| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 23 February 1852 |
MARX TO FERDINAND LASSALLE
IN DÜSSELDORF
London, 23 February 1852 28 Dean Street, Soho
Dear Lassalle,
I should greatly like to know whether my second letter[1] similarly failed to arrive. Knowing how punctilious you are about answering, I can only attribute the delay in hearing from you to some accident.
Since I last wrote my state of health has again improved, although I am still having much trouble with my eyes. My social circumstances, on the other hand, have deteriorated. I have had a definite refus[2] from the publisher in respect of my Economy[3] ; my anti-Proudhon manuscript[4] which for the past year has been wandering around Germany, has likewise failed to find a berth; the financial crisis has finally reached a level comparable only to the commercial crisis now making itself felt in New York and London. Unlike the gentlemen of commerce, I cannot, alas, even have recourse to bankruptcy. Mr Bonaparte was in similar straits when he chanced his coup d'état.
As to this Mr Bonaparte, I feel I can do no better than give you extracts from a letter conveyed to me by a friend in Paris,[5] un ami qui est très sceptique et qui ne partage pas les opinions les plus favorables sur le peuple. Maintenant, écoutez[6] :
'All in all, the mood of the Parisian public has experienced a noticeable change and, even though it has as yet not gone beyond resignation, this last is felt all the more genuinely and grimly, and far more generally. The main reason for this, among the middle and lower classes, is that trade and hence employment, despite initial favourable appearances, simply cannot be got going, whereas those same classes had sacrificed all other considerations to the hope that these things would improve. And then the slow-witted majority of the less advanced workers—which places more hope in the Republic than in the monarchies of long and bitter memory—has, as a result of Napoleon's decrees, gradually come to realise that the President is in no way concerned with the preservation of the Republic; and he has done himself great harm in the eyes of property owners by confiscating the Orleans' estates, a measure which, after all, sets a dangerous official example. Chaps such as Fould, de Morny and Dupin—for reasons of private interest of course—have even refused to subscribe to this measure, a fact all the more striking on account of their spotless antecedents, which are more or less common knowledge. As for Dupin, the President of the defunct National Assembly, it has since been learnt that his last pretty move was to suppress, on the morning of 2 December and with the connivance of Bonaparte, a letter from the Archbishop of Paris inviting the representatives to assemble in the church of Notre Dame while he himself intended to stand in the porch to protect them, in their capacity as the representatives of popular sovereignty, against the soldiers of the usurper. This might have given quite a different turn to the whole thing, the more so since the haute cour de justice[7] had assembled at the same time and had already begun to register a protest against the coup d'état.
'As for de Morny, the minister who resigned with Dupin, he was known as the escroc[8] of his mistress' (Countess Lehon's) husband, a circumstance which caused Emile de Girardin's wife to say that while it was not unprecedented for governments to be in the hands of men who were governed by their wives, none had ever been known to be in the hands of hommes entretenus.[9] Well, at present this same Countess Lehon holds a salon where she is one of Bonaparte's most vociferous opponents and it was she who, on the occasion of the confiscation of the Orleans' estates, let fall the well-known witticism: "C'est le premier vol de l'aigle."[10]
Because of this remark of his wife's, Emile de Girardin was expelled. Rémusat's expulsion is attributed to a similar cause. The latter is said to have arrived one morning at the Ministry of the Interior where Morny had installed young Lehon as Chef de Bureau; upon catching sight of Rémusat, Lehon rudely asked him his name, whereat R. replied: "Monsieur, dans ma famille on porte le nom de son père, c'est pourquoi je me nomme de Rémusat."[11] At much the same time Lehon is said to have had another row, on this occasion in Ham. When he gave General Le Flô official notification of expulsion, the general threw him out, shouting: "Comment, c'est vous, gredin, qui osez venir m'annoncer mon exil?"[12] In such circumstances, it is not difficult to assess how much respect a fledgling government will continue to command, even from the most mediocre of honnêtes gens.[13] A lady known to me personally, a ward of Napoleon's, who had been in close contact with him ever since she was a child, told him on 2 December that she would have nothing more to do with him, adding that he and his associates were a gouvernement de voleurs et d'assassins.[14] True, the real plutocrats continue to adhere to Napoleon as being the only possible expression of authority just now and the last bulwark of existing society, but their faith in the possible durability of his régime has been much undermined by his measures, with the result that, after a brief interval, they have again begun to hug their money, as is evident from the stagnant Bourse and the check to the revival of trade. Thus the President's only real following consists of those who are bound to him by the most blatant self-interest, along with the privileged clerical clique and the army, although considerable dissatisfaction and a feeling of uncertainty and irresolution has crept into the latter as a result of the many dismissals of Orleanist officers, a state of affairs which enormously impairs its power. Moreover, personally and in private, the President is said to be most anxious and downcast. Indeed, in this changed climate of opinion, all that is needed is the removal of his sorry person and everything would be thrown into chaos again without any effort. Little or no attempt would be made at resistance. In this connection the remark by the experienced Guizot, on learning of the successful coup d'état, is worthy of note: "C'est le triomphe complet et définitif du socialisme!"[15]
'Having both before and after fallen out with every party without exception, Bonaparte is seeking a counterbalance by means of this or that popular measure—vast expansion of public works, prospects of a general amnesty for the participants of 2 December, etc.—just as he will soon attempt something similar by means of this or that measure in favour of this or that class, and all without consistency of purpose. And what matters most of all is his failure to win back the masses, since he is unable to give them bread, i.e. any source of labour for their livelihood, and has actually deprived them of their favourite pastime, the innocent consolation they derived from the trees of liberty and the republican inscriptions in the streets; similarly they can no longer while away an hour in the wine and coffee shops, since all political discourse is strictly prohibited there. The peaceable bourgeois are angered by the loss of their hobby-horse, the National Guard... Nor do they fancy those aristocratic routs, the state balls, from which they stay away; thus, apart from foreigners and two or three Parisian exceptions, the only people to attend the last, splendide, Tuileries ball were ladies of doubtful virtue. The reckless squandering that goes on is a source of disquiet to the thrifty citizens, who look ahead to the day when the Orleans funds will be exhausted.
'What particularly offends all who have a modicum of intelligence is the destruction of the Press.
'Again, die organisation of the resuscitated Police Ministry and the spy system associated with it generates bad blood throughout the départements. The Parisian salons are again full of distinguished, unsuspected informers, just as in the days of the Empire.
'And all the time much tripotage[16] on the Bourse on the part of those who, in one way or another, arbitrarily grant or withdraw concessions for railways, etc., the instructions about which they alone had knowledge of, and upon which they speculate the previous day. It was believed that a secret college of Jesuits, headed by Montalembert, who had always been on terms of some intimacy with the President, exerted direct and immediate influence on his decisions; but as for Montalembert, it soon emerged that, after availing himself of his advice, Bonaparte suddenly dismissed him from his presence never to receive him again, so that ever since they have been the bitterest of enemies, and M., personally no less miserable, used the Orleans decree merely as a pretext for dissociating himself officially with honour. Now there is talk of nothing but B.'s craving for conquest. It will be his complete undoing.'
So much for my ami. The important news from here is that the Tories have replaced the Whigs, and formed a ministry headed by the Earl of Derby (Lord Stanley).[17] This événement[18] is splendid. In England our movement can progress only under the Tories. The Whigs conciliate all over the place and lull everyone to sleep. On top of that there is the commercial crisis, which is looming ever closer and whose early symptoms are erupting on every hand. Les choses marchent[19] If only we can manage tant bien que mal[20] through the interim period! It is nearly time for the post. I must close.
Salut.
K. Marx