We find ourselves in a situation which is at once remarkable but common: the people whom we are studying are also studying us. As the tale goes, we have put our eye to the keyhole and the first thing we observe is another eye staring back at us. We are not isolated, superior anthropologists studying faraway illiterates, nor industrial sociologists studying supposedly naive factory workers. Those about whom we are reflecting are just as reflective as we, and, sometimes, they disagree with our conclusions.
It is inherent in the situation that, when I portray Marxism as critique, Scientific Marxists will disagree; contrariwise, when I portray Marxism as science, Critical Marxists will object. Had I been writing before 1914, the central disagreement with my analysis would have come from social democrats of the Second International, who conceived Marxism as a scientific socialism and who would have denied vigorously that Marxism was critique. This was essentially the tack that Karl Kautsky took in his review of Karl Korsch's Marxism and Philosophy. Indeed, this was also the position that the Communist International—seeking to protect its emerging canonization of "Marxism-Leninism"—also took toward Korsch and toward Georg Lukacs's History and Class Consciousness. Today, however, affairs are different, and their more Hegelian reading of Marxism has been ascendant. As Norman Levine writes rather inexactly, "a growing literature that rejects the interpretation of Marx as a universal determinist has been forthcoming within the past two decades."1 He cites the work of Karl Wittfogel, Irving Zeitlin, Henri LeFebvre, Lucien Goldmann, August Cornu, Jean-Paul Sartre, Ihring Fetscher, Theodor Adorno, and Max Horkheimer.
The philosopher Richard Bernstein—adopting an Hegelianizing interpretation of Marxism—holds that all of Marx's thinking, including Capital itself, aims "not to affirm the impotence of man in the face of impersonal forces but rather to affirm the real possibility of a critical understanding of the world which allows man's eventual mastery of his own fate."2 But in his Capital, Marx had rejected the "anthropological" standpoint in which "man" is presumably ever the same in his "species being" and, with insistent historicity, studied men and women in their historical plurality and uniqueness, i.e., as proletarians and capitalists.
Elsewhere Bernstein insists, without offering textual evidence, that "the point of Capital is not to sanctify the immutability of 'economic laws' but to reveal their mutability in history."3 If one reads that statement carefully, one may notice that Bernstein goes to some lengths to present Marx's Capital as if it really did not talk about economic laws which were said to operate with an iron immutability. Instead of denying this forthrightly, Bernstein embellishes the issue rhetorically and says that Capital does not "sanctify" the immutability of economic laws. But to "sanctify" simply means to make holy and untouchable. The point, however, is that Marx did see such laws—as he plainly said—as controlling people's will and consciousness.
Although Marx does not believe the laws of capitalism eternal, he believes them inexorable, asserting the immutability and inexorability of capitalism's "pitiless laws," as he called them, under certain historical conditions. I have already shown, and below will show still further, that a central dimension of Marx's work is precisely its general emphasis on the limits within which persons make their own history; it is this standpoint—and not the quasi-theological doctrine of "free will" here rechristened as "praxis"—that is historically innovative in Marx, although the latter is indeed very much there.
Bernstein writes as if all of Marx's works were of one piece, but clearly his Eighteenth Brumaire is different from Capital, being less deterministic and economistic than the latter. Bernstein is correct, I believe, in holding that the aim of Marx's work is to affirm ''man's" ability to achieve a critical understanding of his life that will eventually allow him to master it. This, however, is expected to emerge only with the development of the forces of production revolutionized by the bourgeoisie, which establishes the conditions for emancipating society from the realm of scarcity, particularly when released from the limits imposed by bourgeois relations of production. Bernstein writes as if "critical understanding" would suffice, in Marx's view, to lay the groundwork of emancipation; but that reduces Marx to a left Hegelian. It is precisely because capitalism's pitiless, blind, and naturelike laws make persons impotent, thus denying them what Marx took to be their human birthright, that he opposed and despised capitalism. And it is precisely because of this subjugation of persons by capitalism's iron laws that Marx relies upon the no less inexorable internal structural contradictions of capitalism to produce capitalism's doom. It is just this "proof'' of ordained doom that generations of Marxists understood to be the essence of Marxism, making it a science in which historical outcomes did not depend on mere "will" but on inescapable and certain scientific laws. It is these laws that were understood as distinguishing Marxism from moralizing and sentimental humanitarianism and utopianism. It is exactly because capitalism imputedly has inexorable laws which effectively dominate persons that Marx opposes it, and in which Marx finds the very guarantee of his victory over it. If we had any illusion that the difference between Critical and Scientific Marxism corresponds to the difference between those emancipated from one-sidedness and those in bondage to it, Bernstein's Hegelian reading of Marx must disabuse us.
If the first point that needs to be noted is that Hegelianizing Marxists are blind to the deterministic (and economistic) side of Marxism, it also needs to be added that what they do see, even if limited and skewed, is indeed there, truly part of authentic Marxism. Thus I am not asserting that Marxism is reducible to this economism and determinism; on the contrary, I am arguing that it is characterized precisely by its contradictory combination of determinism and voluntarism, its emphasis on the laws of capitalism and the struggle to release men from subjugation to them through their own free practice.
An antideterminist reading of Marxism is, of course, inherent in Critical Marxism's voluntarism, though scarcely its monopoly. The most recent defense of an antideterminist reading is offered by Melvin Rader who cites the familiar passage in Marx's Preface to the Critique of Political Economy: "My investigation led to the result that legal relations as well as forms of the state . . . are rooted in the material conditions of life. . . . In the social production which men carry on they enter into definite relations that are indispensable and independent of their will.... The sum total of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure of society—the real foundation on which rise legal and political superstructures and to which correspond definite forms of social consciousness. The mode of production in material life conditions (bedingt) the social, political and intellectual life processes in general (uberhaupt)." 4 Rader argues that a proper translation of bedingt 5 is "conditions" (although acknowledging that many other scholars translate it as "determines") thus softening the determinism of the passage. At the same time, he also acknowledges that uberhaupt "can be translated 'altogether'," which would strengthen the determinism.
Rader rejects this translation, however, because its determinism is presumably at variance with "what Marx says elsewhere." This, of course, implies that Marxism could not embody a contradiction, which is contrary to my own essential contention. Moreover, this contradiction becomes impossible to see precisely with the procedure Rader follows. Besides, if the criterion is consistency, one could have chosen to translate Marx's less deterministic phrasings in ways that assimilate them to the deterministic formulation, rather than as Rader does, in the reverse direction. Rader concludes that in his translation—which already adopts the very assumption that is at issue—"the implication is far from economic determinism."
Yet even the idea of a "condition," as, for example, in necessary condition, refers to that which is requisite for the doing or happening of something else, to a circumstance essential to the appearance of something else. What condition (bedingt) means here is grounding or foundation; indeed, it means—as Marx expressly says above—the "real foundation" of the legal and political superstructure and which, like the "foundation" of a building, is that on which everything else rests, is the necessary condition of the structure above it, is that on which the superstructure is dependent. Determinism simply means: given X, then Y. Economic determinism means given a certain mode of production, then there will follow a certain superstructure of other social relations. Thus in his critique of Proudhon, Marx wrote: "In acquiring new productive forces men change their mode of production; and in changing their mode of production, in changing their way of earning their living, they change all their social relations. The hand-mill gives you society with the feudal lord, the steam-mill society with the industrial capitalist."6 Is this not an economic determinism?
Those cited above by Norman Levine as opposing a determinist reading of Marxism are, it will be noticed, precisely those whom I have called "Critical Marxists." Yet no matter how long their roster and how appealing their seeming antidogmatism, what we have is not a consensus among Marxists but a systematic division and conflict; and it is not a division in which one side embodies all the forces of blindness, while the other is enlightenment incarnate. They are all interested parties joined in sympathy to one another and in antipathy to the other side. On this point as on so many others, Norman Levine oversimplifies where he is not simply wrong. Thus his roster of antideterminist Marxists makes no mention of the substantial French groups around the Centre d'Etudes et de Recherches Marxistes and such journals as Recherches Internationale a la Lumiere du Marxisme as well as La Pensee, who cannot at all be said to have clearly renounced what Levine calls the "universal determinist" or unilinear view of Marx. Such names as Maurice Godelier or Jean Chesneaux or even Jean Suret-Canale are sometimes ambiguous in their position and cannot always be counted against the universal determinists. Levine's picture of Marxist universal determinism overthrown is thus, to understate, somewhat overdrawn. When he marches the troops out for inspection he leaves the opposing forces in the barracks, neglects to mention there is a war going on, and fails altogether to explain why this intellectual conflict has intensified since the turn of the century.
Indeed, Levine is so completely a partisan in this internecine struggle within Marxism that he even denies that Scientific Marxists are Marxists at all. Instead, he calls them adherents of Engels and actually calls their theory, "Engelsism." Engels, Levine tells us "was the first revisionist" and something of an ignoramus, while Marx was a revolutionary genius. "My bias is apparent," acknowledges Levine correctly, "I consider Marx had the most creative, imaginative, and relevant mind"—whatever a "relevant mind" may be. Engels's mind, however, "was of a second order."7
In short, rather than confronting Marx's and Marxism's contradictions and attempting to understand them, Levine conceals these by splitting Marx and Engels. Indeed, the central point of splitting them is to deny that there are contradictions within Marx and Marxism by dramatizing a contradiction between them. Marx and Engels are, in effect, presented as having lived a life of total illusion concerning each other. Each thought the other his closest friend and congenial collaborator, but they were, Levine argues, fundamentally opposed. Well, we shall have to see. In this discussion two distinct matters are commonly confused. (1) Did Marx and Engels disagree, about what, and how important was this? (2) Just which doctrines did Marx in fact espouse? The latter issue has often taken the form of a loud but largely sterile debate about whether Marx was "really" an "economic determinist." In particular, critical Marxists such as Georg Lukacs are at pains to deny this. My own concern, however, will be less with Marx's name than with the rules of his game. The important issue is what Marx believed, not the label his beliefs deserved. I shall also hold that this matter cannot be resolved without reflection about what "economic determinism" might mean, and how that term should be used. Not only do we need to think about the meaning of ''economic determinism," but we also require more methodological clarity, asking ourselves about the texts being cited whether from a brief letter or from a carefully developed analysis, from an earlier or later text, and asking ourselves what is implied in comparing certain texts. In short, we shall not only have to consider the concrete issue of Marx's economic determinism but also how arguments concerning this issue are conducted.
In the previous chapters, I documented that in Marx's mature scholarship, his Capital above all, Marx repeatedly declared himself a scientist; he clearly regarded his social theory as a social science modeled after the then emerging natural sciences. Like other scientists, Marx assumed that there are inescapable laws of capitalism which controlled persons' purposes and will and which doomed capitalism inexorably.8 Indeed, in his more general theory—usually called "historical materialism"—Marx held that the mode of production (in any society) was an infrastructure that determined (any) society's ideological and political superstructure. There are thus two economic determinisms here, one bearing on the historically limited but inexorable laws of capitalism that doom it inevitably; the second, consisting of a set of more general premises on which the first was grounded, the more general paradigm of historical materialism, which is indeed a kind of "universal determinism," albeit not necessarily a universal evolutionism.
In opposition, Critical Marxists and others who deny Marx was any sort of determinist, commonly invoke certain stock quotations. Two sets of quotations are commonly cited. Set one usually includes (a) a letter Marx wrote the Russian socialist Vera Sassoulitch some two years before he died, which is usually contrasted with (b) one Engels wrote earlier on the same subject, which purportedly comes to different conclusions than Marx's, and (c) a letter Marx wrote to the editor of the Russian journal Otechestvennye Zapiski (Notes on the Fatherland) six years before he died. These texts discuss the possible uniqueness of Russia and its capacity to escape capitalism, and thus center on the issue of Marx s ''universal determinism as a unilinear evolutionism.
The second set commonly cited to reject the view that Marx was a determinist bear on another kind of determinism, the universal determinism of the historical materialism paradigm mentioned above. This second, equally tired, set of texts were all written by Engels. Thus they can be relevant only to the question of whether Marxism (but not Marx himself) was determinist; therefore, they are cited by those who accept Engels as a cofounder of Marxism and as an authentic Marxist.
The first set of texts purporting to prove that Marx was not a unilinear evolutionary determinist are altogether no more than, say, twenty printed pages, almost all of which are focused on one delimited issue, the politically heated question of the emerging revolution in Czarist Russia; second, they were written very late in Marx's life, just a few years before his death, and lastly, with one important exception, all are contained in incidental letters rather than manuscripts. (That one exception is Marx's Grundrisse discussion of the forms of primitive communalism, to which I will also turn later.) Since I have already considered some of the material in set one I shall feel free to deal briefly with it below.
In set two, the Engels's texts include five letters he wrote following Marx's death in 1883: to Franz Mehring (14 July 1893), to Conrad Schmidt (27 October and 5 August 1890), to J. Bloch (21 September 1890), and to H. Starkenberg (25 January 1894). These texts number no more than fifteen printed pages and are rather casual letters concerning which Engels warns one correspondent, Starkenberg, "Please do not weigh each word in the above too carefully. "9
During the development of the revolutionary movement in Russia a key question emerged. Could Russia skip the capitalist stage, going on directly to the construction of socialism, or must the revolutionary movement reconcile itself to the fact that socioeconomic evolution required that Russia pass through the capitalist stage, in order to develop the industrial requisites of socialism? Jonathan Frankel formulates the implications of this struggle with exceptional clarity:
anybody hoping to convert the Russian revolutionary movement to Marxism would have to overcome a crucial dilemma. If he emphasized that Russia had to go through the same prolonged stages of capitalist development as the west, he would be accused of weakening the faith of the revolutionaries who were fighting for equality, for socialism, not for political liberty. The revolutionary could hardly be expected to martyr himself in the attempt to overthrow the dictatorship of the Tsar if the only result would be to entrench emergent capitalism. If Marxism meant to postpone all hope of socialism for many decades or even for centuries, then such a doctrine spelt suicide for the revolutionary movement. Yet, as against this, if it was said that Russia could avoid the capitalist stage and so pass directly to socialism, then what was the relevance of Marxism to the Russian revolutionary movement? Nearly all the populist leaders—Lavrov, Tkachev, even Bakunin— admired Marx's socio-economic analysis of capitalist society, but they all argued that Russia as a feudal and agrarian country could learn from the West only how to avoid its errors and so find a direct road to socialism. Marxism was irrelevant.10
In 1874 Tkachev had written that a social revolution would be easier in Russia than in the West. While Russia had no urban proletariat (on which Marx depended as the agent of socialism) still, Tkachev says, "we also have no bourgeoisie . . . our workers will have to fight only against the political power—the power of capital is with us still only in embryo." And you sir, he says to Engels, "are undoubtedly aware that the fight against the former is much easier than against the latter."11 Thus Tkachev argued that the very backwardness of capitalism in Russia was an advantage to the socialist revolution there. Correspondingly, there was the further implication that the stronger capitalism grew in Russia, the more difficult it would be to achieve a socialist revolution.12 Thus the sooner revolutionaries made their bid for power in Russia, the better their prospects, and vice versa.
By this line of reasoning, replied Engels, one ought to seek the reestablishment of savagery and semi-savagery, for in them, he indicates, there are no class distinctions, hence no ruling class, and hence no difficulty at all in establishing a socialist revolution and a society without classes. But, says Engels, "it would not occur to us to reestablish this state, for . . . only at a certain level of development of the productive forces of society, an even very high level for our modern conditions, does it become possible to raise production to such an extent that the abolition of class distinctions can be a real progress, can be lasting without bringing about stagnation or even decline in the mode of social production. But the productive forces have reached this level only in the hands of the bourgeoisie. The bourgeoisie, therefore, in this respect also is just as necessary a precondition of the socialist revolution as the proletariat itself. Hence a man who will say that this revolution can be more easily carried out in a country, because, although it has no proletariat, it has no bourgeoisie either, only proves that he has still to learn the ABC of socialism."13
For Engels, then, the socialist revolution was "the victory of the proletariat over the bourgeoisie, and . . . this requires not only a proletariat that carries out this revolution, but also a bourgeoisie in whose hands the productive forces have developed so far that they allow of the final destruction of class distinctions."14
Engels, however, has no doubt that, given the intolerable conditions imposed on the Russian peasantry, the fiscal chaos of the state, and the corruption of its administration, that Russian society was then ''held together with great difficulty and only outwardly by an Oriental despotism ... which not only from day to day comes into more glaring contradiction with the views of the enlightened classes and in particular with those of the rapidly developing bourgeoisie of the capital."15 For these reasons, then "Russia undoubtedly is on the eve of a revolution." The communal ownership system in Russian villages, the mir, will not allow Russia to skip the prior development of a capitalist phase necessary to socialist development because that communal system is itself already decaying with the emergence of capitalism in Russia, and land is cultivated individually not collectively. Yet, says Engels, it is possible that the mir could take on a new lease on life, could continue its social development and allow Russian peasants to skip ''the intermediary form of bourgeois smallholdings." 16
"This, however, can only happen," adds Engels, ''if before the complete break-up of communal ownership, a proletarian revolution is successfully carried out in Western Europe, creating for the Russian peasant preconditions requisite for such a transition, particularly the material conditions which he needs if only to carry through the revolution necessarily connected therewith of his whole agricultural system... If anything can still save Russian communal ownership and give it a chance of growing into a new, really viable form, it is a proletarian revolution in Western Europe."17
In summary: for the most part, Engels here insists that a socialist society premises a mature development of industrial productivity as requisite for the overcoming of scarcity necessary for the institution of a classless socialism. The development of productivity, the great historical mission of the bourgeoisie, is thus as necessary for socialist revolution as is the proletariat. Engels's central thrust here, then, is that skipping the capitalist stage and going directly on to socialism in Russia is an illusion held only by the naive. Engels asks, "is it permissible for one over twelve years of age to imagine the course of a revolution" in the manner that Tkachev supposes.
Nonetheless, adds Engels, it is conceivable that peasant collectivism might be resuscitated if there were a proletarian revolution in industrially advanced Western Europe. The main course of development he anticipated, then, is a continuing development of capitalism in Russia, which will corrupt and deteriorate the mir but which would also create the conditions requisite for a classless socialism; an alternative course, secondary but nonetheless considered possible, is that Russia might indeed proceed directly to its own social revolution on the condition that it is accompanied and helped by a proletarian revolution in the West. While Engels emphasizes the importance of a prior period of bourgeois development, he thus does not altogether exclude the possibility that Russia might skip or compress that stage and move on rapidly, having a kind of permanent revolution in which there is an almost direct transition to social revolution and subsequent socialism in Russia, given outside help from advanced industrial proletariats. Thus even here in his most orthodox posture, Engels equivocates; he does not insist that capitalism in Russia is inevitable, and that socialism can only await the mature development of capitalism. Engels, therefore, was not an evolutionary determinist, for he did not insist on a unilinear evolutionism, in which each society must inescapably go through the same sequence of social states. It is thus mistaken to say, as Jonathan Frankel has, that Engels's reply to Tkachev embodied a "watertight determinism."18 Moreover, the central issue here has been whether capitalism was inevitable especially under Russian conditions; the question was not, whether, once developed, capitalism's laws and subsequent evolution and doom were themselves inevitable. The latter was never challenged. How, then, does Engels's position compare with Marx's ?
Three years later, toward the end of 1877, Marx wrote an unpublished reply to the editor of Otechestvennye Zapiski dealing with the same issues. Marx then formulated the question as being whether the Russians can "find a path of development for their country which will be different from that which Western Europe pursued and still pursues."19 Here Marx observed that Chernyshevsky had questioned whether the liberal economists were correct in believing that "Russia must begin by destroying la commune rurale in order to pass to the capitalist regime, or whether, on the contrary, she can without experiencing the tortures of this regime, appropriate all its fruits by developing ses propres donnees historiques [the particular historic conditions already given her]."20
On this question, Marx then offers it as his own opinion that:
If Russia continues to pursue the path she has followed since 1861, she will lose the finest chance ever offered by history to a nation, in order to undergo all the fatal vicissitudes of the capitalist regime.21
Marx adds, that his chapter on primitive accumulation in Capital does no "more than trace the path by which, in Western Europe, the capitalist order of economy emerged from the womb of the feudal order of economy."22 Marx's point here, then, is to distinguish between (1) the question of the rise of capitalism, which he now clearly indicates need not be inevitable and (2) the question of whether, once this capitalist road has been taken, there was any escape from the "tortures of this regime."
Marx then immediately quotes from Capital, arguing that expropriation of workers from their traditional means of production and subsistence "has not yet been radically accomplished except in England . . . but all the countries of Western Europe are going through the same movement."23 He then observes that, at the end of that chapter in Capital, "the historic tendency of production is . . . that it itself begets its own negation with the inexorability which governs the metamorphoses of nature . . . capitalist property, resting as it actually does already on a form of collective property, cannot do other than transform itself into social property."24
Marx thus clearly distinguished between (1) the problem of the origin of capitalism, allowing that this need not always and everywhere be inescapable, that it might be skipped if a nation like Russia fully exploited its unusual opportunities, and he separates this from (2) the internal development of capitalism which, once mature, allows of no escape: "it begets its own negation with . . . inexorability . . . and cannot do other than transform itself into social property." "After once taken to the bosom of the capitalist regime," holds Marx, "she [Russia] will experience its pitiless laws like other profane people."25
Marx thus did not assert that capitalism must develop in Russia but only that, if it did, it would then be subjected to capitalism's inescapable and pitiless laws. The genesis of capitalism, he insists, is not a universal destiny "imposed by fate upon every people, whatever the historic circumstances in which it finds itself:"26 Marx thus observes that the Roman plebians in antiquity were also expropriated but they did not become wage laborers "but a mob of do-nothings," and Rome did not develop capitalism but slavery. History, then, has no marche generale, says Marx; similar events can, if taking place under different circumstances, produce different results. In summary: Marx rejects the idea that capitalism must arise everywhere. At the same time, he also insists that, once it develops, there is no escaping its laws. If there are differences between Marx and Engels on this they hinge primarily on the degree to which each rejected the idea of the inevitability of capitalism, but Engels too allowed that possibility, however reluctantly. If Engels's views seem more deterministic than Marx's judgement three years after Engels's reply to Tkachev, they do not seem more deterministic than Marx's polemic against Bakunin five years earlier. Note, moreover, that Marx's later position also corresponds to the changing situation in Russia, which had grown more revolutionary than when Engels had written. Finally, to say Russia might escape capitalism and pass on directly to revolution is one thing; to say that she would then be passing on to a socialist revolution is quite another. Both Marx and Engels are much clearer about Russia's being able to avoid capitalism than they are about the nature of the society that would emerge there if she did, or whether that would be socialist.
In 1882 when the Russian edition of the Communist Manifesto was published, Marx and Engels wrote a new preface which again considers whether Russia must pass through capitalism before going on to "the highest communist form of landed property" or whether this communal property must first be disintegrated, as it was in the West. "The only possible answer to this questiol1 today is as follows," they reply: "If the Russian Revolution becomes the signal for the workers' revolution in the West, so that one supplements the other, then the present form of land ownership in Russia may be the starting point of communist development."27
It should be noted, first, that this reply is essentially similar to Engels's letter to Tkachev in allowing for the resuscitation of peasant communalism and in specifying the same condition for it, namely, a workers' revolution in Western Europe, here seen as being summoned by possible Russian revolution. Second, this is, after all, a joint new preface signed by both Engels and Marx, so there is no indication of their having differing views of that matter. Third, there remains a question as to whether the resuscitation of peasant communalism envisaged in this preface, and in Engels's letter to Tkachev, implied that a socialist society may be started in Russia, which Marx had denied in his 1872 critique of Bakunin. Clearly, however, Marx and Engels never regarded communism in land, and land alone, as a socialist economy, so that while this text allows for a unique historical (and even communist) development in Russia, allowing it to skip over or compress the development of capitalism, still, they only explicitly admit of the possibility of starting on the road to a socialist society. Fourth and finally, this new preface to the Russian edition in no way repeals or relents on the determinism of capitalism's own merciless laws, once a nation has started on the development of a capitalist economy.
In February of 1881, two years before his death, Marx received a letter from Vera Sassoulitch, who wanted to know whether Marx could offer any hope for the future of the Russian mir. Marx seems to have been very unsure of how to answer, drafting three separate replies before finally sending her a terse answer in which, as above, he reiterates that the emergence of capitalism itself is not inevitable outside of Western Europe, and that the mir could be the basis of Russian regeneration, if one could "eliminate the deleterious influences which assail it from every quarter"—including the development of capitalism itself, which was proceeding with increasing speed—"and then to ensure the conditions normal for spontaneous development,''28 the character of which Marx does not here specify. Again, there remains ambiguity about whether avoidance of capitalism necessarily implies achievement of socialism.
On 23 April 1888 Engels once more wrote29 Vera Sassoulitch, who had inquired about his opinion of Plekhanov's new book which Engels had not read. Replying, he notes that "the Russians are approaching their 1789" and that the revolution could break Out there momentarily. So precarious is Russian society that "if ever Blanquism—the phantasy of overturning an entire society through the action of a small conspiracy—had a certain justification for its existence, that is certainly in Petersburg." Engels does not here deliver determinist lectures about the importance of the prior development of proper structural conditions; he acknowledges that even a conspiracy can overturn a society ripe for revolution. He adds, however, that the conspirators will get more than they expected: "the people who laid the spark to the mine will be swept away by the explosion.... People who boasted that they had made a revolution have always seen the next day that they had no idea what they were doing, that the revolution they made did not in the least resemble the one they would have liked to make." Here in these realistic, indeed prophetic comments, Engels argues that it is social structure that ultimately shapes history, whatever men may intend. The general argument is: when structures are precarious and on the brink of explosion, individual intervention can indeed be decisive but, afterwards, the structural drift reasserts itself. Whatever else may be said, Engels is certainly here imposing no unswervable marche generale on history; detours were possible. Engels leans toward a synchronic universal determinism rather than a unilinear evolutionary determination.
Clearly, then, no case has here been established that Marx and Engels differed decisively about the inevitable emergence of capitalism outside of Western Europe; under different conditions troth allowed, Engels somewhat less and Marx more, the possibility that Russia could bypass the capitalist stage of development. Under no conditions, however, did either regard the development of a mature capitalism as susceptible to diverse or indeterminate outcomes; both regarded it as inescapably doomed by its own laws.
We may thus conclude that Marx's Capital was a study of the origins and functioning of capitalism in Western Europe, mostly based on analysis of examples from one case, that of England, where the condition taken to be essential to its emergence was a primitive accumulation of capital, the expropriation of the peasantry, and, more generally, the expropriation of the means of production from artisans and working people. Marx denies, in the texts cited above, that this model of capitalism's origin applies universally; he denies that capitalism must arise outside of Western Europe or that all countries must become capitalist. Marx thus allows for a multilinear evolution. For that matter, so does Engels, if less emphatically. What works itself out "with an iron necessity," then, is not the rise of capitalism itself but the development of its contradictions and the doom they bring, once capitalism has emerged with any maturity. Although capitalism need not arise outside Western Europe, so far as Marx is concerned, he does not say that the laws of capitalism differ fundamentally in the different countries in which it exists or, should capitalism arise elsewhere, that its laws would differ. To the contrary, Marx insists that once having taken the capitalist road, Russia cannot escape the laws of capitalism.
Thus while the origins and rise of capitalism may vary and are not inevitable outside of Western Europe, the laws of capitalism's own functioning remain constant and inexorable for capitalist societies, once created. The crux of the matter is that in Marxism, "economic determinism" may have three distinct meanings, and it is only one of these on which Marx and Engels ever wavered. In Marxism, "economic determinism" is not ambiguous but triguous:
1. Unilinear Evolutionism. All societies are said to pass through the same sequence of stages, each of which is the inescapable result of the previous stage and the necessary requisite of the next. If Marx ever held this view, it is certainly the one he rejected. But there is no indication at all that he ever rejects either of two other forms of economic determinism: (a) synchronic universal determinism and (b) synchronic particularistic determinism.
2. Particularistic Determinism. These are the "pitiless" and inescapable laws of capitalism, and apply only to its historical lifespan; e.g., the increasing misery of the proletariat; the increasing centralization and concentration of capital; the increasing division of labor; the increasingly cooperative form of the labor process; the application of science to technology; the spread of the world market; the "steady intensification of the wrath of the working class . . . with the inexorability of a law of nature, capitalist production begets its own negation."30
3. Universal Determinism. This involves statements bearing on the universality of the determination of the (ideological and political) superstructure by the mode of production, i.e., the infrastructure. The nucleus of this is the direct relationship between owners and producers through which the latter's unpaid surplus labor is siphoned to the former. These statements are a universal determinism because they are meant to apply to any class-exploitative system anywhere, whether or not capitalist. Marx thus writes in the third volume of Capital (pp. 770 et seq.): "the specific economic form, in which unpaid surplus labour is pumped out of direct producers, determines the relationship of rulers and ruled, as it grows out of production and, in turn, reacts upon it as a determining element. Upon this, however, is founded the entire formation of the economic community which grows out of the production relations themselves. . . . It is always the direct relationship of the owners of the conditions of production to the direct producers—a relation always naturally corresponding to a definite stage in the development of the methods of labor and thereby its social productivity—which reveals the innermost secret, the hidden basis, of the entire social structure, and with it the political form of the relation of sovereignty and dependence, in short, the corresponding forms of the State" (My italics).
The universal determinism frequently found in the pages of the Communist Manifesto is at the center of Engels's attention when he formulates what he takes to be its "fundamental proposition," its very "nucleus": "in every historical epoch, the prevailing mode of economic production and exchange, and the social organization necessarily following from it, form the basis upon which is built up, and from which alone can be explained, the political and intellectual history of that epoch; that consequently the whole history of mankind (since the dissolution of primitive tribal society, holding land in common ownership) has been the history of class struggles, contests between the exploiting and exploited, ruling and ruled classes; the history of these class struggles forms a series of evolution in which, now-a-days, a stage has been reached where the exploited and oppressed class—the proletariat—cannot attain its emancipation from the sway of the exploiting and ruling class—the bourgeoisie—without at the same time, and once for all, emancipating society at large from all exploitations, class distinctions and class struggles."31 Engels added that "this proposition is destined to do for history what Darwin's theory has done for biology."
Clearly, then, there were a set of assumptions concerning the dominance of the mode of production for other spheres of society that were not meant to apply to capitalism alone. On the contrary, this universal determinism provides the ''covering laws" of which the laws of capitalism are special cases, and on which they rest. It is just this universal determinism that came to be called "historical materialism." And it is precisely because they apply to all class-exploitative societies that even such a friendly and meticulous interpretation of Marxism as that offered by Irving Zeitlin32 and Victor Perez-Diaz33 should feel free, simply in passing, to characterize it as an "economic determinism.''
It is clear that while Marx and Engels issued an easement on economic determinism as a unilinear evolutionism, they never went all the way. They never relinquished the two synchronic forms of economic determinism—particular and universal determinism. Moreover, Marx and Engels released themselves from unilinear evolutionism only by assuming the Russian Revolution to have a surrogate industrial base in central Europe to compensate for its own lack of one. And even as they take leave of unilinear evolutionism, and from its implication that capitalism was inevitable everywhere, it is notable that they are not equally emphatic in proclaiming that socialism could be achieved without a prior experience with capitalism. (One can see in this ambiguity the doctrinal sources of Menshevism, which tended to continue to emphasize that the bourgeois revolution had to precede the socialist. Correspondingly, one can also see here some of the doctrinal sources of Trotsky's emphasis on permanent revolution with its insistence on the importance of central European aid for the Russian Revolution.) Marx and Engels seem much readier to deny the inevitability of capitalism, but much more reluctant to come right out and say that capitalism is dispensable for socialism. They do a good bit of "waffling" and glossing concerning the latter. For if socialism could be achieved without a prior passage through capitalism, why stop there? Why could not socialism also be achieved without a society's prior experience of feudalism or slavery? Indeed, this was precisely the problem Engels had anticipated in answering Tkachev that, by the latter's own reasoning, the best basis for socialism was an already classless tribal society.
In denying capitalism was inevitable, Marx and Engels had opened up the possibility of a socialism without a prior capitalism, or had hedged about this; they thereby began to blur the entire question of the requisites of socialism, whether anything at all was necessary for achieving socialism—and, if so, what? The pressure from the revolution in Russia had resulted in Marx and Engels unlocking—but not actually opening—the door to a fully voluntaristic and Critical Marxism that might turn its back on the severe structural requirements of their own Scientific Marxism. Opening that now unlocked door, however, remained the historical task of Lenin. And as the possibility arose genielike from the theoretical pressure that any society might at any time opt for socialism, as the requisites for socialism grew suddenly ambiguous, so, also, did the very nature of socialism itself. If we have no picture of the parents, we cannot say what the child will be. Socialism's own nature might, therefore, be as multiform as the conditions which might produce it.
There was, as mentioned earlier, a second set of critical texts, often cited but rarely appreciated. They are all written by Engels and are cited most commonly for "public relations" purposes, i.e., to soften Marxism's image as an economic determinism. If the discussion around the question of the Russian Revolution had released Marxism from determinism as unilinear evolutionism, Engels's later letters can be regarded as an attempt to do something similar at the level of synchronic universal determinism. Although Engels does not succeed, it is evident that he was converging on this.
Yet something considerably more important was also afoot in these last letters, which, be it noted, correspond in time to Engels's capsule summary of the Manifesto's "fundamental proposition'' in its 1888 edition. The really important thing about them is that they exhibit Engels in the very process of explicating Marxism's paradigm; they indicate the specific sociological conditions which led to this effort; and, most importantly, they reveal quite clearly the level at which he pitched the paradigm. In particular, these letters make it plain that, analytically, Engels chose to center Marxism's paradigm not at the level of either unilinear determinism or synchronic particularistic determinism (capitalism), but at the level of synchronic universal determinism (historical materialism). Thus in Engels's paradigm for Marxism, historical materialism becomes more central, while evolutionism and capitalism's special political economy become less so. In short, the most consequential commitments were made.
Engels's texts to follow are all characterized by much the same features: (1) They are all written by Engels after Marx's death in 1883, as Engels in his loneliness faces his own mortality and gives thought to the image that posterity will have of his work with Marx. These are the letters of a man setting his house in order. They are methodologically reflective efforts at remedying defects, dissociating the Marxist legacy from friendly but vulgar interpretations, sharpening its argument, and, above all, attempting to reduce the dissonance within it without departing from the theory's main commitments. In short, Engels is exhibiting that "imperishable" human motive, namely, trying to gloss over contradictions in the system. Engels never pretended to be god.
(2) These texts uniformly indicate that Marxism is to be understood as a general theory of social systems the latter being characterized expressly in terms of the reciprocal influence of different elements of the system upon one another. The formulations of earlier texts, such as their German Ideology and The Communist Manifesto, had often featured one-way connections stressing that social being determines social consciousness or that material conditions determine ideologies. They had not systematically emphasized the reciprocal impact of consciousness on "social being" or of ideas on material conditions. These one-way formulations are now replaced by Engels's systematic focus on the two-way, mutual influence of different social regions on one another.
(3) This interaction effect, however, is invariably qualified by assertions that, in the long run or in the final instance, the economic infrastructure determines all the others, despite the fact that these other superstructural elements react back upon the economic infrastructure.
(4) We are, however, never told how to determine when the "final instance" or "the long run" has arrived. One implication is that the insertion of the focus on system interaction is a gloss rationalizing, but not basically changing, the priority formerly given to the economic infrastructure. In this interpretation, Engels leans toward an intransigent "economism." In another interpretation, however, it is precisely because there is no way of knowing when the final instance has arrived in which the economic infrastructure has its last word, that the final instance is an analytic millennium which, hallowed in ritual mention, can now be forgotten in daily theoretical practice. Analysis is thenceforward devoted to the concrete study of the mutual influence of all system elements, and the economic element would simply become a heuristic entering point, resolving the question of where one begins to deal with a system of interacting elements. In this view, Engels is surreptitiously surrendering economism. What, then, was Engels doing—protecting the priority of the economic, limiting, or undermining it? The systems interaction paradigm Engels crystallized was ambiguous, a symptom of a conflict Engels was striving to contain. Scientific Marxism would interpret this paradigm as asserting the power of the economic in the last instance; Critical Marxism could view it as allowing a new weight to the superstructure and, via its stress on ''interaction," as a step toward an emphasis on the "totality." Engels's paradigm thus opened the way for both Scientific and Critical Marxism's development.
A few examples from this second set of Engels texts may suffice. In his letter to Conrad Schmidt of 5 August 1890, Engels reminds Schmidt that "the materialist conception of history . . . has a lot of friends to whom it serves as an excuse for not studying history. Just as Marx used to say with regard to the French 'Marxists' of the late seventies: 'All I know is that I am not a Marxist.'" Unfortunately, Engels then promptly drops that terribly interesting if now too familiar phrase, treating it as a bon mot, rather than as an occasion for serious reflection. Yet how is it possible that a theory comes to be vulgarized in this manner by its very devotees—is it simply because the epigones are lazy? Unless we can develop a serious answer to this I do not think that we can even begin to know what a theory is.
Engels continues in this mood of methodological alertness, unhappy in particular with "many of the younger writers in Germany" to whom the word "materialistic" serves as a mere phrase as a label to be pasted on their views, and a substitute for further study. "But our conception of history," insists Engels, ''is above all a guide to study, not a lever for construction after the manner of the Hegelians." Again, Engels makes it clear that his target is "many of the younger Germans [who] simply make use of the phrase, historical materialism . . . in order to get their own relatively scanty historical knowledge ... fitted together into a neat system as quickly as possible, and they then think themselves something very tremendous."
Engels is here attempting to induce young German socialists to do serious historical research, to treat the Marxist intellectual legacy as a theory to be applied rather than to be canonized. In a word, Engels has a very good sense of what "normal science" is about, and what would be necessary to make Marxism a normal science. ''Only a little has been done here up to now," he complains, ''because only a few people have got down to it seriously." That the line between establishing a paradigm and canonizing it is a very fine one is discernible when Engels affirms that ''in this field we can utilise masses of help." In other words, what is needed are people willing to work within the paradigm and "apply" it, rather than reexamine it critically in its fundamentals. But this is still not the sacralising sentiment of the canonizer; it is only the politics of any scientific innovator who wants to mobilize students to flesh out his rough outline; it is still normal science, or Engels's effort to normalize Marxism as science. There is as yet nothing inherently dogmatic about it—seen from the standpoint of normal science. On the contrary, Engels's remarks are cheerfully antidogmatic and disdainful of those who want to build a "neat system" on the cheap. Anyone who works seriously, he promises the young men, can "distinguish himself:" There are, then, intellectual careers to be made here; this is always the promise of the paradigm-builder. Engels's antidogmatic insistence on serious scholarship and his skepticism about system always had the danger of fostering a "revisionism" and an Eduard Bernstein— whose mentor Engels was.
In his letter to Schmidt, Engels also comments on their basic intellectual paradigm, "historical materialism," observing that "the conditions of existence of the different formations of society must be individually examined before the attempt is made to deduce from them the political, civil-legal, aesthetic, philosophic, religious, etc., notions corresponding to them." The ''conditions of existence" and "formations" are certainly vague enough, but this is a letter to a friend who will understand. Yet there is no sign here of Engels the vulgarizer who presumably reduces everything to technology. Indeed, a few sentences earlier, he had had a chance for that when he stated that how products get divided in society "depends ten how much there is to divide, and this must surely change with the progress of production and social organization, so that the method of division may also change." In other words, how things get divided, according to Engels, depends on how much there is to divide and the kind of "social organization" there is— not just the technology. Yet while Engels does not appear to be as technologically obsessed as some critics suggest, there is no doubt that he operates within the basic paradigm in which consciousness is to be deduced from (because dependent on) the "conditions of existence."
Engels accepts this; his point is that before you can make such a deduction from the material conditions you must first study and know them. The paradigm still requires an encounter with the concrete history of different social worlds, rather than textual examination and reexaminations of Marx's writings. This, however, is part of what earns Engels the stigma of "positivist"; but those condemning him as such miss the manner in which Engels was attempting to use historical scholarship as a defense against the reification and canonization of Marxism. If this was "positivism," clearly Marxism needed more of it. Moreover, Engels is also at pains to reject dustbowl empiricism, insisting as (in a letter to Schmidt on 17 October 1889) that "only a clear theoretical vision can guide the way through the labyrinth of facts."34
Then, there is Engels's much cited letter of 21 September 189035 to J. Bloch, in which he holds that "according to the materialist conception of history the determining element (moment) in history is ultimately production and reproduction in real life. More than this neither Marx nor I have ever asserted." Above all, this does not mean that "the economic element is the only determining one." For while "the economic situation is the basis . . . the various elements of the superstructure—political forms of the t lass struggle and its consequences, constitutions established by the victorious class after a successful battle, etc.,—forms of law— and then even the reflexes of all these actual struggles in the brains of the combatants: political, legal, philosophical theories, religious ideas and their further development into systems of dogma—also exercise their influence upon the course of historical struggles and in many cases preponderate in determining their form. There is an endless interaction of all these elements, in which, amid all the endless host of accidents . . . the economic movement finally asserts itself as necessary. . . . We make our own history, but in the first place under very definite presuppositions and conditions. Among these the economic ones are finally decisive. But the political, etc., ones, and indeed even the traditions which haunt human minds, also play a part, although not the decisive one.
Clearly, what is being crystallized in this letter is an emphasis on the interaction of all elements within a framework in which the economic remains finally decisive. The latter underscores an essential aspect of the paradigm, and reference to it here is not merely ritualistic. Yet Engels acknowledges his and Marx's overemphasis on the economic which, he says, "we had to emphasize . . . in opposition to our adversaries, who denied it, and we had not always the time, the place or the opportunity to allow the other elements involved in the interaction to come into their rights." The effort here, then, is to underscore the weight of the other elements, to defend Marxism from the appearance of being a single factor theory by bringing into focus elements in the superstructure, and by stressing that the relationship among these several different elements was that of "interaction." It is this that is most salient in this letter, not that the economic elements "are finally decisive."
Once again, Engels expresses the sense that somehow things have gone wrong with "the younger writers." Clearly, there was emerging a generation problem in the transmission of Marxist theory. The young generation was somehow vulgarizing Marxism, and Engels was using his last letters to set matters straight. He saw the legacy in peril and thought the peril came from young writers and intellectuals who "think they have fully understood a theory and can apply it without more ado from the moment they have mastered its main principles, and those even not always correctly.
Yet it seems odd. Why shouldn't a theory be "fully understood" and successfully applied by those who have "mastered its main principles"? How else does one master a theory; what else is necessary for theoretical mastery'? Above all, Engels seems to be saying that a theory cannot be mastered simply by studying the texts in which it is embodied but has to be applied in fresh efforts at understanding new materials. But how could such efforts actually deepen one's understanding of the theory, enable one to master it, since after all, the facts—as we saw Engels remarking earlier—are to be viewed from the standpoint of theory, not the theory from the standpoint of the facts? There seems to be an unresolved problem here that is not so much due to the younger generation's intellectual laziness or presumptuousness, but is linked to what a theory is. When we later return to this problem we shall see that, if a theory is to be thought "mastered," it must be used in the same way as those judging the persons employing it, rather than by simply reciting it. Thus the problem becomes, Why is the younger generation not using the theory in the same way as Engels (or the older generation) used it, or thought they used it? But we must table this for later exploration.
In another letter of 27 October 1890 to Conrad Schmidt, Engels once more takes up the theme of the relative independence of various social sectors noting that "in the last instance production is the decisive factor. But when trade in products becomes independent of production itself, it follows a movement of its own, which, while it is governed as a whole by production .. . within this general dependence follows particular laws contained in the nature of this new factor." In that connection, Engels notes that conquest of India was first occasioned by the desire for imports, yet there was soon a colossal reaction of the import trades upon industry; "they first created the need for exports to these countries and developed large-scale industry." Like Marx, Engels concurred that industry was spurred by commerce, and that the industrial revolution was preceded by a commercial expansion.
Further pursuing the theme of the relative independence of various social sectors, Engels observed that while the state grows out of society the state administration soon acquires "particular interests, distinct . . . from the interests of those who gave them their office; they make themselves independent of the latter and—the state is in being." There is a resultant "interaction of two unequal forces'' that is, between the new economic movement and the new political power in ''which each strives for as much independence as possible. . . . On the whole, the economic movement gets its way, but it has also to suffer reactions from the political movement."
And again, Engels speaks of "realms of ideology" such as belief in magic and spirits which have a "negative economic basis," as being grounded in "the low economic development of the prehistoric period"; in turn, the low economic development of that period is "also partially conditioned and even caused by the false conceptions of nature." The emergence of science is gradually ''clearing away this nonsense" when it is not replacing it with new nonsense ''already less absurd." "The people who deal with this belong in their turn to special spheres in the division of labour and appear to themselves to be working in an independent field. And insofar as they form an independent group within the social division of labour, insofar do their productions, including their errors, react back as an influence upon the whole development of society, even on its economic development. But all the same they themselves remain under the dominating influence of economic development.
Again and again: each sector has a measure of independence, yet it is also in interaction with the others, affecting and shaping their development and even the development of the economic infrastructure which remains the dominant sphere. Moreover, there is no uncritical admiration of science which, as Engels observes, sometimes replaces the old nonsense with its own fresh nonsense and is, on the whole, subordinate to the mode of production. Science is the new historically progressive force, but is scarcely the last word in enlightenment. In all this, Engels repeatedly calls attention to Marx's Eighteenth Brumaire which (he indicates) exemplifies the proper application of historical materialism, adding curiously that ''there are also many allusions in Capital." 36
In his letter of 25 January 189437 to Starkenberg, Engels writes that "the economic conditions which we regard as the determining basis of the history of society are the methods by which human beings in a given society produce their means of subsistence and exchange the products among themselves.... Thus the entire technique of production and transport is here included.'' Technique, therefore, is included in the determining economic conditions, but the latter are not at all here reduced to technology. Indeed, "under economic conditions are further included tile geographical basis on which they operate." So, too, is race itself. Yet while "technique largely depends on the state of science, science depends far more still on the state and the requirements of technology . . . unfortunately, it has become the custom in Germany to write the history of the sciences as if they had fallen from the sky." Here again, Engels reiterates that ideologies interact with one another and react back upon economic development, but "economic necessity" ultimately asserts itself. Again, Starkenberg is directed to read Marx's Eighteenth Brumaire and Engels's own Anti-Duhring.
How are we to understand the direction Engels has taken here in these last letters? And what do they and the other texts tell us about the "differences" between Engels and Marx?
1. Norman Levine, The Tragic Deception: Marx contra Engels (Santa Barbara: Clio Books, 1975), p. 104.
2. Richard J. Bernstein, Praxis and Action: Contemporary Philosophies of Human Activity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1971), p. 58. This somewhat glowing interpretation of Marxism glosses its internal contradictions and reduces it to a philosophy of praxis, thereby implying that the generations of Marxists, who had viewed it as a scientific socialism, were altogether mistaken. Despite this lopsidedness, in which no textual evidence is offered to justify Bernstein's views, it is refreshingly lucid and of considerable originality. Even more original is his The Structuring of Social and Political Theory (London: Basil Blackwell, 1976).
3. Bernstein, Praxis and Action, p. 64.
4. Melvin Rader, Marx's Interpretation of History (New York: Oxford University Press, 1979). Rader quotes from the Charles Kerr edition of 1904, pp. 11-12, while the last sentence quoted is Rader's own rendition on his p. 15.
5. Moreover, the question is not so much what bedingt means today, but how it was used in Marx's own time by educated Germans. The Grimms' dictionary gives us some indication of this (see Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm, Deutsches Worterbuch [Leipzig: Herzel, 1854]). Although Rader holds that Marx would have used bestimmt had he wished to say the mode of production "determines" rather than "conditions" the superstructure, the Grimms, however, note that bestimmen was then a synonym for bedingen. Moreover, they also note that bedingt is grounded in causa. Finally, bedingt is built upon ding which means thing. This suggests that when Marx used bedingt, he was implying a mode of influence appropriate to inanimate objects, to produced objects rather than to the actions of persons, or at least likening the doing and action of persons to the making of objects, to which indeed bedingt refers. Bedingt thus seems to resonate the notion of an external causation imposed on things. It therefore implies strong not weak control over the object made, a binding rather than, say, an inducement. My colleague, Steven Schwarzschild, indicates that his own studies of Hegel's usage of bestimmt suggest that this often referred to the Geist's control over human affairs. Bedingt, then, would have a more mechanistic resonance, while bestimmt had a more organicist import, or what Louis Althusser has referred to as the "expressionist" model of Hegel's logic of causation. It may be that Marx's use of bedingt was not an effort to tone down determinism, but to avoid Hegel's form of expressionist determinism. Bedingt would also be more consistent with Marx's theory of alienation, for with its conflation of making and doing and its stress on the former, the sense is that man is now not treated as a proper human "subject" but is controlled as if a thing—is thingified. Moreover, the more mechanistic resonance of bedingt would also seem to be more consistent (than bestimmt) with Marx's growing convergence with the mechanistic logic of nineteenth century science's determinism.
6. Karl Marx, The Poverty of Philosophy (New York: International Publishers, n.d.), p. 92
7. Levine, Tragic Deception, p. xvii.
8. Much is sometimes made of the fact that Marx once briefly mentioned that one conceivable outcome of the class struggle is that both parties could be ruined; and once Marx said, in passing, that the choice was ''socialism or barbarism." These, I take it, are simply different (negative) forms in which the doom of capitalism may come, but not forms in which that doom is escaped. And both are fugitive remarks, not considered and developed statements.
9. Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Selected Correspondence, 1846 - 1895, trans. Dona Torr (New York: International Publishers, 1942), p. 519.
10. Jonathan Frankel, ea., Vladimir Akhimov on the Dilemmas of Russian Marxism, 1895-1903 (London & New York: Cambridge University Press, 1969), p. 7.
11. Robert C. Tucker, ea., The Marx-Engels Reader (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1972), cited by Engels on p. 5S9.
12. On this see the excellent discussion by Shlomo Avineri, The Social and Political Thought of Karl Marx (London and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1968), chapter 6, ''The Revolutionary Dialectics of Capitalist Society."
13. Tucker, Marx-Engels Reader, p. 590: Engels's reply to Tkachev was written in 1874 and published as a separate pamphlet in 1875.
14. Ibid., pp. 589-90.
15. Ibid., pp. 599, 592.
16. Ibid., p. 597.
18. Frankel, Vladimir Akhimov, p. 8.
19. Marx and Engels, Selected Correspondence, p. 352. Actually, this formulation is that of N. K. Mickhailovski, the populist to whom he was replying, but Marx adheres here to that problematic. Only five years earlier, Marx had ridiculed Bakunin for expecting "the European social revolution . . . at the level of the Russian or Slavic agricultural or pastoral people. "
20. Ibid., p. 352. Marx wrote this letter in French.
21. Ibid., p. 353.
24. Ibid., pp. 353-54. Italics added.
25. Ibid., p. 354.
27. Ibid., p. 355. Dona Torr's translation strangely reads ".. . starting point of an historical development," but David McLellan and Dirk J. Struik also use the wording I follow here. See Birth of the Co7rlulunist Manifesto, ed. D. J. Struik (New York: International Publishers, 1975), p.132. The German reads: ''... dann kann das heutige russische Gemeineigentum zum Ausgangspunk einer kommunistischen Entwicklung dienen." Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Das Kommunistische Manifest, ed. Erich Gleischer (Munich: Verlage der SPO, 1946) p. 7.
28. Karl Marx, Selected Writings, ed. David McLellan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), p. 577.
29. See ibid., p. 436.
30. Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, vol. I, translated from the 4th German ed. by Eden and Cedar Paul, published in 2 vols with an introduction by G. D. H. Cole (London and Toronto: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1930), vol. 2, p. 846.
31. Communist Manifesto, by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, authorized English edition of 1888, supervised by Engels, published by Charles H. Kerr, Chicago, pp. 7 - 8.
32. Irving M. Zeitlin, Marxism: A Re-Examination (New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold Co., 1967), p. 81. An intelligent Hegelian and an unaccountably neglected discussion whose serious scope is compressed into an economical and lucid formulation.
33. Victor M. Perez-Diaz, State, Bureaucracy and Civil Society: A Critical Discussion of the Political Theory of Karl Marx (London: Macmillan Publishers, 1978), p. 70. A sure-footed and sometimes brilliant contribution of great promise. Perez-Diaz may be in the process of creating a left functionalism.
34. Marx and Engels, Selected Correspondence, p. 475. The letter to Schmidt of 5 August 1890 precedes this.
36. Ibid., p. 477.
37. Ibid., p. 516.
From Alvin W. Gouldner, The Two Marxisms. New York: Oxford University Press, 1980, Chapter 8 - " 'Economic Determinisms' in Marxism," pp. 222-249.
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