +in London, as early as the seventeenth century. In this respect, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>as in many others, the English revolution is clearly of a modern +type. Here is a bit that might have come from the French +revolution: during the debate on the Militia Order, a crowd of +apprentices “came into the House of Commons and kept the +door open, and their hats on ... and called out as they stood +‘Vote, vote,’ and in this arrogant posture stood until the votes +passed.” One suspects that these apprentices did not march in +spontaneously. This is the kind of thing that takes organization.</p> + +<p>Finally, the extremists follow their leaders with a devotion +and a unanimity not to be found among the moderates. Theories +of democratic equality, which crop up at the start of all +our revolutions, prove no obstacle to the development among +the extremists of something very like the “Führer” principle +we associate with Fascist movements. Here it is the moderates +who live up to their theories, and in the early stages of the +revolutions it is not uncommon to find complaints that So-and-so +is arrogating to himself powers no good man would want +to possess. Mirabeau and Kerensky, to take neat examples, were +accused by moderates and extremists alike of aiming at a personal +dictatorship. Yet Robespierre and Lenin followed in their +footsteps—almost literally—and this time only the cheering +could be heard. This magnifying of the principle of leadership +runs right through the organization, from the subalterns up to +the great national heroes—Cromwell, Robespierre, Lenin.</p> + +<p>On the whole, this leadership is effective, and especially so +at the very top. Now if they are seen as full and rounded +human beings, there are unquestionably differences among the +men who make up the general staffs of the extremists. The psychologist +and the novelist—indeed the historian as well—could +not lump them all together. Yet they have in common one +aspect which is of great importance to the sociologist; they combine, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>in varying degrees, very high ideals and a complete contempt +for the inhibitions and principles which serve most other +men as ideals. They present a strange variant of Plato’s pleasant +scheme: they are not philosopher-kings but philosopher-killers. +They have the realistic, the practical touch very few of the +moderate leaders had, and yet they have also enough of the +prophet’s fire to hold followers who expect the New Jerusalem +around the next corner. They are practical men unfettered by +common sense, Machiavellians in the service of the Beautiful +and the Good.</p> + +<p>A bit from Lenin will make the point clear. At a secret meeting +of the Central Committee of the Bolshevik party just before +the October revolution, Lenin was urging insurrection on +the more tender-minded of his colleagues, who thought that +the Bolsheviks ought to respect the will of the majority of Russians, +which was clearly against them. “We are inclined to +consider the systematic preparation of an uprising as something +in the nature of a political sin,” said he. “To wait until the +Constituent Assembly, which will clearly not be with us, is +senseless.” There is the practical Lenin, unworried by a democratic +dogma that stands in his way. After the October revolution +he writes in <cite>Pravda</cite> of “the crisis which has arisen as a +result of the lack of correspondence between the elections to +the Constituent Assembly and the will of the people and the +interests of the toiling and exploited classes.” Here the will of +the people is somehow at bottom the will of the minority party +of Bolsheviks. We are back again in the midst of democratic +dogma. Parallel cases could readily be drawn from Robespierre, +Cromwell, and even, one fears, from Jefferson.</p> + +<p>Hypocrisy? To those of little imagination or experience of +the world, such acts must always seem hypocritical. But, on a +less heroic scale, they are far too much a part of normal human +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>action to deserve so opprobrious a label. The Robespierre who, +as an enlightened young man, had held capital punishment +wrong did not hypocritically send his enemies to the guillotine. +He had convinced himself that his enemies were scarcely +men at all; they were sinners, corrupt souls, agents of a worse-than-Satan, +and their removal from this earth wasn’t really +capital punishment in the conventional sense at all. You could +still treat ordinary criminals in full accord with the most humanitarian +principles of jurisprudence. Most of us make this +sort of compromise with ourselves often enough in daily life. +But with us comfort, convenience, habit, even common sense, +determine the limits of compromise. For the revolutionary +extremist such limits are off; in the delirium, in the crisis, there +is an extraordinary reversal of the roles played in normal times +by the real and the ideal. Here briefly and at last the blind—or +the seer—is king; plain earthly seeing, the kind that concerns +the oculist, is for once of very little use. The seers have +just enough of it to keep their positions of leadership. Cromwell, +indeed, had a good deal of what seems an English sense +of the contingent, and Lenin was certainly no academic idealist. +Robespierre is in some ways the most unadulterated seer of +the lot.</p> + +<p>Yet all of them, including even Robespierre, were what the +world calls men of action. They could and did get things done, +were administrators and executives, ran organizations for which +tradition and routine had not yet been able to build up much +that worked automatically. If they have left behind them a +reputation for unusual ruthlessness, this may be in part a reflection +of the ill repute terrorism has for most of us. And the +ruthlessness, in the proper service of the ideal, went while they +were alive into the making of their leadership. Cromwell gained +credit among the Saints for his Irish massacres. The guillotine +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>in France was for a few months the “holy guillotine.” Trotsky, +early in his famous rallying of the Bolshevik troops in the Civil +War, ordered shot the commander, commissar, and one soldier +out of ten in a Petrograd workers’ regiment that had fled the +enemy, and to the dismay of gentler colleagues showed no hesitation +about continuing the policy of discipline through bloodshed. +Trotsky became briefly a savior and a hero. We are a long +way from Order Number One!</p> + +<p>For most men, there is a gap between their deeds and their +professions, between what they are and what they would like +to be, between what they are and what they think they are. +Normally, however, they manage to keep the gap small enough, +or turn their attention away from one side of it or the other, +so that they are not unduly troubled by it. For the leaders of +the extremists in times of revolution the gap looks to an outside +observer enormous, bigger than it ever is in normal times. +A few men, like Fouché, seem to have been terrorists to save +their own skins. But, in general, only a sincere extremist in a +revolution can kill men because he loves man, attain peace +through violence, and free men by enslaving them. Such contrasts +in action would paralyze a conventionally practical leader, +but the extremist seems quite undisturbed by it. Where the +ordinary man would be troubled by something like a split personality, +where his conscience or his sense of reality, or both, +would be haunted, the extremist goes boldly ahead. Wide +though the gap between the real and the ideal is in the crisis +period, he can cross it at his own convenience. He has, for +the moment, the best of both worlds. He can manipulate with +equal skill the concrete and complex human beings on committees, +deputations, bureaus, ministries, all the unsettling problems +of administration, and yet use gracefully and convincingly +the abstract, indispensable, haunting words which have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>in revolutions such magic power over large groups of men.</p> + +<p>It is this last gift that seems to lie all but wholly beyond +the capacity of the most ambitious hypocrite. The great leaders +of the Terrors are fitted for their task by a genuine vocation, +a vocation which in ordinary times would exclude them from +political power. Their belief in the Absolute is not assumed, +and is as real as their ability to handle the contingent. And for +once the Absolute is practical politics. F. W. Maitland has a +passage, suggested by Coleridge, which puts the point neatly: +“Coleridge has remarked how, in times of great political excitement, +the terms in which political theories are expressed become, +not more and more practical, but more and more abstract +and impractical. It is in such times that men clothe their +theories in universal terms.... The absolute spirit is abroad. +Relative or partial good seems a poor ideal. It is not of these, +or those men that we speak, of this nation or that age, but +of Man.”</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_193"><em>III. Fitness of the Extremists</em></h3> + +<p>The transition from opposition to power is not a sudden +one for the extremists. The whole point about the <i lang="ru">dvoevlastie</i>, +the dual sovereignty, is that it is not a struggle between government +and opposition, between ins and outs, but between +two governments within the same state. Under the old regime +perhaps no more than a pressure group, the revolutionists’ organization +gradually takes over, in the confusion of the first +stages of actual revolution, governmental powers which are +never thereafter wholly subordinated to the provisional government, +the almost legal heir of the old regime. The process +is especially clear in Russia, though it is substantially uniform +in all our revolutions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span></p> + +<p>Practically all the soviets, even in the market towns, did administrative +work from the very beginning. Trotsky, here in his +role of historian, gives some good succinct examples: “The +soviet in Saratov was compelled to interfere in economic conflicts, +to arrest manufacturers, confiscate the tramway belonging +to Belgians, introduce workers’ control, and organize production +in the abandoned factories.... In the Urals the soviets +frequently instituted courts of justice for the trial of citizens, +created their own militia in several factories, paying for its +equipment out of the factory cash-box, organized a workers’ inspection +which assembled raw materials and fuel for the factories, +superintended the sale of manufactured goods and +established a wage-scale. In certain districts of the Urals, the +soviets took the land from the landlords and put it under social +cultivation.” Obviously, in parts of Russia the slogan “All +power to the Soviets” had become a bit superfluous even before +the October revolution.</p> + +<p>In France the “Societies of Friends of the Constitution,” at +their formation in 1789 hardly more than pressure groups, or +possibly French variants of the Yankee caucus, had by June 2, +1793, taken over a good many functions normally carried out +by governmental bodies. When the “constituted authorities,” +as the Jacobins respectfully called governing councils and legislatures, +failed to do what the Jacobins wanted, the Jacobins +went ahead and did it themselves. Notably the whole repressive +legislation on the non-juring (Catholic) clergy was anticipated +in practice by the Jacobin clubs in the provinces. The +clubs were organized like parliamentary bodies, with elaborate +rules on debating, with committees, officers, minutes, and indeed +all the apparatus of a proper legislature. Sometimes a club +would overawe or persuade municipal or departmental officers +into an approved Jacobin policy; sometimes, failing in this, a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>club would almost openly pass laws and decrees. Those of the +members who protested against this shocking interference with +authorities chosen by popular election—and many did protest +on just such grounds—were thereby ticketed as moderates, and +were lucky if they avoided the guillotine later.</p> + +<p>That the men who made the American revolution were by +no means unexercised in the art of actual governing has long +been a commonplace of proud Anglo-Saxon writers on both +sides of the Atlantic. What we must note here is that that +preparation had by no means been wholly of the conventional +legal sort. Not only in town meeting and colonial legislatures, +but in caucuses, committees, and congresses that bear a close +parallel with soviets and Jacobin clubs, the American radicals +were schooled to take over the government from the agents of +the Crown. We shall see in the next chapter that they did not +hesitate to use terroristic means to preserve, as they had used +to attain, that power.</p> + +<p>In England the situation is complicated by the fact that +though the illegal organization headed up in the New Model +Army, the various Independent congregations were also in +their way agents of the extremists in their drive to power. The +army itself, of course, began very soon after Naseby to interfere +in politics in a way no conventional army does; and the +first expulsion of Presbyterians from Parliament was initiated +and carried through by army resolutions and an army committee. +But the Independents, and especially the Independent +clergy, had much earlier taken a hand in matters very terrestrial +indeed. As Professor Grierson has said, “It is not what Laud +did that Baxter [a Puritan divine] seems to complain of, so +much as what he would not allow them, the parish pastors, to +do, viz., to exercise a moral discipline co-extensive with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>parish.” And by a moral discipline a Puritan meant something +co-extensive with the whole of human life.</p> + +<p>The extremists are not, then, politically innocent or inexperienced; +they have had a long experience of oppression, and +a briefer, but very intensive, training in actual government before +they come to full power. To call either leaders or rank +and file inexperienced, “pure theorists,” and “metaphysicians,” +as has long been the habit especially among political writers +in English, is misleading. Neither their aims nor their methods +are those that good Victorians like Bagehot or Maine could approve +or sympathize with. They are certainly heaven-storming +idealists, scornful of compromise. But they are not academic +theorists totally unadapted to action. <em>On the contrary, they +are admirably adapted, almost in the sense a biologist gives to +adaptation, to the special, the unique environment of the crisis.</em> +That is why they succeed.</p> + +<p>The actual overthrow of the moderates is usually a very neat +job, an excellent example of the skill of the revolutionary leaders +and the close adaptation of the revolutionary organizations +to their functions. It is, as we have seen, by no means a great +popular uprising. The crowds whose confused milling about +makes an exact account of the taking of the Bastille or the +February revolution in Petrograd impossible for the historian, +do not interfere with the professional dispatch with which +Pride’s Purge, the purge of the Girondins, and the October +revolution were put through. In France the extremists reached +power in two of these <i lang="fr">coups d’état</i>. The first, the overthrow +of the monarchy on August 10, 1792, was achieved through an +elaborate but never confused collaboration of various organs +of the illegal government—Jacobin and other political clubs, +the <i lang="fr">fédérés</i>, local militia from all over France assembled in +Paris to celebrate the anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>and the ward organizations out of which the revolutionary +Parisian Commune was made. Almost the same elements were +integrated ten months later for the easier task of bullying the +Convention into giving up the Girondins. Danton, Marat, possibly +Robespierre, and certainly a number of less famous but +very skilled secondary leaders formed a general staff which +engineered both of these coups.</p> + +<p>The October revolution was elaborately prepared, and has +been clearly described in Trotsky’s own <cite>History of the Russian +Revolution</cite>. We need not here go into details of this preparation. +But a quotation from Trotsky will show how the details +were taken care of: “The typographical workers, through their +union, called to the attention of the Committee [the Military-Revolution +Committee in Petrograd, the general staff of the +October revolution] an increase in Black Hundred leaflets and +brochures. It was decided that in all suspicious cases the printers’ +union should come for instructions to the Military-Revolution +Committee. This control was the most effective of all possible +forms of control over the printed agitation of the counter-revolution.” +Naturally; printed agitation has to have printers +as well as legal freedom of the press. In a dozen such ways the +moderates were hamstrung in the last few days before the +Bolshevik insurrection. There was no nonsense about a general +strike; there was simply a co-ordinated series of seizures of +centers of power, press, post and telegraph, banks, and ministries.</p> + +<p>The dramatic seizure of Charles I by Cornet Joyce on June +3, 1647, at Holmby House is perhaps the first assumption of +sovereign power by the New Model. When Charles asked Joyce +whence he had his commission to remove him, Joyce is said to +have replied, pointing to his soldiers drawn up on the lawn, +“There is my commission.” The reply will serve in all our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>revolutions. Once the extremists are in power, there is no +more finicky regard for the liberties of the individual or for the +forms of legality. The extremists, after clamoring for liberty +and toleration while they were in opposition, turn very authoritarian +when they reach power. There is no need for us to sigh +over this, or grow indignant, or talk of hypocrisy. We are attempting +to discern uniformities in the behavior of men during +certain revolutions in specific social systems, and this seems +to be one of the uniformities.</p> + +<p>“It was but a bare six months,” writes Gardiner, “since the +Independent leaders [Cromwell and Vane] who now permitted +some hundreds of sufferers to be excluded for conscience’s +sake from the University of Oxford, had been striving +to lay the foundations of a broad system of toleration in +<cite>The Heads of the Proposals</cite> and had even taken into consideration +a scheme for extending that toleration to the Roman +Catholic priesthood itself.” Later under the Rump a strict +censorship of the press was instituted, and the various canons +and tastes of Puritanism enforced as far as possible by government +policy. Similarly in France and Russia the new government +clamped down at once on its enemies and began to +build up the machinery of the coming Terror. Where, as in +France and Russia, the army had lost its discipline under active +attempts to introduce Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, discipline +was reintroduced with a good deal of firmness. Mr. +Chamberlin describes the Russian situation: “The Bolshevik +military authorities now began to talk about the harmful and +disruptive influence of army committees very much as Kornilov, +Denikin, and the old army officers had spoken in 1917; +and strict obedience to the orders of the officers gradually became +embedded in the discipline of the Red Army.”</p> + +<p><cite>The Heads of Proposals</cite> and <cite>The Agreement of the People</cite>, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>radical platforms adopted by the army under Leveller influence, +had proposed something very close to what came to be conventional +nineteenth-century democracy—equal electoral districts, +frequent parliaments, specific limitations on the executive +power, even universal manhood suffrage. Cromwell seems +never to have been in any sense a doctrinaire rebel, and indeed +probably had many of the sentiments about authority and +tradition one would expect from a country gentleman. If he +suffered at all in mind about the situation, it was probably because +the good old parliamentary institutions could not be +restored. Certainly the last thing that could be done was to +hold an open and free election on any conceivable franchise. +The so-called Parliament of Saints which met in 1653 after +the dissolution of the Rump was hardly more than a council +sent up from trustworthy Independent groups and chosen by +caucus methods.</p> + +<p>Similarly in France, the victors of June 2nd did not dare +go to the people. As a gesture they promulgated the so-called +Constitution of 1793, based on universal suffrage, bill of rights, +and the rest of the paraphernalia of democracy, but they took +good care to go no further than printing it. It was never put +into effect.</p> + +<p>The Bolsheviks had for months attacked the Provisional +government for not calling a constituent assembly. Such an +assembly was finally chosen by universal suffrage just before +the Bolshevik <i lang="fr">coup</i>. In it the Bolsheviks were in a minority. +Lenin dissolved this constituent assembly in January, 1918, +with a light heart, but many of his followers, in spite of their +Marxist training, were really hurt by such a defiance of democratic +sentiments and traditions. Many good Jacobins were also +worried by the fact of their new dictatorship.</p> + +<p>Theory came to provide a salve to wounded consciences. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>The theory of revolutionary dictatorship is very nearly identical +in all three of our revolutions. Liberty for everyone, liberty +full, free, and fair, is of course the ultimate goal. But such +liberty at present would mean that men corrupted by the bad +old ways would be able to realize their wicked plans, restore +the bad old institutions, and frustrate the good men. On reflection, +the extremist continues, it is clear that we must distinguish +between liberty for those who deserve it, and liberty +for those who don’t, which latter is, of course, false liberty, +pseudo-liberty, license or anarchy. God had given liberty to +the Saints—true liberty, which is obedience to Him—but he +clearly did not give liberty to sinners. You repress papists as +you would repress devils. To argue that such sinners ought to +be left alone would have seemed to seventeenth-century English +Puritans as absurd as it would to us to suggest that yellow-fever-bearing +mosquitoes be left alone. Robespierre himself +phrased it with classic neatness: the revolutionary government, +he said, was the despotism of liberty against tyranny. For +Marx, the dictatorship of the proletariat is a necessary transitional +stage, in which the last vestiges of capitalistic methods +and capitalistic mentality are wiped out. Ruthless use of force +will be necessary in this period—unfortunately of indeterminate +length. Once a capitalist, always a capitalist, apparently. But +when men are finally brothers, then the freedom of the classless +society will finally begin.</p> + +<p>Solaced by the knowledge that they are serving Liberty—in +the high, true sense of the word—by a rigorous application of +what to the unbeliever seems tyranny, the extremists go ahead +to consolidate their power through institutions. Before we +attempt a brief, generalized description of these institutions, +we may note another uniformity. With the triumph of the +extremists as we have defined them, the process of transfer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>of power from Right to Left ceases. The extremists are not +indeed exempt from the difficulty other triumphant groups +had faced from the very beginning of the revolutionary process. +They develop internal conflicts, tend to split up into groups +too hostile among themselves for co-operation. But these groups +cannot be neatly ranged from Right to Left; and their dissension +is ended quickly and without even the turmoil and confusion +of a <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i>. The dissensions have by now become +so subtly doctrinal, so remote from the masses of the population, +that they can be centered on a few leaders. And they are +settled by the banishment or “judicial murder”—as it seems to +the defeated partisans—of some of these leaders. What began +with large-scale popular uprisings has now come to the dramatic +intimacy of a courtroom.</p> + +<p>France is here the clearest case. The victorious Montagnards +of June 2nd divided into three major factions, that of which +Robespierre stands as the head, that of Danton, and that of +Hébert. There were, of course, sub-factions, wheels within +wheels, and had Marat not been assassinated in the summer of +1793, there might have been still further complications. Robespierre, +eventually victorious, rationalized the situation as a +conflict between the true revolutionaries on one hand and the +Ultra-revolutionaries (Hébert) and the Citra-revolutionaries +(Danton) on the other. He was, to himself, the golden and +virtuous mean between proletarian vice and bourgeois corruption. +The actual situation is almost unbelievably complicated, +and only the narrative historian with plenty of space to command +can disentangle it. Both Dantonists and Hébertists, +“traitors” and “anarchists,” were condemned before the Revolutionary +Tribunal, and went to the guillotine in two large and +rather miscellaneous batches. For the next few months, the +“faction of Robespierre” was in complete control of France.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p> + +<p>The victorious Independents in England in 1649 found +themselves facing an astonishing variety of sects which had +been carried along to triumph in the general good work for +the cause of complete toleration of all Dissenters. We shall in +a moment have a word to say about the doctrinal aspect of +these groups. Meantime we may note that not only did Cromwell +continue to keep down papists, prelatists, and Presbyterians, +but he and his officers saw to it that Fifth Monarchy +Men, Diggers, Levellers, Millenarians, Quakers, and the rest +were not allowed to try out their wilder schemes in practice. +The Diggers could dig no more in this earth. The old tactics +of “no enemy to the Left,” which had held ever since the beginning +of the revolution, were now definitely abandoned. As +Professor Trevelyan has written, “All revolutionists, the moment +they undertake the actual responsibilities, become in +some sort conservatives. Robespierre guillotined the Anarchists. +The first administrative act of the [English] Regicides was to +silence the Levellers.” There are, then, if you like, those more +extreme than the group we have called the extremists. But +such men are of the lunatic fringe. They are the impractical +people erroneously thought by some conservatives to be typical +revolutionists. They definitely do not attain power.</p> + +<p>The Russian situation is still somewhat obscured in respect +to the opposition to official Bolshevism after October, 1917, +and this obscurity seems in some ways thicker than ever today. +Nevertheless it is clear that even while Lenin was alive, and +especially in the year or so after the October revolution, there +were a good many stresses and strains within the Bolshevik +party, and that Lenin and his followers suppressed opposing +groups even when they claimed to be more “revolutionary” +than the Leninists. Thanks to the excellent discipline of the +Bolshevik party and to the particularly pressing nature of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>war against the Whites and the Allies, these quarrels were +not as public as they had been in England and in France. The +recent Moscow trials seem to belong to a different phase of +revolution, or rather, are internal difficulties of a specific state +that has gone through the cycle of revolution. In spite of certain +superficial analogies, they do not seem to be a part of +the uniformity we are here discussing.</p> + +<p>These little opposition factions are inextricably woven in +with various eccentric groups which are not completely stilled +until the height of the Terror—if even then. They represent, +as we have seen, the lunatic fringes common to any complex +civilization, and they are especially active and vocal in the +early stages of our revolutions, and during the struggle between +moderates and extremists. They are less important in the +actual course of these revolutions than conservative historians, +and conservatives generally, like to make out. But they are +interesting variations in the main body of revolutionary orthodoxy, +and they illuminate in many ways the general history +of heresy and heretics.</p> + +<p>“Never did the human mind attain such a magnificent height +of self-assertiveness as in England about the year 1650,” wrote +Lytton Strachey. And certainly what we now think of as almost +a racially founded British love for the middle-of-the-road is not +very evident in these years. Strachey ironically lists the possibility +of becoming a Behmenist, a Bidellian, a Coppinist, a Salmonist, +a Dipper, a Traskite, a Tyronist, a Philadelphian, +Christadelphian, or Seventh Day Baptist, omitting the subject +he was actually writing about, Ludovic Muggleton, founder +of the still-existing Muggletonians. The terms mean almost +as little to us today as do those with which John Goodwin is +referred to in the third volume of <cite>Gangraena</cite>: “a monotonous +sectary, a compound of Socinianism, Arminianism, Libertinism, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>Antinomianism, Independency, Popery and Skepticism.” +This is a marvelous compound of contradictions, as though a +man today were called a mixture of Communism, Hitlerism, +Fascism, Republicanism and Prohibitionism. As Mr. Gooch +has said, the English revolution presents some of the most +remarkable communistic speculations in history. As early as +1647 John Hare published a pamphlet, <cite>Plain English to our +Wilful Bearers of Normanism</cite>, in which he attacked the institution +of private property without being very clear about +what might take its place. Chamberlen, in his <cite>Poor Man’s +Advocate</cite>, urged the nationalization of all Crown and Church +possessions, the resumption of all common lands that had +been enclosed. This land was to be called the national stock, +and was to be administered for the benefit of the poor.</p> + +<p>The Diggers, however, are the most remarkable of these +communistic groups, if only because they tried to put their +ideas into practice. The movement was prefaced by an obscure +pamphlet of December, 1648, with a title quite characteristic +of the age, <cite>Light Shining in Buckinghamshire</cite>. Early in April +of 1649 one Everard, a cashiered soldier of the New Model, +with a few followers came to St. George’s Hill in Surrey “and +began to dig, and sowed the ground with parsnips, carrots, and +beans.” A voice, said Everard, had bidden him dig and plow +the earth and receive the fruits thereof. They did not intend +to meddle with enclosed land, but simply to take what was +common and untilled and make it fruitful. For the time being +General Fairfax, who seems to have regarded them as harmless +fanatics, left them to their digging.</p> + +<p>The apocalyptic touch is even more striking, if possible, in +the Millenarians or Fifth Monarchy men. These held that the +fourth monarchy of the Bible was drawing to a close, and that +the fifth monarchy, or reign of the saints, was at hand.... +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>They, of course, were the saints. They split, however, over the +question as to whether or not it was proper for them to aid +divine providence. Some of them held that the Lord was in +himself quite equal to the task of overthrowing the mighty +of this world; others believed that it was lawful, and presumably +helpful, to combat the Lord’s enemies with the material +sword, and hasten the day when the saints should possess +riches and reign with Him on earth. Their dilemma reminds +one somewhat of that facing nineteenth-century Socialists, +forced to choose between the militants and the revisionists.</p> + +<p>In comparison with the wealth of imagination the English +put into the effort to bring heaven to earth, the other two +revolutions seem poverty-stricken. Perhaps the old Anglo-Saxon +belief that the French lack imaginative depth is valid, +but surely this cannot be brought up against the Russians. +Perhaps the answer is simply that as sources of imaginative +inspiration neither the Enlightenment of the eighteenth-century +<i lang="fr">philosophes</i> nor the dialectic materialism of the Marxist +can hold a candle to the King James version of the Bible. Yet +France was by no means unproductive on the side of the lunatic +fringe. The <i lang="fr">Enragés</i>, led by Varlet and Roux, and based largely +on the poorer sections of Paris, seem to have held a vaguely +communistic doctrine. At any rate, they were definitely against +the rich, against the new merchant aristocracy. The <i lang="fr">Hébertistes</i>, +another popular Parisian group sometimes confused with the +<i lang="fr">Enragés</i>, had largely yellow journalists and ward spoilsmen as +leaders, but their main body must have nourished vaguely +Utopian dreams. Then there was the incredible little circle +around Catherine Théot, “Mother of God”—with Robespierre +designated at least as one of the manifestations of God. It does +indeed seem likely that republican professors in France are +right, and that much of this was stirred up by Robespierre’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>enemies to make him seem ridiculous; for even at the crisis +period of revolutions some men retain a sense of humor. Yet +the fact remains that Catherine Théot and her circle existed.</p> + +<p>In Russia the completeness and quickness of the Bolshevik +victory probably explains the relative lack of rival Utopias. +It is true that from 1918 to 1921 the Bolsheviks were forced +to fight off Whites and Allies on a dozen fronts, and that in a +region like the Ukraine, for instance, you can find everything +from Czarist rulers through mild <i lang="ru">narodniks</i> and partisan or +guerilla rulers to pure Reds. But there is a dog-eat-dog cruelty +in the Russian revolution that seems to exclude the mild +delusions of an Everard or a Catherine Théot.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_206"><em>IV. The Machinery of Dictatorship</em></h3> + +<p>The dictatorship of the extremists is embodied in governmental +forms as a rough-and-ready centralization. In detail these +forms vary in our different societies, but the Commonwealth in +England, the <i lang="fr">gouvernement révolutionnaire</i> in France and the +Bolshevik dictatorship during the period of “war communism” +in Russia all display uniformities of the kind the systematist +in biology or zoology would not hesitate to catalogue as uniformities. +Notably the making of final decisions in a wide +range of matters is taken away from local and secondary authorities, +especially if those authorities have been “democratically” +elected, and is concentrated on a few persons in the national +capital. Though names like Cromwell, Robespierre, and Lenin +stand out as those of rulers, and although these men did exercise +unquestioned power in many ways, the characteristic form +of this supreme authority is that of a committee. The government +of the Terror is a dictatorship in commission.</p> + +<p>This centralized executive commission—Committee of Public +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>Safety, the All-Russian Central Executive Committee +(Vtsik)—rests on a supine if talkative legislative body—Rump, +Convention, All-Russian Congress of Soviets—and gets its +orders carried out by an extemporized bureaucracy, largely +recruited from party workers, and from that club-sect-pressure-group +we have seen as the body of the extremist group. The +old law courts cannot work, at least in their traditional manner. +They are therefore supplemented by extraordinary courts, revolutionary +tribunals, or are wholly transformed by new appointments +and by special jurisdictions. Finally, a special sort of +revolutionary police appears. The Russian Cheka is familiar +to everyone with the slightest knowledge of recent history. +In France the <i lang="fr">comité de surété générale</i> and the <i lang="fr">comités révolutionnaires</i> +fulfilled these police functions; in the English +revolution they were carried out very effectively by the new +Independent parish clergy, aided by various <i lang="la">ad hoc</i> committees +in the army. But in England the whole fabric of governmental +centralization was rudimentary and simple—Cromwell’s own +anomalous dictatorship, the new Court set up by the Rump +in March, 1650, in which legislative, administrative, and judicial +powers were as thoroughly combined as ever in the Star Chamber, +the curious experiment of the Major Generals in 1655-56. +The fact of the centralization in England is, however, unquestionable. +Even the sacred functions of that holiest guardian +of English local liberties, the Justice of the Peace, were under +attack all during the domination of the extremists.</p> + +<p>These extemporized dictatorships were faced not only with +the ordinary problems of government, but with civil and foreign +war, and with at least a certain number of actual reform +measures which they had to try to put through. Notably in +the French and Russian revolutions, the new government had +to administer what, to avoid dispute as to the meaning of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>Socialism, we may call measures of economic planning—fixed +prices and wages, managed currency, food rationing, and so on. +We need not here bother with the problem as to whether in +France these were purely war measures or not. The point is that +the government found itself obliged to try to administer them. +In Russia, of course, there were conscious efforts to embody +Marxist Socialism in working institutions.</p> + +<p>But these were all very rough-and-ready forms of dictatorship. +The governments of the Terror were on the whole much +less efficient, less effectively absolute than many peacetime +governments with nowhere near their reputation for absoluteness. +Indeed, one of the reasons why they seem so tyrannical +and hard to bear, even retrospectively, is precisely because they +were so inefficient. They got their big tasks done—saved England, +France, and Russia from dissolution or conquest, but +they did it very messily and, in detail, very badly. The actual +administrators were usually inexperienced, were often petty fanatics, +often incompetent blow-hards who had risen to prominence +in the clubs or the party. They were under tremendous +pressure from above to get results. They were frequently in +charge of operations very close to the heart of the revolution as +an economic movement—confiscation of Royalist estates and +clerical livings in England, disposition of the confiscated lands +of clergy and <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> in France, nationalization of land and factories +in Russia—which gave them grand opportunities for graft. +They had to work with a population many if not most of whom +were distrustful or hostile. Small wonder then that these reigns +of terror stand out rather for irregular acts of violence, that their +full history is a matter of incredible complexity. Nothing is +more illuminating in the study of these revolutions than the +study of local history. Here you see the Terror as it really was, +no steady and efficient rule from above, as in an army or in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>Sparta, but a state of suspense and fear, a dissolution of the +sober little uniformities of provincial life. Much depends on +the accidents of personality—a sensible squire, a moderate and +able local revolutionary or two, and a given village may go +through a revolution fairly serenely. In others, terror may rule +as bitterly as in the capital.</p> + +<p>This inefficiency of the governments of the crisis period +comes out clearly in their attempts to regulate and control +the economic life of the state. This whole matter has probably +very little to do with the general problem of what is known +as “economic planning.” Again we must emphasize that we +are concerned only with the anatomies of certain specific +revolutions. Suffice it to say that in France in 1793-94 and +in Russia in 1918-21 armies were fed and supplied with munitions, +and some civilians kept alive at any rate, under a +pretty absolute state control of economic activity. The French +<em>maximum</em> meant of course price- and wage-fixing, and the +Russian war communism was an even more complete form of +central planning. Yet in France violation of the <em>maximum</em> was +as frequent as bootlegging used to be in this country, and the +detailed history of the <em>maximum</em> seen as part of local history +would certainly provide some amusing bits. In Russia illegal +trading in the war years was again very like our bootlegging. +The famous Sukharevka Market in Moscow was occasionally +raided but on the whole winked at by Lenin’s government. All +city dwellers who could possibly do so made trips to the country +to bargain with peasants for forbidden food supplies. Here +again the intimate little details of daily life are fascinating, and +call for the full talents of the social historian.</p> + +<p>There seems to be a pretty unanimous admission by historians, +even when they are hostile to revolutions in general, +that during the crisis period ordinary crimes of violence are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>rare. There may be plenty of cruelty and corruption among +these new administrators and judges, the new regime may be +very far from insuring peace and order, but conventional robbers, +cutthroats, kidnapers, and their like are not very active. +Your good stupid Tory has a simple explanation: they’ve all +got government jobs. We can, however, hardly accept this +as a blanket explanation. It seems likely that the ordinary +criminals are for the moment pretty well cowed by the general +crusade against ordinary vice and crime which is a part of the +crisis period and to which we are coming shortly. Petty thieves +and in several instances even prostitutes were summarily disposed +of by what amounts to lynch law during the French +revolution, and similar instances can be found in England +and Russia. One need not accept it as a general suggestion that +you can always cow criminals by lynching; here, as throughout +this book, we are studying a particular set of events, seeking +some rough uniformities, and making no attempt at general +conclusions in any such field as criminology. It may be that +in the general tension, in the extraordinary widening of public +concerns until privacy is almost impossible, so private a thing +as ordinary crime is difficult. The criminal is disturbed, not +only by fear of being lynched, but by an indefinable general +fear which he shares with ordinary citizens. For fear needs no +object, and in the Terror often has none. It must be remembered +that this crisis period is brief—a few months, a few +years at the most. At any rate, again a simple uniformity stands +out: a considerable lessening in the number of ordinary crimes +is to be noted during the crisis period. Mr. Chamberlin notes +that Moscow in 1918-19 was a very safe place to live in—if +you could get enough to eat and keep warm.</p> + +<p>There is usually a short period between the overthrow of +the moderates and the full impact of the Terror. The machinery +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>of the Terror, for one thing, hastily assembled though +it is, cannot be assembled overnight. Though the earlier history +of the revolution has had its share of violence, there has +been an interlude or so of apparent peace at times during the +struggle between the moderates and the extremists. The pressure +of foreign enemies and their <i lang="fr">émigré</i> allies is not immediately +at its strongest. Yet as the weeks go on the forces that +make for the Terror come into full operation.</p> + +<p>We have in this chapter briefly described the rise of the +extremists, and have attempted to analyze the reasons for their +victory. We have taken them to the point where they have +disposed of all important conflicting groups, and have consolidated +their position by installing a centralized system of +government. For the next few months, or for a year or so, the +extremists can be as extreme as they like. No one dare challenge +them. We have come to that crisis in the fever of revolution +men commonly call the Reign of Terror. This very important +subject must be treated in a separate chapter.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_seven"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">seven</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">REIGNS OF TERROR AND VIRTUE</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_212"><em>I. Pervasiveness of the Terror</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">“August 8, 1775. Riflemen took a man in New Milford, +Connecticut, a most incorrigible Tory, who called them +d—d rebels, etc., and made him walk before them to Litchfield, +which is twenty miles, and carry one of his own geese all +the way in his hand. When they arrived there, they tarred him, +and made him pluck his goose, and then bestowed the feathers +on him, drummed him out of the company, and obliged him +to kneel down and thank them for their lenity.” The Jacobins +of Rodez in southern France drew up a list of “damned dogs +of noblemen” and others unworthy of wearing a mustache, the +new symbol of patriotism, republican virility and orthodoxy. +It then ordered its committee of surveillance to see that any +such persons daring to wear a mustache were seized and shaved, +“taking good care to get the job done without soap, and with +the dullest razor available.” Shaving seems in some ways a +ritual performance lifted above the ordinary acts of the toilet, +for on October 3, 1775, the New York Sons of Liberty “in +solemn Congress assembled” took a vote of thanks: “to Mr. +Jacob Vredenburgh, barber, for his firm, spirited, and patriotic +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>conduct in refusing to complete an operation vulgarly called +<em>shaving</em>, which he had begun on the face of Captain John +Croser, commander ... of one of his Majesty’s transports.... +It is to be wished that all gentlemen of the razor will +follow this wise, prudent, interesting example.”</p> + +<p>The undignified little details are important, for they help +bring home to us the pervasiveness of the Reign of Terror. +There is not only the melodrama of the block, the guillotine +and the firing-squad, not only the heightened struggle for +power among the great of the new order, not only the tension +of foreign and civil war, there is also the tragi-comedy of thousands +of little lives invaded by heroic concerns which are ordinarily +not theirs at all. The Terror touches great and small with +the obsessive power of a fashion; it holds men as little of the +common weal ever holds them, unless they are professionally +devoted to the study or practice of politics. During the Terror, +politics becomes as real, as pressing, as unavoidable for John +Jones or Jacques Duval as food and drink, wife or mistress, his +job and the weather. Political indifference, that mainstay of +the modern state, becomes impossible for even the most selfish, +the most unworldly.</p> + +<p>This participation in the common thing, in the drama of +the revolutionary state, means different things to those we may +call outsiders and those we may call insiders. The opposition +is purely one of convenience. No doubt there are insensible +gradations from the ardent revolutionary extremist—the admirably +drawn Evariste Gamelin of Anatole France’s <cite>The Gods +Are Athirst</cite>, for instance—through the neutral and colorless +Center to skulking and repressed anti-revolutionaries. But in +broad lines the division between the many outside the revolutionary +cult and the small active band of orthodox believers +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>in the new dispensation is worth making. Let us look first at +the Terror as it affects the life of the outsider.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_214"><em>II. The Terror and the Outsider</em></h3> + +<p>This ordinary outsider is not the actively hostile person, the +<i lang="fr">émigré</i> in fact or, as the French actually put it, the <i lang="fr">émigré +d’esprit</i>, the <i lang="fr">émigré</i> who has quit spiritually if not in the flesh. +He is not the disgruntled moderate. He is simply the man +who makes up the bulk of modern societies, the man who on +the whole accepts what others do in politics, the man who +fairly soon gets on the band-wagon. Especially in its crisis +period, the revolution is awfully hard on this outsider. It may +provide him with a certain number of spectacles in the form +of various celebrations of the new revolutionary cults—processions, +trees of liberty, festivals of reason, and so on. But certainly +in the French revolution there are many indications +that the outsiders got very tired of this, that in the long run +they found the old Catholic ceremonials more to their liking. +One wonders whether in the long run the mass ceremonials +which Stalin as well as Hitler and Mussolini seem to manage +so well will not also wear a bit thin. On the other hand, there +can be no doubt that our modern revolutionists are much +better stage managers than their predecessors.</p> + +<p>The revolutionary mania for renaming seems also to tend to +confuse and annoy the outsider. The English confined their +efforts largely to the names of persons, where they achieved +some remarkable results. We are all familiar with Praise +God Barebone, and Put-thy-Trust-in-Christ-and-Flee-Fornication +Williams is perhaps more than a legend. The Puritans of course +drew chiefly from the Bible and from evangelical abstractions—Faith, +Prudence, Charity, and so on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span></p> + +<p>The French drew from the virtuous days of Roman republicanism, +from the abstractions of the Enlightenment, and +from their own leaders and martyrs. Babeuf, the forerunner of +Socialism, became Gracchus Babeuf. Claude Henri, Comte de +St. Simon, kept his Christian names, but dropped the compromising +contact with a saint, and became Claude Henri +Bonhomme. The unfortunate Leroys (Kings) found it well to +change to Laloys (Laws) or something equally patriotic. One +faithful Jacobin had his child republicanly baptized Libre +Constitution Leturc. The French, however, did not stop with +persons. Corrupt street names were changed, the Place Louis +XV becoming Place de la Révolution, the rue de la Couronne +becoming rue de la Nation. Place names underwent wholesale +changes that must have added greatly to the wartime disruption +of the mail service. Most of the Saints were dropped, +which alone would cause a lot of trouble. Lyons, having sinned +against the revolution by siding with the Federalists, on being +taken by troops of the Convention was re-christened Commune +Affranchie (Freed Town). Le Havre became Havre-Marat. In +the conventional greeting of one’s fellows, monsieur became +citoyen. For a while the word “roi” was under a taboo as +definite as the kind the anthropologist studies, and was actually +cut out of classic authors like Racine. There was an attempt, +possibly serious, possibly journalistic, to change “reine abeille” +into “abeille pondeuse”—“queen bee” into “laying bee.”</p> + +<p>In their determination to uproot everything of the contaminated +past, the French revolutionists decided to revolutionize +the calendar, to do away with names like January, which +recalled the vicious old Roman god Janus, or July, which recalled +the even more vicious Roman tyrant, Julius Caesar. So +they made twelve new months, and named them, in melodious +French, after the glorious works of Nature—<i lang="fr">germinal</i>, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>month of buds, <i lang="fr">fructidor</i>, the month of ripening, <i lang="fr">brumaire</i>, the +month of mists. Although the French boasted the universality +of their revolutionary aims and principles, they were apparently +undisturbed by the narrow limitation of their new calendar to +French climatic conditions. The calendar is, of course, most +inappropriate to Australia, and even to the American midwest.</p> + +<p>The Russians, in addition to their fondness for personal +revolutionary <i lang="fr">noms de guerre</i>, have been particularly addicted +to changing place names, and unlike the French, have hitherto +made them stick, insofar at least as the names were those of +good Stalinists. Catherine the Great, in particular, had put +herself on the map as successfully as did Alexander the Great, +but she has vanished altogether from Soviet Russia. Ekaterinodar +has become Krasnodar, Ekaterineburg Sverdlovsk, and +Ekaterinoslav Dnepropetrovsk. The familiar Nizhni Novgorod +has only recently, with a loss of euphony and great associations, +become Gorki. Stalin, for a living man, has done very well +for himself. Stalinabad is perhaps the most exotic of the Stalin +towns, but most effectively symbolic no doubt was the changing +of Tsaritsyn to Stalingrad—not the only place where Stalin +has replaced the Czar. From long Socialist tradition, “comrade” +took the place occupied by “citizen” in the French revolution. +Children, too, were given names as suitable to the day as were +Praise God and Libre Constitution to their day. Vladilen, a +telescoping of Vladimir and Lenin, is one of the most shockingly +unconventional to an old Russian.</p> + +<p>This renaming is clearly one of the uniformities we can list +for all our revolutions. Even the moderate American revolution +indulged in some renaming. Boston saw King Street and +Queen Street give way to names like Federal and State, thoroughly +suited to the new regime; but for some reason or other +the tainted name of Hanover Street survived. The American +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>name for a certain harmful fly is the Hessian fly, a name given +it in revolutionary days. A kind of cousin of that fly is known +in the South as the Abe Lincoln bug, which is a reminder of +the fact that what we call the Civil War was essentially an +abortive revolution.</p> + +<p>There is no need to worry much over an explanation of this +rage for renaming. Names are to the savage associated with +magic, and we are constantly reminded in these days of our +own nearness to the savage. Change a name and you change +the thing. It’s all very simple. We are here, however, interested +rather in the effect of all this renaming on the outsider, +and we can be reasonably sure that it affords an example of +the kind of thing that begins to wear on him. The revolution +in names is petty enough. But for John Jones life is an accumulation +of petty matters; and John is not built to support +a very complete set of changes in the trivial details of which +his habits are made. Witness Rip Van Winkle.</p> + +<p>There is also, of course, the strain of living under the kind +of government we have in the last chapter described as the +government of the Terror. Even the humblest person, the +person most indifferent to politics, can never tell when the +lightning is going to strike him or his household, when he +may be haled into court as a class enemy or a counter-revolutionary. +Detailed study of this constant threat, this omnipresence +of the government, cannot be attempted here. We +may, however, take up briefly two phases which particularly +affect the outsider.</p> + +<p>First, as we shall see shortly from the point of view of the +insider, all these revolutions have at their crisis a quality unmistakably +puritanical or ascetic or, to use an overworked +word, idealistic. There is a serious attempt by those in authority +to eradicate the minor vices, as well as what some might +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>feel inclined to call the major pleasures. With what the Saints +in England tried to do in the seventeenth century most Americans +are familiar, if only from repercussions in New England. +But Americans, who have always exaggerated the French capacity +for the pleasures of the senses, are perhaps not so aware +of the fact that in ’93 and ’94 there was an earnest attempt +to clean up Paris, to shut up brothels, gaming houses, to eliminate +actual drunkenness. Virtue was the order of the day. You +couldn’t even be lazy. Some Jacobin would be sure to report +you to the club, with the suggestion that the best place to +cure you of unrepublican laziness was the army. The puritanism +of the Bolsheviks may seem even more paradoxical, but it most +certainly existed, and we shall return shortly to its consideration.</p> + +<p>Now there is no doubt that in the better world towards +which we all in some measure aspire, drinking, whoring, gambling, +laziness, boastfulness, and a whole lot of things we all +condemn, will simply not exist. But it seems equally undeniable +that here and now on this earth, and for some generations back, +a fairly large number of human beings have been and are +addicted to one or more of these pursuits, regarding them—not +always consciously with the intellect—as necessary compensations +for dullness or other inadequacies in their daily +lives. We must again remind ourselves that we are not dealing +with moral questions, not praising or condemning, but trying +to arrange facts in a useful order. It seems then that the following +uniformity is clear: the extremists’ attempt to enforce +a life without the ordinary vices within a fairly short time puts +a strain on the outsider very hard for him, or her, to bear.</p> + +<p>Not only is the outsider denied access to what he probably +regards as legitimate amusement; the new authorities will not +even leave him to himself. Revolutions are very hard indeed on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>privacy. Gorki once wrote that “Lenin was a man who prevented +people from leading their accustomed lives as no one +before him was able to do.” This is no doubt a rhetorical exaggeration, +but one can see what Gorki is getting at. And as +people have a certain inertia in the direction of leading their +“accustomed lives,” we can perhaps understand better why +Stalin rather than Trotsky has proved to be Lenin’s successor. +In the crisis period the revolution comes to hound John Jones +in whatever he does. In a revolution even the conventional +back-biting, gossip and hatreds of ordinary social life are intensified +beyond endurance. The Jacobins, especially in the +provinces, were eager to pick up any bit of gossip that would +show a reform was needed. Citizen W should keep his dog tied +up, citizen X should be made to marry the girl, citizen Y +should be admonished against outbursts of temper, rich citizen +Z should be made to give his consent to the marriage of his +daughter to a poor but honest Jacobin youth in good standing +with the club. One expects this sort of thing from one’s own +family and friends, but not, even in the totalitarian state, from +the government. The Germans have a delightful proverb, which +may perhaps give them some solace today: “The soup is never +eaten as hot as it’s cooked.” But certainly in the crisis period +of revolutions there is an effort to force it steaming down the +throat of the ordinary citizen. In the long run, he can’t stand +it, and his cooks learn their lesson and allow it to cool off a bit. +But that is in the period of convalescence from the revolutionary +fever.</p> + +<p>Shut out from his ordinary pleasures and vices, constrained +to fight for, or at least to cheer long, loud, and conspicuously +for the revolutionary state in its struggle with foreign and civil +foes, exposed to privation and suffering from scarcity attendant +on war and the inevitable inefficiencies of the new government, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>urged to the “height of revolutionary circumstances” on every +hand, in press, theater, pulpit, rostrum, mass demonstration, +above all inescapably caught in the common and very exhausting +nervous excitement which marks the crisis period, John +Jones sooner or later finds these strains insupportable, and gets +ready to welcome anyone who can throw the extremists out. +Perhaps no one of these strains would be in itself unbearable, +though it does seem likely that there is a kind of saturation +point in large-scale, obsessive political propaganda after which +such propaganda actually backfires. We may hope to learn +more in this respect from contemporary German and Russian +experience. At any rate, the converging series of pressures outlined +above seems clearly to have put too great a strain on +the outsider in our revolutions.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_220"><em>III. The Terror and the Insider: The Religious Parallel</em></h3> + +<p>To the insider, to the true believer, the revolution appears +as a very different thing in this crisis period, though one may +guess that for some of the less ardent insiders much of what +has been said about the outsiders begins, after a while, to hold +true also. The revolution begins to take too much out of him, +and he begins to have his hesitations and his doubts, to be +bored with the endless ceremonies, deputations, committees, +tribunals, militia work, and the other chores necessary to +achieve the reign of virtue on earth. He, too, becomes an outsider. +But the true faithful stay to the end, to the block, the +guillotine, the firing-squad, or exile.</p> + +<p>Now to this insider it would seem that the service of the +revolution supplies many of the satisfactions commonly supplied +by what we call religion. This analogy with religion has +been frequently made. It has been applied, not only to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>English revolution where its fitness is undisputed, but also +to the French and Russian revolutions. Since both Jacobins +and Bolsheviks were violently hostile to Christianity and +boasted themselves atheists or at least deists, this analogy has +given a great deal of offense both to Christians and to their +enemies. For the Marxist in particular the assertion that his +behavior has similarities with the behavior of men under the +acknowledged influence of religion is like a red rag to a bull. +Nor is the Marxist wholly unjustified in his anger, for the glib +phrase, “Oh, the Communists are just another fanatical sect,” +is frequently thrown out by shallow conservatives as at once +a reproach and a dismissal. Actually, to judge from past experience, +it would seem that large numbers of men can be +brought to do certain very important things of the kind the +Communists want to have done only under the influence of +what we call religion; that is, some pattern of more or less +similar sentiments, moral aspirations, and ritualistic practices. +Marxism as a religion has already got a great deal done; Marxism +as a “scientific theory” alone would hardly have got beyond +the covers of <cite>Das Kapital</cite> and the learned journals.</p> + +<p>But the dispute sketched above is endless, and we are not +rash enough to suppose we can settle it. Those who use the +term “religion” in this connection seem to us to be trying to +describe a phenomenon of the world of sense-experience, one +that needs to be integrated with other phenomena of revolutions. +It is certainly true, however, that this use apparently +arouses in many persons emotions unfavorable to the continued +objective study of the subject. Anyone who could +suggest a neutral term as effectively pointing to the same phenomena +as does the term “religion” would be performing a +great service for sociology. No such term at present existing, we +shall have to continue to use the word “religion.” We must +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>insist that this word does not refer necessarily and exclusively +to a formally theistic cult like Christianity; and above all, that +it does not necessarily imply belief in the “supernatural.” We +take it that in the present analysis the important thing about +a religious belief is that under its influence men work very +hard and excitedly in common to achieve here or somewhere +an ideal, a pattern of life not at the moment universally—or +even largely—achieved. Religion attempts to close in favor of +the best of human hopes the gap between what men are and +what men would like to be; at least in its young and active +phase, it will not for a moment admit that such a gap can +long exist.</p> + +<p>To discern the element of religion in the behavior of the +ardent extremist is not to deny the existence of economic motives. +Indeed, at this stage some of the most acute phases of +the struggle among classes are to be noticed, and form one of +the uniformities we can clearly consider established. Whatever +the place of economic class struggles in the days just before +the revolution—and in our four revolutions it takes varied +forms by no means adequately summed up in phrases such +as “feudal nobility,” “middle class,” and “proletariat”—once +the revolution gets going these class struggles have at least +one phase common in all four societies. The property of many, +if not most, of those openly and stubbornly identified with the +beaten parties is confiscated for the benefit of the successful +parties, identified as “the people.” Furthermore, as the different +moderate groups are defeated their property, too, is commonly +confiscated in the same way.</p> + +<p>In the English revolution the Royalists lost a large part of +their property, mostly in land; and though lay Presbyterians +were not as a rule subjected to confiscation of property unless +they were actively on the wrong side in politics, there was a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>great deal of easing Presbyterians and other unacceptable ecclesiastics +out of their livings. Laurence Washington, a clergyman, +the father of the John of Virginia, and a direct ancestor +of George, was “plundered” as the phrase went in 1643, +cause he was said to have said that the parliamentary army +had more papists in it than there were around the King. That +is to say, he was deprived of his living. We need hardly be +reminded that Loyalist property was confiscated during the +American revolution. Indeed the late J. F. Jameson concludes +that in a quiet way—quiet at least for revolutions—the American +revolution effected in its whole course a very sensible +democratization, or spreading into smaller units, of ownership +of property in this country. Both in France and in Russia the +revolutions saw the confiscation primarily of land, but even +in France to some extent also of capital, and their redistribution. +We need not go into detail here on these agrarian problems. +Sufficient to state that many of those who came to the +top in the crisis period, both leaders and followers, had good +reason to hope that by staying on top their economic status +would be consistently better than it had been. This is true +regardless of what theories and ideals, laissez-faire or Socialism, +were appealed to as guiding the new distribution.</p> + +<p>But though we must recognize the economic motive, as we +recognize the drive to centralization to repel attacks from within +and without, our picture is incomplete until we consider those +elements unavoidably called religious. Partly because the economic +and political elements are in their conventional sense +familiar to most people nowadays, partly because these religious +elements appear to be among the most important +variables in the situation, we are here emphasizing them. They +seem to be among the most important variables because their +presence in an acute form gives a different and much more pervasive +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>tone to the political and economic elements of struggle, +which frequently occur by themselves in very similar form and +even somewhat similar intensity in situations we do not commonly +label revolutionary. It is also true that in the growth +of Wesleyan Methodism in eighteenth-century England, for +instance, in times not to be called revolutionary, one finds +actively religious behavior among large numbers of people, +behavior in many ways like that we are going to analyze in our +revolutionary insider. But Wesleyanism was politically conservative +on the whole, and not directed at a given social and political +system. The whole point, indeed, of the three revolutions +we are about to analyze is that religious enthusiasms, +organization, ritual and ideas appear inextricably bound up +with economic and political aims.</p> + +<p>The insiders in all three of our complete revolutions, and +indeed to a certain extent in the fourth, the American revolution, +seem to have wished to put into life here on earth some +of the order, the discipline, the contempt for the easy vices, +which the Calvinist sought to put there. Indeed our first +revolution, the English, is commonly labeled the Calvinist +or Puritan revolution. Here we may expect a protest from the +Communists, an indignant assertion that Marx put such Christian +weaknesses as a desire to subdue the flesh well behind +him, that his followers are all for an abundance of food and +drink, and the other good things of this world for everybody. +We shall return to that question in a moment. In the meantime +we can begin to see some lurking ascetic tendency in +Communism if we reflect on how indignant good Communists +would be over the slogan “wine, women, and song for everybody.”</p> + +<p>That the Puritans were in some sense puritanical we can +take in stride as a reasonable assumption. Indeed, at present +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>it is probably more useful to try to show that the historical +Puritans both in old and new England were not quite +the complete killjoys the school of H. L. Mencken would +make them out to have been. As for the Jacobins, their legislation +and above all their somewhat informal administration in +1793-94 had striking analogies with the kind of things the +English Puritans tried to put over. The Jacobins were in principle +against gambling, drunkenness, sexual irregularities of all +sorts, ostentatious display of poverty, idleness, thieving, and of +course in general all sorts of crimes. In practice they felt at +liberty to enforce abstention from these vices and to insist +with force on the carrying out of positive acts of virtue—such +as selling goods always at the legal fixed maximum price, even +if a little bootlegging seemed quite safe, attending celebrations +in honor of the Supreme Being on <i lang="fr">décadi</i>, expressing +in public the opinion that William Pitt was a corrupt villain, +and the English nation a lot of pathetic slaves. Such a system +of action they sought to enforce by making each man his own +detective, God’s own private spy, much as was said to have +been done in Calvin’s own Geneva.</p> + +<p>Those who chiefly did the prying were the members of the +local clubs, urged on by the local leaders, just as with the +Puritans it was the parish clergy, aided by the active elders of +the church, who saw to it that the sheep were properly shepherded. +The most undignified matters, apparently the most +insignificant also, might under these conditions set a parish or +a community on end. The first dissension in the English +Separatist Church at Amsterdam, we are told, arose not over +any point of doctrine or ritual, but over the lace on Mrs. +Francis Johnson’s sleeve. One could find dozens of parallels +for this in the behavior of the Jacobins. There was the lively +debate in a little club in Normandy over the question whether +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>citizen doctor X wasn’t making his professional calls on aristocrats +too long, his calls on patriots too short. And the great +row at Bourgoin when the secretary announced that he wasn’t +going to wear the red Liberty cap because it didn’t become +him. This shocking display of vanity overcoming patriotism unleashed +the full fury of the virtuous Republicans of Bourgoin, +and the secretary was lucky to escape with his life.</p> + +<p>The other-worldliness of the Russian revolutionists affords +a problem more apparent than important, or even real. It is +quite true that “philosophically” modern Communism is based +on materialism, that it denies the immortality of the soul and +indeed the existence of a soul, that it insists men must be +happy here on earth, enjoying the good things of this earth. +But surely it is most important if you wish to understand the +problems of men in society to find out what men do, how they +behave, as well as what they say on paper or in the pulpit that +they are doing, or want to do, or ought to do. It is also quite +true that Communists, fellow-travelers, as the Communists +like to call their sentimental followers among the intellectuals, +and the brethren of the Left in general in this country tend +to be extremely indignant when their behavior is analyzed as +we propose to analyze it. Here, as so often, indignation is not +refutation.</p> + +<p>That the Bolshevik leaders were almost all ascetics is perhaps +a commonplace. Lenin was notably austere and contemptuous +of ordinary comfort, and at the height of his power +his apartments in the Kremlin were of barrack-like simplicity. +Some of Lenin’s sayings sound like the bourgeois Calvinists +as analyzed by Max Weber, or even by Mr. R. H. Tawney: +“Carry out an accurate and honest account of money, manage +economically, don’t loaf, don’t steal, maintain the strictest +discipline in labor.” Indeed, the general tone among the high +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>command of Bolshevism was in those early years that of a +consecrated and almost monastic group. In a Russia where men +were starving or freezing it was for one thing pretty impolitic +for leaders to look too sleek and well-fed. But just as the pressure +of the war is not a complete explanation for the Terror, +so neither necessity nor policy explains the asceticism of the +Bolsheviks. They felt, as the Puritans had felt, that the ordinary +vices and weaknesses of human beings are disgusting, that +the good life cannot be led until they are eliminated. Early +the Bolsheviks prohibited the national drink, vodka, and almost +all the early soviets took steps against prostitution, gambling, +night life, and so on. Theoretically the Bolsheviks +thought women should be free, for instance, free from the +shocking limitations bourgeois laws had put upon them; hence +the notable freedom allowed in Russia as to marriage, divorce, +abortion, and other phases of family and sex relationships. But +the Bolsheviks did not intend by this that women were to be +free to behave as they were sure they secretly behaved—or +wanted to behave—in dissolute old bourgeois society. On the +contrary, they expected their women to behave as they would +behave in the classless society—and though vague, that is a +pretty strict canon.</p> + +<p>Even today, when apparently the crisis stage is over in +Russia, there are numerous survivals of the intense asceticism +of the true Communist party members of the crisis period. In +their innocent book on Soviet Russia, the innocent Webbs +declare that there is no asceticism in Russia, of course, and then +go on and explain how the Comsomols (Communist Youth) +are encouraged to take the pledge—not for any silly evangelical +reasons, heavens, no, but because drinking anything alcoholic +is “a breach of the rule requiring maintenance of perfect +health.” Petting, too, is very definitely discouraged as unworthy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>of the Communist Youth, especially when it is done +in public. “Nothing pornographic is allowed in literature or in +any form of art. There is less public sex appeal in evidence +in Russia than in any Western land.” Since the Webbs wrote +this, the Russians seem to have relaxed a bit in their public +restraints, and the Germans, in the freshness of their revolution, +have gone very puritanical in such matters. Berlin, which +used to provide the broadest range of sexual activity in the +world, has now outwardly taken on a Lutheran and Teutonic +virtue, while the existence of public prostitution in Moscow +and Leningrad can hardly escape even visiting members of +the British Labour party.</p> + +<p>The Russians of old being notoriously dirty about their +public places—almost as dirty as we Americans are—the new +regime has made it a point of discipline that no litter, papers, +and such-like truck be left in public parks, streets, and stations. +Indeed, membership in the Communist party itself, always a +very select and disciplined minority, demanded for years, and +to a certain extent still demands, the exercise of a great deal +of self-restraint, a willingness to live simply, to work hard, to +conform to very high standards of personal morality. As usual +in such circumstances, and as we have already noted for the +Puritans and the Jacobins, self-restraint was apparently not +enough, and there grew up in Russia all sorts of official and +unofficial methods of spying, prying, checking-up on the actions +of individuals, and controlling them by Terrorist methods. +Many of these agencies are now serving the Stalinite reaction, +as similar agencies in France and in England served the +Thermidorean reaction and the Stuart restoration.</p> + +<p>Now groups thoroughly disciplined into lives almost as unnaturally +ascetic as those our Puritans, Jacobins, and Bolshevists +sought to impose have existed for relatively long periods. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>The Spartiates contrived to support an almost heroic Communism +for several centuries. But this discipline is of slow +growth, intimately tied up with the kind of behavior in men +that changes with geological slowness. A revolution cannot +manufacture this kind of discipline overnight, and perhaps +the violence—and here is meant rather spiritual violence than +mere bloodshed—of the Terror is in some sense an overcompensation +for the inability of the extremists to carry their +ordinary brothers along with them. The Terror is a desperate +overshooting of the mark. Again, the existence in individuals +of a certain amount of inclination to meddle with their neighbor’s +private affairs is probably a useful thing, part of what +cements societies together. But here, too, the ardent revolutionists +overshoot the mark and make life unbearable for their +neighbors.</p> + +<p>There are traces of this kind of organized asceticism, this +crusade against the customary vices, even in the American +revolution, where the crisis stage was never as intense as in +our other revolutions. There were many restrictive measures +justified chiefly as necessary to the efficient prosecution of the +war against George III. There were others quite as obviously +dictated by the traditions of middle-class Protestant ethics +which had long been established in the Middle Colonies and +in New England. But here and there one encounters the true +accent of revolutionary idealism. Here is a passage worthy of +Robespierre: “Titles are the offspring of monarchical and +arbitrary governments. While the object of the present war +with Great Britain was reconciliation, the titles of excellency, +honorable, etc., were submitted to by the people of America, +but since the Declaration of Independence, the colonies have +divorced monarchy forever, and become free, independent +states. It becomes then necessary to adopt the simple language +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>of free governments.... Let us leave the titles of excellency +and honorable to the abandoned servants of a tyrant King ... +while we satisfy ourselves with beholding our senators, governors, +and generals rich in real excellence and honor.”</p> + +<p>The Baltimore Committee which in April, 1775, “recommended +to the people of the county not to encourage or attend +the approaching fair because of its tendency to encourage +horse-racing, gaming, drunkenness, and other dissipation” was +going beyond the strict necessities of the situation. Again we +find a neat illustration from the pen of a Connecticut patriot +writing in July, 1775: “Wednesday evening last, a number +of ladies and gentlemen collected at a place called East Farms, +in Connecticut, where they had a needless entertainment, and +made themselves extremely merry with a good glass of wine. +Such entertainments and diversions can hardly be justified +upon any occasion; but at such a day as this, when everything +around us has a threatening aspect, they ought to be discountenanced, +and every good man should use his influence to suppress +them.”</p> + +<p>Our orthodox and successful extremists, then, are crusaders, +fanatics, ascetics, men who seek to bring heaven to earth. No +doubt many of them are hypocrites, career-seekers masquerading +as believers, no doubt many of them climb on the band-wagon +for selfish motives. Yet it is most unrealistic to hold +that men may not be allowed to reconcile their interests with +their ideas. Many an ardent and sincere follower of Robespierre, +many a seeker after Calvinist truth, was able, with the best of +conscience, to buy lands confiscated from the unrepublican or +the ungodly. Our extremists are also, as the intimate details +of their daily lives should convince us, for the most part quite +ordinary people, with the loves and hatreds, aspirations and +doubts, hopes and fears, of ordinary people. Once the crisis +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>period is over, they will, save for the few born martyrs, cease +to be crusaders, fanatics, ascetics. Their revolutionary beliefs +will be softly cushioned in a comfortable ritual, will be a consolation +and a habit rather than a constant prick of the ideal. +But now, in the crisis period, they are in what we may call the +active phase of a religion. Let us briefly take up some of the +striking characteristics of this phase in our three societies.</p> + +<p>Calvinism, Jacobinism, Marxism, are all rigidly deterministic. +All believe that what happens here below is foreordained, predestined +to follow a course which no mere human being can +alter, least of all those who oppose respectively Calvinism, +Jacobinism, or Marxism. In fact, the more priest and prelate +storm and rage, the more certain is the Calvinists’ victory. The +acts of aristocrats, traitors, Pitts and Cobourgs can but make +the triumph of the French Republic greater. The harder the +Rockefellers and the Morgans work, the more capitalistic their +behavior, the sooner will come the inevitable glorious and final +uprising of the proletariat. God for the Calvinist, Nature-Reason +for the Jacobin, Dialectical or Scientific Materialism for +the Marxist, provide comforting assurance that the believer is +on the side that <em>must</em> win. Obviously the belief that you can’t +lose will in most—not all—cases make you a better fighter.</p> + +<p>Those whom God, Nature, or Science has chosen are quite +willing to advertise the fact of this choice, and, indeed, display +an inconsistency which is purely logical, and not at all of +the emotions, in that they seem very anxious to help the inevitable +come about. Rigid determinists are also usually ardent +proselyters, presumably on the grounds that they are instruments +of the inevitable, the means through which the inevitable +realizes itself. They do not, however, seem to behave as +if they held that resistance to their proselyting, refusal of unbelievers +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>to accept their message, were also determined, inevitable, +and even pardonable.</p> + +<p>At any rate, our revolutionists all sought to spread the gospel +of their revolution. What we now call “nationalism” is certainly +present as an element in all these revolutionary gospels. +But at least in the earlier years, and during the crisis of a +revolution, crude notions of national expansion do not prevail. +The lucky people to whom the gospel has been revealed wish +to spread it properly abroad. In the Messianic fervor of the +crisis period, aggressive nationalism is not on the surface. +Underneath it doubtless helps drive the revolutionists on, and +in the period of reaction it emerges into the light, barely if at +all disguised as the “destiny” of a chosen people and its +leader. The Jacobins announced they were bringing the blessings +of freedom to all the people of the earth, and such is the +power of imagination that some men still think of Napoleon +as agent of the new freedom. The Bolsheviks are present to +all our generation as great apostles of a world-wide revolution. +Most of us can still remember the days when fearful folk in +conservative lands looked under their beds each night for +emissaries of Moscow.</p> + +<p>The Calvinists as Christians, of course, were ardent proselyters. +But the victorious English Independents were also capable +of mixing their religious with political propaganda, were +anxious to win the world over to their superior form of society. +Cromwell’s famous collaborator, Admiral Blake, used to spread +the gospel in foreign lands. Thanks to the example of England, +Blake said, “All kingdoms will annihilate tyranny and +become republics.” England had done so already. France was +following in her wake; and as the natural gravity of the Spaniards +rendered them somewhat slower, he gave them ten years. +All Europe is shortly to be republican—and this in the 1650’s! +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>Those who today boast or bemoan that soon the Western +world will be all Communist, or all Fascist, or all Democratic, +might ponder awhile the circumstances of this remark of +Blake’s.</p> + +<p>A good deal of ink and oratory has been expended over this +effort of the extremists to propagate their faiths among the +nations. Conservatives in other nations are naturally very suspicious. +Moscow gold must be at the bottom of every liberal +or radical movement; there is an organized international plot +to establish the world-rule of atheistic Jacobinism and destroy +Christianity. Probably in most cases these fears and suspicions +are much exaggerated. The revolutionists are usually too poor, +and too occupied at home, to devote more than a small part +of their energies to these foreign missions. There are, moreover, +in the other countries usually enough disgruntled natives +to form a solid nucleus for revolutionary action. The importation +into these countries of English, French, or Russian phrases +and other revolutionary fashions is the most natural thing in +the world.</p> + +<p>At any rate, there is no doubt about the fact of the uniformity. +Even in the seventeenth century, when the world was +so much larger, so much slower to cross, the English revolution +spread itself abroad. Edward Sexby at Bordeaux proposed +to the French radicals a republican constitution which was to +be called <cite>L’Accord du Peuple</cite>—an adaptation of the English +Agreement of the People—and was obliged in consequence to +flee the town. In Holland at the news of trouble in England, +“the people began to take sides for one or the other of the +parties and with such fervor that in many cases they came to +blows.” This sounds a lot like the behavior of Federalists and +Republicans in the United States in the 1790’s, when the +French revolution provided most of the dramatic material of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>American politics. But the point need not be labored. Similar +examples from the Russian revolution will occur to almost +everyone.</p> + +<p>The religious parallel may be pushed a bit further. Our +revolutionists are convinced that they are the elect, destined +to carry out the will of God, Nature, or Science. That feeling +was particularly strong among the Russian Communists, where +in pure logic it should be less strong than among the Calvinists, +believers in a personal God. The opponents of these +revolutionists are not just political enemies, not just mistaken +men, grafters, log-rollers, or damned fools; they are sinners, +and must not merely be beaten—they must be wiped out. +Hence the justification of the guillotine and the firing-squad. +For our revolutionists display that vigorous intolerance which +in the logic of the emotions as well as in that of the intellect, +follows perfectly on the conviction of being absolutely, eternally, +monopolistically right. If there is but one truth, and you +have that truth completely, toleration of differences means an +encouragement to error, crime, evil, sin. Indeed, toleration in +this sense is harmful to the tolerated, as well as very trying +on the tolerator. As Bellarmine said, it is a positive benefit to +obstinate heretics to kill them because the longer they live +the more damnation they heap upon themselves.</p> + +<p>These revolutionary faiths are very interesting in their +eschatologies, their notions of final ends like heaven and hell. +The English revolution was dominated by some of the wilder +as well as by the more conventional of Christian eschatologies. +The Millenarians expected the second coming year after year. +The rule of the Saints was just around the corner. The Jacobins +had a much less concrete notion of heaven, and this heaven was +to be definitely here on earth—the republic of Virtue which +we have seen as Robespierre’s ideal. After the dictatorship of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>the revolutionary government, this perfect republic was to appear, +and Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, would be more than a +slogan. To hardened Americans a republic doesn’t sound at all +like a heaven, but we must believe that it was very different +for the earnest Jacobin of 1794. The Russian heaven is the +classless society, to be attained after the purgatory of the dictatorship +of the proletariat has slowly put an end to the worldly +miseries of the class struggle. It seems that even the Stalinists +admit being still in purgatory. The specific content of life in +the classless society is somewhat vaguely described by most +Communists; and Marx himself, unlike Mohammed, went into +no details about his heaven. There will be competition, one +gathers, but no struggle, and certainly no struggle over economic +goods. Competition will be on a lofty plane, as among +artists. Perhaps there will be competition in love? At any rate, +as in a more robust heaven, the old German Valhalla, the +heroes will fight all day, but at night their wounds will heal.</p> + +<p>All of these faiths were incorporated in social groups, and +hence had rituals. The present writer has elsewhere described +at some length the Jacobin ritual, a strange hodgepodge of +Catholic, Protestant, classical and other elements, with Republican +creeds, Republican baptisms and prayers, even with a +revolutionary sign of the cross in the name of <i lang="fr">Marat, Le Pelletier, +la liberté ou la mort</i>. Communist ritual is less crudely +imitative, and perhaps less rich. But it is just as definite, as you +will find in talking to an initiated Communist. Marx’s <cite>Das +Kapital</cite>, of course, is hardly ever read in orthodox circles except +ritualistically. The French revolutionists had their saints and +martyrs, especially the murdered Marat: the apotheosis of Lenin, +clearly begun in his lifetime, has become a cult centered around +his tomb in Moscow. Lenin is perhaps, like Jeremy Bentham +preserved in University College, London, a purely secularist +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>saint; but a saint he is. Stalin, we are told, has had to fight +very hard the tendency of simple Russian folk to mix a certain +amount of superstition with their natural devotion to their +present great leader. He would not care to be classed with the +old icons. Smaller groups, like the Communist Youth, are +brought up in an atmosphere of ritual, are in this respect more +like some of the social side-shows of our Protestant churches +than like comparatively secular groups such as the Boy Scouts.</p> + +<p>Religious symbolism goes along with this ritual, and was +especially developed in France. During the Terror, one met +symbolic devices everywhere: the eye of surveillance, seeking +out the enemies of the Republic; the triangle of Liberty, Equality, +Fraternity; the Phrygian cap of liberty, the <i lang="fr">bonnet rouge</i>; +the carpenter’s level, symbolizing equality; any kind of mound, +which served as symbol for the beneficent Mountain, the party +that had carried out the revolution to its logical end. Most +of these and many other symbols are to be found in the elaborate +pageant of the 20th Prairial at Paris, when Robespierre +personally supervised the festival of the Supreme Being. The +Russians, aided by modern poster technique, have made a +similar, if less pedantic, use of symbols to hold the people together +in a Communist society.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_236"><em>IV. What Makes the Terror?</em></h3> + +<p>In the crisis periods of all four of our revolutions we may +distinguish the same set of variables, differently combined and +mixed with all sorts of contingent factors to produce the specific +situations the narrative historian of these revolutions tends +to regard as unique. There are no doubt a very great number +of these variables, but for the purposes of a first approximation +we may here distinguish seven. These seem not to be related +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>one to another in any important one-way causal relationship. +They seem, indeed, more or less like the independent variables +of the mathematician, though it is inconceivable that they +should be strictly independent. The temptation to single out +one of them as the “cause” of the Terror is, like the temptation +to find a hero or a villain in any situation, hard to resist. +And each one of them has a history, goes back at least to the +last generation or two of the old regime.</p> + +<p>They are all woven together in a complicated pattern of +reality; but without all of them—and this is the important +point—you would not have a Reign of Terror, would not have +a full crisis in the revolution. The problem of their possible +independence need not worry us. Temperature and pressure are +independent variables in the mathematical formulation of +the laws of thermodynamics; but ice can form at 0° centigrade +only if the pressure is negligibly small. We have already stressed +this point, perhaps beyond the bounds of good writing. But +the old notion of simple, linear, one-way causation is so rooted +in our habits of thought, is indeed so useful to us in daily +life, that we almost instinctively demand an explanation of a +complex situation like the Terror which will enable us to isolate +a villain-cause—or a hero-cause.</p> + +<p>First, there is what we may call the habit of violence, the +paradoxical situation of a people conditioned to expect the +unexpected. The more violent and terroristic periods of our +revolutions come only after a series of troubles have prepared +the way. Not until after several years of civil war in England +did the Independents carry out their rigorous measures against +the habitual ways of “Merrie England.” The Terror in France +in a formal sense does not begin until late in 1793; sporadic +outbreaks like the Great Fear of 1789 and the September +Massacres of 1792 simply help to establish the mood necessary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>for a Terror. Even in Russia, where events were telescoped together +in a shorter period than in any of our other revolutions, +organized violence under the patronage of the government does +not clearly appear until the autumn of 1918, a year and a half +after the outbreak against the Czar. A telegram from Petrovsky +to all soviets is quoted by Mr. Chamberlin, who sees in this +the signal for organized Terror. “Last of all, the rear of our +armies must be finally cleared of all White Guardism and all +scoundrelly conspirators against the power of the working class +and the poorest peasants. Not the least wavering, not the least +indecision in the application of mass terror.”</p> + +<p>This telegram brings forward a second and most important +variable—the pressure of a foreign and civil war. War necessities +help explain the rapid centralization of the government of +the Terror, the hostility to dissenters within the group—they +now seem deserters—the widespread excitement which our +generation knows well enough by the cant term “war psychosis.” +Both in France and in Russia there is a rough correlation +between the military situation of the revolutionary armies and +the violence of the Terror; as the danger of defeat grows, +so does the number of victims of revolutionary tribunals. There +is, however, a certain lag, and the Terror continues after the +worst of the military danger is over. We may again recall that +in England the Irish and the Scotch fulfilled the function of +the foreign enemy, even though Great Britain kept free of the +continent during the whole period. And both in America and +in England the crisis period was accompanied by a formal war, +largely a civil war. No sensible person would wish to deny the +important place these wars have in the total situation we have +called the crisis period.</p> + +<p>Third, there is the newness of the machinery of this centralized +government. The extremists are certainly not—and we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>have already emphasized this point—altogether without experience +in handling men, though they have dealt with <em>revolutionists</em>, +not with <em>all men</em>. Their long apprenticeship in the +cause of the revolution has been a political training of a sort. +And in many ways their new network of institutions is able +to use some of the routine channels used by the old government. +This is especially true in local government. Nevertheless, +it is certainly true that the institutions of the Terror are +in a sense new, that they do not work smoothly, that those +charged with administering them, even if they are not politically +inexperienced, are administratively inexperienced. The machinery +of the Terror works in fits and starts, and frequently +jams badly. Conflicts between administrators arise, and are +settled in no routine manner, but by violence. Each failure of +the machine annoys those who are trying to run it, and impels +them to a new and sudden decision, to another act of violence. +This in turn further jams the machinery. It is our old friend +the vicious circle.</p> + +<p>Fourth, this is also a time of acute economic crisis—not +merely what we now call a depression, but a definite shortage +of the necessities of life. Again it must be recalled that the +Terror does not come at once, in the very beginning of the +revolution, but is preceded by a time of troubles very disrupting +to the ordinary processes of production. Capital gets frightened +and begins to leave the country. Business men hesitate +to undertake new enterprises or to continue on the same basis +with the old. Peasant risings lessen agricultural production. +Then comes the war with its demand for men and munitions. +The ensuing dictatorship of the victorious extremists is in part +an economic dictatorship, a supervision of the whole economic +life of the country, controlled currency, price-fixing, food-rationing, +a socialism of the fact long before Marx. The difficulty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>of distributing inadequate supplies further tries the temper +of administrators, adds to the opportunities of denunciators +and spies, serves to maintain and sharpen the peculiar excitement, +the universal jumpiness of the Terror. It adds to the +tenseness of the class struggles which we have already discerned +in our study of the old regimes.</p> + +<p>In one form or another our fifth variable, class struggles, +clearly appears in the crises of all our revolutions. The hatred +of Puritan for Cavalier, of Jacobin for aristocrats, Federalists, +and other enemies of the Republic of Virtue, the hatred of +Bolsheviks for Whites, Kadets and compromisists, of American +Whigs for Tories, was in itself an elaborate compound. +One element in this compound was probably about what the +Marxist means when he talks about the class struggle. At any +rate, by the time of the Terror the different antagonistic groups +within the society have polarized into the orthodox revolutionists +in power and the somewhat mixed bloc of their enemies. +Heightened like all other tensions and conflicts by the course +of the revolution, these class antagonisms now take on a sharpness +they normally possess only in the writings and speeches +of intellectuals and agitators. The party spirit, which is in one +element probably but one form of the antagonism between +classes, here seizes upon the most trivial symbols to make +men aware of their irreconciliable differences. Thus the Jacobins +adopted the term “sans-culottes” as a rallying cry to emphasize +the class struggle. The culottes are the knee-breeches +of the silk-stockinged gentlemen of the old regime, and those +without <i lang="fr">culottes</i> presumably wore the long trousers of the common +man, the workingman. The Russian revolution was filled +with the slogans of the class struggle in the narrow Marxist +sense. Now though there was much more than class struggles +in our revolutions, and though these struggles are not quite as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>simply determined as many believers in the economic interpretation +of history sometimes make out, it would be very foolish +to deny the importance of one of the variables in the Terror—those +antagonisms between groups or “classes” largely held together +by economic interests and by a common social and +intellectual heritage, a common way of life, which our generation +knows as the class struggle.</p> + +<p>Our sixth variable is even more obviously than the others an +abstraction, a presumably useful way of gathering together a +great number of concrete facts. It is not logically on an exact +level with our other variables, and would not fit into a nice +series of philosophical categories. This is a variable based on +observation of the behavior of the relatively small group of +leaders formed during the revolution and now in control of +the government of the Terror. Much of their behavior is affected, +like the behavior of their followers and fellow-citizens, +by the other variables in our list, and no doubt by much that +has escaped us. But some very important elements in their +behavior depend on the fact that they are leaders, that they +have gone through a certain apprenticeship in revolutionary +tactics, that they have been selected, almost in a Darwinian +sense, for their ability to manipulate an extremist revolutionary +group. This does not mean that they are necessarily or even +usually “impractical” men, “theoreticians,” “metaphysicians,” +or any other of the names simple critics like Taine invented for +them. It does mean that they are not formed for compromise, +for the dull expedients of politics in unexcited, relatively stable +societies. It does mean that they are formed to push on to +extremes, to use their special influence to heighten the already +high tension of life in society. Like all politicians, they have +learned the skills necessary for success in their trade; they have +come to feel their trade is something like a game, as indeed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>it is; but they are reckless players, apt to play to the gallery, +and always trying for a home run. No good revolutionary leader +would ever bunt. Moreover, they are at least as jealous of one +another as, to use another comparison, actors, and each one +must always try for the center of the stage. What in more +ordinary times has been lately no more than a conventional +struggle for power among politicians is thus in the crisis period +of revolutions stepped up to a murderous intensity.</p> + +<p>Finally, there is the variable we have dwelt upon at length +in an earlier part of this chapter. This is the element of religious +faith shared by Independents, Jacobins, Bolsheviks. We +need not here repeat what we have just written about the +religious aspect of the Reigns of Terror. But it is this element +that makes the Reigns of Terror also Reigns of Virtue, heroic +attempts to close once for all the gap between human nature +and human aspirations. This is but one of the variables, but it +is a very important one. Religious aims and emotions help to +differentiate the crises of our revolutions from ordinary military +or economic crises, and to give to the Reigns of Terror +and Virtue their extraordinary mixture of spiritual fury, of +exaltation, of devotion and self-sacrifice, of cruelty, madness and +high-grade humbug.</p> + +<p>Now all these elements are in constant interaction one with +another, a change in one effecting complex corresponding +changes in all the others, and hence in the total situation. We +must not think of them in terms of horse and cart, or chicken +and egg, or of one billiard ball hitting another. It is instead as +complicated and mad a chase as we conceive that of the molecules +in a physico-chemical system. Thus the stresses and +strains of the early stages of our revolutions make it easier to +work the nation into war—witness the war-provoking Girondins +in France—and the war itself increases the stresses, accustoms +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>people to violence and suspense. War makes for economic +scarcity and economic scarcity sharpens the class struggle, and +so on in a merry round-robin. All these effects, up to the end +of the crisis period, are cumulative. Each old habit sloughed +off, each definite break with the past at once invites others and +increases the strain upon everybody, or nearly everybody, in the +social system.</p> + +<p>For it would seem to be an observable fact of human behavior +that large numbers of men can stand only so much interference +with the routines and rituals of their daily existence. +It would also seem that most men cannot long stand the strain +of prolonged effort to live in accordance with very high ideals. +The outsider in the crisis period is pushed to the limit of his endurance +by interference with some of his most prized and intimate +routines; the insider is held to a pitch of spiritual effort +and excitement beyond his powers of endurance. For both +sorts of men there would seem to be a limit to their social +action as real as the limit a chemist finds for a chemical reaction. +Human beings can go only so far and so long under +the stimulus of an ideal. Social systems composed of human +beings can endure for but a limited time the concerted attempt +to bring heaven to earth which we call the Reign of Terror and +Virtue. Thermidor comes as naturally to societies in revolution +as an ebbing tide, as calm after a storm, as convalescence after +fever, as the snapping-back of a stretched elastic band. Such +figures of speech, taken from established uniformities in the +physical world, seem to impose themselves. Perhaps, in spite +of the efforts of philosophers, theologians, moralists, political +theorists, social scientists, and a good many other inspired +thinkers in the last two thousand years, social systems are still +almost as perversely unaffected by revolutionary good intentions +as tides or rubber bands.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_eight"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">eight</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">THERMIDOR</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_244"><em>I. Universality of the Thermidorean Reaction</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">As we have had to note in earlier attempts to fit our four +revolutions into our conceptual scheme, this fitting cannot +be done with finicky exactness. It is quite impossible to +say that the crisis of a given revolution ended at 4:03 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> on +August 6th of a given year. France does indeed furnish us with +an instance almost as precise as this. The end of the crisis in +France may be dated from the fall of Robespierre on July 27, +1794, or on the ninth Thermidor, year II of the poetic new +French calendar. The ensuing slow and uneven return to +quieter, less heroic times has long been known to French historians +as the Thermidorean reaction. The Marxists, and especially +the Trotskyites, have recently been applying the word to +the Russian revolution, so that we may adopt it, as we did “old +regime,” as a term in general acceptance. All our revolutions +had their Thermidors, though in no two were the sequence of +events, the time schedules, the ups and downs of daily life, +anything like identical.</p> + +<p>In terms of our conceptual scheme, we shall have to call +Thermidor a convalescence from the fever of revolution, even +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>though “convalescence” suggests something nice, and seems +therefore to be a way of praising the Thermidorean reaction. +We can but repeat previous assertions that no such eulogistic +sense is here intended. We continue to try to discover first approximations +of uniformities in phenomena we mean neither +to praise nor to blame, neither to cherish nor to damn.</p> + +<p>In England the beginning of the Thermidorean period, the +convalescence, is not to be put with any preciseness. The year +or so following the execution of Charles I represents the height +of the crisis in England, and as long as the Rump sat some +strong flavor of revolution remained. Perhaps the best date for +the English Thermidor is Cromwell’s dissolution of the Rump +on April 20, 1653, when the great general made some celebrated +and un-English remarks about the resemblance between +the mace and a jester’s staff. With Cromwell installed as Protector +under the “instrument of Government” of 1653—the +English actually did indulge themselves once in a written constitution—Thermidor +may be said to be well on its way. In +1657 Cromwell became Lord Protector, half a king at least, and +with the restoration of the Stuarts in 1660 the great English +revolution may be said to end.</p> + +<p>The fall of Robespierre in France had been brought about +largely by a conspiracy among outwardly orthodox Jacobin +deputies to the Convention, men for the most part seriously +involved in war-profiteering, parliamentary corruption, stock +speculation and other activities unworthy of citizens of the +Republic of Virtue. Fear of the “Incorruptible” Robespierre +seems to have been one of the main reasons for their action. +They were successful, not unaided by Robespierre’s lack of +political wisdom. The Thermidoreans themselves had apparently +not intended to end the Terror; the guillotining of +Robespierre was just another in a long list of revolutionary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>guillotinings to which they had now become well accustomed. +But for once public opinion got to work, and Frenchmen made +it clear that they were through with the “tigers athirst for +blood.” The reaction continued at a fairly steady rate for some +years, both under the declining Convention and the new government +of the Directory. There were definite relapses, as one +might expect in a convalescence. Especially in the summer of +1799, after French defeats abroad, there was a striking revival +of Jacobinism. The clubs re-opened, and the good old slogans +resounded once more in public halls, in cafes, and on street +corners. A few months later Napoleon Bonaparte had achieved +his <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i> of the 18th Brumaire, and the French convalescence +was nearly over. The actual restoration of the Bourbons +in 1814 is hardly a part of the course of revolution in +France. It was rather an accident, a consequence of such purely +personal factors as Napoleon’s megalomaniac insistence on +fighting all Europe to the bitter end in 1813-14, Talleyrand’s +knack for calling the turn, and the good intentions of Alexander +I of Russia.</p> + +<p>The Russian revolution may perhaps in a sense be still going +on. The Trotskyites hold that Stalin and his crowd are Thermidoreans, +and that <em>this</em> Russian revolution, at any rate, is pretty +well over. Complete detachment in such matters is certainly +difficult at this moment. But it does seem clear that the crisis +period in Russia is over, that at most Russia is now in a rather +long and disturbed convalescence from the fever of revolution. +We may perhaps regard the period of war communism, +1917-21, as the first and main crisis of the Russian revolution. +With the New Economic Policy of 1921 began Russia’s +Thermidor. Lenin’s death and the subsequent rivalry between +Stalin and Trotsky led up to a second crisis, or rather relapse +during convalescence, which we may date at the more acute +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>periods of violent enforcement of the first Five Year Plan. But +as many an observer has noted, this secondary crisis lacked the +hopeful idealism of the first, lacked its improvisations and its +adventures, lacked its active foreign and White Guard enemies, +and looks from even our brief historical perspective much like +characteristic acts of the “tyrants” who came to power during +other Thermidors—the Cromwellian settlement of Ireland, for +instance, or the Napoleonic enforcement of the Continental +System. Since 1933, this second crisis has been rapidly abating, +and at present evidences of reaction in Russia abound.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_247"><em>II. Amnesty and Repression</em></h3> + +<p>Politically the most striking uniformity to be noted in the +period of convalescence is the ultimate establishment of a +“tyrant” in something like the old Greek sense of the word, +an unconstitutional ruler brought to power by revolution or +<em>stasis</em>. This uniformity has been frequently noted: Cromwell, +Bonaparte, Stalin, all seem to confirm it. Indeed, in the Federalist +period in the United States there were Jeffersonians ungrateful +enough to suggest that Washington was a perfectly +good example of the tyrant born of revolution. There is nothing +very puzzling about the phenomenon. After a revolution +has undergone the crisis and the accompanying centralization +of power, some strong leader must handle that centralized +power when the mad religious energy of the crisis period has +burned itself out. Dictatorships and revolutions are inevitably +closely associated, because revolutions to a certain extent break +down, or at least weaken, laws, customs, habits, beliefs which +bind men together in society; and when laws, customs, habits, +beliefs tie men together insufficiently, force must be used to +remedy that insufficiency. Military force is for short terms the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>most efficient kind of force available for social and political +uses, and military force demands a hierarchy of obedience culminating +in a generalissimo. Polybius has here some appropriate +remarks about the military virtues of Republican Rome. +All this, however, is pretty much a commonplace of our times.</p> + +<p>The rule of one man does not come immediately with the +Thermidorean reaction. Even Cromwell, the earliest established +of the three, did not become uncontested ruler with the dissolution +of the Rump. The reaction to the crisis is at first slow +and uncertain. The habit of violence is by now thoroughly +established. There is left from the crisis a tendency to dramatic +steps and whole-hog measures. Even sober and peace-loving +men have moments of excited relapses to the jitters of the +Terror. Seen in this light, the recent Moscow purges and trials +are no indication that the Russian revolution has had an unusually +long life, that it fails to fit our pattern. These melodramatic +displays are no more than the expected aftermath of +revolution in a land and among peoples unblessed with Magna +Carta, Blackstone, and Gilbert and Sullivan.</p> + +<p>As time goes on, the pressures the Terror applied to ordinary +men are relaxed: the special tribunals give place to more +regular ones, the revolutionary police are absorbed into the +regular police—which are not necessarily the equivalent of London +bobbies; they may be agents of the <span class="allsmcap">OGPU</span>—and the block, +guillotine or firing-squad are reserved for the more dramatic +criminals. It is not, of course, that political life shortly assumes +the idyllic stability some of our own contemporaries +like to describe as the Rule of Law, and which, one suspects, +was never quite as nice as appears in their books—not even in +staid nineteenth-century England, or in the thirteenth century +where St. Thomas lived so pleasantly. The taste and habit of +political violence lives on in <i lang="fr">coups d’état</i>, in purges, in well-staged +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>trials. But John Jones, Jacques Duval, Ivan Ivanovich, +the man in the street, is no longer included in the cast—he is +now left to his normal role of spectator or supernumerary.</p> + +<p>Gradually, too, the politically proscribed are amnestied, and +come back, sometimes to be caught up again in the scramble +of competitive politics; sometimes to become part of that staff +of modern life, the bureaucracy; sometimes to live quietly as +private citizens. The process is naturally the reverse of the +process in which these men and women had been driven out. +They go from Right to Left, and come back from Left to +Right—first the almost pure radicals, then the moderates, then +moderate conservatives, until the final restoration brings back +remnants of the old gang. Such at least was the process in +France and in England. After 1653, the Presbyterians took +heart and began to emerge into politics, followed by the more +moderate Episcopalians and Royalists, until in 1660 the Stuarts +and their courtiers returned. In France the succession was +very exact and ratified by formal bills of amnesty: first the +Girondins—those who had survived—came back, while tears +were shed over, and monuments erected to, the innocent victims +of the bloodthirsty tiger Robespierre; then the Feuillants, +the Lafayette-Lameth crowd; then the out-and-out Royalists +and such-like <i lang="fr">émigrés</i>, whom Napoleon, however, was able to +control fairly well; then finally, in 1814, the Bourbons themselves.</p> + +<p>So far the Romanovs have not returned to Russia, and only +a very rash prophet would prophesy their ultimate return, or +indeed any kind of formal restoration of hereditary monarchy. +We must not ask our revolutions to make too neat a picture. +It is clear, however, that save for the final monarchical restoration, +the process we have outlined above has been going on +slowly in Russia, at least since Lenin’s death. Even the aristocrats +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>can go back if they make the proper submission and get +the proper publicity—which was true of Napoleonic France. +As for the numerous variants of revolutionary belief, it is clear +that gathered around Stalin today are many men who were far +from orthodox in 1917. Even the sainted Gorki was what in +France would be called a <i lang="fr">rallié</i>, a man who rallied to the Communist +regime only after the worst of the Terror was safely +over. On the other hand, almost all the old Bolsheviks, the +men who ruled Russia in the period of crisis, have by now +been liquidated. Stalin in 1938 can hardly make any direct human +contact with his revolutionary past.</p> + +<p>The personnel of government in the Thermidorean period +and in the new-old regime that finally emerges from the +revolution is likely to be varied in origin. Napoleon was served +by old aristocrats of the <i lang="fr">noblesse d’épée</i>, by bureaucrats trained +in the old regime, by Fayettists, by Girondins and even by a +few once-violent Jacobins. Of men like Albemarle, Shaftesbury, +and Downing, who stood high in the government of Charles +II after his restoration, it has been written: “They were of the +same school as Blake and Vane; they represented the most +solid political attainments of the Cromwellian party.” Downing’s +career is an especially good example of how men of ability +and a certain moral elasticity can traverse revolutions. He +was graduated from Harvard in 1642, and went to England at +the happy moment of Puritan supremacy. He soon rose high +in the ranks of the Cromwellians, devoting his talents especially +to diplomacy. He contrived to turn his coat at just the +right time, and was accepted in the service of the new king. +It is from this early and somewhat atypical Harvard man that +Downing Street in London takes its name. Even in Russia, +though by now old Bolsheviks are almost completely weeded +out of the very highest councils, there are undoubtedly many +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>of them, their fires well banked, in the great new bureaucracy.</p> + +<p>The new governing classes in all our societies are then a very +miscellaneous lot, with very little in common as regards social +origins, education, and earlier party affiliations. They have in +common a certain adaptability. They have survived a rigorous +if somewhat arbitrary selection. They seem, after the heroes of +the Terror, tame and unenterprising in many ways. But they +usually do a pretty good job in getting institutions, laws, routines, +all the necessary standard ways of doing things, once more +working.</p> + +<p>Along with amnesty to former moderates there goes on a +reverse process of repression and persecution of unrepentant +revolutionists of all sorts. The further the reaction moves to +the Right, the wider its definition of revolutionists to be duly +restrained as suitable reaction against the honors of the Reign +of Terror. The Thermidoreans themselves are by no means unwilling +to apply terroristic methods in the proper direction. +The White Terrors are as real as the Red. Even in England, +the well-known Clarendon Code of the Restoration conforms +closely enough to the general pattern of repression later carried +out in France and in Russia. The clever and unprincipled +extremist is almost always able to weather the White Terror—witness +Fouché again. It is only the convinced and persistent +extremists who suffer.</p> + +<p>As for the more active and violent leaders of the original +Terror, they are of course eliminated, either by exile or by +death. They are now declared to have been fanatics, villains, +bloodthirsty tyrants, scoundrels. They become very convenient +scapegoats, explanations of the difficulties the new regime has +getting things settled. If there is one very dramatic scapegoat, +and he is already dead, so much the better. Cromwell’s body +was dug up after the Stuart Restoration and hanged at Tyburn, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>along with Ireton’s and Bradshaw’s. He became a tyrant, an +ogre, a blasphemer, and so remained on the whole until in the +nineteenth century Carlyle started the rehabilitation which has +made him a hero. Except for a small sect led by the late Albert +Mathiez, Robespierre has never recovered the status of hero. +The Thermidoreans made Robespierre a prime scapegoat, the +leader of the gang of terrorists, a vain and capricious tyrant, a +bloody villain. Lenin, of course, died a saint, but fortunately +for Stalin Trotsky made a grand scapegoat. Recent events have +shown that in this respect Russia is still in its Thermidorean +period, and the process of finding big and little scapegoats +seems to be going on merrily in that country.</p> + +<p>The lift of the ideal has gone by now. The new ruling class +settles down to do as good a job as it can. But it clearly intends +also to enjoy life, to possess the privileges and wealth a +ruling class has hitherto always had. This new ruling class is certainly +not going to try to achieve Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, +for everyone in the society. It is quite content with the stratification +which has worked itself out during the revolution. It +will settle its own internal conflicts as far as it can, in the traditional +way of ruling classes. There will be none of the dangerous +direct appeals to the people, no risks of great popular +uprisings. We have already noted how as the crisis period +approaches the people come less and less into active politics, +how the extremists reach power through what is no more than +a <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i>. With the Thermidoreans this process continues, +until the political changes, the transfers of power during this +period—and they are numerous, and by no means altogether +regular and orderly—are hardly more than palace revolutions. +When all is quiet and safe the victors will risk a plebiscite. +Appearances have to be kept up, and a certain number of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>stereotypes about the will of the people have by now got fairly +well established in the mind of John Jones.</p> + +<p>John Jones may well be somewhat tired of political turmoil. +But he is certainly not in the Thermidorean period in a generally +prosperous condition. One of the most striking uniformities +we can discern in this period is that, notably in +France and Russia, but to a certain extent also in the England +of the 1650’s and the America of the Articles of Confederation, +there was more widespread economic suffering, especially among +the poorest classes, than during the Terror, or during the last +years of the old regime. When the Thermidoreans in France +abandoned price-fixing and food-rationing, prices rocketed, +paper money went on its classic decline, and the poor were left +in a very bad way. There seems to be a general agreement that +there was more actual suffering in France in the winters of +1795 and 1796 than at any other time in the revolutionary +era. Yet save for a few pathetic bread riots at Paris and in some +of the large cities, riots easily put down by the government, +nothing happened. Similarly in Russia, there seems to be no +doubt that the liquidation of the <i lang="ru">kulaks</i> and the great famine +during the first Five Year Plan brought a greater toll of death +and misery than even the period of war communism. Possibly +the explanation of the failure of this suffering to produce a +rising is that suffering is not in itself a spur to effective revolt; +perhaps it is merely that the new ruling class in Thermidor +can and does use force with an effectiveness the old ruling class +did not command; perhaps it is also that by Thermidor the +great mass of people neither rich nor poor, not at any rate +quite on the margin of existence, is worn out, exhausted, fed +up with the experiences of the crusade for the Republic of +Virtue.</p> + +<p>The lift of the ideal has also gone out of the wars the revolutionists +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>have been waging to spread their gospel. It is doubtless +true that these wars were never wholly devoted to the +spreading of this gospel, and certainly the catchwords of the +gospel continue to be used long after the heroic period of the +crisis. But aggressive nationalism gradually supplants the missionary +spirit, a Messianic crusade gradually becomes clearly a +war of conquest. Cromwell turned English energies to the reconquest +of Ireland and then to the re-establishment of English +prestige abroad. The seizure of Jamaica is a little thing if compared +with Napoleon’s conquests, but it is cut from the same +sociological pattern. With Sexby and Blake in earlier years, +patriotism had taken the form of wishing to make all Europe +republican; by the middle of the decade of the fifties, English +patriotism had returned to more normal channels. That under +the Directory and Napoleon French nationalism conformed to +the pattern we have sketched above should be clear even to the +idolaters of Napoleon.</p> + +<p>In Russia in the early days of the revolution nationalism in +the aggressive sense was virtuously abandoned according to the +best tenets of Marx; in the purely cultural sense nationalism became +the prized basis of soviet federalism. To many admirers +of the Russian revolution it will not be at all clear that Russia +has also conformed to our pattern, has fitted in with the uniformity +by which Messianic revolutionary proselyting in other +lands becomes the aggressive nationalism with which we are +familiar. The skeptical can only reply that the boasted federal +equality of the national groups within the Soviet Union has not +proved incompatible with practical domination by the Great +Russians, though unquestionably the Soviet government has +been in most respects more “liberal” towards the other national +groups than was Czarist Russia, and more successful in integrating +them into the larger unity of the U.S.S.R. But more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>important for our purposes is the clear reappearance of ordinary +nationalism in Stalin’s Russia. This has not yet taken the +aggressive forms French nationalism took under Napoleon, +largely because the present international situation of Russia +is very different from that of France at the end of the eighteenth +century. But evidence of the existence of a strong national +spirit in contemporary Russia is abundant; it can be +found in the abandonment of the attempt to foment revolution +in other countries, and a return to the policy of nationalistic +alliances, in the deliberate encouragement of the patriotic +study of Russian history, in the tone of the Russian press, in +all phases of Russian cultural life. Of course the nice Marxist +internationalist slogans are still repeated. Napoleon, “Child and +Champion of Jacobinism,” also made abundant and effective +use even of such compromising revolutionary terms as “Liberty, +Equality, and Fraternity.” But he did not fool all his contemporaries, +and he certainly ought not to fool historians.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_255"><em>III. Return of the Church</em></h3> + +<p>The position of the recognized religions of the old regimes +is one of the very best indicators of the nature and extent +of these Thermidorean reactions. We saw in the last chapter +that the extremists had developed what we had to call a religion +of their own, an active, crusading, intolerant faith that +sent its devotees storming the gates of heaven on earth. Naturally +enough during their supremacy the extremists persecuted +the old established faiths, Catholic and Protestant alike. The +English Independents persecuted papists, prelatists, and Presbyterians +with a zeal perhaps diminishing in that order. In +France the Catholic Church had been long a target for the +<i lang="fr">philosophes</i>. The victorious Jacobins were not altogether of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>one mind either as to the treatment of the Catholic Church +or as to just what sort of substitute might be desirable. Cults +of Reason, of the Fatherland, of the Supreme Being, all had +their advocates. Most of them could agree on banning the non-juring +Catholics who were loyal to the Pope. At the height +of the Terror the most violent “dechristianizers” had their +way in some regions, destroying or defacing churches, guillotining +or banishing priests, staging burlesques of Catholic ceremonials. +Fouché at Nevers caused to be inscribed over the +gate of the cemetery the confident assertion: <em>Death is an +eternal Sleep</em>.</p> + +<p>The Bolsheviks were brought up in a hatred for the Greek +Orthodox Church at least as violent as that which the Jacobins +felt for the Roman Catholic. They had a firm belief, nourished +by much repetition, that religion is “the opium of the people.” +They thought of themselves as men of science and hence +atheists. Once in power the Bolsheviks began an active campaign +against the churches, though especially in the early days +of war communism they had a good deal else to do, and left +the clergy to struggle along by itself. There were the usual acts +of violence against persons of the clergy and against the church +buildings, shutting of the monasteries, and so on. Priests were +of course classed in the non-productive group, and suffered +more than other men from lack of food during the great +scarcity. Yet one gets the impression that in Russia sheer terrorism +directed against organized Christianity was not quite +as intense as it had been in France. The Bolsheviks had a great +belief in the power of proper education, and planned from the +first a state monopoly which should insure the young against +exposure to the danger of infection with Christian notions. +For adults the government trusted in anti-religious propaganda, +in museums exposing the fakes and horrors of the old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>religion, and in the general spread of enlightenment and desire +for the good things of this world. The “League of the Militant +Godless” was formed with government support, the presses and +the artists got to work on posters, the newspapers went enthusiastically +into this relatively safe pursuit, and for a while +in the 1920’s foreign observers might not unreasonably report +that Christianity in Russia seemed well on the way to extinction.</p> + +<p>No such confident conclusion seems safe in 1938. It is very +difficult indeed to get trustworthy information on the present +status of organized Christianity in Russia. On this subject, +even more than on most subjects, Westerners traveling in Russia +find what they want to find. But it does seem definitely +established that now after twenty years of Bolshevik supremacy +Christianity has not been wiped out in Russia, is not even +limited to older people brought up before the revolution. The +League of the Militant Godless announced in 1930 that the +government had closed only 3,380 out of the 50,000 churches +of Czarist Russia. At the tenth anniversary meeting of the +League, the president stated that 50 per cent of Russian youth +were still Christian. In 1936 the League complained that +priests in various parts of Russia have cleverly adapted themselves +to Communism, have insinuated themselves into the collective +farms, have taken to appearing at trade-union meetings. +A recent Catholic traveler reported in the Commonweal that +in a conducted tour he was not shown any of the famous “atheist +museums” and that on inquiry he found that the whole +business of anti-Christian propaganda was being very much +soft-pedaled.</p> + +<p>On every hand one finds bits of evidence all pointing to the +same conclusion: under the Thermidorean rule of Stalin, the +Orthodox Church is gradually coming back into a recognized +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>and secure position in Russian life. This is not to say that the +Militant Godless are not still active, nor that they will in their +turn find themselves persecuted. Nor is it to assert that the +Orthodox Church is today exactly what it was in the days of +the Czars. On the contrary, it is evident that its clergy, once +known for their conservatism and inaction, have been stirred +to a real effort of adaptation to new circumstances. But it does +mean that the rites of the church still go on in a Russia no +longer perhaps exactly the Holy Russia of old, but by no means +cut off from an institution identified with a thousand years of +her history.</p> + +<p>In France the reconciliation of the Thermidoreans and the +old church went on so rapidly that within less than a decade +from the “dechristianizing” movement of the Terror Napoleon +could sign a Concordat with the Pope which officially re-established +Roman Catholicism as the State Church of France. During +the worst of the Terror, Catholics in France had had to +hold their services in secret, in spite of the fact that freedom +of worship was guaranteed by law. With the fall of Robespierre +they began to risk public services in the buildings still spared +them. As more and more moderates were amnestied, the government +became more and more friendly, and the last four +years of the eighteenth century saw France with complete +religious freedom and with almost complete separation of +Church and State. Napoleon and many of the new ruling class +felt the need of winning the Catholics over completely, and +the formal Concordat was negotiated. The re-established Catholic +Church was not, however, in exactly the same legal position +as under the old regime, when it had been the sole recognized +faith. Protestants and Jews were by the new laws given +equal status with the Catholics.</p> + +<p>Organized Christianity does not enter in the same way into +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>the American revolution. In England, however, there is a +striking similarity to the broad lines of development in France +and Russia. The established faith of the old regime was the +Church of England, in many ways, liturgically, theologically, +governmentally, not very far removed from the Catholic tradition. +The new revolutionary faith was Calvinism in its various +forms, of which the Independent finally triumphed. Under +Independent rule the Anglican worship, and indeed rival forms +of Calvinist worship, were kept down. On paper, at least, this +religious persecution was even more violent than that in +France and in Russia. The disputants in the pamphlet warfare +among the sects were learned men with abundant vocabularies +and firm convictions. On the other hand, save in Ireland, there +was rather less violence and bloodshed in immediately religious +quarrels during the English revolution than in those of France +and Russia. With the repressing of the more radical sects, and +especially the Quakers, the swing back begins in England. In +the later years of Cromwell Presbyterians and even Anglicans +reasserted themselves in public life and carried on their religious +services in virtual freedom. When Charles II came back +the Church of England was re-established in very nearly its old +prestige and privileges, and the cycle took its usual form with +the persecution of the sects that had made the revolution.</p> + +<p>The history of the accepted religious faiths of the old regimes +is then one of the very clearest uniformities our study of revolutions +affords. One might almost make a graph, in which the +prestige of the old organized faith might be seen to follow a +fairly regular curve, lowest at the worst of the Terror, gradually +climbing back during the Thermidorean reaction to a position +almost as high as that from which it had started in the old +regime. Such a graph would be deceptively simple, especially +if its interpretation involved the notion that the restored church +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>was exactly its old self once more. Neither men nor institutions +pass through the crisis of revolution unchanged. The priests +who had undergone persecution were never afterwards the +same men who had once enjoyed the security of the old regime, +any more than the <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> who returned from exile were the +same men who had once been unchallenged members of a ruling +class. We shall later consider the transformation of institutions +apparently restored after the revolution. Here we may +say a word about the <i lang="fr">émigré</i> priests, nobles, rich men, whose +return to public life is one of the characteristic phenomena +of Thermidor.</p> + +<p>It would be most satisfying morally to conclude that the old +clergy return purified and strengthened by the test of persecution +and exile, that the old rulers return chastened and wise. +But no such conclusion seems possible. There are exceptions, +like the Duc de Richelieu, who had learned moderation and the +art of ruling men during his long exile in Russia, and who returned +to serve Louis XVIII faithfully but well. In general, +however, the religious as well as the moral and political sentiments +and ideas of the <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> are narrowed, intensified, +strained into complete unpliability by the bitterness of their +lot. The Catholicism of Joseph de Maistre has a rigidity and +harshness not common in the faith into which he had grown +up during the old regime.</p> + +<p>For only in the world of the Alger books is adversity always +a good teacher. In the world into which the English Royalists, +the French and Russian <i lang="fr">émigrés</i>, were thrust, adversity on the +whole taught romantic and unquestioning acceptance of loyalties +which they thought were old, but which were really new +and high-powered abstractions drawn from their recent experiences +in the arena. They returned having forgotten much +and having learned a great deal—mostly knowledge neither +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>useful nor realistic. This whole subject of what happens to the +<i lang="fr">émigrés</i> and to the defeated, cowed moderates, is a fascinating +one, and one which deserves to be further studied by competent +persons. In spite of much good research at the level of +narrative history, it remains one of the most obscure parts of +the sociology of revolution. But in any case the returned +<i lang="fr">émigrés</i> do not have the field to themselves, do not by any +means determine the final course of the reaction to the revolution. +Even in England in 1660 and in France in 1814, the more +extreme among the returned <i lang="fr">émigrés</i> did not get things done +as they wanted them. The Downings and the Albemarles, the +Talleyrands and the Fouchés, the men on the scene, had got +much too far ahead of them.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_261"><em>IV. The Search for Pleasure</em></h3> + +<p>The full flavor of the Thermidorean reaction is reserved for +the social historian. In the dress, amusements, in the petty details +of the daily lives of ordinary men and women, the full +extent of the popular abandonment of the Republic of Virtue +becomes clear. So marked is this let-down that even the historian +feels it, and most nineteenth-century liberal historians +hardly concealed their disgust and disappointment when they +came to record the indecent pleasures of the English Restoration +or of the French Directory. The austerities of the good +life according to Calvin or Robespierre seemed a noble standard, +a goal towards which men might struggle with a heroism +that adorns a work of history. The doings of a society in which +a Nell Gwyn or a Teresa de Cabarrus were apparently the most +important actors could hardly be edifying to anybody, and +could be made instructive only with the addition of proper +sermonizing. Scandal writers, romantic biographers, and other +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>purveyors to a corrupt public taste have of course fallen with +delight on the ripe tidbits of the Thermidors, but the high-minded +men who write serious history have passed by these +periods holding their hands to their noses. From one source or +another, however, we can find what we need to know about +the social history of our societies in this particular phase of +revolution. We shall try to avoid being shocked or titillated, +and to see how the obvious moral looseness of the Thermidorean +reactions fits in with the uniformities we have been +working out. But first for a brief review of the facts.</p> + +<p>Within a few days of the guillotining of Robespierre and his +more conspicuous followers Parisians began to indulge publicly +and with gusto in a whole series of pleasures denied them during +the tension of the Terror. Politicians may have thought +that “Terror will not cease to be the order of the day until the +last enemies of the Republic have perished,” but ordinary men +and women for once imposed their obvious wants and needs +directly on the politicians. One gets the impression that few +phenomena in the course of the French revolution were more +genuinely “popular” and “spontaneous” than the revulsion +from the restraints of the Terror. The people of Paris took +Robespierre’s death as a signal that the lid was off.</p> + +<p>Dance halls were opened up all over Paris, prostitutes began +operating “with their former audacity” (to quote a police report), +well-dressed prosperous young men most unrepublicanly +drunk began running about and cracking dour, virtuous Republicans +over the head. These young men were the famous +<i lang="fr">jeunesse dorée</i>, a gilded youth with no illusions about a Republic +of Virtue, and which would nowadays certainly be +labeled Fascist at once. Both male and female costume had +during the crisis period tended towards sobriety, the women +being wrapped in flowing Roman robes and in more than +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>Roman virtue. Now all was changed. The men’s clothes became +extremely foppish, with tight trousers, elaborate waistcoats, +and stocks that mounted beyond the chin. The women’s +dressmakers were still classically inspired, but with a sure +erotic sense they concentrated their efforts on the skillful revealing +of the breasts. The <i lang="fr">costume directoire</i> is an excellent +symbol of the period.</p> + +<p>With the abandonment of price-fixing and in the inflation +which followed, a class of newly rich speculators, war profiteers +and clever politicians arose. Parliamentary scandals do indeed +crop up in earlier periods of the revolutions, even in the crisis +period. Corruption can be pretty well proved for certain members +of the English Long Parliament and the French Convention +even in their great days. But in these earlier periods exposure +was followed by swift and sure punishment. Now, in Thermidor, +no one seems to care very much and certainly nothing +is done. There is gossip, and in some quarters indignation. But +mostly politicians who grafted successfully were admired, as +they later were to be in the United States.</p> + +<p>Still jittery over the Terror, fearing its return, uncertain of +their wealth and position, often quite uneducated in the +patrician arts, the Thermidoreans spent their money freely +and vulgarly. They gambled, they raced horses and fought +cocks, they were mad about dancing. All this they did noisily +and with little regard for the traditional decencies of the +eighteenth century. In these short years the real basis for the +romantic taste of nineteenth-century France was laid. The +ladies of the period are famous for their gaiety and abandon. +Their leader was Teresia de Cabarrus, once mistress of the corrupt +representative Tallien, and now his wife. She was universally +known, in a phrase that displays the cynicism of the +age, as “Our Lady of Thermidor.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span></p> + +<p>All of us know the age of Charles II as an extreme reaction +from the rule of the Saints. Restoration drama has, especially +since Victorian times, been a symbol for naughtiness, for the +kind of play no nice person could witness without blushing. +Nell Gwyn has, in the national memory, ruled in triumph over +a court life in which vice was as aristocratic as the most virtuous +commoner could wish and suspect it to be. As a matter of +fact, the Puritan code of manners and morals was never perfectly +established, even in the years immediately following the +death of Charles I. The less public pleasures were always possible, +and prohibitions against horse-racing, bear-baiting, Christmas +and other heathen festivals were subject to the same kind +of nullification the Eighteenth Amendment received in this +country. The very harshness of some of the Puritan prohibitions +was in itself an indication that the Puritans were having +a hard time getting all Englishmen to behave in such a way +that they would not “stink in the nostrils of the just.”</p> + +<p>Yet the Puritan rule was in fact harsh and rigid enough to +give non-Puritans plenty of grievances, and in its main lines +the Thermidorean reaction was as real in England as it was to +be in France. There was not in England the same mixture +of <i lang="fr">parvenus</i> and tired and lucky aristocrats as in France, and +esthetically speaking the reaction in England was on a much +higher lever than that in France. But in the frank return to +the pleasures of the senses, to gambling, drinking, dancing, +open love-making, to a light and cynical literature, to a frank +joy in clothes and other vanities, the two countries present a +very close parallel. Nor was the English Restoration altogether +without a lushness of taste which chaster souls find offensive. +Especially in female costume the contrast to the sobrieties of +the early period is very striking. The ladies wore dresses of +riotous and often conflicting colors, put on towering lace headdresses, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>fantastic patches and generous cosmetics on their faces, +wore and displayed elaborately brocaded petticoats.</p> + +<p>We need hardly labor this point about the loosening of +moral restraints in the Thermidorean period in England and in +France. We shall have to be more careful in establishing the +facts about any such loosening of moral restraints in Soviet +Russia. Here the facts are certainly not yet clear in the histories. +Kindly and not very earthy souls like the Webbs see in +Russia today an orderly society, half-workshop and half-nursery. +Disillusioned radicals like Mr. Eugene Lyons see most of the +major public sins of capitalistic countries magnified among the +bureaucrats of Stalin’s gang, and the minor private vices, especially +those of ostentation and comfort-seeking, at least as common +among these bureaucrats as among our own corrupt middle +classes. It does seem reasonably clear that no such striking and +rapid shift from the public pursuit of virtue to the public pursuit +of pleasure has taken place in Russia as took place in +France and in England. But again we must not expect our uniformities +to be suspiciously exact. In its broad lines, the Russian +Thermidor runs as true to form morally and socially as we +have seen it does politically.</p> + +<p>In the first place, Thermidor in Russia began in Lenin’s own +lifetime, with the coming of the New Economic Policy in +1921. Private property and private trading were once more permitted +in Russia. The new class of entrepreneurs who rose out +of this situation, the Nepmen, remind one forcibly of the similar +class of profiteers who rose in France out of the abandonment +of price-fixing after the fall of Robespierre. They were +never quite sure of their status, and they carried over into their +now legal activities a good many of the habits they had acquired +in their bootlegging days under the Terror. As a class, +they were “exceptionally vulgar, profiteering, crude, and noisy.” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>In the next few years prostitution, gambling, and other un-Marxist +pleasures returned so obviously to Moscow and Leningrad +that only the most convinced of “fellow-travelers” were +unable to see them. Most foreigners in Russia since 1917 have +perhaps been prevented from what we may hopefully call the +normal use of their eyesight less by the activities of Communist +officials entrusted with the task of guiding foreigners than by +their own strong religious conviction that all must be well in +the Marxist heaven. Yet until the Five Year Plan was initiated, +the return of the bourgeois vices was so obvious, especially in +the middle twenties, that even foreign Communists noticed +the fact.</p> + +<p>Stalin’s apparent return to Communism in 1928-29 is really +no more significant than Napoleon’s apparent repudiation of +the corruptness and moral looseness of the Directory once +he had achieved secure power by the <i lang="fr">coup d’état</i> of the 18th +Brumaire. There seems to be in all our societies a certain +reaction to the Thermidorean reaction, notably in this matter +of the public pursuit of pleasure. Men in great numbers can +no more devote themselves heroically and permanently to sin +than to holiness. The thousand dance halls said to have been +opened up in Paris immediately after the Terror could have +kept going profitably only if most of the population of Paris +wanted to dance most of the time. And in spite of Anglo-Saxon +ideas to the contrary, Parisians are really not built that way.</p> + +<p>What happens in the years following the crisis of the Terror +is a kind of seesaw between moral restraint and moral looseness, +at the end of which a kind of equilibrium is arrived at in which +most men and women behave in respect to such matters as +gambling, drinking, love-making, the adornment of their persons, +and the use of leisure, about the way their grandfathers +and grandmothers had behaved. If we look at Stalin’s Russia +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>and ask ourselves how far there seems to be opportunity for +the old Adam and the old Eve to come out in the lives of +Russians we shall get a more accurate measure of the reality +of Thermidor in Russia than we could get from any amount +of Marxist or anti-Marxist theorizing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Eugene Lyons tells with malicious delight the story of +the bafflement and anger of a correspondent of the New York +Jewish <cite>Freiheit</cite>, a Communist paper, when he was excluded +from a government reception in Russia because he did not have +a dinner jacket. Dinner jackets a part of the dictatorship of the +proletariat! Nothing could be more absurd, illogical and wholly +natural. The dinner jacket satisfies a number of human needs—the +anthropologist could analyze most of them for you—and +there seems to be no evidence that any of our revolutions had +much long-run effect on these needs. A commissar needs a +dinner jacket at least as much as a Congressman or a D.A.R. +lecturer.</p> + +<p>Detail after detail might be brought forward to show how +the dictatorship of the proletariat in contemporary Russia is +by no means the dictatorship of virtue we have seen prevailing +in the crisis periods of our revolutions. Jazz, for instance, was +long prohibited in Russia. Jazz was clearly the product of a +decadent bourgeois civilization, an indecent way of stimulating +what no good Marxist would want, or need, to have stimulated, +one of the protean forms of “opium for the people” +in capitalistic countries. Communists would dance from sheer +joy to innocent, spring-like music. In the late twenties, however, +the fox-trot and similar dances began to seep into Communist +Russia, and nowadays we are told that American dance +music is played as frequently and as badly in Russia as in the +rest of Europe.</p> + +<p>No one dramatic event like the fall of Robespierre can be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>used to date Thermidor in Russia. But a whole series of little +matters of daily life combine to make an impressive case for +the reality of the Russian reaction. A youth leader appears at +a national youth congress in a necktie, a step which when first +taken must have been as shocking as would be in this country +the appearance of a Commencement speaker in overalls. A +fashion show is held in Moscow, and mannequins actually +parade, gliding and smiling with conventional lack of abandon, +almost as if they were poor little wage-slaves in Paris or New +York. Lipsticks and other cosmetics begin to appear even in +the shops patronized by working girls. Stories of crime, “human +interest” stories, begin to appear in the pages of newspapers +hitherto superior to such capitalistic drivel, and hitherto +consecrated to the pure heights of politics. Movies are made +in which are to be seen recognizable human beings, insignificant, +comic, stupid, jealous, even Russian, rather than bloodless +abstractions representing Capitalism, the Landlord, Communism, +the Proletariat, Man in Revolt.</p> + +<p>The Bolsheviks had been very superior about the family. It +was an institution of the old regime, interwoven with all sorts +of religious elements, inevitably conservative in its social action. +The family was a stuffy little nest breeding selfishness, jealousy, +love of property, indifference towards the great needs of society. +The family kept the young indoctrinated with the stupidities +of the old. The Bolsheviks would break up the family, +encourage divorce, educate the children to the true selflessness +of Communism, get them used to collective enterprises +and collective social life, get rid of the influence of the church +in family relations. Now there seems to be no doubt that in +contemporary Russia Stalin’s government is deliberately attempting +to inculcate the old family virtues. Movies, plays, +novels have restored respect for parents, the old family ties, to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>honor again. Gallantry towards women seems to be coming +back; and gallantry towards women is a shocking survival of +feudalism, a symbol of their inferior position in society. Divorce, +once about as easy and inexpensive as it could possibly +be, has now been made more expensive and more difficult. +More important, the government seems to be encouraging the +spread of a sentiment that marriage is a serious and permanent +affair, something made in heaven as heaven now seems understood +in Russia. Abortion, which the old Bolsheviks proudly +made as legal and as easy as appendectomy in America, and almost +as frequent, has now been forbidden by law save where +it can be certified as necessary to preserve the woman’s life. +Stalin is actually taking measures to encourage large families. +And underlying these various measures, and much more important +as a general indication of what is going on in Russia +than any one of them, is an atmosphere we should almost call +Victorian. The present rulers of Russia seem to be trying deliberately +to cultivate the kind of sentiments characteristic +of societies in equilibrium—the domestic affections, simple patriotism, +love of work and routine, obedience to those in power, +dislike for individual eccentricities, in short, what Pareto called +the “persistent aggregates.”</p> + +<p>Pursuing these ends, Stalin has recently decreed that +Marxist debunking of Russian history is to cease, that Russians +are once more to learn of the glories of the Russian past. The +Byzantine missionaries who brought Christianity to Russia are +no longer to be painted as fools and villains, agents of what +was clearly capitalistic imperialism, abject persons like contemporary +missionaries bringing Bible, rum and syphilis to the +South Seas. On the contrary, Christianity in Russia is to be +seen as an essential step in preparing the barbarous Slavs for +higher things. Peter the Great and Catherine are no longer to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>be made cruel despots. They, too, were great architects of Russia’s +destiny, without whom millions of other Slavs and Asiatics +might not now enjoy the blessings of Communism. Perhaps +Stalin hopes that his people will love him the more, once they +learn how many other Stalins have in the past ruled over them +as Czars.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_270"><em>V. Summary</em></h3> + +<p>Thermidor is then not by any means something unique, +limited to the French revolution from which it takes its name. +We have found in all three of our societies which underwent +the full cycle of revolution a similar moral let-down, a similar +process of concentration of power in the hands of a “tyrant” +or “dictator,” a similar seeping back of exiles, a similar revulsion +against the men who had made the Terror, a similar +return to old habits in daily life.</p> + +<p>Even in the United States, which did not undergo quite +the same sort of crisis as the other countries, which did not +have a real Reign of Terror and Virtue, the decade of the +1780’s displays in incomplete forms some of the marks of +Thermidor. There were a relaxation of war discipline and war +tension and a grand renewed scramble for wealth and pleasure. +There were much financial speculation and much sheer suffering. +Shays’s Rebellion, a most ineffectual gesture, reminds one +of the feeble attempts of suffering Frenchmen and Russians to +protest against the newly rich of their Thermidors. There was +even a moral let-down in this country. “Sober Americans of +1784,” writes Jameson, “lamented the spirit of speculation +which war and its attendant disturbances had generated, the +restlessness of the young, disrespect for tradition and authority, +increase of crime, the frivolity and extravagance of society.” +All this sounds very like the original Thermidor in France.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p> + +<p>In some sense the phenomenon of reaction and restoration +seems almost inevitably a part of the process of revolution. At +any rate it seems hard for the most optimistic lover of revolution +to deny that we have found such a phenomenon in all +of the four societies we have chosen to study. The very, very +faithful may still maintain that the great revolution in Russia +has proved itself exempt from this reaction, that in Russia the +noble aims of revolutionists in Western society have at last +achieved an unsullied reality. We ourselves cannot fit the facts +of Stalin’s regime to any such interpretation. Yet the fact of +Thermidor, even the fact of formal restoration as in 1660 and +1814, does not mean that revolution has changed nothing. We +shall in the next chapter attempt to answer the very difficult +question: Just what changes did these revolutions effect?</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Chapter_nine"> + <em>Chapter</em> <span class="smcap">nine</span> +<br><span class="cheaderfont">A SUMMARY OF THE WORK OF REVOLUTIONS</span></h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ref_272"><em>I. Changes in Institutions and Ideas</em></h3> + +<p class="dropcap">With that tendency to absolutism which common +sense shares with some more formal metaphysics, we are +likely to think of the kind of revolution we have been studying +as a cataclysmic break with the past. The revolution +“marks a new era” or “ends forever the abuses of the old +regime” or “digs a gulf between the old X and the new.” On +the other hand, when disillusioned liberals like Mr. E. D. +Martin come to turn against the revolutionary tradition, they +conclude as sweepingly that in effect revolutions change nothing +of importance—except perhaps for the worse—that revolutions +are unpleasant and perhaps avoidable interludes in a nation’s +history. Now it should be clear that our present study +of the English, American, French and Russian revolutions can +hardly permit any such absolute answers to the question: What +did these revolutions really change? Some institutions, some +laws, even some human habits, they clearly changed in very important +ways; other institutions, laws and habits they changed +in the long run but slightly, if at all. It may be that what they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>changed is more—or less—significant for the sociologist than +what they did not change. But we cannot begin to decide this +last matter until we have got the actual changes straight. We +are considering here, of course, those changes which are apparent +at the end of the revolutionary fever, those changes +which the history books are likely to catalogue as “permanent.” +With the changes promised but not achieved by the extremists, +as with the many dramatic changes in the lives of the individual +actors in the revolution, we are not here directly concerned +at the moment.</p> + +<p>Politically the revolution ends the worst abuses, the worst +inefficiencies of the old regime. It settles for a time at least the +kind of internal conflict out of which the “dual sovereignty” +arose. The machinery of government works more smoothly +after than immediately before the revolution. France is here a +typical case. The old overlapping jurisdictions, the confusions +and the compromises inherited from the thousand-year struggle +between the centripetal forces of the Crown and the centrifugal +forces of the feudal nobility, the welter of accumulated +precedents, were all replaced by the work of the French revolution. +An able bureaucracy operating within neatly subordinated +administrative areas, a legal system efficiently codified, an +excellent army well staffed and well provided for, enabled Napoleon +to do much that his Bourbon predecessors could not +possibly have done. Tocqueville long ago pointed out that +the French revolution came to complete the work of a long +line of French monarchs, to make centralized power in France +effective and complete.</p> + +<p>Here is one detail among many. In the old France, weights +and measures varied from region to region, indeed from town +to town. A bushel at Toulouse might be much more than a +bushel at neighboring Montauban. Worse yet, the very names +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>of measures might be wholly different words. The coinage was, +like the present English coinage, partly duodecimal, and very +hard to handle by long division. What the revolution did +about all this is familiar to every schoolboy. It substituted the +uniform system of weights and measures known as the metric +system, a system which has made its way without benefit of +revolution through most of the world outside the British Empire +and the United States.</p> + +<p>This achievement of governmental efficiency is really the +most striking uniformity we can note in estimating the political +changes effected by our revolutions. With suitable allowances +for local differences, for accidents and for the inevitable +residue of the unique with which all history and sociology must +deal, England, America, and Russia also emerged from their +revolutions with more efficient and more centralized governments. +The process is less clear in England, partly because it +took place before the full maturing of economic and cultural +forces tending to promote such forms of efficiency as the +metric system or the <cite>Code Napoléon</cite>. But, for all its complexities, +the English government after 1660 was much better geared +to the needs of the nation of shopkeepers than was the England +of 1620, with knights’ fees, ship money, benevolences, Star +Chamber, Court of High Commission, and the other appurtenances +of the immature Stuart despotism. Parliament after +1660 was more completely master of England than the first +two Stuarts had been.</p> + +<p>Russia is in this respect as in so many still a subject for dispute. +Violent opponents of Stalin insist that the new bureaucrats +are just as inefficient, pettily tyrannical and stupid as they +were said to have been under the Czars. Some of the sentiments +involved in statements of this sort would seem to be +more or less a constant of Russian life, and to a certain extent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>of life under any government. Gogol’s admirable comedy, <cite>The +Inspector-General</cite>, deals as certainly with uniformities as any +scientist could. Yet all in all future historians will probably +have to admit that as a piece of political machinery the soviet +system worked better than did that of the Czars, that the soviet +bureaucracy was on the whole a more capable one than that of +the Czars. You may not like the first Five Year Plan, but you +must admit that beneath its parade of statistics lies a concrete +economic achievement greater than anything the old regime +could show for a similar period.</p> + +<p>These revolutions were all made in the name of freedom, +were all directed against the tyranny of the few and towards +the rule of the many. This whole phase of revolutions is +peculiarly involved with the existence of certain sentiments in +human beings which make it very hard to apply the methods +of science to the study of men in society. Yet it would seem +that the full importance of such matters as democracy, civil +rights, written constitutions, and indeed the whole apparatus +of popular government lies rather within that vague and important +field the Marxists like to call ideology than in the field +of concrete political agencies which we are now studying. Certainly +one is struck by the fact that all our revolutions promoted +the efficiency of the government rather than the “right” +of the individual to a romantic freedom to be himself. Even +the traditional apparatus of popular government can be analyzed +as an instrument to get things done in a particular situation, +however strange such an analysis might seem to conventionally +minded contemporaries of Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin. Bills +of Rights, codes, and constitutions were in effect charters of +the new ruling classes. Liberty as an ideal was one thing; liberty +in politics was another and less exalted matter.</p> + +<p>These revolutions all saw much transfer of property by confiscation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>or forced sale. They saw the fall of one ruling class +and its succession by another ruling class recruited in part, at +least, from individuals who were before the revolution outside +the ruling class. They were accompanied by a definite and concrete +demand for the abolition of poverty, for the equal sharing +of wealth; the men who guided the Russian revolution continued +long after its crisis period to insist that they were economic +egalitarians, that Russia would not recognize private +property in land and in capital goods. Marxist thought still +separates our four revolutions into two different classes: the +English, French, and American, all of which it considers to have +been in their final results “bourgeois” revolutions, inevitable +victories of business and industry over landed aristocracy; and +the Russian revolution, in its final phases a true “proletarian” +revolution. We may nevertheless be more impressed with the +fact that in all four revolutions economic power changed hands, +and that a newly amalgamated “ruling class” in the new Russia +as in the new France directed the economic as well as the political +life of the society.</p> + +<p>In more detail, the English revolution took land from the +more devoted Cavaliers and ecclesiastical property from the +more unyielding Episcopalians and Presbyterians and gave it to +typical Puritans, business men and clergymen alike. The church +livings came back at the Restoration of 1660 into Anglican +hands, but save for the property of a few great lords very close +to Charles II, confiscated Royalist lands remained in the possession +of their new owners. Most of these owners made their +peace with the Stuart government, and thus was laid the foundation +for the ruling class under which England won an empire +in the next two centuries, a ruling class in which landed wealth +and industrial wealth were almost inextricably mixed, and +which proved to be a very good ruling class.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span></p> + +<p>The concrete economic changes in France follow a similar +pattern. Lands confiscated from clergy and <i lang="fr">émigré</i> nobles were +acquired by revolutionists, and for the most part remained in +the possession of the purchasers even after the Restoration of +1814. Much of this land no doubt finally ended up in the possession +of small independent peasants, and helped to put the +final touches on the establishment of that very French class, +universally regarded among writers and politicians as the core +of modern France. But much of this transaction also benefited +the middle class, and certainly the French ruling class <em>after</em> the +revolution represents as striking a mixture of old wealth and +new, of land and trade, as did the English.</p> + +<p>In Russia the differences are not as great as they ought to +be according to Marxist theory. There has been a transfer of +economic power from one group to another rather than an +equal sharing of economic power, an equal distribution of +consumers’ goods, an end of struggle over economic goods or +power—but you may put the Marxist formula as you like. The +new Russian bureaucracy seems to be a privileged class which +enjoys wealth in the form of consumers’ goods without yet +possessing it in the forms we conventionally call “property.” +At any rate, almost all reporters are agreed that in Russia in +1938 there is nothing like an equal distribution of consumers’ +goods. What seems to have taken place is a development of +the lines of movement of Russian economic history. Just as the +French revolution put the finishing touches on the position of +the peasantry, but by no means “gave” them the land suddenly, +so the present status of Russian agriculture and industry +seems to be a development of slavophile and other elements +favoring collective farming over the <i lang="ru">kulaks</i>, and of almost world-wide +tendencies favoring large-scale bureaucratically managed +industry over small independent competitive concerns. Here as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>in other countries the revolution certainly does not draw institutions +out of a hat—nor out of a book, not even out of so +impressive a book as <cite>Das Kapital</cite>.</p> + +<p>None of these revolutions quite substituted a brand-new +ruling class for the old one, at least not unless one thinks of +a “class” without bothering about the human beings who make +up the class, which is a favorite procedure of the Marxists. +What happens is that by the end of the convalescent period +there is well begun a kind of amalgamation, in which the enterprising, +adaptable, or lucky individuals of the old privileged +classes are for most practical purposes tied up with those individuals +of the old suppressed classes who, probably through the +same gifts, were able to rise. This <i lang="fr">amalgame</i> is especially noticeable +in the army and the civil service, but it is almost as conspicuous +in business and industry, and higher politics. A detailed +study of the social origins of Bonaparte’s officers, or the +officers in the present Red Army, or of the men who actually +ran the government of England in 1670, France in 1810, Russia +in 1938, would certainly confirm this analysis. Moreover, the +new men in the post-revolutionary ruling classes have made +distinct compromises with the older ones, with that old world +from which the crisis period of the revolution is so extreme a +revulsion. Your Downings, Fouchés and Kalinins have no +longer the fine freedom a Trotsky can enjoy. They are no +longer revolutionaries, but rulers, and as such they are in some +respects bound to “learn” from their predecessors.</p> + +<p>It is in the social arrangements that most intimately and +immediately touch the average man that the actual changes +effected by our revolutions seem slightest. The grand attempts +at reform during the crisis period try to alter John Jones’s relations +with his wife, his children, try to give him a new religion, +new personal habits. The Thermidoreans abandon most of this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>attempt, and in the end John Jones stands on certain matters +about where he stood when the revolution began. Our study +of revolutions should confirm something that sensible men +have always known and that exasperated reformers have occasionally +come to admit, at least to themselves—that in some +very important ways the behavior of men changes with a slowness +almost comparable to the kind of change the geologist +studies.</p> + +<p>We may take as an illustration of the foregoing uniformity +the attempts of certain of our revolutionists to alter radically +and quickly phases of the law of the family. Le Play has shown +that the uniformities of the family are among the stablest and +most persistent things in our Western civilization. The ardent +Leftist revolutionist in the last few centuries has, therefore, +naturally enough, tended to dislike this monogamous Christian +family, to him a bulwark of individual selfishness, social snobbery, +intellectual stuffiness, snarled up with testamentary red +tape, dedicated to the myth of masculine superiority, hardened +into rigidity by religious sanctions, a festering center which +must be cleaned up before men and women can live as God, +Nature, or Science intended them to live. The French revolution +saw no widespread attempt to destroy the family, and +indeed its generally middle-class course is filled with pious +praise of the family virtues. But the humanitarians did put +through some far-reaching legislation in this field, such as generous +laws of adoption and other measures tending to break +down the rigid, almost Roman, family law of the old regime. +Notably they attempted to make illegitimate children absolutely +equal in every respect with legitimate children. As the +law to put this into effect was passed, a glowing orator remarked: +“There are no more bastards in France.” We need +hardly add that he was mistaken. In a monograph on <cite>French +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>Revolutionary Legislation on Illegitimacy</cite>, the present author +has tried to show how even the good bourgeois who passed +this law were emotionally too entangled in the traditional +family feelings to try to put it into effect. They <em>said</em> that bastards +were free and equal to legitimate children; but they could +not bring themselves to <em>act</em> as if they really believed or +wanted it to be so. On the whole, the traditional family in +its French form emerged unscathed from the revolution.</p> + +<p>Russia has seen a much more determined attack on the +monogamous Christian family, legislation making divorce even +easier than in Nevada, legalizing abortion, encouraging collective +household arrangements, establishing <i lang="fr">crèches</i> and kindergartens, +bringing children up as far as possible outside the +home, and so on. Let there be no misunderstanding. Russian +idealists who sought to do all of this were not nasty-minded +folk seeking to make life easier for the sensualist. Quite the +contrary, they had, as we have tried very hard to show, a strong +streak of Puritanism. To this day, a young Russian Communist +would be shocked to the fibers of his being at the sight of +almost any American newspaper and periodical stand. These +idealists thought the bourgeois family corrupting, and agreed +with Mr. Shaw that marriage combines the maximum of +temptation with the maximum of opportunity. Their legislation +was aimed at achieving the ideals behind Christian +monogamy though destroying what they regarded as the corrupting +family institutions within which it was hedged.</p> + +<p>Here again we are not in the position of historians working +with good sources, but through the conflicting reports coming +to us from Russia of the 1930’s we can make out that the reformers +have failed, that the Christian monogamous family has +survived the old Bolsheviks in Russia. Recent legislation, as we +have seen, has not only hedged legalized abortion so much as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>to limit it to cases of the strictest medical necessity, but has +actually set up premiums for large families. Divorce has been +made more difficult. Filial piety and indeed all the conventional +bourgeois family virtues are now in high honor in press, +movie, stage, and school.</p> + +<p>To take a very specific example, homosexuality was, for the +old Bolsheviks, an abnormality, possibly open to medical treatment, +but not of course a crime. They didn’t like it, but they +were too consistent and open-minded to treat it as a crime. +Naturally they had no narrow bourgeois disgust for the practice. +But in March, 1934, homosexuality was made a crime with +a three- to eight-year prison penalty. We cannot refrain from +adding that the Webbs explain this with their usual obligingness: +“It is understood that this action followed the discovery +of centers of demoralization of boys, due to the influence of +certain foreigners, who were summarily expelled from soviet +territory.” But even with the foreigners expelled, Russia retains +the law. The fact is that Russian <em>sentiments</em> on the subject of +homosexuality are nearly constant; only Russian <em>ideas</em> on the +subject are variable, and in the long run the constant prevails.</p> + +<p>The whole subject of change in the routines of the daily +life of John Jones, in the more intimate of his relations with +his fellows and his environment, is none too well explored. +Here again common sense, with its decisive “human nature +doesn’t change,” is much too absolute. But it does appear that +our revolutions had but slight permanent effect on the important +little things of life for John Jones. What is perhaps loosely +called the “Industrial Revolution” had certainly a much greater +effect, forced John into a more difficult series of adjustments +than did our revolutions. And none of our societies seems to +have undergone changes as complete as those undergone by +Turkish society since the World War or by Japanese society +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>in the last fifty years. It is tempting to record the apparent +paradox that Western society is in some respects more slow +to change than Eastern society. But the truth is much more +complex than any such paradox. Both the Turks and the +Japanese seem to have preserved intact through social and +economic change a series of national disciplines. In our Western +societies, family, moral and religious disciplines have in a +similar way served as a balance to very important social and +economic changes, of which the revolutions we have studied +are only a part.</p> + +<p>Modern Western society has indeed gone through in the last +few centuries changes so continuous that, if we adopt the very +plausible concept of social equilibrium, we must expect to find +certain forces pulling in the opposite direction, in the direction +of stability. These forces are not as a rule articulate. They do +not seem to interest intellectuals as much as do forces making +for change. They are perhaps a bit undignified, and certainly +undramatic. Insofar as they do get themselves translated into +language, they appear in a variety of logical disguises difficult +to penetrate. But they are there, and as we have seen, they set +a definite limit to what the reformer or revolutionist can do. +Bastardy can hardly stand up against logic or biology; but bastardy +exists by virtue neither of logic nor of biology, but by +virtue of well-established, slow-changing human sentiments. +Men may feel tearfully sorry for poor children stigmatized from +birth for something clearly not their fault; but hitherto not +even revolution has prevailed against those perhaps ignoble but +certainly persistent sentiments behind the “man-made” and +“artificial” distinction between children born after a certain +rite has been performed and those born without benefit of such +a rite. The rite seems fragile, changeable, unimportant—a mere +matter of trivial words and gestures. Actually it has proved +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>effective against much grander words and more striking gestures, +as well as against whole batteries of logic. For it is, to +use Pareto’s terminology, associated with the “persistent aggregates,” +patterns of sentiments and behavior very slow to change.</p> + +<p>All this amounts to the statement that in our Western society +men have continued to hold certain sentiments and to +conform to certain set ways of doing things even after they +have changed what they say about these sentiments and these +acts. Our revolutions seem in many ways to have changed +men’s minds more completely than they changed men’s habits. +This is by no means to say that they changed nothing at all, +that what men think is of no importance. Ideas are not quite +magicians in this world, or Robespierre would not have fallen, +and Trotsky would today be in Moscow and not in Mexico. +But they are not to be dismissed as having no part in the +social change. Indeed, what our Marxist friends would call the +“ideological” changes effected by our revolutions deserve careful +consideration.</p> + +<p>One may distinguish two contrasting roles played by these +ideas born of revolution. First, our revolutions in the end +would seem to have taken the sting out of the radical ideas +and slogans of their early days. They achieved the necessary +miracle of reconciling aspiring men to the substantial failure +of their aspirations. They turned what were originally verbal +instruments of revolt, means of moving men to social action +against the existing order, into something we shall have to be +up-to-date and call the myths, folklore, symbols, stereotypes, +rituals, of their respective societies. “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,” +which once was the trumpet call to the storming of +heaven on earth, is now in the Third French Republic no +more than a bit of national liturgy, a comforting reminder that +Frenchmen are the privileged heirs of a heroic past. There +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>are signs that in Russia even so explosive a phrase as “Workers +of the world, unite!” can be accommodated to the conservative, +restraining necessities of ritual. After all, as too-logical +radicals have pointed out, the Bible itself is full of good revolutionary +doctrine; what organized Christianity has done with +the Bible organized Communism ought to be able to do with +a much simpler book like <cite>Das Kapital</cite>.</p> + +<p>A second role is a more positive one. Even in their use as +ritual, these ideas are not purely passive, mere bits of mumbo-jumbo. +We cannot here go into the important and involved +question of the role of these myths and symbols in a society. +We certainly must avoid the stupid question as to whether +such symbols “cause” any kind of social change. Here as almost +everywhere in the social sciences the cart-and-horse formula of +causation is useless, and indeed misleading. Sufficient for us +that in all our societies we find that the memory of the great +revolution is enshrined in practices that seem to be an essential +part of the national state as a going concern. Insofar as +men are today in England, France, America, and Russia heartened +by awareness of membership in a nation, guided perhaps, +and certainly consoled, by the nobler and more abstract beliefs, +made conscious of some kind of security, of a status, by +all sorts of ritualistic acts associated with the State or with +the Church as a department of the State, fortified by the prospects +still held out in the grand words of a Milton, a Jefferson, +a Danton, a Lenin—insofar as men are so moved, the revolutions +we have studied have given largely to the content of their +emotions. In England, in America, in France, the memory of +their great overturns has become a factor in the stability of +existing society: in Russia, unless all signs fail, a similar state +of affairs has just about been reached.</p> + +<p>Yet our revolutions have also left behind a tradition of successful +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>revolt. What is to established, contented, conforming, +conventional men merely a ritualistic satisfaction, remains for +discontented men a spur to activate their discontent. Our +modern Western revolutionary tradition is to a certain extent +cumulative, and the latest revolutionists in the tradition, the +Russians, have carried their awareness of revolutionary history +almost to an obsession. Trotsky, for instance, though he naturally +never uses the conceptual scheme of the fever as we have +employed it, seems constantly to be watching the course of the +Russian revolution almost clinically, constantly looking for +events to take courses observed before in France, in England, +or wherever men have revolted in the name of the many +against the few. If Mussolini and Hitler are equally interested +in such clinical observations, this is but proof of our modern +assumption that there are uniformities in history.</p> + +<p>Again this tradition of revolt is an imponderable, but it +seems to have gone into the making of the Western democracies, +and to be one of the elements that is in its full form +lacking in the development of Italy and Germany, where +democratic revolutions have been abortive or at best unimpressive. +To state the existence of this revolutionary tradition is +not necessarily to make a judgment of value. We bring it +forth as an observable fact, one not to be effectively denied +by partisans of any stripe. Its exact influence in the complex +equilibrium of our present societies we cannot here attempt to +determine. Notably, we find great difficulties in estimating how +far it has taken root in Russia. Possibly the Communism of +Stalin is but “fascism of the Left.” But the whole temper of +the Western democracies is influenced, surely, by the fact that +they were born of one kind of revolution, with one kind of +“ideal”—that is still best summarized as “Liberty, Equality, +Fraternity.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span></p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_286"><em>II. Some Tentative Uniformities</em></h3> + +<p>When all necessary concessions are made to those who insist +that events in history are unique, it remains true that the four +revolutions we have studied do display some striking uniformities. +Our conceptual scheme of the fever can be worked out so +as to bring these uniformities clearly to mind. We shall find +it worth while, in attempting to summarize the work of these +revolutions, to recapitulate briefly the main points of comparison +on which our uniformities are based.</p> + +<p>We must be very tentative about the prodromal symptoms +of revolution. Even retrospectively, diagnosis of the four societies +we studied was very difficult, and there is little ground for +belief that anyone today has enough knowledge and skill to +apply formal methods of diagnosis to a contemporary society +and say, in this case revolution will or will not occur shortly. +But some uniformities do emerge from a study of the old +regimes in England, America, France, and Russia.</p> + +<p>First, these were all societies on the whole on the upgrade +economically before the revolution came, and the revolutionary +movements seem to originate in the discontents of not unprosperous +people who feel restraint, cramp, annoyance, rather than +downright crushing oppression. Certainly these revolutions are +not started by down-and-outers, by starving, miserable people. +These revolutionists are not worms turning, not children of +despair. These revolutions are born of hope, and their philosophies +are formally optimistic.</p> + +<p>Second, we find in our pre-revolutionary society definite and +indeed very bitter class antagonisms, though these antagonisms +seem rather more complicated than the cruder Marxists will +allow. It is not a case of feudal nobility against bourgeoisie in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>1640, 1776, and 1789, or of bourgeoisie against proletariat in +1917. The strongest feelings seem generated in the bosoms of +men—and women—who have made money, or at least who +have enough to live on, and who contemplate bitterly the imperfections +of a socially privileged aristocracy. Revolutions seem +more likely when social classes are fairly close together than +when they are far apart. “Untouchables” very rarely revolt +against a God-given aristocracy, and Haiti gives one of the few +examples of successful slave revolutions. But rich merchants +whose daughters can marry aristocrats are likely to feel that +God is at least as interested in merchants as in aristocrats. It +is difficult to say why the bitterness of feeling between classes +almost equal socially seems so much stronger in some societies +than others—why, for instance, a Marie Antoinette should be +so much more hated than a Barbara Hutton; but at any rate +the existence of such bitterness can be observed in our pre-revolutionary +societies, which is, clinically speaking, enough for +the moment.</p> + +<p>Third, there is what we have called the desertion of the intellectuals. +This is in some respects the most reliable of the +symptoms we are likely to meet. Here again we need not try +to explain all the hows and whys, need not try to tie up the +desertion of the intellectuals with a grand and complete sociology +of revolutions. We need state simply that it can be observed +in all four of our societies.</p> + +<p>Fourth, the governmental machinery is clearly inefficient, +partly through neglect, through a failure to make changes in +old institutions, partly because new conditions—in the societies +we have studied, pretty specifically conditions attendant on +economic expansion and the growth of new monied classes, +new ways of transportation, new business methods—these new +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>conditions laid an intolerable strain on governmental machinery +adapted to simpler, more primitive, conditions.</p> + +<p>Fifth, the old ruling class—or rather, many individuals of the +old ruling class—come to distrust themselves, or lose faith in +the traditions and habits of their class, grow intellectual, humanitarian, +or go over to the attacking groups. Perhaps a +larger number of them than usual lead lives we shall have to +call immoral, dissolute, though one cannot be as sure about +this as a symptom as about the loss of habits and traditions +effective among a ruling class. At any rate, the ruling class becomes +politically inept.</p> + +<p>The dramatic events that start things moving, that bring on +the fever of revolution, are in three of our four revolutions intimately +connected with the financial administration of the +state. In the fourth, Russia, the breakdown of administration +under the burdens of an unsuccessful war is only in part financial. +But in all our societies the inefficiency and inadequacy of +the governmental structure of the society come out clearly in +the very first stages of the revolution. There is a time—the first +few weeks or months—when it looks as if a determined use of +force on the part of the government might prevent the mounting +excitement from culminating in an overthrow of the government. +These governments attempted such a use of force in +all four instances, and in all four their attempt was a failure. +This failure indeed proved a turning point during the first +stages, and set up the revolutionists in power.</p> + +<p>Yet one is impressed in all four instances more with the +ineptitude of the governments’ use of force than with the skill +of their opponents’ use of force. We are here speaking of the +situation wholly from a military and police point of view. It +may be that the majority of the people are discontented, loathe +the existing government, wish it overthrown. Nobody knows. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>They don’t take plebiscites <em>before</em> revolutions. In the actual +clash—even Bastille Day, Concord, or the February Days in +Petrograd—only a minority of the people is actively engaged. +But the government hold over its own troops is poor, its troops +fight half-heartedly or desert, its commanders are stupid, its +enemies acquire a nucleus of the deserting troops or of a previous +militia, and the old gives place to the new. Yet, such is +the conservative and routine-loving nature of the bulk of +human beings, so strong are habits of obedience in most of +them, that it is almost safe to say that no government is likely +to be overthrown until it loses the ability to make adequate +use of its military and police powers. That loss of ability may +show itself in the actual desertion of soldiers and police to the +revolutionists, or in the stupidity with which the government +manages its soldiers and police, or in both ways.</p> + +<p>The events we have grouped under the name of first stages +do not of course unroll themselves in exactly the same order +in time, nor with exactly the same content, in all four of our +revolutions. But we have listed the major elements—and they +fall into a pattern of uniformities—financial breakdown, organization +of the discontented to remedy this breakdown (or +threatened breakdown), revolutionary demands on the part of +these organized discontented, demands which if granted would +mean the virtual abdication of those governing, attempted use +of force by the government, its failure, and the attainment of +power by the revolutionists. These revolutionists have hitherto +been acting as an organized and nearly unanimous group, but +with the attainment of power it is clear that they are not +united. The group which dominates these first stages we call +the moderates. They are not always in a numerical majority in +this stage—indeed it is pretty clear that if you limit the moderates +to the Kadets they were not in a majority in Russia in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>February, 1917. But they seem the natural heirs of the old government, +and they have their chance. In three of our revolutions +they are sooner or later driven from office to death or +exile. Certainly there is to be seen in England, France and +Russia a process in which a series of crises—some involving violence, +street-fighting and the like—deposes one set of men and +puts in power another and more radical set. In these revolutions +power passes by violent or at least extra-legal methods +from Right to Left, until at the crisis period the extreme radicals, +the complete revolutionists, are in power. There are, as a +matter of fact, usually a few even wilder and more lunatic +fringes of the triumphant extremists—but these are not numerous +or strong and are usually suppressed or otherwise made +harmless by the dominant radicals. It is therefore approximately +true to say that power passes on from Right to Left until it +reaches the extreme Left.</p> + +<p>The rule of the extremists we have called the crisis period. +This period was not reached in the American revolution, +though in the treatment of Loyalists, in the pressure to support +the army, in some of the phases of social life, you can discern +in America many of the phenomena of the Terror as it +is seen in our three other societies. We cannot here attempt +to go into the complicated question as to why the American +revolution stopped short of a true crisis period, why the moderates +were never ousted in this country. We must repeat that +we are simply trying to establish certain uniformities of description, +and are not attempting a complete sociology of revolutions.</p> + +<p>The extremists are helped to power no doubt by the existence +of a powerful pressure towards centralized strong government, +something which in general the moderates are not capable +of providing, while the extremists, with their discipline, +their contempt for half-measures, their willingness to make +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>firm decisions, their freedom from libertarian qualms, are quite +able and willing to centralize. Especially in France and Russia, +where powerful foreign enemies threatened the very existence +of the nation, the machinery of government during the crisis +period was in part constructed to serve as a government of +national defense. Yet though modern wars, as we know in this +country, demand a centralization of authority, war alone does +not seem to account for all that happened in the crisis period +in those countries.</p> + +<p>What does happen may be a bit oversimply summarized as +follows: emergency centralization of power in an administration, +usually a council or commission, and more or less dominated +by a “strong man”—Cromwell, Robespierre, Lenin; government +without any effective protection for the normal civil +rights of the individual—or if this sounds unrealistic, let us say +the normal private life of the individual; setting up of extraordinary +courts and a special revolutionary police to carry out the +decrees of the government and to suppress all dissenting individuals +or groups; all this machinery ultimately built up from +a relatively small group—Independents, Jacobins, Bolsheviks—which +has a monopoly on all governmental action. Finally, governmental +action becomes a much greater part of all human +action than in these societies in their normal condition: this +apparatus of government is set to work indifferently on the +mountains and molehills of human life—it is used to pry into +and poke about corners normally reserved for priest or physician, +or friend, and it is used to regulate, control, plan, the +production and distribution of economic wealth on a national +scale.</p> + +<p>This pervasiveness of the Reign of Terror in the crisis period +is partly explicable in terms of the pressure of war necessities +and of economic struggles as well as of other variables: but it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>must probably also be explained as in part the manifestation +of an effort to achieve intensely religious ends here on earth. +The little band of violent revolutionists who form the nucleus +of all action during the Terror behave as men have been observed +to behave before when under the influence of active religious +faith. Independents, Jacobins, Bolsheviks, all sought to +make all human activity here on earth conform to an ideal pattern, +which, like all such patterns, seems deeply rooted in +their sentiments. A striking uniformity in all these patterns is +their asceticism, or if you prefer, their condemnation of what +we may call the minor as well as the major vices. Essentially, +however, these patterns are a good deal alike, and all resemble +closely what we may call conventional Christian ethics. Independents, +Jacobins, and Bolsheviks, at least during the crisis +period, really make an effort to enforce behavior in literal conformity +with these codes or patterns. Such an effort means +stern repression of much that many men have been used to +regarding as normal; it means a kind of universal tension in +which the ordinary individual can never feel protected by the +humble routines to which he has been formed: it means that +the intricate network of interactions among individuals—a network +which is still to the few men devoted to its intelligent +study almost a complete mystery—this network is temporarily +all torn apart. John Jones, the man in the street, the ordinary +man, is left floundering.</p> + +<p>We are almost at the point of being carried away into the +belief that our conceptual scheme is something more than a +mere convenience, that it does somehow describe “reality.” At +the crisis, the collective patient does seem helpless, thrashing +his way through a delirium. But we must try to avoid the emotional, +metaphorical appeal, and concentrate on making clear +what seems to be the really important point here. Most of us +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>are familiar with the favorite old Tory metaphor: the violent +revolutionist tears down the noble edifice society lives in, or +burns it down, and then fails to build up another, and poor +human beings are left naked to the skies. That is not a good +metaphor, save perhaps for purposes of Tory propaganda. +Even at the height of a revolutionary crisis period, more of the +old building is left standing than is destroyed. But the whole +metaphor of the building is bad. We may take instead an +analogy from the human nervous system, or think of an immensely +complicated gridwork of electrical communications. +Society then appears as a kind of a network of interactions +among individuals, interactions for the most part fixed by +habit, hardened and perhaps adorned as ritual, dignified into +meaning and beauty by elaborately interwoven strands of interaction +we know as law, theology, metaphysics, and similar +noble beliefs. Now sometimes many of these interwoven strands +of noble beliefs can be cut out, and others inserted. During the +crisis period of our revolutions some such process seems to +have taken place; but the whole network itself seems so far +never to have been altered suddenly and radically, and even +the noble beliefs tend to fit into the network in the same +places. If you kill off <em>all</em> the people who live within the network, +you don’t so much change the network of course as destroy +it. And in spite of our prophets of doom, this type of +destruction is rare in human history. Certainly in none of our +revolutions was there even a very close approach to it.</p> + +<p>What did happen, under the pressure of class struggle, war, +religious idealism, and a lot more, was that the hidden and obscure +courses which many of the interactions in the network +follow were suddenly exposed, and passage along them made +difficult in the unusual publicity and, so to speak, self-consciousness. +The courses of other interactions were blocked, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>the interactions went on with the greatest of difficulties by all +sorts of detours. The courses of still other interactions were +confused, short-circuited, paired off in strange ways. Finally, +the pretensions of the fanatical leaders of the revolution involved +the attempted creation of a vast number of new interactions. +Now though for the most part these new interactions +affected chiefly those strands we have called the noble beliefs—law, +theology, metaphysics, mythology, folklore, high-power abstractions +in general—still some of them did penetrate at an +experimental level into the obscurer and less dignified part of +the network of interactions among human beings and put a +further strain on it. Surely it is no wonder that under these +conditions men and women in the crisis period should behave +as they would not normally behave, that in the crisis period +nothing should seem as it used to seem, that, indeed, a famous +passage from Thucydides, written two thousand years before +our revolutions, should seem like a clinical report:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“When troubles had once begun in the cities, those who +followed carried the revolutionary spirit further and further, +and determined to outdo the report of all who had preceded +them by the ingenuity of the enterprises and the atrocity of +their revenges. The meaning of words had no longer the same +relation to things, but was changed by them as they thought +proper. Reckless daring was held to be loyal courage; prudent +delay was the excuse of a coward; moderation was the disguise +of unmanly weakness; to know everything was to do nothing. +Frantic energy was the true quality of a man. A conspirator +who wanted to be safe was a recreant in disguise. The lover +of violence was always trusted, and his opponent suspected. +He who succeeded in a plot was deemed knowing, but a still +greater master in craft was he who detected one. On the other +hand, he who plotted from the first to have nothing to do +with plots was a breaker up of parties and a poltroon who was +afraid of the enemy. In a word, he who could outstrip another +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>in a bad action was applauded, and so was he who encouraged +to evil one who had no idea of it.... The tie of party was +stronger than the tie of blood, because a partisan was more +ready to dare without asking why.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>With this we may put a quotation from a much humbler +source, an obscure Siberian co-operative leader protesting +against Red and White Terror alike. Mr. Chamberlin quotes:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“And we ask and appeal to society, to the contending political +groups and parties: When will our much-suffering Russia +outlive the nightmare that is throttling it, when will deaths by +violence cease? Doesn’t horror seize you at the sight of the +uninterrupted flow of human blood? Doesn’t horror seize you +at the consciousness that the deepest, most elementary bases of +the existence of human society are perishing: the feeling of +humanity, the consciousness of the value of life, of human personality, +the feeling and consciousness of the necessity of legal +order in the state?... Hear our cry and despair: we return +to prehistoric times of the existence of the human race; we are +on the verge of the death of civilization and culture; we destroy +the great cause of human progress, for which many generations +of our worthier ancestors labored.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Certainly, however, none of our revolutions quite ended in +the death of civilization and culture. The network was stronger +than the forces trying to destroy or alter it, and in all of our +societies the crisis period was followed by a convalescence, by +a return to most of the simpler and more fundamental courses +taken by interactions in the old network. More especially, the +religious lust for perfection, the crusade for the Republic of +Virtue, died out, save among a tiny minority whose actions +could not longer take place directly in politics. An active, +proselyting, intolerant, ascetic, chiliastic faith became fairly +rapidly an inactive, indifferent, worldly, ritualistic faith.</p> + +<p>The equilibrium has been restored and the revolution is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>over. But this does not mean that nothing has been changed. +Some new and useful tracks or courses in the network of interactions +that makes society have been established, some old and +inconvenient ones—you may call them unjust if you like—have +been eliminated. There is something heartless in saying that it +took the French revolution to produce the metric system and +to destroy <i lang="fr">lods et ventes</i> and similar feudal inconveniences, or +the Russian revolution to bring Russia to use the modern calendar +and to eliminate a few useless letters in the Russian +alphabet. These tangible and useful results look rather petty as +measured by the brotherhood of man and the achievement of +justice on this earth. The blood of the martyrs seems hardly +necessary to establish decimal coinage.</p> + +<p>Yet those who feel that revolution is heroic need not despair. +The revolutionary tradition is an heroic one, and the noble beliefs +which seem necessary to all societies are in our Western +democracies in part a product of the revolutions we have been +studying. Our revolutions made tremendous and valuable additions +to those strands in the network of human interactions +which can be isolated as law, theology, metaphysics and, in the +abstract sense, ethics. Had these revolutions never occurred, +you and I might still beat our wives or cheat at cards or avoid +walking under ladders, but we might not be able to rejoice in +our possession of certain inalienable rights to life, liberty, and +the pursuit of happiness, or in the comforting assurance that +one more push will bring the classless society.</p> + +<p>When one compares the whole course of these revolutions, +certain tentative uniformities suggest themselves. If the Russian +revolution at the end of our series is compared with the +English at its beginning, there seems to be a development of +conscious revolutionary technique. This is of course especially +clear since Marx made the history of revolutionary movements +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>of the past a necessary preparation for revolutionists of the +present. Lenin and his collaborators had a training in the technique +of insurrection which Independents and Jacobins lacked. +Robespierre seems almost a political innocent when his revolutionary +training is compared with that of any good Bolshevik +leader. Sam Adams, it must be admitted, seems a good deal +less innocent. All in all, it is probable that this difference in +the explicitness of self-conscious preparation for revolution, +this growth of a copious literature of revolution, this increasing +familiarity of revolutionary ideas, is not one of the very important +uniformities we have to record. It is a conspicuous uniformity, +but not an important one. Revolutions are still not a +form of logical action. The Bolsheviks do not seem to have +guided their actions by the “scientific” study of revolutions to +an appreciably greater degree than the Independents or the +Jacobins. They simply adapted an old technique to the days of +the telegraph and railroad trains.</p> + +<p>This last suggests another conspicuous but not very important +tendency in our four revolutions. They took place in societies +increasingly influenced by the “Industrial Revolution,” increasingly +subject to those changes in scale which our modern +conquests of time and space have brought to societies. Thus +the Russian revolution directly affected more people and more +square miles of territory than any previous revolution; its sequence +of events compresses into a few months what in England +in the seventeenth century had taken years to achieve; in +its use of the printing press, telegraph, radio, airplanes and the +rest it seems, as compared with our other revolutions, definitely +a streamlined affair. But again we may well doubt +whether such changes of scale are in themselves really important +factors. Men’s desires are the same, whether they ride +towards their achievement in airplanes or on horseback. Revolutions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>may be bigger nowadays, but surely not better. The +loudspeaker does not change the words.</p> + +<p>Finally, at the risk of being tedious, we must come back to +some of the problems of methods in the social sciences which +were suggested in our first chapter. We must admit that the +theorems, the uniformities, which we have been able to put +forward in terms of our conceptual scheme, are vague. They +cannot be stated in quantitative terms, cannot be used for +purposes of prediction or control. But at the very outset we +warned the reader not to expect too much. Even such vague +theorems as that of the desertion of the intellectuals, that of +the role of force in the first stages of revolution, that of the +part played by “religious” enthusiasm in the period of crisis, +that of the pursuit of pleasure during Thermidor, are, one +hopes, not without value for the study of men in society. In +themselves they amount to little, but they suggest certain possibilities +in further work.</p> + +<p>In the first place, by their very inadequacies they point to +the necessity for a more rigorous treatment of the problems +involved, challenging those who find them incomplete and unsatisfactory +to do a better job. In the second place, they will +serve the purpose of all first approximations in scientific work—they +will suggest further study of the facts, especially in those +fields where the attempt to make first approximations has uncovered +an insufficient supply of the necessary facts. Notably +here the facts for a study of class antagonisms are woefully +inadequate. So, too, are the facts for a study of the circulation +of the elite in pre-revolutionary societies. But there are a hundred +such holes, some of which can surely be filled. Our first +approximations will then lead the way to another’s second approximations. +No scientist should ask more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span></p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_299"><em>III. A Paradox of Revolution</em></h3> + +<p>Wider uniformities will, to judge by the past of science, +some day emerge from more complete studies of the sociology +of revolutions. Here we dare not hazard much that we have +not already brought out in the course of our analysis of four +specific revolutions. After all, these are but four revolutions of +what seems to be the same type, revolutions in what may be +not too uncritically called the democratic tradition. So precious +a word is “revolution” to many in that tradition, and especially +to Marxists, that they indignantly refuse to apply it to such +movements as the relatively bloodless but certainly violent and +illegal assumption of power by Mussolini or Hitler. These +movements, we are told, were not revolutions because they did +not take power from one class and give it to another. Obviously +with a word in some ways as imprecise as “revolution” you +can play all sorts of tricks like this. But for the scientific study +of social change it seems wise to apply the word revolution to +the overthrow of an established and legal parliamentary government +by Fascists. If this is so, then our four revolutions are +but one kind of revolution, and we must not attempt to make +them bear the strain of generalizations meant to apply to all +revolutions.</p> + +<p>It is even more tempting to try to fit these revolutions into +something like a philosophy of history. But the philosophy of +history is almost bound to lead into the kind of prophetic activity +we have already firmly forsworn. It may be that mankind +is now in the midst of a universal “time of troubles” from +which it will emerge into some kind of universal authoritarian +order. It may be that the democratic revolutionary tradition is +no longer a living and effective one. It may be that the revolutions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>we have studied could only have taken place in societies +in which “progress” was made a concrete thing by opportunities +for economic expansion which cannot recur in our contemporary +world, with no more frontiers and no more big families. +It may even be that the Marxists are right, and that imperialistic +capitalism is now digging its own grave, preparing +the inevitable if long-delayed world revolution of the proletariat. +There are many possibilities, as to which it is almost +true that one man’s guess is as good as another’s. Certainly a +conscientious effort to study four great revolutions in the modern +world as a scientist might cannot end in anything as +ambitious and as unscientific as social prognosis.</p> + +<p>We need not, however, end on a note of blank skepticism. +It would seem that there are, from the study of these revolutions, +three major conclusions to be drawn: first, that, in spite +of their undeniable and dramatic differences, they do present +certain simple uniformities of the kind we have tried to bring +together under our conceptual scheme of the fever; second, +that they point sharply to the necessity of studying men’s deeds +and men’s words without assuming that there is always a logical +connection between the two, since throughout their courses, +and especially at their crises, they frequently exhibit men saying +one thing and doing another; third, that they indicate that +in general many things men do, many human habits, sentiments, +dispositions, cannot be changed at all rapidly, that the +attempt made by the extremists to change them by law, terror, +and exhortation fails, that the convalescence brings them back +not greatly altered.</p> + +<p>As to what the experience of a great revolution does to the +society that experiences it, we cannot conclude here too widely +without trespassing on wider fields of history and sociology. +Yet it does seem that the patient emerges stronger in some +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>respects from the conquered fever, immunized in this way and +that from attacks that might be more serious. It is an observable +fact that in all our societies there was a certain flourishing, +a peak of varied cultural achievements, after the revolutions. +Certainly we may not moralize too much about the stupidities +and cruelties of revolutions, may not lift up our hands in +horror. It is quite possible that wider study would show that +feeble and decadent societies do not undergo revolutions, that +revolutions are, perversely, a sign of strength and youth in +societies.</p> + +<p>Certainly one quiet person emerges from his study, not +indeed untouched by a good deal of horror and disgust, but +moved also with admiration for a deep and unfathomable +strength in men which, because of the softer connotations of +the word, he is reluctant to call spiritual. Montaigne saw and +felt it long ago: “I see not one action, or three, or a hundred, +but a commonly accepted state of morality so unnatural, especially +as regards inhumanity and treachery, which are to me the +worst of all sins, that I have not the heart to think of them +without horror; and they excite my wonder almost as much as +my detestation. <em>The practice of these egregious villainies has +as much the mark of strength and vigor of soul as of error and +disorder.</em>”</p> + +<p>Berkman the anarchist, who loathes the Russian revolution, +tells a story which may represent merely his own bias, but +which may none the less serve as a brief symbolical epilogue +to this study. Berkman says he asked a good Bolshevik acquaintance +during the period of attempted complete communization +under Lenin why the famous Moscow cabmen, the izvoschiks, +who continued in diminished numbers to flit about Moscow +and to get enormous sums in paper roubles for their services, +were not nationalized like practically everything else. The Bolshevik +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>replied, “We found that if you don’t feed human beings +they continue to live somehow. But if you don’t feed the +horses, the stupid beasts die. That’s why we don’t nationalize +the cabmen.” That is not an altogether cheerful story, and in +some ways one may regret the human capacity to live without +eating. But clearly if we were as stupid—or as sensible—as horses +we should have no revolutions.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="BIBLIOGRAPHICAL_APPENDIX"> + BIBLIOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX + </h2> +</div> + + +<p class="dropcap">The following bibliography is not intended to be a +scholarly one. It does not even include all the somewhat +varied sources which have gone into this study of revolutions. +It is intended solely as a guide to individuals or groups who +may wish to attempt the difficult but rewarding study of revolutions. +As such, it is merely suggestive, but it is complete +enough so that anyone using all the leads these books and their +bibliographies offer would soon find himself very completely +immersed in the subject.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_303"><em>I. Historical Writing on the Four Revolutions</em></h3> + +<p>The first part of this bibliography aims to introduce the +reader to some of the best-known historical writing about the +four revolutions with which we are here concerned. Some of +the later and not yet tested writing on these periods will also +be included. But here least of all could anything like completeness +be attempted. A full bibliography of French history alone +from 1750 to 1815 would list books enough to fill a library; at +a guess, including pamphlets and articles in periodicals, there +would be well over three hundred thousand titles. Writings on +the Russian revolution are already almost as numerous, and +even more varied. The reader will simply find in these books +an opportunity to check the supply of facts from which we +have attempted to discover uniformities in the course of our +revolutions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span></p> + + +<h4>A. ENGLAND</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">Eduard Bernstein, <cite>Cromwell and Communism</cite>. London, 1930. +A belated but useful translation of the famous revisionist’s +<cite>Sozialismus und Demokratie in der grossen englischen +Revolution</cite> which appeared in German before the war. +This is a necessary correction to the purely political and +conventional interests of Gardiner, and even of Firth.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">L. F. Brown, <cite>The Political Activities of the Baptists and Fifth +Monarchy Men in England during the Interregnum</cite>. +Washington, 1912.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. H. Firth, <cite>Oliver Cromwell and the Rule of the Puritans in +England</cite>. 3rd edition. London, 1924. The great work of +our generation on Cromwell.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">S. R. Gardiner, <cite>A History of England, 1603-1642</cite>; <cite>A History of +the Great Civil War, 1642-1649</cite>; <cite>A History of the Commonwealth +and Protectorate, 1649-1656</cite>. Various editions +and volumes. The whole work is usually in some 17 volumes. +This is the “classic” history of the period, written +in the last half of the nineteenth century. It is a sound +but rather dull political history, but it does not touch at +all on much that would interest us in the fields of economic, +social, and intellectual history.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. P. Gooch, <cite>English Democratic Ideas in the Seventeenth +Century</cite>. 2nd edition with notes and appendices by H. J. +Laski. Cambridge, England, 1927. Indispensable.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">H. J. C. Grierson, <cite>Cross Currents in English Literature of the +Seventeenth Century</cite>. London, 1929. Excellent intellectual +history.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">T. C. Pease, <cite>The Leveller Movement</cite>. Washington, 1916. A +very useful monograph, especially as a corrective to Bernstein’s +socialistic view of Lilburne and the Levelers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span></p> + +<p class="hangindent">L. von Ranke, <cite>A History of England principally in the Seventeenth +Century</cite>. English translation, London, 1875. Another +classic of narrative history.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. M. Trevelyan, <cite>England under the Stuarts</cite>. New York, 1930. +Perhaps the best of our modern manuals, though distinctly +in the traditions of pleasant British liberalism, which are +always a bit shocked by the facts of revolution. This book +has a convenient bibliography.</p> + + +<h4>B. AMERICA</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">C. W. Alvord, <cite>The Mississippi Valley in British Politics</cite>. 2 vols. +Cleveland, 1917. An important monograph opening up an +important field neglected in earlier studies of the American +revolution.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. M. Andrews, <cite>Colonial Background of the American Revolution</cite>. +New Haven, 1924.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. L. Becker, <cite>The Eve of the Revolution</cite> (Vol. 11 of the +<cite>Chronicles of America</cite>). New Haven, 1921. <cite>The Declaration +of Independence.</cite> New York, 1922. Both these books +bring to the study of political change a rare and thorough +knowledge of how men think and feel.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. L. Beer, <cite>British Colonial Policy, 1754-1756</cite>. New York, +1907. The last volume of a thorough monographic treatment +of the old British Empire, especially with respect to +matters of trade and taxation.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">B. Faÿ, <cite>The Revolutionary Spirit in France and in the United +States</cite>. English translation, New York, 1927. Extremely +valuable for the study of ideas.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">J. F. Jameson, <cite>The American Revolution Considered as a Social +Movement</cite>. Princeton, 1926. Suggestive, and in many +ways a pioneer essay. But a long and thorough monograph +with the same title would be useful. Recent Marxist attempts +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>to do something of the sort have not amounted +to much.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">J. C. Miller, <cite>Sam Adams: Pioneer in Propaganda</cite>. Boston, 1936. +One of the best studies of revolutionary propaganda and +technique available for any revolution.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A. M. Schlesinger, <cite>Colonial Merchants and the American +Revolution</cite>. New York, 1918. This monograph brought +the realistic study of the American revolution a tremendous +leap forward.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. O. Trevelyan, <cite>The American Revolution. George III and +Charles James Fox</cite>, the concluding part of <cite>The American +Revolution</cite>. Bound with the above in a uniform edition +of 6 vols., New York, 1920-1922. This is a “classic” with +the overtones of being dated which the word often carries. +Written by a distinguished Whig historian, it is more +favorable to American “rights” in the War of Independence +than most of the foregoing American books. It seems +to our generation to omit very important economic and +social considerations.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">M. C. Tyler, <cite>The Literary History of the American Revolution</cite>. +2 vols. New York, 1897. Also a “classic” but not by +any means dated.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. H. Van Tyne, <cite>A History of the Founding of the American +Republic</cite>. 2 vols. Boston, 1922, 1929. A standard work of +professional historical scholarship.</p> + + +<h4>C. FRANCE</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">A. Aulard, <cite>The French Revolution: A Political History</cite>. English +translation. 4 vols., New York, 1910. The best example +of official Republican history of the great revolution, by +one who was in some ways a spiritual descendant of the +Girondins. Leftist and anti-clerical bias.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span></p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. Brinton, <cite>A Decade of Revolution, 1789-1799</cite>. New York, +1934.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. Bruun, <cite>Europe and the French Imperium, 1799-1814</cite>. New +York, 1938. This book and the preceding one, volumes 12 +and 13 of <cite>The Rise of Modern Europe</cite>, edited by W. L. +Langer, provide a critical bibliographical guide to the period +of the French revolution, and incorporate the important +modern research in the field.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A. Cochin, <cite>Les sociétés de pensée et la démocratie</cite>. Paris, 1921. +Essential to the study of the work of pressure groups in +the preparation of the revolution. Conservative bias.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">P. Gaxotte, <cite>The French Revolution</cite>. English translation, New +York, 1932. Perhaps the most sensible of modern works +written avowedly from a point of view far to the Right—Royalist, +in fact. But since almost all Americans get their +knowledge of the French revolution from conventional +anti-clerical Republican professors of the Third Republic, +Gaxotte’s work is recommended as an antidote.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A. Lichtenberger, <cite>Le socialisme et la révolution française</cite>. +Paris, 1899.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A. Mathiez, <cite>The French Revolution</cite>. English translation, New +York, 1928. <cite>La vie chère et le mouvement social sous la +Terreur.</cite> Paris, 1927. Mathiez was the heir of the Mountain +as Aulard was of the Gironde. Mathiez is a reliable +investigator of facts, and he was interested in the kind of +facts we are now interested in. His generalizations are +ruled by an extremely innocent version of the doctrine of +economic interpretation of history. Although he indignantly +denied he was partisan, he clearly belongs rather +far to the Left.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">D. Mornet, <cite>Les origines intellectuelles de la révolution française</cite>. +Paris, 1933. Most of the necessary material implied +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span>in the title, conveniently assembled. Mornet has conventional +French Republican notions about the role of the +<i lang="fr">philosophes</i> in the preparation of the revolution. Excellent +bibliography.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">F. Rocquain, <cite>The Revolutionary Spirit preceding the French +Revolution</cite>. English translation, abridged, London, 1894. +An attempt to lessen attention on the writings of the +<i lang="fr">philosophes</i> and turn it to concrete quarrels and grievances +in the last years of the old regime.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">H. A. Taine, <cite>The Origins of Contemporary France</cite>. English +translation, 6 vols., New York, 1876-1894. The classic attack +on the revolution and all its works, written by a disappointed +liberal and French patriot after the War of +1870. Still a mine of information, though its particular +bias is no longer shared by many in the modern world.</p> + + +<h4>D. RUSSIA</h4> + +<p>The total output of books on Russia since 1917 is enormous, +and little of it measures up to the more rigorous standards academic +historians like to impose. It is suggested that an intelligent +reader of the following would not, however, be hopelessly +misinformed about the movement, and could attempt to integrate +his knowledge of what has been going on in Russia +with what has gone on in other modern revolutions.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">W. R. Batsell, <cite>Soviet Rule in Russia</cite>. New York, 1929. A clear, +factual analysis of the machinery of government. The recent +constitutional changes do not seriously alter Batsell’s +picture.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">W. H. Chamberlin, <cite>The Russian Revolution</cite>. 2 vols., New +York, 1935. A careful piece of work, written by an +American with a command of Russian sources. Chamberlin +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span>is not a Communist, but save to more rigid +Marxists, his work will appear reasonably detached. Good +bibliography.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Eugene Lyons, <cite>Assignment in Utopia</cite>. New York, 1937. Lyons +is an American radical whose long residence as a newspaper +correspondent in Russia turned him against Stalin’s +rule. When allowance is made for this bias, the book remains +the best account in English of “Thermidor in Russia”—though +see under Trotsky below.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">James Mavor, <cite>The Russian Revolution</cite>. New York, 1928. A +brief account.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">L. Trotsky, <cite>The History of the Russian Revolution</cite>. English +translation, 3 vols., New York, 1936 (also a single-volume +edition). This will probably be Trotsky’s masterpiece. A +vivid narrative, heightened by excursions into Marxist interpretation, +mostly very keen and even sensible. Chamberlin +and Trotsky, read together, make the best introduction +possible to the study of the Russian revolution. +Trotsky’s <cite>The Revolution Betrayed</cite>, New York, 1937, is +a bitter and interesting attack on the present regime in +Russia, which he himself has christened “Thermidorean.”</p> + +<p class="hangindent">S. and B. Webb, <cite>Soviet Communism: A New Civilisation?</cite>, +2 vols., New York, 1936. For American readers, this is +probably the best and most persuasive defense of the +present regime in Russia, and may be recommended as +an antidote to the writings of disenchanted liberals and +angry Trotskyites. But it is a very soft and academic book, +and the Webbs are surely at least as much doctrinaires as +others who have written on Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span></p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_310"><em>II. The Wisdom of the Ages</em></h3> + +<p>The formal study of revolutions as a part of the science of +sociology is a very recent thing. But revolutions are not new, +nor is serious thinking on revolutions new. From Plato and +Aristotle on one can collect a very valuable set of remarks on +different phases of revolution, mostly from books not primarily +concerned with revolutions. We have not here attempted to +do more than give a random sample of what might be done +with this sort of thing. Most of the men we have chosen to +cite below were not purely intellectuals in anything like the +modern sense, and it would seem that, unsystematic though +this section of our bibliography is, it contains more wisdom +about revolutions than our fourth section, in which we list a +few contemporary works formally concerned with the sociology +of revolutions. Most contemporary writers on matters sociological +are of course intellectuals.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Plato, <cite>The Republic</cite>, especially Books VIII and IX.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Aristotle, <cite>Politics</cite>. Book V is the famous discussion of revolutions, +but the whole work, and especially Book II, is almost +as pertinent.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Polybius, <cite>History</cite>. Book VI contains the well-known account +of the reasons for Roman political stability, which by contrast +throws a good deal of light on our subject, political +instability.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Thucydides, <cite>History</cite>. Book III, 82.2 begins one of the best +clinical reports ever written on what we have called the +crisis of revolutions.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Machiavelli, <cite>Discourses on the First Decade of Titus Livius</cite>. +Almost every chapter contains something of use for the +student of revolution. Book I, Chapters XXV and XXVI, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>are especially recommended for the light they throw on +differences between revolutions like those of England and +France and those of contemporary Turkey or Italy.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Sainte-Beuve, “Le Cardinal de Retz,” in <cite>Causeries du Lundi</cite>, +vol. 5, especially the passage beginning “ces pages de ses +Mémoires qu’on pourrait intituler: <cite>Comment les révolutions +commencent</cite>.” The interested reader may well wish +to follow this up by reading De Retz’s own memoirs, +which are easily available in numerous editions in French. +There is an English version in Everyman’s Library.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Burke, <cite>Reflections on the Revolution in France</cite>. This by no +means dispassionate work none the less contains a good +deal that no student of revolutions can neglect.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Bagehot, <cite>Physics and Politics</cite>. This book, together with Maine’s +<cite>Ancient Law</cite>, sets forth a point of view about social change +which denies the possibility of achieving large-scale reforms +by revolution. Like the work of Burke, which they +supplement and clarify, they must be met and understood +before the objective study of revolutions can be carried +very far.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Pareto, <cite>The Mind and Society</cite>. This is a study of general +sociology, almost all parts of which are germane to our +purposes in this book. Chapters IX and X deal especially +with the problem of social stability and instability, but are +hard to understand without reference to the rest of the +work. A careful study of L. J. Henderson, <cite>Pareto’s General +Sociology: A Physiologist’s Interpretation</cite> (Cambridge, +Massachusetts, 1935) will help get around this difficulty. +Pareto is cited here as in a sense summing up, clarifying +and codifying views about revolution contained in this +section of our bibliography. All such views—neither “anti-intellectualist” +nor “conservative” adequately describes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>them—are anathema to most Marxists and “liberals” in +present-day America. But they have been held so long and +so firmly by men who were not altogether fools nor villains +that the least the liberal can do is examine them.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Le Play, <cite>L’organisation de la famille</cite>; also the volumes of <cite>Les +ouvriers européens</cite>. Le Play and his school merit our attention +for much the same reason as does Polybius. Le +Play studied the family with great care, and came to certain +conclusions about the persistence of certain sentiments +and actions among men which no student of attempted +social change can afford to neglect.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">F. S. Oliver, <cite>The Endless Adventure</cite>. Oliver was a conservatively +minded Englishman who in this volume wrote about +one of the least revolutionary of statesmen, Robert Walpole. +Again it is useful to us because if we do not understand +social stability we cannot hope to understand social +instability. Walpole himself is as perfect an example of +the man fitted to preserve an old society as Lenin is of +the man fitted to guide a new society.</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_312"><em>III. The Marxists</em></h3> + +<p>There is no doubt that Marx and his followers have made +great contributions to our understanding of revolutions—contributions +almost as great as those they have made to the +making of revolutions. We cannot, however, regard even the +best Marxist writing as an altogether satisfactory approach to +the scientific study of revolutions. Indeed their use of the +sacred word “science” resembles in many ways the use made +of the same word by the disciples of Mary Baker Eddy. Marxist +thought is a mixture of useful and genuinely objective observations +properly framed as uniformities, and of prophecies, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span>moral exhortations, theological and philosophical speculation, +and other elements we may loosely call propaganda. The concept +of the class struggle, for instance, belongs to the first sort; +in itself, it is a fruitful notion, and one which has enriched +sociology, in spite of the exaggerations and simplicities with +which it has been applied by many Marxists. The notion of +the dictatorship of the proletariat belongs in a sense to both +sorts; it is a useful lead in the study of past revolutions, but it +is also in Marxist hands an ideal, a goal, a prophecy. Finally, +the notion of the classless society is almost wholly a bit of +theology or, more specifically, eschatology.</p> + +<p>In any given work by a Marxist, the disentanglement of what +we may call the <em>scientific</em> elements from what we may call, +with an equal desire to use good rather than bad words, the +<em>moralistic</em> elements is almost as difficult as a similar operation +on the work of the classical economists. In each case it has to +be made separately. We need here only caution against certain +of the more specific forms in which Marxist moral fervor and +good intentions may be found distorting their work as scientists.</p> + +<p>First there is pure fervor, writing obviously intended for the +faithful, writing which from its very form is clearly a kind of +rhapsody. Then there is writing definitely aimed at achieving +a specific revolutionary end, writing closely aimed at action, +writing not even meant by the writer to be detached and +objective. There is the much-too-simple application of formulas +and clichés to specific situations. Much of this writing is sincere +and earnest, and the writers really believe that they are +applying scientific methods to sociological problems. The narrow +application of the economic interpretation of history is a +very frequent example of this kind of thing. All human action +is by the more innocent Marxists interpreted as the logical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span>application of economic interests to a concrete situation. It +must be said in fairness to Marx, Engels, and their greater +followers that they are not themselves usually guilty of such +unrealistic simplification.</p> + +<p>Finally, current Marxist writing is confused by the number +of sects that have developed within the movement, each one +claiming to be orthodox. Of the sect which in a <i lang="fr">de facto</i> way +can most clearly claim orthodoxy, that established in power +in Russia today, one may say that it represents a kind of hardening +of doctrine, a fixation of theory into dogma which may +in the long run permit a good deal more actual open-mindedness +and experiment than is now possible. In the meantime +official Marxism has become a conservative and established +belief—which may well explain why in America good rebels +like Mr. Max Eastman and subtle but conscientious theorists +like Mr. Kenneth Burke are so worried over its inadequacies; +have, indeed, begun a more radical “revisionism” than any yet +attempted.</p> + +<p>The literature is enormous, and we do not intend to do +more than list below a few general elementary discussions of +Marxism, and a few of the more important works of the great +men in the tradition. We have deliberately chosen, wherever +possible, works in which the concrete discussion of actual +revolutions is more important than pure theory.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">M. M. Bober, <cite>Karl Marx’s Interpretation of History</cite>. Cambridge, +Massachusetts, 1927.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Max Eastman, <cite>Marx and Lenin: The Science of Revolution</cite>. +New York, 1927.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Sidney Hook, <cite>Towards the Understanding of Karl Marx</cite>. New +York, 1933.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">H. J. Laski, <cite>Communism</cite>. New York, 1927.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span></p> + +<p class="hangindent">A. D. Lindsay, <cite>Karl Marx’s Capital: an introductory essay</cite>. +New ed. Oxford, 1937.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">V. Pareto, <cite>Les systèmes socialistes</cite>. Paris, 1902.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">[E. Burns], <cite>A Handbook of Marxism</cite>. New York, 1935. This +is one of the most useful of the various collections of bits +of the writings of the great Marxists. It includes some of +the most important work of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and +Stalin.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, <cite>The Communist Manifesto</cite>. +Edited by D. Ryazanoff. London, 1930. The rich notes +in this full-sized volume expand the brief original Manifesto +into a critical commentary on Marxism.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Of Marx the following is a suggested beginning, neglecting +entirely the ponderous <cite>Capital: The Eighteenth Brumaire +of Louis Bonaparte</cite>, <cite>Revolution and Counter-Revolution, +or Germany in 1848</cite>, <cite>Civil War in France</cite> (sometimes +called the <cite>Paris Commune</cite>) and <cite>The Poverty of Philosophy</cite>.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Of Engels: <cite>The Condition of the Working Class in England +in 1844</cite>, <cite>Landmarks of Scientific Socialism</cite> (Anti-Dühring).</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Of Lenin: <cite>Imperialism</cite>, <cite>The State and Revolution</cite>. (Both of +these are in a handy single volume issued by the Vanguard +Press, New York, 1926.)</p> + + +<h3 id="Ref_315"><em>IV. The Sociology of Revolutions</em></h3> + +<p>The following section contains a selected list of modern +books on revolutions in general. Such writing is necessarily +very varied indeed. Some of the books listed below are careful +studies by trained sociologists; some are the work of cranks +with a variety of cutting tools to grind; some, directly in the +Marxist tradition, seem to belong here rather than in the preceding +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span>section because of their direct preoccupation with the +sociology of revolutions. We have been obliged to be fairly +narrow in our interpretation of the subject. In a sense almost +everything that appears nowadays on social and political problems +might be catalogued as dealing at some point with the +sociology of revolutions. To take a wide and somewhat random +choice of well-known figures, most of the important work of +men like Spengler, H. G. Wells, Ortega y Gasset, and A. J. +Toynbee touches upon the question of revolutions and social +change. But a bibliography as inclusive as this would be pointless +or endless. We have, therefore, simply made a choice of +general books on the specific subject of the comparative study +of revolution.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Brooks Adams, <cite>The Theory of Social Revolutions</cite>. New York, +1913. One of the earliest predictions of the decline of +the West. Should be read with Mr. George Soule’s book +below.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Arthur Bauer, <cite>Essai sur les révolutions</cite>. Paris, 1908. Approaches +the problem from the psychology of the individual and +his activity in crowds. Has an interesting conceptual +scheme of revolutions as a general phenomenon.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. Delisle Burns, <cite>The Principles of Revolution</cite>. London, 1920. +From the point of view of modern anti-intellectualism, +an unrealistic study of “rationalizations.”</p> + +<p class="hangindent">L. P. Edwards, <cite>The Natural History of Revolutions</cite>. Chicago, +1927. Unpretentious, suggestive, tentative. One of the +best introductions to the subject available in English. Mr. +Edwards does not pretend to do more than sketch the +essential problems and indicate possible further work. +Admirably free from special pleading.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">T. Geiger, <cite>Die Masse und ihre Aktion: Ein Beitrag zur Soziologie +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span>der Revolutionen</cite>. Stuttgart, 1926. A psychological +study, with a Marxist tinge. To a non-German, a bit in +the clouds.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">H. M. Hyndman, <cite>The Evolution of Revolution</cite>. London, 1927. +By one of the pioneers of Marxist Socialism in England. +Not very illuminating nowadays.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. Lebon, <cite>The Psychology of Revolution</cite>. English translation. +New York, 1913. Lebon’s reputation as a social psychologist +has sunk considerably. This is the work of a frightened +anti-intellectualist.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Arthur Liebert, <cite>Vom Geist der Revolutionen</cite>. Berlin, 1919. +A brief discussion of the rational and emotional origins +of revolution, and an analysis of the crisis period.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">Leon de Poncius, <cite>Les forces secrètes de la révolution</cite>. Paris, +1929. A good example of the kind of writing which attributes +modern revolutions to wicked conspirators—in this +case Jews and freemasons. For those who do not read +French, the works of Mrs. Nesta Webster may be recommended +as an adequate sample of this approach. See especially +her <cite>Secret Societies and Subversive Movements</cite>, +London, 1924, and <cite>The French Revolution: A Study in +Democracy</cite>. New York, 1920.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">C. Malaparte, <cite>Coup d’état, the Technique of Revolution</cite>. English +translation, New York, 1932. An annoyingly bright +young Italian Fascist intellectual writes on <em>the only</em> way +to make a revolution. As narrow and, in a perverted sense, +idealistic as any Marxist writing.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">E. D. Martin, <cite>Farewell to Revolution</cite>. New York, 1935. A very +able and sensible writer on political and social problems +has here allowed his fears to lead him into writing a bad +book. Mr. Martin, as his choice of title indicates, is writing +a book <em>against</em> revolutions of all sorts. Hastily assembled +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span>from inadequate materials. Stands up badly in comparison +with L. P. Edwards’s book above.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">R. W. Postgate, <cite>How to Make a Revolution</cite>. New York, 1934. +An English Leftist, formerly a Communist and now apparently +just Labour, writes rather wistfully about the +possibilities of a decent, respectable revolution in Western +countries. A good deal of useful discussion of the +techniques of modern revolutionary parties of the Left, +with touches of very English humor.</p> + +<p style="padding-left:1.5em"><cite>Revolution from 1789 to 1906.</cite> London, 1920. Mr. Postgate +has here made a handy collection of constitutions, +bills of rights, manifestoes and similar documents touching +the important revolutionary movements of the period.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">S. A. Reeves, <cite>The Natural Laws of Social Convulsions</cite>. New +York, 1933. A most ambitious attempt to apply the methods +of the physical sciences to the subject. Mr. Reeves is +not skeptical enough to be a scientist. He emerges with +forty-five “natural” or “cosmic” laws, of which Law XLV is +a not unfair example: “Man would rather Die, even in Prolonged +Agony, than to Think.” The work of a doctrinaire +person on the edge of the lunatic fringe, and much influenced +by the position of men like Herbert Spencer, it +has none the less a good deal of useful material.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">E. Rosenstock-Hüssy, <cite>Die europäische Revolutionen</cite>. Jena, +1931. Written in what to an American seems the German +cloud-cuckoo-land of beautiful and inexact ideas, choosing +convenient and rejecting inconvenient facts, something in +the tradition of Spengler, but with the kindly hopes of a +man of good will. Full of interesting suggestions and flashes +of insight, poetic to a prosaic nature. An English version +by the author is promised.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">S. D. Schmalhausen, Editor, <cite>Recovery through Revolution</cite>. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>New York, 1933. Chapters contributed by Louis Fischer, +Harold Laski, Carleton Beals, Robert Briffault, G. Salvemini, +and others. Rapid narrative accounts of the principal +fields of revolutionary activity since the war, Germany, +Russia, China, South America, Italy, and Spain.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">H. See, <cite>Evolution et révolutions</cite>. Paris, 1929. A somewhat +pedestrian examination of the English, French, and American +revolutions, those of the nineteenth century and the +Russian revolution. Excellent brief bibliographies for the +revolutions discussed.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">P. A. Sorokin, <cite>Social and Cultural Dynamics</cite>. Vol. III, <cite>Fluctuations +of Social Relationships, War and Revolutions</cite>. New +York, 1937. Mr. Sorokin’s general position is an emotional +dislike for the contemporary world, which is, he thinks, +about to undergo a worse series of wars and revolutions +than any the human race has yet had to put up with. This +Volume III has a most imposing set of statistics to show +that revolutions have been more or less endemic in Western +civilization. Some such conclusion might have been +made safely without all these statistics, which in detail are +not altogether reliable. They tend to exaggerate the +amount of violence and bloodshed since 1900.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">G. Soule, <cite>The Coming American Revolution</cite>. New York, 1934. +A thoughtful, temperate book written by one of the more +temperate of American “liberals.” The book deals much +more widely with the general subject of revolutions than +its title would indicate.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INDEX"> + INDEX + </h2> +</div> + + +<ul class="index"> + <li class="ifrst">Abbott, Professor W. C., <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Abortive revolution, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Adams, John, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Adams, Sam, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, + <a href="#Page_297">297</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><cite>Agreement of the People, The</cite>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Albemarle, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + <li class="indx">All-Russian Central Executive Committee, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">All-Russian Congress of Soviets, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">American Civil War, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> + + <li class="indx">American Revolution, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, + <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Anabaptists, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Antinomians, <a href="#Page_154">154</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Antonov-Ovseënko, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Arnold, Matthew, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Articles of Confederation, the, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Asceticism, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Assembly of Notables, the, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Babeuf, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bacon, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bagehot, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bailly, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Barebone, Praise-God, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bastille Day, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Baxter, <a href="#Page_120">120</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Beaumarchais, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bentham, Jeremy, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Berkman, Alexander, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bitzenko, Madame, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Blake, Admiral, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bolsheviks, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, + <a href="#Page_268">268</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bonaparte, Napoleon, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Boston Massacre, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Boston Port Bill, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Boston Tea Party, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Brest-Litovsk, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Brissot, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Brissotins, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Brusilov, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Bunker Hill, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Burke, Edmund, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Cabarrus, Teresia de, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cagliostro, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Camus, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Career open to talent, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Carlyle, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Carrier, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cassandra, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Catherine the Great, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cavaliers, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ceremonial, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Chamberlin, W. H., <a href="#Page_198">198</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Charles I, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Charles II, <a href="#Page_259">259</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Chase, Stuart, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Chaucer, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cheka, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Chicherin, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Chkheidze, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cicero, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Civil Constitution of the Clergy, the, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Class struggle, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cochin, A., <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Coleridge, <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Comité de surété générale, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Comités révolutionnaires, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Committee of Public Safety, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span>Committees of Correspondence, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Communist party, the, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Compromisists, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Comsomol, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Conceptual scheme, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Concord, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Condorcet, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Conservative revolution, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Continental Congress, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Convention, the, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Criminals and revolution, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Cromwell, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, + <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Danton, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Desmoulins, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Diaz, Porfirio, <a href="#Page_36">36</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Dictatorship, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Digby, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Diggers, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Disorder, endemic, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Downing, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Du Barry, Madame, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Dubois, Abbé, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Dzerzhinsky, Felix, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Economic change, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Economic motivation, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, + <a href="#Page_239">239</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Economic prosperity, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Economic want, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Edwards, Lyford P., <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Eliot, Sir John, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Emigration, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> + + <li class="indx">English Revolution, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, + <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, + <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><em>Enragés</em>, the, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Episcopalians, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Equilibrium, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Essex, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Estates-General, the, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Everard, Robert, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Falkland, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> + + <li class="indx">February Revolution, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Feuillants, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Fifth Monarchy Men, <a href="#Page_152">152</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Figaro, <a href="#Page_82">82</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Force, use of, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ford, Henry, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Foreign war, role of, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Fouché, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Fourier, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> + + <li class="indx">France, Anatole, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Freemasons, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> + + <li class="indx">French Revolution, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, + <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, + <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li> + + <li class="indx">French revolutionary calendar, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Freud, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Friends of Peace, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Gage, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><em>Gaspee</em>, the, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + <li class="indx">George III, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gironde, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Girondins, the, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gogol, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gooch, Professor G. P., <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Goodwin, John, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gorki, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gottschalk, Professor L. R., <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Grand Duke Michael, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Grand Remonstrance, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Graydon, Alexander, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Grierson, Professor, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Guchkov, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Gwyn, Nell, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Hampden, John, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hancock, John, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hare, John, <a href="#Page_204">204</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Haselrig, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><cite>Heads of the Proposals, The</cite>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hébert, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><em>Hébertistes</em>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span>Henderson, Professor L. J., <a href="#Page_19">19</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Henry, Patrick, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a></li> + + <li class="indx">d’Herbois, Collot, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Historical method, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Holles, Denzil, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_177">177</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Holmby House, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Homosexuality, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></li> + + <li class="indx">House of Commons, five members of, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hutchinson, Governor, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hutchinson, Mrs. Lucy, <a href="#Page_72">72</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hutton, Barbara, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Hyde, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Idealism and revolution, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Idealists and revolution, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ideas, role of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Independents, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, + <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Induction, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Industrial Revolution, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ireton, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Jacobins, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, + <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> + + <li class="indx">James I, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Jameson, J. F., <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Jefferson, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Joffe, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Johnson, Mrs. Francis, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> + + <li class="indx">“July Days,” <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Kadets, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Kalinin, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Kamenev, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><cite>Kapital, Das</cite>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Karakhan, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Kerensky, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, + <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Kimbolton, Lord, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Konavalov, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Kornilov, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ku Klux Klan, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Lafayette, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, + <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lameths, the, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Laud, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lavoisier, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Law, John, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Leaders, revolutionary, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">League of the Militant Godless, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lenin, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, + <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, + <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lenthall, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Le Play, <a href="#Page_279">279</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lerner, Max, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Levellers, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lewis, Sinclair, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lilburne, John, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Linde, Fedor, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Long Parliament, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Louis XV, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Louis XVI, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ludlow, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lunacharsky, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lunatic fringe, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lvov, Prince, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Lyons, Eugene, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Machiavelli, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Machinery of government, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Madison, <a href="#Page_175">175</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Maitland, F. W., <a href="#Page_193">193</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Malesherbes, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marat, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, + <a href="#Page_235">235</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marie Antoinette, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marston Moor, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marten, Henry, <a href="#Page_141">141</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Martin, E. D., <a href="#Page_272">272</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marx, Karl, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, + <a href="#Page_296">296</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Marxists, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, + <a href="#Page_221">221</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mathiez, Albert, <a href="#Page_252">252</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Maximum, Law of the, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span>Mencken, H. L., <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mensheviks, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mercier, L. S., <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Merriman, Professor R. B., <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Military Revolution Committee, <a href="#Page_197">197</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Militia Order, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Miliukov, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mill, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Millenarians, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Miller, J. C., <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Milton, John, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Minorities, role of, <a href="#Page_182">182</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mirabeau, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, + <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Molasses Act, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Molière, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Monge, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Montaigne, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Morison, Professor S. E., <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Morley, Christopher, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Morris, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mounier, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Mountain, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Muir, Ramsay, <a href="#Page_42">42</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Napoleon, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Narodniks, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Naseby, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> + + <li class="indx">National Assembly, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Nationalism, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Nationalistic revolution, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Natural law, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Navigation Act, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Necker, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> + + <li class="indx">New Economic Policy, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Newman, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">New Model Army, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, + <a href="#Page_182">182</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Nicholas II, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">October revolution, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Order Number One, <a href="#Page_173">173</a></li> + + <li class="indx">d’Orléans, Duc, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Paine, Thomas, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pareto, V., <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Parliament, Short, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Paris Commune of 1871, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pâris-Duverney, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Parlements, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Parliament of Saints, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Peasantry, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><em>Peggy Stewart</em>, the, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pétion, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Petition of Right, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Petrovsky, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pettee, Dr. George, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Philosophes, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pitt, William, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Plato, <a href="#Page_81">81</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Plebiscites, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Poincaré, H., <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pokrovsky, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Presbyterians, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pressure groups, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Preston Pans, <a href="#Page_155">155</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pride’s Purge, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Proletariat, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Propaganda, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Protopopov, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Puritans, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Pym, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Quebec Act, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Rasputin, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Religious symbolism, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Renaming, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Revolution, abortive, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">American, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, + <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">conservative, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">criminals and, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">definitions of, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">English, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, + <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, + <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">February, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">French, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>, + <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, + <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_262">262</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span>idealism and, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">idealists and, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">nationalistic, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">October, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">Russian, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, + <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, + <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">territorial, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Revolutions of 1848, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Revolutionary proselyters, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Revolutionist, clichés about, <a href="#Page_114">114</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Richelieu, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Rivarol, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Robespierre, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, + <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, + <a href="#Page_297">297</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Rogers, John, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Roland, Madame, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Root-and-Branch Bill, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Rousseau, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ruling class, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Rump, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Russian revolution, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, + <a href="#Page_108">108</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, + <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Sade, Marquis de, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sainte-Beuve, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> + + <li class="indx">St. Huruge, Marquis de, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li> + + <li class="indx">St. Simon, Comte de, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Schlesinger, Professor Arthur M., <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Scientific method, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Self-denying ordinance, <a href="#Page_172">172</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sexby, Edward, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Shaftesbury, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Shays’s Rebellion, <a href="#Page_270">270</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Shelley, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Ship Money, <a href="#Page_54">54</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Short Parliament, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Siéyès, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Signers of Declaration of Independence, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Smith, Adam, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Social change, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Socialist-Revolutionary party, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sociétés de pensée, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Society for Encouraging Trade and Commerce with the Province of Massachusetts Bay, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sokolov, N. D., <a href="#Page_174">174</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sons of Liberty, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sovereignty, problem of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Spencer, H., <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Stalin, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, + <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Stamp Act, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><em>Stewart</em>, the <em>Peggy</em>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Stoddard, Lothrop, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Stolypin, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Strachey, Lytton, <a href="#Page_203">203</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Strafford, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Strode, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sukharevka Market, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Sverdlov, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Taine, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Talleyrand, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_261">261</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tallien, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Talma, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tammany Hall, <a href="#Page_185">185</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tawney, R. H., <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tax reform, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tennyson, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tereschenko, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Theophrastus, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Théot, Catherine, <a href="#Page_205">205</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Third Estate, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Thucydides, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Tocqueville, A. de, <a href="#Page_273">273</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Townshend, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Trevelyan, Professor G. M., <a href="#Page_202">202</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Trotsky, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, + <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_183">183</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, + <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Trudoviks, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> + + <li class="indx"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span>Tseretelli, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Turgenev, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Turgot, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Uniformities, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, + <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, <a href="#Page_274">274</a>, <a href="#Page_286">286</a>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Valentine, <a href="#Page_86">86</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Vallée, Rudy, <a href="#Page_75">75</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Vane, Sir Harry, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Vergniaud, <a href="#Page_145">145</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Violence, role of, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Voltaire, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Washington, George, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Washington, Laurence, <a href="#Page_223">223</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Watteau, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Webb, Sidney and Beatrice, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Weber, Max, <a href="#Page_226">226</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Webster, Mrs. Nesta, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Wells, H. G., <a href="#Page_178">178</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Westminster Assembly, <a href="#Page_153">153</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Winstanley, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> + + <li class="indx">Wordsworth, <a href="#Page_111">111</a></li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Zinoviev, <a href="#Page_145">145</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr class="tb x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<h2 style="margin-top: 0em">Transcriber’s Notes:</h2> + +<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +<p>Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in +the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors +have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Punctuation has been made consistent.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78065 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78065-h/images/cover.jpg b/78065-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4500dc --- /dev/null +++ b/78065-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78065-h/images/i_title.jpg b/78065-h/images/i_title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8402e98 --- /dev/null +++ b/78065-h/images/i_title.jpg diff --git a/78065-h/images/logo.jpg b/78065-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6154501 --- /dev/null +++ b/78065-h/images/logo.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7234cdd --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #78065 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78065) |
