IN the two general
elections of 1910, the man in the limelight was Mr. Lloyd George who has
managed to retain that position fairly continuously ever since, though
he has long ago made friends of his whilom enemies, and has thrust aside
the semi-revolutionary ladder by which he rose to fame and power. The
agitations over the land taxation budget and House of Lords’ reforms
seem now very remote, and in view of recent jugglings with national
finance extremely futile. But at the time I have now reached, it was an
exceedingly noisy agitation and apparently sincere. Mr. George, with his
lurid hen-roost oratory, and the peers, with their die-in-the-last-ditch
constitutionalism, had, between them, created a decidedly class-war
atmosphere, and there were timid people who actually believed that the
nation was on the eve of great events foreshadowing, in the words of
Lord Rosebery, the “end of all things.” The Labour Party in Parliament
had naturally supported the land taxation proposals and also those for a
super-tax on incomes, but only as initial concessions to the Socialist
claim that all unearned increment should belong to the nation. Philip
Snowden, now the recognised exponent of Socialist finance, made this
unmistakably clear in a series of brilliant speeches at various stages
of the Finance Bill. On the question of the House of Lords, the Labour
Party stood for the abolition of that institution, but, as a matter of
practical politics supported any proposal having for its object the
immediate limitation of the power of the second Chamber. The Labour and
the Liberal Parties were thus, though in principle far apart as the
poles, in apparent accord on electoral policy—a state of matters not to
the advantage of Labour. The strategical weakness of the Liberals lay in
the fact that they had not, and could not have, any policy on
unemployment to counter the attractive and strongly boomed Tariff Reform
proposals of the Unionists.
In the election which
took place in January, 1910, the Liberals lost one hundred seats and the
Labour Party lost five. All the leading Labour men, however, held their
seats, Hardie keeping his by a greatly increased majority, though on
this occasion he had a second Liberal opponent, in the person of
Pritchard Morgan, whom he had defeated in 1900, and who now, as if
determined on revenge, conducted' the usual campaign of scurrilous abuse
and misrepresentation. One very special lie circulated assiduously and
insidiously, though not in print, represented Hardie as being a man of
wealth, who owned an estate in Scotland and had sold the “Labour Leader”
to the I.L.P. for £20,000. Up to the last there were credulous people
who believed these stupid stories and pestered him for subscriptions to
various kinds of ostensibly charitable objects. He, as a matter of fact,
had refused to subscribe to local institutions such as football clubs
and bowling clubs, for the sufficient reason that over and above his
objections on principle, he had hardly enough income to meet the frugal
requirements of his own household. The election campaign on this
occasion was more prolonged and even more strenuous than the two
previous ones, but need not be described here. The result seemed to
carry with it the assurance that his position in Merthyr was absolutely
impregnable. He had polled 13,841 votes as compared with 10,187 in 1906,
and his majority had increased from 2,411 to 9,105.
An extract from his
election address may be given as showing with what skill he raised the
contest above merely temporary or local controversies. “There are issues
that go deeper than any of those raised by the traditional parties in
this contest. Mr. Balfour has said that he wants this election fought on
the issues of Socialism and Tariff Reform. I accept Mr. Balfour’s
challenge, and put my Socialism against his Tariff Reform. He wants to
use the State for the benefit of the rich. I want to use it for the
benefit of all. Socialism is the one system whereby man may escape from
the dreary labyrinth of poverty, vice and beggarliness in life in which
the race is now aimlessly wandering.”
He himself attributed his
electoral success to the fact that Socialism had been made the supreme
issue, and the following February, in his closing words as chairman of
the Labour Party Conference, he affirmed adherence to that principle to
be a necessary condition of success for the entire Labour Party.
“Whether we like it or not, in every contest we wage, our opponents will
see to it that Socialism is kept well to the front. Our candidates and
workers will therefore do well to equip themselves for that line of
attack. Socialism has no terrors for honest people. The caricatures and
vile misrepresentation of Socialism fail entirely when the case for
Socialism is put lucidly before the people. We do not want to see any
vain beating of the air as is too often done in the name of Socialism,
but it is imperative that every man who is put forward as a candidate
under Labour auspices should be able to defend and expound Socialism
when it is attacked by the enemies of Labour.”
It must be confessed that
there have been, and still are, many Labour candidates whose
qualifications do not conform to the standard set up by the founder of
the Labour Party.
In passing, it should be
noted that this year the British Miners’ Federation became affiliated to
the Labour Party, and thus another decisive step was taken in the
political consolidation of the working class.
All through the year the
great constitutional controversy continued, and the people became so
deeply engrossed shouting for or against Lloyd George that they forgot
all about Sir Edward Grey, a much more fateful statesman if they had
only known it.
The rival partisans
debated hotly as to whether the House of Lords should be ended or
mended, as to how many new peers it would be necessary to create to
render that House impotent, or as to how many times a reformed Second
Chamber should be allowed to throw out a Bill before it became law; and
while this political comedy of “much ado about next to nothing” was
proceeding, the diplomats and the Imperialists were not idle.
Lord Roberts continued
his propaganda for compulsory military service, the introduction of
which the War Office partially anticipated by encouraging railway
companies and large employers of labour to make service in the
Territorial forces a condition of employment. Mr. Haldane’s “nation in
arms” was materialising in spite of protests from Hardie and his
colleagues. The Admiralty was getting its Dreadnoughts built. .Germany
was adding to its fleet. France was raising the peacetime strength of
its army, and, more fateful than all, British and French financiers were
investing their millions in Russia, and staking out concessions of
industrially exploitable territory in that unhappy Czar-ridden country.
In the midst of the evolution of a policy in which he took special
interest and played a prominent part, King Edward died. His successor
was enthroned. Liberals and Tories called a temporary truce. They
mingled their tears for the dead monarch, combined their cheers for the
living one, and then went on with the farce, “The Peers versus the
People.”
One tragic interlude
there was, turning public attention for a few brief hours to the
realities of industrial life. This was the Whitehaven disaster.
Following close upon the death of King Edward came the death of one
hundred and thirty working miners under appalling and, as many people
believed, preventable circumstances; repeated recommendations by special
scientific investigators for the minimising of risks of explosions in
mines having been ignored alike by the Home Office and by the mineowners
chiefly because of the expense. The feeling raised amongst the mining
community by the Whitehaven disaster was, if anything, intensified by
what many of them regarded as the too hasty .closing up of the mine
before all possible efforts at rescue had been exhausted. Hardie, ever
sensitive where the lives of miners were concerned, gave public
expression to his opinion that when the mine was bricked up the men were
probably still alive; an opinion which Mr. Churchill, the Home
Secretary, described as “cruel and disgraceful.” Hardie, of course, was
not the man to rest under such an aspersion. He repeated his statement
in Parliament, and in an interview replied directly to Churchill’s
accusation, and raised the whole question of safety in mines. “Mr.
Winston Churchill’s comment,” he said, “is characterised by
righteousness which could only proceed from a total ignorance of what I
said and of the facts of the case. In the course of the speech to which
Mr. Churchill refers I gave it as my opinion, based upon my practical
experience as a miner, that at the time it was decided to wall up the
mine the miners were in all probability still alive. I adhere to that
opinion. I further stated that had the spirit of the Mines’ Regulation
Act been carried out in connection with the working of the mine, the
disaster would not have occurred. The fire which imprisoned the miners
took place in what was known as the bottle-neck, and apparently this was
the only means of egress from the workings beyond. The bottle-neck
workings branch off in five main levels, and it would have been an easy
matter to have had a safety road laid from this to the pit shaft, so
that in the event of the main haulage road between the shaft and the
bottle-neck getting blocked up, the other would have been available for
the men to escape by. I suggested that these were matters which would
require to be investigated, and it is this suggestion which the Home
Secretary characterises as cruel and disgraceful. Working miners of the
country will have a different opinion. I hope Mr. Churchill is not more
concerned about shielding the mineowner than he is about finding out the
truth.” Whether Hardie was right as to the men being alive when the
order to close up the mines was given, cannot now be proved, but his
opinion had the support of men deeply interested in the matter, the
rescue party having to be forcibly restrained from removing the
brickwork and going on with their efforts to save life, even though told
they would be throwing their own lives away.
This catastrophe occurred
now eleven years ago. The mining community know best what improvements,
if any, have taken place since then, and they also are best able to
judge whether the kind of protests made by Keir Hardie were necessary or
not. He never forgot that he was a miner, and a representative of
miners.
In the endeavour to
preserve some continuity in this story of Hardie’s life, the writer has
up to the present found it difficult to bring into view one aspect of
his nature which is, nevertheless, essential to form a complete estimate
of the man. His love for and understanding of children was only equalled
by the love of children for him. It was a case of “like draws to like.”
Young folk were drawn to him as he to them, instinctively. He has spoken
of himself as the man who never was a child, and that was true so far as
his own literal experience was concerned. Yet it might be even truer to
say that he was all his life a child. Perhaps, even, it was his
childlike directness and straightforwardness that rendered him immune
from all kinds of sophistry and double-dealing and made him a perpetual
puzzle to men of the world playing the game of politics. Be that as it
may, it was certainly true that even in the midst of the most serious
work he could lift himself out of the hurly-burly and become as a little
child. In the many households which he entered during his goings to and
fro, the presence of children always put him at his ease and made him
feel at home. There are many grown-up men and women in the Socialist
movement who cherish as one of the unforgettable things of their
bairntime the occasion when Keir Hardie took them upon his knee, or
hoisted them on to his shoulders and made chums of them. He could tell
them stories, _ wonderful stories—stories sometimes of the wise pit
ponies that were his own chums in the days of his boyhood, or of the
ongoings of “Roy,” the wise collie waiting to welcome him home far away
in Cumnock, or of the Red Indians he had met in America, or, as often
happened, a fairy tale made up “out of his own head”— that very head
amongst whose grizzled locks the hands of the delighted youngsters were
at that moment playing.
This love and
understanding of children did not in any way interfere with or hinder
his work for Socialism. It became part and parcel of it. In the 1910
volume of the “Young Socialist”—this very year when he and his
colleagues were beset by so much political perplexity—there is a short
story entitled “Jim” written by him. A story of a forlorn London slum
laddie and of two equally forlorn London slum dogs—the only dogs in
fiction I think that ever entered Heaven. It is a simply told tale
blended of fantasy and realism, of humour and pathos, and of tender deep
compassion. The literary world, of course, never heard of this child
story by Keir Hardie, nor of others of the same kind which he wrote from
time to time. They were not written to gain money, or reputation. They
were written for the children of the Socialist movement. In the early
years of the “Labour Leader” he, under the norn de plume of “Daddy
Time,” conducted a children’s column and from week to week held homelv
converse with the bairns. Around this weekly talk there grew a kind of
young folk’s fellowship, which called itself “The Crusaders,” and out of
this again there came the Socialist Sunday School movement, the mere
sound and rumour of which has made the hairs of so many pious but
ignorant people stand on end. Good men and women gave their time and
love to the building of it. Miss Lizzie Glasier, the sister of Bruce
Glasier, Archibald McArthur (known as “Uncle Archie”), Clarice McNab,
now Mrs. B. H. Shaw, Alfred Russell, Robert Donaldson, Fred Coates,
Alex. Gossip, John Burns (of Glasgow), and a host of others, but all
deriving their inspiration from Hardie, who, to them, was literally the
“Great Exemplar.” Thousands of young folks have passed through the
schools and into the fighting and teaching ranks of the general
Socialist advance. And so, in the words of William Morris, “the cause
goes marching on,” and with it the name and the memory of Keir Hardie.
September brought the
International Socialist Congress once more, this time at Copenhagen.
This Congress is memorable chiefly for the proposal by the I.L.P., with
the approval of the British section, that the General Strike should be
considered as a means of preventing war. This proposal took the form of
an amendment to the resolution brought forward by the Commission on
Anti-Militarism. Hardie had endeavoured to get his proposal incorporated
in the resolutions, and, failing in that, now moved it as an amendment.
In view of all that has happened since, and of what is happening still
in the efforts to reconstitute a satisfactory Socialist International,
it will be wise to reproduce these resolutions here, with the “General
Strike” amendment.
“The Congress,
reiterating the oft-repeated duty of Socialist representatives in the
Parliaments to combat militarism with all the means at their command and
to refuse the means of armaments, requires from its representatives :—
“(a) The constant
reiteration of the demand that international arbitration be made
compulsory in all international disputes;
“(b) Persistent and
repeated proposals in the direction of ultimate disarmament, and, above
all, as a first step, the conclusion of a general treaty limiting naval
armaments and abrogating the right of privateering;
“(c) The demand for the
abolition of secret diplomacy and the publication of all existing and
future agreements between the Governments;
“(d) The guarantee of the
independence of all nations and their protection from military attacks
and violent suppression.
“The International
Socialist Bureau will support all Socialist organisations in this fight
against militarism by furnishing them with the necessary data and
information, and will, when the occasion arises, endeavour to bring
about united action. In case of warlike complications this Congress
re-affirms the resolution of the Stuttgart Congress, which reads :—
“In case of war being
imminent, the working classes and their Parliamentary representatives in
the countries concerned shall be bound, with the assistance of the
International Socialist Bureau, to do all they can to prevent the
breaking out of the war, using for this purpose the means which appear
to them to be most efficacious, and which must naturally vary according
to the acuteness of the struggle of classes and to the general political
conditions.
“In case war should break
out notwithstanding, they shall be bound to intervene, that it may be
brought to a speedy end, and to employ all their forces for utilising
the economical and political crisis created by the war, in order to
rouse the masses of the people and to hasten the downfall of the
predominance of the capitalist class.
‘For the proper execution
of these measures the Congress directs the Bureau, in the event of a war
menace, to take immediate steps to bring about an immediate agreement
among the Labour parties of the countries affected for united action to
prevent the threatened war.’ ”
It is easy now to make
comment upon the inherent ineffectiveness of these proposals. They were,
however, the outcome of years of deliberation by men of various
nationalities who were sincerely desirous of two things, the abolition
of war and the establishment of Socialism, and the real secret of their
inutility may, perhaps, be found in the fatalism expressed in the
preamble, which declared that “war will only cease with the
disappearance of capitalist production.” A belief in the inevitability
of war is not a good foundation upon which to build measures of
prevention. These proposals relied upon Parliamentary action to prevent
war, and presupposed a much greater possession of political power on the
part of Labour than has ever existed; and they certainly did not
contemplate a world conflagration involving nations that had no
parliamentary institutions whatever.
The I.L.P. amendment
proposed extra-parliamentary action; direct action in fact, on an
international scale. It was as follows : “This Congress recommends the
affiliated Parties and Labour organisations to consider the advisability
and feasability of the general strike, especially in industries that
supply war material, as one of the methods of preventing war, and that
action be taken on the subject at the next Congress.”
The next Congress would
be in 1913, and we can now see that if in the intervening years, the
preparatory steps for enforcing this proposal had been taken, there
would yet have been time for putting its efficacy to the test in August,
1914. In moving this amendment, the British section believed they were
making a thoroughly practical proposal for the preservation of
international peace. Somewhere there may be in existence a verbatim
report of Hardie’s speech. A very brief summary, mainly taken from the
descriptive account of the Congress by Bruce Glasier in the “Labour
Leader,” will suffice here. Hardie began by stating that he desired that
the position of the Socialist and Labour movement in Britain should be
understood by their foreign comrades. It had been much misrepresented.
The British Labour Party took a very definite stand against war. They
were not only anti-war but anti-military, which was not quite the same
thing. A standing army was an indication that the State was founded on
force. Militarism and freedom could not exist side by side. It was a
source of great pleasure to him to find that the Socialists of Denmark
and Norway were not only against large expenditure in armaments, but
were opposed to armaments altogether and had moved for their complete
abolition. There was, he declared, a big place in history for the nation
which has the courage and faith to disarm itself. No country, not even
despotic Russia, would dare to attack an unarmed nation. Dealing with
the argument used in the capitalist press for a large navy, he said that
the refusal of the Hague Conference, in obedience to the British
Government, to abolish the capture of merchandise at sea, did much to
excuse, though it might not justify, that argument. He dissociated the
British movement from the articles by Blatchford and Hyndman in the
capitalist press, and in “Justice” and the “Clarion.” He believed that
the S.D.P. delegates would endorse his statement that on this question
these men spoke only for themselves, and that every section of the
Socialist movement in Britain disapproved of their utterances and their
conduct in taking sides with the capitalist press. Ledebour, without
knowing the difference between the German and the British Budget, had
attacked the British Labour Party for voting for taxation, and Hardie
replied. To vote for the rejection of the entire Budget, would be to
vote against the provision of money for Old Age Pensions, against the
payment of wages for the servants of the State, and against every social
undertaking of the State. The I.L.P. in Britain were arranging for a
great campaign against war. Jaures and Vandervelde were coming to speak,
and he hoped that Ledebour himself or some other German comrade would
come also. Turning to his own amendment, he offered to Ledebour (the
mover of the official resolution) to withdraw the addition, provided he
would agree to the Bureau circulating a paragraph embodying the
amendment. The French, American and South German delegates on the
Commission agreed to support that, but Ledebour, on behalf of the
Germans, declined. It was true that a general strike against war could
only come by the international agreement of the workers. But did they
not know that the miners at their recent International Conference had
actually agreed that this very question should be referred to their
Executive in order that it might be considered at their next Conference.
The miners alone could prevent war by withholding supplies. We must give
the workers a great lead. He did not expect that the workers were at
present ready to strike against war. But they never would be ready to do
so unless we helped to educate them by pointing out to them their duty.
The value, for us, of
this utterance, even abbreviated, lies in the fact that it is
illuminative. It throws light on the mental attitudes on both sides in
the discussion, and we are forced to the conclusion that all these men
were actuated by the highest motives and were sincerely striving to find
a solution for the problems confronting humanity. The Germans would not
mislead the Congress by voting for a resolution which they thought
impracticable. Their Marxian theories of economic determinism made it
easy for the Imperialist and Militarist forces to pursue their policy.
They were like the rabbit paralysed by the serpent, but they honourably
told the Congress that if a war came they did not believe that a general
strike could be made to stop it. The “Time Forces” were against the
International leaders. Capitalism and Imperialism were developing faster
than International Socialism and proletarian power.
On this question it was
not found necessary to divide the Congress. The resolution was carried
on the understanding that the amendment should be considered by the
International Socialist Bureau, the German section agreeing to this.
This was not Hardie’s
only visit to the Continent during this year. In May, he had been to
Lille, in France, as chief speaker in a propaganda crusade organised by
the National Council of the Pleasant Sunday Afternoon and the
Brotherhood movements of Great Britain. To some scoffers the idea of
British Nonconformists teaching continental workers how to spend
pleasant Sunday afternoons was not without its humour; but that aspect
did not appeal to Hardie. To him it was another opportunity for
preaching Socialism and international goodwill, and He made full use of
it. His name and fame brought together a great assemblage of working
folk, and besides speaking in the great hall of L’Union de Lille, he had
to address an overflow meeting of some six thousand in the Square,
delivering an oration which, by its religious fervour and idealism, made
him more than ever a man of mystery to the scientific Socialists who
found in the materialist conception of history the only key to the
explanation of every problem. What kind of a Socialist could he be who
said, “Behind nature there is a Power, unseen but felt. Beyond death
there is a Something, else were life on earth a mere wastage,” and who
declared, “I myself have found in the Christianity of Christ the
inspiration which first of all drove me into the movement and has
carried me on in it. Yet this man was an advocate of the general strike.
They could not understand him. Nor could the commercialised professors
of Christianity. To both he was an enigma.
There was nothing
enigmatical, however, about his action a few weeks later, when, in the
House of Commons, he was attacking the Home Secretary and the War
Minister for having sent police and military into Wales during a miners’
strike. This dispute had originated in the Rhondda Valley, where 11,000
miners had come out on strike, demanding an equalisation of wages with
other collieries—demanding, in fact, a minimum wage. There had been some
disturbance at Tonypandy, due, as Hardie alleged, to the importation of
police from outside the district. In addition to the imported police,
military had been sent into the district, and also to Aberaman, which
was in Hardie’s constituency, where he maintained there had not been
even a semblance of riot or disturbance. In the strike district the
police had interfered to prevent picketing, which he contended was still
lawful, and, in fact, he charged Mr. Haldane and Mr. Churchill with
using the forces at their disposal to protect blacklegs and help the
masters against the men. In proof of his assertion that the rioting was
due to outside influence, he pointed out that at Pen-y-craig, where
there were no imported police, there had been no rioting, though there
had been picketing and demonstrations of the kind common to a labour
dispute. There was not even a window broken in this district. In raising
this matter in the House, Hardie was, of course, supported by the
Parliamentary Labour Party, and also by his Liberal colleague in the
representation of Merthyr, Mr. Edgar Jones. A debate ensued, followed by
a division, the only effect of which was to emphasise the fact that, in
a quarrel between labour and capital, Liberals and Tories were united on
the side of capital. From Hardie’s point of view this was worth while.
Every time this was demonstrated, the need for Labour representation was
also demonstrated. This might not be the class war according to the
Marxists, nor brotherly love according to the churches; but it was one
of the roads to Socialism according to Hardie. He might, with some
truth, have claimed that he was a better Marxist and a better Christian
than either of them.
About this time he
produced a scheme for the starting of a Socialist daily newspaper, the
need for which had long been recognised, and had so far proceeded with
his plans as to justify him in the hope that the first number would
appear on May 1st of the following year. Another General Election,
however, intervened, absorbing all the energy and spare cash of the
Party, and later there emerged from the Labour Party a more ambitious,
though not, in the opinion of the present writer, a more useful, scheme.
The “Daily Citizen” was the outcome.
Night after night in
Parliament he continued questioning and compelling discussion on the
state of matters in South Wales, always producing fresh evidence in
proof of the barbarous methods of the police authorities, and demanding
an impartial inquiry into the whole circumstances of the dispute, until
in the first week in December there came the General Election, and the
transference of his activities to the actual scene of industrial strife.
The strike was still proceeding. There was much distress in the Rhondda
and in parts of the Merthyr constituency, and, in view of the action of
the Government in the dispute, the Liberals did not dare to put up a
candidate against him. There was a Unionist candidate, but without even
a hope of success, and for Hardie the result was never in doubt. He
polled 11,507 votes, and his majority was 6,230. It was the end. He did
not know, nor could he nor anyone know, that he had fought his last
election contest, and that that night he had heard for the last time the
crowds hail him victor. His death was to cause the next Merthyr fight.
And by that time Merthyr had changed; the whole world had changed.
The calamity which he
dreaded, and which he fought so hard to avert, had come to pass. It was
at least in keeping with his life that his last political campaign
amongst the Merthyr miners should have had for its first and immediate
issue the well-being of his class and craft.
In the outcome of this
election the Labour Party more than regained its position. It went back
to Parliament forty-two in number. Of these, eight were I.L.P. nominees,
the most outstanding amongst the newcomers being George Lansbury and Tom
Richardson; the latter’s return as an I.L.P. nominee being a significant
sign of the advance towards Socialism on the part of the North of
England miners.
The Liberal and Tory
Parties had exactly two hundred and seventy-two members each. The
Liberal Government was therefore dependent for its continuance in office
upon the Irish Party and the Labour Party. In these circumstances, had
it not been that Liberal and Tory were alike Imperialist, there might
have been no war in 1914.
It is strange 'to reflect
that during the whole of this General Election the subject of war was
never mentioned. Foreign policy was never mentioned. Armaments were
never mentioned. Yet a Government was elected that took this country
into the most terrible war the world has ever seen. As a decoy-duck
Lloyd George was a success. He attracted the fire that should have been
directed against Grey and Haldane and the British war-lords. Only the
Socialists were alive to the impending danger. During November, the
I.L.P. had carried through a strenuous anti-militarist campaign, holding
big meetings in all the large centres of population, and in December,
right in the middle of the election, and without any pre-arranged
connection therewith, there took place in the Albert Hall, London, the
great International Socialist Demonstration organised by the I.L.P. with
the view of strengthening the solidarity of Labour in all countries
against war. At this meeting Hardie was in the chair. France was
represented by Jaures; Germany by Molkenbuhr; Belgium by Vandervelde;
Great Britain by MacDonald and Anderson; America by Walter T. Mills. The
talk was all of peace and goodwill, and of the power of organised labour
to preserve Europe from the scourge of war. Jaures, the greatest of
Socialist orators, spoke like one inspired— Jaures, marked out as one of
the war’s earliest victims; yet happier was he than Hardie, for he was
to fall quickly and suddenly and to be spared from beholding the full
international collapse and the betrayals that followed it.
At least, they were
there, the Socialists of France, Germany, Belgium, Britain, the nations
that were, even then, being drawn into the whirlpool of blood; they were
there, these Socialists, doing what could be done to prevent the
catastrophe. But the people never heard them. The people were singing
the “Land Song.55 They were listening to Lloyd George and “waiting and
seeing," or rather, waiting and not seeing, what Mr. Asquith was going
to give them; and the second General Election of 1910 ended like the
first, in the achievement of nothing, except the blindfolding of the
British people and the election of a House of Commons with neither
political principle nor foresight.
Hardly had the election
cries subsided, when there came the news in the last week of the year of
another great mining disaster, this time in Lancashire at the Hulton
collieries, known as the Pretoria Pit disaster. Hardie5s last task for
the year was to write an article for the “Labour Leader," similar to so
many he had written in the course of his life, protesting against the
callous indifference of the Government and all in authority to the
continued needless sacrifice of the lives of the miners. Only those in
close daily intercourse with him knew how these recurring calamities
filled him with wrath almost to blasphemy. There was the usual coroner’s
inquest, inculpating nobody. There was the usual inquiry, followed by
recommendations six months later, but valueless without Home Office
compulsory powers. We do not require to remind ourselves that Parliament
was dominated by the vested interests.
During all this time the
Rhondda strike continued and the distress amongst the miners and their
dependents increased.- 1911, it will be remembered, was a year of
industrial upheaval almost unprecedented in its universality. In nearly
every industry the workers were at one time or other in revolt, but the
outstanding disputes were those which produced the great railway strike,
and prolonged this heartbreaking struggle in the Rhondda. In both of
these, Hardie, by sheer force of circumstances, could not help becoming
a prominent figure. His protest against the intervention of the police
and the military in the Welsh dispute has already been recorded. It was
the same cause, more tragically emphasised, which compelled the Labour
Party to raise the matter of the railway strike in Parliament. The full
story of the dispute need not be retold. The fundamental cause of the
quarrel was the refusal of the railway companies to recognise the
Railwaymen’s Union, a refusal in which the companies had the
encouragemnt of the Government. Even before the outbreak of hostilities,
and while negotiations were proceeding out of which a peaceful
settlement was possible, the Home Office, with the concurrence of the
War Office, two departments of which Mr. Churchill and Mr. Haldane were
the chiefs, had guaranteed to the companies the use of the forces of the
Crown, and did actually implement their promise to such an extent that
at one time it was estimated that every available soldier on home
service was held ready for action. The result was what might have been
expected. The railway directors stiffened their backs. The strike took
place. Non-union blacklegs were given military protection. Men were shot
down, one fatally at Liverpool, two fatally at Llanelly in Wales. In
both cases the victims were wholly unconnected with the dispute.
The fact of the
Government’s preliminary guarantee to the companies was well established
in the course of the parliamentary discussions, and the manner of their
interpretation of their powers by the military was clearly illustrated
by the evidence at the Llanelly inquest given by Major Stewart, who
repudiated the suggestion that blank cartridges were fired, and declared
that he had instructions from the War Office, empowering him to fire
without orders from the magistrates: a state of matters which meant in
effect, that a condition of martial law had been established without the
sanction of Parliament, but with the sanction of a Liberal Government,
or, in any event, of a Liberal War Minister.
The strike was settled
ultimately by the full recognition of the Union and the appointment of a
Royal Commission to inquire into the railwaymen’s grievances. In the
course of the discussion on the settlement, Mr. Lloyd George made a
violent attack on Hardie for having stated that the Government had,
while granting the aid of the military, made no attempt to bring
pressure upon the directors to meet the men. Hardie had made this
statement, referring to a declaration of the Prime Minister previous to
the strike, but Mr. George, with his customary slim dishonesty, sought
to make it appear as if Hardie’s remark applied to a subsequent stage,
when the Government had belatedly endeavoured to bring the parties
together. Hardie, of course, held to his original statement, the
truthfulness of which was testified to by the following resolution
passed by the Railwaymen’s Joint Executive : “This Joint Executive body
repudiates the unwarrantable attack by the Chancellor of the Exchequer
upon Mr. Keir Hardie for using arguments which each of the forty
representatives present at the Board of Trade feels were quite
justifiable after the language and attitude of the Prime Minister. We
further extend the best thanks of the Joint Executive, representing all
railway workers, to Mr. Keir Hardie and the Labour Party for their
splendid service in helping, both to bring the men out, and get them
back again when the truce was called.”
Another Labour dispute in
which Hardie was very directly interested, and in which he rendered
invaluable service to the workers concerned, was that which occurred at
the Dowlais Ironworks in his own constituency. This dispute had features
in common both with that of the Rhondda miners and the railwaymen. It
was a demand to have the rates of pay equalised with those paid by other
firms in the same industry, and it was also a demand for recognition of
Trade Unionism. On both points the men won after a protracted struggle,
but not before Hardie in Parliament had brought such pressure to bear
upon the Government for the enforcement of the Fair Wages’ Clause in
Government contracts that the firm, Guest. Keen and Nettlefold, Ltd.,
were compelled to concede the demands rather than lose their contracts
with the Government of India and with other Departments. This was the
kind of object lesson in the value of Labour representation which even
the most nonpolitical worker could appreciate, and the part played by
Hardie enhanced his already very great popularity with his working-class
constituents. Incidentally also it illustrated Hardie’s remarkable
capacity for assimilating knowledge in connection with other forms of
industry than that in which he was himself expert. He showed himself
able to discuss details and technicalities in connection with the steel
and iron trade as familiarly as if he had been bred to the forge instead
of the coalface. This adaptability applies to every other branch of
industry in connection with which he had a case to uphold or defend. He
was very thorough, and always made sure of his facts.
It will be perceived that
during the whole of this session his time was spent alternating between
the House of Commons and South Wales, and, as we shall see, in the
former place there were other things than industrial strikes demanding
attention. Meantime it should be noted that he was writing assiduously,
and, in addition to occasional articles in the “Labour Leader” and other
papers, was supplying two or three columns weekly to the “Merthyr
Pioneer,” a weekly paper which the local I.L.P. brought into existence
in March of this year. In this journal he found once again the medium
for the expression not merely of his opinions, but of his personality
which had been the chief characteristic of the “Labour Leader” in its
early days. Almost till the day of his death he made use of the
“Pioneer” in this way.
With all this industrial
strife and turmoil, and with an Insurance Bill and a House of Lords’
Veto Bill to talk about, it is not surprising that the general body of
the people had neither eyes nor ears for foreign affairs, and were not
aware that the nation had been brought almost to the brink of war,
though there were whispers that the possibility of the troops being
required for service abroad had hastened the railway strike settlement,
The crisis over Morocco
arising out of the rival interests of French and German financiers in
that country, in which the influence of the British Government was
manifested on the side of France, took place in June, but it was the end
of November before, on the Foreign Office vote, a parliamentary
statement could be extracted from Sir Edward Grey on a question which
had so nearly involved the country in war., In the debate which
followed, Ramsay MacDonald pointed out that it was the Socialist Party
in the German Reichstag whose influence had prevailed upon the German
Government to refrain from an immediate retort to Lloyd George’s
provocative Mansion House speech, and had thereby in all probability
preserved the peace of Europe. MacDonald rejoiced that he belonged to a
Party which was in this country the equivalent of the German Social
Democratic Party in its efforts to avert international war.
Hardie, in the same
debate, spoke with grave sarcasm of the self-confessed puerility of high
State officials. “He did not know how the rest of the House felt, but
when the Foreign Secretary was telling them how on one occasion the
German Ambassador called upon him, and Sir Edward Grey asked for some
explanation about the presence of the German warships at Agadir, the
German Ambassador replied, ‘I shall not tell anything about Agadir until
you have explained Lloyd George’s speech,’ and the Foreign Secretary
replied, ‘I shall not explain Lloyd George’s speech until you have told
us about the pres'ence of the warship at Agadir’—he could not help
feeling that two statesmen of international repute were behaving like
school children. Yet those were the men whom the two countries concerned
were asked to trust implicitly with the control of foreign affairs.”
In this same speech he
went to the root of the matter. “Let them take the whole of the
agreements concluded during the last five or six years between this
country and other countries, about Egypt, about Morocco, and about
Persia, and they would see what we were concerned with was not the
promotion of the liberties of the peoples of those countries, was not
the protection of the honour of the people of this country, but the
protection of profits and dividends.”
The situation, both in
Morocco and Egypt, as it appeared to the I.L.P. leaders, and to other
thoughtful, peace-loving people was fraught with peril, not only to this
country, but to the whole of Europe.
We may well regret that
this debate was not allowed in June instead of in November. That it was
not, shows that the Foreign Office had definitely made up its mind to
conceal events from Parliament and hoodwink it should a crisis arise.
These casual extracts
from the many utterances of MacDonald and Hardie, however, are placed
here to show that for the ultimate catastrophe, they, and those for whom
they spoke, were free from responsibility. That in the midst of all
their other work, in Parliament and in the country, they should have
been so vigilantly watchful in a sphere of politics to which the people
in general were indifferent, was due, of course, to that belief in the
international unity of interests which is inherent in the very spirit of
the Socialist movement, .They also knew far more than most Members of
Parliament, and were better able to see what was coming and how to avert
it.
MacDonald, at this very
time, was himself passing through the Vale of Sorrow, the death of Mrs.
MacDonald in the previous September having bereft him of a companionship
which could never be replaced, and which had been invaluable to the
Socialist movement.
These last years of Keir
Hardie’s life—for we are now nearing the end—are very difficult to
describe in such a way as to make vivid the environment, political,
social and intellectual, which encompassed him. These years are so near
to us in time and so unripened as to their harvest, that it seems like
writing about current events, and yet they are separated from us by an
intervening history so immeasurable in its effects, that they appear to
belong to almost another epoch than ours. To recover the social and
political atmosphere, to reconstruct the conditions, to appreciate the
motives by which people were actuated in those days seem well nigh
impossible. Yet that is what we must do if we are to have any conception
of what those closing years were to Keir Hardie. We must see the world
as it appeared to him in those days. How many of us, for example, can
recollect or revisualise what was happening in 1912, much less recall
what we were thinking about at that time.
In 1912, it will be
remembered, occurred the great national miners’ strike, which resulted
in legalising, for the first time, the principle of a minimum wage for
miners. 1912 was the year of the bitterly fought London dock strike, in
which the workers were defeated, humiliated and actually starved into
submission, with Mr. Tillett, the dockers’ leader, praying theatrically
on Tower Hill that God might strike Lord Devonport dead; the same Lord
Devonport with whom, and with whose class, Mr. Tillett was in
enthusiastic accord only two years later. 1912 was the year in which Tom
Mann, Fred Crowley and Guy Bowman were imprisoned for advising soldiers
not to shoot their fellow-workers on strike, little thinking how near
was the time when workers would be shooting workers on a scale
unimaginable to those courageous protesters against working-class
fratricide. 1912 was the year when there were hundreds of women in
prison, hunger-striking and enduring the tortures of forcible feeding
and unable, of course, to foresee how soon political right, withheld
from them when claimed on grounds of justice, would be thrown to them as
a bribe, or as a reward for war service—the very kind of service for
which they were said to be unfit. 1912 was the year of the Irish Home
Rule Act which never became operative. It was also the year in which
Cabinet Ministers encouraged, and to some extent organised, rebellion in
the North of Ireland, and when Mr. Bonar Law declared, blind to the
possibility that South of Ireland rebels would hearken to those brave
words and act upon them, “I can imagine no length of resistance to which
Ulster will go which I shall not be ready to support.” It was thus the
memorable year when the leaders of the Unionist Party declared, and
carried their Party with them in making their declaration, that a class
which finds itself outvoted in Parliament may resort to arms and
revolution to undo what was done through the ballot box. This was the
year of the Unemployment Insurance Bill giving legislative recognition
to the State’s liability for the condition of the people. 1912 was the
year in which the I.L.P. and-the Fabians joined forces in a great “War
against Poverty” campaign demanding the establishment of a minimum
standard of life, and submitting proposals for the achievement of that
purpose.
We have only to mention
these movements and events to understand what would be the attitude of
Keir Hardie towards each and all of them. His principles were fixed, his
record was open. By his past conduct you could always tell what his
present or future conduct would be in any given set of circumstances. In
much that was happening in the industrial world he could see the outcome
of his own past labours. The national strike of miners : what was it but
the outward and visible sign of that unity in the .coal industry which
he had advocated as far back as 1886 when he became the first Secretary
of the Scottish Miners’ Federation? The Insurance Bill: what was it but
one of the fruits of his long years of agitation in and out of
Parliament on behalf of the unemployed ? It was not what he wanted. It
was not the “right to work.” He described it as a slipshod measure and
sarcastically commented that its beneficiaries would still have plenty
of opportunity for the cultivation of habits of thrift; but makeshift
though it was, it was better than nothing. In essence, its second part
was an admission of the workless man’s right to live, and it would not
have been there but for Keir Hardie.
For British Socialists
the time was one of high hopes, alternating with almost paralysing
fears. The hopes lay in the evidences of the growing solidarity of
organised labour; the fears had their source in the ever-present danger
of an outbreak of war in Europe which would overwhelm all plans for
human betterment. In Hardie’s mind, on the whole, the hopes overbalanced
the fears. In the case of the Morocco crisis, war had been arrested. It
might be so again and again until the sheer stupidity of having recourse
to such a method of settling disputes would become universally
recognised and the means of preventing it by international action would
be strengthened. He was naturally an optimist and fain to persuade
himself that the power of international Socialism and the common sense
of humanity would be stronger than the Imperialist and capitalist forces
making for war, It was well for him at this time to be able to cherish,
even doubtfully, such a faith. Otherwise he would have had little zest
in life during these remaining years. Unlike some other Socialists, he
could find no compensating comfort in the theory that a European war,
with all its evils, would at least precipitate revolution. For him, the
possible fruits of a revolution were not worth the terrible price that
would have to be paid for them. He had always believed, and still
believed, that Socialism could be ushered in without violent and bloody
revolution. That was why he was in Parliament. That was why he favoured
the general strike. That was why he strove to destroy the militarist
idea in association with the Socialist movement and opposed resolutely
all “citizen army” proposals. For him, a war-engendered revolution was
no gateway to any promised land. Though he knew well what kind of war
the Great War would be, if it came, he refused to admit that it was
inevitable, and in this frame of mind he went on with his work.
This year, much to the
satisfaction of Hardie and his South Wales supporters, the I.L.P. Annual
Conference was held at Merthyr, the object being to mark the general
movement’s appreciation of the stalwarts who, in the darkest hour of the
Independent Labour Party had sent its leader to Parliament and had
steadfastly stood by him ever since. The chief subject of debate at the
Conference was Parliamentary policy, involving the vexed question which
had troubled the movement ever since the formation of the Parliamentary
Labour Party, as to whether that Party, and especially the I.L.P.
members of it, should vote on every question on its merits, ox should be
guided by the general political exigencies which the Party had to face
from time to time. The latter policy was endorsed by the Conference,
Hardie speaking in support of it; but as a matter of fact, on this
occasion the Conference itself was a secondary function, compared with
the public manifestations of Socialist feeling in the constituency and
personal attachment to Hardie. The local comrades were proud of their
Member, and he was proud of them. Francis, Davies, Morris, Barr,
Stonelake, and all the others who had done the spade-work and the
fighting, took pride— as they were well entitled to do—in their, past
achievements, and were full of confidence for the future. He would have
taken great risks who would have suggested that anything could ever
happen to dim the popularity of their hero in Merthyr Tydvil. To their
credit and honour these men all stood firm when the hour of trial came.
They came through the fire like fine gold. At that moment such a trial
seemed so far off as to be impossible. Yet it was near at hand.
During the parliamentary
session he took his full share of the work, and with George Lansbury was
specially active in protesting against the vindictive treatment of the
suffragist women in prison, whilst as usual he was also very much in
evidence on the propaganda platform, and in various ways showed himself
to be full of life, and vigour. In the early autumn, preparatory to
going to America for an eight weeks’ tour in support of Eugene Debs’s
candidature for the _ Presidency, he spent a short holiday in Arran with
his wife and daughter.
A rhyming note which he
sent from there in reply to some birthday congratulation in verse
reveals him as being in good health and spirits.
“Dear Comrade, if you
flatter so,
You’ll make an old man vaunty :
I’m six and fifty years, ’tis true,
And much have had to daunt me.
“But what of that? My life’s been blest,
With health and faith abiding-;
I’ve never sought the rich man’s smile,
I’ve never shirked a hiding.
“I’ve tried to do my duty to
My conscience and my neighbour,
Regardless of the gain or loss
Involved in the endeavour.
“A happy home, a laving wife,
An I.L.P. fu’ healthy;
I wadna’ swap my lot in life
Wi’ any o’ the wealthy.”
“—Keir. Arran, Aug. 15th,
1912.”
Mere holiday jingle, of
course, and meant only for Tom Mackley of Woolwich, who had sent the
birthday epistle, but indicating that the agitator “off the chain” was
enjoying himself.
The American tour, like
Debs’s candidature itself, was simply Socialist propaganda. He addressed
forty-four meetings^ including four in Canada. He was well received
everywhere, and well reported by the American press. The enthusiasm
which he aroused in such places as Chicago, Pittsburg and Indianapolis
must be taken as a tribute to his personality, for he was no platform
“spell-binder” such as American audiences are said to be fond of. He had
never aspired to the reputation of being an orator. At Chicago he
reminded his audience of this. “Those who know me best are aware that I
am never much of an orator. If I have any reputation at all it is not
that of a talker, but it is rather this : that during the thirty odd
years that I have been out in the open for the class to which I belong,
whether in Parliament or out of Parliament, I have stood by that class
through good report and ill.”
A good deal depends on
what is meant by oratory.
Hardie could not play
upon the emotions of an audience by means of voice modulations and
inflections and dramatic gestures, but he could, nevertheless, sometimes
set the heart of his hearers beating in perfect tune with that of his
own. He was guided by no rules of elocution except that which enjoins
clear enunciation. His sentences nearly always ended on a rising note,
which in an insincere speaker would have sounded like querulousness, but
from his had the effect of intense earnestness. When closing a speech on
a note of passionate appeal the last word of the last sentence would
ring out like the sound of a trumpet, and call his auditors
involuntarily to their feet; they knew not why except that they had to
get up and cheer. For lucidity in definition and explanation of
principles in oral speech he was unrivalled. He was never obscure. You
always knew what he meant. Take, for example, the following reference to
the State in this same Chicago speech : “The syndicalist starts from the
assumption that the State is a capitalist institution. The State,
however, is nothing of the sort. At the present time every State in the
world, and every kingdom in the world, is capitalist. Why is that so?
Because the workers elect the capitalist class to govern the State. The
State itself is neither capitalist nor anti-capitalist. The State is
simply a good old donkey that goes the way its driver wants it to go.
When the capitalists rule, of course, the State serves the capitalists.
When the workers get sense enough to stop sending capitalists, and send
Socialists drawn from their own ranks, to represent them, then the State
becomes your servant and not the servant of the capitalists.”
He sent home, as was his
custom, a series of articles descriptive of industrial and social
conditions in America, very valuable at the time, but not so interesting
for us now as the accounts of his meetings with old friends from the
home country. At every stage of his journeyings they seemed to have
gathered round him. His tour took him through many of the coal-mining
districts, and we hear of social evenings with comrades of his youth
now, like himself, growing grey, but fain to shake hands and be merry
with him for auld lang syne. We hear of “Hardie singing ‘Bonnie Mary o’
Argyle* and ‘Robin Tamson’s Smiddy/” and of “big Bob Macbeth in ‘The
Battle of Stirling Brig!” and of “Barney Reilly dancing an Irish jig
with as clean and light a step as he did thirty years ago in the
‘Quarter.’”
This was Keir Hardie as
the party politicians and press interviewers never knew him, but as he
was known in hundreds of I.L.P. households throughout Great Britain and
also to the delegates at I.L.P. conferences in the social hours when the
day’s work was done and the controversies forgotten. On such occasion,
to look upon Keir Hardie and Bruce Glasier letting themselves go in a
foursome reel was, as the Scotch phrase has it, “a sicht for sair een.”
This, his last American trip, seems to have given him very great
pleasure, a fact the knowledge of which has a measure of consolation for
some of us who know what time and fate had in store for him.
Hardly had he arrived
home when the Party was called upon to face the troubles for
international Socialism created by the war in the Balkans. A special
international Congress had been summoned to meet at Basle. The separate
Balkan States had united against Turkey, and there was very great danger
that the war would not be confined to the Near East and that the much
dreaded European conflagration would break out. So imminent was this
possibility that the International Socialist Bureau had already
cancelled the arrangements for the 1913 Congress due to take place in
Vienna. The contiguity of Austria to the theatre of war, and the
ambitions of its rulers and diplomats and its interests in the balance
of power in the Balkans, made it seem certain that, if the struggle were
prolonged, Austria would speedily be involved and would drag the others
in also. Europe was again on the edge of the precipice. So, when the
Congress hacf to be postponed till 1914, it was decided to call
immediately an emergency Congress in Switzerland. We know what happened
in 1914, and why it came about that this at Basle was the very last
Congress before the break-up of the International. It should be noted
that the British members of the International Socialist Bureau were
strongly opposed to the postponement of the 1913 Congress and were alone
in this opposition. Who can tell but that if it had met, it might have
been able to radiate sufficient moral force to prevent the calamity of
the following year? To be wise after the event is, of course, easy, and
these postwar conjectures may seem futile; yet it is natural for us to
regret what seems a lost opportunity for a last great effort for the
prevention of the world-war.
At the Basle Congress,
twenty-three countries were represented by five hundred and fifty-five
delegates, Great Britain sending thirteen. By the time the Congress met,
the Balkan States had effectually defeated Turkey and an armistice had
been declared with the Balkan League holding the mastery of the
situation. This had not lessened the danger of war in Central Europe.
Not only was there the likelihood that in the settlement the Great
Powers would intervene and come into collision with each other, but
there was also the danger, which realised itself only too speedily, that
the victorious Balkan States would turn and rend each other. The actors
on the Balkan stage were too much puppets controlled by the rival Powers
who plotted, bribed and egged on from behind the scenes.
The Basle Congress was a
magnificently impressive International Socialist demonstration against
war; but that was all it could be. It drafted and issued a manifesto to
the Socialists of all the countries represented, defining what measures
they might take for the preservation of peace. This manifesto, the last
issued by any authoritative International Congress, might well be
republished. It sets forth in vivid detail the conditions and
international relationships out of which the .Great War eventuated,
conditions and relationships which, if re-established, whatever the
grouping of the different interests may be, must produce the same evil
results.
There was deep
seriousness at this Congress, and, at the great peace demonstration in
the Cathedral, high and noble utterances by Bebelt Jaures, Adler, Hardie
and other international representative men. It was an historic Congress,
in a sense of which none who participated could have any knowledge. None
of them could know that this was the last. Nor could Bebel and Hardie
know that this was their final meeting. But so it was, Bebel, now in his
seventy-third year, had only a few more months of life, and happily did
not see his beloved German Social Democratic Party first voting war
credits and then torn to pieces. Hardie looked almost as venerable as
Bebel, but had greater vigour. Basle wound up an old generation, ended
an old chapter, was the close of many hopes.
The Rev. James Wallace of
Glasgow, who was one of the British delegates, has preserved for us a
very pleasant glimpse of Hardie in the streets of Basle. “After the
excitement of the public meeting,” says Mr. Wallace, “I accompanied the
tribune of the people on a tour to see the ‘uncos’ of Basle, and, as in
Bunyan’s ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ Hopeful had to fall back on Christian to
translate the writing on a pillar ‘for he was learned,’ so I proved of
service to Keir Hardie in the case of French or German sentences and
specially by enabling him with some ease to make a purchase of a
keepsake for Mrs. Hardie in a small jeweller’s shop. Blessing on the
honest Swiss saleswoman whose shop seemed so fragrant with honesty that
we both felt completely at home, and the desire for gain or profit was
simply nowhere with her compared with the full play of human kindliness
and good feeling. Whether she recollects the two Scotsmen or no, I
cannot tell, but to the two Scotsmen her shop with its fragrant honesty
was a green spot in our memory. As we passed along the pavements we
admired the noble street architecture of the old city, but Keir Hardie
was also much interested in all the different kinds of dogs, large or
small, that crossed our paths. The most contemptible ‘tykes’ attracted
the great man’s notice. During the whole course of our peregrinations
working men broke into smiles at the sight of Keir Hardie, and kept him
very busy pulling off his cap in reply to their salutations, while an
Egyptian, with a profile exactly reproducing the features of his
ancestors on the monuments of Luxor four thousand years ago, approached
us with all eagerness to complain of the high-handed acts of British
officials in the land of the Pharaohs. Keir Hardie listened to him very
sympathetically and offered to air his complaint in Parliament; but so
far as I could judge there was a want of definiteness about his
statements, as if they were rather the expression of a general
restiveness of his country under the regime of Britain, and might even
be fomented by German intrigue. Very naturally our footsteps gravitated
towards the Art Gallery of Basle. ‘There’s Jaurks,’ said Keir Hardie,
and went forward to shake the great Frenchman’s hand. A man more unlike
the typical Frenchman as depicted in our comic papers it would be
impossible to find. Indeed, take a shrewd farmer from the Ayr or Lanark
market, and there you have a Jaures. It was the last meeting of these
two great men on earth. What sphere have they now for the exercise of
their beautiful energies? ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made oL’ ”
Mr. Wallace was wrong. Hardie and Jaures were to meet again before the
end.
And so the year 1912 drew
towards its close, with the war-clouds hanging dark and threatening over
the nations, and the minds of all Socialists full of foreboding. “The
moment is critical/’ wrote Hardie, “and European war will almost
certainly lead to European revolution, the end of which no man can
foresee”; yet was he still an optimist. “It was a great gathering/’ he
summed up, speaking of the Basle Congress, “and full of significance for
the future of our race. For those gathered there represented not so many
nationalities, but the disinherited of all lands. These have now no
country : they are the mob, the proletariat, the oppressed. These are
the ties that bind them. The International is uniting them in their
fight against bondage.” He was great of heart, and he needed to be. |