The Karl and Friedrich Show

On this day in 1848 my friend Karl Marx and I, Friedrich Engels, clinked our steins together in an obscure London pub that catered to German ex-pats. "Well, Karl," I said, "I doubt if this Communist Manifesto we just published will make us any money, but it's just what the doctor ordered to fix the world."
"Ja, ja," said Karl. "The world's ready to blow up, and we've figured out why and what to do about it."

Indeed, within the next few months, the French would get rid of their king for the third time and revolutions or rebellions would erupt in another fifty countries in Europe. That sounds like a lot of countries, but you must remember that Italy and especially Germany were made up of many independent states in those days.

In these revolutions, the common people attempted to get rid of corrupt monarchies and establish democracies and liberal governments. The monarchies formed alliances to keep themselves in power and were mostly successful, but the cat was out of the bag.

My own father was one of the exploiters of the downtrodden in his factories in Germany and England. He expected me to go into his business but I was always more interested in philosophy and revolution. While doing my military service in the Prussian Army I attended classes at the University of Berlin. I associated with a group of free thinkers known as the Young Hegelians and started writing articles for radical newspapers.

At the age of 22 my parents sent me to work in my father's sewing thread mill in England, in hopes that I would straighten out. On my journey to England I passed through Cologne and met Karl for the first time. He was publishing a radical newspaper there. We were not impressed with each other.

In England I met Mary Burns, an Irish activist, who showed me the terrible conditions of the workers in the Manchester factories. Neither Mary nor I believed in marriage, but we formed a relationship that lasted till the end of her life.

I began reporting on the factories in England and Karl published my articles in his new paper in Paris. The authorities had chased him out of Germany. After two years in Manchester I moved to Paris. Karl and I now became fast friends and we helped start the Communist League. It was the League that requested we write the Communist Manifesto.

The Manifesto was published as a 23 page pamphlet. In it we present all of history as a class struggle. Under Capitalism the bourgeoisie exploits the working classes for its own profit. The Communist Party will defend the working classes. There will be a naturally occurring revolution resulting in a classless, stateless world. We call for the abolition of private property and child labor, free education, and nationalization of transport and communication among other things. The final line of the Manifesto is a real zinger: "The working classes have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win. Workers of the world, unite!"

We printed hundreds of pamphlets and sent them to Germany, hoping to incite a revolution. There were uprisings all over Germany, but they were crushed by the Prussian Army. Karl moved to England to avoid arrest. I actually took up arms against the Prussians, but it went badly for our little army. My friends thought I was captured or killed, but I escaped to Switzerland and traveled for many weeks as a refugee, eventually arriving in England.

I reconciled with my parents and went to work in a factory in Manchester as they wished. I started as a clerk and worked my way up to manager. I disliked the work, but I was able to support Karl during his researches for his masterpiece, Capital.

When I retired I moved to London and continued to assist Karl. Mary Burns had died by this time, but I became close to her sister Lizzie and we lived together until her death. Karl and I were disappointed that the revolutions of '48 had mostly fizzled. We looked to the east, to Russia. Most of the serfs there lived in communes. You see? Communes...communism. Perhaps Russia would not have to industrialize before its revolution. If the serfs could get rid of the Czar and his minions, the way would be open to Paradise on earth.

Isla McDonnell on her sixth birthday, manifesting red boots.