How the United States Curtails Freedom of Thought
[excerpt]
It is a fact that an unusual number
of atrocious crimes against the persons of kings and rulers have
been committed in recent years, and that many of them were committed
by anarchists. Not all, however, by any means. Such crimes have
been most frequent in Russia, and there the assailants have usually
been merely democrats or constitutionalists. In England, these crimes
have been confined to Irish nationalists, whose only political creed
was separation from England. In the United States, three Presidents
have been assassinated—the first by a Democrat and Confederate,
the second by a Republican, and the third only by an anarchist.
Each of these assassins was an American born, and educated in our
schools,—a fact which might induce us to judge more leniently of
foreign immigrants. But, after making allowance for the many crimes
of this nature attributable to non-anarchists, there remain a number
of peculiarly shocking ones committed by adherents of anarchism.
It becomes, then, a matter of importance to determine how best to
prevent such crimes in future. To shut out “beliefs” is not only
unjust, undesirable and inexpedient, but it is impossible. Beliefs
spring up uncen- [613][614] sored and
uncensorable in the mind of every one of our eighty millions of
population, and most Americans do not arrive by way of Ellis Island.
Booth and Guiteau and Czolgosz were native products, and could not
be deported whence they came. Then, again, beliefs travel by mail
more effectively than by steerage, and unless you examine every
letter, book and newspaper that enters our ports, you cannot shut
out the beliefs which they express. You may, however, by passing
rigid statutes against idealists, tempt cranks who sympathize with
them to perform some overt act of violence, for nothing makes a
class so dangerous as to proscribe it. The large meeting held at
Cooper Union in New York to protest against the deportation of Turner
has been widely criticised as tending to encourage violence. Nothing
could be farther from the truth. The deportation itself was calculated
to suggest violence in reprisal, but the establishment of the fact
that there were a considerable number of “respectable” citizens
ready to consider the wrongs even of anarchists,—nothing, surely,
could do more than that to restore to an equilibrium the unbalanced
minds of some members of that fraternity.
We are face to face with a peculiar
symptom of an obscure public distemper, and it cannot be cured by
such crude methods as deportation. The subject calls for the most
careful study of statesmen, penologists, economists and educators.
What is it that produces crimes against rulers? We seem to understand
the matter clearly in Russia, and there we ascribe the trouble directly
to the governing class. Abolish autocracy and absolutism, we say,
and say rightly, and the revolutionist’s bomb will disappear. In
Ireland, we have no great difficulty in forming a diagnosis either.
England has misruled that country for centuries, we declare, and
she has only reaped what she has sown. Here, again, we trace the
disorder back to a national wrong. What was the cause of the three
American assassinations? Booth’s crime was clearly one of the results
of the Civil War. It was the war-spirit, which we took no pains
to exorcise, that turned him into a murderer. Guiteau was an extreme
expression of political strife and hatred, the direct offspring
of Stalwart and Half-Breed rivalry. Czolgosz was no less truly the
product of his times. The war-spirit was abroad again. Revenge had
been preached as a public virtue, and war deliberately chosen by
the nation in preference to diplomacy as the proper instrument of
progress. Again the awful crimes of [614][615]
individuals seem to hark back to a national cause; they are sporadic
expressions of a general infection. And our rulers are preaching
the same doctrines in our name to-day, and, so far as we support
them, we are responsible for the results. A government which assassinates
one sister-republic in the Philippines and vivisects another in
South America, which bombards defenceless villages in Samoa, killing
women and children, in a cause afterwards pronounced by an impartial
tribunal to be absolutely unjust, such a government is setting an
example of anarchy in the worst sense of the word.
Political crimes, then, appear in
some way to arise from national pathological conditions; they are
exhibitions of individual lunacy growing out of a popular craze.
The anarchist assassin is, to all intents and purposes, insane,
and he is doing all he can to injure his own cause. Longing for
a world good enough to dispense with policemen, prisons and electric
chairs, he does his best to prove by his act the impracticability
of his dream. It is really Czolgosz who is shutting Turner out of
America, and if he had been in control of his senses he might have
foreseen the consequences of his act, by which he made government
stronger and discredited his own beliefs. His act was an insane
one, but no man can be insane alone, for none of us lives to himself,
and every man is, and must be, a social symptom. There is a public
madness of the war-spirit, a delirium of national pride and power,
a general fever of money-getting, which in some peculiarly distorted
mind may take the form of unreasoning revolt against all these things.
The strenuous life has many shapes, and it may be practised by devils
as well as angels.
If there is any truth in this reasoning,
the proper cure for criminal anarchism lies in the direction of
the cultivation of national sanity. The European countries which
produce the greatest number of assassins are military-mad. They
are busy pauperizing themselves and exhausting the healthy blood
of their people in the insane rivalry of armaments. The Italian
statesman who would send three-fourths of the army back to their
homes and sink nine-tenths of their men-of-war in the Mediterranean,
would go a long way toward stopping the production of political
criminals. Our national disease shows the greatest congestion and
inflammation in the region of the dollar. The mad race to increase
wealth beyond all possibility of enjoyment, the crazy antics of
[615][616] the Stock Exchange,—we must
study these things, before we can prescribe for the nation. Our
lunatic asylums are ever growing; more and more men and women commit
suicide each year; nervous prostration is becoming the rule rather
than the exception. How far is the dollar-cult responsible for all
this? Excessive wealth must find an outlet for investment, and hence
the craving for the isles of the sea, and for armies and navies
and bloodshed; and who can wonder if here and there a distracted
individual goes off, like a stray revolver, the wrong way, and kills
a fellow citizen instead of a foreign foe?
|