A seminal work in Marxist literary cultural criticism and analysis was Franz Merhring’s analysis of the German iconoclast Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, ‘The Lessing Legend‘ of 1895. Among Merhing’s many substantial contributions to the canon of Marxism (and the liberation of our class), the essay would help to define literary criticism and cultural studies, Marxist and otherwise, that followed. Rich even beyond its subject, Mehring himself was no dilettante of the word, and crafted not only a classic of literary criticism, but a classic of literature in itself. Unavailable in English for decades, the Critics Group produced an abridged, but weighty translation in 1938 with the full online text linked here. However, missing from the 1938 translation was Mehring’s lengthy, important introduction -almost half the length of the pamphlet itself- framing and defining, tracing the intellectual origins of the historical materialist approach that drove the analysis of Lessing. Whatever its anachronisms, and understanding since superseded, our remarkably gifted comrade has given us an explanation, often exemplary, of the historical materialist process, its intellectual and practical origins, and the potent tool of cultural analysis. Mehring was first and foremost a revolutionary, and forged it as a weapon in the class war. All done with literary abilities that confirm both his understanding of the subject, and the art of his interpretation. Serialized first in English in early issues of Max Shachtman’s post-SWP ‘New International,’ in a slightly truncated version complied below. The full essay was not published in English until 1975 by New Park, and is available online here. Deft, dexterous, substantial, and highly recommended.
‘Concerning Historical Materialism’ (1895) by Franz Mehring from New International. Vol. 7 Nos. 5, 6, 8. June, July, September, 1941.
(EDITOR’S NOTE: The following selection is taken from an essay by Franz Mehring which appeared as an introduction to the “Lessing Legend”, German edition of 1895, in the book series, International Bibliothek – Dietz Verlag. The essay treats of the philosophical disputes of the time and while parts of the writing seems obsolete in our generation, the whole of it is very timely. Additional selections from this essay, a work which has not heretofore appeared in the English language, will appear in forthcoming issues of The New International)
THE bourgeois world today is really as much opposed to historical materialism as, a generation ago, it was opposed to Darwinism and a half generation ago to socialism. It slanders without understanding it. It has gradually and toilsomely enough admitted (kapiert) that Darwinism is something different from an “ape theory,” and that socialism wishes something different from a “division of the wealth,” or “laying a predatory hand upon the fruits of a thousand years of culture.” But historical materialism is still adequate for the purpose of being overwhelmed with foolish and cheap phrases, phrases, perhaps, of this kind: “that it is a phantasy invented by a pair of talented demagogues.”
Actually – and naturally – the materialistic investigation of history is subject to the same dynamic laws of history, which it itself erects. It is a product of historical development; it could not have been imagined by the most gifted geniuses of any earlier age. Only at a certain stage of development could the history of mankind reveal its mystery.
“While the discovery of the impelling forces of history was entirely impossible in all previous periods, because of complicated and secret interconnections with their effects, our present period has so far simplified these interrelations that the problem can be solved. Since the establishment of large-scale industry, thus at least, since the European peace of 1815, it has no longer been a mystery to anyone in England that there the entire political struggle for hegemony has revolved around two classes, the landed aristocracy and the bourgeoisie. In France the same fact has become visible with the return of the Bourbons; the historians of the Restoration, from Thierry to Guizot, Mignet and riders have declared it to be, above all, the key to an understanding of French history since the Middle Ages. And since 1830, the working class, the proletariat, has been recognized as the third competitor for hegemony in both countries. Relations have been so simplified that one would have to close his eyes, in order not to see in the struggle of the three great classes and in the conflict of their interests, the driving force of modern history, at least in the two most advanced countries.”
So speaks Engels concerning that climactic period of history which first awakened in Marx and himself an understanding of the conception of historical materialism. How this conception was further developed may be gleaned from Engels himself. (Engels, Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classic German Philosophy)
What Marx and Engels Did
The life work of Marx and Engels rests throughout upon historical materialism; upon this foundation were built all their writings. It is simply a lie of bourgeois pseudo-science to make it appear as if both men had only here and there made a little excursion into the science of history in order to establish a theory of history nursed by them since childhood. Kapital, as Kautsky has already particularly emphasized, is, in the first place, an historical work, and especially, with reference to its historical material, is it comparable to a treasure mine in great part still untouched. Likewise must one say that the works of Engels are incomparably richer in content than extent; that they contain infinitely more historical material than the academic wisdom of the school could possibly dream of, a school which discovers, perhaps, a pair of sentences, uncomprehended, or intentionally misunderstood by the superficial, and then gives itself over to wondering if it has not discovered a “contradiction” or something of the sort.
It would be a very worthwhile task systematically to gather together the totality of historical insights which are scattered through the writings of Marx and Engels. And certainly, this task ought to be once and for all discharged. But at this stage we will have to be satisfied with a general indication of what ought to be done, for here the only point is to unfold the most essential principles of historical materialism. And this must be done more negatively than positively, namely, by refuting the customary objections which have been raised against it.
In a manner as brief as it is convincing Karl Marx has extracted the substance of historical materialism in the preface to his work, Zur Kritik der Politischen Ökonomie, which appeared in 1859. There he says:
“The general conclusion at which I arrived and which, once reached, served as the leading thread in my studies, may be briefly summarized as follows: In the social production of life, men enter into definite relations which are indispensable and independent of their wills; these relations of production correspond to a definite stage of the development of their material powers of production. The totality of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure of society – the real basis on which rises a legal and political superstructure and to which correspond definite forms of social consciousness. The mode of production of the material life determines the general character of the social, political and spiritual processes of life. It is not the consciousness of men which determines their existence, but, on the contrary, their social existence determines their consciousness. At a certain stage of their development, the material forces of production come into conflict with existing productive relations or – what is only the legal expression for the same thing – with the property relations, within which these forces had previously worked. From forms of development of the productive forces, these relations turn into their fetters. Then follows a period of social evolution. With the change in the economic foundation, the entire immense superstructure is transformed more or less rapidly. In considering such a transformation one must always distinguish between the material transformation of the economic conditions of production which can be established with scientific exactness, and the juristic, political, religious, artistic or philosophic – in short, ideological forms in which men become conscious of this conflict and fight it out. Just as an individual cannot be judged in terms of what he imagines himself to be, so such a period of transformation cannot be judged by its own consciousness. On the contrary, this consciousness must be explained rather from the contradictions of material life, from the existing conflict between the social forces of production and the relations of production. No social order ever disappears before all the forces of production, for which there exist sufficient room, are developed; and new, higher relations of production never appear in its place, before the material conditions for their existence have been matured in the womb of the old society. That is why mankind always concerns itself with only those problems which it can solve, for on more careful consideration, one would always find that the problems emerge only where the material conditions of their solutions already exist, or at least are in the process of being formed. In broad outlines, the Asiatic, antique, feudal and modern bourgeois modes of production can be designated as progressive epochs in the economic formation of society. The bourgeois relations of production are the last antagonistic form of the social process of production, antagonistic, not in the sense of individual antagonism, but of an antagonism growing out of the social conditions of life for individuals. However, the forces of production developing in the womb of bourgeois society are creating, at the same time, the material conditions for the solution of this antagonism. The primitive history of human society will conclude with this social formation.”
The Communist Manifesto
In these few words is stated the law of motion of human history in its transparent depth and with exhaustive clarity, the equal of which must be sought through all literature. And one must really be a university lecturer in philosophy, in the excellent town of Leipzig, in order to find in them with Mr. Paul Earth “undefined terms and pictures,” formulations of social states and dynamics which are very vague and patched together with pictures. But insofar as men are the bearers of this historical development, this was already described by Marx and Engels in the Communist Manifesto of 1848 as follows:
“The history of all previous societies has been the history of class struggles.
“Freemen and slave, patrician and plebian, lord and serf, guildmaster and journeyman; in short, oppressor and oppressed have stood in con-slant opposition to one another, carried on and uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight which has ended each time with a revolutionary transformation of all society, or with the common destruction of the contending classes.
“In the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere a complete organization of society into various classes, a manifold gradation into social ranks. In ancient Rome, we have patricians, knights, plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guildmasters, journeymen, serfs, and within almost every one of these classes, again special gradations.
“Modern bourgeois society which has arisen from the ruins of feudal society, has not done away with class antagonisms. It has only established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in the place of the old.
“Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, is distinguished, however, in this respect, that it has simplified class antagonisms. Society, as a whole, is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes confronting each other – bourgeoisie and proletariat.”
There follows the well-known description of how the bourgeoisie, on the one side, and the proletariat, on the other, must develop each according to its historical conditions of existence, a description which has brilliantly withstood in the meantime, the test of nearly a half-century, full of the most unprecedented transformations. There follows the proof why and how the proletariat will conquer the bourgeoisie. With the abolition of the old conditions of production, the proletariat puts an end to the class antagonisms, to classes in general, and thus to its own rule as a class. “In the place of the old bourgeois society, with its classes and class antagonisms appears an association in which the free development of each one is the condition for the free development of all.”
And then there ought also to be quoted the following from the words which Engels spoke at the open grave of his friend:
“Just as Darwin discovered the law of evolution in organic nature, so Marx discovered the law of evolution in human history; the simple facts, hitherto concealed under ideological overgrowths that men previous to everything else must first eat, drink, have shelter and clothe themselves before they can study politics, science, art religion, etc.; that the production, therefore, of the immediate material means of life, and consequently the actual level of the economic development, at a given time of a people, constitute the basic conditions from which the organizations of the state, the ideas of justice, the art and the religious notions of the particular people have developed and in terms of which they, therefore, must be explained; not vice versa, as has hitherto been the case.”
Marxism and Historico-Romanticists
Above all, this idea is a simple fact, in the sense of Ludwig Feuerbach who remarked, “It is a specific characteristic of a philosopher that he is no professor of philosophy. The simplest truths are those which always come last to the human being.” Feuerbach was the intermediate link between Hegel and Marx; but he was halted half-way because of the poverty of German conditions. He still considered the “discovery of truths” a purely ideological process. Nevertheless, Marx and Engels did not “hit upon” historical materialism in this fash-sion. To slander them out of kindness that they had spun it out of their heads, would mean to do them as great a wrong as to represent this assertion as an insult, for it means explaining, with the kindest intentions, the materialist conception of history as an empty brain phantasy. Moreover, the real renown of Marx and Engels consists in having given, by means of historical materialism, the most striking proof of its truth. They knew not merely German philosophy, like Feuerbach, but also the French Revolution and English industry. They solved the mystery of human history, although this task had hardly been set for mankind, although the material conditions for its solution were yet in the “process of being formed.” And they proved themselves to be thinkers of the highest order, in that they recognized, nearly fifty years ago, comparatively weak traces of what the bourgeois science of all the nations has not yet been able to grasp, but, at most here and there, only to anticipate, despite an unlimited supply today of the most potent proofs.
How little this method of hatching a particular theoretical proposition can accomplish is illustrated by a remarkable example which sounds extraordinarily enlightening and seems to agree in thought and expression with that scientific knowledge, gained by a penetrating study of historical evolution. We are indebted to Professor Hugo Brentano for the proof of how dose the historical school of the romantic bordered upon the materialist conception of history, particularly the reference to the position of Lavergne-Peguilhen, which reads as follows:
“Perhaps the science of society as such has progressed little until now because the forms of economy have not been sufficiently distinguished; because one has not appreciated that they constitute the foundations of the organization of society and the state, as a whole. One has not noticed that production, the distribution of products, culture and the spread of culture, state legislation and the state form have derived their content and their evolution entirely from the forms of economy; that the above highly important social factors rise just as unavoidably from the forms of economy and their appropriate management as the product from the reciprocal co-operation of the generating forces and that, where social diseases are to be discovered, these find their roots, as a rule, in the contradictions between social and state forms.” (Lavergne-Peguilhen, Die Bewegungs- und Produktionsgesetze)
This was written in the year 1838 by a renowned representative of the historico-romantic school, the same school which Marx, in the Deutsch-Französischen Jahrbücher subjected to such an annihilating criticism. And yet, if one should disregard this fact that Marx does not derive the production and distribution of products from the forms of economy, but, on the contrary, the forms of economy from production and the distribution of products, then he appears, at first sight, to have plagiarized Lavergne-Peguilhen’s materialist theory of history.
Feudalism and the Historico-Romanticists
However, there is the question of “appropriate management.” The historico-romantic school was a reaction against bourgeois national economy, which explained the mode of production of the bourgeois classes as the only one in conformity with nature and the forms of economy of these classes as eternal, natural laws. Historical romanticism in the interests of the Junkers, turned against these exaggerations with the patriarchal glorification of the economic relation of dependence between the landlords and serfs; it opposed to the desires of the liberal school for political freedom the proposition that the real constitution of a people was not a pair of papers: the law and a constitution; but the economic relations of power; thus, in this particular case, the relationship of master and serf which were transmitted from feudal times. The theoretical struggle between bourgeois national economy and historical romanticism was the ideological reflection of the class struggle between bourgeois and Junker. Each of the two forces explained the modes of production and forms of economy approved by its class as eternal, unchanging natural laws. That the liberal vulgar economists, therefore, reckoned more with abstract illusions; the historical romantics, more with brutal facts; that the former had more of an idealistic, the latter more of a materialistic character, simply followed from the difference in the historical stage of development of both combating classes. The bourgeoisie wished for the first time to become the ruling class, and accordingly painted its future rule as the state of universal happiness. The Junker was the ruling class and had to remain satisfied with romantic glorification of the economic relation of dependence upon which its power rested.
At such a glorification only is this proposition of Lavergne-Perguilhen aimed. Thus he wishes simply to say the feudal forms of economy ought to be the foundation, as a whole, of the organization of the state and of society; from them must be derived the form of state and the state legislation. Should society deviate from them, then it becomes sick. Lavergne-Peguilhen makes no secret of his intentions in the further conclusions which he permits himself to draw from his proposition. He distinguished three forms of economy, which historically followed one another and are now “confused” with one another: the economy of force, the economy of interest, and the economy of money to which correspond the state-forms: despotism, aristocracy, monarchy, and the moral feelings: fear, love, self-interest. The economy of interest, the aristocracy, or to call the child by its right name, feudalism, is – love. “The material exchange of mutual services,” so Lavergne-Peguilhen literally writes, “is, above all, the source of love and attachment.” But just as history once hit upon the perverted idea of obscuring this source and of “confusing” the state forms, so also does Lavergne-Peguilhen, following her, wish to confuse the state forms, naturally in the idea of “appropriate management.” The aristocracy ought to govern in the “community” with that power which the richer and more educated members of the community ought to exercise both as law-maker and as administrator over the great crowd of comrades, enjoying citizenship in the community. “In addition there ought to remain a certain amount of despotism,” which “even in its dissolute form could hardly destroy the powers of society as much as the tyranny of law,” and equally so, a certain amount of monarchy, but without “self-interest,” moreover, “encompassing with its exalted point of view the interests of all with an equal love.”
One easily sees what it is Lavergne-Peguilhen wants: the restoration of the feudal rule and “of the absolute king, if he will do its will.” His work has already been criticized by the Communist Manifesto in its judgment concerning feudal socialism: “at times striking the bourgeoisie to the heart’s core, by its bitter, witty criticism, but always ludicrous in its effect because of a total inability to grasp the candle of modern history.” The second part of this criticism is more applicable to German romanticism than the first. The overthrow of feudalism by the bourgeoisie considerably sharpened the wits of the feudal socialists in France and England and thus insinuated in them the pale foreboding that the “old expectation of a future restoration had become impossible.” But German and particularly Prussian feudalism which was still alive, kept copybook in hand and was able to inscribe within its confines, with a clumsy vulgarity, the banner of mediaeval feudalism, clothed throughout in moralistic commonplaces, but still healthy, against the invasion of the by no means sweeping Stein-Hardenbergian legislation.
Unrelated to Marx and Engels
The romantic school is characterized by its inability to understand any other form of economy than the feudal, which it understands only superficially; yet just because it sought, in its narrow class interest, to force all heaven and earth, all moral, political, religious, etc., relations within this economic form, so it arrived naturally at propositions which, from a distance, sound very much like historical materialism from which it is actually as far removed as it is from the class interests of science. Similar to the relations in which Lavergne-Peguilhen stood to Marx and Engels, so twenty years later, stood Gerlach and Stahl to Lassalle. Gerlach, in the Prussian district presidential chamber, had often enough upheld in his own particular ways the future constitutional theory of Lassalle before the liberal position in the Prussian district presidential chamber; and yet Lassalle in his System of Acquired Rights gave these last outpourings of historical romanticism their scientific death-blow. Thus this school has nothing to do with historical materialism, or, only, in the remotest sense, insofar as its unpainted class ideology has been one of the ferments by means of which Marx and Engels arrived at the materialist conception of history.
Only this last statement is also not true. This proposition from Lavergne-Peguihen appeared suffiiciently striking to us – this was before we were able to see the entire work which rightly enough is forgotten today – to send it to Engels with the question, whether he or Marx had known and been influenced by the authors of the romantic school, Marwits, Adam Miiller, Haller, Lavergne-Peguilhen, etc. Engels had the great kindness to answer us on September 28 from J.:
I myself have a copy of the Memoirs of Marwits and I looked through the book several years ago, but I never discovered more in it than some excellent things concerning Cavalry and a stubborn belief in the wonderful powers of five lashes, when employed – by a noble upon a plebeian. In particular, the literature has remained absolutely alien to me since 1841 and 1842. I concerned myself only very superficially with it; and I certainly have nothing to be indebted to it. Marx became acquainted with Adam Miiller and Mr. von Haller’s Restoration, etc., during his stay in Bonn and Berlin. But he spoke with a natural repulsion of these empty, feeble phrase-swollen imitations of the French romantics, Joseph de Maistre and Cardinal Boland. And if he should have met up, at that time, with quotations like the ones cited from Lavergne-Peguilhen, they could not have made any impression upon him, even if he had understood, in general, what such people wished to say. At that time, Marx was an Hegelian for which such a position was absolute heresy; he knew absolutely nothing about economics. Thus he could make nothing out of a phrase like “Forms of economy,” and so the particular passage, if he knew it, would have gone in one ear and out the other, without leaving behind a perceptible trace. But I hardly believe that one would find in the historical romantic writings read by Marx between 1837 and 1841 any suggestions of a similar kind. The passage is in every way very remarkable, though I should like to verify the quotation.
I do not know the book, and the author is known to me only as an adherent of the “historical school.” The most extraordinary things is that the same people, who have abused history in the concrete, theoretically as well as practically, should have found in the abstract the concrete conception of history. People may have been able to see under Feudalism how the state form develops out of the economic form, because the thing was, so tb say, so clear and concentrated at hand. I say, they may have, for apart from the above passage, I have never been able to discover any reason why the theoreticians of Feudalism should be less abstract than the bourgeois liberals. If one of them further generalized this conception of the connection of the spread of culture and the form of the state, with the form of economy within the feudal society – that it applies to all forms of economy and state – how then explain the total blindness of the same romantics as soon as it concerned the other forms of economy, the bourgeois form of economy and the state form corresponding to its levels of development – the medieval guild commune, absolute monarchy, constitutional monarchy, the Republic? This, however, is difficult to harmonize consistently? And the same man, who saw in the form of economy, the basis of the entire organization of society and the state, belonged to a school, for whom the absolute monarchy of the seventeenth and eighteenth century already means the fall of men and a transgression from the true doctrine of the state.
However, it is still true that the form of the state results unavoidably from the form of economy and its “appropriate organization” just as the child results from the cohabitation of man and wife. Considering the world-famous doctrine of the author, I can only explain it in this way: the true form of economy is the feudal. Insofar as the evil in men conspires against this form, it has to be organized accordingly so that it is able under such circumstances to protect and perpetuate itself against these attacks; and that the “form of the state,” etc., might appropriately correspond to them, would bring us back to the 13th and 14th centuries. Then were the best of world and the most beautiful historical theories equally realized. And the Lavergne-Peguilhenian generalization is once more reduced tb its real meaning: that feudal society produces a feudal order of state.”
Thus Engels. Since we have now verified, according to his wish, this quotation and discovered in the exhumed work of Lavergne-Peguilhen the connections expressed above, we can only answer him with sincere thanks for his remarkable interpretation in which he correctly constructed the entire feudal mastodon from a single bone.
Objections to Historical Materialism
Of the customary objections against historical materialism besides the two already dispatched, is one which is connected with its name. Idealism and materialism are the opposing answers to the great philosophical problem concerning the relation of thought to being, the question whether spirit or nature is fundamental. In and of themselves, they have not the slightest to do with moral ideals. Such ideals can be had by the philosophical materialist in the highest and purest sense, while the philosophical idealist does not need to possess them remotely. But because of the many years of slander by the priesthood, there has come to adhere to the word materialism an immorally oblique and additional idea which, in multifarious ways, has known how to creep into the works of bourgeois science. “The philistine understands by materialism, gluttony, boozing, sensuality, sexual lust, and high living, money greediness, avarice, covetousness, profiteering, swindling, speculation; in short, all the sordid vices to which he is himself secretly addicted; and by idealism (he understands) the belief in virtue, the universal love of mankind and in general, a ‘better world,’ of which he boasts before others, but in which he himself believes, at most, so long as he is in the habit of enduring the hangovers and breakdowns necessarily following from his customary ‘materialistic’ excesses; therefore he sings his favorite song: ‘What is man – half beast, half angel.’” (Engels). If one uses the words in this translated sense, then must one say that today the creed of historical materialism demands a high moral idealism for it brings with it, unfailingly, poverty, persecution, and slander; while historical idealism is the affair of every panting careerist, for it offers the richest prospect for all earthly good fortunes, of fat sinecures, of all possible ranks, titles, and offices. We do not thereby assert, by any means, that all idealistic historians are impelled by impure motives, but we ought outright to reject every immoral stain which may have been attached to historical materialism as a foolish and shameless insinuation.
The Nature of the Theory
Something which is understandable, although it is just as much gross error, is the confusion of the materialism of history with that of nature. This confusion overlooks the fact that man lives not only in nature, but also in society, that there is not only a science of nature, but also a science of society. Of course, historical materialism includes natural science, but natural science does not include the historical. Scientific naturalism sees in man a creature of nature endowed with consciousness, but it does not investigate in what way the consciousness of men within human society is determined. Thus, when it ventures into the historical field, it changes into its opposite, into the most extreme idealism. It believes in the magical, spiritual power of great men who make history. Let us recall Buchner’s enthusiasm for Frederick II, and Haeckel’s idolatrous adoration of Bismarck coupled with his most ridiculous hatred of socialists. It recognizes, in general, only ideal impulses in this human society.
A true example of this species is Hellwald’s History of Culture. Its author does not see that the religious reformation of the sixteenth century was the ideological reflection of an economic movement; instead the “Reformation exercised an extraordinary influence upon the economic movement.” He does not notice that the needs of Swiss commerce led to standing armies and commercial wars; instead “it was the growing love of freedom which created the standing armies and, immediately, new wars.” He does not understand the economic necessity for the absolute monarchy in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; instead “it can be proven that the despotism of a Ludwig XIV, the regiment of favorites and of courtesans of the court would never have been possible, if the people had placed their veto against it, for, in the last instance, all power still remains with them.” And so on endlessly!
On nearly every one of his 800 pages, Hellwald commits similar or even worse blunders. Against such “materialistic” historical writing, the idealistic historians naturally have an easy victory. But they, nevertheless, ought not to make historical materialism responsible for Hellwald and Co. Scientific materialism attains by means of the greatest relevancy, actually, the greatest irrelevancy. Insofar as it comprehends man simply as an animal endowed with consciousness, it reduces the history of mankind to a variegated and meaningless play of ideal impulses and ends; by means of the false supposition of men endowed with consciousness as an isolated creation of nature, it arrives at the idealistic phantom of a human history which rushes by like a mad dance of shadows, because of the materialistic connections of the external totality of nature. Historical materialism, on the contrary, begins from the scientific fact that no man is simply an animal, but a social animal, that he obtains he consciousness only in the community of social ties (the horde, gens, the class); and only in it can he live as a conscious creature; that, therefore the material conditions of these ties determine his ideal consciousness; and their progressive evolution represents the predominating law of motion of mankind.
So much, then, concerning the attacks upon historical materialism which have brought it such ill repute. They already exhaust the great part of the objections directed against it, for bourgeois science has not yet yielded a substantial criticism of the materialistic interpretation of history – with the exception of an investigation to be mentioned shortly. With what foolish talk the “most eminent” representatives of this science attempt unsuccessfully to hurdle this inconvenient obstacle which mars those rosy hopes, intended to lull bourgeois class consciousness. Of this, anyone can convince himself by the speeches by means of which Mr. Adolph Wagner, “the great teacher of political economy at the first German university,” had, in particular, enlightened the enlightened gentlemen of the evangelical social congresses in the year 1892 (Adolph Wagner, Das Neue Sozialdemokratische Programm). Now, though we are far removed from placing all representatives of bourgeois science on the same level with this accomplished sophist and sycophant, yet we have been able to discover, after long years of observation of their criticism of historical materialism, nothing more than some common modes of expression which are not so much actual objections as moral reproaches.
In content, historical materialism seems to be an arbitrary construction of history, which compresses the extraordinary, manifold life of mankind in a barren form. It appears to deny all ideal forces; it seems to turn into a non-contradictory playball of mechanical development; it seems to reject all moral standards.
Now the opposite is the truth. Historical materialism dispenses with every arbitrary historical construction; it puts aside every barren formula, which wishes to treat the changing life of mankind in exactly the same fashion. “The materialistic method is transformed into its opposite, when it is employed not as a guide to the study of history, but as a finished stencil in accordance with which one accurately cuts the historical facts.” (Vorwärts, Oct. 5, 1890.)
Thus Engels protested, and similarly Kautsky protested against every “superficial interpretation” of historical materialism; as if in society, there were merely two estates, two classes which struggle against each other, two solid, homogeneous masses, the revolutionary and the reactionary masses. “If this were actually true, then the writing of history would be very easy. But in reality, relationships are not so simple. Society is and becomes ever more a uniquely complicated organism with the greatest differentiation of classes and of interests, which can group themselves, corresponding to the structure of things, into the greatest variety of parties.” (Kautsky, Class Antagonisms of 1879)
Historical materialism approaches every portion of history without any prepossessions; it investigates it simply from its foundation to its roof, ascending from its economic structure to its spiritual conceptions.
But just that, one may say, is an “arbitrary construction of history.” How otherwise would you know that economics is the foundation of historical development and not philosophy? Now, we know it simply for this reason; that men must first eat, drink, shelter and clothe themselves before they can think and write, that man only attains consciousness through social unity with other men; consequently that his consciousness is determined through his social existence and not, vice versa, through his consciousness. The assumption that men first come to drink and shelter by means of thought, to economics by means of philosophy, is the obviously “arbitrary” presupposition of historical idealism and leads it, consequently, to the most remarkable “constructions of history.” In remarkable – and also in unremarkable – ways, this is admitted, in a certain sense, by its epigonian disciples, in that they do not know sufficient ways to make fun of the “historical constructions” of their great representative, namely, Hegel. Not only the “historical constructions” of Hegel, in which they outdo him a thousand fold, irritate them, but Hegel’s scientific understanding of history as a process of human development whose graduated evolution is to be pursued through all its mistaken roads and whose inner conformity to law must be demonstrated through all apparent accidents. These great ideas, a rebirth of ancient Greek dialectic and the ripest fruit of our classical philosophy, were taken over from Hegel by Marx and Engels. “We German socialists are proud in this, that we stem not only from Saint-Simon, Fourier and Owen, but also from Kant and Hegel.” (Engels, Socialism, Utopian and Scientific)
But they acknowledged that Hegel in spite of many profound insights into the process of development had only arrived at an “arbitrary construction,” because he took the effect for the cause, things for copies of ideas, not, as is, in actuality, ideas for the copies of things. For Hegel, this conception was very natural, for the bourgeois classes in Germany had not, in general, really come to life. They had to take flight in the empyrean of the idea, in order to be able to save their independent existence. And here they fought their battles in forms which to the reigning absolutistic-feudal reaction were inoffensive or the least offensive possible. Hegel’s dialectic method, which conceives the natural, historical and spiritual world, taken as a whole, as a process, as in constant movement and development, and seeks to trace the inner connection in this movement and development, ended, nevertheless, in a system which knew how to discover the absolute idea in the permanent monarchy, idealism in the blue Hussars, a necessary estate in the feudal lords, a deep meaning in “original sin,” a category in the crown prince, etc.
As soon as a new class, however, arose in the course of the economic development out of the German bourgeoisie and entered the class struggle, namely, the proletariat, then it was natural that this new class should seek to bring the struggle to earth again, so that it might take possession of its material inheritance not without preparation, taking from bourgeois philosophy its revolutionary content but breaking with its reactionary form.
Marx, Hegel, and Schopenhauer
We have already seen that the spiritual pioneers of the proletariat placed the dialectic of Hegel which had stood upon its head, once more upon its feet. “For Hegel, the thought process, which he transforms under the name, idea, into a self-existent subject, is the demiurgos of the real, which is only its external appearance. For me, on the contrary, the ideal is nothing more than the material world, translated and transplanted into the minds of men” (Marx). But so Hegel was able to supply the bourgeois world which had fortunately been asleep, with a revolutionary content under the reactionary form of his dialectic.
“In its mystical form, dialectic became the German fashion, because it seemed to explain the extant. In its rational form, it is a scandal and an abomination to the bourgeoisie and its doctrinal spokesmen, because it includes, at the same time, in its positive comprehension of existence, also the understanding of its negation, of its necessary disappearance. It grasps every form which has come into existence in the flow of movement, thus, in terms of its transitions. It allows itself to be imposed upon by nothing. By its very nature, it is critical and revolutionary.” (Marx, Karl, Kapital, I, 822. Second ed. German.)
And a scandal and an abomination did Hegel, in fact, become to the German bourgeoisie, not because of his weakness, but because of his strength; not because of his “arbitrary historical constructions,” but because of his dialectical method. For only according to the latter, but not according to the former, does bourgeois science dance to its extinction.
As a consequence, Hegel had to be gotten rid of in toto; and this conclusion also was drawn by the most important philosopher of the German petty bourgeoisie. Schopenhauer rejected Hegel’s philosophy. He saw in the history of mankind no ascending process of development; the German petty bourgeois, whose prophet he was, is Man as he was from the beginning and as he will be in the future. Schopenhauer’s philosophy culminates in the “insight” that “at all times, it was, is, and will be the same.” He writes:
“History shows itself, from every side, to be the same, only under different forms; the chapters of the history of peoples are distinguished basically only in the names and number of years; the really essential content is in everything the same … The stuff of history is the only thing in its singleness and contingency, which always is and afterwards always is no more, the transitory interweavings of a world of men moving like clouds in the wind, often transformed by the most trivial accidents.”
Thus Schopenhauer’s philosophic idealism remains very close to scientific materialism. In fact, both are the opposite poles of the same limitation. And if Schopenhauer fiercely asserted concerning the scientific materialists: “These gentlemen of the crucible must be taught that mere chemistry is very useful to the apothecary but not to the philosopher” – then he ought to be taught that mere philosophizing is very useful to the hypocrites, but not to the investigator of history. But Schopenhauer was effective in his way, for when he rejected Hegel’s dialectical method, he also had to throw away Hegel’s historical construction.
Meanwhile, the more the German petty bourgeoisie developed into large industrial bourgeoisie, the more this bourgeoisie abjured its own ideals in the class struggle and plunged back into the shadows of feudal absolutism; the more powerful grew its need to demonstrate the historical “rationality” of this peculiar retrogression. And since Hegel’s dialectic, upon the ground cited by Marx, was a scandal and an abomination, there therefore remained for it only Hegel’s historical constructions. Its historians discovered the absolute idea in the German Reich, idealism in militarism, a deep meaning in the exploitation of the proletariat by the bourgeoisie, a necessary condition in the snobbishness of money, a category in the Hohenzollern dynasty, etc. And in its stupidly cunning business way, the bourgeoisie thought that thus they had preserved bourgeois idealism. While attacking the “arbitrary construction of history,” it was the real saviour of what was significant and great in this idealism. Thus once more the Gracchii wept over the turmoil and wept even more for the Gracchii themselves!
Let us glance at the other objections and reproaches which have been made against historical materialism: that it denies all ideal forces; that it reduces mankind to a non-contradictory playball of mechanical evolution; that it rejects all moral criteria.
A Means of Investigation
Historical materialism is no closed system crowned with an ultimate truth; it is a scientific method for the investigation of human development. It begins from the indisputable fact that men live not only in nature, but also in society. There are no such things as isolated men; every man, who by accident is left outside of human society, quickly starves and dies. Thus for this reason, historical materialism acknowledges all ideal forces in their widest compass.
“Of everything which occurs in nature, nothing occurs as an end wished-for, known. On the other hand, in the history of society, transactions between men are genuinely endowed with consciousness, burdened with reflection or passion, sought for certain purposes; nothing happens without conscious desire, without willed end … The will is determined by reflection or passion, but the lever which again determine the passion or reflection, are of various sorts. In part they may be external objects; in part, ideal motives, ambition ‘yearning for truth and justice,’ personal hatred, or even purely individual whims of all sorts.” (Engels)
This is the essential point of difference between the history of the development of nature, on the one side, and of society on the other. But apparently the numberless collisions of single transactions and single volitions in history only lead to the same result as the unconscious, blind forces in nature. On the surface of history, just as upon the surface of nature, accident appears to be the rule. “Seldom do things turn out as willed; in most cases the willed ends cross and conflict with each other or these ends are from the beginning unachievable or the means insufficient.” Only when a universal law of motion can be asserted successfully of the conflicting play of all the blind accidents which seem to rule unconscious nature – only then is it justified to ask the question whether the thought and will of mankind acting consciously is not also ruled by such a law.
The Character of History
This law is found, when we search for that which sets in motion the ideal impulses of men. Man can come to consciousness, act and think consciously, only within social bounds. The social community of which he is member awakens and directs his spiritual powers. But the foundation of every society is the mode of producing the material life.
In this way it determines, in the last instance, the spiritual process of life in all its manifold radiations. Historical materialism denies so little ideal forces that it investigates them to their roots, so that it can provide the necessary insight into how ideas develop their power. Certainly men make their history, but how they make their history depends, in every case, upon how clearly or obscurely is imaged in their heads the material connection of things. For ideas do not arise out of nothing; they are products of social processes of production; and the more exactly an idea reflects this process, the more powerful it is. The human spirit does not exist outside but within the historical evolution of human society. It has sprung from, grown up in and with, material production. Only from the time when production begins to develop from an extremely multiform machine to simple and great antagonisms has man been able to understand its entire organization, and only after these last antagonisms have been pushed aside or destroyed, will he seize control of social production, “will the primitive history of mankind come to an end” (Marx), “will men with full consciousness make their own history; will the leap of mankind from the realm of necessity into the realm of freedom be accomplished” (Engels).
Nevertheless, the previous development of society has been no dead mechanism, in which mankind served as a will-less plaything. The greater the portion of the entire lifetime of a generation which must be spent in the satisfaction of its total needs, the greater remains its dependence upon nature, and the smaller is its scope for spiritual development. But this scope grows in the same proportion in which acquired skill and assimilated experience teaches men how to master nature.
MORE AND MORE has the human spirit become master over the dead mechanism of nature; and in the spiritual mastery of the process of production has the progressive development of the human race been completed and is completing itself.
“Upon skill in the production of the necessities of life depends the entire question of the mastery of mankind over the earth. Man is the only being of whom one can say that he has obtained a complete mastery over the production of the means of nourishment, in which he had no superiority over other animals at the beginning … Thus it is highly probable that the great epochs of human progress are more or less directly correlated with the extension of the sources of subsistence.” (Morgan, Primitive Society)
If we should follow Morgan’s division of human prehistory, then the first stage of savagery is marked by the creation of articulate speech, the second by the use of fire, the third by the discovery of the bow and arrow, which is a very complex tool and which to build presupposes long, accumulated experience and sharpened mental powers, thus also knowledge, at the same time of a number of other discoveries. On this last level of savagery, there is already established a certain mastery of production by the human spirit; it is acquainted with wooden vessels and implements, plaited baskets of bast and reeds, polished stone tools, etc.
Morgan dates the passage to barbarism from the introduction of pottery, which marks the lowest stage. Its middle stage is reached with the taming of domestic animals, the cultivation of food plants by means of irrigation, the use of stones and bricks for buildings.
Finally the highest stage of barbarism begins with the smelting of iron ore. With it the production of the material life already attains an extraordinary rich development. The Greeks of the heroic age; the Italian tribes shortly before the founding of Rome; the Germans of Tacitus belong to it. This age is acquainted with the bellows, the kilns (Erdofen), and the forge, the iron axe, the iron spade, and the iron sword, the spear with copperpoints and embossed shield, the hand mill and the potter’s wheel, the cart and the war chariot, ships built of beams and planks, towns with walls and battlements, with gates and towers and marble temples. A visual (anschauliche) picture of the progress in the production attained at the highest stage of barbarism is given in the Homeric poems, which are themselves classical products of the spiritual life arising from this mode of production. Thus mankind is not the will-less plaything of a dead mechanism but its progressive development is rooted in the growing mastery of the human spirit over the dead mechanism of nature. But the human spirit – and this is asserted only by historical materialism – evolves through, with, and out of the material modes of production. The spirit is not their father, but the modes of production are its mother. This relation appears most strikingly and significantly obvious in the primitive societies of mankind.
The transition from barbarism to civilization is brought about by the discovery of the alphabet and its employment for literary records. The written history of mankind begins, and at this stage the spiritual life appears as if it were completely severed from its economic foundations. But this appearance is misleading. With civilization, with the dissolution of the organization of the gentes, with the creation of the family, of private property, of the state, with the progressive division of labor, the splitting of society into ruling and ruled, into oppressing and oppressed classes, the dependence of the spiritual development upon the economic becomes endlessly more obscure and complicated, but it does not cease. “The fundamental ground upon which the distinction of classes has been defended: that there must exist a class which does not have to wear itself out producing its daily livelihood, so that it will have time to take care of the spiritual work of society, has had, until now, great historic justification” (Engels). Until now, i.e., until the industrial revolution of the last hundred years, which has turned every ruling class into an obstacle for the development of the industrial forces of production.
“But the splitting of society into classes rose only out of the economic development. Thus the spiritual labor of no class can be separated from the economic foundation to which it owes its origin. Deep as was the sinful fall of man from the simple, moral heights of the old gentile society to those of the new society governed by the most depraved interests, which was never anything more than the development of the small minority at the expense of the exploited and oppressed great majority, yet the spiritual development was tremendous from the gentes, still attached by the umbilical cord to the natural society, to the appearance of modern society with its enormous productive powers.” (Engels, The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State)
But great as was this progress of the human spirit in becoming a fine, supple, strong, instrument with which irresistibly to subdue nature, yet its springs and driving forces remain always the economic conflict of the particular classes, the “existing conflict between the social forces of production and the relations of production”; yet mankind has posed for itself only such tasks as it could solve, or more exactly, thought continually finds, as Marx declares, that the task only arises where the material conditions for its solution already exists, or at least are in the process of being created. One recognizes most easily this relationship when one investigates to their source the great discoveries and inventions, which according to the ideological conception both of historical idealism and scientific materialism have sprung from the creative, human spirit like Athena from the brow of Zeus, and thereby brought about the most tremendous economic transformations. Every one of these discoveries and inventions has had a long previous history.
And if the simple stages of this pre-history is traced, it would be to recognize above all the necessity which called them forth. There already exists good evidence for this, because many of the most significant inventions, like the discovery of gunpowder and the art of printing, which “have altered the face of the earth,” are hidden in a mist of legends. They are not the work of single individuals, who created them out of the mysterious depths of their genius. If some have rendered, by their inventions, a great service, this was so only because these individuals recognized most sharply and deeply the economic need and the means to satisfy it. The discovery or invention does not call forth the economic transformation, but the social transformation, the discovery or invention; and only in this fashion, when a social transformation brings about a discovery or invention does it become a world-shaking event. America was discovered long before Columbus; already Norsemen had, in the year 1000, been along the northeast coast of America, even as far as the territory belonging to the United States today, but the discovered lands were immediately forgotten and not heard of. As soon as the capitalist development, in its beginnings, called up a need for rare metals, for new labor power, and for new markets, then did the discovery of America signify an economic revolution. It is well enough known that Columbus did not discover a new world out of a dark impulse of his genius, but that he was searching after the fabulous treasures of the ancient civilized land of the Indies. The day after the discovery of the first island, he wrote in his day book: “These good-natured people ought to serve as very useful slaves,” and his daily prayer ran: “May the Lord in his goodness let me find the gold mines.” The “Lord of Goodness” was the ideology of that time, as the even more hypocritical ideology of today is to bring “humanity and civilization to the darkest corners of the world.”
The proverbial tragic fate of the inventor of great genius is not a result of human ingratitude, as the ideological conception implies in its superficial way, but an easily understood consequence of the fact that the discovery does not make the economic transformation but the economic transformation the discovery. Sharp and deeply-sighted spirits recognize the task and its solution, even before the material conditions of this solution are yet ripe and the extant social formation has developed all its productive forces for which it would be sufficient. It is a remarkable fact that the inventions which more than any of the earlier ones contributed most in extending human productive power brought their inventors misfortune and, in fact, disappeared more or less without a trace for hundreds of years (Müller ribbon-loom, 1529; Denis Papin, steam engine and boat, 1707).
An economic transformation brought about the disintegration of feudalism and nowhere was the political superstructure of the material modes of production so clearly and quickly transformed than in the military. Concerning this, bourgeois historical writing, particularly in the Prussian military state, has been especially clear. Thus, writes Gustav Frey-tag, who, if possible, prefers to spin German history out of the “German soul,” but because of his particular interest in the life of the masses of little folk, he is driven by progressive compromises toward historical materialism:
“The Frankish military force of the Merovingians, the lord of the knightly lancers, the Swiss, and mercenaries of the Reformation, and again the army of mercenaries of the thirty years’ war, were all highly characteristic growths of their time. They arose out of these social conditions and changed as these changed. Thus the oldest foot soldier of the propertied classes is rooted in the old municipalities and shires, the mounted knight in the feudal life of luxury, the groups of mercenaries in the growing power of the bourgeoisie, the companies of wandering mercenaries in the growth of the territorial power of the prince. The permanent army of well-drilled mercenary soldiers appears afterward in the despotic states of the eighteenth century.”
And only with the appearance of these “permanent armies of well drilled mercenary soldiers” in the days of Ludwig XIV and Prince Eugene was the spear finally displaced by the firearm, for the infantry, drafted more or less forcibly from the lowest ranks of the nations, could only be held together by the cane and, since it lacked individual initiative or push, could only be used as shooting machines. Such an infantry of mercenaries was each and every one of them, the very opposite of the foot-soldiers who were responsible at Morgan and at Sampach in the 14th century for the first smashing defeats of the feudal knights. This foot-soldiery fought with spears and even with such primitive weapons, as the throwing of stones, but their ferocious power, irresistible for the knights, was created from their old municipal associations, which bound them together one for all and all for one.
From these simple contrasts, the weakness of the assumption already follows, that the invention of powder was the cause of the breakdown of feudalism. Feudalism fell because of the growth of cities and of the monarchy supported by the cities. A barter economy underlaid the financial and industrial economy. Thus the feudal nobility had to be the foundation of the cities and the princes. The new economic powers created for themselves the military forms corresponding to the economic forms. With money, they raised men from the proletariat, thrown upon the highways by the disintegration of feudalism; with their industry, they produced weapons which were as superior in their strength over feudal weapons as the capitalist modes of production over the feudal. They did not discover powder – for this was handed down by the Arabs to the west Europeans in the 14th century – but shooting with powder. Basically the firearm established the unconditional superiority of bourgeois over feudal arms.
The town walls could as little withstand the cannon balls of the artillery as the armor of the knight could withstand the bullets of the blunderbuss. But the art of shooting was not invented in a single day. As always, economic necessity was here too the mother of invention. The conquest of feudalism was completed so impetuously, the power of the cities and the princes grew so quickly that the inventive power of the human mind was little stimulated to better the firearms which at the beginning were very poor and hardly superior to the crossbow and arrow. How could it be otherwise when an army of nobles are defeated, as at Granson and Murten, although they happened to have the superiority in firearms! Thus the improvement of these weapons went very slowly; we see how late the flintlock, a very useful weapon, was employed as equipment for an entire infantry. This weapon was only possible at a certain level of capitalist development. With the weapon monarchial absolutism was able to wage its commercial wars with a military organization, strategy and tactics demanded by its basic economic structure. But should anyone lament the slow development of firearms in the earlier centuries as a stupid misfortune, then a glance directed at our century ought to comfort and give him the pleasant certainty that the human spirit is truly inexhaustible in the invention of lethal weapons, provided that the economic development, in this case, the frantically savage, competitive struggle between big capitalists, drives it with a hunting whip.
Thus, historical materialism does not assert that mankind is a will-less plaything of a dead mechanism; nor does it deny the power of the mind. On the contrary, it entirely agrees with Schiller from whom the Philistine aspiring for culture preferably takes his idealism:
The higher the human spirit develops,
The finer sphinx arises in the night,
The richer is the world which it embraces,
The wider streams the sea with which it flows,
The weaker is the sightless power of Fate.
Only historical materialism understands the law of this spiritual development. And it finds the root of this law in that which first makes humans into humans, the production and reproduction of life. That beggarly pride which once scoffed at Darwinism as an ape-theory may struggle against it and find its satisfaction in the belief that the human spirit flutters about like an incalculable goblin forming with divine creative power a new world out of nothing. Lessing has already completely dismissed this supernatural belief both in his satire concerning the “empty possibility which can be handled under certain conditions in this or in that way,” and in his wise saying:
The iron pot
Would rather be upraised with a silver tongs
That it might think itself a pot of silver.
In short, we can meet the objection that historical materialism denies all ethical standards of measurement. It is not at all the task of the historical investigator to employ ethical norms. He ought to tell us what has happened upon the basis of an objective scientific investigation. What he thinks concerning this, in terms of our own subjective, ethical point of view, we do not demand to know. The “ethical standards or norms” are continually undergoing a transformation and if any living generation with its changing ethical norms would criticize past generations, that is like measuring solidified geologic strata with the drifting sands of the dunes. Schlosser, Gervinus, Route, Janssen – each has a different ethical measuring rod, each has his particular class morality, and more faithfully than the times which they evaluate, they reflect the classes in their works, of whom they were the spokesmen. And it is obvious that this would not be otherwise for a proletarian historian if he were to pass judgment upon earlier times from the present ethical standpoint of his class.
So far historical materialism denies in every way all ethical mores, but only “insofar”; it bans them from historical investigation, in general, because they make impossible any scientific historiography. But if the same objection means that historical materialism fundamentally denies the power of ethical drives in history, then the opposite is true. It so little denies them, that it, in general, has made possible the first understanding of them. In the “material transformations of the economic relations of production which can be truly scientific,” it possesses the only true norm with which to investigate sometimes more slowly, sometimes more quickly, the resulting transformation of ethical points of view. They are, in every instance, the product of the mode of production. Therefore, Marx attacked the Nibelungen text of Richard Wagner, who seeks to make his love situation more piquant by bringing in, in an entirely modern way, a little incest. He asserted: “In primitive times, the sister was the wife; and this was moral.” Just as historical materialism put in their proper place the great men who make history, so it properly places the portraits of historical characters who, enmeshed in the hate and favor of parties, have dropped in and out of history. It is just to every historical personality because it knows how to consider all the driving forces which have determined his activity or inactivity, and it is able, therefore, to define the morality of this activity and inactivity with a fineness of distinction of which the gross “ethical norms” of ideological historiography are one and all incapable.
One takes in hand once again Kautsky’s remarkable book on Thomas More: “For the ideological historians, Thomas More is a true cross. He was a pioneer fighter for the bourgeois class a well educated and free-thinking man, a learned humorist and the first pioneer of socialism. But he was also the minister of a tyrannical principality, an enemy of Luther and a heresy hunter; he was a martyr of the papacy, and he is today a saint of the Catholic Church, if not yet officially, which he may yet become, still unofficially.” What now can ideological historiography do with such a character, even though it may derive its “ethical norms” from Berlin or Rome or wherever it wills? It can glorify or defame him, or half glorify and half defame him, but with all its “ethical norms” it can never disclose an historical understanding of the man. On the other hand, Kautsky has brilliantly solved this problem with the aid of historical materialism. He has shown that Thomas More was a complete man and that all of the apparent contradictions of his life indissolubly hang together. One learns to know infinitely better the ethical powers of the medieval Reformation from Kautsky’s thin little book than from what Darke with his five and Janssen with his six thick volumes have brought to the surface by means of diametrically opposed “ethical standards of measurement.” That is why Kautsky’s book was so completely hushed up. Today, the “ethical standards” of bourgeois historiography demand it.
IT IS ONE of the unsolvable contradictions in which scientific materialism operates within the province of history that it entirely denies that principle of evolution according to which the characteristics of a particular animal race is explained through adaptation to its environment in the struggle for existence at the level of human society. Here it asserts a permanency of human races, which has never existed and cannot exist. In frantically clinging to this nonsensical idea, in the effort to make it consistent with obviously contradictory facts, the concept of race has, in general, become so vague that Gumplowicz correctly says: “Here everything is arbitrary and subjective in appearance and meaning: nowhere is there solid ground, nowhere a sure point of meaning, and nowhere a positive result.”
Actually, the crossing and mixing of the various races and stems began in pre-historical time. And Metchnikov, the Russian investigator, demonstrates concerning the first civilizations of antiquity that they were the result of a great deal of heterogeneous mixing of different ethnic elements, of intermarriages in which one cannot discover approximately, even today, the proportionate significance of their isolated constituents. Thus, for example, it is hard to say which of the three races, the black, the yellow or the white, has done most for the civilization of ancient Egypt. The history of Chaldea shows, so far, that the black race, the so-called Kushites, were in the forefront of that civilization. Even less is discoverable when one assumes language as the distinguishing mark of race instead of blood or color.
In every one of the great language groups, the Aryan, the Semitic and the Mongolian, are found people of the most diverse descent. And if Mr. Barth thinks the assertion of some statesman of “genius” that race is everything, a little too inclusive, but nevertheless, still says, race means a great deal; and wants to prove this assertion by admitting the Aryan race to be superior to the Semitic in “political abilities,” then must one say in this connection: race is not only altogether unimportant, but a complete zero.
It is a little remarkable that Mr. Barth refers to the saying of some unknown English statesman, when he has read the world renowned English philosopher, his contemporary, John Stuart Mill, concerning the assumption of racial differences: “Of all the kinds of vulgar evasions by which one deprived oneself of thought, whose effect has social and moral influences on the spirit of men, the most vulgar is that which ascribes the differences in conduct and character to innate, natural differences.”
Races and History
Historical materialism has not in the least neglected race. But first it seeks to clarify, in general, its meaning. Just as little as there are unchanging animal races, are there unchanging human races. Only the laws of development in nature underlie the animal races, the laws of development of society, the human races. The more a man resolves his immediate connection with nature, the more the natural races fuse and intermingle. The greater men’s control grows over nature, the more completely are the natural races transformed into social classes. The wider the capitalist modes of production spread, the more have the distinctions between the races disappeared or, more and more daily do they dissolve themselves in the oppositions of the classes. Within human society, race is not at all a natural but an historical concept which is determined in the last instance by the material modes of production and is altered by the laws of their development, as Kautsky has proved in the most convincing fashion for the concept of nationality.
But just as the natural conditions of labor have then-sources in the nature of men, so have they their embodiment in the process of social production. When Mr. Barth speaks particularly of climate, it is well to remember that Montesquieu wanted to make climate the lever of political history; that Winckelmann employed the same principle in the history of art; Herder in the history of culture, regardless of particular modifications, limitations and extensions; and that, Buckle, in our century, allowed human history to be the result of the interaction of the human spirit, on the one hand, and of climate, nutrition, soil and of particular natural appearances, on the other. And certainly were this theory a significant step forward in contrast to the theological or rationalistic conceptions of history, then Hegel might also have said: “Do not speak to me of heaven, for now the Turks live where once lived the Greeks,” and Gobineau could have denied the influence of climate on historical development.
If, nevertheless, Hegel made the absolute idea and Gobineau the mixing of the blood of various races the levers of historical development, these were certainly not steps forward in comparison with the historical conception espoused first by Montesquieu and later by Buckle. However, Buckle, to concern ourselves with the most important author of this entire school, overlooked, above all, the most decisive point, the binding member which makes out of his two halves a whole, out of his dualistic world view a monistic one: the means of production of our material life, which unite spirit and nature, which first of all activizes the human spirit, to win control over nature, and which breaks down the mysteries of nature in order to turn theory into productive forces in the hand of men.
Geography and Climatic Influences
What Buckle did not understand, historical materialism emphasizes as the most important point. And if we have already seen that it never denies at all the laws of the spirit, so just as little, we understand, can it deny the laws of nature, or only the climatic laws. When has it been asserted that one could have agriculture on the North Pole’s icebergs or drive boats upon the sand dunes of the Sahara Desert? On the contrary, Marx certainly gave the most careful attention to the significance of natural forces in human production. Thus, he writes, in order to quote one more example:
“Once capitalist production is presupposed, the quantity of surplus labor will vary as the natural conditions of work, namely, also of the fruitfulness of the soil, even under identical circumstances and with given lengths of the work day. Nevertheless, the converse does not follow that the most fruitful soil is the most essential for the growth of capitalist production. It presupposes the control of nature by man. A nature which is too prodigal holds him in its hand like a child in leading strings. She does not make his own development a natural necessity. Not the tropical climate with its exuberant vegetation, but the temperate zone is the mother of capitalism. It is not the absolute fruitfulness of the soil, but its differentiation, the multiplicity of its natural products, which creates the natural basis for the social division of labor and spurs men because of a change in natural conditions, within which he lives, to diversify his particular needs, activities, means and modes of work.”
However, where nature permits the existence of men and the development of a process of social production, there the natural conditions of labor which enter into this process are seized, transformed and subordinated by it; and they lose their significance in the same measure as man’s control over nature grows. They play their part in the history of human society only through the process of production. Accordingly, it is entirely sufficient when Marx says that the modes of production of the material life, in general, condition the social, political and spiritual process of life.
In the changing modes of production is contained the changing physical factors of labor and therefore outside of them nature plays no rôle in the history of human society. In other words, this means: the same modes of production determine the process of social living in the same way, although climate, race and all particular natural conditions may be as varied as they please; and different modes of production determine the process of social life in different ways though climate, race and all particular natural conditions be most completely alike. It might be still permissible to confirm these two propositions by means of one historical example. And indeed in order to strengthen their demonstrative power, we shall choose these examples not from civilized conditions where man’s control over nature has more or less gone quite far, but from the conditions of barbarism, where man is still almost completely controlled by an incomprehensible nature which is in unfriendly opposition to him.
“One finds in all peoples with collective forms of property, altogether the same vices, passions and virtues, approximately similar customs and modes of thought, despite differences of race and climate. The conditions of art call forth the same appearances in races formed differently by natural relations.” So says Lafargue, who understands by the conditions of art in their connection, social conditions.
Historical Materialism and the Future
If one says that historical materialism has already a firm and unshatterable foundation, that does not mean either that all of its conquests are incontestable or that nothing more remains to be done. Where the materialist historical method – and this is admitted – is abused, as by Schablone, it leads to the same kind of perversions in historical thought as by every Schablone. Even where, as a method, it is handled properly, the difference in talents and learning of those who employ it, or the difference in the kind of compass of the source materials at its disposal, lead to a multitude of differences in conception. Indeed, this is easily understandable, for in the field of the historical sciences, a mathematically exact proof is in general impossible. And whoever believes he can disprove the materialist method of investigating history by such “contradictions,” ought not to be disturbed in these sparrow-like enjoyments. To rational people, “contradictions” of this sort only serve as the occasion to look for a more exact and basic proof than those of the contradictory investigators. Thus from such “contradictions,” the method itself gains clarity and certainty concerning its use and results.
Nevertheless, for historical materialism, there remains infinitely much to be done until the history of mankind has been illuminated in all its numberless anastromatizations. Within the soil of bourgeois society, it can never develop its greatest power, just because its growing power is being used above all to destroy this society. It is certainly recognizable where the scientific historians of the bourgeoisie show to a certain degree the influences of historical materialism; and we have repeatedly recognized it in these sketches. Still this influence has very definite limitations. As long as there is a bourgeois class, it cannot put aside its bourgeois ideology; and Lamprecht himself, the most famous representative of the so-called “economic-historical” school, begins his History of Germany with a fundamental sketch, not of German economy, but of “German national consciousness.”
Historical idealism in its various theological, rationalistic and even naturalistic radiations, is the historical conception of the bourgeois class, as historical materialism is the historical conception of the working class. Only with the emancipation of the proletariat will historical materialism attain its fullest bloom; will history become a science in the exact sense of the word; will history become what it always should be, but has not yet ever been: a leader and teacher of mankind.
‘New International’ in 1941 became the theoretical journal of the Workers Party led by Max Shachtman. There have been a number of paper’s named ‘Labor Action’ in our history. This Labor Action was the paper of the Workers Party (United States) founded in early 1940 from a as split in the Socialist Worker Party over the class nature of the U.S.S.R. The Workers Party determined, after an internal debate, that the Soviet Union was a ‘bureaucratic collectivist’ after over a decade of increasingly fractious debates with in the movement that began as the Left Opposition. The new party was led by long-time leading communist activist Max Shachtman, who also edited Labor Action. The split was large, taking the large majority of the YPSL and roughly 40% of the SWP’s total members at the time. Others who joined the new party, at least briefly, included Hal Draper, C.L.R. James, Raya Dunayevskaya, Martin Abern, Joseph Carter, Julius Jacobson, Phyllis Jacobson, Albert Glotzer, B. J. Widick, James Burnham, and Irving Howe. The paper continued as Labor Action after the Workers Party changed the name, and orientation, to the Independent Socialist League in 1949 until the ISL joined the Socialist Party in 1957. Helping to define the ‘Third Camp’ tendency that would, in many places, grow to overshadow their Trotskyist forebears, Labor Action would become an important vehicle of the Party’s labor activists and would help to usher in the New Left in the decade after its demise.
PDF of full issue: https://www.marxists.org/history/etol/newspape/ni/vol07/no05/v07n05-w054-jun-1941-new-int.pdf