On The
100th Anniversary Of Newly-Fledged German Communist Leader Rosa
Luxemburg And Karl Liebknecht-Oh, What Might Have Been-
By Frank Jackman
History in the conditional, what might have happened if this or that thing, event, person had swerved this much or that, is always a tricky proposition. Tricky as reflected in this piece’s commemorative headline. Rosa Luxemburg the acknowledged theoretical wizard of the German Social-Democratic Party, the numero uno party of the Second, Socialist International, which was the logical organization to initiate the socialist revolution before World War II and Karl Liebknecht, the hellfire and brimstone propagandist and public speaker of that same party were assassinated in separate locale on the orders of the then ruling self-same Social-Democratic Party. The chasm between the Social-Democratic leaders trying to save Germany for “Western Civilization” in the wake of the “uncivilized” socialist revolution in Russia in 1917 had grown that wide that it was as if they were on two different planets, and maybe they were.
(By the way I am almost embarrassed to mention the term “socialist revolution” these days when people, especially young people, would be clueless as to what I was talking about or would think that this concept was so hopelessly old-fashioned that it would meet the same blank stares. Let me assure you that back in the day, yes, that back in the day, many a youth had that very term on the tips of their tongues. Could palpably feel it in the air. Hell, just ask your parents, or grandparents.)
Okay here is the conditional and maybe think about it before you dismiss the idea out of hand if only because the whole scheme is very much in the conditional. Rosa and Karl, among others made almost every mistake in the book before and during the Spartacist uprising in some of the main German cities in late 1918 after the German defeat in the war. Their biggest mistake before the uprising was sticking with the Social Democrats, as a left wing, when that party had turned at best reformist and eminently not a vehicle for the socialist revolution, or even a half-assed democratic “revolution” which is what they got with the overthrow of the Kaiser. They broke too late, and subsequently too late from a slightly more left-wing Independent Socialist Party which had split from the S-D when that party became the leading war party in Germany for all intents and purposes and the working class was raising its collective head and asking why.
The big mistake during the uprising was not taking enough protective cover, not keeping the leadership safe, keeping out of sight like Lenin had in Finland when things were dicey in 1917 Russia and fell easy prey to the Freikorps assassins. Here is the conditional, and as always it can be expanded to some nth degree if you let things get out of hand. What if, as in Russia, Rosa and Karl had broken from that rotten (for socialism) S-D organization and had a more firmly entrenched cadre with some experience in independent existence. What if the Spartacists had protected their acknowledged leaders better. There might have been a different trajectory for the aborted and failed German left-wing revolutionary opportunities over the next several years, there certainly would have been better leadership and perhaps, just perhaps the Nazi onslaught might have been stillborn, might have left Munich 1923 as their “heroic” and last moment.
Instead we have a still sad 100th anniversary of the assassination of two great international socialist fighters who headed to the danger not away always worthy of a nod and me left having to face those blank stares who are looking for way forward but might as well be on a different planet-from me.
EVERY JANUARY WE HONOR LENIN OF RUSSIA, ROSA LUXEMBURG OF POLAND, AND KARL LIEBKNECHT OF GERMANY AS THREE LEADERS OF THE INTERNATIONAL WORKING CLASS MOVEMENT.
Look at what is happening in Germany to-day and test, as best we may, these two confronting theories concerning the influence of great men upon history. As I write Germany is in the throes of revolution. The immensely powerful Hohenzollern monarchy has fallen, the brave, stubborn, modernwitted, money-bolstered aristocracy is shattered, and a proscribed poor man, Karl Liebknecht, is loudly acclaimed. Was it one man, a Foch, a Wilson, a Lenin or a Liebknecht that overturned this mighty structure, or was it the movement of a hundred million men and women, armed and unarmed, on the battle-field and in the factory, in France and England and Russia and Germany? What could Liebknecht alone have done with all his ringing eloquence and all his superb, I almost said, sublime heroism? Clearly we must rule Carlyle out of the controversy and agree with Liebknecht, the Socialist, that Liebknecht, the hero, had little to do with this vast subversion.
Yet, as Carlyle says, "One comfort is, that Great Men, taken up in any way, are profitable company. We cannot look, however imperfectly, upon any great man, without gaining something by him."
At this safe distance no one could be more "profitable company" than Karl Liebknecht as he stands up boldly against all that is powerful, respectable and formidable in Germany and challenges it at the utter risk of life and reputation. Such courage as his is almost inconceivable; for us poor conforming or at best feebly protesting little people it is quite impossible. To die among thousands, even to die alone, if you think you hear the plaudits of your nation or your class, is a thing many of us have learned to do, but to stand up against a vindictive irrational war spirit, such as ruled Germany, to stand up alone, to be contemned not only by your enemies but by those who called themselves your comrades and friends, to be met by polite derision and by actual threats of violence, to be called a madman, to be called a traitor, to be misunderstood and doubted; to be met in occasional moments of dejection even by doubts in your own mind, and still to hold your own bravely and with cool passion, day after day and day after day, in circumstances growing daily more difficult, and finally to go to prison gladly, triumphantly – that is courage surpassing the courage of the rest of us. It is easier to die even by torture than to persist in this opposition to forces physical and mental not only confronting but surrounding and even permeating us.
We have agreed with Liebknecht that great events are not the doings of great men but merely the large theater in which these great men play their little parts. And yet, does not the hero, subordinate as he is to the wider movement of the play, exert a somewhat stronger influence than many followers of Marx seem willing to admit? Masses of men are moved to vital historic decisions in part by economic motives, but these motives must first be converted into emotion, and the hero, however his own actions are motived, is one of the vital factors producing that emotion. We shall perhaps never know to what extent the present rising of the German people against their once invincible rulers was occasioned, though not caused, by their vision of Karl Liebknecht, standing there alone against all the judges, rulers, legislators and respectables of Germany, and even against his fellow socialists. The heroism of Liebknecht was at least a point and center of coalescence.
The course of events has vindicated Karl Liebknecht. But it might well have been otherwise. Had Germany won the war and established a clanging pax Germanica through the ruin of Europe, Liebknecht's heroism might never have been recognized. He might have rusted in prison and been released to obscurity and thereafter lived a futile life derided as a blind fanatic. The force of circumstances, the obscure action of the hundreds of millions, rescued Liebknecht and raised him to the highest pinnacle of heroism. It stamped upon our minds for all time the picture of this brave man standing alone surrounded by cruel, confidently smiling foes.
I said "alone." Yet this is not fair to a very small group of German minority socialists, who stood by Liebknecht and by whom Liebknecht stood. Among them were Rosa Luxemburg, Franz Mehring, Hugo Haase, George Ledebour, and others, to whom, were real heroism always decorated, would be given a higher order of "Pour le Mérite." But among all these Karl Liebknecht stands preëminent.
"And for all that mind you," concludes the French soldier Bertrand, in "Under Fire," "there is one figure that has risen above the war and will blaze with the beauty and strength of his courage."
Barbusse continues: "I listened leaning on a stick towards him, drinking in the voice that came in the twilight silence from the lips that so rarely spoke. He cried with a clear voice, 'Liebknecht.' "
From the earliest days of its organization, soon after the middle of the nineteenth century, the German Social Democracy had taken a stand against militarism. During the Franco-Prussian War, two of its chief representatives, Wilhelm Liebknecht (the father of Karl Liebknecht) and August Bebel, had refused to vote for the war budget. In 1912, during the Balkan crisis, the German Socialists had attended in force the great gathering of the International Socialist Conference at Basle, protesting in vigorous tones against the war, and many there were on that occasion who declared that even if danger of world war had not been entirely eliminated, the Social Democrats of Germany, the strongest of the International movement, were prepared to meet any emergency that might arise. In the Reichstag elections, these Social Democrats had cast four and a quarter millions of votes, while the labor unions, which in Germany worked hand and hand with the Social-Democratic Party, numbered no less than two and a half millions. The Socialist movement had the support of hundreds of newspapers, possessed a strong and well-disciplined organization and large financial resources, and was remarkably rich in political experience. In efficiency of organization it ranked second only to the Catholic Church.
It was true that the German Social Democrats as yet had gained little real influence on the international policy of the Empire, and despite their powerful organization and their influence, they were in a position before the war to use only moral pressure on the government. Yet to many it seemed extremely unlikely that the German government would dare instigate a world conflagration when opposed at home by this powerful "internal enemy."
The war came. Immediately after war's declaration, the Imperial Chancellor called a meeting of the Reichstag on August 5, 1914, for the purpose of approving the war budget. The day before this gathering was held, he called together the leaders of the various parties, so the story runs, among them the Social Democrats, and transmitted to them a confidential communication. He had from a reliable source, he declared, information that a secret understanding existed between the French and the Belgian governments whereby the latter government had agreed, in case of emergency, that it would give the French army passage through Belgium for the purpose of invading Germany. It was because of this agreement, the Chancellor declared, that the neutrality of Belgium had to be violated. In addition to this information, the Chancellor told the assembled legislators that the Russian army had invaded German soil and had even then overrun two of the Prussian provinces.
These statements produced the desired effect, convincing the majority of the Social Democratic leaders that their only course was to support the Kaiser and his government. The government knew how to fool them, knew what to use in order to get their support, and the Kaiser and his government were victorious.
Every cable message during those days that reached America from Germany emphasized the thought that there were no longer any parties in Germany, that the Social Democrats had decided to give up their agitation and work only for victory. To many radicals in America who had pinned their faith to the internationalism of the German Social Democracy, these reports seemed well-nigh unbelievable. The Socialist leaders must have been put in jail, some argued.
Then more news came to confirm the reports, and the papers came, Socialist papers, and Socialist papers even of Germany, and all contained the same unbelievable truth. Some said then, "Well, the Government has taken over their papers and that is how this news can be explained." But fact after fact came out which made even the most doubtful admit that the cables had been based on truth. The strong and great structure built by a generation lay prostrate on the ground.
In those days of disillusion, I remember well a conversation among a few of us concerning the plight of the Social Democracy. "The German government knew their Socialists well, and knew how best to reach them," declared one of our group. "There is one man in Germany, however, whom we shouldn't despair of, even now. If he is still alive, I cannot but believe that he will soon raise his voice against the course pursued by the German government and by his own party, and show the world that even in the land of utter darkness there still shines one light."
Liebknecht's record was open. For a score of years he had fought militarism tooth and nail. Could he now embrace it? Temporarily, it seemed that he had. He opposed the majority of his fellow-Socialists in the early days of August when they voted to support the war budget. But his efforts were unsuccessful. The majority decreed that the Social Democrats must support the war, and party discipline demanded that the minority abide by the decision of the majority. Party discipline was strong, at first too strong for Liebknecht. He yielded. Against his better judgment he voted, on August 5, for the budget. He voted, but he rebelled in spirit, and the next month, both at the home of a Socialist Alderman, F. M. Wibaut, of Amsterdam, and at the residence of Lieutenant Henry DeMan, in Brussels, he declared that he could not himself understand what had possessed him when he gave his vote in the Reichstag to the war budget.
He soon extricated himself from his former allegiances, however, and the noble spirit of courage which he afterwards displayed has but few precedents in modern history. In order to portray to the reader the real picture of the seemingly insurpassable obstacles against which he fought, and the courage and idealism which he displayed, I have collected and translated his speeches and his important utterances since the beginning of the war and here present them in detail for the first time to American readers.
Liebknecht had many opportunities for making himself heard. He was a Deputy of the Reichstag from Potsdam-Osthavelland, an assemblyman to the Prussian Landtag from Berlin and Councilman to the Stadverordneten Versammlung of Berlin. Within and without these assemblies he used his pen and his voice alike. It was in the Prussian Assembly, where from the very begining he had four companions who shared his point of view, that he delivered his longer addresses.
His tactics in the Reichstag, where for some time he stood almost alone, were somewhat different. Here, instead of delivering speeches, he used the question with telling effect, as a means of bringing out the truth on his side and of showing the emptiness of his opponents' claims. The government resorted to every conceivable means to silence him, but without success. Failing, they called him to military service, and put him in the uniform of a German soldier. This act put a temporary end to his outside public addresses, but he could still deliver his scathing indictments in the Reichstag and in the Prussian Assembly.
On May 1, 1916, he appeared at a public gathering in Berlin in civilian dress, and delivered the speech which sent him to jail. Why did he deliver that May Day address? Why did he not continue to reach the public over the heads of the legislators from his seats in the two Parliaments? It is indeed possible that he thought that the moment for the Revolution had struck. For it is an address of revolution, and seemed calculated to bring about an uprising of the workers. Perhaps he was under the impression that his addresses and the terrible pressure outside Germany had sufficiently awakened the German people, and that they needed but a word to bring them into action. Whatever the reason, the speech was a magnificent one; it required a courage which only a Liebknecht possessed.
When Ralph Waldo Emerson visited Henry Thoreau in his prison cell and asked, "What are you doing here, Henry?" Thoreau replied, "What are you doing outside when all people with ideals are inside?" That sentence well describes the Germany of yesterday. Liebknecht was in prison, but even in his lonesome cell he still inspired the "gathering hosts and helped to make men free."
I wish to express my sincerest gratitude to my friends, Bertram Benedict and Dr. Wm. E. Bohn, for help and criticism.
Liebknecht studied first at Leipzig and then in Berlin, attending the university in each city. As a student he began his career of social enlightenment by organizing literary societies for the study of social problems. Liebknecht got his doctor's degree in Political Economy and Law at the University of Würzburg. From 1889 he practised law in Berlin. Later he became active in the Socialist movement in Berlin. In 1902 he was elected Councilman to the Stadverordneten Versammlung (Common Council) of Berlin. In October, 1907, he was tried for high treason before the Imperial Court of Germany at Leipzig for his book on "Militarism & Anti-Militarism." The substance of this book which aroused the ire of the German authorities was first set forth in a lecture before a group of young people in 1906, for it is Liebknecht's belief that in the hands of the younger generation of Germany lies the hope of salvation; let them be impregnated, he would say, with the right social ideals before militaristic training has an opportunity to do its work, and there will be little danger of domination by the war lords, or of the fruition of the war lords' aims.
His trial was most interesting. It was said upon excellent authority that the Kaiser himself was connected by secret wire with the court room. Liebknecht bore himself triumphantly throughout; there was never a moment of wavering, never any evidence of any quality contrary to the gigantic and fearless strength which characterizes the man. Liebknecht is himself a very able lawyer, and though he had noted lawyers to represent him (including Hugo Haase, at present a leader of the Minority Socialist Party in the Reichstag), he supplemented their speeches with additional analyses of his own.
Liebknecht took up the question, "What is high treason?" He turned the tables upon Olshausen, who was conducting the trial against him, by a quotation from a work of Olshausen himself which contradicted the stand the latter was taking in the Liebknecht trial. The Socialist leader's address to the judges was one of the boldest attacks ever made, either up to that time or up to the present, against German militarism. "The aim of my life," he declared, "is the overthrow of monarchy. As my father, who appeared before this court exactly thirty-five years ago to defend himself against the charge of treason, was ultimately pronounced victor, so I believe the day is not far distant when the principles which I represent will be recognized as patriotic, as honorable, as true."
Liebknecht's brave stand on this occasion was rewarded by a sentence of a year and a half in a military prison. While serving his sentence he was elected by the people of Berlin to represent them in the assembly of Prussia. In the Landtag Liebknecht recommenced his fight against militarism. It was there that he prophetically pronounced the word "Republic" for the first time. On one occasion there was a debate upon the building of a new opera house. "The opera house for which we are asked to vote the necessary funds," he exclaimed, "should last for many generations. We trust that it will last long after it has lost its character as a Royal Opera House."
In 1910 Liebknecht visited America to give a series of lectures, and the United States made a strong impression upon him. He used to tell me that he felt truly homesick for America and had a genuine desire to repeat the visit.
In 1912 he was elected representative to the Reichstag by the people of Potsdam-Osthavelland, under the very window of the Kaiser. The announcement of his success was met with wild demonstrations of delight. The sentiments of the surging crowds before the office of the Berlin Vorwärts when the result of the election was made public were voiced by a young workingman, when he exclaimed, "The new voice of freedom will be heard from now on in the Reichstag." In the Reichstag Liebknecht hurled with renewed zeal his invectives against the huge armaments and militarism of Germany.
Liebknecht the man is of the kindest nature and frankest personality. There is to be seen in his make-up no grain of pretentiousness, of false pride – indeed, he usually lunches quite happily upon a sandwich in the train, too busy to find any other time for his meal. His home life is ideal. His present wife – his first died in 1912 – is a Russian by birth, a graduate of the University of Heidelberg, and an ideal companion and helpmate.
By Frank Jackman
History in the conditional, what might have happened if this or that thing, event, person had swerved this much or that, is always a tricky proposition. Tricky as reflected in this piece’s commemorative headline. Rosa Luxemburg the acknowledged theoretical wizard of the German Social-Democratic Party, the numero uno party of the Second, Socialist International, which was the logical organization to initiate the socialist revolution before World War II and Karl Liebknecht, the hellfire and brimstone propagandist and public speaker of that same party were assassinated in separate locale on the orders of the then ruling self-same Social-Democratic Party. The chasm between the Social-Democratic leaders trying to save Germany for “Western Civilization” in the wake of the “uncivilized” socialist revolution in Russia in 1917 had grown that wide that it was as if they were on two different planets, and maybe they were.
(By the way I am almost embarrassed to mention the term “socialist revolution” these days when people, especially young people, would be clueless as to what I was talking about or would think that this concept was so hopelessly old-fashioned that it would meet the same blank stares. Let me assure you that back in the day, yes, that back in the day, many a youth had that very term on the tips of their tongues. Could palpably feel it in the air. Hell, just ask your parents, or grandparents.)
Okay here is the conditional and maybe think about it before you dismiss the idea out of hand if only because the whole scheme is very much in the conditional. Rosa and Karl, among others made almost every mistake in the book before and during the Spartacist uprising in some of the main German cities in late 1918 after the German defeat in the war. Their biggest mistake before the uprising was sticking with the Social Democrats, as a left wing, when that party had turned at best reformist and eminently not a vehicle for the socialist revolution, or even a half-assed democratic “revolution” which is what they got with the overthrow of the Kaiser. They broke too late, and subsequently too late from a slightly more left-wing Independent Socialist Party which had split from the S-D when that party became the leading war party in Germany for all intents and purposes and the working class was raising its collective head and asking why.
The big mistake during the uprising was not taking enough protective cover, not keeping the leadership safe, keeping out of sight like Lenin had in Finland when things were dicey in 1917 Russia and fell easy prey to the Freikorps assassins. Here is the conditional, and as always it can be expanded to some nth degree if you let things get out of hand. What if, as in Russia, Rosa and Karl had broken from that rotten (for socialism) S-D organization and had a more firmly entrenched cadre with some experience in independent existence. What if the Spartacists had protected their acknowledged leaders better. There might have been a different trajectory for the aborted and failed German left-wing revolutionary opportunities over the next several years, there certainly would have been better leadership and perhaps, just perhaps the Nazi onslaught might have been stillborn, might have left Munich 1923 as their “heroic” and last moment.
Instead we have a still sad 100th anniversary of the assassination of two great international socialist fighters who headed to the danger not away always worthy of a nod and me left having to face those blank stares who are looking for way forward but might as well be on a different planet-from me.
Markin comment:
Biography
The son of Wilhelm Liebknecht, one of the founders of the SPD, Karl Liebknecht trained to be a lawyer and defended many Social Democrats in political trials. He was also a leading figure in the socialist youth movement and thus became a leading figure in the struggle against militarism.
As a deputy in the Reichstag he was one of the first SPD representatives to break party discipline and vote against war credits in December 1914. He became a figurehead for the struggle against the war. His opposition was so successful that his parliamentary immunity was removed and he was improsoned.
Freed by the November revolution he immediately threw himself into the struggle and became with Rosa Luxemburg one of the founders of the new Communist Party (KPD). Along with Luxemburg he was murdered by military officers with the tacit approval of the leaders of the SPD after the suppression of the so-called “Spartacist Uprising” in January 1919.
***********Preface
by Walter E. Weyl
THE philosophy of Karl Liebknecht as revealed in these pages leaves but a narrow ledge for heroes to stand on. To him the significant thing in history is, and has always been, the stirring of the masses of men at the bottom, their unconscious writhings, their awakenings, their conscious struggles and finally their gigantic, fearsome upthrust, which overturns all the little groups of clever men who have lived by holding these masses down. In these conflicts, kings, priests, leaders, heroes count for no more than flags or flying pennants. All great leaders, Caesar, Mahomet, Luther, Napoleon, are instruments of popular movements, or at best manuscripts upon which the messages of their class and age have been written.
To Liebknecht all that Carlyle has said about heroes is contrary to ideology and inversion of the truth. "As I take it," writes Carlyle, "Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked there. They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns, and in a wide sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or to attain; all things that we see standing and accomplished in the world are properly the outward material result, the practical realization and embodiment of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world: the soul of the whole world's history, it may justly be considered, were the history of these."Look at what is happening in Germany to-day and test, as best we may, these two confronting theories concerning the influence of great men upon history. As I write Germany is in the throes of revolution. The immensely powerful Hohenzollern monarchy has fallen, the brave, stubborn, modernwitted, money-bolstered aristocracy is shattered, and a proscribed poor man, Karl Liebknecht, is loudly acclaimed. Was it one man, a Foch, a Wilson, a Lenin or a Liebknecht that overturned this mighty structure, or was it the movement of a hundred million men and women, armed and unarmed, on the battle-field and in the factory, in France and England and Russia and Germany? What could Liebknecht alone have done with all his ringing eloquence and all his superb, I almost said, sublime heroism? Clearly we must rule Carlyle out of the controversy and agree with Liebknecht, the Socialist, that Liebknecht, the hero, had little to do with this vast subversion.
Yet, as Carlyle says, "One comfort is, that Great Men, taken up in any way, are profitable company. We cannot look, however imperfectly, upon any great man, without gaining something by him."
At this safe distance no one could be more "profitable company" than Karl Liebknecht as he stands up boldly against all that is powerful, respectable and formidable in Germany and challenges it at the utter risk of life and reputation. Such courage as his is almost inconceivable; for us poor conforming or at best feebly protesting little people it is quite impossible. To die among thousands, even to die alone, if you think you hear the plaudits of your nation or your class, is a thing many of us have learned to do, but to stand up against a vindictive irrational war spirit, such as ruled Germany, to stand up alone, to be contemned not only by your enemies but by those who called themselves your comrades and friends, to be met by polite derision and by actual threats of violence, to be called a madman, to be called a traitor, to be misunderstood and doubted; to be met in occasional moments of dejection even by doubts in your own mind, and still to hold your own bravely and with cool passion, day after day and day after day, in circumstances growing daily more difficult, and finally to go to prison gladly, triumphantly – that is courage surpassing the courage of the rest of us. It is easier to die even by torture than to persist in this opposition to forces physical and mental not only confronting but surrounding and even permeating us.
We have agreed with Liebknecht that great events are not the doings of great men but merely the large theater in which these great men play their little parts. And yet, does not the hero, subordinate as he is to the wider movement of the play, exert a somewhat stronger influence than many followers of Marx seem willing to admit? Masses of men are moved to vital historic decisions in part by economic motives, but these motives must first be converted into emotion, and the hero, however his own actions are motived, is one of the vital factors producing that emotion. We shall perhaps never know to what extent the present rising of the German people against their once invincible rulers was occasioned, though not caused, by their vision of Karl Liebknecht, standing there alone against all the judges, rulers, legislators and respectables of Germany, and even against his fellow socialists. The heroism of Liebknecht was at least a point and center of coalescence.
The course of events has vindicated Karl Liebknecht. But it might well have been otherwise. Had Germany won the war and established a clanging pax Germanica through the ruin of Europe, Liebknecht's heroism might never have been recognized. He might have rusted in prison and been released to obscurity and thereafter lived a futile life derided as a blind fanatic. The force of circumstances, the obscure action of the hundreds of millions, rescued Liebknecht and raised him to the highest pinnacle of heroism. It stamped upon our minds for all time the picture of this brave man standing alone surrounded by cruel, confidently smiling foes.
I said "alone." Yet this is not fair to a very small group of German minority socialists, who stood by Liebknecht and by whom Liebknecht stood. Among them were Rosa Luxemburg, Franz Mehring, Hugo Haase, George Ledebour, and others, to whom, were real heroism always decorated, would be given a higher order of "Pour le Mérite." But among all these Karl Liebknecht stands preëminent.
"And for all that mind you," concludes the French soldier Bertrand, in "Under Fire," "there is one figure that has risen above the war and will blaze with the beauty and strength of his courage."
Barbusse continues: "I listened leaning on a stick towards him, drinking in the voice that came in the twilight silence from the lips that so rarely spoke. He cried with a clear voice, 'Liebknecht.' "
WALTER WEYL.
Translator's Preface
"The future belongs to the people." The time was October 24, 1918; the place, Berlin, the center of Germany; the speaker, Doctor Karl Liebknecht. A remarkable change had indeed come over the Empire. As far as the eye could reach, a great shouting, surging crowd had gathered before the Reichstag buildings, a crowd such as might have foregathered in times past on almost any day of national festivity, to do honor to his Imperial Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm. They were indeed shouting frantically on this occasion, but with other sentiments, shouting not for the Kaiser, but for abdication, while applauding frantically for another, a bitter foe of the Kaiser, a man who had been sent to jail for high treason, had been deprived of his seat in the Reichstag, had been dubbed, even by those in his own party, an enemy of his kind – Karl Liebknecht. And who, witnessing the flower-laden carriage of the great popular hero, but would admit that a new day was at last dawning in that land of autocracy, a day ushered in by the guns and men of Foch?
The events leading to that ovation of the twenty-fourth of October are of interest.From the earliest days of its organization, soon after the middle of the nineteenth century, the German Social Democracy had taken a stand against militarism. During the Franco-Prussian War, two of its chief representatives, Wilhelm Liebknecht (the father of Karl Liebknecht) and August Bebel, had refused to vote for the war budget. In 1912, during the Balkan crisis, the German Socialists had attended in force the great gathering of the International Socialist Conference at Basle, protesting in vigorous tones against the war, and many there were on that occasion who declared that even if danger of world war had not been entirely eliminated, the Social Democrats of Germany, the strongest of the International movement, were prepared to meet any emergency that might arise. In the Reichstag elections, these Social Democrats had cast four and a quarter millions of votes, while the labor unions, which in Germany worked hand and hand with the Social-Democratic Party, numbered no less than two and a half millions. The Socialist movement had the support of hundreds of newspapers, possessed a strong and well-disciplined organization and large financial resources, and was remarkably rich in political experience. In efficiency of organization it ranked second only to the Catholic Church.
It was true that the German Social Democrats as yet had gained little real influence on the international policy of the Empire, and despite their powerful organization and their influence, they were in a position before the war to use only moral pressure on the government. Yet to many it seemed extremely unlikely that the German government would dare instigate a world conflagration when opposed at home by this powerful "internal enemy."
The war came. Immediately after war's declaration, the Imperial Chancellor called a meeting of the Reichstag on August 5, 1914, for the purpose of approving the war budget. The day before this gathering was held, he called together the leaders of the various parties, so the story runs, among them the Social Democrats, and transmitted to them a confidential communication. He had from a reliable source, he declared, information that a secret understanding existed between the French and the Belgian governments whereby the latter government had agreed, in case of emergency, that it would give the French army passage through Belgium for the purpose of invading Germany. It was because of this agreement, the Chancellor declared, that the neutrality of Belgium had to be violated. In addition to this information, the Chancellor told the assembled legislators that the Russian army had invaded German soil and had even then overrun two of the Prussian provinces.
These statements produced the desired effect, convincing the majority of the Social Democratic leaders that their only course was to support the Kaiser and his government. The government knew how to fool them, knew what to use in order to get their support, and the Kaiser and his government were victorious.
Every cable message during those days that reached America from Germany emphasized the thought that there were no longer any parties in Germany, that the Social Democrats had decided to give up their agitation and work only for victory. To many radicals in America who had pinned their faith to the internationalism of the German Social Democracy, these reports seemed well-nigh unbelievable. The Socialist leaders must have been put in jail, some argued.
Then more news came to confirm the reports, and the papers came, Socialist papers, and Socialist papers even of Germany, and all contained the same unbelievable truth. Some said then, "Well, the Government has taken over their papers and that is how this news can be explained." But fact after fact came out which made even the most doubtful admit that the cables had been based on truth. The strong and great structure built by a generation lay prostrate on the ground.
In those days of disillusion, I remember well a conversation among a few of us concerning the plight of the Social Democracy. "The German government knew their Socialists well, and knew how best to reach them," declared one of our group. "There is one man in Germany, however, whom we shouldn't despair of, even now. If he is still alive, I cannot but believe that he will soon raise his voice against the course pursued by the German government and by his own party, and show the world that even in the land of utter darkness there still shines one light."
Liebknecht's record was open. For a score of years he had fought militarism tooth and nail. Could he now embrace it? Temporarily, it seemed that he had. He opposed the majority of his fellow-Socialists in the early days of August when they voted to support the war budget. But his efforts were unsuccessful. The majority decreed that the Social Democrats must support the war, and party discipline demanded that the minority abide by the decision of the majority. Party discipline was strong, at first too strong for Liebknecht. He yielded. Against his better judgment he voted, on August 5, for the budget. He voted, but he rebelled in spirit, and the next month, both at the home of a Socialist Alderman, F. M. Wibaut, of Amsterdam, and at the residence of Lieutenant Henry DeMan, in Brussels, he declared that he could not himself understand what had possessed him when he gave his vote in the Reichstag to the war budget.
He soon extricated himself from his former allegiances, however, and the noble spirit of courage which he afterwards displayed has but few precedents in modern history. In order to portray to the reader the real picture of the seemingly insurpassable obstacles against which he fought, and the courage and idealism which he displayed, I have collected and translated his speeches and his important utterances since the beginning of the war and here present them in detail for the first time to American readers.
Liebknecht had many opportunities for making himself heard. He was a Deputy of the Reichstag from Potsdam-Osthavelland, an assemblyman to the Prussian Landtag from Berlin and Councilman to the Stadverordneten Versammlung of Berlin. Within and without these assemblies he used his pen and his voice alike. It was in the Prussian Assembly, where from the very begining he had four companions who shared his point of view, that he delivered his longer addresses.
His tactics in the Reichstag, where for some time he stood almost alone, were somewhat different. Here, instead of delivering speeches, he used the question with telling effect, as a means of bringing out the truth on his side and of showing the emptiness of his opponents' claims. The government resorted to every conceivable means to silence him, but without success. Failing, they called him to military service, and put him in the uniform of a German soldier. This act put a temporary end to his outside public addresses, but he could still deliver his scathing indictments in the Reichstag and in the Prussian Assembly.
On May 1, 1916, he appeared at a public gathering in Berlin in civilian dress, and delivered the speech which sent him to jail. Why did he deliver that May Day address? Why did he not continue to reach the public over the heads of the legislators from his seats in the two Parliaments? It is indeed possible that he thought that the moment for the Revolution had struck. For it is an address of revolution, and seemed calculated to bring about an uprising of the workers. Perhaps he was under the impression that his addresses and the terrible pressure outside Germany had sufficiently awakened the German people, and that they needed but a word to bring them into action. Whatever the reason, the speech was a magnificent one; it required a courage which only a Liebknecht possessed.
When Ralph Waldo Emerson visited Henry Thoreau in his prison cell and asked, "What are you doing here, Henry?" Thoreau replied, "What are you doing outside when all people with ideals are inside?" That sentence well describes the Germany of yesterday. Liebknecht was in prison, but even in his lonesome cell he still inspired the "gathering hosts and helped to make men free."
I wish to express my sincerest gratitude to my friends, Bertram Benedict and Dr. Wm. E. Bohn, for help and criticism.
S. ZIMAND.
November 3, 1918
November 3, 1918
The Man Liebknecht
KARL LIEBKNECHT is a worthy son of a great sire. His father, Wilhelm Liebknecht, for years a member of the Reichstag, was the author of numerous pamphlets on Socialism and economics and was one of the first founders of the Socialist Party in Germany. Karl Liebknecht was born in Leipzig on August 13th, 1871, the same year in which his father was arrested on the charge of high treason. His mother was wont to say that she bequeathed to her son all the sorrow that was hers during that period, all the courage and all the strength which she had to summon to her aid to live through those days; and with her bequest went all the sorrow for the sufferings of humanity, and all the courage and the strength to battle for the cause of the people, which were back of the father's trial.
And thirty-five years later, Karl Liebknecht underwent the same ordeal as his father – himself faced the accusation of high treason in the highest courts of his native land.Liebknecht studied first at Leipzig and then in Berlin, attending the university in each city. As a student he began his career of social enlightenment by organizing literary societies for the study of social problems. Liebknecht got his doctor's degree in Political Economy and Law at the University of Würzburg. From 1889 he practised law in Berlin. Later he became active in the Socialist movement in Berlin. In 1902 he was elected Councilman to the Stadverordneten Versammlung (Common Council) of Berlin. In October, 1907, he was tried for high treason before the Imperial Court of Germany at Leipzig for his book on "Militarism & Anti-Militarism." The substance of this book which aroused the ire of the German authorities was first set forth in a lecture before a group of young people in 1906, for it is Liebknecht's belief that in the hands of the younger generation of Germany lies the hope of salvation; let them be impregnated, he would say, with the right social ideals before militaristic training has an opportunity to do its work, and there will be little danger of domination by the war lords, or of the fruition of the war lords' aims.
His trial was most interesting. It was said upon excellent authority that the Kaiser himself was connected by secret wire with the court room. Liebknecht bore himself triumphantly throughout; there was never a moment of wavering, never any evidence of any quality contrary to the gigantic and fearless strength which characterizes the man. Liebknecht is himself a very able lawyer, and though he had noted lawyers to represent him (including Hugo Haase, at present a leader of the Minority Socialist Party in the Reichstag), he supplemented their speeches with additional analyses of his own.
Liebknecht took up the question, "What is high treason?" He turned the tables upon Olshausen, who was conducting the trial against him, by a quotation from a work of Olshausen himself which contradicted the stand the latter was taking in the Liebknecht trial. The Socialist leader's address to the judges was one of the boldest attacks ever made, either up to that time or up to the present, against German militarism. "The aim of my life," he declared, "is the overthrow of monarchy. As my father, who appeared before this court exactly thirty-five years ago to defend himself against the charge of treason, was ultimately pronounced victor, so I believe the day is not far distant when the principles which I represent will be recognized as patriotic, as honorable, as true."
Liebknecht's brave stand on this occasion was rewarded by a sentence of a year and a half in a military prison. While serving his sentence he was elected by the people of Berlin to represent them in the assembly of Prussia. In the Landtag Liebknecht recommenced his fight against militarism. It was there that he prophetically pronounced the word "Republic" for the first time. On one occasion there was a debate upon the building of a new opera house. "The opera house for which we are asked to vote the necessary funds," he exclaimed, "should last for many generations. We trust that it will last long after it has lost its character as a Royal Opera House."
In 1910 Liebknecht visited America to give a series of lectures, and the United States made a strong impression upon him. He used to tell me that he felt truly homesick for America and had a genuine desire to repeat the visit.
In 1912 he was elected representative to the Reichstag by the people of Potsdam-Osthavelland, under the very window of the Kaiser. The announcement of his success was met with wild demonstrations of delight. The sentiments of the surging crowds before the office of the Berlin Vorwärts when the result of the election was made public were voiced by a young workingman, when he exclaimed, "The new voice of freedom will be heard from now on in the Reichstag." In the Reichstag Liebknecht hurled with renewed zeal his invectives against the huge armaments and militarism of Germany.
Liebknecht the man is of the kindest nature and frankest personality. There is to be seen in his make-up no grain of pretentiousness, of false pride – indeed, he usually lunches quite happily upon a sandwich in the train, too busy to find any other time for his meal. His home life is ideal. His present wife – his first died in 1912 – is a Russian by birth, a graduate of the University of Heidelberg, and an ideal companion and helpmate.
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