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Pigs decide farm policy

Animal Farm

After the expulsion of Mr. Jones, the pigs, as the most intelligent animals, naturally assumed the role of leaders. During the winter months, when the earth was like iron and nothing could be done in the fields, the pigs occupied themselves with planning the work of the coming season. It came to be accepted that the pigs, who were manifestly cleverer than the other animals, should decide all questions of farm policy, though their decisions had to be ratified by a majority vote. This arrangement, however, was immediately undermined by the bitter rivalry between Snowball and Napoleon, who disagreed at every point—whether the farm should sow more barley or more oats, whether a field was suitable for cabbages or only for roots.

The pigs had already established their intellectual authority during the secret meetings that preceded the Rebellion. In the barn, several nights a week, they expounded the principles of Animalism to the other animals, who often met their teachings with apathy, loyalty to Mr. Jones, or questions about the value of rebellion. The pigs had great difficulty in making them understand the spirit of Animalism. Meanwhile, the pigs taught themselves to read and write from an old spelling book, and after the Rebellion they reduced the essential principles to the Seven Commandments, which were inscribed on the barn wall as an unalterable law.

To make the principles accessible to the less intelligent animals, Snowball declared that the Seven Commandments could be reduced to a single maxim: "Four legs good, two legs bad." This slogan became a powerful tool for the pigs. The sheep, who could not learn the Commandments by heart, developed a great liking for this maxim and would bleat it for hours on end, often interrupting debates at crucial moments to silence opposition. Through this, the pigs maintained ideological control over the farm's policy direction.

As the years passed, the pigs' decision-making power became absolute. The Sunday Meetings, where resolutions had once been debated and voted on, were abolished; a special committee of pigs, presided over by Napoleon, now made all decisions in private and communicated them to the others. The animals still assembled to receive their orders, but there was no more discussion. The farm grew richer, but the wealth accrued to the pigs and the dogs. Squealer, with his brilliant talk, explained that the pigs performed endless supervisory work, handling files, reports, minutes, and memoranda that were written on large sheets of paper and then burnt in the furnace—work that the other animals were too ignorant to understand. The pigs' privileges were always justified by the need to keep them healthy for their brainwork, and the other animals, reminded that they did not want Jones back, accepted every new inequality.

The culmination of this policy came when the pigs shed all pretense of equality. They began walking on their hind legs, a sight that filled the other animals with terror. Squealer, with some awkwardness but perfect balance, strolled across the yard, followed by a long file of pigs, all walking on their hind legs. Napoleon himself emerged, majestically upright, carrying a whip in his trotter. The sheep, now trained to bleat "Four legs good, two legs better," drowned out any potential protest. The pigs became indistinguishable from human beings: they wore clothes, smoked pipes, and slept in beds. The farm was renamed The Manor Farm, and the final revision of the Commandments read: "All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others." The pigs' decision-making power had evolved into a totalitarian dictatorship that mirrored the human tyranny they had overthrown.