This polemical novel, published in 1906 by Life Publishing in New York, might seem an odd choice for BoBuReview,
but I must confess to a family interest in the matter. It
came to my attention because my grandfather, William Balfour Ker -- an avowed socialist (and vegetarian) -- did the viscerally-impactful
original illustrations. (See pix below.)
Far from being the dirty word it
it these days, socialism was then seen as a panacea, a cure for society's ills and injustices, which were, if possible, even
more egregious than today's.
"The Silent War" was written by J. A. Mitchell
for the early version of Life magazine. It's an inflammatory story, so critical of capitalism, especially the "captains
of industry" who would be our modern-day CEO's, that it might have trouble finding a contemporary commercial publisher
-- either that, or shoot right to the top of the dissident best-seller lists.
The story itself
is woven around a philanthropic millionaire, Billy Chapman (whose wealth in relative terms would be equivalent to today's
billionaires). Chapman inherits several large fortunes from different sides of his family. But at least he's kind-hearted:
"Never having known want, he is generous."
As a young man studying at Cambridge
(Harvard), he gives some pocket money to a man named John Wilson who has just been released from prison for the murder
of a "human hog" named Rufus Dickson. Chapman even congratulates Wilson on his actions. "Bully for you!
'Twas a mighty good thing. Everybody thought so . . . " (Dickson was evidently a large-scale swindler,
presumably of widows and orphans, probably on the order of a Bernie Maddoff.)
Twenty years pass.
A People's League of oppressed workers springs up across America because conditions are so dire for working people.
Chapman has by now become a captain of industry himself, though not as completely avaricious as his unbelievably callous
colleagues. John Wilson, however, takes the opposite path, as an impassioned spokesman for the poor.
The
People's League forms a fanatical Committee of Seven which is determined to redress the wrongs of a system that "makes
war on the poor to enrich the rich." (Sub-prime mortgages, anyone?)
"You have no
public spirit," says Ellis Tucker, a fair-minded lawyer who is inexplicably advising Chapman and his cohorts on financial
matters. (The novel comes close to Dickensian social darkness and Victorian, coincidence-laden construction, but hey,
it worked for Dickens.)
"You reap without sowing," says Tucker. "Instead of
helping the poor man, you not only swindle him whenever you get a chance, but you do it openly and with no shame . . . you
would corner the air he breathes if only you knew how." (They obviously hadn't thought of water or plant seeds yet.)
The
financiers snigger as they await the arrival of one of their cohorts, who is unaccountably late. They discover, after
a lot more rebukes from lawyer Tucker, that their colleague has been murdered by the Committee of Seven.
Said
group has drawn up a list of the top 100 millionaires in America and dunned them each for a donation of two hundred thousand
dollars. "So that we may buy Senators as freely as do you," one of their members explains. But if the
targeted millionaire refuses to pay up, the penalty is death.
This is all for a doubly good cause,
so to speak -- to prevent armed revolution on the part of the abused workers of America, something the Committee of
Seven is sure will come soon because the disparity of income has become so woeful and so widespread. The People's League
even cynically re-writes the Gospel, which is read aloud by Wilson. To wit, "Blessed are the rich. Unto
him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath nothing shall be withheld even that which he needeth . . .
"The
savings of the laborer shall be manipulated with exceeding wisdom until they also shall be [the rich man's]."
There's
more in this vein, but you get the idea. One of the controversial statements in the book, or at least it might be to
some of today's Christian mega-churches, is that "Christ, you know, was an extreme socialist. He went further,
much further, than we think of going today."
When this causes a shocked reaction, Wilson continues
his speechifying to the gathering of the People's League. "The most respectable people considered our Saviour a
crank . . . " This is conceded, but the Committee's acts of selective assassination are not condoned by the group at
large.
The People's League wants to raise enough money to achieve their objectives -- fair and
decent living standards for American workers -- by peaceable means. "You think our methods brutal," Wilson
continues. "We have no choice. The American magnate disregards the law, for he owns it. He has no fear
of public opinion, for he owns the press. As for the United States Senate . . . those gilded patriots bear the same
relation to Wall Street as a yellow dog to a butcher's cart."
How apt and real-time can we
get?
There probably is no such thing as a perfect poltical system and I am in no way an apologist
for socialism or its horrors under Stalin, but I honor J. A. Mitchell and my grandfather for their keen sense of outrage at
what unchecked and irresponsible capitalism does to its workers. From a Buddhist perspective, we will never find a solution
as long as we look at the world in terms of dualistic black and white, i.e., capitalism = good, socialism = bad. Starting
with the basics, the genuine welfare and freedom from basic wants of the general populace, surely there are elements of both
systems that are beneficial to the public weal. Don't wisdom, compassion and painful experience demand that we explore
the middle ground?
-- Paki S. Wright
