BY W. J. GHENT

Author of “Our Benevolent Feudalism,”
“Mass and Class”

WE hear much of the butchery of war. Mr. Edward Atkinson and his fellow-anti-militarists are always opulent with statistics of casualties in armed conflicts; and in their violent denunciation of warfare are eagerly joined by the various peace societies, the Women’s Christian Temperance unions and such militant, though ephemeral, bodies as the Parker Constitutional Clubs. A prominent educator has characterized the Civil War as the Great Killing, and the popular imagination has been led to look upon it as a carnival of almost unexampled bloodshed. The militarism of gun and sword is denounced as though it were the greatest scourge of the race, and its horrors are pictured in the most lurid colors.

The horrors of industrial militarism, on the other hand, claim but scant attention. Under our present civilization, dominated by the ethics of the trading class, they are, by the overwhelming mass of the people, taken as a matter of course. And yet the fiercest and bloodiest of modern wars—excepting alone the present Russo-Japanese conflict—result in smaller losses in deaths, maimings and the infliction of mortal diseases than are caused by the ordinary processes of the capitalist system of industry. A modern Milton might appropriately remind us that

Peace hath her butcheries no less renowned than war.

If the Civil War is to be regarded as the Great Killing, it must be so regarded only in relation to other wars; for in comparison with capitalist industry as it obtains in the United States of America in this decade, the Civil War can only rightly be regarded as the Lesser Killing. It lasted, moreover, for but four years; while the killings and other casualties of our industrial militarism go on year after year in an ever-increasing volume. And as the Civil War eliminated the physically best of the race, so does the present system of industry eliminate the physically best. Only it does not stop there, but takes also the helpless and the weak.

Let us see what comparisons of casualties can be made. According to the figures in the Adjutant-General’s office, the fatalities in the Northern Army during the four years of the Civil War (exclusive of deaths from disease) were as follows:

There were also 199,720 soldiers who died of disease. There are no means of comparing the number of these fatalities with the fatalities from disease contracted in dangerous and unsanitary occupations. It is probable that they do not approximate one-tenth of the latter. But, since there are no available figures for comparison, they must be omitted from present consideration.

The losses of the Confederates will never be known. The records of their armies were but imperfectly kept, and such as were properly made were in many instances lost or destroyed. Even the strength of the Confederate armies is a matter about which there has been an unceasing dispute between Northern and Southern historians since the Civil War. It is not to be doubted that the Confederates suffered a greater mortality relative to their numerical strength than did the Federals, for they were employed to the last available man on the firing line, whereas hundreds of thousands of Federals, held as reserves or stationed as guards, rarely saw the action of battle. In certain engagements, moreover, such as the battle of Chickamauga, the Confederate losses far exceeded the Federal losses. Assuming the purely arbitrary figure of 65 per cent. of the Federal fatalities as representing the fatalities of the Confederates (exclusive of deaths from disease), we have a total of 97,645, or a yearly average of 24,411. Adding the figures for both sides we have an annual average of 62,112 fatalities occurring in a struggle to the death, wherein every device, every energy which men can employ against one another for the destruction of life were employed.

When we come to the statistics of industrial fatalities, we find something like the records of the Confederate armies. The figures are notoriously, confessedly incomplete, and often so much so as to be entirely misleading. Even the tables of railroad accidents compiled by the Interstate Commerce Commission are known to show totals far below the actual casualties. A writer in the New York Herald for December 4, 1904, has analyzed some of these tables and pointed out their defects. But, defective as they are, they furnish an approximate basis for comparisons with some of the sanguinary conflicts of the Civil War. The killings on interstate roads for the year ended June 30, 1904, are reported at 9,984; the woundings at 78,247. The State roads probably added about 975 killings and 7,500 woundings. To these may be added the casualties on the trolley lines, approximately 1,340 killed and 52,169 wounded. We have thus a basis for comparison with the losses at Gettysburg, Chancellorsville and Chickamauga:

The factories probably destroy more lives than do the railroads. But the figures are not obtainable. The statistics of factory casualties given in Bulletin No. 83 of the Census Bureau are ridiculous. Were the factories placed under a Federal supervision law, and were their owners compelled to report accidents to the authorities, a vastly different condition would be revealed. For the coal mines, on the other hand, we have something like authentic figures. The United States Geological Survey reports the casualties in mining coal for the year 1901 as 1,467 killed and 3,643 wounded. Except for the low ratio of wounded to killed, this would make a fair comparison with any one of a number of important engagements during the Civil War. Pennsylvania alone furnished an industrial Bull Run.

When we pass from the record of particular industries to the general casualty record we are met by a mass of unintelligible figures. Bulletin No. 83 gives the rate of fatal accidents in the cities wherein registration is required as 100.3 in each 100,000 of population. For the whole registration record the rate is 96.3. On a basis of 80,000,000 population this would mean a yearly loss of from 77,040 to 80,240 lives. Mr. Frederick L. Hoffman, of the Prudential Insurance Company, in a letter printed in Mr. Robert Hunter’s recent volume, “Poverty,” estimates the rate as between 80 and 85 per 100,000. This would mean from 64,000 to 68,000 killings. “If we say that twenty-five are injured to every one killed, and consider ... the fatal accident rate to be 80 in every 100,000, we have it that 1,664,000 persons are annually killed or more or less seriously injured in the United States. If all minor accidents were taken into consideration, it is probable that the ratio of non-fatal accidents to fatal accidents would be nearly 100 to 1.” This would mean approximately 4,800,000 minor woundings every year.

We cannot separate, on the basis of present figures, the fatal accidents which would be inevitable under any form of society and those which are consequent upon the present capitalist system of production, with its brutal indifference to life. We can only estimate. We have, for instance, in the census reports, an entry of “burns and scalds,” but nothing about boiler explosions; we have a certain number of deaths from drowning, but we are not told whether they occurred in frightful disasters like mine floods or the destruction of a General Slocum—for which capitalist industry is solely responsible—or in accidents wherein the individual’s whim or caprice alone was responsible. And finally we have an appalling record of suicides; but in how many of these business troubles or other economic causes were the impelling motives for self-destruction we cannot tell.

What we do know is that the overwhelming number of the fatalities that all of us learn of, instance by instance, are due to economic causes; that railroad, factory and mining accidents are for the most part needless, and due almost entirely to the brutal indifference of capital to the lives of the workers, and that far the greater number of suicides of which we read or hear are of beings who have been sent to death through economic troubles. Under the benign reign of capitalist industry we have a yearly list of fatalities somewhere between 64,000 and 80,240 and of serious maimings of 1,600,000, whereas two great armies, employing all the enginery of warfare, could succeed in slaughtering only 62,112 human beings yearly.

It is time we heard less of the butchery of war; time we heard more of the butchery of peace. And yet it is doubtful if we shall hear a different strain from those now most prominently before the public as advocates of peace. The advocacy of peace, in so far as it emanates from the retainers and other beneficiaries of the capitalist class, is based not so much upon humanitarian grounds as upon the ground that the worker is serving a more useful purpose when mangled in the Holy War of Trade than when slaughtered in armed conflict. It is the waste of profits on human labor, rather than the waste of life, that most deeply affects them. They are not always conscious of this, because they instinctively identify their moral notions with the material interests of the class they serve. But an unconscious or subconscious motive may be the most powerful of impulses to speech and action. And thus there is every reason to believe that we shall continue to hear the horrors of war most loudly denounced by the very ones who keep most silent regarding the horrors of industrial “peace.”

It is curious how fond men grow of each other when they are making money together.