BOURGEOIS AND PROLETARIANS

The history of all hitherto existing societies is the history of classrnstruggles.rnrnFreeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-masterrnand journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constantrnopposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, nowrnopen fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionaryrnre-constitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of therncontending classes.rnrnIn the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere arncomplicated arrangement of society into various orders, a manifoldrngradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights,rnplebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals,rnguild-masters, journeymen, apprentices, serfs; in almost all of thesernclasses, again, subordinate gradations.rnrnThe modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudalrnsociety has not done away with class antagonisms. It has butrnestablished new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms ofrnstruggle in place of the old ones. Our epoch, the epoch of thernbourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinctive feature: it hasrnsimplified the class antagonisms. Society as a whole is more and morernsplitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes,rndirectly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.rnrnFrom the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered burghers of thernearliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of thernbourgeoisie were developed.rnrnThe discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up freshrnground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets,rnthe colonisation of America, trade with the colonies, the increase inrnthe means of exchange and in commodities generally, gave to commerce,rnto navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby,rnto the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society, a rapidrndevelopment.rnrnThe feudal system of industry, under which industrial production wasrnmonopolised by closed guilds, now no longer sufficed for the growingrnwants of the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. Thernguild-masters were pushed on one side by the manufacturing middlernclass; division of labour between the different corporate guildsrnvanished in the face of division of labour in each single workshop.rnrnMeantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Evenrnmanufacture no longer sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machineryrnrevolutionised industrial production. The place of manufacture wasrntaken by the giant, Modern Industry, the place of the industrial middlernclass, by industrial millionaires, the leaders of whole industrialrnarmies, the modern bourgeois.rnrnModern industry has established the world-market, for which therndiscovery of America paved the way. This market has given an immenserndevelopment to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land. Thisrndevelopment has, in its time, reacted on the extension of industry; andrnin proportion as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, inrnthe same proportion the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital,rnand pushed into the background every class handed down from the MiddlernAges.rnrnWe see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie is itself the product ofrna long course of development, of a series of revolutions in the modesrnof production and of exchange.rnrnEach step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by arncorresponding political advance of that class. An oppressed class underrnthe sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governingrnassociation in the mediaeval commune; here independent urban republicrn(as in Italy and Germany), there taxable “third estate” of the monarchyrn(as in France), afterwards, in the period of manufacture proper,rnserving either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as arncounterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, corner-stone of therngreat monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since thernestablishment of Modern Industry and of the world-market, conquered forrnitself, in the modern representative State, exclusive political sway.rnThe executive of the modern State is but a committee for managing therncommon affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.rnrnThe bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part.rnrnThe bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end tornall feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly tornrnasunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “naturalrnsuperiors,” and has left remaining no other nexus between man and manrnthan naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment.” It has drownedrnthe most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrousrnenthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water ofrnegotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchangernvalue, and in place of the numberless and indefeasible charteredrnfreedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom—Free Trade. Inrnone word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and politicalrnillusions, naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.rnrnThe bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hithertornhonoured and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted thernphysician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, intornits paid wage labourers.rnrnThe bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, andrnhas reduced the family relation to a mere money relation.rnrnThe bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutalrndisplay of vigour in the Middle Ages, which Reactionists so muchrnadmire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. Itrnhas been the first to show what man’s activity can bring about. It hasrnaccomplished wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts,rnand Gothic cathedrals; it has conducted expeditions that put in thernshade all former Exoduses of nations and crusades.rnrnThe bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionising therninstruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, andrnwith them the whole relations of society. Conservation of the old modesrnof production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary, the firstrncondition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constantrnrevolutionising of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all socialrnconditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish thernbourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozenrnrelations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices andrnopinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated beforernthey can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy isrnprofaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses, hisrnreal conditions of life, and his relations with his kind.rnrnThe need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases thernbourgeoisie over the whole surface of the globe. It must nestlerneverywhere, settle everywhere, establish connexions everywhere.rnrnThe bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of the world-market givenrna cosmopolitan character to production and consumption in everyrncountry. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has drawn from underrnthe feet of industry the national ground on which it stood. Allrnold-established national industries have been destroyed or are dailyrnbeing destroyed. They are dislodged by new industries, whosernintroduction becomes a life and death question for all civilisedrnnations, by industries that no longer work up indigenous raw material,rnbut raw material drawn from the remotest zones; industries whosernproducts are consumed, not only at home, but in every quarter of thernglobe. In place of the old wants, satisfied by the productions of therncountry, we find new wants, requiring for their satisfaction thernproducts of distant lands and climes. In place of the old local andrnnational seclusion and self-sufficiency, we have intercourse in everyrndirection, universal inter-dependence of nations. And as in material,rnso also in intellectual production. The intellectual creations ofrnindividual nations become common property. National one-sidedness andrnnarrow-mindedness become more and more impossible, and from thernnumerous national and local literatures, there arises a worldrnliterature.rnrnThe bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments ofrnproduction, by the immensely facilitated means of communication, drawsrnall, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation. The cheaprnprices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with which it battersrndown all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians’ intenselyrnobstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations,rnon pain of extinction, to adopt the bourgeois mode of production; itrncompels them to introduce what it calls civilisation into their midst,rn_i.e_., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it creates a worldrnafter its own image.rnrnThe bourgeoisie has subjected the country to the rule of the towns. Itrnhas created enormous cities, has greatly increased the urban populationrnas compared with the rural, and has thus rescued a considerable part ofrnthe population from the idiocy of rural life. Just as it has made therncountry dependent on the towns, so it has made barbarian andrnsemi-barbarian countries dependent on the civilised ones, nations ofrnpeasants on nations of bourgeois, the East on the West.rnrnThe bourgeoisie keeps more and more doing away with the scattered staternof the population, of the means of production, and of property. It hasrnagglomerated production, and has concentrated property in a few hands.rnThe necessary consequence of this was political centralisation.rnIndependent, or but loosely connected provinces, with separaterninterests, laws, governments and systems of taxation, became lumpedrntogether into one nation, with one government, one code of laws, onernnational class-interest, one frontier and one customs-tariff. Thernbourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years, has createdrnmore massive and more colossal productive forces than have allrnpreceding generations together. Subjection of Nature’s forces to man,rnmachinery, application of chemistry to industry and agriculture,rnsteam-navigation, railways, electric telegraphs, clearing of wholerncontinents for cultivation, canalisation of rivers, whole populationsrnconjured out of the ground—what earlier century had even a presentimentrnthat such productive forces slumbered in the lap of social labour?rnrnWe see then: the means of production and of exchange, on whosernfoundation the bourgeoisie built itself up, were generated in feudalrnsociety. At a certain stage in the development of these means ofrnproduction and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal societyrnproduced and exchanged, the feudal organisation of agriculture andrnmanufacturing industry, in one word, the feudal relations of propertyrnbecame no longer compatible with the already developed productivernforces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; theyrnwere burst asunder.rnrnInto their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a social andrnpolitical constitution adapted to it, and by the economical andrnpolitical sway of the bourgeois class.rnrnA similar movement is going on before our own eyes. Modern bourgeoisrnsociety with its relations of production, of exchange and of property,rna society that has conjured up such gigantic means of production and ofrnexchange, is like the sorcerer, who is no longer able to control thernpowers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells. Forrnmany a decade past the history of industry and commerce is but thernhistory of the revolt of modern productive forces against modernrnconditions of production, against the property relations that are thernconditions for the existence of the bourgeoisie and of its rule. It isrnenough to mention the commercial crises that by their periodical returnrnput on its trial, each time more threateningly, the existence of thernentire bourgeois society. In these crises a great part not only of thernexisting products, but also of the previously created productivernforces, are periodically destroyed. In these crises there breaks out anrnepidemic that, in all earlier epochs, would have seemed anrnabsurdity—the epidemic of over-production. Society suddenly findsrnitself put back into a state of momentary barbarism; it appears as if arnfamine, a universal war of devastation had cut off the supply of everyrnmeans of subsistence; industry and commerce seem to be destroyed; andrnwhy? Because there is too much civilisation, too much means ofrnsubsistence, too much industry, too much commerce. The productivernforces at the disposal of society no longer tend to further therndevelopment of the conditions of bourgeois property; on the contrary,rnthey have become too powerful for these conditions, by which they arernfettered, and so soon as they overcome these fetters, they bringrndisorder into the whole of bourgeois society, endanger the existence ofrnbourgeois property. The conditions of bourgeois society are too narrowrnto comprise the wealth created by them. And how does the bourgeoisiernget over these crises? On the one hand inforced destruction of a massrnof productive forces; on the other, by the conquest of new markets, andrnby the more thorough exploitation of the old ones. That is to say, byrnpaving the way for more extensive and more destructive crises, and byrndiminishing the means whereby crises are prevented.rnrnThe weapons with which the bourgeoisie felled feudalism to the groundrnare now turned against the bourgeoisie itself.rnrnBut not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death tornitself; it has also called into existence the men who are to wieldrnthose weapons—the modern working class—the proletarians.rnrnIn proportion as the bourgeoisie, _i.e_., capital, is developed, in thernsame proportion is the proletariat, the modern working class,rndeveloped—a class of labourers, who live only so long as they findrnwork, and who find work only so long as their labour increases capital.rnThese labourers, who must sell themselves piece-meal, are a commodity,rnlike every other article of commerce, and are consequently exposed tornall the vicissitudes of competition, to all the fluctuations of thernmarket.rnrnOwing to the extensive use of machinery and to division of labour, thernwork of the proletarians has lost all individual character, andrnconsequently, all charm for the workman. He becomes an appendage of thernmachine, and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and mostrneasily acquired knack, that is required of him. Hence, the cost ofrnproduction of a workman is restricted, almost entirely, to the means ofrnsubsistence that he requires for his maintenance, and for thernpropagation of his race. But the price of a commodity, and thereforernalso of labour, is equal to its cost of production. In proportionrntherefore, as the repulsiveness of the work increases, the wagerndecreases. Nay more, in proportion as the use of machinery and divisionrnof labour increases, in the same proportion the burden of toil alsornincreases, whether by prolongation of the working hours, by increase ofrnthe work exacted in a given time or by increased speed of thernmachinery, etc.rnrnModern industry has converted the little workshop of the patriarchalrnmaster into the great factory of the industrial capitalist. Masses ofrnlabourers, crowded into the factory, are organised like soldiers. Asrnprivates of the industrial army they are placed under the command of arnperfect hierarchy of officers and sergeants. Not only are they slavesrnof the bourgeois class, and of the bourgeois State; they are daily andrnhourly enslaved by the machine, by the over-looker, and, above all, byrnthe individual bourgeois manufacturer himself. The more openly thisrndespotism proclaims gain to be its end and aim, the more petty, thernmore hateful and the more embittering it is.rnrnThe less the skill and exertion of strength implied in manual labour,rnin other words, the more modern industry becomes developed, the more isrnthe labour of men superseded by that of women. Differences of age andrnsex have no longer any distinctive social validity for the workingrnclass. All are instruments of labour, more or less expensive to use,rnaccording to their age and sex.rnrnNo sooner is the exploitation of the labourer by the manufacturer, sornfar at an end, that he receives his wages in cash, than he is set uponrnby the other portions of the bourgeoisie, the landlord, the shopkeeper,rnthe pawnbroker, etc.rnrnThe lower strata of the middle class—the small tradespeople,rnshopkeepers, retired tradesmen generally, the handicraftsmen andrnpeasants—all these sink gradually into the proletariat, partly becauserntheir diminutive capital does not suffice for the scale on which ModernrnIndustry is carried on, and is swamped in the competition with thernlarge capitalists, partly because their specialized skill is renderedrnworthless by the new methods of production. Thus the proletariat isrnrecruited from all classes of the population.rnrnThe proletariat goes through various stages of development. With itsrnbirth begins its struggle with the bourgeoisie. At first the contest isrncarried on by individual labourers, then by the workpeople of arnfactory, then by the operatives of one trade, in one locality, againstrnthe individual bourgeois who directly exploits them. They direct theirrnattacks not against the bourgeois conditions of production, but againstrnthe instruments of production themselves; they destroy imported waresrnthat compete with their labour, they smash to pieces machinery, theyrnset factories ablaze, they seek to restore by force the vanished statusrnof the workman of the Middle Ages.rnrnAt this stage the labourers still form an incoherent mass scatteredrnover the whole country, and broken up by their mutual competition. Ifrnanywhere they unite to form more compact bodies, this is not yet thernconsequence of their own active union, but of the union of thernbourgeoisie, which class, in order to attain its own political ends, isrncompelled to set the whole proletariat in motion, and is moreover yet,rnfor a time, able to do so. At this stage, therefore, the proletariansrndo not fight their enemies, but the enemies of their enemies, thernremnants of absolute monarchy, the landowners, the non-industrialrnbourgeois, the petty bourgeoisie. Thus the whole historical movement isrnconcentrated in the hands of the bourgeoisie; every victory so obtainedrnis a victory for the bourgeoisie.rnrnBut with the development of industry the proletariat not only increasesrnin number; it becomes concentrated in greater masses, its strengthrngrows, and it feels that strength more. The various interests andrnconditions of life within the ranks of the proletariat are more andrnmore equalised, in proportion as machinery obliterates all distinctionsrnof labour, and nearly everywhere reduces wages to the same low level.rnThe growing competition among the bourgeois, and the resultingrncommercial crises, make the wages of the workers ever more fluctuating.rnThe unceasing improvement of machinery, ever more rapidly developing,rnmakes their livelihood more and more precarious; the collisions betweenrnindividual workmen and individual bourgeois take more and more therncharacter of collisions between two classes. Thereupon the workersrnbegin to form combinations (Trades Unions) against the bourgeois; theyrnclub together in order to keep up the rate of wages; they foundrnpermanent associations in order to make provision beforehand for thesernoccasional revolts. Here and there the contest breaks out into riots.rnrnNow and then the workers are victorious, but only for a time. The realrnfruit of their battles lies, not in the immediate result, but in thernever-expanding union of the workers. This union is helped on by thernimproved means of communication that are created by modern industry andrnthat place the workers of different localities in contact with onernanother. It was just this contact that was needed to centralise thernnumerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one nationalrnstruggle between classes. But every class struggle is a politicalrnstruggle. And that union, to attain which the burghers of the MiddlernAges, with their miserable highways, required centuries, the modernrnproletarians, thanks to railways, achieve in a few years.rnrnThis organisation of the proletarians into a class, and consequentlyrninto a political party, is continually being upset again by therncompetition between the workers themselves. But it ever rises up again,rnstronger, firmer, mightier. It compels legislative recognition ofrnparticular interests of the workers, by taking advantage of therndivisions among the bourgeoisie itself. Thus the ten-hours’ bill inrnEngland was carried.rnrnAltogether collisions between the classes of the old society further,rnin many ways, the course of development of the proletariat. Thernbourgeoisie finds itself involved in a constant battle. At first withrnthe aristocracy; later on, with those portions of the bourgeoisiernitself, whose interests have become antagonistic to the progress ofrnindustry; at all times, with the bourgeoisie of foreign countries. Inrnall these battles it sees itself compelled to appeal to thernproletariat, to ask for its help, and thus, to drag it into thernpolitical arena. The bourgeoisie itself, therefore, supplies thernproletariat with its own instruments of political and generalrneducation, in other words, it furnishes the proletariat with weaponsrnfor fighting the bourgeoisie.rnrnFurther, as we have already seen, entire sections of the ruling classesrnare, by the advance of industry, precipitated into the proletariat, orrnare at least threatened in their conditions of existence. These alsornsupply the proletariat with fresh elements of enlightenment andrnprogress.rnrnFinally, in times when the class struggle nears the decisive hour, thernprocess of dissolution going on within the ruling class, in fact withinrnthe whole range of society, assumes such a violent, glaring character,rnthat a small section of the ruling class cuts itself adrift, and joinsrnthe revolutionary class, the class that holds the future in its hands.rnJust as, therefore, at an earlier period, a section of the nobilityrnwent over to the bourgeoisie, so now a portion of the bourgeoisie goesrnover to the proletariat, and in particular, a portion of the bourgeoisrnideologists, who have raised themselves to the level of comprehendingrntheoretically the historical movement as a whole.rnrnOf all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie today,rnthe proletariat alone is a really revolutionary class. The otherrnclasses decay and finally disappear in the face of Modern Industry; thernproletariat is its special and essential product. The lower middlernclass, the small manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, thernpeasant, all these fight against the bourgeoisie, to save fromrnextinction their existence as fractions of the middle class. They arerntherefore not revolutionary, but conservative. Nay more, they arernreactionary, for they try to roll back the wheel of history. If byrnchance they are revolutionary, they are so only in view of theirrnimpending transfer into the proletariat, they thus defend not theirrnpresent, but their future interests, they desert their own standpointrnto place themselves at that of the proletariat.rnrnThe “dangerous class,” the social scum, that passively rotting massrnthrown off by the lowest layers of old society, may, here and there, bernswept into the movement by a proletarian revolution; its conditions ofrnlife, however, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed tool ofrnreactionary intrigue.rnrnIn the conditions of the proletariat, those of old society at large arernalready virtually swamped. The proletarian is without property; hisrnrelation to his wife and children has no longer anything in common withrnthe bourgeois family-relations; modern industrial labour, modernrnsubjection to capital, the same in England as in France, in America asrnin Germany, has stripped him of every trace of national character. Law,rnmorality, religion, are to him so many bourgeois prejudices, behindrnwhich lurk in ambush just as many bourgeois interests.rnrnAll the preceding classes that got the upper hand, sought to fortifyrntheir already acquired status by subjecting society at large to theirrnconditions of appropriation. The proletarians cannot become masters ofrnthe productive forces of society, except by abolishing their ownrnprevious mode of appropriation, and thereby also every other previousrnmode of appropriation. They have nothing of their own to secure and tornfortify; their mission is to destroy all previous securities for, andrninsurances of, individual property.rnrnAll previous historical movements were movements of minorities, or inrnthe interests of minorities. The proletarian movement is thernself-conscious, independent movement of the immense majority, in therninterests of the immense majority. The proletariat, the lowest stratumrnof our present society, cannot stir, cannot raise itself up, withoutrnthe whole superincumbent strata of official society being sprung intornthe air.rnrnThough not in substance, yet in form, the struggle of the proletariatrnwith the bourgeoisie is at first a national struggle. The proletariatrnof each country must, of course, first of all settle matters with itsrnown bourgeoisie.rnrnIn depicting the most general phases of the development of thernproletariat, we traced the more or less veiled civil war, raging withinrnexisting society, up to the point where that war breaks out into openrnrevolution, and where the violent overthrow of the bourgeoisie lays thernfoundation for the sway of the proletariat.rnrnHitherto, every form of society has been based, as we have alreadyrnseen, on the antagonism of oppressing and oppressed classes. But inrnorder to oppress a class, certain conditions must be assured to itrnunder which it can, at least, continue its slavish existence. The serf,rnin the period of serfdom, raised himself to membership in the commune,rnjust as the petty bourgeois, under the yoke of feudal absolutism,rnmanaged to develop into a bourgeois. The modern laborer, on therncontrary, instead of rising with the progress of industry, sinks deeperrnand deeper below the conditions of existence of his own class. Hernbecomes a pauper, and pauperism develops more rapidly than populationrnand wealth. And here it becomes evident, that the bourgeoisie is unfitrnany longer to be the ruling class in society, and to impose itsrnconditions of existence upon society as an over-riding law. It is unfitrnto rule because it is incompetent to assure an existence to its slavernwithin his slavery, because it cannot help letting him sink into such arnstate, that it has to feed him, instead of being fed by him. Societyrncan no longer live under this bourgeoisie, in other words, itsrnexistence is no longer compatible with society.rnrnThe essential condition for the existence, and for the sway of thernbourgeois class, is the formation and augmentation of capital; therncondition for capital is wage-labour. Wage-labour rests exclusively onrncompetition between the laborers. The advance of industry, whoserninvoluntary promoter is the bourgeoisie, replaces the isolation of thernlabourers, due to competition, by their revolutionary combination, duernto association. The development of Modern Industry, therefore, cutsrnfrom under its feet the very foundation on which the bourgeoisiernproduces and appropriates products. What the bourgeoisie, therefore,rnproduces, above all, is its own grave-diggers. Its fall and the victoryrnof the proletariat are equally inevitable.