It is fruitless to maintain, as some zealots do, that Communism was not given a fair chance and that its failure is due to the hostility of the world. The complete disintegration of society in Russia, when the incentive of reward for production was removed, demonstrates the visionary character of the experiment. By successive modifications of some of their ideas and the abandonment of others, the leaders of the movement themselves have confessed that they were unable to make a go of their communistic theories. Honest foreign investigators, no matter how prejudiced they were when they went, did not need much time to be convinced that the theories did not work out in practice. After six years, the Russian people, from Lenin down to the humblest peasant, know that the Government does not function when private and personal ownership of the machinery of production is not acknowledged and safeguarded. Brains and arms alike are used only when their possessors know that their efforts bring them some tangible reward. There will be no surplus over the day’s needs unless there is an assured title to that surplus. And this means that no usufruct, for an individual or a community, is ever created unless definite and inviolate ownership has induced the creation.
Soviet theories temporarily destroyed capital or drove it to cover. But as soon as it was seen that capital was essential to keep the country going, the laws passed in the first enthusiasm were not enforced, and were modified and repealed as quickly as could be done without losing face. Trading was resumed, and the Government began to give the necessary assurances to its own people first, and then to nationals of foreign countries, that the right to amass and transfer possessions would no longer be denied.
That the workmen could be a privileged class in the community, even though it was upon them that the revolution, begun and maintained in the cities, depended, was soon proved to be a fallacy. Food came from the country; and the peasants could not be forced to raise more than enough for their own needs unless they got something for their pains. Once the confiscated stocks gave out, the workmen in the cities discovered that they would have to produce what could be given in exchange for food or they would starve. The artificial limits set by law on the working day could no longer be maintained. First of all, an eight-hour day was established, soon followed by a six-hour day; wages were constantly raised; piece-work was prohibited; overtime was not allowed; and unskilled laborers were given the same pay as skilled workmen. Four years of this régime convinced the labor leaders that productive wealth could not be created by legal measures. To get good workmen back to the factories and to make possible the payment of wages that would buy food, virtually all the dreams of the early days were abandoned. Work on Saturday afternoons was restored, as well as piece-work and overtime. The pendulum has swung the other way. The labor day is now from ten to fourteen hours in most industries. Nearly fifty thousand workmen in the “Gozma,” a state factory, found themselves compelled to work sixteen hours; and, when they tried to leave, they were told that they were militarized, and were kept at work under threat of court martial with capital punishment.
