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Direct Legislation by the Citizenship through the Initiative and Referendum
by James W. Sullivan
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Despite a widespread impression to the contrary, the traditions for ages of nearly all that now constitutes Swiss territory have been of tyranny and not of liberty. In most of that territory, in turn, bishop, king, noble, oligarch, and politician governed, but until the past half century, or less, never the masses. Half the area of Switzerland, at present containing 40 per cent of the inhabitants, was brought into the federation only in the present century. Of this recent accession, Geneva, for a brief term part of France, had previously long been a pure oligarchy, and more remotely a dictatorship; Neuchatel had been a dependency of the crown of Prussia, never, in fact, fully released until 1857; Valais and the Grisons, so-called independent confederacies, had been under ecclesiastical rule; Ticino had for three centuries been governed as conquered territory, the privilege of ruling over it purchased by bailiffs from its conquerors, the ancient Swiss League—"a harsh government," declares the Encyclopaedia Britannica, "one of the darkest passages of Swiss history." Of the older Switzerland, Bale, Berne, and Zurich were oligarchical cities, each holding in feudality extensive neighboring regions. Not until 1833 were the peasants of Bale placed on an equal footing with the townspeople, and then only after serious disturbances. And the inequalities between lord and serf, victor and vanquished, voter and disfranchised, existed in all the older states save those now known as the Landsgemeinde cantons. Says Vincent: "Almost the only thread that held the Swiss federation together was the possession of subject lands. In these they were interested as partners in a business corporation. Here were revenues and offices to watch and profits to divide, and matters came to such a pass that almost the only questions upon which the Diet could act in concert were the inspection of accounts and other affairs connected with the subject territories. The common properties were all that prevented complete rupture on several critical occasions. Another marked feature in the condition of government was the supremacy gained by the patrician class. Municipalities gained the upper hand over rural districts, and within the municipalities the old families assumed more and more privileges in government, in society, and in trade. The civil service in some instances became the monopoly of a limited number of families, who were careful to perpetuate all their privileges. Even in the rural democracies there was more or less of this family supremacy visible. Sporadic attempts at reform were rigorously suppressed in the cities, and government became more and more petrified into aristocracy. A study of this period of Swiss history explains many of the provisions found in the constitutions of today, which seem like over-precaution against family influence. The effect of privilege was especially grievous, and the fear of it survived when the modern constitutions were made."

Here, plainly, are the final explanations of any shortcomings in Swiss liberty. In those parts of Switzerland where these shortcomings are serious, modern ideas of equality in freedom have not yet gained ascendency over the ages-honored institution of inequality. Progress is evident, but the goal of possible freedom is yet distant. How, indeed, could it be otherwise when in several cantons it was only in 1848, with the Confederation, that manhood suffrage was established?

But how, it may be inquired, did the name of Swiss ever become the synonym of liberty? This land whose soldiery hired out as mercenaries to foreign princes, this League of oppressors, this hotbed of religious conflicts and persecutions,—how came it to be regarded as the home of a free people!

The truth is that the traditional reputation of the whole country is based on the ancient character of a part. The Landsgemeinde cantons alone bear the test of democratic principles. Within them, indeed, for a thousand years the two primary essentials of democracy have prevailed. They are:

(1) That the entire citizenship vote the law.

(2) That land is not property, and its sole just tenure is occupancy and use.

The first-named essential is yet in these cantons fully realized; largely, also, is the second.

The Communal Lands of Switzerland.

As to the tenure of the land held in Switzerland as private property, Hon. Boyd Winchester, for four years American minister at Berne, in his recent work, "The Swiss Republic," says: "There is no country in Europe where land possesses the great independence, and where there is so wide a distribution of land ownership as in Switzerland. The 5,378,122 acres devoted to agriculture are divided among 258,637 proprietors, the average size of the farms throughout the whole country being not more than twenty-one acres. The facilities for the acquisition of land have produced small holders, with security of tenure, representing two-thirds the entire population. There are no primogeniture, copyhold, customary tenure, and manorial rights, or other artificial obstacles to discourage land transfer and dispersion." "There is no belief in Switzerland that land was made to administer to the perpetual elevation of a privileged class; but a widespread and positive sentiment, as Turgot puts it, that 'the earth belongs to the living and not to the dead,' nor, it may be added, to the unborn."

Turgot's dictum, however, obtains no more than to this extent: (1) The cantonal testamentary laws almost invariably prescribe division of property among all the children—as in the code Napoleon, which prevails in French Switzerland, and which permits the testator to dispose of only a third of his property, the rest being divided among all the heirs. (2) Highways, including the railways, are under immediate government control. (3) The greater part of the forests are managed, much of them owned, by the Confederation. (4) In nearly all the communes, some lands, often considerable in area, are under communal administration. (5) In the Landsgemeinde cantons largely, and in other cantons in a measure, inheritance and participation, jointly and severally, in the communal lands are had by the members of the communal corporation—that is, by those citizens who have acquired rights in the public property of the commune.

Nearly every commune in Switzerland has public lands. In many communes, where they are mostly wooded, they are entirely in charge of the local government; in others, they are in part leased to individuals; in others, much of them is worked in common by the citizens having the right; but in the Landsgemeinde cantons it is customary to divide them periodically among the members of the corporation.

Of the Landsgemeinde cantons, one or two yet have nearly as great an area of public land as of private. The canton of Uri has nearly 1,000 acres of cultivated lands, the distribution of which gives about a quarter of an acre to each family entitled to a share. Uri has also forest lands worth between 4,000,000 and 5,000,000 francs, representing a capital of nearly 1,500 francs to each family. The commune of Obwald, in Unterwald, with 13,000 inhabitants, has lands and forests valued at 11,350,000 francs. Inner Rhodes, in Appenzell, with 12,000 inhabitants, has land valued at 3,000,000 francs. Glarus, because of its manufactures, is one of the richest cantons in public domain. In the non-Landsgemeinde German cantons, there is much common land. One-third of all the lands of the canton of Schaffhausen is held by the communes. The town of Soleure has forests, pastures, and cultivated lands worth about 6,000,000 francs. To the same value amounts the common property of the town of St. Gall. In the canton of St. Gall the communal Alpine pasturages comprise one-half such lands. Schwyz has a stretch of common land (an allmend) thirty miles in length and ten to fifteen in breadth. The city of Zurich has a well-kept forest of twelve to fifteen square miles, worth millions of francs. Winterthur, the second town in Zurich, has so many forests and vineyards that for a long period its citizens not only had no taxes to pay, but every autumn each received gratis several cords of wood and many gallons of wine. Numerous small towns and villages in German Switzerland collect no local taxes, and give each citizen an abundance of fuel. In addition to free fuel, cultivable lands are not infrequently allotted. At Stanz, in Unterwald, every member of the corporation is given more than an acre. At Buchs, in St. Gall, each member receives more than an acre, with firewood and grazing ground for several head of cattle. Upward of two hundred French communes possess common lands. In the canton of Vaud, a number of the communes have large revenues in wood and butter from the forests and pastures of the Jura mountains. Geneva has great forests; Valais many vineyards.

In the canton of Valais, communal vineyards and grain fields are cultivated in common. Every member of the corporation who would share in the produce of the land contributes a certain share of work in field or vineyard. Part of the revenue thus obtained is expended in the purchase of cheese. The rest of the yield provides banquets in which all the members take part.

Excepting in the case of forests, the trend is away from working the lands in common. Examples of the later methods are to be seen in the cantons of Ticino and Glarus, as follows:—

Several communes in Ticino, notably Airolo, have much public wealth. Airolo has seventeen mountain pastures, each of which feeds forty to eighty head of cattle. Each member of the corporation has the right to send up to these pastures five head for the summer. Those sending more, pay for the privilege; those sending less, receive a rental. On a specified day at the beginning of the season and on another at the close, the milk of each cow is weighed; from these amounts her average yield is estimated, and her total produce computed. The cheese and butter from the herds are sold, most of it in Milan, the hire of the herders paid, and the net revenue divided among the members according to the yield of their cows.

In Glarus, the produce of the greater part of the communal lands, instead of being directly divided among the inhabitants, is substituted for taxation. The commonable alps are let by auction for a term of years, and, in opposition to ancient principles, strangers may bid for them. Some of the Glarus communes sell the right to cut timber in the forest under the superintendence of the guardians. The mountain hotels, in not a few instances the property of the communes, are let year by year. Land is frequently rented from the communes by manufacturing establishments. A citizen not using his share of the communal land may lease it to the commune, which in turn will let it to a tenant. The communes of Glarus are watchful that enough arable land is preserved for distribution among the members. If a plot is sold to manufacturers, or for private building purposes, a piece of equal or greater extent is bought elsewhere. Glarus has relatively as many people engaged in industries aside from farming as any other spot in Europe. It has 34,000 inhabitants, of whom nearly 15,000 live directly by manufactures, while of the rest many indirectly receive something from the same source. Distributive cooeperative societies on the English plan exist in most of the industrial communes. The members of the communal corporations in Glarus, though not rich, are as free and independent as any other wage-workers in the world: they inherit the common lands; their local taxes are little or nothing; they are assured work, if not in the manufactories then on the land.

Of the poverty that fears pauperism in old age, that dreads enforced idleness in recurrent industrial crises, that undermines health, that sinks human beings in ignorance, that deprives men of their manhood, the Swiss who enjoy the common lands of the Landsgemeinde cantons know little or nothing. They have enough. They have nothing to waste, nothing to spare; their fare is simple. But they are free. It is to the like freedom and equality of their ancestors that historians have pointed. It would be well nigh meaningless to refer to any freedom and equality among other ancient Swiss. The right of asylum from religious oppression is the sole feature of liberty at all general of old. The present is the first generation in which all the Swiss have been free. The chief elements of their political freedom—the Initiative and Referendum—came from the Landsgemeinde cantons. From the same source, in good time, so also may come to all Switzerland the prime element of economic freedom—free access to land.

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Poverty is a relative condition. Men may be poor of mind—ignorant; and of body—ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-sheltered; and of rights—dependent. And from the state of hopeless deprivation involving all these forms upward are minute gradations. Where stand the Swiss in the scale?

This the reply: Their system of education gives free opportunity to all to partake of the mental heritage of the ages. Their method of distribution, through the inheritance laws, of private and common lands, has made roughly two-thirds of the heads of families agricultural land holders. There being in other regards government control of all monopolies, the consequence is a widespread distribution of the annual product. Hence, no pauperism to be compared with that of England; no plutocracy such as we have in America. Certain other facts broadly outline the general comfort and independence. As one effect of the subdivision of the land, the soil, so far as nature permits, is highly cultivated, its appearance fertile, finished, beautiful, and in striking contrast with the dominating vast, bare mountain rocks and snowbeds. The many towns and cities bear abundant signs of a general prosperity, their roads, bridges, stores, residences, and public buildings betokening in the inhabitants industry and energy, and freedom to employ these qualities. Emigration is at low percentage, and of those citizens who do leave for the New World not a few are educated persons with some means seeking short cuts to fortune. Much of the rough work of Switzerland is done by Savoyards, as houseworkers, and by Italians, as farm hands, laborers, and stone masons: showing that as a body even the poorest of the propertyless Swiss have some choice of the better paid occupations. Every spring sees Italians, by scores of thousands, pouring over the Alps for a summer's work in Switzerland. Indeed, Swiss wage-workers might command better terms were it not for competing Italians, French, and Germans. In other words, through just social arrangements, enough has been done in Switzerland to raise the economic level of the entire nation; but the overflow of laborers from other lands depresses the condition of home labor. Nevertheless, where, it may be asked, is the people higher in the scale of civilization, in all the word implies, than the Swiss?

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To recount what the Swiss have done by direct legislation:

They have made it easy at any time to alter their cantonal and federal constitutions,—that is, to change, even radically, the organization of society, the social contract, and thus to permit a peaceful revolution at the will of the majority. They have as well cleared from the way of majority rule every obstacle,—privilege of ruler, fetter of ancient law, power of legislator. They have simplified the structure of government, held their officials as servants, rendered bureaucracy impossible, converted their representatives to simple committeemen, and shown the parliamentary system not essential to lawmaking. They have written their laws in language so plain that a layman may be judge in the highest court. They have forestalled monopolies, improved and reduced taxation, avoided incurring heavy public debts, and made a better distribution of their land than any other European country. They have practically given home rule in local affairs to every community. They have calmed disturbing political elements;—the press is purified, the politician disarmed, the civil service well regulated. Hurtful partisanship is passing away. Since the people as a whole will never willingly surrender their sovereignty, reactionary movement is possible only in case the nation should go backward. But the way is open forward. Social ideals may be realized in act and institution. Even now the liberty-loving Swiss citizen can discern in the future a freedom in which every individual,—independent, possessed of rights in nature's resources and in command of the fruits of his toil,—may, at his will, on the sole condition that he respect the like aim of other men, pursue his happiness.



DIRECT LEGISLATION IN THE UNITED STATES.

"But these are foreign methods. How are they to be engrafted on our American system?" More than once have I been asked this question when describing the Initiative and Referendum of Switzerland.

The reply is: Direct legislation is not foreign to this country. Since the settlement of New England its practice has been customary in the town meeting, an institution now gradually spreading throughout the western states—of recent years with increased rapidity. The Referendum has appeared, likewise, with respect to state laws, in several forms in every part of the Union. In the field of labor organization, also, especially in several of the more carefully managed national unions, direct legislation is freely practiced. The institution does not need to be engrafted on this republic; it is here; it has but to develop naturally.

The Town Meeting.

The town meeting of New England is the counter-part of the Swiss communal political meeting. Both assemblies are the primary form of the politico-social organization. Both are the foundation of the structure of the State. The essential objects of both are the same: to enact local regulations, to elect local officers, to fix local taxation, and to make appropriations for local purposes. At both, any citizen may propose measures, and these the majority may accept or reject—i.e., the working principles of town and commune alike are the Initiative and the Referendum.

A fair idea of the proceedings at all town meetings may be gained through description of one. For several reasons, a detailed account here of what actually happened recently at a town meeting is, it seems to me, justified. At such a gathering is seen, in plain operation, in the primary political assembly, the principles of direct legislation. The departure from those principles in a representative gathering is then the more clearly seen. In many parts of the country, too, the methods of the town meeting are little known. By observing the transactions in particular, the reader will learn the variety in the play of democratic principle and draw from it instructive inference.

The town of Rockland, Plymouth county, in the east of Massachusetts, has 5,200 inhabitants; assesses for taxation 5,787 acres of land; contains 1,078 dwelling houses, 800 of which are occupied by owners, and numbers 1,591 poll tax payers, who are therefore voters.

At 9 a.m., on Monday, March 2, 1891, 819 voters of Rockland assembled in the opera house for the annual town meeting, the "warrant" for which, in accordance with the law, had been publicly posted seven days before and published once in each of the two town newspapers. A presiding officer for the day, called a moderator, was elected by show of hands, after which an election by ballot for town officers for the ensuing year was begun. The supervisors of the voting were the town clerk and the three selectmen (the executive officers of the town), who were seated on a platform at one end of the hall. To cast his ballot, a voter mounted the platform, his name was called aloud by the clerk, his ballot was deposited, a check bell striking as it was thrown in the ballot-box, and the voter stepped on and down. The ballot was a printed one, its size, color, and type regulated by state law. When the voters had cast their ballots, five tellers, who had been chosen by show of hands, counted the vote. In this balloting for town officers, there was no division into Republicans and Democrats, although considerable grouping together through party association could be traced. The officers elected were a town clerk and treasurer; a board of three, to serve as selectmen, assessors, overseers of the poor, and fence viewers; three school committeemen; a water commissioner; a board of health of three members; two library trustees; three auditors, and seven constables.

A vote was also taken by ballot—"Yes" or "No"—on the question: "Shall licenses be granted for the sale of intoxicating liquors in this town?" The yeas were 317; nays, 347. The form of ballot used in this case was precisely that invariably employed in the Referendum in Switzerland.

After a recess of an hour at midday, the business laid out in the "warrant" was resumed. There were present 700 to 800 voters, with, as on-lookers on the same floor, a large number of women, the principal and pupils of the high school, and the teachers and children of the grammar schools.

The "warrant" (the schedule for the meeting) consisted of forty-four "articles," each representing a matter to be debated and voted on—that is to say, a subject for legislation. These articles had been placed in the warrant by the selectmen, either on their own motion or on request of citizens. The election of moderator had taken place under article 1; that of town officers under article 2; the license vote under article 3. The voting on the rest of the articles now took place by show of hands. Article 4 related to the annual reports of the town officers, printed copies of which were to be had by each citizen. These were read and discussed. Article 5 related to the general appropriations for town expenses for the ensuing year. The following were decided on, each item being voted on separately:

For highway repairs $3,800 For military aid $500 For removing snow 300 For guideboards 50 For fire department 1,200 For abatement of taxes and For police service 500 collector's fee 500 For night watch 600 For support of poor 5,500 For town officers 2,200 For library, etc 1,000 For town committees, and For schools, proper 11,300 Abingdon records 50 For school-incidentals 1,000 For miscellaneous expenses 1,200 For school books 1,000 For interest 1,000 For hydrants 2,300 For memorial day 100 For water bonds, etc 2,500

Article 6, which was agreed to, authorized the town treasurer to borrow money in anticipation of the collection of taxes; article 7 related to the method of collecting the town taxes. It was decided these should be farmed out to the lowest bidder, and, on the spot, a citizen secured the contract at sixty-eight cents on the hundred. Article 8 related to the powers of the tax collector; 9, to a list of jurors reported by the selectmen, which was accepted; 10, to methods of repairing highways and sidewalks; 11, to appropriating money for memorial day. Articles 10 and 11 were passed over, having been covered in the general appropriations, and the selectmen were instructed to enforce in highway work the nine-hour law. Article 12, which was adopted, provided for a night watch; 13, relating to copying the records of Abingdon, had been passed upon in the general appropriations; 14, providing for widening and straightening a street, was passed, and $350 appropriated for the purpose; 15, providing for concrete sidewalks, excited much debate, and $300 was appropriated in addition to material on hand. Articles 16, appropriating $350 for draining a street, and 17, requesting the selectmen to lay out a water course on another street, were adopted. Article 18, which was carried by a large majority, appropriated, in five items, discussed and voted on separately, $7,250 for the fire department. Article 19 appropriated $100 for a town road, 20 $200 for another, and these were adopted, but 21, by which $325 was asked for another road, was laid on the table. Articles 22 and 23, appropriating $75 and $25 for bridges, were passed. Article 24, proposing the graveling of a sidewalk, was referred to the selectmen. Articles 25, 26, 27, and 28, proposing the laying of sidewalks, were adopted, with appropriations of $150, $125, $150, and $150; but 29, also proposing a new sidewalk, was laid on the table. Article 30, proposing a new sidewalk, was adopted, with an appropriation of $300, but 31, proposing another, was laid on the table. Articles 32, proposing to change the grading of two streets, with an appropriation of $500; 33, appropriating $300 for a highway roller; 34, providing for a public drinking fountain, and appropriating $200; 35, providing for a new bridge, and appropriating $75, were all adopted. Articles 36, 37, and 38, providing for extensions to the water mains, were laid on the table. Article 39, appropriating $300 for relocation of a telephone line, was adopted; but articles 40, providing for a memorial building, 41, providing for a town hall, and 42, providing for a soldiers' memorial, were laid on the table. Lastly, articles 43 and 44, providing for changes in street names, were accepted as reported by the selectmen.

After finishing the "warrant," the meeting appropriated $10 to pay the moderator, fixed $3 a day as the rate for the selectmen, and directed the latter not to employ as constable any man who had been rejected by a vote of the town. It was 10.45 p.m. when the assemblage broke up, a recess having been taken from 5.30 to 7.30.

The proceedings at this meeting were characterized by democratic methods. When the town officers handed in their reports, they were questioned and criticised by one citizen and another. A motion to refer the general appropriation list to a committee of twenty-five met with overwhelming defeat in the face of the expressed sentiment that about all left of primitive democracy was the old-fashioned town meeting. One of the speakers on the town library appropriation was a lady, and her point was carried. On the question of buying new fire extinguishing apparatus, there were sides and leaders, with prolonged debate. As to roads and bridges, each matter was dealt with on its own merits and separately from other similar propositions. In the election for officers, women voted for school committeemen.

The only officials of Rockland under annual salary are the treasurer and town physician. Selectmen receive a sum per diem; constables, fees; school committeemen make out their own bills. The others serve for nothing.

Rockland, politically, is a typical New England town. What is to be said of its manner of town meeting may, with little modification, be said of all. Each citizen present at such a meeting may join in the debate. From the printed copy of the officers' reports he may learn what his town government has done in the year past; from the printed warrant he may see what is proposed to be done in the year coming. He who knows the better way in any of the business is sure to receive a hearing. The pockets of all being concerned, whatever is best and cheapest is insured. Bribery, successful only in the dark, has little or no field in the town meeting.

Provision usually exists by which a town may dispose of any urgent matters springing up for legislation in the course of the year: as a rule a special town meeting may be called on petition of a small number of citizens, commonly seven to eleven.

In a study of the town meeting system of today, in "Harper's Monthly," June, 1891, Henry Loomis Nelson brought out many convincing facts as to its superiority over government by a town board. Where the cost for public lighting in a New England town had been but $2,000, in a New York town of the same size it had amounted to $11,000. The cities of Worcester, Mass., and Syracuse, New York, each of about 80,000 inhabitants, were compared, with the New England city in every respect by far the more economically governed. Towns in New England are uniformly superior to others in other parts of the country with regard to the extent of sewers and paved streets. The aggregate of town debts in New England is vastly less than the aggregate for a similar population in the Middle States. The state constitutions of New England commonly relate to fundamental principles, since each district may protect itself by the town meeting; but outside New England, to assert the rights of localities, state constitutions usually perforce embody particulars. In their fire and police departments, and public school and water supply systems, New England towns lead the rest of the country. "The influence," says Mr. Nelson, "of the town meeting government upon the physical character of the country, upon the highways and bridges, and upon the appearance of the villages, is familiar to all who have traveled through New England. The excellent roads, the stanch bridges, the trim tree-shaded streets, the universal signs of thrift and of the people's pride in the outward aspects of their villages, are too well known to be dwelt upon." In every New England community many of the men are qualified by experience to take charge of a public meeting and conduct its proceedings with some regard to the forms observed in parliamentary bodies. But elsewhere in the Union few of the citizens have any knowledge of such forms and observances. "In New England there is not a voter who may not, and very few voters who do not, actively participate in the work of government. In the other parts of the country hardly any one takes part in public affairs except the office-holder."

John Fiske, in "Civil Government in the United States," (1890), says that "the general tendency toward the spread of township government in the more recently settled parts of the United States is unmistakable." The first western state to adopt the town meeting system was Michigan; but it now prevails in four-fifths of the counties of Illinois; in one-sixth of Missouri, where it was begun in 1879; and in one-third of the counties of Nebraska, which adopted it in 1883; while it has gone much further in Minnesota and Dakota, in which states it has been law since 1878 and 1883, respectively.

"Within its proper sphere," says Fiske, "government by town meeting is the form of government most effectively under watch and control. Everything is done in the full daylight of publicity. The specific objects for which public money is to be appropriated are discussed in the presence of everybody, and any one who disapproves of any of these objects, or of the way in which it is proposed to obtain it, has an opportunity to declare his opinions." "The inhabitant of a New England town is perpetually reminded that 'our government' is 'the people.' Although he may think loosely about the government of his state or the still more remote government at Washington, he is kept pretty close to the facts where local affairs are concerned, and in this there is a political training of no small value."

The same writer notes in the New England towns a tendency to retain good men in office, such as we have seen is the case in Switzerland. "The annual election affords an easy means of dropping an unsatisfactory officer. But in practice nothing has been more common than for the same persons to be re-elected as selectmen or constables or town-clerks for year after year, as long as they are willing or able to serve. The notion that there is anything peculiarly American or democratic in what is known as 'rotation in office' is therefore not sustained by the practice of the New England town, which is the most complete democracy in the world." In another feature is there resemblance to Swiss custom: some of the town officials serve without pay and none receive exorbitant salaries.

The Referendum in States, Cities, Counties, Etc.

Few are aware of the advances which direct legislation has made in state government in the United States. Many facts on this subject, collected by Mr. Ellis P. Oberholtzer, were published in the "Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science," November, 1891. Condensed, this writer's statement is as follows: Constitutional amendments now go to the people for a vote in every state except Delaware. The significance of this fact, and the resemblance of this vote to the Swiss Referendum, are seen when one considers the subject matter of a state constitution. Nowadays, such a constitution usually limits a legislature to a short biennial session and defines in detail what laws the legislature may and may not pass. In fact, then, in adopting a constitution once in ten or twenty years, the voters of a state decide upon admissible legislation. Thus they themselves are the real legislators. Among the matters once left entirely to legislatures, but now commonly dealt with in constitutions, are the following: Prohibiting or regulating the liquor traffic; prohibiting or chartering lotteries; determining tax rates; founding and locating state schools and other state institutions; establishing a legal rate of interest; fixing the salaries of public officials; drawing up railroad and other corporation regulations; and defining the relations of husbands and wives, and of debtors and creditors. In line with all this is a tendency to easy amendment. In nearly all the new states and in those older ones which have recently revised their constitutions, the time in which amendments may be effected is as a rule but half of that formerly required. Where once the approval of two successive legislatures was exacted, now the consent of one is considered sufficient.

In fifteen states, until submitted to a popular vote, no law changing the location of the capital is valid; in seven, no laws establishing banking corporations; in eleven, no laws for the incurrence of debts excepting such as are specified in the constitution, and no excess of "casual deficits" beyond a stipulated sum; in several, no rate of assessment exceeding a figure proportionate to the aggregate valuation of the taxable property. Without the Referendum, Illinois cannot sell its state canal; Minnesota cannot pay interest or principal of the Minnesota railroad; North Carolina cannot extend the state credit to aid any person or corporation, excepting to help certain railroads unfinished in 1876. With the Referendum, Colorado may adopt woman suffrage and create a debt for public buildings; Texas may fix a location for a college for colored youth; Wyoming may decide on the sites for its state university, insane asylum and penitentiary.

Numerous important examples of the Referendum in local matters in the United States, especially in the West, were found by Mr. Oberholtzer. There are many county, city, township, and school district referendums. Nineteen state constitutions guarantee to counties the right to fix by vote of the citizens the location of the county seats. So also usually of county lines, divisions of counties, and like matters. Several western states leave it to a vote of the counties as to when they shall adopt a township organization, with town meetings; several states permit their cities to decide when they shall also be counties. As in the state, there are debt and tax matters that may be passed on only by the people of cities, boroughs, counties, or school districts. Without the Referendum, no municipality in Pennsylvania may contract an aggregate debt beyond 2 per cent of the assessed valuation of its taxable property; no municipalities in certain other states may incur in any year an indebtedness beyond their revenues; no local governments in the new states of the West may raise any loans whatever; none in other states may exceed certain limits in tax rates. With the Referendum, certain Southern communities may make harbor improvements, and other communities may extend the local credit to railroad, water transportation, and similar corporations. The prohibition of the liquor business in a city or county is often left to a popular vote; indeed, "local option" is the commonest form of Referendum. In California any city with more than 10,000 inhabitants may frame a charter for its own government, which, however, must be approved by the legislature. Under this law Stockton, San Jose, Los Angeles, and Oakland have acquired new charters. In the state of Washington, cities of 20,000 may make their own charters without the legislature having any power of veto. Largely, then, such cities make their own laws.

In fact, the vast United States seems to have seen as much of the Referendum as little Switzerland. But the effect of the practice has been largely lost in the great size of this country and in the loose and unsystematized character of the institution as known here.

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In the "American Commonwealth" of James Bryce, a member of Parliament, there is a chapter entitled "Direct Legislation by the People." After reciting many facts similar in character to those given by Mr. Oberholtzer, Mr. Bryce inquires into the practical workings of direct legislation. He finds what are to his mind some "obvious demerits." Of these demerits, such as apply to details he develops in the course of his statements of several cases of Referendum. In summing up, he further points out what seem to him two objections to the principle. One is that direct legislation "tends to lower the authority and sense of responsibility of the legislature." But this is precisely the aim of pure democracy, and from its point of view a merit of the first order. The other objection is, "it refers matters needing much elucidation by debate to the determination of those who cannot, on account of their numbers, meet together for discussion, and many of whom may have never thought about the matter." But why meet together for discussion? Mr. Bryce here overlooks that this is the age of newspaper and telegraph, and that through these sources the facts and much debate on any matter of public interest may be forthcoming on demand. Mr. Bryce, however, sees more advantages than demerits in direct legislation. Of the advantages he remarks: "The improvement of the legislatures is just what the Americans despair of, or, as they would prefer to say, have not time to attend to. Hence they fall back on the Referendum as the best course available under the circumstances of the case and in such a world as the present. They do not claim that it has any great educative effect on the people. But they remark with truth that the mass of the people are equal in intelligence and character to the average state legislator, and are exposed to fewer temptations. The legislator can be 'got at,' the people cannot. The personal interest of the individual legislator in passing a measure for chartering banks or spending the internal improvement fund may be greater than his interest as one of the community in preventing bad laws. It will be otherwise with the bulk of the citizens. The legislator may be subjected by the advocates of women's suffrage or liquor prohibition to a pressure irresistible by ordinary mortals; but the citizens are too numerous to be all wheedled or threatened. Hence they can and do reject proposals which the legislature has assented to. Nor should it be forgotten that in a country where law depends for its force on the consent of the governed, it is eminently desirable that law should not outrun popular sentiment, but have the whole weight of the people's deliverance behind it."

The Initiative and Referendum in Labor Organizations.

The Referendum is well known to the Knights of Labor. For nine years past expressions of opinion have been asked of the local assemblies by the general executive board. The recent decision of the order to enter upon independent political action was made by a vote in response to a circular issued by the General Master Workman. The latter, at the annual convention at Toledo, in November, 1891, recommended that the Referendum form a part of the government machinery throughout the United States. The Knights being in some respects a secret organization, data as to referendary votings are not always made public.

For the past decade or longer several of the national and international trades-unions of America have had the Initiative and Referendum in operation. Within the past five years the institution in various forms has been taken up by other unions, and at present it is in more or less practice in the following bodies, all associated with the American Federation of Labor:

No. of No. of Members, National or International Union. Local Unions. December, 1891.

Journeymen Bakers 81 17,500 Brewery Workmen 61 9,500 United Broth'h'd of Carpenters and Joiners 740 65,000 Amalgamated Carpenters and Joiners 40 2,800 Cigar-Makers 310 27,000 Carriage and Wagon Makers 11 2,000 Garment Workers 24 4,000 Granite Cutters 75 20,000 Tailors 170 17,000 Typographical Union 290 28,000 ———- Total 192,800

Direct legislation has long been familiar to the members of the International Cigar-Makers' Union. Today, amendments to its constitution, the acts of its executives, and even the resolutions passed at delegate conventions, are submitted to a vote by ballot in the local unions. The nineteenth annual convention, held at Indianapolis, September, 1891, provisionally adopted 114 amendments to the constitution and 33 resolutions on various matters. Though some of the latter were plainly perfunctory in character, all of these 147 propositions were printed in full in the "Official Journal" for October, and voted on in the 310 unions throughout America in November. The Initiative is introduced in this international union through local unions. When twenty of the latter have passed favorably on a measure, it must be submitted to the entire body. An idea of the financial transactions of the Cigar-Makers' International Union may be gathered from its total expenditures in the past twelve years and a half. In all, it has disbursed in that time $1,426,208. Strikes took $469,158; sick benefits, $439,010; death benefits, $109,608; traveling benefits, $372,455, and out of work benefits, $35,795. The advance of the Referendum in this great union has been very gradual. It began in 1877 with voting on constitutional amendments. The most recent, and perhaps last possible, step was to transfer the election of the general executive board from the annual convention to the entire body.

The United Garment Workers of America practice direct legislation under Article 24 of their constitution, which is printed under the caption, "Referendum and Initiative." It prescribes two methods of Initiative. One is that three or more local unions, if of different states, may instruct the general secretary to call for a referendary vote in the unions of the national organization. The other is that the general executive board must so submit all questions of general importance. The general secretary issues the call within two weeks after the petition for a vote reaches him, and the vote is taken within six months afterward. Eighteen propositions passed by the annual convention of this union at Boston, in November, 1891, were submitted to a vote of the local unions in December.

In 1890, the local unions of the International Typographical Union, then numbering nearly 290, voted on twenty-five propositions submitted from the annual convention. In 1891, fourteen propositions were submitted. Of the latter, one authorized the formation of unions of editors and reporters; another directed the payments to the President to be a salary of $1,400, actual railroad fares by the shortest possible routes, and $3 a day for hotel expenses; another rescinded a six months' exemption from a per capita tax for newly formed unions; another provided for a funeral benefit of $50 on the death of a member; by another an assessment of ten cents a month was levied for the home for superannuated and disabled union printers. All fourteen were adopted, the majorities, however, varying from 558 to 8,758.

Is Complete Direct Legislation in Government Practicable?

The conservative citizen, contented with the existing state of things, is wont to brush aside proposed innovations in government. To do so he avails himself of a familiar stock of objections. But have they not all their answer in the facts thus far brought forth in these chapters? Will he entertain no "crazy theories"? Here is offered practice, proven in varied and innumerable tests to be thoroughly feasible. He is opposed to foreign institutions? Here is a time-honored American institution. He holds that men cannot be made better by law? Here are facts to show that with change of law justice has been promoted. He deems democracy feebleness? Here has been shown its stalwart strength. He is sure workingmen are incapable of managing large affairs? Let him look to the cigar-makers—their capacity for organization, their self-restraint as an industrial army, the soundness of their financial system, the mastery of their employers in the eight-hour question. He believes the intricacies of taxation and estimates of appropriation beyond the average mind? He may see a New England town meeting in a single day dispose of scores of items and, with each settled to a nicety, vote away fifty thousand dollars. He fears state legislation, by reason of its complexity, would prove a puzzle to the ordinary voter? Why, then, are the more vexatious subjects so often shifted by the legislators to the people?

The conservative objector is, first, apt to object before fully examining what he dissents from, and, secondly, prone to have in mind ideal conditions with which to compare the new methods commended to him. In the matter of legislation, he dreams of a body of high-minded lawgivers, just, wise, unselfish, and not of legislators as they commonly are. He forgets that Congress and the legislatures have each a permanent lobby, buying privileges for corporations, and otherwise influencing and corrupting members. He forgets the party caucus, at which the individual member is swamped in the majority; the "strikers," members employing their powers in blackmail; the Black Horse Cavalry, a combination of members in state legislatures formed to enrich themselves by plunder through passing or killing bills. He forgets the scandalous jobs put through to reward political workers; the long lists of doubtful or vicious bills reviewed in the press after each session of every legislative body; the pamphlets issued by reform bodies in which perhaps three-fourths of a legislature is named as untrustworthy, and the price of many of the members given. The City Reform Club of New York published in 1887: "As with the city's representatives of 1886, the chief objects of most of the New York members were to make money in the 'legislative business,' to advance their own political fortunes, and to promote the interests of their factions." And where is the state legislature of which much the same things cannot be said?

The conservative objector may not know how the most important bills are often passed in Congress. He may not know that until toward the close of a session the business of Congress is political in the party sense rather than in the governing sense; that on the floor the play is usually conducted for effect on the public; that in committees, measures into which politics enter are made up either on compromise or for partisan purposes; that, finally, in the last days of a session, the work of legislation is a scramble. The second day before the adjournment of the last Congress was thus described in a New York daily paper: "Congress has been working like a gigantic threshing machine all day long, and at this hour there is every prospect of an all-night session of both houses. Helter-skelter, pell-mell, the 'unfinished business' has been poured into the big hopper, and in less time than it takes to tell it, it has come out at the other end completed legislation, lacking only the President's signature to fit it for the statute books. Public bills providing for the necessary expenses of the government, private bills galore having as their beneficiaries favored individuals, jobbery in the way of unnecessary public buildings, railroad charters, and bridge construction—all have been rushed through at lightning speed, and the end is not yet. A majority of the House members, desperate because their power and influence terminate with the end of this brief session, and a partisan Speaker, whose autocratic rule will prevail but thirty-six short hours longer, have left nothing unattempted whereby party friends and proteges might be benefited. It is safe to say that aside from a half dozen measures of real importance and genuine merit the country would be no worse off should every other bill not yet acted upon fail of passage. Certain it is that large sums of money would be saved to the Government." And what observer does not know that scenes not unlike this are repeated in almost every legislature in its closing hours?

As between such manner of even national legislation on the one hand, and on the other the entire citizenship voting (as soon would be the fact under direct legislation) on but what properly should be law—and on principles, on policies, and on aggregates in appropriations—would there be reason for the country to hesitate in choosing?

Among the plainest signs of the times in America is the popular distrust of legislators. The citizens are gradually and surely resuming the lawmaking and money-spending power unwisely delegated in the past to bodies whose custom it is to abuse the trust. "Government" has come to mean a body of representatives with interests as often as not opposed to those of the great mass of electors. Were legislation direct, the circle of its functions would speedily be narrowed; certainly they would never pass legitimate bounds at the urgency of a class interested in enlarging its own powers and in increasing the volume of public outlay. Were legislation direct, the sphere of every citizen would be enlarged; each would consequently acquire education in his role, and develop a lively interest in the public affairs in part under his own management. And what so-called public business can be right in principle, or expedient in policy, on which the American voter may not pass in person? To reject his authority in politics is to compel him to abdicate his sovereignty. That done, the door is open to pillage of the treasury, to bribery of the representative, and to endless interference with the liberties of the individual.



THE WAY OPEN TO PEACEFUL REVOLUTION.

What I set out in the first chapter to do seems to me done. I essayed to show how the political "machine," its "ring," "boss," and "heeler," might be abolished, and how, consequently, the American plutocracy might be destroyed, and government simplified and contracted to the field of its natural operations. These ends achieved, a social revolution would be accomplished—a revolution without loss of a single life or destruction of a dollar's worth of property.

Whoever has read the foregoing chapters has seen these facts established:

(1) That much in proportion as the whole body of citizens take upon themselves the direction of public affairs, the possibilities for political and social parasitism disappear. The "machine" becomes without effective uses, the trade of the politician is rendered undesirable, and the privileges of the monopolist are withdrawn.

(2) That through the fundamental principles of democracy in practice—the Initiative and the Referendum—great bodies of people, with the agency of central committees, may formulate all necessary law and direct its execution.

(3) That the difference between a representative government and a democracy is radical. The difference lies in the location of the sovereignty of society. The citizens who assign the lawmaking power to officials surrender in a body their collective sovereignty. That sovereignty is then habitually employed by the lawgivers to their own advantage and to that of a twin governing class, the rich, and to the detriment of the citizenship in general and especially the poor. But when the sovereignty rests permanently with the citizenship, there evolves a government differing essentially from representative government. It is that of mere stewardship and the regulation indispensable to society.

The Social Forces Ready for Our Methods.

Now that our theory of social reform is fully substantiated by fact, our methods shown to be in harmony with popular sentiment, our idea of democratic government clearly defined, and our final aim political justice, there remains some consideration of early possible practical steps in line with these principles and of the probable trend of events afterward.

Having practical work in view, we may first take some account of the principal social forces which may be rallied in support of our methods:—

To begin with: Sincere men who have abandoned hope of legislative reform may be called to renewed effort. Many such men have come to regard politics as inseparable from corruption. They have witnessed the tediousness and unprofitableness of seeking relief through legislators, and time and again have they seen the very officials elected to bring about reforms go over to the powers that exploit the masses. They have seen in the course of time the tricks of partisan legislators almost invariably win as against the wishes of the masses. They know that in politics there is little study of the public needs, but merely a practice of the ignoble arts of the professional politician. Here, however, the proposed social reorganization depends, not on representatives, but on the citizens themselves; and the means by which the citizens may fully carry out their purposes have been developed. A fact, too, of prime importance: Where heretofore in many localities the people have temporarily overthrown politician and plutocrat, only to be themselves defeated in the end, every point gained by the masses in direct legislation may be held permanently.

Further: Repeatedly, of late years, new parties have risen to demand justice in government and improvement in the economic situation. One such movement defeated but makes way for another. Proof, this, that the spirit of true reform is virile and the heart of the nation pure. The progress made, in numbers and organization, before the seeds of decay were sown in the United Labor party, the Union Labor party, the Greenback-Labor party, the People's party of 1884, and various third-party movements, testify to the readiness of earnest thousands to respond, even on the slightest promise of victory, to the call for radical reform. That in such movements the masses are incorruptible is shown in the fact that in every instance one of the chief causes of failure has been doubt in the integrity of leaders given to machine methods. But in direct legislation, machine leaders profit nothing for themselves, hold no reins of party, can sell no votes, and can command no rewards for workers.

Again: The vast organizations of the Knights of Labor and the trades-unions in the American Federation of Labor are evidence of the willingness and ability of wage-earners to cope practically with national problems. And at this point is to be observed a fact of capital significance to advocates of pure democracy. Whereas, in independent political movements, sooner or later a footing has been obtained by a machine, resulting in disintegration, in the trades organization, while political methods may occasionally corrupt leaders, the politician labor leader uniformly finds his fellow workmen turning their backs on him. The organized workers not only distrust the politician but detest political chicanery. Such would equally be the case did the wage-workers carry into the political field the direct power they exert in their unions. And in politics this never-failing, incorruptible power of the whole mass of organized wage-workers may be exerted by direct legislation. Therewith may be had politics without politicians. As direct legislation advances, the machine must retire.

Here, then, with immediate results in prospect from political action, lies encouragement of the highest degree—alike to the organized workers, to the men grown hopeless of political reform, and to the men in active rebellion against the two great machine ridden parties.

Encouragement founded on reason is an inestimable practical result. Here, not only may rational hope for true reform be inspired; a lively certainty, based on ascertained fact, may be felt. All men of experience who have read these pages will have seen confirmed something of their own observations in direct legislation, and will have accepted as plainly logical sequences the developments of the institution in Switzerland. The New Englander will have learned how the purifying principles of his town meeting have been made capable of extension. The member of a labor organization will have observed how the simple democracy of his union or assembly may be transferred to the State. The "local optionist" will have recognized, working in broader and more varied fields, a well tried and satisfactory instrument. The college man will have recalled the fact that wherever has gone the Greek letter fraternity, there, in each society as a whole, and in each chapter with respect to every special act, have gone the Initiative and the Referendum. And every member of any body of equal associates must perceive that the first, natural circumstance to the continued existence of that body in its integrity must be that each individual may propose a measure and that the majority may accept or reject it; and this is the simple principle of direct legislation. Moreover, any mature man, east or west, in any locality, may recall how within his experience a community's vote has satisfactorily put vexatious questions at rest. With the recognition of every such fact, hope will rise and faith in the proposed methods be made more firm.

Abolition of the Lawmaking Monopoly.

To radical reformers further encouragement must come with continued reflection on the importance to them of direct legislation. In general, such reformers have failed to recognize that, before any project of social reconstruction can be followed out to the end, there stands a question antecedent to every other. It is the abolition of the lawmaking monopoly. Until that monopoly is ended, no law favorable to the masses can be secure. Direct legislation would destroy this parent of monopolies. It gone, then would follow the chiefer evils of governmental mechanism—class rule, ring rule, extravagance, jobbery, nepotism, the spoils system, every jot of the professional trading politician's influence. To effect these ends, all schools of political reformers might unite. For immediate purposes, help might come even from that host of conservatives who believe all will be well if officials are honest. Direct majority rule attained, inviting opportunities for radical work would soon lie open. How, may readily be seen.

The New England town collects its own taxes; it manages its local schools, roads, bridges, police, public lighting and water supply. In similar affairs the Swiss commune is autonomous. On the Pacific coast a tendency is to accord to places of 10,000 or 20,000 inhabitants their own charters. Throughout the country, in many instances, towns and counties settle for themselves questions of prohibition, license, and assessments; questions of help to corporations and of local public improvement. Thus in measure as the Referendum comes into play does the circumscription practicing it become a complete community. In other words, with direct legislation rises local self-government.

The Principles of Local Self-Government.

From even the conservative point of view, local self-government has many advantages. In this country, the glaring evils of the State, especially those forming obstacles to political improvement and social progress, come down from sources above the people. Under the existing centralization whole communities may protest against governmental abuses, be practically a unit in opposition to them, and yet be hopelessly subject to them. Such centralization is despotism. It forms as well the opportunity for the demagogue of to-day—for him who as suppliant for votes is a wheedler and as politician and lawgiver a trickster. Centralization confuses the voter, baffles the honest newspaper, foments partisanship, and cheats the masses of their will. On the other hand, to the extent that local independence is acquired, a democratic community minimizes every such evil. In naturally guarding itself against external interference, it seeks in its connection with other communities the least common political bonds. It is watchful of the home rule principle. Under its local self-government, government plainly becomes no more than the management of what are wholly public interests. The justice of lopping off from government all matters not the common affairs of the citizens then becomes apparent. The character of every man in the community being known, public duties are intrusted with men who truly represent the citizens. The mere demagogue is soon well known. Bribery becomes treachery to one's neighbor. The folly of partisanship is seen. Public issues, usually relating to but local matters, are for the most part plain questions. The press, no longer absorbed in vague, far-off politics, aids, not the politicians, but the citizens. Reasons, every one of these, for even the conservative to aid in establishing local self-government.

But the radical, looking further than the conservative, will see far greater opportunities. In local self-government with direct legislation, every possibility for his success that hope can suggest may be perceived. If not in one locality, then in another, whatever political projects are attainable within such limits by his school of philosophy may be converted by him and his co-workers from theory to fact. Thence on, if his philosophy is practicable, the field should naturally widen.

The political philosophy I would urge on my fellow-citizens is summed up in the neglected fundamental principle of this republic: Freedom and equal rights. The true point of view from which to see the need of the application of this principle is from the position of the unemployed, propertyless wage-worker. How local self-government and direct legislation might promptly invest this slave of society with his primary rights, and pave the way for further rights, may, step by step, be traced.

The Relation of Wages to Political Conditions.

The wages scale pivots on the strike. The employer's order for a reduction is his strike; to be effective, a reserve of the unemployed must be at his command. The wage-worker's demand for an increase is his strike; to be effective it must be backed up by the indispensableness of his services to the employer. Accordingly as the worker forces up the scale of wages, he is the more free, independent, and gainer of his product. To show the most direct way to the conditions in which workers may command steady work and raise their wages, this book is written. For the wages question equitably settled, the foundation for every remaining social reform is laid.

To-day, in the United States, in scores, nay, hundreds, of industrial communities the wage-working class is in the majority. The wage-workers commonly believe, what is true, that they are the victims of injustice. As yet, however, no project for restoring their rights has been successful. All the radical means suggested have been beyond their reach. But in so far as a single community may exercise equal rights and self-government, through these means it may approximate to just social arrangements.

Any American city of 50,000 inhabitants may be taken as illustrative of all American industrial communities. In such a city, the economical and political conditions are typical. The immediate commercial interests of the buyers of labor, the employers, are opposed to those of the sellers of labor, the employed. To control the price of labor, each of these parties in the labor market resorts to whatever measures it finds within command. The employers in many branches of industry actually, and employers in general tacitly, combine against the labor organizations. On the wage-workers' side, these organizations are the sole means, except a few well-nigh futile laws, yet developed to raise wages and shorten the work day. In case of a strike, the employers, to assist the police in intimidating the strikers, may engage a force of armed so-called detectives. Simply, perhaps, for inviting non-unionists to cease work, the strikers are subject to imprisonment. Trial for conspiracy may follow arrest, the judges allied by class interests with the employers. The newspapers, careful not to offend advertisers, and looking to the well-to-do for the mass of their readers, may be inclined to exert an influence against the strikers. The solidarity of the wage-workers incomplete, even many of these may regard the fate of the strikers with indifference. In such situation, a strike of the wage-workers may be made to appear to all except those closely concerned as an assault on the bulwarks of society.

But what are the bulwarks of society directly arrayed against striking wage-workers? They are a ring of employers, a ring of officials enforcing class law made by compliant representatives at the bidding of shrewd employers, and a ring of public sentiment makers—largely professional men whose hopes lie with wealthy patrons. Behind these outer barriers, and seldom affected by even widespread strikes, lies the citadel in which dwell the monopolists.

Such, in outline, are the intermingled political and economic conditions common to all American industrial centres. But above every other fact, one salient fact appears: On the wage-workers falls the burthen of class law. On what, then, depends the wiping out of such law? Certainly on nothing else so much as on the force of the wage-workers themselves. To deprive their opponents of unjust legal advantages, and to invest themselves with just rights of which they have been deprived, is a task, outside their labor organizations, to be accomplished mainly by the wage-workers. It is their task as citizens—their political task. With direct legislation and local self-government, it is, in considerable degree, a feasible, even an easy, task. The labor organizations might supply the framework for a political party, as was done in New York city in 1886. Then, as was the case in that campaign, when the labor party polled 68,000 votes, even non-unionists might throw in the reinforcement of their otherwise hurtful strength. Success once in sight, the organized wage-workers would surely find citizens of other classes helping to swell their vote. And in the straightforward politics of direct legislation, the labor leaders who command the respect of their fellows might, without danger to their character and influence, go boldly to the front.

The Wage-Workers as a Political Majority.

Suppose that as far as possible our industrial city of 50,000 inhabitants should exercise self-government with direct legislation. Various classes seeking to reform common abuses, certain general reforms would immediately ensue. If the city should do what the Swiss have done, it would speedily rid its administration of unnecessary office-holders, reduce the salaries of its higher officials, and rescind outstanding franchise privileges. If the municipality should have power to determine its own methods of taxation, as is now in some respects the case in Massachusetts towns, and toward which end a movement has begun in New York, it would probably imitate the Swiss in progressively taxing the higher-priced real estate, inheritances, and incomes. If the wage-workers, a majority in a direct vote, should demand in all public work the short hour day, they would get it, perhaps, as in the Rockland town meeting, without question. Further, the wage-workers might vote anti-Pinkerton ordinances, compel during strikes the neutrality of the police, and place judges from their own ranks in at least the local courts. These tasks partly under way, a change in prevailing social ideas would pass over the community. The press, echo, not of the widest spread sentiments, but of controlling public opinion, would open its columns to the wage-working class come to power. And, as is ever so when the wage-workers are aggressive and probably may be dominant, the social question would burn.

The Entire Span of Equal Rights.

The social question uppermost, the wage-workers—now in political ascendency, and bent on getting the full product of their labor—would seek further to improve their vantage ground. Sooner or later they would inevitably make issue of the most urgent, the most persistent, economic evil, local as well as general, the inequality of rights in the land. They would affirm that, were the land of the community in use suitable to the general needs, the unemployed would find work and the total of production be largely increased. They would point to the vacant lots in and about the city, held on speculation, commonly in American cities covering a greater area than the land improved, and denounce so unjust a system of land tenure. They could demonstrate that the price of the land represented for the most part but the power of the owners to wring from the producers of the city, merely for space on which to live and work, a considerable portion of their product. They could with reason declare that the withholding from use of the vacant land of the locality was the main cause of local poverty. And they would demand that legal advantages in the local vacant lands should forthwith cease.

In bringing to an end the local land monopoly, however, justice could be done the landholders. Unquestionably the fairest measure to them, and at the same time the most direct method of giving to city producers, if not free access to land, the next practicable thing to it, would be for the municipality to convert a part of the local vacant land into public property, and to open it in suitable plots to such citizens as should become occupiers. Sufficient land for this purpose might be acquired through eminent domain. The purchase money could be forthcoming from several sources—from progressive taxation in the direct forms already mentioned, from the city's income from franchises, and from the savings over the wastes of administration under present methods.

From the standpoint of equal rights there need be no difficulty in meeting the arguments certain to be brought against this proposed course—such sophistical arguments as that it is not the business of a government to take property from some citizens to give to others. If the unemployed, propertyless wage-worker has a right to live, he has the right to sustain life. To sustain life independently of other men's permission, access to natural resources is essential. This primary right being denied the wage-workers as a class, any or all of whom, if unemployed, might soon be propertyless, they might in justice proceed to enforce it. To enforce it by means involving so little friction as those here proposed ought to win, not opposition, but approval.

Equal rights once conceded as just, this reasoning cannot be refuted. Discussed in economic literature since before the day of Adam Smith, it has withstood every form of assault. If it has not been acted on in the Old World, it is because the wage-workers there, ignorant and in general deprived of the right to vote, have been helpless; and if not in the New, because, first, until within recent years the free western lands, attracting the unemployed and helping to maintain wages, in a measure gave labor access to nature, and, secondly, since the practical exhaustion of the free public domain the industrial wage-workers have not perceived how, through politics, to carry out their convictions on the land question.

Our reasoning is further strengthened by law and custom in state and nation. In nearly every state, the constitution declares that the original and ultimate ownership of the land lies with all its people; and hence the method of administering the land is at all times an open public question. As to the nation at large, its settled policy and long-continued custom support the principle that all citizens have inalienable rights in the land. Instead of selling the national domain in quantities to suit purchasers, the government has held it open free to agricultural laborers, literally millions of men being thus given access to the soil. Moreover, in thirty-seven of the forty-four states, execution for debt cannot entirely deprive a man of his homestead, the value exempt in many of the states being thousands of dollars. Thus the general welfare has dictated the building up and the securing of a home for every laboring citizen.

In line, then, with established American principles is the proposition for municipal lands. And if municipalities have extended to capitalists privileges of many kinds, even granting them gratis sites for manufactories, and for terms of years exempting such real estate from taxation, why not accord to the wage-workers at least their primary natural rights? If any property be exempted from taxation, why not the homesite below a certain fixed value? And if, for the public benefit, municipalities provide parks, museums, and libraries, why not give each producer a homesite—a footing on the earth? He who has not this is deprived of the first right to do that by which he must live, namely, labor.

Effects of Municipal Land.

A city public domain, open to citizen occupiers under just stipulations, would in several directions have far-reaching results.

Should this domain be occupied by, say, one thousand families of a population of 50,000, an immediate result, affecting the whole city, would be a fall in rents. In fact, the mere existence of the public domain, with a probability that his tenants would remove to it, might cause a landlord to reduce his rents. Besides, the value of all land, in the city and about it, held on speculation, would fall. Save in instances of particular advantage, the price of unimproved residence lots would gravitate toward the cost, all things considered, of residence lots in the public domain. This, for these reasons: The corner in land would be broken. Home builders would pay a private owner no more for a lot than the cost of a similar one in the public area. As houses went up on the public domain, the chances of landholders to sell to builders would be diminished. Sellers of land, besides competing with the public land, would then compete with increased activity with one another. Finally, just taxation of their land, valueless as a speculation, would oblige landowners to sell it or to put it to good use.

Even should the growth of the city be rapid, the value of land in private hands could in general advance but little, if at all. With the actual demands of an increased population, the public domain might from time to time be enlarged; but not, it may reasonably be assumed, at a rate that would give rise to an upward tendency of prices in the face of the above-mentioned factors contributing to a downward tendency.

At this point it may be well to remember that, conditions of land purchase by the city being subject to the Referendum, the buying could hardly be accompanied by corrupt bargaining.

When the effect of the public land in depressing land values, in other words in enabling producers to retain the more of their product, was seen, private as well as public agencies might aid in enlarging the scope of that effect. The philanthropic might transfer land to the municipality, preferring to help restore just social conditions rather than to aid in charities that leave the world with more poor than ever; the city might provide for a gradual conversion, in the course of time, of all the land within its limits to public control, first selecting, with the end in view, tracts of little market value, which, open to occupiers, would assist in keeping down the value of lands held privately.

But the more striking results of city public land would lie in another direction. The spontaneous efforts of each individual to increase and to secure the product of his labor would turn the current of production away from the monopolists and toward the producers. With a lot in the public domain, a wage-worker might soon live in his own cottage. As the settler often did in the West, to acquire a home he might first build two or four rooms as the rear, and, living in it, with later savings put up the front. A house and a vegetable garden, with the increased consequent thrift rarely in such situation lacking, would add a large fraction to his year's earnings. Pasture for a cow in suburban city land would add yet more. Then would this wage-earner, now his own landlord and in part a direct producer from the soil, withdraw his children from the labor market, where they compete for work perhaps with himself, and send them on to school.

What would now happen should the wage-workers of the city demand higher wages? It is hardly to be supposed that any industrial centre could reach the stage of radical reform contemplated at this point much in advance of others. When the labor organizations throughout the country take hold of direct legislation, and taste of its successes, they will nowhere halt. They will no more hesitate than does a conquering army. Learning what has been done in Switzerland, they will go the lengths of the Swiss radicals and, with more elbow room, further. Hence, when in one industrial centre the governing workers should seek better terms, similar demands from fellow laborers, as able to enforce them, would be heard elsewhere.

The employer of our typical city, even now often unable to find outside the unions the unemployed labor he must have, would then, should he attempt it, to a certainty fail. The thrifty wage-working householder, today a tenant fearful of loss of work, could then strike and stay out. The situation would resemble that in the West twenty years ago, when open land made the laborer his own master and wages double what they are now. Wages, then, would perforce be moved upward, and hours be shortened, and a long step be made toward that state of things in which two employers offer work to one employe. And, legal and social forces no longer irresistibly opposed to the wage-workers, thenceforth wages would advance. At every stage they would tend to the maximum possible under the improved conditions. In the end, under fully equal conditions, everywhere, for all classes, the producer would gather to himself the full product of his labor.

The average business man, too, of the city of our illustration, himself a producer—that is, a help to the consumer—would under the better conditions reap new opportunities. Far less than now would he fear failure through bad debts and hard times; through the wage-workers' larger earnings, he would obtain a larger volume of trade; he would otherwise naturally share in the generally increased production; and he would participate in the common benefits from the better local government.

But the disappearance of the local monopolist would be predestined. The owner of local franchises would already have gone. The local land monopolist would have seen his land values diminished. In every such case, the monopolist's loss would be the producer's gain. The aggregate annual earnings of all the city's producers (the wage-workers, the land-workers, and the men in productive business) would rise toward their natural just aggregate—all production. As between the various classes within the city, a condition approximating to justice in political and economic arrangements would now prevail.

What would thus be likely to happen in our typical city of 50,000 inhabitants would also, in greater or less degree, be possible in all industrial towns and cities. In every such place, self-government and direct legislation could solve the more pressing immediate phases of the labor question and create the local conditions favorable to remodeling, and as far as possible abolishing, the superstructure of government.

Wider Applications of These Principles and Methods.

The political and economic arrangements extending beyond the control of the municipalities would now, if they had not done so before, challenge attention. In taking up with reform in this wider field, the industrial wage-workers would come in contact with those farmers who are demanding radical reforms in state and nation. As the sure instrument for the citizenship of a state, direct legislation could again with confidence be employed. No serious opposition, in fact or reason, could be brought against it. That the mass of voters might prove too unwieldy for the method would be an assertion to be instantly refuted by Swiss statistics. In Zurich, the most radically democratic canton of Switzerland, the people number 339,000; the voters, 80,000. In Berne, which has the obligatory Referendum, the population is 539,000. And it must not be overlooked that the entire Swiss Confederation, with 600,000 voters, now has both Initiative and Referendum. Hence, in any state of the Union, direct legislation on general affairs may be regarded as immediately practicable, while in many of the smaller states the obligatory Referendum may be applied to particulars. And even in the most populous states, when special legislation should be cast aside, and local legislation left to the localities affected, complete direct legislation need be no more unmanageable than in the smallest.

United farmers, wage-workers, and other classes of citizens, in the light of these facts, might naturally demand direct legislation. Foreseeing that in time such union will be inevitable, what more natural for the producing classes in revolt than to unite today in voting, if not for other propositions, at least for direct legislation and home rule? These forces combined in any state, it seems improbable that certain political and economic measures now supported by farmer and wage-worker alike could long fail to become law. Already, under the principle that "rights should be equal to all and special privileges be had by none," farmers' and wage-workers' parties are making the following demands: That taxation be not used to build up one interest or class at the expense of another; that the public revenues be no more than necessary for government expenditures; that the agencies of transportation and communication be operated at the lowest cost of service; that no privileges in banking be permitted; that woman have the vote wherever justice gives it to man; that no force of police, marshals, or militiamen not commissioned by their home authorities be permitted anywhere to be employed; that monopoly in every form be abolished and the personal rights of every individual respected. These demands are all in agreement with the spirit of freedom. Along the lines they mark out, the future successes of the radical social reformers will most probably come. But if, in response to a call nowadays frequently heard, the many incipient parties should decide to unite on one or a few things, is it not clear that in natural order the first reforms needed are direct legislation and local self-government?

To a party logically following the principle of equal rights, the progress in Switzerland under direct legislation would form an invaluable guide. The Swiss methods of controlling the railroads and banks of issue, and of operating the telegraph and telephone services, deserve study and, to the extent that our institutions admit, imitation. The organization of the Swiss State and its subdivisions is simple and natural. The success of their executive councils may in this country assist in raising up the power of the people as against one man power. The fact that the cantons have no senates and that a second chamber is an obstacle to direct legislation may here hasten the abolition of these nurseries of aristocracy.

With the advance of progress under direct legislation, attention would doubtless be attracted in the United States, as it has been in Switzerland, to the nicer shades of justice to minorities and to the broader fields of internal improvement. As in the cantons of Ticino and Neuchatel, our legislative bodies might be opened to minority representatives. As in the Swiss Confederation, the great forests might be declared forever the inheritance of the nation. What public lands yet remain in each state might be withheld from private ownership except on occupancy and use, and the area might be so increased as to enable every producer desiring it to exercise the natural right of free access to the soil. Then the right to labor, now being demanded through the Initiative by the Swiss workingmen's party, might here be made an admitted fact. And as is now also being done in Switzerland, the public control might be extended to water powers and similar resources of nature.

Thus in state and nation might practicable radical reforms make their way. From the beginning, as has been seen, benefits would be widespread. It might not be long before the most crying social evils were at an end. Progressive taxation and abolition of monopoly privileges would cause the great private fortunes of the country to melt away, to add to the producers' earnings. On a part of the soil being made free of access, the land-hungry would withdraw from the cities, relieving the overstocked labor markets. Poverty of the able-bodied willing to work might soon be even more rare than in this country half a century ago, since methods of production at that time were comparatively primitive and the free land only in the West. If Switzerland, small in area, naturally a poor country, and with a dense population, has gone far toward banishing pauperism and plutocracy, what wealth for all might not be reckoned in America, so fertile, so broad, so sparsely populated!

And thus the stages are before us in the course of which the coming just society may gradually be established—that society in which the individual shall attain his highest liberty and development, and consequently his greatest happiness. As lovers of freedom even now foresee, in that perfect society each man will be master of himself; each will act on his own initiative and control the full product of his toil. In that society, the producer's product will not, as now, be diminished by interest, unearned profits, or monopoly rent of natural resources. Interest will tend to disappear because the products of labor in the hands of every producer will be abundant—so abundant that, instead of a borrower paying interest for a loan, a lender may at times pay, as for an accommodation, for having his products preserved. Unearned profits will tend to disappear because, no monopolies being in private hands, and free industry promoting voluntary cooeperation, few opportunities will exist for such profits. Monopoly rent will disappear because, the natural right to labor on the resources of nature made a legal right, no man will be able to exact from another a toll for leave to labor. Whatever rent may arise from differences in the qualities of natural resources will be made a community fund, perhaps to be substituted for taxes or to be divided among the producers.

The natural political bond in such a society is plain. Wherein he interferes with no other man, every individual possessing faculty will be regarded as his own supreme sovereign. Free, because land is free, when he joins a community he will enter into social relations with its citizens by contract. He will legislate (form contracts) with the rest of his immediate community in person. Every community, in all that relates peculiarly to itself, will be self-governing. Where one community shall have natural political bonds with another, or in any respect form with several others a greater community, the circumscription affected will legislate through central committees and a direct vote of the citizenship. Executives and other officials will be but stewards. In a society so constituted, communities that reject the elements of political success will languish; free men will leave them. The communities that accept the elements of success, becoming examples through their prosperity, will be imitated; and thus the momentum of progress will be increased. Communities free, state boundaries as now known will be wiped out; and in the true light of rights in voting—the rights of associates in a contract to express their choice—few questions will affect wide territories. Rarely will any question be, in the sense the word is now used, national; the ballot-box may never unite the citizens of the Atlantic coast with those of the Pacific. Yet, in this decomposition of the State into its natural units—in this resolving of society into its constituent elements—may be laid the sole true, natural, lasting basis of the universal republic, the primary principle of which can be no other thing than freedom.



INDEX.

A

Aargau, 12, 13

Abolition of the lawmaking monopoly, 100

"A Concept of Political Justice", i

Adams, Sir Francis Ottiwell ("The Swiss Confederation"), iii

Alcohol, State monopoly, Switzerland, 59

Appenzell, 8, 13, 65

Area of Switzerland, 14, 48

"Arena", 27

Army, a democratic, 41, 42

Assembly, Federal, Switzerland, 22, 35

B

Bale, 12, 13, 61

Banking, Switzerland, 54

Berne, 10, 12, 13, 61, 115

Bryce, James, "American Commonwealth", 85

Buerkli, Carl, 16

C

Canton, organization of the, 34

Cantons (states), names of the twenty-two, 13

Cigar-Makers' Union, 87, 88

Climate, Switzerland, 48

Communal lands, 63, 70

Communal meeting, the, 7, 32, 33 subjects covered at, 8 organization, 32

Communes (townships) 2,706 in number, 7

Congress (Federal Assembly), Switzerland, 22, 35

Congress, United States, at work, 92

Considerant, Victor, 16

Constitutions, revision of Swiss, 23 spirit of Swiss, 31

D

Dates—First Swiss Constitution, 14 Federal Referendum began, 14 Federal Initiative adopted, 14 cantonal Referendum began, 14 progress of cantonal Referendum, 15 French theorists' discussion of Referendum, 14 cantonal Referendum established in Zurich, 16 New England town meeting, 80

Debts, public, Switzerland, 57

Democracy vs. representative government, 5

Dicey, A.V., 28

Diet, 10, 37

Droz, Numa, 19

E

Elections, semi-annual, 20

Environment of the Swiss citizen, 31

Equal rights, 107

Executive councils, Swiss, 36, 37, 40

F

Facts established by this book, 95

Fiske, John, on town meeting, 80

Freedom in Switzerland, 57

Freiburg, 12

G

Garment Workers, United, 88

Geneva, 12, 13, 61

Glarus, 12, 13, 65, 66, 67

Grand Council, 18, 20, 34

Grisons, 12, 13, 61

H

Highways, Switzerland, 50

I

Illiteracy in Switzerland, 27

Immigration into Switzerland, 70

Initiative and Referendum in labor organizations, 87

Initiative, cantonal, 11 Federal, 22 not a simple petition, 22 what it is, 10

Instruction in Switzerland, 27

J

Jamin, P, 17

Jesuits expelled from Switzerland, 58

Judiciary, Swiss, 40

Jurors, Swiss, elected, 40

L

Land and climate, Switzerland, 47

Land, tenure and distribution of, Switzerland, 63, 70 Public, 64, 65

Landsgemeinde, 8, 63

Languages in Switzerland, 13

Legislation by representatives, 92

Legislators, pay of Swiss, 35

Legislatures in Switzerland, 34

Local self-government, 101

Lucerne, 12, 13

M

Machines kill third parties, 98

McCrackan, W.D., 27

Military system, Swiss, 42, 43

Moses, Prof. Bernard ("The Federal Government of Switzerland"), iii

Municipal land, 110

N

Nelson, Henry Loomis, on the town meeting, 79

Neuchatel, 12, 13, 61

New England town meeting, 72

O

Oberholtzer, Ellis P., on Referendum in the United States, 82

Objections to the optional Referendum, 18

Obligatory and optional Referendum, 13, 17

Obligatory Referendum in Zurich, 20

One-man power unknown in Switzerland, 34

P

Parliamentary government abolished, 30

Political status in Switzerland, 25

Population, Switzerland, cantons, cities, 13, 14

Post-office, Switzerland, 49

Poverty in Switzerland, 68

President of the Confederation, 38

Press, the Swiss, 26

Principles of a free society, 25

Proportional representation, 117

R

Railroads, Switzerland, 49

Referendum, Federal, Switzerland, 21, 22 in labor organizations, 87 instrument of the minority, 22 in the United States, 72 in various states, cities, etc., 82 not the plebiscite, 29 obligatory, 13, 17, 20 optional, 13, 17, 18 what it is, 10

Rittinghausen, 16

Rockland, Mass., town meeting, 73

Rotation in office a partisan idea, 39, 83

S

Salaries of Swiss officials, 35, 36, 38

Salvation Army, Switzerland, 58

Schaffhausen, 12, 13

Schwyz, 8, 12, 13, 65

Senates, no cantonal, 34

Soleure, 12, 13

Stage routes, Switzerland, 52

State religions, Switzerland, 33

St. Gall, 12, 13, 65, 66

Statistics as to Switzerland, 13, 14

Summary of results of direct legislation in Switzerland, 70

Sunday, votings and communal meetings on, 8

Switzerland long undemocratic, 60

T

Table—Population, languages, form of passing laws, year of entering Switzerland, 13

Tariff, protective, Switzerland, 58

Taxes, Switzerland, 52

Telegraph and telephone, Switzerland, 50

Thurgau, 12, 13

Ticino, 12, 13, 59, 66, 67

Typographical Union, 89

U

Unterwald, 12, 13, 65, 66

Urgence, 17

Uri, 12, 13, 65

V

Valais, 12, 13, 61, 66

Vaud, 12, 13, 66

Vincent, Prof. John Martin ("State and Federal Government of Switzerland"), iii references to, 8, 32, 34, 61

Vote-buying, 20

W

Wage-workers in the majority, 106

Wages and political conditions, 103

"Westminster Review", 28, 45

Winchester, Boyd ("The Swiss Republic"), iv reference to, 63

Wuarin, Louis, 30

Z

Zurich, 13, 16, 20, 21, 61, 65, 115

Zug, 12, 13



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Safe Politics for Labor.

"American Federation of Labor,} "New York, May 17, 1892. }

"Mr. J.W. Sullivan:

"DEAR SIR:—I have had the extreme pleasure of reading your book, 'Direct Legislation,' and beg to assure you that it made a deep impression upon my mind. The principles of the Initiative and Referendum so often proclaimed find sufficient elucidation in concise form. The facts that you have massed together of the practical application of these principles give the best evidence of thorough research and study. It is the first time that the labor reformers and thinkers generally have had this subject presented to them in so able and readable a manner. Every man who believes in minimizing the evil tendencies of politics as a trade or profession, cannot fail to be highly interested as well as pleased upon reading your book.

"In many of the trade organizations the Initiative and the Referendum are applied, and I have no doubt in my mind whatever that with the growth and development of the trades-union movement, much will be done to apply the principles to our political government.

THE END

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