to vote against the interests of others than to persuade them to vote for their own interests. In the recent General Election in this country very few electors remembered their own interests at all. They voted for the man who showed the loudest zeal for hanging the Kaiser, not because they imagined they would be richer if he were hanged but as an expression of disinterested hatred. This is one of the reasons why autonomy is important: in order that, as far as possible, no group shall have its internal concerns determined for it by those who hate it. And this result is not secured by the mere form of democracy; it can only be secured by careful devolution of special powers to special groups, so as to secure, as far as possible, that legislation shall be inspired by the self-interest of those concerned, not by the hostility of those not concerned.

This brings us to the second of the two questions mentioned above a question which is, in fact, closely bound up with the first. Our second question was: What are the matters with which the democracy has a right to interfere? It is now generally recognized that religion, for example, is a question with which no government should interfere. If a Mahometan comes to live in England we do not think it right to force him to profess Christianity. This is a comparatively recent change; three centuries ago, no state recognized the right of the individual to choose his own religion. (Some other personal rights have been longer recognized: a man may choose his own wife, though in Christian countries he must not choose more than one.) When it ceased to be illegal to hold that the earth goes round the sun, it was not made illegal to believe that the sun goes round the earth. In such matters it has been found, with intense surprise, that personal liberty does not entail anarchy. Even the sternest supporters of the rule of the majority would not hold that the Archbishop of Canterbury ought to turn Buddhist if Parliament ordered him to do so. And Parliament does not, as a rule, issue orders of this kind, largely because it is known that the resistance would be formidable and that it would have support in public opinion.

In theory, the formula as to legitimate interference is simple. A democracy has a right to interfere with those of the affairs of a group which intimately concern people outside the group, but not with those which have comparatively slight effects outside the group. In practice, this formula may sometimes be difficult to apply, but often its application is clear.

If, for example, the Welsh wish to have their elementary education conducted in Welsh, that is a matter which concerns them so much more intimately than anyone else that there can be no good reason why the rest of the United Kingdom should interfere. Thus the theory of democracy demands a good deal more than the mere mechanical supremacy of the majority. It demands: (1) division of the community into more or less autonomous groups; (2) delimitation of the powers of the autonomous groups by determining which of their concerns are so much more important to themselves than to others that others had better have no say in them. Direct action may, in most cases, be judged by these tests. In an ideal democracy industries or groups of industries would be self-governing as regards almost everything except the price and quantity of their product, and their self-government would be democratic. Measures which they would then be able to adopt autonomously they are now justified in extorting from the government by direct action. At present the extreme limit of imaginable official concession is a conference in which the men and the employers are represented equally, but this is very far from democracy, since the men are much more numerous than the employers. This application of majority-rule is abhorrent to those who invoke majority-rule against direct-actionists; yet it is absolutely in accordance with the principles of democracy. It must at best be a long and difficult process to procure formal self-government for industries. Meanwhile they have the same right that belongs to oppressed national groups, the right of securing the substance of autonomy by making it difficult and painful to go against their wishes in matters primarily concerning themselves. So long as they confine themselves to such matters, their action is justified by the strictest principles of theoretical democracy, and those who decry it have been led by prejudice to mistake the empty form of democracy for its substance.

Certain practical limitations, however, are important to remember. In the first place, it is unwise for a section to set out to extort concessions from the government by force, if in the long run public opinion will be on the side of the government. For a government backed by public opinion will be able, in a prolonged struggle, to defeat any subordinate section. In the second place, it is important to render every struggle of this kind, when it does occur, a means of educating the public opinion by making facts known which would otherwise remain more

or less hidden. In a large community most people know very little about the affairs of other groups than their own. The only way in which a group can get its concerns widely known is by affording "copy" for the newspapers, and by showing itself sufficiently strong and determined to command respect. When these conditions are fulfilled, even if it is force that is brought to bear upon the government, it is persuasion that is brought to bear upon the community. And in the long run no victory is secure unless it rests upon persuasion, and employs force at most as a means to persuasion.

The mention of the press and its effect on public opinion suggests a direction in which direct action has sometimes been advocated, namely to counteract the capitalist bias of almost all great newspapers. One can imagine compositors refusing to set up some statement about trade-union action which they know to be directly contrary to the truth. Or they might insist on setting up side by side a statement of the case from the trade-union standpoint. Such a weapon, if it were used sparingly and judiciously, might do much to counteract the influence of the newspapers in misleading public opinion. So long as the capitalist system persists, more newspapers are bound to be capitalist ventures and to present "facts," in the main, in the way that suits capitalistic interests. A strong case can be made out for the use of direct action to counteract this tendency. But it is obvious that very grave dangers would attend such a practice if it became common. A censorship of the press by trade unionists would, in the long run, be just as harmful as any other censorship. It is improbable, however, that the method could be carried to such extremes, since if it were a special set of blackleg compositors would be trained up, and no others would gain admission to the offices of capitalist newspapers. In this case, as in others, the dangers supposed to belong to the method of direct action are largely illusory, owing to the natural limitations of its effectiveness.

Direct action may be employed: (1) for amelioration of trade conditions within the present economic system; (2) for economic reconstruction, including the partial or complete abolition of the capitalist system; (3) for political ends, such as altering the form of government, extension of the suffrage, or amnesty for political prisoners. Of these three no one nowadays would deny the legitimacy of the first, except in exceptional circumstances. The third, except for purposes of es

tablishing democracy where it does not exist, seems a dubious expedient if democracy, in spite of its faults, is recognized as the best practicable form of government; but in certain cases, for example where there has been infringement of some important right such as free speech, it may be justifiable. The second of the above uses of the strike, for the fundamental change of the economic system, has been made familiar by the French Syndicalists. It seems fairly certain that, for a considerable time to come, the main struggle in Europe will be between capitalism and some form of Socialism, and it is highly probable that in this struggle the strike will play a great part. To introduce democracy into industry by any other method would be very difficult. And the principle of group autonomy justifies this method so long as the rest of the community opposes self-government for industries which desire it. Direct action has its dangers, but so has every vigorous form of activity. And in our recent realization of the importance of law we must not forget that the greatest of all dangers to a civilization is to become stereotyped and stagnant. From this danger, at least, industrial unrest is likely to save us.

THE DOGMA OF "DIRECT ACTION"1

Only a "documented" history of Labour movements, such as they now produce in France, will ever tell anything like the whole story of the movement for "direct action" in the area of modern Socialism. All that the outsider can broadly discern is that it is an intelligible reaction, apparently arising in France, from the old Marxist precept of waiting for the coming Socialist majority and then scientifically reshaping society. So far from hinting at "direct action," the original Marxist gospel did not contemplate even a participation in any legislative measures of social reform. The faithful were simply to wait till the inevitable worsening of things under the capitalistic system brought about the "general overturn;" whereupon, having attained their majority, the Socialists would take charge. Perhaps the Old Guard in recent years began to contemplate a consummation without a preface of social collapse; but they were still merely critics of a doomed social system.

1 By the Right Hon. J. M. Robertson. Everyman. 14:445-6. August 16, 1919.

In Germany, the double result of that attitude was, on the one hand, a revival of practical trade unionism among workers who wanted some betterment in their lifetime; and, on the other hand, a movement for practical "palliative" action within the Socialist party proper. As a result of that policy, the Social Democrats were obtaining before the war rapidly increasing gains in the elections, many people supporting the Socialist ticket because, for one thing, it included a demand for reduced food duties. But in France, where the "high" Marxian doctrine was never calculated to win great headway; and where the gifted and much beloved Jaurès stood for a policy of graduated progress, as against the Old Guard of Bebel, the impatient type of idealist began to cry, “A plague o' both your houses," and to insist that Labour has at any moment the power in its hands to impose its will on the world if it will but confederate and organise. "No more waiting for the parliamentary majority; no more patient propaganda: instead of trying to set up a Labour Ministry, dictate to the existing Ministry and the existing society the minimum of Labour's demands. If they are refused, resort to the universal strike; that will compel them to surrender." Such is, in outline, the latter-day ideal.

Obviously, the affinities of such a doctrine are with Anarchism rather than with Socialism. Anarchism, of course, had always its two wings, the “idealist” and the "realist," one preaching an incredible but innocent Utopia; the other savagely planning to clear the ground for it. The title of Anarchist thus covered some of the most benign and some of the most ruthless men in the world; the one thing they had in common being a dream of a complete social disintegration, which was simply to be followed by a fresh integration. For a time the group of wreckers, like a wolf at large, sought to terrorise Europe by desperate crimes. But the wolf cannot long hold his own in an organised society, and Anarchism of all sorts gradually ebbed out. It is partly to that old inspiration, however, that we may ascribe the new doctrine of Direct Action, which so resembles Anarchism in respect of determination to impose a revolutionary ideal on an unprepared society, and of total unpreparedness to organise a new society, save by handto-hand methods.

We are told, of course, that the party of Direct Action has a programme-a policy, to begin with, of nationalisation of