All the animals were now present except Moses, the tame raven,

who slept on a perch behind the back door. When Major saw that they
had all made themselves comfortable and were waiting attentively, he
cleared his throat and began:
“Comrades, you have heard already about the strange dream that I
had last night. But I will come to the dream later. I have something else
to say first. I do not think, comrades, that I shall be with you for many
months longer, and before I die, I feel it my duty to pass on to you such
wisdom as I have acquired. I have had a long life, I have had much
time for thought as I lay alone in my stall, and I think I may say that I
understand the nature of life on this earth as well as any animal now
living. It is about this that I wish to speak to you.
“Now, comrades, what is the nature of this life of ours? Let us face
it: our lives are miserable, laborious, and short. We are born, we are
given just so much food as will keep the breath in our bodies, and those
of us who are capable of it are forced to work to the last atom of our
strength; and the very instant that our usefulness has come to an end
we are slaughtered with hideous cruelty. No animal in England knows
the meaning of happiness or leisure after he is a year old. No animal in
England is free. The life of an animal is misery and slavery: that is the
plain truth.
“But is this simply part of the order of nature? Is it because this
land of ours is so poor that it cannot afford a decent life to those who
dwell upon it? No, comrades, a thousand times no! The soil of England
is fertile, its climate is good, it is capable of affording food in
abundance to an enormously greater number of animals than now
inhabit it. This single farm of ours would support a dozen horses,
twenty cows, hundreds of sheep — and all of them living in a comfort
and a dignity that are now almost beyond our imagining. Why then do
we continue in this miserable condition? Because nearly the whole of
the produce of our labour is stolen from us by human beings. There,
comrades, is the answer to all our problems. It is summed up in a
single word — Man. Man is the only real enemy we have. Remove Man
from the scene, and the root cause of hunger and overwork is abolished
for ever.
“Man is the only creature that consumes without producing. He
does not give milk, he does not lay eggs, he is too weak to pull the
plough, he cannot run fast enough to catch rabbits. Yet he is lord of all
the animals. He sets them to work, he gives back to them the bare
minimum that will prevent them from starving, and the rest he keeps
for himself. Our labour tills the soil, our dung fertilises it, and yet there
is not one of us that owns more than his bare skin. You cows that I see
before me, how many thousands of gallons of milk have you given
during this last year? And what has happened to that milk which
should have been breeding up sturdy calves? Every drop of it has gone
down the throats of our enemies. And you hens, how many eggs have
you laid in this last year, and how many of those eggs ever hatched into
chickens? The rest have all gone to market to bring in money for Jones
and his men. And you, Clover, where are those four foals you bore, who
should have been the support and pleasure of your old age? Each was
sold at a year old — you will never see one of them again. In return for
your four confinements and all your labour in the fields, what have you
ever had except your bare rations and a stall?
“And even the miserable lives we lead are not allowed to reach
their natural span. For myself I do not grumble, for I am one of the
lucky ones. I am twelve years old and have had over four hundred
children. Such is the natural life of a pig. But no animal escapes the
cruel knife in the end. You young porkers who are sitting in front of
me, every one of you will scream your lives out at the block within a
year. To that horror we all must come — cows, pigs, hens, sheep,
everyone. Even the horses and the dogs have no better fate. You,
Boxer, the very day that those great muscles of yours lose their power,
Jones will sell you to the knacker, who will cut your throat and boil you
down for the foxhounds. As for the dogs, when they grow old and
toothless, Jones ties a brick round their necks and drowns them in the
nearest pond.
“Is it not crystal clear, then, comrades, that all the evils of this life
of ours spring from the tyranny of human beings? Only get rid of Man,
and the produce of our labour would be our own. Almost overnight we
could become rich and free. What then must we do? Why, work night
and day, body and soul, for the overthrow of the human race! That is
my message to you, comrades: Rebellion! I do not know when that
Rebellion will come, it might be in a week or in a hundred years, but I
know, as surely as I see this straw beneath my feet, that sooner or later
justice will be done. Fix your eyes on that, comrades, throughout the
short remainder of your lives! And above all, pass on this message of
mine to those who come after you, so that future generations shall
carry on the struggle until it is victorious.
“And remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No
argument must lead you astray. Never listen when they tell you that
Man and the animals have a common interest, that the prosperity of
the one is the prosperity of the others. It is all lies. Man serves the
interests of no creature except himself. And among us animals let there
be perfect unity, perfect comradeship in the struggle. All men are
enemies. All animals are comrades.”
At this moment there was a tremendous uproar. While Major was
speaking four large rats had crept out of their holes and were sitting on
their hindquarters, listening to him. The dogs had suddenly caught
sight of them, and it was only by a swift dash for their holes that the
rats saved their lives. Major raised his trotter for silence.
“Comrades,” he said, “here is a point that must be settled. The
wild creatures, such as rats and rabbits — are they our friends or our
enemies? Let us put it to the vote. I propose this question to th