Acceptance Speech for Mayor of New York City Candidacy
Henry George
[As reported in the New York World, New York
Tribune, New York Star, and New York Times, 6
October 1886. Edited and reprinted in Charles W. Lomas, The
Agitator in American Society (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey:
Prentice Hall, Inc., 1968), 48-58.]
Henry George's 1886
mayoral campaign generated tremendous enthusiasm among New York
City's working people, particularly trade union members. George,
author of the 1879 book Progress and Poverty, considered
private land ownership to be the cause of inequality and advocated a
"single tax" to remedy it. Although George campaigned for
less than a month, he spoke more than one hundred times, sometimes
addressing five or more labor unions and church groups in a single
evening. His acceptance speech for the nomination of the United
Labor Party, delivered at Cooper Union on October 5, 1886, conveyed
George's identification with organized labor and his desire to
channel the ground swell of working-class activism of the mid-1880s
toward electoral politics. Some sense of George's rapport with his
working-class supporters can be glimpsed in the audience reactions
of "laughter" and "vociferous cheers" that a
reporter for the New York World recorded in this account of
George's acceptance speech.
The step I am about to take has not been entered upon lightly. When
my nomination for Mayor of New York was first talked of I regarded it
as a nomination which was not to be thought about. I did not desire to
be Mayor of New York. (Applause and cries of, "But you shall
be.") I have had in my time political ambition, but years ago
I gave it up. I saw what practical politics meant; I saw that under
the conditions as they were a man who would make a political career
must cringe and fawn and intrigue and flatter, and I resolved that I
would not so degrade my manhood. (Great applause and cries of "Bully
for you.") Another career opened to me; the path that I had
laid before-that my eyes were fixed upon-was rather that of a
pioneer-that of the men who go in advance of politics (applause),
the men who break the road that after they have gone will be trod by
millions. It seemed to me that there lay duty and that there lay my
career, and since this nomination has been talked about my friends
here and through the country and beyond the seas have sent me letter
after letter, asking me not to lower, as they are pleased to term it,
the position I occupied by running for a municipal office. But I
believe, and have long believed, that working men ought to go into
politics. (applause and cheers) I believe, and I have long
believed, that through politics was the way, and the only way, by
which anything real and permanent could be secured for labor. In that
path, however, I did not expect to tread. That, I thought, would
devolve upon others, but when the secretary of this nominating
convention came to me and said, "You are the only man upon whom
we can unite, and I want you to write me a letter either accepting or
refusing to accept, and giving your reasons," that put a
different face on the matter. I had made up my mind to refuse, but
when he came in that way I could not refuse. (applause) But I
made my conditions. I asked for a guarantee of good faith of the men
who put me forward; I asked for some tangible evidence that my
fellow-citizens of New York really wanted me to act. That evidence you
have given me. All I asked, and more.
(Then turning to the chairman and grasping his hand, Mr. George
continued impressively:) John McMackin, Chairman of the Convention
of Organized Labor, I-accept your nomination, and in grasping your
hand I grasp in spirit the hand of every man in this movement. From
now henceforward let us stand together.
Working-men of New York-organized laborers of New York, I accept your
nomination. (enthusiastic cheering) For weal or for woe, for
failure or for success, henceforward I am your candidate. (VOICE: "And
the next Mayor, too.") I am proud of it from the bottom of my
heart. I thank you for the compliment you have paid me. Never in my
time has any American citizen received from his fellow-citizens such a
compliment as has been consummated to-night; never shall any act of
mine bring discredit upon that compliment. (A VOICE: "That we are
sure of.") (Then dropping the chairman's hand, and coming to
the front of the platform again, Mr. George said, with much solemnity:)
Working-men of New York, I am your candidate; now it devolves upon you
to elect me. (CHORUS OF VOICES: "We will.") In your
name I solicit the suffrages of all citizens, rich or poor, white or
black, native or foreign-born; if any organization of citizens sees
fit to indorse your nomination, well and good; but as you have asked
me for no pledges, so you may rely on me; I will make no pledge to any
man or body of men. As you have nominated me unsolicited, I will
solicit the indorsement of no other party. Whoever accepts me must
accept me as the candidate of organized labor standing alone. And now
it devolves upon you to elect me. You can; but look in the face what
is against us. This, in my opinion, will be one of the fiercest
contests that ever took place in this or any other American city. If
money can beat me, I shall be beaten. Every influence that can be
arrayed against me will be used. There will be falsehood and slanders,
everything that money and energy and political knowledge and
experience can command. Don't imagine that those who have their hands
in the pockets of this city through their control of the municipal
departments will give up easily (laughter); don't imagine that
the politicians who have made a business of politics for years and
have grown fat upon it will allow the working-men to smash their
machines without trying their utmost to prevent it. But I do believe,
as your chairman has said, that we shall win in spite of all. And I
believe it because I see, in this gathering enthusiasm-a power that is
stronger than money (prolonged applause), more potent than
trained politicians; something that will meet and throw them aside
like chaff before a gale. (renewed applause).
Standing now as your candidate for the Mayoralty of New York City, it
is meet and fitting that I should say something with regard to the
office to which you propose to elect me. It is an important office; it
is a powerful position, but any man who obtains it will be fettered by
a bad system. Our system of government here is very bad. What we
should have is one similar to that of the United States-one executive,
responsible to the people, and the heads of the various departments
appointed by him removable at his pleasure and responsible to him.
Then you will have somebody to call to account. Under our present
system you have dual commissions, commissions of three, or four, or
five persons, and the consequence is you can fix no responsibility
anywhere. These men have to provide for their friends, and therefore
there are all sorts of trading and dickering. Nevertheless the Mayor
of New York has large powers, he has absolute power in appointing
commissioners, though he has no power, as he ought to have, to remove
them, with the exception of two very important commissioners-the
Commissioners of Accounts; these he may appoint and remove at
pleasure. Their business is to go through the departments and see that
everything is all correct. But the Mayor has a greater power, the
power of visitation and inquisition, finding out how things are going;
and he has another great power, that of appealing to public opinion.
If elected, as I believe I shall be elected, Mayor, I will do my
utmost to discharge its duties faithfully and well-I will do my utmost
to give you an honest and a clean government. (applause) I
will do my utmost to bring about such changes in legislation as will
remedy defects which have been proved, and I will enforce the laws.
I want this to be distinctly understood-that when I take the oath of
office as Mayor of New York I will be Mayor of the whole city. (prolonged
cheering, ending with three rounds and a tiger from some men in the
rear) I will preserve order at all risks; I will enforce the law
against friends as fully as against enemies. (applause) But
there are some things that, if I am Mayor of New York, I shall stop if
I can prevent them. There will be no more policemen acting as censors
of what shall be said at public meetings. (This last word seemed
to be anticipated and was drowned in a tempest of applause.) I
will support to the utmost of my power and my influence the peace
officers of the city, but if it is in my power to put a stop to it I
will put a stop to the practice which seems to be common among many of
the hoodlums of the force, of turning themselves into judge, jury, and
executioner, and clubbing anybody whom they think ought to be clubbed.
Without fear and without favor I will try to do my duty. I will listen
as readily to the complaint of the richest man in this city as I will
to the complaint of the poorest. (A VOICE: "The rich have
nothing to complain of.") Some of them are under the
impression that if I am elected they may have. No: you are right about
it. The rich in this city have very little to complain of. Corrupt
government always is and always must be the government of the men who
have money. Under our republican forms, while we profess to believe in
the equality of all men, the rich have virtually ruled the
administration of the law. It reminds me of an old fable I used to
read in a French book. There was a terrible pestilence among the
animals once upon a time. The lion made proclamation and called all
the beasts together. They were suffering for their sins, he said, and
ought to investigate who it was that provoked the wrath of Heaven, and
then offer him up as a sacrifice. And so all the animals met. They
elected the fox as chairman. (laughter) The lion said he was a
great sinner; that he had eaten many flocks of sheep, and even once
eaten a shepherd. (laughter) The fox said to the lion that the
sheep ought to be complimented to be eaten by his majesty, and as for
the shepherd, it served him right, "for evidently," went on
the fox, "he had been throwing stones at your majesty." And
then the wolf and the hyena and the tiger and so on confessed their
several sins, until it came to the fox, who said he had eaten a great
many chickens, but they crowed so in the morning that they disturbed
him very much. Lastly came the donkey, who said that as he was
carrying a load of hay to the market for his master he turned around
and took a mouthful. "Wicked monster," cried the fox. "But
I was hungry," continued the ass. "He had forgotten to give
me my breakfast." "That makes no difference," cried the
fox, and it was unanimously decided that it was the sin of the ass
that brought the pestilence (laughter), and all the animals
fell on him and tore him to pieces by way of sacrifice. It is so with
many rich criminals and it is so on the other side of the question.
The Theiss boycotters are still in prison. Is there not something in
the State of New York that recalls that battle of the animals? (A
voice near one of the doors here shouted out, "Mr. George, there
are three or four ex-convicts who have been sent here as heelers for
Tammany Hall.") I should not be at all surprised at that.
The politicians whom you have disturbed by your nomination, and a
good many of the respectable journals, think very poorly of this
movement, because they term it, "class movement." They
dislike to see class movements in our politics; they would rather you
would go on in the old way voting for Tammany Hall, or the County
Democracy, or the Republicans. Class movement! What class is it? The
working class! Do you ever ask yourselves how it is that the
working-men came to constitute a class? In the beginning all men had
to work. Is it not the dictate of Scripture: "Thou shalt earn thy
bread by the sweat of thy brow"? Nature gives to man nothing.
Without work nothing can be produced. Work is the producer of all
wealth. How, then, is it that there came to be distinctively a working
class? How is it that that working class is everywhere the poorer
class? It is that some men devise schemes by which they can live
without working, by throwing the burden of their work upon their
fellows. An English writer has divided all men into three
classes-working-men, beggar-men, and thieves (loud cheers)-and
this is correct. There are only three ways of getting the product of
labor-by working for it, by having it given to you, and by stealing
it. (laughter) If this is a class movement, then it is a
movement of the working class against the beggar-men and the thieves.
( applause) A class movement! No. (cheers) It is what
Gladstone said of that great movement on the other side of the
water-it is a movement of the masses against robbery by the classes,
and is it not time that there should be in this city of New York some
such movement as this? The political condition of this city-the
metropolis of the western world-is today a hissing and a reproach
through all the monarchies of Europe. Go over there on the other side
and venture to say one word against their aristocratic institutions
and see how quickly you will be met with the retort that there is no
place where there is such open-faced corruption as in this city of New
York. Speak to an Englishman about his rulers and see how quickly he
will answer you to your disadvantage. (A VOICE: "To hell with
them") Oh, no! Not to hell with any country. The man who is
in this labor movement truly and heartily, the man who feels its
spirit and its impulse, becomes a citizen of the world (loud cheers),
a worker for the emancipation of the race. All over the world the
working classes are brothers. (cheers) The quicker and sooner
they recognize that, the quicker the day of redemption will come. I
sat on the platform last night when Mr. Justin McCarthy delivered his
masterly address, and I was very pleased to notice the charity to all
men that was manifest throughout it. Ireland is not struggling for its
rights alone but for the rights of the English people as well. The
Land League movement has brought out the burning declaration of the
land for the people, and is doing its work on both sides of the sea.
But to come back to our own government and time. This government of
New York City-our whole political system-is rotten to the core. It
needs no investigation to discover it. An assemblyman ordinarily "puts
up" more than he can honestly expect to get back in salary. The
ordinary expenditure of a candidate for Congress, I am told, is about
$10,000, and he can make the expenses of his campaign go as high as
$80,000. Even our judges pay some $20,000 for the privilege of
running. It is well understood that a candidate for Mayor must be
prepared to spend $75,000, and it is said that, in a recent campaign,
the candidate spent something like $200,000. Look how money flows
everywhere. This morning we read of Alderman Diwer barbecuing an ox
and letting beer run like water-and this distance from election. Is
this vast amount of money thrown out for simple salaries? The money
that is habitually spent in campaigning in this city is put in as a
business investment (applause)-money out to get money in.
Corruption!
Just consider, for a moment, the contemptuous manner in which this
movement of our working class is treated. And why? Just because they
think we haven't the "sinews of war." Because, as Mr. "Fatty"
Walsh says, "Those labor fellows ain't got no inspectors of
election." And under the beautiful system of local politics here,
one rogue is turned out and another let in. Does that improve things?
Do you suppose that Mr. Rollin M. Squire was a sinner above all other
office-holders in this city? (cries of "no") Is not
the present incumbent applying the same old official axe-chopping off
Tammany heads and putting in County Democrats in the same good old
fashion? Is it not well understood that without some such deal tickets
cannot be got up nor candidates run? Look at the outcry that has gone
up over this movement. The cry of alarm "The Democracy must
unite," is heard everywhere. How has the party of Jefferson and
of Jackson fallen when its two local wings must be called upon to
unite, and even the power of the National Administration brought in to
help that unity! And against what? Against the working man! Why don't
they unite, then, when the obligation is so imperative? Because the
difficulty lies in parcelling out the spoils-in giving out the offices
and getting the proper kind of pledges. As to the principle of the
thing, they care nothing for that. Isn't it time that fresh breath was
infused into this corruption?
In this movement of ours there is hope of better things. In a city
where it has long been held that a man must be rich, very rich, to
hold its highest office, you have put up a poor man. (cheers)
In a city where it is a standing rule that a candidate must disburse
money, you propose to furnish your own money. And you have a candidate
who is free from pledges. Can your Johnny O'Briens say that when their
candidate is nominated? (cries of "no, no") If the
much hoped for union of Tammany Hall and Irving Hall and the County
Democracy does take place, can it be said of their candidate that he
stands free of pledges as to how he will parcel out the jobs in his
gift? Remember that until you can elect men who are free you cannot
expect an unfettered administration.
This movement aims at political reform; but that is not all. That is
not the entire significance of my candidacy. We aim, too, at social
reform. (applause) As declared in the platform you heard here
to-night we aim at equal rights for all men. Chattel slavery is dead,
but what we do tonight is to unfurl again the standard of the equal
rights of man, to take up again the sentiment of the Declaration of
Independence. (applause) Upon us devolves the duty of
overthrowing that more insidious form of slavery which results in
industrial slavery. This movement is a revolt of the masses not simply
against political corruption, but against social injustice. (applause)
And is it not time, and is this not the place? (cries of "yes,"
and applause) Look over our vast city, and what do we see? On one
side a very few men richer by far than it is good for men to be, and
on the other side a great mass of men and women struggling and
worrying and wearying to get a most pitiful living. In this big
metropolis in this year of grace, 1886, we have a vast surging class
of so-called free and independent citizens, with none of whom the
wild, Red Indian, in anything like his native state, could afford to
exchange. We have hordes of citizens living in want and in vice born
of want, existing under conditions that would appall a heathen. Is
this by the will of our Divine Creator? (A VOICE: "No.")
It is the fault of men (applause,), and as men and citizens on
us devolves the duty of removing this wrong; (applause) and in
that platform that the convention has adopted and on which I stand,
the first true step in that direction is taken. Why should there be
such abject poverty and destitution in this city on the one side and
such wealth on the other? There is one great fact that stares in the
face anyone who chooses to look at it. That fact is that the vast
majority of men and women and children in New York have no legal right
to live here at all. Most of us-99 per cent at least-must pay the
other one per- cent by the week or month or quarter for the privilege
of staying here and working here.
See how we are crowded in New York. London has a population of 15,000
to the square mile. Canton, in crowded China, has 35,000 inhabitants
within the same area. New York has 54,000 to the square mile, and
leaving out the uninhabited portion it has a population of 85,000 to
the square mile. In the Sixth Ward there is a population of 149,000 to
the square mile; in the Tenth Ward, 276,000; in the Thirteenth,
224,000, including roads, yards, and all open places. Why, there is
one block in this city that contains 2,500 living beings and every
room in it a workshop. There is in one ward a tenement covering one
quarter of an acre, which contains an average of 1,350 people. At that
rate a square mile would contain 3,456,000. Nowhere else in the
civilized world are men and women and children packed together so
closely. As for children, they die almost as soon as they enter the
world. In the district known as the Mulberry Bend, according to
Commissioner Wingate's report, there is an infant death-rate of 65 per
cent, and in the tenement district he says that a large percentage of
the children die before they are five years of age.
Now, is there any reason for such overcrowding? There is plenty of
room on this island. There are miles and miles and miles of land all
around this nucleus. Why cannot we take that and build houses upon it
for our accommodation? Simply because it is held by dogs in the manger
who will not use it themselves, nor allow anybody else to use it,
unless they pay an enormous price for it-because what the Creator
intended for the habitation of the people whom He called into being is
held at an enormous rent or an enormous price. Did you ever think, men
of New York, what you pay for the privilege of living in this country?
I do not ask what you pay for bricks and mortar and wood, but for
rent, and the rent is mainly the rent of the land. Bricks and mortar
and wood are of no greater value here than they are in Long Island or
in Iowa. When what is called real estate advances it is the land that
is getting more valuable; it is not the houses. All this enormous
value that the growth of population adds to the land of this city is
taken by the few individuals and goes for the benefit of the idle
rich, who look down upon those who earn their living by their labor.
But what do we propose to do about it? We propose, in the first
place, as our platform indicates, to make the buildings cheaper by
taking the tax off buildings. We propose to put that tax on land
exclusive of improvements, so that a man who is holding land vacant
will have to pay as much for it as if he was using it, just upon the
same principle that a man who goes to a hotel and hires a room and
takes the key and goes away would have to pay as much for it as if he
occupied the room and slept in it. In that way we propose to drive out
the dog in the manger who is holding from you what he will not use
himself. We propose in that way to remove this barrier and open the
land to the use of labor in putting up buildings for the accommodation
of the people of the city. (applause) I am called a Socialist.
I am really an individualist. I believe that every individual man
ought to have an individual wife, and is entitled to an individual
home. (applause) I think it is monstrous, such a state of
society as exists in this city. Why, the children, thousands and
thousands, have no place to play. It is a crime for them to play ball
in the only place in which they can play ball. It is an offence for
them to fly their kites. The children of the rich can go up to Central
Park, or out into the country in the summer time; but the children of
the poor, for them there is no playground in the city but the streets;
it is some charity excursion which takes them out for a day, only to
return them again to the same sweltering condition. There is no good
reason whatever why every citizen of New York should not have his own
separate house and home; and the aim of this movement is to secure it.
We hold that the land belongs to the entire people. We hold that the
value of the land of this city, by reason of the presence of this
great population, belongs to us to apply to the welfare of the people.
Everyone should be entitled to share in it. It should be for the use
of the whole people, and for the beautifying and adornment of the
city, for providing public accommodations, playgrounds, schools, and
facilities for education and recreation. Why, here is this building in
which we are assembled, the Cooper Institute; its superintendent told
me only a little while ago they accommodated only about one tenth of
the young people who are flocking here to get an education to enable
them to make a livelihood. Instead of relying upon the beneficence of
individuals, we, the people of New York, ought to furnish the
institutions ourselves. We ought to have in this city of New York
twenty such institutions as this. What the platform aims at is the
taking for the use of the people all that value and benefit which
result from social growth. We believe that the railroads of this city
ought to be taken properly and legally by the people and run for the
benefit of the people of New York. (applause) Why should it
not be so? Any individual putting up a big building, such as the Norse
building, the Cyrus Field building, the Western Union building, puts
in an elevator. But he does not put in that elevator a man with a
bell-punch strung around his neck to collect fares. He gains the
advantage in the increased value of his building. So we could take
their railroads and run them. We could take those railroads and run
them free, let everybody ride who would, and we could pay for it - out
of the increased value of the people's property in consequence. These
are but steps, but the aim of this movement, and this is its
significance, is the assertion of the equal rights of man-the
assertion of his equal and inalienable right to life and to all the
elements that the Creator has furnished for the maintenance of that
life.
Here is the heart of the labor question, and until we address
ourselves to that the labor question never can be solved. These little
children who die in our tenement districts, have they no business
here? Do they not come into life with equal rights from the Creator?
In the early days of New Zealand, when the English colonists bought
land from the natives, they encountered a great difficulty. After they
had bought and paid for a piece of land, the women would come with
babes in their arms and would say: "We want something for these
babes." The reply was: "We paid you for your land!"
Then they who had parted with the land answered: "Yes, yes, yes,
but you did not pay these babes. They were not born then."
I expect, my friends, to meet you many times during this campaign,
and expect to make my voice heard in all parts of this city. I am
ready to meet any questions that may be addressed to me, and to do
whatever in me lies for the success of our ticket. (applause)
I am your candidate for Mayor of New York. (vociferous cheers,
followed by three cheers and a rattling tiger) It is something
that a little while-ago I never dreamt of. Years ago I came to this
city from the West, unknown, knowing nobody, and I saw and recognized
for the first time the shocking contrast between monstrous wealth and
debasing want. And-here I made a vow, from which I have never
faltered, to seek out and remedy, if I could, the cause that condemned
little children to lead such a life as you know them to lead in the
squalid districts. It is because of that that I stand before you
tonight, presenting myself for the chief office of your city-espousing
the cause, not only of your rights but of those who are weaker than
you. Think of it! Little ones dying by thousands in this city; a
veritable slaughter of the innocents before their time has come. Is it
not our duty as citizens to address ourselves to the adjustment of
social wrongs that force out of the world those who are called into it
almost before they are here-that social wrong that forces girls upon
the streets and our boys into the grogshops and then into
penitentiaries? We are beginning a movement for the abolition of
industrial slavery, and what we do on this side of the water will send
its impulse across the land and over the sea, and give courage to all
men to think and act. Let us, therefore, stand together. Let us do
everything that is possible for men to do from now until the second of
next month, that success may crown our efforts, and that to us in this
city may belong the honor of having led the van in this great
movement. (great enthusiasm and cheering)
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