MANIFESTO OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY
A SPECTRE is haunting Europe--the spectre of   Communism. All the Powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise   this spectre: Pope and Czar, Metternich and Guizot, French Radicals and German police-spies.
 Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as Communistic by its   opponents in power? Where the Opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach   of Communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its   reactionary adversaries?
 Two things result from this fact.
 I. Communism is already   acknowledged by all European Powers to be itself a Power.
 II. It is high time that   Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their   aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Communism with   a Manifesto of the party itself.
 To this end, Communists of various nationalities   have assembled in London, and sketched the following Manifesto, to be published in   the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages.
I. BOURGEOIS   AND PROLETARIANS*
 The history of all hitherto existing society  is the history   of class struggles.
 Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master*   and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition   to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight   that each time ended, either in a revolutionary re-constitution of society at large,   or in the common ruin of the contending classes.
 In the earlier epochs of history,   we find almost everywhere a complicated arrangement of society into various orders,   a manifold gradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights,   plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild-masters, journeymen,   apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations.
 The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society   has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new   conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones.
 Our epoch,   the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinctive feature: it has   simplified the class antagonisms: Society as a whole is more and more splitting up   into two great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other:   Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
 From the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered   burghers of the earliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of the bourgeoisie   were developed.
 The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh   ground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets, the colonisation   of America, trade with the colonies, the increase in the means of exchange and in   commodities generally, gave to commerce, to navigation, to industry, an impulse never   before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society,   a rapid development.
 The feudal system of industry, under which industrial production   was monopolised by closed guilds, now no longer sufficed for the growing wants of   the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. The guild-masters were   pushed on one side by the manufacturing middle class; division of labour between   the different corporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labour in each   single workshop.
 Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising.   Even manufacture no longer sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machinery revolutionized   industrial production. The place of manufacture was taken by the giant, Modern Industry,   the place of the industrial middle class, by industrial millionaires, the leaders   of whole industrial armies, the modern bourgeois.
 Modern industry has established   the world-market, for which the discovery of America paved the way. This market has   given an immense development to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land.   This development has, in its turn, reacted on the extension of industry; and in proportion   as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, in the same proportion the   bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every   class handed down from the Middle Ages.
 We see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie   is itself the product of a long course of development, of a series of revolutions   in the modes of production and of exchange.
 Each step in the development of the   bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that class. An   oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing   association in the mediaeval commune,* here independent urban republic (as in Italy   and Germany), there taxable "third estate" of the monarchy (as in France), afterwards,   in the period of manufacture proper, serving either the semi-feudal or the absolute   monarchy as a counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, corner-stone of the   great monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since the establishment   of Modern Industry and of the world-market, conquered for itself, in the modern representative   State, exclusive political sway. The executive of the modern State is but a committee   for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.
 The bourgeoisie, historically,   has played a most revolutionary part.
 The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper   hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly   torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his "natural superiors," and   has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than   callous "cash payment." It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour,   of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical   calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of   the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable   freedom--Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political   illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.
 The   bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honoured and looked   up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest,   the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage-labourers.
 The bourgeoisie has   torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation   to a mere money relation.
 The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that   the brutal display of vigour in the Middle Ages, which Reactionists so much admire,   found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. It has been the first   to show what man's activity can bring about. It has accomplished wonders far surpassing   Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it has conducted expeditions   that put in the shade all former Exoduses of nations and crusades.
 The bourgeoisie   cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and   thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society.   Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary,   the first condition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionizing   of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty   and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen   relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are   swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that   is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled   to face with sober senses, his real conditions of life, and his relations with his   kind.
 The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie   over the whole surface of the globe. It must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere,   establish connexions everywhere.
 The bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of   the world-market given a cosmopolitan character to production and consumption in   every country. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has drawn from under the   feet of industry the national ground on which it stood. All old-established national   industries have been destroyed or are daily being destroyed. They are dislodged by   new industries, whose introduction becomes a life and death question for all civilized   nations, by industries that no longer work up indigenous raw material, but raw material   drawn from the remotest zones; industries whose products are consumed, not only at   home, but in every quarter of the globe. In place of the old wants, satisfied by   the productions of the country, we find new wants, requiring for their satisfaction   the products of distant lands and climes. In place of the old local and national   seclusion and self-sufficiency, we have intercourse in every direction, universal   inter-dependence of nations. And as in material, so also in intellectual production.   The intellectual creations of individual nations become common property. National   one-sidedness and narrow-mindedness become more and more impossible, and from the   numerous national and local literatures, there arises a world literature.
 The bourgeoisie,   by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely facilitated   means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation.   The cheap prices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters   down all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians' intensely obstinate   hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations, on pain of extinction,   to adopt the bourgeois mode of production; it compels them to introduce what it calls   civilisation into their midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word,   it creates a world after its own image.
 The bourgeoisie has subjected the country   to the rule of the towns. It has created enormous cities, has greatly increased the   urban population as compared with the rural, and has thus rescued a considerable   part of the population from the idiocy of rural life. Just as it has made the country   dependent on the towns, so it has made barbarian and semi-barbarian countries dependent   on the civilized ones, nations of peasants on nations of bourgeois, the East on the   West.
 The bourgeoisie keeps more and more doing away with the scattered state of   the population, of the means of production, and of property. It has agglomerated   population, centralised means of production, and has concentrated property in a few   hands. The necessary consequence of this was political centralisation. Independent,   or but loosely connected provinces, with separate interests, laws, governments and   systems of taxation, became lumped together into one nation, with one government,   one code of laws, one national class-interest, one frontier and one customs-tariff.
 The bourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years, has created more massive   and more colossal productive forces than have all preceding generations together.   Subjection of Nature's forces to man, machinery, application of chemistry to industry   and agriculture, steam-navigation, railways, electric telegraphs, clearing of whole   continents for cultivation, canalisation of rivers, whole populations conjured out   of the ground--what earlier century had even a presentiment that such productive   forces slumbered in the lap of social labour?
 We see then: the means of production   and of exchange, on whose foundation the bourgeoisie built itself up, were generated   in feudal society. At a certain stage in the development of these means of production   and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal society produced and exchanged,   the feudal organisation of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the   feudal relations of property became no longer compatible with the already developed   productive forces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; they   were burst asunder.
 Into their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a   social and political constitution adapted to it, and by the economical and political   sway of the bourgeois class.
 A similar movement is going on before our own eyes.   Modern bourgeois society with its relations of production, of exchange and of property,   a society that has conjured up such gigantic means of production and of exchange,   is like the sorcerer, who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world   whom he has called up by his spells. For many a decade past the history of industry   and commerce is but the history of the revolt of modern productive forces against   modern conditions of production, against the property relations that are the conditions   for the existence of the bourgeoisie and of its rule. It is enough to mention the   commercial crises that by their periodical return put on its trial, each time more   threateningly, the existence of the entire bourgeois society. In these crises a great   part not only of the existing products, but also of the previously created productive   forces, are periodically destroyed. In these crises there breaks out an epidemic   that, in all earlier epochs, would have seemed an absurdity--the epidemic of over-production.   Society suddenly finds itself put back into a state of momentary barbarism; it appears   as if a famine, a universal war of devastation had cut off the supply of every means   of subsistence; industry and commerce seem to be destroyed; and why? Because there   is too much civilisation, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much   commerce. The productive forces at the disposal of society no longer tend to further   the development of the conditions of bourgeois property; on the contrary, they have   become too powerful for these conditions, by which they are fettered, and so soon   as they overcome these fetters, they bring disorder into the whole of bourgeois society,   endanger the existence of bourgeois property. The conditions of bourgeois society   are too narrow to comprise the wealth created by them. And how does the bourgeoisie   get over these crises? On the one hand by enforced destruction of a mass of productive   forces; on the other, by the conquest of new markets, and by the more thorough exploitation   of the old ones. That is to say, by paving the way for more extensive and more destructive   crises, and by diminishing the means whereby crises are prevented.
 The weapons with   which the bourgeoisie felled feudalism to the ground are now turned against the bourgeoisie   itself.
 But not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death to   itself; it has also called into existence the men who are to wield those weapons--the   modern working class--the proletarians.
 In proportion as the bourgeoisie, i.e.,   capital, is developed, in the same proportion is the proletariat, the modern working   class, developed--a class of labourers, who live only so long as they find work,   and who find work only so long as their labour increases capital. These labourers,   who must sell themselves piece-meal, are a commodity, like every other article of   commerce, and are consequently exposed to all the vicissitudes of competition, to   all the fluctuations of the market.
 Owing to the extensive use of machinery and   to division of labour, the work of the proletarians has lost all individual character,   and consequently, all charm for the workman. He becomes an appendage of the machine,   and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and most easily acquired knack,   that is required of him. Hence, the cost of production of a workman is restricted,   almost entirely, to the means of subsistence that he requires for his maintenance,   and for the propagation of his race. But the price of a commodity, and therefore   also of labour, is equal to its cost of production. In proportion, therefore, as   the repulsiveness of the work increases, the wage decreases. Nay more, in proportion   as the use of machinery and division of labour increases, in the same proportion   the burden of toil also increases, whether by prolongation of the working hours,   by increase of the work exacted in a given time or by increased speed of the machinery,   etc.								
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