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Paresh Chattopadhyay, Studies in Marxism

Marx is a disregarded author. The systematization of his critical theory, the impoverishment which has accompanied its divulgation and diffusion, the manipulation and censorship of his writings and their instrumental utilisation for political ends have rendered Marx incomprehensible.

The new historical-critical edition of the Complete Works of Marx and Engels — Marx-Engels Gesamtausgabe (MEGA) — aims to restitute integrally the writings of the two authors, originally left incomplete and, in large parts, still unpublished. This is particularly true of Marx’s work. The volume under consideration contains the results of the most recent research in this regard by some of to-day’s leading Marx scholars presented at a conference under the same title at Naples (Italy) in April, 2004.

Musto’s ‘Introduction’ to the collection offers the proper spirit of the new MEGA.

In spite of the enormous spread of Marx’s work and its mutation into Party-State ideology, there has not been till now an integral edition of Marx’s work. After Marx’s death an attempt at systematisation of his originally incomplete works was undertaken by Engels — especially by his publication of Capital, volumes two and three. Later the systematisation was rigidified as ‘Marxism’ mainly by Kautsky, further enhanced by the Russian Marxists ultimately appearing as ‘Marxism-Leninism’. Now, thanks to the new MEGA Marx’s works re-emerge in their original form.

After the ‘Introduction’ the papers are divided into four sections: (1) the new MEGA, (2) critique of philosophy and politics in young Marx, (3) Capital, ‘the incomplete critique’, (4) Marx to-day. In what follows we first give a résumé of the content before proceeding to offer a few remarks on the multidisciplinary papers, given our own limitations.

Content

The first section begins with an excellent presentation by M. Neuhaus ‘Classic among the classics’ on the tortuous trajectory of the work of publication of the texts of Marx and Engels starting with the great work of David Riazanov which laid the historical-philological basis and created a whole scholarly edition of Marx-Engels editing through the publication of the first MEGA. The rise of the Nazi power and Stalin’s increasing terror — liquidating Riazanov along with his associates in the process — interrupted the MEGA work. The work recommenced in 1960s and 1970s in Moscow and Berlin under the auspices of the ruling Party. As regards the editorial principles of the new MEGA there was the postulate of completeness. Only a complete reproduction of the entire literary bequest of Marx and Engels was aimed at, both hitherto published and the unpublished — the latter just as they were left by their authors. However, the editors were placed in a difficult situation: balancing between the Party line and the demands of rigorous scientific editorial work. This tension could only end after 1989. After a short period of uncertainty faced by the project, the International Marx-Engels Foundation (IMES) was established in 1990 conjointly by the Institute of Social History (IISG) of Amsterdam and the Trier Karl Marx House of the Frederick-Ebert Foundation. Later MEGA became a part of the academic programme and was accepted as a project of the Berlin Brandenburg Academy of Sciences (BBAW). Most importantly the new MEGA was finally de-politicised and de-ideologised particularly as regards the editorial comments. Marx’s place among the great classics of European scientific thought has finally been restored. Neuhaus ends his excellent presentation by underlining the different kinds of challenges faced by the editors in bringing out an authentic edition of the works of the two authors.

G. Hubmann, in his important work of solid scholarship, ‘Incomplete Classics’, discusses the mode of editing the (German) classics in the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth and compares this with editing the works of Marx. Hubmann takes the cases of some great authors. Thus the edition of Hegel’s works — considered standard for a long time — contains some texts which were in fact created by his students and followers after his death from his lecture notes and sketches. Only now have Hegel’s authentic texts seen the light of the day in a historical-critical edition. Mutatis mutandis the same fate befell Max Weber’s Economy and Society, passing for a finished work, only corrected now in a new edition. The same goes for the works for Nietzsche and Burkhardt. Contrary to the new editing and publishing style, aptly called by Hubmann ‘philological deconstruction’, the earlier style aimed at completion and readability of the works left unfinished by the authors often following their presumed intention. Engels’s editorial work on Capital followed this conception.

In his article ‘Research on Marx in Japan’ I. Omura gives a neat presentation of the development of research on Marx and Engels and translation of their writings, particularly centred on the MEGA work group at the University of Sendai. The history of translation of the works of Marx and Engels, starting in 1904 reflects the history of the influence and spread of Marxism in Japan. In 1975 the complete works of Marx and Engels on the basis of the German editionMarx-Engels Werke (MEW) appeared in translation. After 1975 the translation of manuscripts of Capital, appearing in the second MEGA has continued. The Sendai group took charge of the second MEGA edition.

M. Sylvers in his article ‘Correspondence in MEGA’ discusses the importance of the correspondence between Marx and Engels as well as their own correspondence with others –altogether 15000 letters. Sylvers stresses the great importance of the correspondence not only for a clearer understanding of the thought and political activities of the two authors but also as an indispensable source of information on the dating and progress of their work.

G. Mario Bravo discusses in his excellent paper ‘Marx and Marxism in the Early Italian Left’ the diffusion, popularisation, vulgarisation of Marx and Marxism in Italy. The culture of Marx and Marxism progressed in Italy from a modest beginning where Labriola’s contribution was exceptional. Expansion and popularisation of Marxism took place notably between 1871 — facilitated by the work of the First International and the Paris Commune — and the start of the Fascist régime. There were all kinds of personalities, associations and parties of different tendencies in this process. The result was a Marxism devalued and rendered economicist — the exception being Labriola. In the first years of the twentieth century Italy saw a schematic, deterministic Marxism which nevertheless was able to attribute an identity to the workers’ movement. Beginning with the end of the First World War there arose a new breed of Marxists –Bordiga, Serrati, Gramsci for whom the history of Marxism was confounded with the history of socialism.

In the second section of the collection M. Cingoli’s paper ‘Marx and Materialism’ offers a three phase presentation of Marx’s changed position on materialism in his early years. The first is marked by the influence of romanticism, and Naturphilosophie, critique of materialism, preparation for his doctoral dissertation, articles in the Rheinische Zeitung, the second phase saw the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right, while the third saw the Parisian manuscripts of 1844 and the Holy Family.

P. Thomas’spaper ‘The Carnival of Philosophy’ is a fine, neat presentation of Marx’s doctoral dissertation on Democritus and Epicurus. He shows Marx’s rejection of Hegel’s denigration of Epicurus as a post-Aristotelian minor philosopher. Thomas also forcefully argues against the idea that Marx’s materialism starts with his thesis.

G. Cacciatore’s ‘The democratic Marx’ offers a three-level analysis of the concept of democracy in Marx — historical-philological, philosophical, and political where the first is left out by him. During the early part of 1842-43 Marx, following Hegel, considered the state as the juridical-formal expression of the general interest. Only starting with his Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right (1843-44) Marx confronts the problem of democracy directly where he attacks Hegel’s devaluation of sensuous reality and Hegel’s inversion of the subject-object relation. It is finally with the German Ideology (1845-46) that there occurs Marx’s radical rupture with Hegel’s ‘pantheistic mysticism’ and his passage from liberal-democracy to communism.

M. Musto’s important contribution ‘Marx in Paris: the Critique of 1844’ deals with Marx’s Parisian manuscripts. It was only in Paris that Marx started to study political economy seriously with a stimulus from Engels’s earlier critique of political economy. Backed by an enormous amount of study and research Marx’s guiding principle was to demystify (bourgeois) political economy. In these manuscripts Marx particularly dwells upon the problem of ‘alienated labour’.

G. Borrelli in his contribution ‘Politics of the Communists in Marx’s early writings’ underlines the centrality of Marx’s writings between 1843 and 1852. He classes Marx’s intellectual work into three periods: the first from the Hegel-critique (1843) to EighteenthBrumaire (1852), the second between mid fifties and the end of sixties marked by the dominance of Marx’s economic writings and the third characterised by intense political work where the The Civil War in France (1871) and The Critique of the Gotha Programme (1875) stand out. The author focuses on the third.

S. Kouvélakis’s ‘Marx and the Critique of Politics’ dwells on Marx’s early political theory in light of his Civil War in France (1871). The experience of the Paris Commune allowed Marx to rectify a certain number of earlier elaborations leading him to conclude that the 1789 French Revolution could not be repeated but could only be surpassed by a new revolution whose historical actor would be the proletariat, and that this revolution must destroy the state. Also the question of proletarian power was rethought.

R. Finelli starting the third section with ‘The Science of Capital as the “Circle of Prepositing-Positing”’ advances several propositions. He holds that the trajectory of German idealism from Fichte to Hegel led to a new criterion of truth in the theory of knowledge which the author calls the ‘circle of prepositing-positing’. Marx’s Capital precisely realised this new scientific paradigm. On this point the analogy between Marx and Hegel is as profound as the difference between them.

In his paper ‘A Transubstantiation is haunting’ G. Reuten claims to offer a new interpretation of the opening three chapters of Capital, I. Value’s introvert constituent is abstract labour in Chapter One while its extrovert constituent is money in Chapter Three. After introducing the concept of value-form in chapter one, Marx only occasionally uses the term, because this concept is concretised in money. Similarly ‘abstract labour’ after appearing in section one of Capital I as ‘simplified constituent of value’ almost disappears subsequently.

In his essay ‘Marx’s Capital and Hegel’s Logic’ C. Arthur aims to establish a correspondence between Marx’s Capital and Hegel’s Logic centring on Marx’s ‘exchange value’.

R. Bellofiore, in his article ‘Marx after Hegel’ envisages a ‘reconstruction of the Marxian (economic) theory’ which assumes a macroeconomic optic and emphasises that the capitalist process is a monetary sequence with bank money opening the circuit. This necessitates the abandonment of the theory of money as a commodity.

In his essay ‘Hegel, Schelling and Surplus Value’ E. Dusseladvances two theses: (1) Necessary relevance of Hegel’s Logic for Marx’s Capital and (2) Marx’s reconstruction of Hegelian categories in Capital through the introduction of Schelling’s way of viewing ‘surplus value’ appearing to capitalists as coming ‘ex nihilo’.

J. Bidet,in his paper ‘The Metastructural Reconstruction of Capital’, underlines that in Marx concepts such as value and surplus value are double faced — economic and juridical-political. Marx proceeds from commodity to the organised form — that is, socialism unaware that market and organisation are the two structural poles of capitalism. Thus Marx recognised two faces but not two poles. Marx also shows ambiguity on the question of ‘logical-historical.’

In his important, densely argued paper ‘Marx’s Process of Learning’ F. W. Haug considers the reproach addressed to Marx by some of his Hegel oriented readers that Marx’s trajectory of the critique of political economy, starting with the 1857-58 manuscripts and ending in his Marginal Notes on Wagner is a story of gradual regression, diluting his dialectic and popularising his work. At stake is the conception of the dialectic itself. Marx had effected a paradigmatic change both in philosophy with his ‘new materialism’ and in the critique of political economy during the period in question. This paradigmatic change is neither a symptom of decadence nor a sign of an exercise in vulgarisation. The critique of political economy is not a ‘system’ but a process of research and a process of learning of the researcher.

Opening the fourth section with his well worked and fine presentation ‘The Renewal of Political Economy’, M. Krätke stresses the irreplaceability of Marx in the process of renewing political economy. The author underlines that in the face of grossly unsatisfactory response of the conventional neo-classical economics to the economic problems of to-day, there is a revival of political economy where Marx’s ‘critique’ is not much in evidence. For the author Marx’s was a critique of economic categories in general and not of singular errors of singular theories. Similarly this critique, not limited to particular aspects of the capitalist mode of production, embraced its totality as well as its logical historical limits. However Marx has also left a number of problems with inadequate or no solution.

In his interesting paper ‘Why propose a finite communism?’ A. Tosel aims at a reformulation of the problematic of communism which is a result of a critical analysis of the Marxian theme which defines post-capitalist production as absolute production. In Marx’s early work he had precisely criticised Hegel’s substitution of finite human individuals by the absolute and infinite Idea. However in his critique of political economy Marx has the opposite stand. In communism the associated form replacing capital shows itself as the new infinite principle à la Hegel. It is time to develop the other Marxian concept of communist negation of capitalism, the determinate negation.

D. Jervolino,too, in his lucid presentation ‘Communism of Finiteness’ focuses on a vision of finite communism. Marx’s vision of a world of humans producing the historical world while producing themselves is also shared by the philosophy of modernity which goes back to Bacon who pioneered this idea encapsulated in his phrase ‘knowledge is power’. However, in reality, ‘everything is possible for the human’ has turned out to be ‘everything is possible over the human’. As opposed to the paradigm of production following a certain reading of Marx, Marx could also be read following the paradigm of finiteness.

In his article ‘Marxism, Globalisation and the Historical Balance sheet of Socialism’ D. Losurdo discusses the problems encountered by the builders of socialism in relatively backward lands faced with the globalisation of capital. Contrary to the earlier Marxian idea of building socialism abstracting from external obstacles, in to-day’s context of capital’s globalisation a country like China embarking on socialist construction has to compromise with capitalist countries in order to benefit from advanced technology without giving rise to a ‘new bourgeoisie. ’ In this regard Losurdo reproaches the Left critics who in the name of individual freedom condemn the socialist regimes.

In his interesting narrative ‘Contours of Anglo-Saxon Marxism’ A. Callinicos traces the trajectory of Marxism in Britain and the USA. Undistinguished before 1960s, Marxism underwent positive developments beginning with 1960s. In Britain New Left Review played in this an important role. In the USA the Frankfurt School had a positive impact on the radical youth. In Britain Althusser exercised a certain influence on the youth along with Trotskyism thanks to Deutscher and Mandel. Then in 1980s with the advent of neo-liberalism Anglo-Saxon Marxism suffered a downturn However, an important development in Britain was the appearance of the journal Historical Materialism.

The collection ends with a knowledgeable and fine paper, ‘The Current State of Research on Marx in China’ by Wei Xiaoping which neatly outlines the trajectory of Marx studies in China since 1949. This period has seen two editions of the works of Marx/Engels in Chinese — the first, a translation of the ‘Collected Works’ during 1956-1985 from their Russian version and the second a translation — in progress — from the original German of the second version of the MEGA. There is now a tendency among the Chinese scholars to move away from the USSR’s ‘simplified’ and ‘dogmatised’ Marxism to the original texts of Marx and Engels, partly also stimulated by what a number of them consider as the closeness of Marx’s writings on alienation (1844) and early capitalism in Capital vol. I to the contemporary events in China. There is also a tendency to consider Marx as outdated.

Observations

In this section we offer a few remarks — given our own competence and limitations — on the specific issues in some arbitrarily selected papers which we find thought provoking and/or problematical. Excluded from this purview are particularly those papers which by their very nature do not require any comment. We mean basically the narratives (or those more narrative than analytical) in the collection — excellent in themselves — like those of Neuhaus, Omura, Bravo, Callinicos and Wei Xiaoping. Our remarks do not exactly follow the order in which the papers are presented in the collection.

We start with Musto’s fine Prologo. He should be praised for raising an important issue almost alone in this collection namely that Marx is unique compared to the other classics in that in him there is an indissoluble bond between theory and practice around a concrete aim: real movement for abolishing the present state of things by overturning the existing social relations. Relegating Marx to the role of a mummified classic of the past who has nothing to do with the daily struggles of the present will be making Marx play the same mummifying role as that which was assigned to him by the Party-State. The unmatched critic of capital remains fundamental for capital’s abolition (pp. 23-24). Having said this we have to register a couple of reservations regarding certain of Musto’s statements. These basically concern Engels. In connection with what he considers as Engels’s contribution to the ‘process of systematisation’ of Marx’s work, Musto refers to Engels’s statement that his Anti-Dühring was ‘a more or less unitary exposition of the dialectical method and communist world view represented by Marx and myself’. Now, first, in this statement Engels used the term ‘coherent’ ( zusammenhängend) and not exactly the stronger term ‘unitary’ which would be in German einheitlich. However, a more important point about this 1885 ‘Preface’ is Engels’s declaration:

Since the conception exposed here was in its much bigger part founded and developed by Marx and in the smallest part by me, it was self understood between us that any exposition here could not be done without his knowledge. I have read to him the whole manuscript before its printing.

Again, according to Musto ‘Engels’s recourse to natural sciences opened the road to the evolutionist conception’ which would be affirmed in the workers’ movement, and added correctly that in the cultural climate of the end of the nineteenth century Marx’s thought was pervaded by Darwinism. However, if evolutionism means, as the dictionary says, a progressive view of social change without discontinuity, then it is not clear how Engels could have an evolutionary outlook any more than Marx. Musto has not given any textual evidence. We could only say that there was hardly any difference between the two friends — in praise and in criticism — on Darwin.

In his important paper Hubmann very justly reproaches the decades-long unilateral ‘statist interpretation’ of Marx’s materialism. He raises a very important point — the possibility of non-correspondence between the artistic and the material production of a society — and draws reader’s attention to Marx’s posthumously published ‘Introduction’ (1857) from which he cites Marx speaking of the ‘unequal relation of the development of material production with e. g. artistic production’. Here, according to him, ‘historical materialism reaches its limit’ (p. 63) particularly as regards the relation between basis and superstructure. While we share Hubmann’s criticism of the unilateral interpretation of Marx’s materialism, we submit that Marx’s own remarks on materialism in the same text we find more nuanced. First, the final section of Marx’s text in question poses certain issues like the relation between a society’s art and its stage of material production — which is Hubmann’s concern — in an open-ended, non-definitive way saying that ‘these are not to be forgotten’, Marx might probably have thought of returning to them later. Particularly and more importantly, as to the ‘unequal relation’ in question, Marx nevertheless views it in a specific social context namely, that the ‘Greek art and epic are linked with a specific form of social development’ and he adds that this Greek art far from being in ‘contradiction with the underdeveloped stage of society’ rather shows that it ‘could arise only under immature social conditions.’Secondly, in this text Marx speaks literally of the ‘dialectic of the concepts: forces of production and relations of production’ and the need of ‘determining the limits’ of this ‘dialectic’. So, first, there is no mention of materialism here, and, secondly, ‘limits’ here refer to those of ‘concepts’, abstracting from the ‘real differences’. In the Grundrisse (1857-58), too, Marx took a similar position while speaking of the need to correct the idealist way of presentation ‘giving the appearance of the dialectic of concepts’.

Coming to Musto’s paper on Marx’s 1844 ‘Manuscripts’, he should be credited for emphasising an important little-discussed side of this work. From Musto’s paper the ‘Manuscripts’ come out as what they really are — the beginning of Marx’s ‘Critique of Political Economy’ separating Marx apart from (bourgeois) political economy (classical or otherwise). The ‘guiding thread’ of Marx’s work is ‘demystifying political economy’ by showing the historical and not ‘natural’ character of the economic categories, the transitory character of the existing relations of production and particularly stressing ‘alienated labour’ as not at all a human but a specific product of commodity society (p. 164).

In Borrelli’s paper we find a number of points which are contestable of which we take up two important ones. First, regarding future (proletarian) revolution he poses the question, which force could undertake this task, and answers that it could not be the ‘individual political subject’. The ‘figure of subjectivity completely disappears’ from Marx’s writings beginning with the end of 1840s. In its place is affirmed the ‘primacy of collective subject, the working class’ (p. 188). In support of his position Borrelli refers to Althusser, ‘the greatest interpreter of Marx in the twentieth century’ (p. 188). It is surprising that Borrelli, instead of relying on Marx’s own texts for his position depends on Althusser who, we submit, is not the best source for knowing Marx’s texts. In fact one could cite a number of counter examples opposed to this false Althusser-Borrelli dichotomy. In neither of the periods of Marx’s writings mentioned above is it a question of (political) individuals undertaking the revolutionary task. In both it is the working class whose task it is supposed to be. Secondly, in the writings of both the periods individuals do appear as subjects. It is sufficient for our demonstration to refer to texts in the first period showing the working class as the agent of (proletarian) revolution and to texts of the second period where individual appears as subject. One or two specimens should suffice. As regards the first period, in a text (1843-44) Marx, after posing the question: ‘from where comes the positive possibility of German freedom’, answers: ‘from the formation of a class with radical chains.’ In a text composed shortly thereafter Marx (and Engels) write that at a particular stage of the development of the productive forces, where they become destructive forces, ‘a class appears which has to bear all the burden of society without enjoying its advantages, a class from which emanates the necessity of a fundamental revolution.’ As to the second period, in an important text in Grundrisse Marx traces the entire evolution of humanity’s social forms — beginning with classes — around the change in situation of the individual in society: personal dependence (under slavery and serfdom), personal independence together with material dependence (under capitalism) and, finally, ‘free individuality based on the universal development of the individuals and the domination of their common social productivity as their social power.’ In his well known ‘Preface’ (1859) while speaking of social revolutions Marx underlines that one must always distinguish between revolutions in material conditions of production and the juridical, political, religious, artistic, philosophical, in short ideological forms in which ‘individuals (Menschen)’ become conscious of this conflict and fight it out.’[xiii] InCapital, vol. 1 Marx speaks of ‘all sided developed individuals,’ [xiv] and of ‘totally developed individuals’, [xv] as well as of post-capitalist society as a ‘(re)union of free individuals’. [xvi] As regards the second point in Borrelli’s paper requiring comment, we refer to his contention (p. 190) that there is a contradiction between Marx’s ‘Address’ on the Commune (1871) — stressing workers’ self rule — and his ‘Gothacritique’ (1875), emphasising the need for proletarian dictatorship during the transition between capitalism and communism. Here again Borrelli brings in an authority to sustain his position — Hannah. Arendt who allegedly finds ‘between these two writings’ a ‘contradiction left unresolved by Marx’ (p. 190). First a formal point. Arendt, [xvii] while discussing Marx’s ‘Address’ (1871), does not refer to his ‘Gothacritique’. She counterposes this ‘Address’ to another ‘Address’ by Marx (and Engels) delivered to the ‘Communist League’ the date of which she puts by an utter confusion as 1873. This confusion was further confounded by Borrelli with the ‘Gothacritique’ whereas this second ‘Address’ was delivered twenty-five years earlier! Leaving aside this formal error, what exactly is the Arendt-Borrelli objection to Marx? Arendt opposes the (self)emancipatory message of Marx’s 1871 ‘Address’ to the position taken in the 1850 ‘Address’ namely, that the ‘proletariat must work for the most decisive centralisation of power in the hands of the state authority’. [xviii] Now this selective presentation of the 1850 position to oppose the 1871 position totally ignores that in the body of the text of the 1850 ‘Address’ it is the ‘associated proletariat’ which will ‘concentrate in its hands the principal forces of production’. [xix] Hence by ‘state authority’ (in Arendt’s quotation from the text) is meant the ‘associated proletariat’. There is however a much more important point. The statist aspect in this ‘Address’ taken over from the Communist Manifesto would undergo a critical revision by its authors under the great impact of the 1871 Commune as is seen in the 1872 ‘Preface’ of the Manifesto. Moreover one should also note that in the Commune Marx rather saw the vindication of his own consistent anti-state position. Coming to Borrelli’s own (not Arendt’s) opposition between the 1871 ‘Address’ and the ‘Gothacritique’ we submit there is no contradiction between workers’ self-rule in the first and the ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ in the second if we remember that already in the 1848 Manifesto the workers’ rule — and not one party rule in workers’ name — is presented as the outcome of the ‘autonomous movement of the immense majority in the interest of the immense majority’, signifying ‘conquest of democracy’ and if we further recall that the proletarian dictatorship refers to a ‘state not in the usual sense of the term’ in Engels’s well-known phrase pointing precisely to the Commune which had no special apparatus of repression. We submit that this is the meaning of Marx’s sentence in the ‘Gothacritique’ that during the ‘revolutionary transformation period’ the ‘state can only be (nichts andres sein kann) the revolutionary dictatorship of the proletariat). [xx] In other words, during this period the political power of the proletariat — that is, the proletarian self-rule — can have only this least repressive form (repressive just enough to put down the revolt of the ‘slave holders’, an infinite minority). Most unfortunately Borrelli makes an (inadmissible) amalgam, in this connection, of Marx’s position and the ‘political project of the communists’ (pp. 190-91).

Kouvélakis’s paper invites two quick comments. First, he holds that Marx’s theory of revolution is the antipode of economism and evolutionism which supposed that only the most industrialised countries were mature for a proletarian revolution, which was, according to Kouvélakis, the case of the Second International who could not imagine that ‘Marx and Engels had been able to skip altogether the ‘objective conditions’ and the ‘laws of historical development’ (p. 197). By trivialising through single quotation marks the terms ‘laws of historical development’ and ‘objective conditions’ of the proletarian revolution and asserting that only the Second International held this position and thereby absolving Marx and Engels from such a ‘sin’, the author has in fact obfuscated the whole materialist conception of history misrepresenting in the process the position of Marx and Engels for which he has not given any textual evidence. Let us simply recall Marx’s classic position on this question: no society founders before all the productive forces that it can contain are developed, and new, higher relations of production never appear before the material conditions of their existence have been created within the old society itself. That is why ‘the humanity sets itself the tasks which it can solve, and the task itself arises where the material conditions of its solution already exist or are in the process of creation’. [xxi] To our knowledge Marx never abandoned this position. Is this not a ‘law of historical development’ from Marx’s point of view? A simpler, less dense version of essentially the same idea appears in the masterly account of Marx’s method by I. I. Kaufman, approvingly and admiringly cited by Marx in his ‘Afterword’ to Capital where Kaufman presents precisely Marx’s ‘law of history’ including ‘the law of motion of capital’. [xxii] To those who (the heroes of the Third International presumably) sought to ‘skip altogether’ the ‘objective conditions’ here is Marx’s reply:

Individuals create themselves a new world out of the historical acquisitions of their foundering world. In course of their development they must themselves first produce the material conditions of a new world. No effort of spirit or will can free themselves from this destiny. [xxiii]

A decade later Marx observed that if in the ‘existing society’ we do not already find the ‘material conditions of production and corresponding relations of commerce in a latent form for a classless society’, then all efforts at ‘exploding it’ would be ‘Donquixotism.’ [xxiv] This is again the message we read in Marx’s ‘Anti-Bakunin’ (1874). Secondly, Kouvélakis states that in his letter to Domela Nieuwenhuis (1881) Marx abandons ‘a definite form of insurrection’ marked by successive ‘journées’ and ‘barricades’ (p. 207, emphasis author’s). This is a surprising statement in as much as this letter at least explicitly contains not a trace of what the author is ascribing to Marx. On the other hand, Kouvélakis carefully avoids the most important thing Marx is doing here — reaffirming his materialist position on social revolution which Marx sums up with a telling algebraic metaphor: ‘we cannot solve any equation if it does not include in its data the elements of its solution’. [xxv] One should note that what Marx is saying here is perfectly in line with his 1859 statement which we mentioned above. It is in this light that Marx judges the work of the 1871 Commune in this letter.

In his paper Reuten claims he is offering a ‘new interpretation’ of Part I of Capital I with ‘implications for the interpretation of the whole work’ (p. 225). He says that ‘in Marx’s view money is a constituent element of value.’ Its ‘introversive constituent’ is abstract labour and its ‘extroversive constituent’ is money (p. 226, emphasis in text). [xxvi] We submit that Marx seems not to see things exactly this way. For him money is not a ‘constituent of value’. Money is rather ‘only a value-form of commodities’ [xxvii] and ’money-form is the finished form of value-form.’ [xxviii] The only ‘constituent’ or substance of value is ‘socially necessary labour’ or, under the commodity production as the social mode of production, ‘abstract labour’. Reuten, critical of Marx’s statement on money as a ‘measure of value’, says that this could mistakenly make one think of the existence of the entity of value independently of the measure that is, ‘independently of money’ (p. 227). Contrary to Reuten’s position, for Marx, value indeed exists independently of exchange value or value-form whose finished form is money-form. Money is the universal measure of value precisely because all commodities are, as values, materialised human labour and hence commensurable between them. ‘Money as the measure of value is the necessary phenomenal form of the immanent measure of value, the labour time.’ [xxix] In a world of use values money’s occupation would be gone.

The problem here is that Reuten does not seem to distinguish value from value-form or exchange value, [xxx] whereas this distinction, clearly made by Marx, is one of the crucial points of difference between Marx and the classics whom Marx faults for not making this distinction. [xxxi] Reuten does not seem to recognise the process of becoming of the money-form or the finished form of value- form. This process is clearly indicated by Marx when, speaking of the ‘difficulty of the concept of money-form’ he recalls the different stages of evolution of the value-form beginning with the ‘general equivalent form’ and going backward to the first or the ‘simple value-form’, and concludes that ‘ the simple value-form is the germ of the money-form.’ [xxxii]

Coming to the substance of value, what Reuten says could be presented in the form of following three propositions: (1) the immanent or ‘introversive constituent of value’ is undifferentiated ‘abstract labour’ (pp. 226-27), (2) there exists no obvious, unique way to measure ‘concrete labour’, the ‘introversive substance of value’, therefore Marx has recourse to the concept of ‘abstract labour’ as the ‘simplified constituent’ of value (p. 229, emphasis in text), (3) ‘abstract labour’ can be measured only if we assume that abstract labour is equal to concrete labour’ (p. 230, emphasis in text). When we analyse these propositions it appears, first, that Marx chose abstract labour rather than concrete labour to be the substance of value because the latter cannot be measured in a unique way. However, secondly, it seems that abstract labour also cannot be measured unless it is equalized with concrete labour. In other words, concrete labour, contrary to abstract labour, is measurable. So concrete labour appears to be both measurable and non measurable. We submit that this dialectic is beyond us. Again, assuming that by ‘constituent of value’ in the first proposition Reuten, following Marx, means ‘substance of value’, then, reading the first two propositions together, one could ask how concrete and abstract labour could both be the substance of value.

We are also told that once we have ‘fully constituted value in the presence of money’, the term ‘abstract labour’ almost disappears from the pages of Capital I (and finds no reference in the other two volumes) (pp. 229, 230). But then the question arises, does ‘abstract labour’ thereby cease to be the substance of value so that we have value simply as form but with no substance?

Reuten does not broach this point. In fact the term itself does not quite disappear. We see this at least in two places beyond Capital I — in the so-called ‘sixth chapter’ of Capital I, [xxxiii] which really forms the ‘transition ‘from volume I to volume II, [xxxiv] and in ‘Anti-Wagner.’ [xxxv] But the more important point is that if one remembers that for a society where ‘commodity production is the social mode of production’ [xxxvi] Marx takes ‘abstract labour’ as equivalent to ‘socially necessary labour’, then one could find the latter, standing for abstract labour as the value’s material substance, in many places in Marx’s work. [xxxvii]. Again, Reuten holds that the ‘term’ ‘value-form’ is “only occasionally used” after chapter I of Capital I because in chapter III the ‘concept’ is ‘concretised in its monetary expression’ (p. 227). Leaving aside the mixing up of ‘term’ and ‘concept’ in the presentation let us note that the ‘economic cell form of the bourgeois society’[xxxviii] isidentically expressed in Marx by the terms ‘value- form’, ‘commodity-form’, ‘exchange value.’ [xxxix] These three terms between them are used after chapter I at least 20 times in Capital I. Let us not be nominalists.

Bellofiore’s paper offers a good aperçu of the three volumes of Capital. However, his effort at ‘reconstructing Marxian theory’ in order to ‘avoid its leeways’ (p. 258) is not without problems.

We have space here only to deal with a couple of them. He starts by affirming that in his reading of Capital, ‘value is the monetary expression of labour alone’ (p. 253, emphasis in text). We submit it would be hard to support this statement on any ‘reading’ of Marx’s published texts. First, value is nothing but that ‘something common (das Gemeinsame) which manifests itself in the exchange relation or exchange value of commodities’ and ‘exchange value is the necessary form of expression of value’ whose ‘creative substance is labour.’ [xl] ‘Money-form is simply the finished form of value-form or exchange value’. [xli] Thus, instead of value being the (monetary) expression of labour, value itself — the creative substance of labour — is expressed by exchange value, hence by its finished form, money. Bellofiore’s position, therefore, is an inversion of Marx’s position. His ‘reading’ of Capital seems to ignore the distinction between value and exchange value.

In the author’s project of ‘reconstructing the Marxian theory’ the capitalist process is understood as ‘a sequence of monetary sequence, a circuit opened by bank money’ which has no value. This changed framework ‘necessitates the abandonment of money as a commodity’ (p. 258, emphasis in text). We submit that this is not a proper ‘reading’ of Marx’s monetary theory which is not simply a theory of commodity money. Commodity money in this theory of money is a ‘moment’ though an indispensable and basic ‘moment’ while another ‘moment’ is credit money. Marx attached great importance to the understanding of money as a commodity as opposed to all other commodities. [xlii] The starting point here is that ‘money does not originate in convention or in the state, but spontaneously in exchange whose product it is’. [xliii] To the same extent as the transformation of the products of labour into commodities is accomplished, ‘the transformation of one commodity into money is also accomplished.’ [xliv] Understanding this process is indispensable to comprehend the bourgeois production process itself. ‘It is the foundation of the bourgeois production process’ that money as the independent form of value ‘stands in opposition to commodities’, and this is only possible while a ‘distinct commodity becomes the general commodity in opposition to all other commodities.’ [xlv] This opposition is the ‘abstract and general form of all the antagonisms contained in bourgeois labour.’ [xlvi] Nothing of this profound logic has lost its relevance and lustre with the rise and dominance of credit money which has simply mystified and obscured the basic antagonisms. For all this, however Marx’s theory is not exclusively confined to commodity money. He speaks of ‘things without value, like paper’ functioning as the ‘symbol of gold money’ if its existence as symbol receives a legally sanctioned existence and thereby becomes ‘compulsory currency.’ While state’s paper money, the ‘finished form of the value token’ arises from metallic or simple circulation itself, ‘credit money belongs to a higher stage or higher sphere of the social production process and is regulated by completely different laws.’ [xlvii] Credit money has its ‘natural root in money’s function as a means of payment.’ [xlviii] Marx considers as ‘absurd’ the ‘question whether capitalist production in its present day range would be possible without credit money.’ [xlix] Perfectly aware of the importance of credit money in advanced capitalism, Marx nevertheless justifies his assumption of money as metallic money for Capital II on both historical and logical ground (s). Historical, because credit money had little role in the early stage of capitalist production, and logical, by the fact that

everything critical which Tooke and others have so far developed regarding circulation of credit money compelled them to go back repeatedly to the consideration of how would the thing present itself when based on purely metallic circulation. [l]

Though, contrary to his earlier plan, Marx did not (could not) treat credit under a separate rubric he did discuss to a non negligible extent — spread over his work — credit money including the money involved in ‘fictitious capital’ where ‘all connection with the valorization process disappears without leaving any trace.’ [li]

In his excellent presentation — closely argued and quite challenging — Krätke treats a large number of issues concerning Marx’s economic work to all of which unfortunately we cannot do justice, given space constraint. We propose to take up only a few of them for discussion.

According to the author Marx ‘began’ his ‘own critique of political economy’ in 1857 (p. 309). We submit that this critique really started in Marx’s 1844 manuscript(s) which Marx claimed to be the result of a ‘wholly empirical analysis’ based on ‘a conscientious critical study of political economy.’ [lii] In this first critique while praising Ricardo’s scientific attitude as shown in the latter’s ‘cynical expression’ of the ‘truth of political economy, freed from all human illusion’, as opposed to Sismondi, Marx asserts that ‘humanity exists outside and inhumanity inside political economy.’ [liii] In the manuscripts’ extensive notes on the economists Marx already debates the ‘unresolved questions left by them’, to cite Krätke’s words on Marx’s 1857-58 manuscripts (p. 310) (which — let us emphasise — carry over not a few ideas, sometimes textually, of the earlier manuscripts). Very justly Korsch observes that ‘contentwise’ the 1844 manuscripts ‘anticipate’ all the ‘critical-revolutionary perceptions of Capital.’ [liv] Again, in Marx’s long ‘learning process’ till 1882 an important place belongs to his ‘AntiProudhon’ (1847) where he considers himself (implicitly) as a ‘theoretician of the proletarian class’ as opposed to the ‘economists, the representatives of the bourgeois class.’ [lv] Marx wrote in 1859, ‘The decisive points of our view were first scientifically, even though polemically, indicated in my work against Proudhon’sMisère de la philosophie.’ [lvi] Years later referring to this book Marx observed, ‘it contains in germ the theories developed in Capital twenty years later.’ [lvii]

Krätke says that what Marx calls the ‘secret of critical conception’ did not lie ‘where Marxists had believed it to lie’ — not in dialectic, not in the standpoint of the working class — but in the ‘coherent continuation and correction of the defective analyses and attempts at systematisation’ of the earlier economists (p. 311). However, Marx’s own meaning of this phrase does not exactly correspond to Krätke’s explanation. In a letter to Engels (8. 1. 1868) Marx says that the ‘whole secret of the critical conception’ lies in his discovery of something which remained ‘inexplicable’ for the classics — the ‘double character of labour represented in the commodity’, following from the double character of the commodity. [lviii] On the question of Marx’s ‘critique of political economy’ as such Krätke holds — after having cited (p. 312) Marx’s 1858 letter to Lassalle where Marx speaks of his work as the ‘critique of the economic categories’ (Marx’s emphasis) — that the real scope of Marx’s project is seen in the fact that for the first time a critique was delivered which attacked not the singular phenomena and results of the capitalist mode of production but the ‘whole capitalist production relations, capitalism as a specific historical system of social production of wealth.’ (p. 313). All this is admirable. These indeed are some of the important dimensions of Marx’s ‘critique’. One does not frequently find a Marxist academic with such a lucid understanding of the significance of Marx’s ‘critique’. However, we submit this is still not the complete coverage of the significance of the ‘critique’. Marx himself came to its full significance through the so-called ‘learning process’. In his 1858 letter to Lassalle, referred to by Krätke, Marx speaks of his economic work as the ‘system of bourgeois (political) economy critically represented.’ [lix] A few years later in a letter to Kugelmann (28. 12. 1862) Marx says that his work is a ‘scientific endeavour to revolutionise science.’ [lx] But the most important thing about this ‘critique’ — its direct relation to the revolutionary ‘mission’ of the working class, Marx’s lifelong occupation — is fully revealed only in the Afterword to the second edition of Capital I, to the significance of which not many readers have paid sufficient attention. Obviously keeping in his mind — which Marx expresses in a number of places — that ‘political economy’ represented the bourgeoisie Marx wrote, concerning his own ‘critique’, ‘So far as such critique represents a class, it can represent that class whose historical mission is to revolutionise the capitalist mode of production and finally abolish classes — the proletariat.’ [lxi] It is in this spirit that Engels wrote in his review of the first edition of the book, ’Who has eyes to see, sees here the demand for a social revolution…here it is a question of the abolition of capital itself.’ [lxii] Bereft of this dimension there is a risk that Marx’s ‘critique’ could be seen simply as a ‘critique of political economy from the standpoint of political economy’ as Marx said about Proudhon’s Q’est-ce que la propriété. [lxiii]

The author opines that ‘probably’ in 1863 Marx abandoned the distinction between ‘capital in general’ and ‘many capitals’ in course of changing the (original) plan of his economic work (p. 315). Here we will not enter into the much debated question of Marx’s so called ‘change of plan’. The more pertinent question for us here is whether Marx had abandoned his important distinction between ‘capital in general’ and ‘many capitals’ after 1863 irrespective of the specific vocabulary used for these terms. That is, whether Marx had given up the crucial idea of capital’s totality versus individuality. Now, in his Grundrisse Marx considers ‘capital in general’ as equivalent to ‘capital as such’ and ‘capital of the whole society’ or the ‘total capital of a nation’. [lxiv] If we keep this equivalence relation in mind then it is not difficult to see that the opposition totality-individuality of capital far from vanishing continues to appear in Marx’s post 1863 texts. As there exist a fair number of examples, a couple of them will suffice here. Thus in Capital I Marx speaks of ‘total capital of a society’, of ‘fragmentation of social total capital into many individual capitals’ and says that ‘individual capitals form the aliquot parts of total social capital.’ [lxv] In the same book Marx brings out the revolutionary significance of the distinction. Thus speaking of the wage labourer as the ‘accessory of capital’ and being ‘bound to his owner’ he adds — in the French version of the book — that ‘only the owner is not the individual capitalist but the capitalist class.’ [lxvi] Similarly in Capital II Marx speaks of the ‘sum of individual capitals’ as equal to ‘social capital’ or, equivalently, to the ‘total capital of the capitalist class.’ [lxvii] Likewise in Capital III Marx qualifies ‘each particular capital’ as ‘a piece of total capital’ and ‘each capitalist’ as a ‘share holder in the total concern.’ [lxviii] Examples could be multiplied.

Krätke underlines that in order to use Marx’s incomplete project it is necessary to be aware of its ‘limits and shortcomings’ (p. 316), and he mentions quite a few of what he considers ‘unresolved problems’ in Marx’s work. The author should be credited for raising these issues. Given space constraint we deal with a couple of them. One of them concerns what Marx calls ‘socially necessary labour time’ as the determinant of value. Krätke rightly recalls the Marxian position that this labour time is ‘socially necessary’ only in the context of the prevailing conditions of production. Then he observes that the magnitude of value of the commodity produced could change over time. There is a possibility that the labour going into the production of machinery — a part of constant capital — could lose its value. This is a process of depreciation (of value) ‘radically different from the transfer of value analysed by Marx for the capitalist process of production’ (p. 317). Conceding that Marx was aware of the problem the author adds that Marx ‘never tried to resolve it systematically’ (p. 317). What exactly the term ‘systematically’ means here is not very clear. However, as a matter of fact Marx’s discussion of the problem of devaluation or depreciation — also called by him ‘destruction’ — of capital is much wider and deeper than what Krätke’s short sentence seems to indicate. This concerns capital in use and not in use, capital in a ‘normal’ economic situation and in a situation of crisis, capital with unchanging and with changing technology. The particular case mentioned by Krätke concerns devaluation of capital under changing technology leading to higher productivity of labour. Marx discusses this issue very clearly and stresses its importance for the turnover of capital. This devaluation Marx calls ‘moral depreciation’. Under technological change a part of the existing means of production — basically fixed capital — becomes unusable and is devalued, ‘destroyed’, before its normal circulation process is at an end or before its value reappears in the value of the commodity produced. ‘Machinery works wholly as means of labour, but posits its value to the product only in proportion in which the labour process devalues it.’ [lxix] Here the determination of value by socially necessary labour time takes on a new meaning. What determines the value of products is ‘not the labour time embodied in the products but the labour time currently (gegenwärtig) necessary.’ [lxx] In such a case of ‘devaluation of constant capital’ consequent upon new inventions the ‘labour time which it contains is no more socially necessary.’ [lxxi] ‘Its value is determined by the labour time necessary to reproduce either it or a better machine.’ [lxxii] Here is another clear statement:

We understand by the reproduction time of fixed capital the time necessary for its production, not the time which was necessary to produce it and which is contained in it, but which is or would be necessary to produce a new exemplar of the same kind. [lxxiii]

While justly faulting the current value-theoretical ideas of the Marxists where they scarcely take account of the ‘highly paradoxical’ Marxian category of ‘market value’ appearing in Marx’s analysis of competition of capitals, the author says that without the analysis of the formation of market value Marx’s distinction between ‘individual value’ and ‘social value’ of a commodity ‘as it already appears in Capital I — highly problematic and highly misleading — would remain a word play’, adding of course that Marx had the ‘correct intuition’ — for the first time in his 1864-65 manuscripts — that the formation of market value is contradictory and far from simple showing in fact that the quantities of values modified in the market and under definite conditions could generate (what Marx calls) ‘false social values’ (Krätke, p. 318). If Krätke considers the absence of analysis of the formation of ‘market value’ in the context of the discussion of ‘individual value’ and ‘social value’ in Capital I is a shortcoming we beg to differ. We submit that the problem in question here touches an important issue of Marx’s method of presentation in Capital I. In this work Marx does not take up competition of capitals which includes the formation of ‘market value’ while still investigating capital as such. Already a decade earlier Marx had underlined the general method: ‘the relation of many capitals will be explained after considering what they have in common, to be capital.’ [lxxiv] The same idea is elaborated in Capital I.

The general and necessary tendencies of capital are to be distinguished from its forms of appearance. The way in which the immanent laws of capitalist production appear in the outward movement of individual capitals, are validated as competition of capitals, … are for now left out of consideration. Scientific analysis of competition is only possible after the inner nature of capital is grasped. The apparent movement of heavenly bodies is understandable to one who knows their real movement. [lxxv]

The absence of the analysis of competition of capitals and consequently of the formation of market value while still at the stage of investigating the ‘inner nature of capital’ only shows Marx’s scientific method in Capital I. Marx would not commit the methodological error which he had detected in Ricardo who right at the beginning of his great book supposes ‘all the possible categories as given which should first be explained in order to show their conformity with the law of value.’ [lxxvi] On the other hand, in his discussion of individual and social value in Capital I [lxxvii] there are sufficient hints about what one was to find in his much more explicit and enlarged elaboration on ‘competition of capitals’ and ‘market value’ in the third volume of the book. Incidentally, even before 1864-65 Marx discusses these issues at some length in his 1861-63 manuscripts without employing the specific term ‘false social value’. [lxxviii] The same method of abstraction leads Marx to assume in Capital I equality of value and price. Thus while calculating the rate of surplus value Marx speaks of his ‘assumption that the product price=its value’ and adds in a footnote, ‘one will see in volume III that this equality even in the case of average price does not hold in this simple manner.’ [lxxix]

On Haug’s splendid, impeccably argued essay we have very little to say. Nevertheless we may be allowed to put across a couple of points. Haug writes that the ‘critique of political economy’ cannot be interpreted as a ‘system’ as in the old philosophy and that it should be considered as a ‘process of research with a process of learning’ (p. 296). Haug’s statement first of all reminds us that according to Engels Hegel was the last of the system builders, ‘Systematic philosophy after Hegel (was) impossible.’ [lxxx] Now, Marx’s ‘critique’ is undoubtedly a ‘process of research with a process of learning’. However, if we leave it at that there is a risk — as we mentioned earlier — that this will give the impression that the ‘critique of political economy’ is still consigned to the academic world, it has still not transcended ‘political economy’. As a matter of fact Marx’s ‘critique’ is intimately connected with overthrowing the existing social order in opposition to ‘political economy’ (classical or otherwise) which considers it as natural or eternal. Korsch has remarked that in Marx’s ‘critique’ it is a question of the ‘historical and theoretical mutation of the subject of economic science towards a total revolution in the bourgeois mode of production.’ Then he cites Rosa Luxemburg ‘in Marx there is theinversion of political economy into its opposite, into the completion of the socialist analysis of capitalism.’ [lxxxi]

After mentioning an anecdote due to Althusser that on an invitation from Gorki to join a discussion on ‘empiriocriticism’, Lenin declined and simply laughed (away), Haug remarks that we could have ‘escaped Stalin’s ‘Diamat’ if Lenin, instead of laughing, had ‘pursued a philosophical road which would have prevented state ideology to derive its legitimacy from him’ (p. 300). The question is whether Lenin was capable of pursuing such a road. We here simply mention Pannekoek’s and Korsch’s sharp critique of Lenin’s materialism which they considered as ‘bourgeois materialism’ — the same as Plekhanov’s — in the line of French materialism of the eighteenth century and of Feuerbach. Commenting on what he calls Pannekoek’s ‘magisterial work’ (on Lenin’s philosophy) Korsch notes Lenin’s ignorance of modern physics and Lenin’s ‘unbelievable distortion of Mach and Avenarius’, his ‘incapacity to go beyond the limits of bourgeois materialism’ and adds

Lenin attacked empiriocriticism not from the point of view of historical materialism but from that of materialism of the earlier period, bourgeois materialism, of a period of inferior scientific development. [lxxxii]

Finally, Haug has convincingly debunked those ‘purists’ who think that Marx had diluted his dialectic and linguistic rigour in the course of popularising his work. One could ask those critics: for whom, after all, Marx was writing? As his letter to Lachâtre (11. 02. 1875) makes clear, his ‘most important consideration’ was the ‘accessibility’ of his work to the working class.’ [lxxxiii] Again, in his letter to Cafiero (29. 07. 1879) Marx praised the latter for his (abridged) version of Capital I which was more accessible to the general public, compared to two other versions — English and Serb — which he criticised for their ‘pedantic attachment to the scientific form of development.’ [lxxxiv]

Losurdo starts his paper by asserting the commonplace that contrary to what Marx had thought there has been no revolution in the advanced capitalist countries, and that (by implication) it is in conditions of backward capitalism that revolution has taken place. We assume that by revolution here he means socialist revolution. He however specifies the initial act of this revolution — it is the ‘conquest of power by the communists’ (p. 347). We submit that though there have been a number of ‘conquests of power by the communists’ they have nothing to do with the proletarian conquest of power and that — it follows naturally — neither has there been any socialist revolution in the last century — at least not in Marx’s sense of workers’ self emancipation. We have to say that following the Leninist tradition — passed on to his disciples — Losurdo substitutes communist conquest of power for the ‘conquest of political power’ and thereby the ‘conquest of democracy’ ‘by the proletariat’, as theCommunist Manifesto underlines. [lxxxv] It is the political power of the working class, not a monopoly of power by the communists who are simply one of the working class parties, however advanced and forward looking the party might be compared to the other working class parties as the Manifesto underlines. As a matter of fact there has been no working class conquest of power in the twentieth century. Why should anyone assume that communist party’s power is working class power when this party is headed by a tiny group of non-proletarian radicalized intelligentsia totally detached from the site of capitalist exploitation, unchosen and unrevocable by the labouring people and accountable to no body outside the party that has on its own decided to seize power and acted on the decision — of course in the name of the working class — far and away from representing the ‘autonomous movement of the immense majority in the interest of the immense majority’, as the Manifesto stresses? The toilers had only one role to play both in the seizure of power and in its consolidation into party rule — to follow the party leaders and act on their commands. First calling itself proletarian dictatorship the regime ultimately claimed to be socialist — a ‘socialism’ which turned out to be a ‘planned’ commodity-and-wage labour society which, needless to say, was the exact opposite of a ‘union of free individuals’ as Marx had conceived socialism to be. The old state far from being destroyed was perfected into a state which in many respects turned out to be even more repressive than the old one — ‘uniting in the same hand economic exploitation and political oppression’ to use an apt phrase of the 1891 Erfurt Programme of the German Social Democratic Party (overseen by Engels). [lxxxvi]

Losurdo refers to three passages from Marx’s three works (p. 355). The first is from the German Ideology (hereafter Ideology) which he paraphrases into saying that communism is a society whence ‘every form of division of labour and even labour as such disappears.’ The second comes from the Communist Manifesto which says that once capitalism has been superseded ‘in place of the old society with its classes and class antagonisms appears an association in which the free development of each is the condition of the free development of all.’ The third is from the Critique of the Gotha Programme where one reads that after the overthrow of the bourgeois political power there follows a revolutionary transition period under the ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ (before communist society begins). Let us examine Losurdo’s reading of these texts.

As regards the passage from Ideology Losurdo, after affirming its affinity with ‘utopian novels’, observes that while it could have some use in mobilising the masses it is a ‘hindrance’ (impaccio) rather than a help in constructing socialism (pp. 355-56). Now as regards the author’s particular reading of ‘labour’ here, we submit that it is incorrect in view of Marx’s own discussion on this point in the same book. It is not every form of labour and division of labour whose abolition Marx envisages in communism. It is forced labour and forced division of labour which have prevailed so far in ‘humanity’s pre-history’ (in Marx’s 1859 pregnant expression). While discussing communism the Ideology particularly focuses on labour under capitalism. Under this system for the majority of individuals labour has ‘lost all appearance of self-activity (Selbstbetätigung)’ and has become ‘negative form of self-activity.’ [lxxxvii] In all earlier revolutions the mode of activity always ‘remained intact’ and it was a question of a ‘different distribution of labour’ whereas the ‘communist revolution is directed against the earlier mode of activity, abolishes labour.’ [lxxxviii] As regards division of labour, so long as one’s activity ‘is not voluntarily (freiwillig) but naturally (naturwüchsig) divided’, the individual’s own activity becomes ‘a power alien and opposed to her which dominates her instead of being dominated by her.’ The moment labour begins to be divided ‘each one has an exclusive circle of activity which is forced on her and from which she cannot come out.’ This consolidation of ‘our own products into a material power over us escaping our control’ is one of the ‘high moments in the historical development till now.’ [lxxxix] And this is precisely what Marx says communism abolishes. In the same work Marx stresses that in order to reach their ‘self-activity’ individuals must appropriate the totality of productive forces and that this appropriation ‘can be accomplished only by an association and by a revolution.’ And

Only at this stage the self-activity coincides with the material life in conformity with the development of individuals into total individuals. To this corresponds the transformation of labour into self activity. [xc]

We stress that this position about labour and division of labour is not unique to Ideology. First, this comes directly from his earlier great Parisian manuscripts (1844). [xci] Later in his 1861-63 manuscripts Marx speaks of the existence of division of labour beyond capital where conditions of labour belong to the ‘associated labourers who relate to them as their own products and the material elements of their own activity.’ [xcii] In his ‘Inaugural Address’ to the International (1864) Marx opposes ‘slave labour’ and ‘hired labour’ to ‘associated labour plying its toil with a willing hand, a ready mind and a joyous heart.’ In Capital Marx seems to have returned to the language of 1840s. Thus he opposes ‘fragmented individual’ of the bourgeois society to the ‘integral individual’ or ‘totally developed individual’ of the future society.’ [xciii] Finally we see in the Gothacritique the same ideas as in Ideology . At a higher phase of the communist society, says Marx, the ‘servile subordination of the individual under the division of labour will disappear’, labour would become ‘not only the means of life but also life’s first need.’ [xciv]

The two other texts of Marx cited by the author are, according to him, of ‘a historical-political kind but with a difference’ — the Manifesto dealing with the long duration of the development of humanity as a sequel to the revolution and the Gothacritique treating the concrete measures to be adopted by the proletariat on the morrow of the conquest of political power (p. 355). Turning to the Manifesto (Losurdo does not discuss the Gothacritique any further) Losurdo utters the warning that in the name of the Manifesto’s stress on the ‘free development of the individual’ one must not condemn the ‘political power arising from the revolution’ facing the manœuvres of imperialism, ‘condemn the real movement in the name of one’s phantasies and deprive Marxism of every real emancipatory task.’ Specifically mentioning to-day’s China he insists that the free development of the individual ‘passes through the strengthening of the people’s power in the socialist countries’ (pp. 356, 357). Like the paper itself this reasoning is necessarily based on the author’s tall supposition (amounting to axiom requiring no demonstration) that the ‘political power’ in question is really ‘people’s power’ ruling the ‘socialist’ countries. We have no reason to accept this affirmation of the eminent philosopher. As regards the ‘Marxism’ professed by the rulers of these ‘socialist’ regimes ever since 1917 and accepted at face value by their apologists, it has nothing to do with Marx’s emancipatory perspective of socialism and it has only served these rulers as an ideological cover to legitimize their regimes in the name of Marx thereby infinitely degrading Marx. It is worth recalling that with all her sympathies for the new Bolshevik regime Rosa Luxemburg did not hesitate to take its leaders to task pretty severely on the score of (the absence of ) individual liberty [xcv]. Similar was the case with Victor Serge’s ‘internal critique’ of the new Bolshevik regime. [xcvi]

In Bidet’s otherwise highly thought provoking paper we read a couple of statements which are contestable. According to him, in spite of Marx’s scientific greatness in the elaboration of a new object, ‘political-economic’, his ‘weakness’ lies in the ‘unilateral or, rather, unipolar character’ of the construction. This relates to a ‘specific type of historicism’. In fact, continues Bidet, in spite of Marx’s declared ‘rejection of the historical-logical approach’, there emerges a ‘certain contamination between logical exposition and historical narration’ (p. 281, emphasis author’s). In Marx’s ‘social theory’, says Bidet, we are led ‘from the commodity form — the supposed general form of capital — to the organized form — supposed general form of socialism’ (p. 281, emphasis author’s). And he adds that ‘Marx could not recognize that market and organization constitute two structural poles of the modern form of society’ whereas the ‘exposition requires bipolarity from the beginning’ (p. 282, emphasis author’s). Let us discuss Bidet’s position. While holding correctly that Capital’s starting point is commodity production as the most general form of production under capitalism, Bidet contests what he considers as the ‘unipolarity’ of the point of departure inasmuch as both the ‘form organization’ and the ‘form market’ (should) constitute the starting point.’ It is strange’, Bidet adds, that ‘Marx only discovers’ the form organization in section IV (of Capital I) under the name ‘Co-operation’ (p. 285). Let us say a few words on Bidet’s critique. As regards Marx’s alleged non recognition of bipolarity under capital, we see the opposite in Marx’s texts. Thus

The division of labour in manufacture supposes unconditional authority of the capitalist over individuals who are simply members of an integral mechanism belonging to the capitalist; the division of labour in society puts independent producers opposed to one another who recognize no other authority but that of competition…Anarchy in the social division of labour and despotism in the division of labour in manufacture reciprocally condition each other. [xcvii]

Again, a variation on the same theme:

While on the basis of the capitalist mode of production the mass of immediate producers is confronted by the social character of their production in the form of strictest regulating authority and fully organized hierarchy and social mechanism of the labour process, there reigns among governors, the capitalists themselves, who confront one another only as possessors of commodities, the fullest anarchy. [xcviii]

As regards the ‘strangeness’ of Marx’s ‘discovery’ of ‘form organization’ only at a late stage in Capital I, we submit that Marx’s ‘discovery’ here is no more ‘strange’ than his ‘discovery’ of wage labour much later than commodity in Capital. Thus though he explicitly states right at the start of the book that commodity is the elementary form of capitalist wealth, just as explicitly does he emphasize that the ‘category of wage as yet does not exist at all at this stage of our presentation.’ [xcix] It is here a question of Marx’s method of presentation. As we mentioned earlier, Marx would not follow the wrong method of Ricardo who while supposing commodities — ‘and nothing else should be supposed when value as such is considered’ — also presented all the central categories of capital as simply given.[c] Hence Marx had first to develop all the mediations that the commodity has to go through before coming to the first form of capitalist organization in the chapter on ‘co-operation’ in Capital. As regards Marx’s so-called ‘historicism’, we do not want to venture into an extended exploration of this much debated subject. [ci] We simply underline here that it would seem strange to conceive of the ‘Materialist Conception of History’ — inexactly called ‘historical materialism’ –without history. [cii] This would run the risk of reducing materialism to an idealist play of mere ‘dialectic of the concepts’ without the real historical process being involved. Did not Marx say that the economic categories are ‘historical’ and not ‘eternal’ or ‘natural’ as they are with the economists. As Marx underlines, ‘economic categories carry their historical stamp.’ [ciii] We simply note that as regards ‘historicism’, far from being affected by ‘contamination’ — as if independently of Marx’s knowledge and will — between logical and historical, Marx, in a number of places, on the contrary, explicitly asserts the existence of both the processes. In the chapter on ‘co-operation’ in Capital I Marx writes that a multitude of workers working simultaneously within the same space or field of activity on the same kind of commodity under the command of the same capitalist ‘forms historically and conceptually the starting point of capitalist production.’ [civ] Here ‘conceptually’ of course means the same thing as ‘logically’. In an oft-quoted passage Marx writes: ‘It is altogether appropriate (sachgemäß) to consider the value of commodities not only theoretically but also historically as the prius to the prices of production’. [cv] Again, speaking of the circular movement of commodity both as the presupposition of the origin of capital and the latter’s product Marx observes: ‘This circular progression of our exposition corresponds as well to capital’s historical development.’ [cvi] Similarly in a letter to Engels (02. 04. 1858) Marx writes: ‘The passage from ground rent to capital is at the same time historical…In the same way the passage from ground rent to wage labour is not only dialectical but also historical.’ [cvii] And as a final example, ‘We started from circulation’, observes Marx, ‘to arrive at the capitalist production. This is also the historical passage (Gang).’ [cviii] One could also legitimately ask the question, what else is chapter 2 of Capital I if not a historical exposition of the passage from barter to money?

Conclusion

Let us conclude. The organizers of this valuable collection and particularly Marcello Musto, its editor, should be praised for bringing together and making available to the public (alas! not yet in English) [cix] the multidisciplinary contributions by some of the most distinguished Marx scholars of the day. Having said this, however, we have to register a couple of points in this connection. Engels observed in his well-known speech at Marx’s funeral that Marx was a ‘revolutionary before everything’ with a mission to ‘contribute to workers’ emancipation.’ In the present collection while a lot of emphasis is quite justifiably put on Marx as a great classic, hardly anybody — with almost the sole honourable exception of Musto — has touched on the uniqueness of Marx among the classics precisely on this point. Marx by no means was just another great classic. His theoretical work — apparently even as esoteric as Capital — is integrally connected with this revolutionary-emancipatory side. Indeed, Marx’s work is either revolutionary-emancipatory or it is nothing. Another regrettable absentee from this collection is any mention of the noble and heroic effort of Maximilien Rubel — a persona non grata with the state Marxists, East and West — to publish a de-ideologised integral edition of Marx and Engels with the incompleteness of Marx’s work as the point of departure — an effort undertaken long before the appearance of the new MEGA, starting with an article in France’s Revue Socialiste in 1952 with the title ‘The West owes to Marx and Engels a monumental edition of their works.’ Rubel’s second attempt was his project of publishing a Jubilee Edition (1883-1983) of Marx and Engels on the occasion of the centenary of Marx’s death. In his proposal Rubel said very clearly, ‘Truly Marx deserves better than to be edited by the Marxists for the Marxists’, and spoke against the ‘ideological appropriation of Marx’s thought by the institutions under the tutelage of political parties.’

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Journal Articles

Review: Karl Marx – Friedrich Engels Marx-Engels Gesamtausgabe (MEGA²), IV Abteilung, Band 12

Marx and Engels are still without an unabridged and scientific edition of their works, despite the widespread dissemination of their writings. The complete works, the Marx Engels Gesamtausgabe (MEGA), were not published until the 1920s, at the initiative of David Borisovič Ryazanov, director of the Marx-Engels Institute in Moscow. The Stalinist purges in the Soviet Union, which also affected the scholars working on the project, and the rise of Nazism in Germany, however, put an early end to publication, interrupted in 1935, by which time only 12 of the 42 volumes originally planned, had been printed.

The project of a ‘second’ MEGA was reborn during the 1960s. Nevertheless, these publications, which began in 1975, were also interrupted, this time following the events of 1989. In 1990, with the goal of continuing this edition, the Internationaal Instituut voor Sociale Geschiedenis of Amsterdam and the Karl Marx Haus in Trier formed the Internationale Marx-Engels-Stiftung (IMES). After a difficult phase of reorganization, in the course of which new editorial principles were approved and the publishing house Akademie Verlag took the place of Dietz Verlag, the publication of the so-called MEGA² commenced in 1998.

The complete project, in which scholars of various disciplinary competences from numerous countries participate (from USA to Japan), is articulated in four sections: the first includes all the works, articles, and drafts excluding Capital; the second includes Capital and its preliminary studies starting from 1857; the third is dedicated to the correspondence; while the fourth includes excerpts, annotations, and marginalia. Of the 114 planned volumes, 53 have already been published (13 since recommencement in 1998), each of which consists of two books: the text plus the critical apparatus, which contains the indices and many additional notes.

Some of the most interesting novelties of the MEGA² are noticeable in the fourth section, Exzerpte, Notizen, Marginalien. This contains Marx’s numerous summaries and study notes, which constitute a significant testimony to his mammoth work. From his university years, he adopted the life-long habit of compiling notebooks of extracts from the books he read, often breaking them up with the reflections which they prompted him to make. The Nachlaß of Marx contains approximately 200 notebooks of summaries. These are essential for the knowledge and comprehension of the genesis of his theory and of the parts of it that he didn’t have the chance to develop as he wished. The conserved extracts, which cover the long span of time from 1838 until 1882, are written in eight languages – German, Ancient Greek, Latin, French, English, Italian, Spanish and Russian – and cover the widest range of disciplines.

They were taken from texts of philosophy, art, religion, politics, law, literature, history, political economy, international relations, technology, mathematics, physiology, geology, mineralogy, agronomy, ethnology, chemistry, and physics, as well as articles from newspapers and journals, parliamentary reports, statistics, reports, and publications of government offices – as amongst these are the famous ‘Blue Books’, in particular the Reports of the inspectors of factories, which contained investigations of great importance for his studies. This immense mine of knowledge, largely still unpublished, was the building site of Marx’s critical theory. The fourth section of MEGA², planned for 32 volumes, provide access to it for the first time.

The last volume published is exemplary of this. It contains nine extensive notebooks of extracts (totalling almost 1000 printed pages), compiled by Marx essentially during 1854. These notes were written in the same period in which he published two important series of articles in the New-York Tribune. The first, entitled Lord Palmerston, was dedicated to a critique of the policies of the British Prime Minister of the time. The second, however, known as Revolutionary Spain, was a report of the Spanish uprisings, considered by Marx to be the most important revolutionary rising in Europe following the revolutions of 1848-49, which led to the so-called ‘Two-year progressionist period’ (1854-56).

The four notebooks used for Lord Palmerston contain annotations on the history of diplomacy taken, principally, from texts by the historians Famin and Francis, of the lawyer and German diplomat von Martens, by the Tory politician Urquhart, as well as from ‘Correspondence relative to the affairs of the Levant’ and ‘Hansard’s parliamentary debates’. The other five, taken from Chateaubriand, from the Spanish writer de Jovellanos, from the Spanish general San Miguel, from his fellow countryman de Marliani and many other authors are, instead, exclusively dedicated to Spain and demonstrate the intensity with which Marx examined its social and political history and culture. Furthermore, the notes from Essai sur l’histoire de la formation et des progrès du Tiers État of Augustin Thierry arouse particular interest. All these notes are of very important because they reveal the sources Marx drew upon and allow us to understand the way in which he utilized these readings for the writing of his articles. The volume finally contains a series of extracts on military history by Engels.

To be able to know some of his readings constitutes a precious resource for the reconstruction of his research. It also helps to refute the false hagiographical Marxist-Leninist interpretation that has often represented his thought as the fruit of a bolt from the blue and not, as it was in reality, as an elaboration full of theoretical elements derived from predecessors and contemporaries.

After 1989, Marx was too hastily put aside. Contrary to those who predicted his definitive fall into oblivion, in the last few years Marx has returned to the attention of international scholars for his continuing ability to explain capitalist society. Freed from the oppressing shackles of the Soviet Union, his work can now be re-read and re-interpreted through the invaluable unpublished material being printed in MEGA2.

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Reviews

Fred Moseley, Review of Radical Political Economics

This book is an important addition to the scholarship on Marx’s Grundrisse, on the 150th anniversary of its writing. The book consists of three parts: critical interpretations, Marx’s life at the time of the Grundrisse (including his writings on the economic crisis of 1857-58), and the dissemination and reception of the Grundrisse around the world.

Part I consists of eight chapters by a distinguished group of Marxian scholars. Chapter 1 is by the editor Marcello Musto (“History, production, and method in the 1857 ‘Introduction’”) and argues that the “Introduction” to the Grundrisse is probably the most important text on that Marx ever wrote on his logical method (and Musto tells us that Marx wrote it in only a week). Musto discusses each of the four parts of the Introduction, and draws the following important conclusions about Marx’s method: First, the categories of a theory of capitalism should be in terms of its historically specific aspects (commodities, money, capital, surplus-value, etc.) rather than general characteristics that capitalism shares with all other modes of production (use-values, useful labor, means of production, etc.). Second, the different moments of production, distribution, exchange, and consumption should be considered as an interrelated totality, in which production is the dominant element over the other parts of the whole. Third, the order of the categories should be determined by their function within capitalist society, not by their historical order of existence (most importantly, capital should come before landed property). Musto also argues that the method discussed in Part 3 of starting from the most abstract and universal determinations and “rising from the abstract to the concrete” was later rejected by Marx when he chose to start his theory instead with the commodity, a concrete and historically determined reality.

Chapter 2 by Joachim Bischoff and Christoph Lieber (“The concept of value in modern economy: on the relationship between money and capital in the Grundrisse”) also emphasizes the historical specificity of Marx’s concepts: “Marx’s fundamental thesis is that the central categories grounding an understanding of capital … can be elaborated only on the basis of a determinate level of development of capitalist society.” (37) Bischoff and Lieber focus on Marx’s discovery while writing the Grundrisse that the starting point of his theory of capitalism. Marx began the Grundrisse with an analysis of money, but in the course of writing the “Chapter on Money” and the rest of the Grundrisse, he realized that money is not the appropriate starting point because money is not the “elementary form of bourgeois wealth”. Money is itself derivative of commodities. Therefore, the starting point of Marx’s theory is the commodity, the “cell form of bourgeois wealth”. From this starting point, it is possible to derive the category of money and from money the concept of capital. Similarly, Marx first analyzed simple circulation in the Grundrisse in terms of individual commodity owners, but then he realized that simple circulation should be analyzed as the surface appearance of capitalism. Marx did not articulate this new starting point in the chapter on money, but he did clearly articulate it at the very end of the Grundrisse in a short fragment entitled “The Commodity”.

Chapter 3 by Terrell Carver (“Marx’s conception of alienation in the Grundrisse) addresses the question of whether Marx changed his views on alienation – from an initial emphasis in his early works to much less emphasis and perhaps rejection in his later works (as some have argued). Carver puts this argument to the test with respect to the Grundrisse, and concludes that it provides no evidence that Marx changed his views on alienation (understood to mean that human powers are projected onto objects and these objects come to dominate people). Carver argues that the same theme is present in the Grundrisse, although not in the same language. The change of language is due to the fact that the Grundrisse is a different genre of work from the early writings (writing for publication, rather than exploratory notebooks) and a different audience (political economists, rather than Young Hegelians). Carver argues that the Grundrisse also adds an important dynamic element to the concept of alienation – capitalism’s tendency toward technological change and the growth of objectified labor relative to living labor, and the increasing domination of the latter by the former.

Chapter 4 by Enrique Dussel (“The discovery of the category of surplus-value”) is perhaps my favorite chapter in the book, because I think the discovery of the theory of surplus-value (and hence the explanation of exploitation in capitalism) is the most important achievement of the Grundrisse. Dussel argues that Marx had an intuitive grasp of the explanation of surplus-value in his early manuscripts, but he worked it out for the first time in rigorous detail in the Grundrisse, beginning early in the “Chapter on Capital” (more precisely, Dussel locates Marx’s “moment of clarity” beginning around p. 321, Penguin edition). Marx also developed and elaborated for the first time the following important concepts related to his theory of surplus-value: the division of the working day into necessary labor and surplus labor; the distinction between absolute surplus-value and relative surplus-value, and the decisive importance of the latter for capitalism; the distinction between constant capital and variable capital (the latter being the source of surplus-value); and the distinction between preexisting value transferred from the means of production and new value produced by living labor. These concepts are of course well known today, but it is exciting to review Marx’s discovery of these all-important concepts while writing the Grundrisse.

Chapter 5 by Ellen Meiksins Wood (“Historical materialism in ‘Forms which Precede Capitalist Production’”) revisits this important section in the Grundrisse (the first excerpt from the Grundrisse to be published in English in 1964, with an introduction by Eric Hobsbaum, who also wrote the Forward to this volume). Wood argues that the historical sequence of different modes of production which Marx suggested in 1857 has been largely discredited by subsequent research, but that does not mean this historical materialism is wrong. Rather, historical materialism does not need to provide such a theory of historical sequence. The strength of historical materialism lies elsewhere – in its emphasis that the development of each mode of production is driven by its own historically specific property relations and its own internal principles, not by transhistorical laws (such as technological determinism). Wood emphasizes that historical materialism focuses not only on class divisions, but also on the progressive separation of labor from the conditions of labor.

Chapter 6 by John Bellamy Foster (“Marx’s Grundrisse and the ecological contradictions of capitalism”) argues that recent research has shown that an ecological critique of capitalism was embedded in all of Marx’s works from the early works to his latest writings. This ecological theme is evidenced by his materialist conception of nature and history, his theory of alienation (including the alienation of nature), his understanding of labor and the production process as the metabolic relation between humanity and nature, and his co-evolutionary approach to society-nature relations. Foster argues that in the Grundrisse this ecological dimension of Marx’s work can be seen in the following themes: the attempt to construct a materialist critique encompassing both production in general and its specifically capitalism form, the articulation of a theory of human needs, the analysis of pre-capitalist economic formations, the analysis of external barriers to capital, the critique of Malthus’s theory of population.

Chapter 7 by Iring Fetscher (“Emancipated individuals in an emancipated society: Marx’s sketch of post-capitalist society in the Grundrisse”) focuses on those passages in the Grundrisse in which Marx discusses post-capitalist society, which are some of Marx’s most extensive writings on this subject, although still only sketches. Fetscher emphasizes that Marx’s vision of socialism included the “emancipation from compulsory labor”, which would make free time available to all for their full development as human beings, made possible by the tremendous development of the productivity of labor in capitalism. However, Marx does not discuss at all in the Grundrisse how this new society could be brought about and who the revolutionary subjects would be. Fetscher suggests that is our task to further develop this exciting vision of emancipated labor in a post-capitalist society and to attempt to make this vision an attractive motivation for revolution for a majority of the population in capitalist society.

Chapter 8 by Moishe Postone (“Rethinking Capital in light of the Grundrisse”) examines in detail an 3 page section in the Grundrisse entitled “Contradiction between the foundation of bourgeois production (value as measure) and its development” (pp. 704-06). Postone argues that this important section provides strong evidence that the categories of Marx’s theory are intended to be historically specific, not general transhistorical categories. For example, the commodity with which Marx began his theory is specifically a commodity in capitalist society, not a general product; and the concept of value refers only to capitalist society, and not to all societies (including not to a post-capitalist society). Postone also argues that the dynamics of capitalist development (technological change and relative surplus-value, runaway growth, etc.) are also historically specific and are not transhistorical laws that apply to all societies. Postone concludes: “… the Grundrisse allows us to see that Marx’s critique in Capital extends far beyond the traditional critique of bourgeois relations of distribution (the market and private property). It not only entails a critique of exploitation and the unequal distribution of wealth and power, although it of course includes such a critique. Rather, it grasps modern industrial society itself as capitalist, and critically analyzes capitalism primarily in terms of abstract structures of domination, the increasing fragmentation of individual labor and individual existence, and a blind runaway developmental logic. This approach reconceptualizes a post-capitalist society in terms of “the overcoming of the proletariat … that is, in terms of a transformation of the general structure of labour and time.” (p. 135) Postone’s vision of a post-capitalist society is similar to Fetcher’s in the previous chapter.

All these chapters are interesting and very high quality, as one would expect from this distinguished group of authors. These chapters are not an easy read, but then neither is the Grundrisse, and in both cases the effort is worth it. The major shortcoming in my view is that there is very little engagement with the existing literature on the Grundrisse, not even with Rosdolsky (the “great pioneer explicator” of the Grundrisse, as Hobsbaum describes him in his Foreward) and his critics. Part III (discussed below) clearly shows the influence of Rosdolsky, but this is not reflected in the interpretative Part I (with the exception of Carver, who has a long and appreciative paragraph on Rosdolsky). I also wish there had been more discussion of how the Grundrisse sheds light on the logical structure of the three volumes of Capital, beyond the emphasis on historical specificity and the commodity as starting point. In particular, what role does the distinction between capital in general and competition, which is emphasized in the Grundrisse, play in Capital?

Part II (“Marx at the time of the Grundrisse”) consists of three chapters, one by Musto on Marx’s life circumstances while writing the Grundrisse, and two chapters by Michael Krätke on Marx’s writings as a journalist and his analysis of the economic crisis of 1857-58. Musto’s chapter describes Marx’s very precarious economic circumstances, heavily dependent on Engels, constantly on the verge of running out of money, and always trying to stay one step ahead of the creditors. He was also afflicted by a variety of physical ailments (liver problem, eye infection, toothaches) and was at times incapacitated and unable to work for weeks at a time (during which he studied the Dutch language to occupy himself!). In July 1857, a baby died in birth, which was heartbreaking (two years after their 8 year old son Edgar had died). I myself find it almost impossible to imagine how such a monumental work such as the Grundrisse (very sophisticated and completely original) could be written in such extremely difficult personal circumstances (given my own comfortable circumstances and limited accomplishments). Re-reading the Grundrisse from this perspective boggles the mind.

The two chapters by Krätke on the economic crisis of 1857-58 were especially interesting to me, both because of my interest in crisis theory and the current crisis and because this material was entirely new to me. Chapter 10 (“The first world economic crisis: Marx as an economic journalist”) discusses Marx’s newspaper articles on the crisis as a journalist for the New York Tribune. Marx had worked for the Tribune since 1851, writing about two articles a week, many of which were published as leading articles. The Tribune was growing rapidly and had become the largest English speaking newspaper in the world, so Marx was actually one of the leading and most widely read economic journalists of his time (a surprise to me). Because of the crisis, Marx work load was cut back to one article a week. Marx wrote more than a dozen articles on the crisis, and ten of them were published (eight as leading articles) between November 1857 and March 1858 (in addition to rereading Hegel on the side!). The first and last articles are on the crisis in France, five deal with Britain, and the rest with elsewhere in Europe. (These articles are published in the new (50-volume) Marx-Engels Collected Works, Volume 15.) In these articles, Marx discussed the monetary crisis and the suspension of the Bank Act of 1844 (which Marx predicted shortly before it happened in November 1857), the industrial crisis and spreading bankruptcies, and especially the unprecedented global nature of this crisis [!]. In the aftermath of the crisis, Marx wrote two longer articles, trying to spell out its lessons for a theory of capitalism, in which he emphasized that this crisis, like all other capitalist crises, was not an “accident”, but was instead due to the inherent “laws of crisis” of capitalist economies.

During these months while working on the Grundrisse, Marx was also taking extensive notes on the development of the crisis in different countries. Krätke’s second chapter is about these notebooks. He describes them as “voluminous notebooks, with copious material” on the crisis, “full-scale empirical research on the ongoing crisis”. One notebook was on England, one on Germany, and the other on France. Krätke describes the contents of each of these notebooks in detail; he reveals that Marx also planned (along with Engels) to write a pamphlet on the crisis, using these materials from the notebooks, but that never happened (too bad!). In spite of all this parallel work on the crisis, the crisis is explicitly mentioned only twice in the Grundrisse. I guess this is not surprising, since the Grundrisse is the very beginning of Marx’s original “six book plan” and “world market and crisis” was projected to be the sixth and final book. But the crisis certainly provided the inspiration to write the Grundrisse. Krätke puts it bluntly: “Without the world crisis of 1857-58, Marx probably would not have written the Grundrisse.”

Part III presents an exhaustive description of all the editions of the Grundrisse and the secondary literature on the Grundrisse, all over the world (with a chapter for each country, sometimes in small common language groups). The Grundrisse was published for the first time in German in 1939 and again in 1953. In this Cold War period, translations into other languages were slow to appear. The first to appear were in the East: in Japan (1958-65) and in China (1962-78). A Russian edition was published in 1968-69. French, Italian, and Spanish translations were published in the late 1960s. Nicolaus’ English translation finally appeared in 1973. There were more translations into Eastern European languages in the 1970s, and more recently into Farsi, Greek, Turkish, Korean, and Portuguese. All in all, 22 languages. Each chapter is written by a native of the country, which must have required a tremendous about of editorial work.

There was considerable interest in the Grundrisse in the 1970s, but that interest has waned considerably since then (as it has for Marxian theory in general). However, Hobsbaum suggests in his Foreward to this volume that the current economic crisis appears to demonstrate the perspicacity of Marx’s theory, and thus it is a good time to return to a study of the Grundrisse (and Marx’s other works), and that this volume makes a valuable contribution toward that effort. I concur. This book should be of interest to all Marxian scholars.

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Reviews

Wang Xiaosheng, Studies in Marxism

Although the book is not a monograph, it contains a number of inspiring and informative essays about the life of Marx at the time of his writing the Grundrisse, about the social background of the book, and extensive information on the dissemination and reception of the Grundrisse throughout the world.

The papers collected in the book give readers clear and original interpretations of Marx‘s Grundrisse from different perspectives. The information about Marx‘s life at the time he was writing the Grundrisse is really helpful for understanding and further researching the book.

The topics of the essays collected in the book are diverse, but they can be divided into four groups. Group one: History, production and method in the 1857 ―Introduction (by Marcello Musto). This essay deals specifically with Marx‘s 1857 Introduction. It tries to clarify the method that Marx uses in the Grundrisse. Group two: The concept of value in modern economics: on the relationship between money and capital in the Grundrisse‘ (Joachim Bischoff and Christoph Lieber), The discovery of the category of surplus value (Enrique Dussel). This group deals with Marx‘s theory of value, especially surplus value. Group three, Marx‘s conception of alienation in the Grundrisse (by Terrell Carver), Rethinking Capital in the light of the Grundrisse (Moishe Postone). These two essays put the Grundrisse in the context of Marx‘s other works to clarify the differences and similarities. Group four, Historical materialism in “Forms which Precede Capitalist Production”‘ (Ellen Meiksins Wood), Marx‘s Grundrisse and the ecological contradictions of capitalism‘ (John Bellamy Foster) and Emancipated individuals in an emancipated society: Marx’s sketch of post-capitalist society in the Grundrisse (Iring Fetscher). These papers are mainly concerned with Marx‘s interpretation of the historical process and some of its problems.

The chief merit of the book for me is that nearly every essay in the book concerns one of the fiercely discussed questions in the understanding of Marx. The essays in this book try to answer these questions through the reading and interpretation of the Grundrisse. To my mind, although there are some details that need to be further discussed, the arguments are persuasive and well grounded. Here I would like to list some of these and raise some questions for further discussion.

The essays of Carver and Postone put the Grundrisse in the larger context of Marx‘s other texts in the hope of clarifying some of the thorny questions in understanding Marx‘s thought. And, interestingly they have the same orientation: Carver stresses that Marx never abandoned the idea of alienation and never ceased to use it as a method to analyse the crises of the capitalist system, although he uses the word alienation less and less. While Postone underlines that in understanding the fundamental contradiction of capitalism, Marx, both in the Grundrisse and in Capital, emphasizes the difference between value and real wealth. They both stress that we should understand Marx‘s Capital from the perspective of the Grundrisse. Of course their topics are quite different. It is a fact that in early Marx, alienation is one of the core concepts to analyse the conflicts that exist in capitalist society, but later he used this concept less and less.

What is the reason for Marx’s change? There are lots of explanations, such as that later Marx abandoned philosophical analysis and turned to economic analysis, since alienation is a Hegelian philosophical concept and not suitable for economic analyses. Carver claims that although later Marx especially in Capital seldom used the concept of alienation, he still insisted on the basic idea of alienation. He stresses that Marx‘s texts, such as the 1844 Manuscripts, the Grundrisse and Capital, are all more or less philosophical or economic, no one is more or less economic.

My question is: why does Marx use the concept of alienation less and less? Carver‘s answer is: the subtle alteration in concepts is due to the change of intellectual milieu, the structure and most particularly Marx‘s knowledge of relevant material in political economy and in historical and contemporary sources. I think his argument is sound and persuasive, but there are still things that need clarifying. For example, in 1844, Marx studied economics and Hegel‘s philosophy separately. He used the concept of alienation in economic analysis, but later he seldom mentioned Hegel and only used his concept in economic analysis. Does that means that later Marx‘s text is more economic and less philosophical, or even that it has no direct philosophical meaning?

Postone‘s argument is directly critical of traditional Marxism. For traditional Marxism, the basic conflict in capitalism is the contradiction between private ownership and the vast social production through the market. In his reading of the Grundrisse, Postone finds that Marx stressed that the basic conflict in capitalism is between value and real wealth. This idea gets its foundation in Marx’ Grundrisse, and Postone would like to rethink Capital in the light of the Grundrisse. Evidently, Postone has a methodological problem: why should we rethink Capital in the light of the Grundrisse, and not vice versa, since Capital volume 1 was constructed from the Grundrisse? This means that Marx thought that the ideas in Capital are a more accurate presentation of his views. This does not mean that the Grundrisse is a pile of useless paper, but it does require that the author should clearly give us the reason why this way of reading Marx is more suitable. As a reader I cannot find the answer in the book.

Musto’s clear interpretation is inspiring, and it clearly presents the four main points in Marx‘s Introduction‘ of 1857. Most of its analysis is well grounded and gives us a new perspective for understanding Marx. But it seems to me there is one problem concerning Marx‘s proposition that needs special attention, Human anatomy contains a key to the anatomy of the ape (Musto, p. 20). Musto emphasizes that it was bourgeois society that provided the clues to understanding the economies of previous historical epochs. Ellen Wood has interpreted it differently (p. 90). She stresses that the proposition shows that Marx‘s objective is to emphasize the specificity of capitalism. She says that it is because of the specificity of capitalism that it can shed light on the earlier forms it replaced. Musto admits that different social forms have different economic structures, but we could alter the clues a bit and use them to analyse pre-capitalism. It seems to me that he implies that there is still something in common between these social forms. But, Ellen Wood emphasizes the difference more. So what is Marx‘s emphasis, difference or identity?

Group three deals with historical development before and after capitalism. Ellen Wood studied Forms Which Precede Capitalist Production‘ in the Grundrisse. In her analysis, she claims that For Karl Marx each system of social property relations is driven by its own internal principles and not by some impersonal transhistorical law of technological improvement or commercial expansion (p. 88). According to traditional Marxism, social relations are the core of the production relation, and the production relation is determined by the forces of production. In replacing this argument, Ellen Wood stresses that as the core relation of production, the social property relation has its own internal character, this relation is not determined by a transhistorical law of productive forces. In appearance, it seems that Ellen Wood avoids the flaw of traditional Marxism: human history is determined by the productive forces, and the productive forces have their own law, so history has its own law. But I think, what Ellen Wood does is only to replace the productive forces with social property relations, and the problem of whether Marxism is a kind of determinism is still unsolved.

Although in the historical development, there are lots of specific social property relations just as technological forms of relations between man and nature, perhaps some will say that there is improvement in these specific social property relations. Maybe this is not the fault of Ellen Wood but Marx. Because of the influence of Enlightenment philosophers, Marx did not get rid of this fault. I would like to ask whether in primitive society, there is a clear concept of property, whether they treated land as a kind of property. If there is no clear concept of property as we have in capitalist society, it seems to me that it is not reasonable to use the concept of property to analyse primitive society. It is quite interesting that Fetscher finds that Marx‘s post-capitalist society could build on the development of labour: from the automated factory to the overcoming of compulsory labour. Of course this is what Marx has pointed out. The problem is that for Marx the transformation from capitalist to post- capitalist society is driven by two factors: productive forces and social property relations.

Which factor is the most important? Fetscher does not answer this question, but it seems to me that he pays more attention to the productive forces. If there is no improvement of the productive forces, Marx’s post-capitalist society is unimaginable. But how about property relations? Is it necessary to change the property relation to have a post- capitalist society? It seems to me that Ellen Wood would find it difficult to answer this question as well.

Finally, I must say that the three articles about the background of Marx’s life when he wrote the Grundrisse are really helpful, and each has its own perspective. They help to understand the whole situation when Marx wrote his Grundrisse. The Foreword by Eric Hobsbawm gives us a brief overview of the status of the Grundrisse, its reception and its significance for us. Although Hobsbawm‘s preface is quite short, it also tells us the historical background of the publication and reception of the Grundrisse. This also reminds us that in the financial crisis, it is necessary for us to reread the Grundrisse.

Categories
Reviews

Joel Wainwright, Human Geography

The sesquicentennial of Marx’s Grundrisse  (1973 [1857]) brought renewed attention to this extraordinary and confounding text, comprised of the notebooks in which Marx took his first steps toward Capital (1867).

In his Foreword to this collection, Eric Hobsbawm describes the Grundrisse as “an enormously difficult text in every respect” (p. xxiii), and to make matters more complex, Marx’s notebooks have been subject to a peculiar publication history.

They were only discovered in 1923, and the first complete edition in any language (the original German) was stifled until 1953 by Stalinist control of Marx’s oeuvre. Thus the secondary literature on the Grundrisse developed late and remains considerably weaker than that concerning the Communist Manifesto or Capital.1 To be sure, there are a few excellent studies of the Grundrisse , yet the best of them – works like Rosdolsky’s The Making of Marx’s Capital (1968); Negri’s lectures on the notebooks, published asMarx beyond Marx (1979); Dussel’s ‘comentario’ (1985); and Uchida’s painstaking examination of the Grundrisse alongside Hegel’s Logic (1988) – are either unavailable in English or no less difficult than Marx’s own notes. I suspect that many Anglophone geographers who have picked up the Grundrisse (in one of the two English versions prepared by different translators) have met with considerable frustration and gone looking for help.

We are therefore fortunate for this terrific collection, edited by Marcello Musto, and its publication as an affordable paperback in Routledge’s “frontiers in political economy” series. This is not a mixed-bag, edited collection organized around a mushy theme by second-rate editors. It is an outstanding work, comprised of 32 chapters, written by 31 authoritative contributors; and since some of the chapters drew upon other specialists (as I explain below), in total over 200 people were involved in its creation. The resulting product has no ‘deadwood’ and provides the best introductory guide to the Grundrisse now available in English.4, Number 3, 2011

The book is organized in three sections. Part I offers eight excellent, interpretive essays on different concepts in the Grundrisse: Musto on its history and method; Bischoff and Lieber on value theory; Carver on alienation; Dussel on surplus value; Wood on the ‘forms which precede capitalist production’; Foster on ecological contradiction; Fetscher on emancipation; and Postone on the text’s relationship to Capital. Those who know the literature on Marx will immediately recognize that these are experts, well matched to the core themes that they examine. I find little to critique in them. Arguably this section is missing a stand-alone chapter on Marx’s lengthy discussion of money in the Grundrisse, but this is dealt with in a chapter in Part II (the shortest of the three) which examines Marx at the time of writing the Grundrisse. Some of the book’s essays (Dussel’s and Musto’s) have been previously published in other languages. Also, readers may be put off by the fact that some authors – Foster and Postone in particular – refer so frequently to their books that these chapters essentially summarize arguments made elsewhere. But their chapters are still useful since they allow students of Marx to gain insights about the Grundrisse from specialists without having to slog through all the research monographs.

Part III offers a chronological, country- by-country description of the translation and publication of the Grundrisse. This is fascinating material for Marxist geographers since it describes the uneven, spatio-temporal diffusion of one text by Marx. In all, the Grundrisse has been translated in its entirely into 22 languages (in 32 different versions), and printed in ~500,000 copies—numbers that, as Musto wryly notes, would have “greatly surprised the man who write it only to summarize, with the greatest of haste, the economic studies he had undertaken up to that point” (p 183).

Unexpected twists appear from the map of the dissemination of the Grundrisse. For instance (Geographers might wonder how the material
for this section was compiled. In a remarkable display of scholarly perseverance, Musto exchanged ~1,500 emails with scholars and activists all around the world. In addition to its other qualities, section III demonstrates the value and possibilities of large-scale collaborative philological research) the first language into which it was translated and published in full was Japanese. Fifty-seven thousand copies were printed in Japan in 1958-65, a decade before the text was first available in English (1973). Anglophone Marxists will be humbled by the relative paucity of first-rate original material on the Grundrisse in English (see pp 249-256). Based on reading the country-by-country reviews, I get the impression that the most intensive original research on the Grundrisse in recent years has been taking place in East Asia, particularly China (with some coordination by the Chinese Research Society on Capital, a non-governmental organization), South Korea, and Japan.

Although Marx was an anti-disciplinary thinker par excellence, there are notable disciplinary biases in the composition of the 31 contributors to this volume. Most teach political theory, economics, political economy, or history. There are no geographers. This raises a question. Compared to political science, economics, and history, it seems that a relatively large proportion of human geographers today profess to be Marxists. Why then are so few geographers represented in the leading Marxist journals and scholarly volumes? Perhaps this is only a scale effect – there are, after all, far fewer geographers than economists, historians, and political scientists – but perhaps it suggests something about the state of Marxist geography. For some reason
the breadth of Marxian work in our discipline is not resulting in sustained publishing on Marx and Marxism.

This edited volume reflects the fact that we are in a period of renewed, intensive scholarship on Marx. Hobsbawm’s subtle compliment to the book in his Foreword – he calls it “a successful attempt both to display some of the riches of Grundrisse and to place its … fortunes in their international setting” (p. xxiii) – understates its achievements. Make sure that your library bought a copy, and check it out.

Categories
Reviews

Contemporary Sociology. A journal of reviews

When Eric Hobsbawm in 1964 edited and introduced Jack Cohen’s translation of a 53- page fragment of Marx’s mighty Grundrisse in his Pre-Capitalist Economic Formations (International Publishers), even committed readers did not notice its importance to Marxology, just as they had failed to register N. I. Stone’s 1904 translation of the Grundrisse’s introduction (overseen by Karl Kautsky) as the vital clarification, the ‘‘missing link,’’ of Capital that it was later claimed to be.

How do we now know this? Because Marcello Musto (of Naples) persuaded Christopher Arthur (of Sussex, UK) to tell the improbable story of the Grundrisse’s career in English (pp. 249-56), just as he corralled 19 additional scholars to do the same for their countries (from Germany to Japan, from Cuba to Turkey). Musto consumed 1500 emails, many letters and phone calls, help from 200 specialists, and the patience of 31 authors to assemble this estimable volume, which all serious Marxologists will find compelling reading, and everyone outside this circle will not find at all. It is a work of wonderful scholarly madness, a labor of deep devotion to the memory of a great thinker and his single most misunderstood document, and Musto and his collaborators deserve far more credit than they will likely receive in the current ideological environment.

The story of Grundrisse (literally outline, sketch, floorplan) began to become widely evident to the anglophone Marxist world in March 1968, when the young American, Martin Nicolaus, youth of the 60s (now a lawyer in Oakland), announced he had dis- covered ‘‘The Unknown Marx’’ in the New Left Review, a British journal vigorously stud- ied in the United States at the time. He was persuaded by enthusiastic mates to translate all 830 pages of the Grundrisse into English, and the result was published by Penguin Books in 1973, to wide acclaim among the devoted Left—which at that time was large and vocal. A flurry of articles appeared within a few years. From the humanist left, the book was greeted as a great, Hegelian searchlight into Marx’s true, sociological portrait of capitalist dynamics, while the Althusserian structuralists discounted it as a mere warm-up to Capital, and too philo- sophically speculative to qualify as Marxist ‘‘science.’’ Later evaluations punctured exaggerations from both sides, but by that time, in the 80s, the bloom was off the Marx- ist rose, and reaction had set in, so that the whole debate seemed quaint and provincial. Musto and his colleagues—including Iring Fetscher, Moishe Postone, Terrell Carver, John Bellamy Foster, plus a forward by Hobsbawm—have breathed new life into the document, not so much by claiming that it can illuminate the current capitalist crisis, but by firmly locating Marx’s terrific labors of 1857-58 in their proper historical and conceptual context.

Categories
Journal Articles

Revisiting Marx’s Concept of Alienation

I. Introduction
Alienation was one of the most important and widely debated themes of the 20th century, and Marx’s theorization played a key role in the discussions. Yet, contrary to what one might imagine, the concept itself did not develop in a linear manner, and the publication of previously unknown texts containing Marx’s reflections on alienation defined significant moments in the transformation and dissemination of the theory.

The meaning of the term changed several times over the centuries. In theological discourse it referred to the distance between man and God; in social contract theories, to loss of the individual’s original liberty; and in English political economy, to the transfer of property ownership. The first systematic philosophical account of alienation was in the work of G.W.F. Hegel, who in The Phenomenology of Spirit (1807) adopted the terms Entäusserung (literally self-externalization or renunciation) and Entfremdung (estrangement) to denote Spirit’s becoming other than itself in the realm of objectivity. The whole question still featured prominently in the writings of the Hegelian Left, and Ludwig Feuerbach’s theory of religious alienation – that is, of man’s projection of his own essence onto an imaginary deity (in The Essence of Christianity [1841]) – contributed significantly to the development of the concept. Alienation subsequently disappeared from philosophical reflection, and none of the major thinkers of the second half of the 19th century paid it any great attention. Even Marx rarely used the term in the works published during his lifetime, and it was entirely absent from the Marxism of the Second International (1889-1914).

During this period, however, several thinkers developed concepts that were later associated with alienation. In his Division of Labour (1893) and Suicide (1897), Émile Durkheim introduced the term ‘anomie’ to indicate a set of phenomena whereby the norms guaranteeing social cohesion enter into crisis following a major extension of the division of labour. Social trends concomitant with huge changes in the production process also lay at the basis of the thinking of German sociologists: Georg Simmel, in The Philosophy of Money (1900), paid great attention to the dominance of social institutions over individuals and to the growing impersonality of human relations; while Max Weber, in Economy and Society (1922), dwelled on the phenomena of ‘bureaucratization’ in society and ‘rational calculation’ in human relations, considering them to be the essence of capitalism. But these authors thought they were describing unstoppable tendencies, and their reflections were often guided by a wish to improve the existing social and political order – certainly not to replace it with a different one.

II. The rediscovery of alienation
The rediscovery of the theory of alienation occurred thanks to György Lukács, who in History and Class Consciousness (1923) referred to certain passages in Marx’s Capital (1867) – especially the section on ‘commodity fetishism’ (Der Fetischcharakter der Ware) – and introduced the term ‘reification’ (Verdinglichung, Versachlichung) to describe the phenomenon whereby labour activity confronts human beings as something objective and independent, dominating them through external autonomous laws. In essence, however, Lukács’s theory was still similar to Hegel’s, since he conceived of reification as a structural given. Much later, after the appearance of a French translation [1] had given this work a wide resonance among students and left-wing activists, Lukács decided to republish it together with a long self-critical preface (1967), in which he explained that ‘History and Class Consciousness follows Hegel in that it too equates alienation with objectification’.[2]

Another author who focused on this theme in the 1920s was Isaak Rubin, whose Essays on Marx’s Theory of Value (1928) argued that the theory of commodity fetishism was ‘the basis of Marx’s entire economic system, and in particular of his theory of value’. [3] In the view of this Russian author, the reification of social relations was ‘a real fact of the commodity-capitalist economy.’[4] It involved ‘”materialization” of production relations and not only “mystification” or illusion. This is one of the characteristics of the economic structure of contemporary society…. Fetishism is not only a phenomenon of social consciousness, but of social being.’[5]

Despite these insights – prescient if we consider the period in which they were written – Rubin’s work did not promote a greater familiarity with the theory of alienation; its reception in the West began only with its translation into English in 1972 (and from English into other languages).

The decisive event that finally revolutionized the diffusion of the concept of alienation was the appearance in 1932 of the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, a previously unpublished text from Marx’s youth. It rapidly became one of the most widely translated, circulated and discussed philosophical writings of the 20th century, revealing the central role that Marx had given to the theory of alienation during an important period for the formation of his economic thought: the discovery of political economy.[6] For, with his category of alienated labour (entfremdete Arbeit),[7] Marx not only widened the problem of alienation from the philosophical, religious and political sphere to the economic sphere of material production; he also showed that the economic sphere was essential to understanding and overcoming alienation in the other spheres. In the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, alienation is presented as the phenomenon through which the labour product confronts labour ‘as something alien, as a power independentof the producer’. For Marx,

‘the externalization [Entäusserung] of the worker in his product means not only that his labour becomes an object, an external existence, but that it exists outside him, independently of him and alien to him, and begins to confront him as an autonomous power; that the life which he has bestowed on the object confronts him as hostile and alien.’[8]

Alongside this general definition, Marx listed four ways in which the worker is alienated in bourgeois society: 1) from the product of his labour, which becomes ‘an alien object that has power over him’; 2) in his working activity, which he perceives as ‘directed against himself’, as if it ‘does not belong to him’;[9] 3) from ‘man’s species-being’, which is transformed into ‘a being alien to him’; and 4) from other human beings, and in relation to their labour and the object of their labour.[10]

For Marx, in contrast to Hegel, alienation was not coterminous with objectification as such, but rather with a particular phenomenon within a precise form of economy: that is, wage labour and the transformation of labour products into objects standing opposed to producers. The political difference between these two positions is enormous. Whereas Hegel presented alienation as an ontological manifestation of labour, Marx conceived it as characteristic of a particular, capitalist, epoch of production, and thought it would be possible to overcome it through ‘the emancipation of society from private property’.[11] He would make similar points in the notebooks containing extracts from James Mill’s Elements of Political Economy:

‘Labour would be the free expression and hence the enjoyment of life. In the framework of private property it is the alienation of life since I work in order to live, in order to procure for myself the means of life. My labour is not life. Moreover, in my labour the specific character of my individuality would be affirmed because it would be my individual life. Labour would be authentic, active, property. In the framework of private property my individuality has been alienated to the point where I loathe this activity, it is torture for me. It is in fact no more than the appearance of activity and for that reason it is only a forced labour imposed on me not through an inner necessity but through an external arbitrary need.’ [12]

So, even in these fragmentary and sometimes hesitant early writings, Marx always discussed alienation from a historical, not a natural, point of view.

III. Non-Marxist conceptions of alienation
Much time would elapse, however, before a historical, non-ontological, conception of alienation could take hold. In the early 20th century, most authors who addressed the phenomenon considered it a universal aspect of human existence. In Being and Time (1927), for instance, Martin Heidegger approached it in purely philosophical terms. The category he used for his phenomenology of alienation was ‘fallenness’ (Verfallen): that is, the tendency of Being-There (Dasein – ontologically constituted human existence) to lose itself in the inauthenticity and conformism of the surrounding world. For Heidegger, ‘fallenness into the world means an absorption in Being-with-one-another, in so far as the latter is guided by idle talk, curiosity, and ambiguity’ – something truly quite different from the condition of the factory worker, which was at the centre of Marx’s theoretical preoccupations. Moreover, Heidegger did not regard this ‘fallenness’ as a ‘bad and deplorable ontical property of which, perhaps, more advanced stages of human culture might be able to rid themselves’, but rather as an ontological characteristic, ‘an existential mode of Being-in-the-world’. [13]

Herbert Marcuse, who, unlike Heidegger, knew Marx’s work well, identified alienation with objectification as such, not with its manifestation in capitalist relations of production. In an essay he published in 1933, he argued that ‘the burdensome character of labor’ [14] could not be attributed merely to ‘specific conditions in the performance of labor, to the social-technical structuring of labor’[15], but should be considered as one of its fundamental traits:

‘In laboring, the laborer is always “with the thing”: whether one stands by a machine, draws technical plans, is concerned with organizational measures, researches scientific problems, instructs people, etc. In his activity he allows himself to be directed by the thing, subjects himself and obeys its laws, even when he dominates his object…. In each case he is not “with himself” … he is with an “Other than himself” – even when this doing fulfils his own freely assumed life. This externalization and alienation of human existence … is ineliminable in principle.’ [16]

For Marcuse, there was a ‘primordial negativity of laboring activity’ that belonged to the ‘very essence of human existence’. [17] The critique of alienation therefore became a critique of technology and labour in general, and its supersession was considered possible only in the moment of play, when people could attain a freedom denied them in productive activity: ‘In a single toss of a ball, the player achieves an infinitely greater triumph of human freedom over objectification than in the most powerful accomplishment of technical labor.’[18]

In Eros and Civilization (1955), Marcuse took an equally clear distance from Marx’s conception, arguing that human emancipation could be achieved only through the abolition of labour and the affirmation of the libido and play in social relations. He discarded any possibility that a society based on common ownership of the means of production might overcome alienation, on the grounds that labour in general, not only wage labour, was

‘work for an apparatus which they [the vast majority of the population] do not control, which operates as an independent power to which individuals must submit if they want to live. And it becomes the more alien the more specialized the division of labor becomes…. They work … in alienation [… in the] absence of gratification [and in] negation of the pleasure principle.’[19]

The cardinal norm against which people should rebel was the ‘performance principle’ imposed by society. For, in Marcuse’s eyes,

‘the conflict between sexuality and civilization unfolds with this development of domination. Under the rule of the performance principle, body and mind are made into instruments of alienated labor; they can function as such instruments only if they renounce the freedom of the libidinal subject-object which the human organism primarily is and desires…. Man exists … as an instrument of alienated performance.’ [20]

Hence, even if material production is organized equitably and rationally, ‘it can never be a realm of freedom and gratification…. It is the sphere outside labor which defines freedom and fulfilment.’[21] Marcuse’s alternative was to abandon the Promethean myth so dear to Marx and to draw closer to a Dionysian perspective: the ‘liberation of eros’. [22] In contrast to Freud, who had maintained in Civilization and Its Discontents (1929) that a non-repressive organization of society would entail a dangerous regression from the level of civilization attained in human relations, Marcuse was convinced that, if the liberation of the instincts took place in a technologically advanced ‘free society’ [23] in the service of humanity, it would not only favour the march of progress but create ‘new and durable work relations’.[24] But his indications about how the new society might come about were rather vague and utopian. He ended up opposing technological domination in general, so that his critique of alienation was no longer directed against capitalist relations of production, and his reflections on social change were so pessimistic as to include the working class among the subjects that operated in defence of the system.

The two leading figures in the Frankfurt School, Max Horkheimer and Theodor Adorno, also developed a theory of generalized estrangement resulting from invasive social control and the manipulation of needs by the mass media. In Dialectic of Enlightenment (1944) they argued that ‘a technological rationale is the rationale of domination itself. It is the coercive nature of society alienated from itself.’ [25] This meant that, in contemporary capitalism, even the sphere of leisure time – free and outside of work – was absorbed into the mechanisms reproducing consensus.

After World War II, the concept of alienation also found its way into psychoanalysis. Those who took it up started from Freud’s theory that man is forced to choose between nature and culture, and that, to enjoy the securities of civilization, he must necessarily renounce his impulses. [26] Some psychologists linked alienation with the psychoses that appeared in certain individuals as a result of this conflict-ridden choice, thereby reducing the whole vast problematic of alienation to a merely subjective phenomenon.

The author who dealt most with alienation from within psychoanalysis was Erich Fromm. Unlike most of his colleagues, he never separated its manifestations from the capitalist historical context; indeed, his books The Sane Society (1955) and Marx’s Concept of Man (1961) used the concept to try to build a bridge between psychoanalysis and Marxism. Yet Fromm likewise always put the main emphasis on subjectivity, and his concept of alienation, which he summarized as ‘a mode of experience in which the individual experiences himself as alien’, [27] remained too narrowly focused on the individual. Moreover, his account of Marx’s concept based itself only on the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 and showed a deep lack of understanding of the specificity and centrality of alienated labour in Marx’s thought. This lacuna prevented Fromm from giving due weight to objective alienation (that of the worker in the labour process and in relation to the labour product) and led him to advance positions that appear disingenuous in their neglect of the underlying structural relations.

‘Marx believed that the working class was the most alienated class…. [He] did not foresee the extent to which alienation was to become the fate of the vast majority of people…. If anything, the clerk, the salesman, the executive, are even more alienated today than the skilled manual worker. The latter’s functioning still depends on the expression of certain personal qualities like skill, reliability, etc., and he is not forced to sell his “personality”, his smile, his opinions in the bargain.’[28]

One of the principal non-Marxist theories of alienation is that associated with Jean-Paul Sartre and the French existentialists. Indeed, in the 1940s, marked by the horrors of war and the ensuing crise de conscience, the phenomenon of alienation – partly under the influence of Alexandre Kojève’s neo-Hegelianism[29] – became a recurrent reference both in philosophy and in narrative literature. Once again, however, the concept is much more generic than in Marx’s thought, becoming identified with a diffuse discontent of man in society, a split between human individuality and the world of experience, and an insurmountable condition humaine. The existentialist philosophers did not propose a social origin for alienation, but saw it as inevitably bound up with all ‘facticity’ (no doubt the failure of the Soviet experience favoured such a view) and human otherness. In 1955, Jean Hippolyte set out this position in one of the most significant works in this tendency:

‘[alienation] does not seem to be reducible solely to the concept of the alienation of man under capitalism, as Marx understands it. The latter is only a particular case of a more universal problem of human self-consciousness which, being unable to conceive itself as an isolated cogito, can only recognize itself in a word which it constructs, in the other selves which it recognizes and by whom it is occasionally disowned. But this manner of self-discovery through the Other, this objectification, is always more or less an alienation, a loss of self and a simultaneous self-discovery. Thus objectification and alienation are inseparable, and their union is simply the expression of a dialectical tension observed in the very movement of history.’[30]

Marx helped to develop a critique of human subjugation, basing himself on opposition to capitalist relations of production. The existentialists followed an opposite trajectory, trying to absorb those parts of Marx’s work that they thought useful for their own approach, in a merely philosophical discussion devoid of a specific historical critique.[31]

IV. The debate on Marx’s early writings about alienation
The alienation debate that developed in France frequently drew upon Marx’s theories. Often, however, it referred only to the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844; not even the sections of Capital that Lukács had used to construct his theory of reification were taken into consideration. Moreover, some sentences from the 1844 Manuscripts were taken out of context and transformed into sensational quotes supposedly proving the existence of a radically different ‘new Marx’, saturated with philosophy and free of the economic determinism that critics attributed to Capital (often without having read it). Again on the basis of the 1844 texts, the French existentialists laid by far the greatest emphasis on the concept of self-alienation (Selbstentfremdung), that is, the alienation of the worker from the human species and from others like himself – a phenomenon that Marx did discuss in his early writings, but always in connection with objective alienation.

The same glaring error appears in a leading figure of postwar political theory, Hannah Arendt. In her The Human Condition (1958), she built her account of Marx’s concept of alienation around the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, even then isolating out only one of the types mentioned there by Marx: subjective alienation. This allowed her to claim:

‘expropriation and world alienation coincide, and the modern age, very much against the intentions of all the actors in the play, began by alienating certain strata of the population from the world. […] World alienation, and not self-alienation as Marx thought, has been the hallmark of the modern age.’ [32]

Evidence of her scant familiarity with Marx’s mature work is the fact that, in conceding that Marx ‘was not altogether unaware of the implications of world alienation in capitalist economy’, she referred only to a few lines in his very early journalistic piece, ‘The Debates on the Wood Theft Laws’ (1842), not to the dozens of much more important pages in Capital and the preparatory manuscripts leading up to it. Her surprising conclusion was: ‘such occasional considerations play[ed] a minor role in his work, which remained firmly rooted in the modern age’s extreme subjectivism’. [33] Where and how Marx prioritized ‘self-alienation’ in his analysis of capitalist society remains a mystery that Arendt never elucidated in her writings.

In the 1960s, the theory of alienation in the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 became the major bone of contention in the wider interpretation of Marx’s work. It was argued that a sharp distinction should be drawn between an ‘early Marx’ and a ‘mature Marx’ – an arbitrary and artificial opposition favoured both by those who preferred the early philosophical work and those for whom the only real Marx was the Marx of Capital (among them Louis Althusser and the Russian scholars). Whereas the former considered the theory of alienation in the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 to be the most significant part of Marx’s social critique, the latter often exhibited a veritable ‘phobia of alienation’ and tried at first to downplay its relevance[34]; or, when this strategy was no longer possible, the whole theme of alienation was written off as ‘a youthful peccadillo, a residue of Hegelianism’ [35] that Marx later abandoned. Scholars in the first camp retorted that the 1844 manuscripts were written by a man of twenty-six just embarking on his major studies; but those in the second camp still refused to accept the importance of Marx’s theory of alienation, even when the publication of new texts made it clear that he never lost interest in it and that it occupied an important position in the main stages of his life’s work.

To argue, as so many did, that the theory of alienation in the 1844 Manuscripts was the central theme of Marx’s thought was so obviously wrong that it demonstrated no more than ignorance of his work.[36] On the other hand, when Marx again became the most frequently discussed and quoted author in world philosophical literature because of his newly published pages on alienation, the silence from the Soviet Union on this whole topic, and on the controversies associated with it, provided a striking example of the instrumental use made of his writings in that country. For the existence of alienation in the Soviet Union and its satellites was dismissed out of hand, and any texts relating to the question were treated with suspicion. As Henri Lefebvre put it, ‘in Soviet society, alienation could and must no longer be an issue. By order from above, for reasons of State, the concept had to disappear.’[37] Therefore, until the 1970s, very few authors in the ‘socialist camp’ paid any attention to the works in question.

A number of well-known Western authors also played down the complexity of the phenomenon. Lucien Goldmann, for instance, thought it possible to overcome alienation in the social-economic conditions of the time, and in his Recherches dialectiques (1959) argued that it would disappear, or recede, under the mere impact of planning. ‘Reification,’ he wrote, ‘is in fact a phenomenon closely bound up with the absence of planning and with production for the market’; Soviet socialism in the East and Keynesian policies in the West were resulting ‘in the first case in the elimination of reification, and in the second case in its progressive weakening’.[38] History has demonstrated the faultiness of his predictions.

V. The irresistible fascination of the theory of alienation
In the 1960s a real vogue began for theories of alienation, and hundreds of books and articles were published on it around the world. It was the age of alienation tout court. Authors from various political backgrounds and academic disciplines identified its causes as commodification, overspecialization, anomie, bureaucratization, conformism, consumerism, loss of a sense of self amid new technologies, even personal isolation, apathy, social or ethnic marginalization, and environmental pollution.

The concept of alienation seemed to express the spirit of the age to perfection, and indeed, in its critique of capitalist society, it became a meeting ground for anti-Soviet philosophical Marxism and the most democratic and progressive currents in the Catholic world. However, the popularity of the concept, and its indiscriminate application, created a profound terminological ambiguity.[39] Within the space of a few years, alienation thus became an empty formula ranging right across the spectrum of human unhappiness – so all-encompassing that it generated the belief that it could never be modified.[40]

With Guy Debord’s book The Society of the Spectacle, which became soon after its first publication in 1967 a veritable manifesto for the generation of students in revolt against the system, alienation theory linked up with the critique of immaterial production. Building on the theses of Horkheimer and Adorno, according to which the manufacturing of consent to the social order had spread to the leisure industry, Debord argued that the sphere of non-labour could no longer be considered separate from productive activity:

‘Whereas during the primitive stage of capitalist accumulation “political economy considers the proletarian only as a worker”, who only needs to be allotted the indispensable minimum for maintaining his labour power, and never considers him “in his leisure and humanity”, this ruling-class perspective is revised as soon as commodity abundance reaches a level that requires an additional collaboration from him. Once his workday is over, the worker is suddenly redeemed from the total contempt toward him that is so clearly implied by every aspect of the organization and surveillance of production, and finds himself seemingly treated like a grownup, with a great show of politeness, in his new role as a consumer. At this point the humanism of the commodity takes charge of the worker’s “leisure and humanity” simply because political economy now can and must dominate those spheres.’[41]

For Debord, then, whereas the domination of the economy over social life initially took the form of a ‘degradation of being into having’, in the ‘present stage’ there had been a ‘general shift from having to appearing’.[42] This idea led him to place the world of spectacle at the centre of his analysis: ‘The spectacle’s social function is the concrete manufacture of alienation’,[43] the phenomenon through which ‘the fetishism of the commodity … attains its ultimate fulfilment’.[44] In these circumstances, alienation asserted itself to such a degree that it actually became an exciting experience for individuals, a new opium of the people that led them to consume and ‘identify with the dominant images’, [45] taking them ever further from their own desires and real existence:

‘the spectacle is the stage at which the commodity has succeeded in totally colonizing social life…. Modern economic production extends its dictatorship both extensively and intensively. […] With the “second industrial revolution”, alienated consumption has become just as much a duty for the masses as alienated production.’[46]

In the wake of Debord, Jean Baudrillard has also used the concept of alienation to interpret critically the social changes that have appeared with mature capitalism. In The Consumer Society (1970), distancing himself from the Marxist focus on the centrality of production, he identified consumption as the primary factor in modern society. The ‘age of consumption’, in which advertising and opinion polls create spurious needs and mass consensus, was also ‘the age of radical alienation’.

‘Commodity logic has become generalized and today governs not only labour processes and material products, but the whole of culture, sexuality, and human relations, including even fantasies and individual drives…. Everything is spectacularized or, in other words, evoked, provoked and orchestrated into images, signs, consumable models.’[47]

Baudrillard’s political conclusions, however, were rather confused and pessimistic. Faced with social ferment on a mass scale, he thought ‘the rebels of May 1968’ had fallen into the trap of ‘reifying objects and consumption excessively by according them diabolic value’; and he criticized ‘all the disquisitions on “alienation”, and all the derisive force of pop and anti-art’ as a mere ‘indictment [that] is part of the game: it is the critical mirage, the anti-fable which rounds off the fable’.[48] Now a long way from Marxism, for which the working class is the social reference point for changing the world, he ended his book with a messianic appeal, as generic as it was ephemeral: ‘We shall await the violent irruptions and sudden disintegrations which will come, just as unforeseeably and as certainly as May 1968, to wreck this white Mass.’ [49]

VI. Alienation theory in North American sociology
In the 1950s, the concept of alienation also entered the vocabulary of North American sociology, but the approach to the subject there was quite different from the one prevailing in Europe at the time. Mainstream sociology treated alienation as a problem of the individual human being, not of social relations, [50] and the search for solutions centred on the capacity of individuals to adjust to the existing order, not on collective practices to change society.[51]

Here, too, there was a long period of uncertainty before a clear and shared definition took shape. Some authors considered alienation to be a positive phenomenon, a means of expressing creativity, which was inherent in the human condition in general.[52] Another common view was that it sprang from the fissure between individual and society;[53] Seymour Melman, for instance, traced alienation to the split between the formulation and execution of decisions, and considered that it affected workers and managers alike.[54] In ‘A Measure of Alienation’ (1957), which inaugurated a debate on the concept in the American Sociological Review, Gwynn Nettler used an opinion survey as a way of trying to establish a definition. But, in sharp contrast to the rigorous labour-movement tradition of investigations into working conditions, his questionnaire seemed to draw its inspiration more from the McCarthyite canons of the time than from those of scientific research.[55] For in effect he identified alienation with a rejection of the conservative principles of American society: ‘consistent maintenance of unpopular and averse attitudes toward familism, the mass media and mass taste, current events, popular education, conventional religion and the telic view of life, nationalism, and the voting process’. [56]

The conceptual narrowness of the American sociological panorama changed after the publication of Melvin Seeman’s short article ‘On the Meaning of Alienation’ (1959), which soon became an obligatory reference for all scholars in the field. His list of the five main types of alientation – powerlessness, meaninglessness (that is, the inability to understand the events in which one is inserted), normlessness, isolation and self-estrangement [57] – showed that he too approached the phenomenon in a primarily subjective perspective. Robert Blauner, in his book Alienation and Freedom (1964), similarly defined alienation as ‘a quality of personal experience which results from specific kinds of social arrangements’ [58] , even if his copious research led him to trace its causes to ‘employment in the large-scale organizations and impersonal bureaucracies that pervade all industrial societies’. [59]

American sociology, then, generally saw alienation as a problem linked to the system of industrial production, whether capitalist or socialist, and mainly affecting human consciousness. [60] This major shift of approach ultimately downgraded, or even excluded, analysis of the historical-social factors that determine alienation, producing a kind of hyper-psychologization that treated it not as a social problem but as a pathological symptom of individuals, curable at the individual level. [61] Whereas in the Marxist tradition the concept of alienation had contributed to some of the sharpest criticisms of the capitalist mode of production, its institutionalization in the realm of sociology reduced it to a phenomenon of individual maladjustment to social norms. In the same way, the critical dimension that the concept had had in philosophy (even for authors who thought it a horizon that could never be transcended) now gave way to an illusory neutrality. [62]

Another effect of this metamorphosis was the theoretical impoverishment of the concept. From a complex phenomenon related to man’s work activity and social and intellectual existence, alienation became a partial category divided up in accordance with academic research specializations. [63] American sociologists argued that this methodological choice enabled them to free the study of alienation from any political connotations and to confer on it scientific objectivity. But, in reality, this a-political ‘turn’ had evident ideological implications, since support for the dominant values and social order lay hidden behind the banner of de-ideologization and value-neutrality.

So, the difference between Marxist and American sociological conceptions of alienation was not that the former were political and the latter scientific. Rather, Marxist theorists were bearers of values opposed to the hegemonic ones in American society, whereas the US sociologists upheld the values of the existing social order, skillfully dressed up as eternal values of the human species. [64] In the American academic context, the concept of alienation underwent a veritable distortion and ended up being used by defenders of the very social classes against which it had for so long been directed. [65]

VII. Alienation in Capital and the preparatory manuscripts
Marx’s own writings played an important role for those seeking to counter this situation. The initial focus on the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 tended to shift after the publication of new texts, making it possible to reconstruct the development of his thought more accurately.

In the second half of the 1840s, Marx no longer made frequent use of the term ‘alienation’; the main exceptions were his first book, The Holy Family (1845), jointly authored with Engels, where it appears in some polemics against Bruno and Edgar Bauer, and one passage in The German Ideology (1845-6), also written with Engels. Once he had abandoned the idea of publishing The German Ideology, he returned to the theory of alienation in Wage Labour and Capital, a collection of articles based on lectures he gave to the German Workers’ League in Brussels in 1847, but the term itself does not appear in them, because it would have had too abstract a ring for his intended audience. In these texts, he wrote that wage labour does not enter into the worker’s ‘own life activity’ but represents a ‘sacrifice of his life’. Labour-power is a commodity that the worker is forced to sell ‘in order to live’, and ‘the product of his activity [is] not the object of his activity’: [66]

‘the worker, who for twelve hours weaves, spins, drills, turns, builds, shovels, breaks stones, carries loads, etc. – does he consider this twelve hours’ weaving, spinning, drilling, turning, building, shovelling, stone-breaking as a manifestation of his life, as life? On the contrary, life begins for him where these activities cease, at table, in the public house, in bed. The twelve hours’ labour, on the other hand, have no meaning for him as weaving, spinning, drilling, etc. but as earnings, which bring him to the table, to the public house, into bed. If the silkworm were to spin in order to continue its existence as a caterpillar, it would be a complete wage-worker.’[67]

Until the late 1850s there were no more references to the theory of alienation in Marx’s work. Following the defeat of the 1848 revolutions, he was forced to go into exile in London; once there, he concentrated all his energies on the study of political economy and, apart from a few short works with a historical theme,[68] did not publish another book. When he began to write about economics again, however, in the Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy (better known as the Grundrisse), he more than once used the term ‘alienation’. This text recalled in many respects the analyses of the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, although nearly a decade of studies in the British Library had allowed him to make them considerably more profound:

‘The social character of activity, as well as the social form of the product, and the share of individuals in production here appear as something alien and objective, confronting the individuals, not as their relation to one another, but as their subordination to relations which subsist independently of them and which arise out of collisions between mutually indifferent individuals. The general exchange of activities and products, which has become a vital condition for each individual – their mutual interconnection – here appears as something alien to them, autonomous, as a thing. In exchange value, the social connection between persons is transformed into a social relation between things; personal capacity into objective wealth.’ [69]

The account of alienation in the Grundrisse, then, is enriched by a greater understanding of economic categories and by more rigorous social analysis. The link it establishes between alienation and exchange-value is an important aspect of this. And, in one of the most dazzling passages on this phenomenon of modern society, Marx links alienation to the opposition between capital and ‘living labour-power’:

‘The objective conditions of living labour appear as separated, independent values opposite living labour capacity as subjective being…. The objective conditions of living labour capacity are presupposed as having an existence independent of it, as the objectivity of a subject distinct from living labour capacity and standing independently over against it; the reproduction and realization, i.e. the expansion of these objective conditions, is therefore at the same time their own reproduction and new production as the wealth of an alien subject indifferently and independently standing over against labour capacity. What is reproduced and produced anew is not only the presence of these objective conditions of living labour, but also their presence as independent values, i.e. values belonging to an alien subject, confronting this living labour capacity. The objective conditions of labour attain a subjective existence vis-à-vis living labour capacity – capital turns into capitalist.’ [70]

The Grundrisse was not the only text of Marx’s maturity to feature an account of alienation. Five years after it was composed, the ‘Results of the Immediate Process of Production’ – also known as ‘Capital, Volume One: Book 1, Chapter VI, unpublished’ (1863-4) – brought the economic and political analyses of alienation more closely together. ‘The rule of the capitalist over the worker,’ Marx wrote, ‘is the rule of things over man, of dead labour over the living, of the product over the producer.’[71] In capitalist society, by virtue of ‘the transposition of the social productivity of labour into the material attributes of capital’,[72] there is a veritable ‘personification of things and reification of persons’, creating the appearance that ‘the material conditions of labour are not subject to the worker, but he to them’.[73] In reality, he argued:

‘Capital is not a thing, any more than money is a thing. In capital, as in money, certain specific social relations of production between people appear as relations of things to people, or else certain social relations appear as the natural properties of things in society. Without a class dependent on wages, the moment individuals confront each other as free persons, there can be no production of surplus-value; without the production of surplus-value there can be no capitalist production, and hence no capital and no capitalist! Capital and wage-labour (it is thus we designate the labour of the worker who sells his own labour-power) only express two aspects of the self-same relationship. Money cannot become capital unless it is exchanged for labour-power, a commodity sold by the worker himself. Conversely, work can only be wage-labour when its own material conditions confront it as autonomous powers, alien property, value existing for itself and maintaining itself, in short as capital. If capital in its material aspects, i.e. in the use-values in which it has its being, must depend for its existence on the material conditions of labour, these material conditions must equally, on the formal side, confront labour as alien, autonomous powers, as value – objectified labour – which treats living labour as a mere means whereby to maintain and increase itself.’[74]

In the capitalist mode of production, human labour becomes an instrument of the valorization process of capital, which, ‘by incorporating living labour-power into the material constituents of capital,… becomes an animated monster and … starts to act “as if consumed by love”.’ [75] This mechanism keeps expanding in scale, until co-operation in the production process, scientific discoveries and the deployment of machinery – all of them social processes belonging to the collective – become forces of capital that appear as its natural properties, confronting the workers in the shape of the capitalist order:

‘The productive forces … developed [by] social labour … appear as the productive forces of capitalism. […] Collective unity in co-operation, combination in the division of labour, the use of the forces of nature and the sciences, of the products of labour, as machinery – all these confront the individual workers as something alien, objective, ready-made, existing without their intervention, and frequently even hostile to them. They all appear quite simply as the prevailing forms of the instruments of labour. As objects they are independent of the workers whom they dominate. Though the workshop is to a degree the product of the workers’ combination, its entire intelligence and will seem to be incorporated in the capitalist or his understrappers, and the workers find themselves confronted by the functions of the capital that lives in the capitalist.’ [76]

Through this process capital becomes something ‘highly mysterious’. ‘The conditions of labour pile up in front of the worker as social forces, and they assume a capitalized form.’[77] Beginning in the 1960s, the diffusion of ‘Capital, Volume One: Book 1, Chapter VI, unpublished’ and, above all, of the Grundrisse paved the way for a conception of alienation different from the one then hegemonic in sociology and psychology. It was a conception geared to the overcoming of alienation in practice – to the political action of social movements, parties and trade unions to change the working and living conditions of the working class.The publication of what (after the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 in the 1930s) may be thought of as the ‘second generation’ of Marx’s writings on alienation therefore provided not only a coherent theoretical basis for new studies of alienation, but above all an anti-capitalist ideological platform for the extraordinary political and social movement that exploded in the world during those years. Alienation left the books of philosophers and the lecture halls of universities, took to the streets and the space of workers’ struggles, and became a critique of bourgeois society in general.

VIII. Commodity fetishism and de-alienation
One of Marx’s best accounts of alienation is contained in the famous section of Capital on ‘The Fetishism of the Commodity and Its Secret’, where he shows that, in capitalist society, people are dominated by the products they have created. Here, the relations among them appear not ‘as direct social relations between persons…, but rather as material relations between persons and social relations between things’: [78]

‘The mysterious character of the commodity-form consists … in the fact that the commodity reflects the social characteristics of men’s own labour as objective characteristics of the products of labour themselves, as the socio-natural properties of these things. Hence it also reflects the social relation of the producers to the sum total of labour as a social relation between objects, a relation which exists apart from and outside the producers. Through this substitution, the products of labour become commodities, sensuous things which are at the same time supra-sensible or social. […] It is nothing but the definite social relation between men themselves which assumes here, for them, the fantastic form of a relation between things. In order, therefore, to find an analogy we must take flight into the misty realm of religion. There the products of the human brain appear as autonomous figures endowed with a life of their own, which enter into relations both with each other and with the human race. So it is in the world of commodities with the products of men’s hands. I call this the fetishism which attaches itself to the products of labour as soon as they are produced as commodities, and is therefore inseparable from the production of commodities.’[79]

Two elements in this definition mark a clear dividing line between Marx’s conception of alienation and the one held by most of the other authors we have been discussing. First, Marx conceives of fetishism not as an individual problem but as a social phenomenon, not as an affair of the mind but as a real power, a particular form of domination, which establishes itself in market economy as a result of the transformation of objects into subjects. For this reason, his analysis of alienation does not confine itself to the disquiet of individual women and men, but extends to the social processes and productive activities underlying it. Second, for Marx fetishism manifests itself in a precise historical reality of production, the reality of wage labour; it is not part of the relation between people and things as such, but rather of the relation between man and a particular kind of objectivity: the commodity form.

In bourgeois society, human qualities and relations turn into qualities and relations among things. This theory of what Lukács would call reification illustrated alienation from the point of view of human relations, while the concept of fetishism treated it in relation to commodities. Pace those who deny that a theory of alienation is present in Marx’s mature work, we should stress that commodity fetishism did not replace alienation but was only one aspect of it.[80]

The theoretical advance from the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 to Capital and its related materials does not, however, consist only in the greater precision of his account of alienation. There is also a reformulation of the measures that Marx considers necessary for it to be overcome. Whereas in 1844 he had argued that human beings would eliminate alienation by abolishing private production and the division of labour, the path to a society free of alienation was much more complicated in Capital and its preparatory manuscripts. Marx held that capitalism was a system in which the workers were subject to capital and the conditions it imposed. Nevertheless, it had created the foundations for a more advanced society, and by generalizing its benefits humanity would be able to progress along the faster road of social development that it had opened up. According to Marx, a system that produced an enormous accumulation of wealth for the few and deprivation and exploitation for the general mass of workers must be replaced with ‘an association of free men, working with the means of production held in common, and expending their many different forms of labour-power in full self-awareness as one single social labour force’.[81] This type of production would differ from wage labour because it would place its determining factors under collective governance, take on an immediately general character and convert labour into a truly social activity. This was a conception of society at the opposite pole from Hobbes’s “war of all against all”; and its creation did not require a merely political process, but would necessarily involve transformation of the sphere of production. But such a change in the labour process had its limits:

‘Freedom, in this sphere, can consist only in this, that socialized man, the associated producers, govern the human metabolism with nature in a rational way, bringing it under their collective control instead of being dominated by it as a blind power; accomplishing it with the least expenditure of energy and in conditions most worthy and appropriate for their human nature.’[82]

This post-capitalist system of production, together with scientific-technological progress and a consequent reduction of the working day, creates the possibility for a new social formation in which the coercive, alienated labour imposed by capital and subject to its laws is gradually replaced with conscious, creative activity beyond the yoke of necessity, and in which complete social relations take the place of random, undifferentiated exchange dictated by the laws of commodities and money.[83] It is no longer the realm of freedom for capital but the realm of genuine human freedom.

References
1. Histoire et conscience de classe, trans. Kostas Axelos and Jacqueline Bois, Paris: Minuit, 1960.
2. Georg Lukács, History and Class Consciousness, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1971, xxiv.
3. Isaak Illich Rubin, Essays on Marx’s Theory of Value, Detroit: Black & Red, 1972, 5.
4. Ibid., 28 (trans. mod.).
5. Ibid., 59.
6. In fact, Marx had already used the concept of alienation before he wrote the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844. In one text he published in the Deutsch-Französische Jahrbücher (February 1844) he wrote: ‘It is […] the task of history, once the other-world of truth has vanished, to establish the truth of this world. It is the immediate task of philosophy, which is in the service of history, to unmask self-estrangement in its unholy forms once the holy form of human self-estrangement has been unmasked. Thus the criticism of heaven turns into the criticism of earth, the criticism of religion into the criticism of law and the criticism of theology into the criticism of politics.’ Karl Marx, ‘A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right. Introduction’, in Karl Marx, Early Writings, London: Penguin, 1992, 244-5.
7. In Marx’s writings one finds the term Entfremdung (‘estrangement’) as well as Entäusserung. These had different meanings in Hegel, but Marx uses them synonymously. See Marcella D’Abbiero, Alienazione in Hegel. Usi e significati di Entäusserung, Entfremdung Veräusserung, Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo, 1970, 25-7.
8. Karl Marx, ‘Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts (1844)’, in Early Writings, 324.
9. Ibid., 327.
10. Ibid., 330. For an account of Marx’s four-part typology of alienation, see Bertell Ollman, Alienation, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1971, 136-52.
11. Karl Marx, ‘Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts (1844)’, 333.
12. Karl Marx, ‘Excerpts from James Mill’s Elements of Political Economy’, in Early Writings, 278.
13. Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, San Francisco: Harper, 1962, 220-1. In the 1967 preface to his republished History and Class Consciousness, Lukács observed that in Heidegger alienation became a politically innocuous concept that ‘sublimated a critique of society into a purely philosophical problem’ (Lukács, xxiv). Heidegger also tried to distort the meaning of Marx’s concept of alienation: in his ‘Letter on Humanism’ (1946), he noted approvingly that, ‘by experiencing alienation, [Marx] attains an essential dimension of history’ (Martin Heidegger, ‘Letter on Humanism’, in Basic Writings, London: Routledge, 1993, 243) – a misleading formulation which has no basis in Marx’s writings.
14. Herbert Marcuse, ‘On the Philosophical Foundation of the Concept of Labor in Economics’, Telos 16 (Summer 1973), 25.
15. Ibid., 16-17.
16. Ibid., 25.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid., 14-15.
19. Herbert Marcuse, Eros and Civilization, Boston: Beacon Press, 1966, 45.
20. Ibid., 46-7. Georges Friedmann was of the same view, arguing in The Anatomy of Work (New York: Glencoe Press, 1964) that the overcoming of alienation was possible only after liberation from work.
21. Marcuse, Eros and Civilization, 156.
22. Ibid., 155.
23. Ibid., 198.
24. Ibid., 155. Cf. the evocation of a ‘libidinal rationality which is not only compatible with but even promotes progress toward higher forms of civilized freedom’ (199). On the relationship between technology and progress, see Kostas Axelos, Alienation, Praxis, and Techné in the Thought of Karl Marx, Austin/London: University of Texas Press, 1976.
25. Max Horkheimer, Theodor W. Adorno, Dialectic of Enlightenment, New York: Seabury Press, 1972, 121.
26. See Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents, New York: Norton, 1962, 62.
27. Erich Fromm, The Sane Society, New York: Fawcett, 1965, 111.
28. Erich Fromm, Marx’s Concept of Man, New York: Frederick Ungar, 1961, 56-7. This failure to understand the specific character of alienated labour recurs in his writings on alienation in the 1960s. In an essay published in 1965 he wrote: ‘One has to examine the phenomenon of alienation in its relation to narcissism, depression, fanaticism, and idolatry to understand it fully.’ ‘The Application of Humanist Psychoanalysis to Marx’s Theory’, in Erich Fromm, ed., Socialist Humanism, New York: Doubleday, 1965, 221.
29. See Alexandre Kojeve, Introduction to the Reading of Hegel: Lectures on the Phenomenology of Spirit, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1980.
30. Jean Hyppolite, Studies on Marx and Hegel, New York/London: Basic Books, 1969, 88.
31. Cf.István Mészáros, Marx’s Theory of Alienation, London: Merlin Press, 1970, 241 ff.
32. Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958, 253-4.
33. Ibid., 254.
34. The directors of the Institute of Marxism-Leninism in Berlin even managed to exclude the Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 from the numbered volumes of the canonical Marx-Engels Werke, relegating them to a supplementary volume with a smaller print run.
35. Adam Schaff, Alienation as a Social Phenomenon, Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1980, 100.
36. Cf. Daniel Bell, ‘The Rediscovery of Alienation: Some notes along the quest for the historical Marx’, Journal of Philosophy, vol. LVI, 24 (November 1959), 933-52, which concludes: ‘while one may be sympathetic to the idea of alienation, it is only further myth-making to read this concept back as the central theme of Marx’, 935.
37. Henri Lefebvre, Critique of Everyday Life, London: Verso, 1991, 53.
38. Lucien Goldmann, Recherches dialectiques, Paris: Gallimard, 1959, 101.
39. Thus Richard Schacht (Alienation, Garden City: Doubleday, 1970) noted that ‘there is almost no aspect of contemporary life which has not been discussed in terms of “alienation”’ (lix); while Peter C. Ludz (‘Alienation as a Concept in the Social Sciences’, reprinted in Felix Geyer and David Schweitzer, eds., Theories of Alienation, Leiden: Martinus Nijhoff, 1976) remarked that ‘the popularity of the concept serves to increase existing terminological ambiguity’ (3).
40. Cf. David Schweitzer, ‘Alienation, De-alienation, and Change: A critical overview of current perspectives in philosophy and the social sciences’, in Giora Shoham, ed., Alienation and Anomie Revisited, Tel Aviv: Ramot, 1982, for whom ‘the very meaning of alienation is often diluted to the point of virtual meaninglessness’ (57).
41. Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle, Canberra: Hobgoblin 2002, 13.
42. Ibid., 9.
43. Ibid., 11.
44. Ibid., 12.
45. Ibid., 11.
46. Ibid., 13.
47. Jean Baudrillard, The Consumer Society, London: Sage, 1998, 191.
48. Ibid., 195-6.
49. Ibid., 196.
50. See for example John Clark, ‘Measuring alienation within a social system’, American Sociological Review, vol. 24, n. 6 (December 1959), 849-52.
51. See Schweitzer, ‘Alienation, De-alienation, and Change’ (note 40), 36-7.
52. A good example of this position is Walter Kaufman’s ‘The Inevitability of Alienation’, his introduction to Schacht’s previously quoted volume, Alienation. For Kaufman, ‘life without estrangement is scarcely worth living; what matters is to increase men’s capacity to cope with alienation’ (lvi).
53. Schacht, Alienation, 155.
54. Seymour Melman, Decision-making and Productivity, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1958, 18, 165-6.
55. Among the questions that Nettler put to a sample considered susceptible to ‘alien orientation’ were: ‘Do you enjoy TV? What do you think of the new model of American automobiles? Do you read Reader’s Digest? … Do you like to participate in church activities? Do national spectator-sports (football, baseball) interest you?’ (‘A measure of alienation’, American Sociological Review, vol. 22, no. 6 (December 1957), 675). He concluded that negative answers were evidence of alienation: ‘there seems little doubt that this scale measures a dimension of estrangement from our society.’
56. Ibid., 674. To prove his point, Nettler noted that ‘to the question, “Would you just as soon live under another form of government as under our present one?” all responded with some indication of possibility and none with rejection’ (674). He even went so far as to claim ‘that alienation is related to creativity. It is hypothesized that creative scientists and artists … are alienated individuals … that alienation is related to altruism [and] that their estrangement leads to criminal behavior’ (676-7).
57. Melvin Seeman, ‘On the Meaning of Alienation’, American Sociological Review, vol. 24, no. 6 (December 1959), 783-91. In 1972 he added a sixth type to the list: ‘cultural estrangement’. (See Melvin Seeman, ‘Alienation and Engagement’, in Angus Campbell and Philip E. Converse, eds., The Human Meaning of Social Change, New York: Russell Sage, 1972, 467-527.)
58. Robert Blauner, Alienation and Freedom, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964, 15.
59. Ibid., 3.
60. Cf. Walter R. Heinz, ‘Changes in the Methodology of Alienation Research’, in Felix Geyer and Walter R. Heinz, Alienation, Society and the Individual, New Brunswick/London: Transaction, 1992, 217.
61. See Felix Geyer and David Schweitzer, ‘Introduction’, in idem, eds., Theories of Alienation (note 39), xxi-xxii, and Felix Geyer, ‘A General Systems Approach to Psychiatric and Sociological De-alienation’, in Giora Shoham, ed. (note 40), 141.
62. See Geyer and Schweitzer, ‘Introduction’, xx-xxi.
63. David Schweitzer, ‘Fetishization of Alienation: Unpacking a Problem of Science, Knowledge, and Reified Practices in the Workplace’, in Felix Geyer, ed., Alienation, Ethnicity, and Postmodernism, Westport, Connecticut/London: Greenwood Press, 1996, 23.
64. Cf. John Horton, ‘The Dehumanization of Anomie and Alienation: a problem in the ideology of sociology’, The British Journal of Sociology, vol. XV, no. 4 (1964), 283-300, and David Schweitzer, ‘Fetishization of Alienation’, 23.
65. See Horton, ‘Dehumanization’. This thesis is proudly championed by Irving Louis Horowitz in ‘The Strange Career of Alienation: how a concept is transformed without permission of its founders’, in Felix Geyer, ed. (note 63), 17-19. According to Horowitz, ‘alienation is now part of the tradition in the social sciences rather than social protest. This change came about with a broadening realization that terms like being alienated are no more and no less value-laden than being integrated.’ The concept of alienation thus ‘became enveloped with notions of the human condition – … a positive rather than a negative force. Rather than view alienation as framed by “estrangement” from a human being’s essential nature as a result of a cruel set of industrial-capitalist demands, alienation becomes an inalienable right, a source of creative energy for some and an expression of personal eccentricity for others’ (18).
66. Karl Marx, ‘Wage Labour and Capital’, in Marx-Engels Collected Works, vol. 9, New York: International Publishers, 1977, 202.
67. Ibid., 203.
68. The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, Revelations concerning the Communist Trial in Cologne and Revelations of the Diplomatic History of the Eighteenth Century.
69. Karl Marx, Grundrisse, London: Penguin, 1993, 157. In another passage on alienation (158), we read: ‘Rob the thing of this social power and you must give it to persons to exercise over persons.’
70. Ibid., 461-2.
71. Karl Marx, ‘Results of the Immediate Process of Production’, in idem, Capital, Volume 1, London: Penguin, 1976, 990.
72. Ibid., 1058.
73. Ibid., 1054.
74. Ibid., 1005-6 (emphasis in the original).
75. Ibid., 1007.
76. Ibid., 1054 (emphasis in the original)
77. Ibid., 1056.
78. Karl Marx, Capital,Volume 1, 166.
79. Ibid., 164-5.
80. Cf. Schaff, Alienation as a Social Phenomenon, 81.
81. Capital, Volume 1, 171.
82. Karl Marx, Capital, Volume 3, London: Penguin, 1981, 959.
83. For reasons of space, a consideration of the unfinished and partly contradictory nature of Marx’s sketch of a non-alienated society will have to be left to a future study.

Categories
Journal Articles

Introduction

Returns to Marx
Owing to theoretical disputes or political events, interest in Marx’s work has fluctuated over time and has gone through indisputable periods of decline. From the early 20th-century ‘crisis of Marxism’ in Italy and France to the dissolution of the Second International; from debates over the contradictions of Marx’s economic theory to the tragedy of Soviet communism, criticism of the ideas of Marx seemed persistently to point beyond the conceptual horizon of Marxism. Yet there has always been a ‘return to Marx’.

A new need develops to refer to his work – whether the critique of political economy, the formulations on alienation, or the brilliant pages of political polemic – and it has continued to exercise an irresistible fascination to both followers and opponents. Pronounced dead at the end of the 20th century, Marx has now suddenly reappeared on the stage of history: there is a rekindling of interest in his thought, and the dust is ever more frequently brushed off his books in the libraries of Europe, America and Asia.

The rediscovery of Marx is based on his continuing capacity to explain the present; indeed, his thought remains an indispensable instrument with which to understand and transform it. In face of the crisis of capitalist society and the profound contradictions that traverse it, this author who was overhastily dismissed after 1989 is once more being taken up and interrogated. Thus, Jacques Derrida’s assertion that ‘it will always be a mistake not to read and reread and discuss Marx’ [1] – which only a few years ago seemed an isolated provocation – has found increasing approval. Since the late 1990s, newspapers, periodicals and TV or radio programs have repeatedly discussed Marx as being the most relevant thinker for our times. The first article of this kind that had a certain resonance was ‘The Return of Karl Marx’, published in The New Yorker. [2] Then it was the turn of the BBC, which cited Marx as the greatest thinker of the millennium. A few years later, the weekly Nouvel Observateur devoted a whole issue to the theme Karl Marx – le penseur du troisième millénaire? (thinker of the third millennium?). [3] Soon after, Germany paid its tribute to the man it once forced into a 40-year exile: in 2004, more than 500,000 viewers of the national television station ZDF voted Marx the third most important German personality of all time (he was first in the category of ‘contemporary relevance’), and during the national elections of 2005 the mass-circulation magazine Der Spiegel carried his image on the cover, giving the victory sign, under the titleEin Gespenst kehrt zurück (A spectre is back). [4] Completing this curious collection, a poll conducted in 2005 by the radio station BBC4 gave Marx the accolade of the philosopher most admired by its listeners.

Furthermore, the literature dealing with Marx, which all but dried up 15 years ago, is showing signs of revival in many countries, both in the form of new studies and in booklets in various languages with titles such as Why Read Marx Today? [5] Journals are increasingly open to contributions on Marx and Marxism, just as there are now many international conferences, university courses and seminars on the theme. Finally, although timid and often confused in form, a new demand for Marx is also making itself felt in politics – from Latin America to Europe, passing through the alternative globalization movement. In particular, since the onset of the international economic crisis in mid-2007, academics and economic theorists from various political and cultural backgrounds have again been drawn to Marx’s analysis of the inherent instability of capitalism, whose self-generated cyclical crises have grave effects on political and social life. In all parts of the world, leading daily and weekly papers have been discussing the contemporary relevance of Marx’s thought.

In this context of what some commentators have described as a ‘Marx renaissance’, the aim of the present special issue of Socialism and Democracy is to make a close study of Marx’s principal writings in relation to some of the major problems of our own time, and to show how and why some of his theories constitute a precious tool for the understanding and critique of the 21st-century world.

Marx and the analysis of contemporary capitalism
Of course, the writings that Marx composed a century and a half ago do not contain a precise description of the world today. It should be stressed, however, that the focus of Capital was not on 19th-century capitalism either, but rather – as he put it in the third volume of this work, his magnum opus – on the ‘organization of the capitalist mode of production, in its ideal average’, and hence in its most complete and most general form. When he was writing Capital , capitalism had developed only in England and a few other European industrial centres. Yet he foresaw that it would expand on a global scale, and formulated his theories on that basis. This is why Capital is not only a great classic of economic and political thought, but still provides today, despite all the profound transformations that have intervened, a rich array of tools with which to understand the nature of capitalist development.

The truth of this has been all the more apparent since the collapse of the Soviet Union and the spread of the capitalist mode of production to new areas of the planet like China. Capitalism has become a truly worldwide system, and some of Marx’s analyses – not others, of course, which gave rise to mistaken predictions – have revealed their significance even more clearly than in his own time. [6] As this geographical expansion has taken place, the internal contradictions of capitalism have asserted themselves with greater stringency. Marx has probed the logic of the system more deeply than has any other modern political thinker. If his analysis is updated and applied to the most recent developments, it can help explain many problems that did not manifest themselves fully until the 20th century. One thinks, for instance, of the role of finance in capitalist accumulation – a widely debated issue today, which Marx already made the object of a penetrating analysis.

Themes and objectives of this issue
Despite the new interest in Marx, few recent studies of his ideas have gone beyond generic formulas – such as ‘Marx, the prophet of capitalist globalization’ – to discuss in a theoretically effective, textually rigorous manner the ways in which a rereading of his work can help to explain the political, economic and social phenomena of today. The present collection attempts to address this task, without adopting an apologetic approach to Marx’s work or indeed neglecting to demonstrate some of its contradictions. The aim is to bring together varied reflections on the Marxian oeuvre, drawing on different perspectives and fields.

Marx’s analysis of capitalism was not merely an economic investigation but was also relevant to the understanding of power structures and social relations. With the extension of capitalism into most aspects of human life, Marx’s thought turns out to have been extraordinarily prescient in many fields not addressed by 20th-century orthodox Marxism. One of these is certainly the transformations brought about by so-called economic globalization; others that we address in this collection encompass the full complexity of present-day politics, including issues of ethnicity, nationalism, freedom and democracy. In each dimension, we see how Marx even today has an invaluable contribution to make. The essays in the second part of this collection show how these varying insights have emerged in a wide range of national settings.

Why Marx again?
After years of postmodern manifestos, solemn talk of the ‘end of history’ and infatuation with vacuous ‘biopolitical’ ideas, the value of Marx’s theories is again becoming more and more widely recognized.

What remains of Marx today? How useful is his thought to the workers’ struggle for freedom? What part of his work is most fertile for stimulating the critique of our times? These are some of the questions that receive widely varying answers. If the contemporary Marx renaissance has a certainty, it lies in a rejection of the orthodoxies that have dominated and profoundly conditioned the interpretation of this philosopher. Even though marked by evident limits and the risk of syncretism, a period has arrived that is characterized by many theoretical incarnations of Marx. After the age of dogmatisms, perhapsit could not have happened in any other way. The task of responding to this new situation is therefore up to the research, theoretical and practical, of an emerging generation of scholars and political activists.

Among the “Marxes” that remain indispensable, at least two can be identified. One is the critic of the capitalist mode of production: the tireless researcher who intuited and analysed this development on a global scale and described bourgeois society better than anyone else. This is the thinker who refused to conceive of capitalism and the regime of private property as immutable scenarios intrinsic to human nature and who still offers crucial suggestions to those who want to realize alternatives to capitalism. The other Marx to whom great attention should be paid, is the theoretician of socialism: the author who repudiated the idea of state socialism, already propagated in his time by Lassalle and Rodbertus; the thinker who understood socialism as the possible complete transformation of productive and social relations, and not as a set of bland palliatives for the problems of capitalist society.

Without Marx we will be condemned to a critical aphasia. The cause of human emancipation will therefore continue to need him. His ‘spectre’ is destined to haunt the world and shake humanity for a good while to come.

 

References
1. Jacques Derrida, Specters of Marx, London: Routledge, 1994, 13.
2. John Cassidy, ‘The Return of Karl Marx’, The New Yorker, October 20/27 1997, 248-59.
3. Le Nouvel Observateur , October/November 2003.
4. Der Spiegel , 22 August 2005.
5. One of the most significant examples of this new interest in Marx’s writings is the continuation of the Marx-Engels-Gesamtausgabe (MEGA 2), the historico-critical edition of his complete works, which resumed in 1998 after the interruption that followed the collapse of the socialist countries. See Marcello Musto, ‘The rediscovery of Karl Marx’, International Review of Social History, 2007, no. 52/3, 477-98.
6. See Ellen Meiksins Wood, Democracy against capitalism, London: Cambridge University Press, 1995.

Categories
Journal Articles

The Formation of Marx’s Critique of Political Economy

I. Introduction
Despite the predictions that consigned it to eternal oblivion, Marx’s work has returned to the historical stage in recent years and a number of his texts have reappeared on bookshop shelves in many parts of the world. The rediscovery of Marx is based on the explanatory capacity still present in his writings. Faced with a new and deep crisis of capitalism, many are again looking to an author who in the past was often wrongly associated with the Soviet Union, and who was too hastily dismissed after 1989.

This renewed political focus was preceded by a revival of historical studies of his work. After the waning of interest in the 1980s, and the “conspiracy of silence” in the 1990s, new or republished editions of his work became available almost everywhere (except in Russia and Eastern Europe, where the disasters of “actually existing socialism” are still too recent for a Marx revival to be on the cards), and these have produced important and innovative results in many of the fields in which they blossomed.[1]

Of particular significance for an exhaustive reinterpretation is the Marx-Engels-Gesamtausgabe (MEGA²), the critical historical edition of the complete works of Marx and Engels, which resumed serial publication in 1998.[2] This brought into print Marx’s books of excerpts and all his preparatory manuscripts for the second and third volumes of Capital. The former include not only material from the books he read but also the reflections they stimulated in him; they reveal the workshop of his critical theory, the whole trajectory of his thought, the sources on which he drew in developing his own ideas. The publication of all the Capital manuscripts, and all the editorial revisions made by Engels,[3] will enable a reliable critical evaluation to be made of the state of Marx’s originals and the extent of Engels’s input into the published editions of Volumes Two and Three. For these texts reveal the unfinished state of Marx’s magnum opus and will serve as the basis for any future rigorous study of it.

Using this new research material, the present work aims to reconstruct all the stages of Marx’s critique of political economy in the light of the philological acquisitions of MEGA², and hence to offer a more exhaustive account of the formation of Marx’s thought than those that were made in the past. In fact, the great majority of researchers in this area have considered only certain periods in Marx’s development, often jumping straight from the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844][4] to the [Grundrisse] (1857-58) and from there to the first volume of Capital (1867), or, at best, examining only two other texts: The Poverty of Philosophy (1847) and [Theories of Surplus Value] (1862-63).[5]

The study of priceless manuscripts, and of interesting interim results, has remained the preserve of a narrow circle of scholars capable of reading the German-language volumes of MEGA². Thus, in order to make these texts known more widely, and to revive debate, in the light of the new material, on the genesis and unfinished character of Marx’s work,[6] the present study has been divided into two parts. The first, corresponding to the article presented here, examines Marx’s research on political economy and some of his theoretical breakthroughs in this field, from the early studies of 1843 to the composition of the [Grundrisse] (1857-58), the bulky preparatory manuscripts for the short work entitled A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy (1859) that is generally regarded as the first draft of Capital. The second article, to be published in the near future, will look at the making of Capital through the various drafts, from the [Grundrisse] to the final manuscripts of 1882 before Marx’s death.

The present article first seeks to reconstruct the studies in political economy that Marx conducted in Paris, Manchester and Brussels between 1843 and 1847, which culminated in the publication of The Poverty of Philosophy (§ II and III), and to consider Marx’s political and personal fortunes during the revolutions of 1848 and the first period of his subsequent exile in London (§ IV and V). During this time, he wrote on political economy for the two journals he founded and directed: from 1848 to 1849 the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Organ der Demokratie, and in 1850 the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Politisch-ökonomische Revue. The conviction gradually formed in him that a new revolution could develop only in the wake of a world economic crisis. Section VI focuses on the 26 notebooks of excerpts that he compiled from 1850 to 1853, known as the [London Notebooks] . These bear the traces of his immersion in dozens of works of political economy, and they make it possible to reconstruct an important phase in Marx’s thought that few interpreters have investigated until now.

Finally, after a discussion of the trial of Communists in 1853 (§ VII) – a significant event that Marx spent much energy combating – Sections VIII and IX review the development of his position in the articles he wrote for the New York Tribune on the possibility of an economic crisis in the 1850s. The outbreak of such a crisis eventually coincided with his initial work on the [Grundrisse], in which he dealt with the money-value relationship and the process of the production and circulation of capital, introduced the concept of surplus-value for the first time, and critically reworked the profound studies of political economy that had absorbed him in the preceding years. A table, printed as an appendix, sets out the chronological order of the notebooks of excerpts, the manuscripts and the works on political economy from the 1843-1858 period.

II. The Encounter with Political Economy
Political economy was not Karl Marx’s first intellectual passion: it was only just emerging as a discipline in Germany during his youth, and he encountered it only after various other subjects. Born in Trier in 1818, to a family of Jewish origin, he began by studying law in 1835 at the universities of Bonn and Berlin, then switched to philosophy (especially the dominant Hegelianism) and graduated from Jena University in 1841 with a thesis on The Difference Between the Democritean and Epicurean Philosophy of Nature. He would then have liked to take up an academic career, but Hegel’s philosophy fell out of official favour when Friedrich Wilhelm IV came to the throne in Prussia, and Marx, having been a member of the Young Hegelians, was obliged to change his plans. Between 1842 and 1843 he devoted himself to journalism, covering current affairs, and worked on the Rheinische Zeitung, the Cologne daily paper, of which he soon became the very youthful chief editor. However, shortly after he took on the position and began to publish articles of his own on economic questions (albeit only legal and political aspects), [7] the censorship struck at the paper and caused him to end the experience, ‘to withdraw from the public stage to my study’.[8] So he continued his studies of the state and legal relations, in which Hegel was a leading authority, and in 1843 wrote the manuscript that was posthumously published as [A Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right]. Having developed the conviction that civil society was the real foundation of the political state, he here set out his earliest views on the importance of the economic factors in the accounting for the totality of social relations.

Marx embarked on ‘a conscientious critical study of political economy'[9] only after he moved to Paris, where in 1844 he founded and jointly edited the Deutsch–französische Jahrbücher. [10] From that moment his own enquiries, which had previously been of a mainly philosophical, historical and political character, turned to the new discipline that would be the fulcrum of his future research. He did a huge amount of reading in Paris, filling nine books of notes and extracts. In fact, he had acquired at university the lifelong habit of compiling summaries of works, often interspersed with reflections that they suggested to him.[11] The so-called [Paris Manuscripts] are especially interesting for their lengthy compendia from Jean-Baptiste Say’s Traité d’économie politique and Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations,[12] from which Marx acquired his basic knowledge of political economy, and David Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation and James Mill’s Elements of Political Economy, [13] which enabled him to make his first appraisals of the concepts of value and price and to launch a critique of money as the domination of estranged things over man.

In parallel with these studies, Marx wrote another three notebooks that were posthumously published as [Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844][14], in which he devoted special attention to the concept of alienated labour (entäusserte Arbeit). Contrary to the major economists and G.W. F. Hegel, this phenomenon, through which the worker’s product stands opposed to him ‘as something alien, as a power independent of the producer'[15], is not considered to be a natural, hence immutable, condition, but to be characteristic of a particular structure of social production relations: the modern bourgeois society and wage labour.

Some of Marx’s visitors attested to his intense work during this period. The radical journalist Heinrich Bürgers said of him in late 1844: ‘Marx had begun profound investigations in the field of political economy and nurtured the project of writing a critical work that would refound economic science.’ [16] Friedrich Engels, too, who first met Marx in the summer of 1844 and forged a friendship and theoretical-political solidarity with him that would last the rest of their lives, was driven by hopes of an imminent social upheaval to urge Marx in the first letter of their forty-year correspondence to publish as quickly as possible: ‘See to it that the material you’ve collected is soon launched into the world. It’s high time, heaven knows!’ [17] Marx’s sense of the inadequacy of his knowledge held him back from completing and publishing the manuscripts. But he did write, together with Engels,[18] The Holy Family, or Critique of Critical Criticism: Against Bruno Bauer and Company, a polemical broadside against Bauer and other figures in the Left Hegelian movement from which Marx had distanced himself in 1842, on grounds that it operated in speculative isolation and was geared exclusively to sterile conceptual battles.

With this behind them, Engels wrote again in early 1845 urging his friend to complete the work in preparation:

Do try and finish your political economy book, even if there’s much in it that you yourself are still dissatisfied with, it doesn’t really matter; minds are ripe and we must strike while the iron is hot. … now it is high time. So try and finish before April, do as I do, set a date by which you will definitely have finished, and make sure it gets into print quickly.[19]

But these entreaties were of little avail. Marx still felt the need to continue his studies before trying to give a finished form to the drafts he had written. In any event, he was sustained by the conviction that he would soon be able to publish, and on 1 February 1845 – after he had been ordered to leave France because of his collaboration with the German-language workers’ bi-weekly Vorwärts! – he signed a contract with the Darmstadt publisher Karl Wilhelm Leske for a two-volume work to be entitled ‘Critique of Politics and Political Economy’. [20]

III. Continuing the Study of Economics
In February 1845 Marx moved to Brussels, where he was allowed residence on condition that he ‘did not publish anything on current politics’, [21] and where he remained until March 1848 with his wife Jenny von Westphalen and their first daughter Jenny, born in Paris in 1844. During these three years, and particularly in 1845, he pressed on fruitfully with his studies of political economy. In March 1845 he worked on a critique – which he never managed to complete – of the German economist Friedrich List’s book on the ‘national system of political economy’.[22] Between February and July, moreover, he filled six notebooks with extracts, the so-called[Brussels Notebooks], which mainly concern the basic concepts of political economy, with special attention to Sismonde de Sismondi’s Études sur l’économie politique, Henri Storch’s Cours d’économie politique and Pellegrino Rossi’s Cours d’Économie politique. At the same time, Marx delved into questions associated with machinery and large-scale industry, copying out a number of pages from Economy of Machinery and Manufacturers by Charles Babbage.[23] He was also planning with Engels to organize the German translation of a ‘library of the best foreign socialist writers’.[24] But, being short of time and unable to secure funding from a publisher, the two had to abandon the project and concentrated instead on their own work.

Marx spent July and August in Manchester examining the vast English-language economic literature – an essential task for the book he had in mind. He compiled another nine books of extracts, the [Manchester Notebooks], and again the ones that featured most were manuals of political economy and books on economic history, such as Lectures on the Elements of Political Economy by Thomas Cooper,History of Prices and of the State of Circulation by Thomas Tooke, The Literature of Political Economy by John Ramsay McCulloch and Essays on Some Unsettled Problems of Political Economy by John Stuart Mill.[25] Marx also took great interest in social questions and gathered extracts from some of the main volumes of English-language socialist literature, particularlyLabour’s Wrongs and Labour’s Remedy by John Francis Bray and Essay on the Formation of Human Characterand Book of the New Moral World by Robert Owen.[26] Similar arguments were put forward in Friedrich Engels’s first work, The Condition of the Working Class in England, which was actually published in June 1845.
In the Belgian capital, in addition to his economic studies, Marx worked on another project that he considered necessary, given the political circumstances.

In November 1845 he conceived the idea of writing, along with Engels, Joseph Weydemeyer and Moses Hess, a ‘critique of modern German philosophy as expounded by its representatives Feuerbach, Bruno Bauer and Stirner, and of German socialism as expounded by its various prophets’. [27] The resulting text, posthumously published under the title [The German Ideology], had a dual aim: to combat the latest forms of neo-Hegelianism in Germany (Max Stirner’s The Ego and His Own had come out in October 1844), and then, as Marx wrote to the publisher Leske, ‘to prepare the public for the viewpoint adopted in my Economy (Oekonomie), which is diametrically opposed to German scholarship past and present’.[28] This text, on which he worked right up to June 1846, was never completed, but it helped him to elaborate more clearly than before, though still not in a definitive form, what Engels defined for the wider public forty years later as ‘the materialist conception of history’.[29]

To track the progress of the ‘Economy’ in 1846, it is again necessary to look at Marx’s letters to Leske. In August he informed the publisher that ‘the all but completed manuscript of the first volume’ had been available ‘for so long’, but that he would not ‘have it published without revising it yet again, both as regards matter and style. It goes without saying that a writer who works continuously cannot, at the end of 6 months, publish word for word what he wrote 6 months earlier.’ Nevertheless, he undertook to wrap the book up in the near future: ‘The revised version of the first volume will he ready for publication at the end of November. The 2nd volume, of a more historical nature, will be able to follow soon after it.’ [30] But these reports did not correspond to the real state of his labours, since none of his manuscripts could have been defined as ‘all but completed’; when the publisher had still not received even one by the beginning of 1847, so he decided to revoke the contract.

These constant delays should not be attributed to any lack of zeal on Marx’s part. He never gave up political activity during those years, and in the spring of 1846 he promoted the work of the ‘Communist Correspondence Committee’, whose mission was to organize a link-up among the various labour leagues in Europe. Yet theoretical work always remained his priority, as may be seen from the testimony of those who regularly visited him. The German poet Georg Weerth, for instance, wrote in November 1846:

Marx is regarded in a sense as the head of the communist party. Many self-styled communists and socialists would be astonished, however, if they knew just how much this man actually does. Marx works day and night to clear the minds of the workers of America, France, Germany, etc. of the peculiar systems that obscure them. … He works like a madman on his history of political economy. For many years this man has not slept more than four hours a night. [31]

Marx’s own study notes and published writings are further proof of his diligence. Between autumn 1846 and September 1847 he filled three large books of extracts, mainly relating to economic history, from the Geschichtliche Darstellung des Handels, der Gewerbe und des Ackerbaus der bedeutendsten handeltreibenden Staaten unsrer Zeit by Gustav von Gülich, one of the leading German economists of the day.[32] In December 1846, having read Pierre-Joseph Proudhon’s Système des contradictions économiques ou Philosophie de la misère and found it ‘very poor’,[33] Marx decided to write a critique. He did this directly in French, so that his opponent – who did not read German – would be able to understand it; the text was completed in April 1847 and published in July as Misère de la philosophie: Réponse à la Philosophie de la misère de M. Proudhon . It was Marx’s first published writing on political economy, which set out his ideas on the theory of value, the proper methodological approach to an understanding of social reality, and the historically transient character of modes of production.

The failure to complete the planned book – a critique of political economy – was not therefore due to lack of application on Marx’s part, but rather to the difficulty of the task he had taken on. The subject matter for critical examination was so vast that it would take many more years to address it with his characteristic seriousness and critical conscience. In the late 1840s, even though he was not aware of it, Marx was still only at the beginning of his exertions.

IV. 1848 and the Outbreak of Revolution
As the social ferment intensified in the second half of 1847, Marx’s political involvement became more time-consuming. In June the Communist League, an association of German workers and artisans with international branches, was founded in London; in August Marx and Engels established a German Workers’ Association in Brussels; and in November Marx became vice-president of the Brussels Democratic Association, which incorporated a revolutionary wing as well as a more moderate democratic component. At the end of the year, the Communist League gave Marx and Engels the job of writing a political programme, and shortly afterwards, in February 1848, this was sent to press as the Manifesto of the Communist Party . Its opening words – ‘A spectre is haunting Europe, the spectre of communism’ – were destined to become famous throughout the world. So too was one of its essential theses: ‘The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.'[34]

The publication of the Manifesto could not have been more timely. Immediately afterwards, a revolutionary movement of unprecedented scope and intensity plunged the political and social order of continental Europe into crisis. The governments in place took all possible counter-measures to put an end to the insurrections, and in March 1848 Marx was expelled from Belgium to France, where a republic had just been proclaimed. He now naturally set aside his studies of political economy and took up journalistic activity in support of the revolution, helping to chart a recommended political course. In April he moved to the Rhineland, economically the most developed and politically the most liberal region in Germany, and in June he began editing the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Organ der Demokratie that had meanwhile been founded in Cologne. Although his own articles were mostly chronicles of political events, in April 1849 he published a series of editorials on the critique of political economy, since he thought that the time had come ‘to deal more closely with the relations themselves on which the existence of the bourgeoisie and its class rule, as well as the slavery of the workers, are founded’.[35] Five articles based on lectures he had given in December 1847 to the German Workers’ Association in Brussels appeared under the title Wage Labour and Capital, in which Marx presented to the public, more extensively than in the past and in a language as intelligible as possible to workers, his conception of how wage labour was exploited by capital.

The revolutionary movement that rose up throughout Europe in 1848 was however defeated within a short space of time. Among the reasons for the authoritarian conservative victory were: the recovery of the economy; the weakness of the working class, which in some countries scarcely had an organized structure; and the withdrawal of middle classes support for reforms, as they drew closer to the aristocracy in order to prevent a lurch towards excessive radicalism. All this allowed reactionary political forces to regain a firm grip on the reins of government.

After a period of intense political activity, in May 1848 Marx received an expulsion order from Prussia too and set off again for France. But when the revolution was defeated in Paris, the authorities ordered him to move to Morbihan, then a desolate, malaria-infested region of Brittany. Faced with this ‘veiled attempt on my life’, he decided to leave France for London, where he thought that there was ‘a positive prospect of being able to start a German newspaper’.[36] He would remain in England, an exile and stateless person, for the whole of the rest of his life, but European reaction could not have confined him in a better place to write his critique of political economy. At that time, London was the world’s leading economic and financial centre, the ‘demiurge of the bourgeois cosmos’,[37] and therefore the most favourable location from which to observe the latest economic developments and to resume his studies of capitalist society.

V. In London waiting for the crisis
Marx reached England in summer 1849 at the age of thirty-one. His life in the capital city was far from tranquil. The Marx family, numbering six with the birth of Laura in 1845, Edgar in 1847 and Guido soon after their arrival in 1849, had to live for a long time in great poverty in Soho, one of London’s poorest and most run-down districts. In addition to family problems, Marx was involved in a relief committee for German émigrés, which he sponsored through the Communist League, and whose mission was to assist the numerous political refugees in London.

Despite the adverse conditions, Marx managed to achieve his aim of starting a new publishing venture. In March 1850 he ran the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Politisch-okonomische Revue, a monthly that he planned as the locus for ‘comprehensive and scientific investigation of the economic conditions which form the foundation of the whole political movement’. He believed that ‘a time of apparent calm such as the present must be employed precisely for the purpose of elucidating the period of revolution just experienced, the character of the conflicting parties, and the social conditions which determine the existence and the struggle of these parties’.[38]

Marx was convinced, wrongly, that the situation would prove to be a brief interlude between the revolution concluded shortly before and another one lying just ahead. In December 1849 he wrote to his friend Weydemeyer: ‘I have little doubt that by the time three, or maybe two, monthly issues [of the Neue Rheinische Zeitung – MM] have appeared, a world conflagration will intervene and the opportunity of temporarily finishing with political economy will be gone.’ A ‘mighty industrial, agricultural and commercial crisis’ was surely imminent,[39] and he took it for granted that a new revolutionary movement would emerge – though only after the outbreak of the crisis, since industrial and commercial prosperity weakened the resolve of the proletarian masses. Subsequently, in The Class Struggles in France, which appeared as a series of articles in the Neue Rheinische Zeitung, he asserted that ‘a real revolution … is only possible in periods when … the modern forces of production and the bourgeois forms of production come in collision with each other. …A new revolution is possible only in consequence of a new crisis. It is, however, just as certain as this crisis.’ [40] Marx did not change his view even as economic prosperity began to spread, and in the first ( January-February) issue of the Neue Rheinische Zeitung he wrote that the upturn would not last long because the markets of the East Indies were ‘already almost saturated’ and those of North and South America and Australia would soon be, too.

Hence:

with the first news of this glut‘panic’ will break out simultaneously in speculation and production simultaneously – perhaps as soon as towards the end of spring, in July or August at the latest. This crisis, however, since it is bound to coincide with great collisions on the Continent, will bring forth results quite different from those of all previous crises. Whereas every crisis hitherto has been the signal for a new advance, a new victory of the industrial bourgeoisie over landed property and the finance bourgeoisie, this crisis will mark the beginning of the modern English revolution.[41]

In the next issue, too, dated March-April 1850, Marx argued that the positive economic conjuncture represented no more than a temporary improvement, while overproduction and the excesses of speculation in the state railways sector were bringing on a crisis whose effects would be:

more significant than those of any crisis hitherto. It coincides with the agricultural crisis… . This double crisis in England is being hastened and extended, and made more inflammable by the simultaneously impending convulsions on the Continent; and the continental revolutions will assume an incomparably more pronounced socialist character through the recoil of the English crisis on the world market. [42]

Marx’s scenario, then, was very optimistic for the cause of the workers’ movement and took in both the European and the North American markets. In his view, ‘following the entry of America into the recession brought about by overproduction, we may expect the crisis to develop rather more rapidly in the coming month than hitherto’. His conclusion was therefore enthusiastic: ‘The coincidence of trade crisis and revolution … is becoming more and more certain. Que les destins s’accomplissent!'[43]

During the summer Marx deepened his economic analysis begun before 1848, and in the May-October 1850 issue of the review – the last before lack of funds and Prussian police harassment forced its closure – he reached the important conclusion that ‘the commercial crisis contributed infinitely more to the revolutions of 1848 than the revolution to the commercial crisis’.[44] Through these new studies, economic crisis would from now on be fundamental to his thought, not only economically but also sociologically and politically. Moreover, in analysing the processes of rampant speculation and overproduction, he ventured to predict that, ‘if the new cycle of industrial development which began in 1848 follows the same course as that of 1843-47, the crisis would break out in 1852’. The future crisis, he stressed, would also erupt in the countryside, and ‘for the first time the industrial and commercial crisis [would] coincide with a crisis in agriculture’.[45]

Marx’s forecasts over this period of more than a year proved to be mistaken. Yet, even at moments when he was most convinced that a revolutionary wave was imminent, his ideas were very different from those of other European political leaders exiled in London. Although he was wrong about how the economic situation would shape up, he considered it indispensable to study the current state of economic and political relations for the purposes of political activity. By contrast, most of the democratic and communist leaders of the time, whom he characterized as ‘alchemists of the revolution’, thought that the only prerequisite for a victorious revolution was ‘adequate preparation of their conspiracy’.[46] One example of this was the manifesto ‘To the Nations’, issued by the ‘European Democratic Central Committee’, which Giuseppe Mazzini, Alexandre Ledru-Rollin and Arnold Ruge had founded in London in 1850. According to Marx, this group were implying ‘that the revolution failed because of the ambition and jealousy of the individual leaders and the mutually hostile views of the various popular educators’. Also ‘stupefying’ was the way in which these leaders conceived of ‘social organization’: ‘a mass gathering in the streets, a riot, a hand-clasp, and it’s all over. In their view indeed revolution consists merely in the overthrow of the existing government; once this aim has been achieved, “the victory” has been won.’ [47]

Unlike those who expected another revolution to appear out of the blue, by the autumn of 1850 Marx was convinced that one could not ripen without a new world economic crisis. From then on, he distanced himself from false hopes in an imminent revolution[48] and lived ‘in complete retirement’.[49] This is confirmed by the testimony of Wilhelm Pieper, a member of the Communist League, who wrote in January 1851 that ‘Marx leads a very retired life’ and added ironically: ‘his only friends [are] John Stuart Mill and Loyd, and whenever one goes to see him one is welcomed with economic categories in lieu of greetings.'[50] In the following years, Marx did indeed see very few friends in London, and he kept in close touch only with Engels, who had meanwhile settled in Manchester. In February 1851 Marx wrote to Engels: ‘I am greatly pleased by the public, authentic isolation in which we two, you and I, now find ourselves. It is wholly in accord with our attitude and our principles.'[51] Engels, for his part, replied: ‘This is the position we can and must adopt on the next occasion: … merciless criticism of everyone.’ The ‘main thing’ was ‘to find some way of getting our things published; either in a quarterly in which we make a frontal attack and consolidate our position so far as persons are concerned, or in fat books’. In short, he concluded with a certain optimism, ‘what price all the tittle-tattle the entire émigré crowd can muster against you, when you answer it with your political economy?'[52] The challenge thus became one of predicting the outbreak of crisis. For Marx, who now had an additional political motive, the time had come again to devote himself entirely to the study of political economy.

VI. The research notes of 1850-53
During the three years when Marx had interrupted his study of political economy, there were a succession of economic events – from the crisis of 1847 to the discovery of gold in California and Australia – which he thought so important that he had to undertake further research, as well as to look back over his old notes and try to give them a finished form.[53] His further reading was synthesized in 26 books of extracts, 24 of which (also containing texts from other disciplines) he compiled between September 1850 and August 1853 and numbered among the so-called [London Notebooks]. This study material is extremely interesting, as it documents a period of significant development in Marx’s critique, when he not only summarized knowledge that he had already gained but, by studying dozens of new (especially English-language) books in depth at the British Museum library, he was also acquiring other important ideas for the work that he was intending to write[54].

The [London Notebooks] may be divided into three groups. In the first seven notebooks (I-VII), written between September 1850 and March 1851, some of the numerous works that Marx read and excerpted were: A History of Prices by Thomas Tooke, A View of the Money System of England by James Taylor, Histoire de la Monnaie by Germain Garnier, the Sämtliche Schriften über Banken und Münzwesen by Johann Georg Büsch,An Enquiry into the Nature and Effects of the Paper Credit of Great Britain by Henry Thornton, and The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith. [55] Marx concentrated, in particular, on the history and theories of economic crises, paying close attention to the money-form and credit in his attempt to understand their origins. Unlike other socialists of the time such as Proudhon – who were convinced that economic crises could be avoided through a reform of the money and credit system – Marx came to the conclusion that, since the credit system was one of the underlying conditions, crises could at most be aggravated or mitigated by the correct or incorrect use of monetary circulation; the true causes of crises were to be sought, rather, in the contradictions of production.[56]

At the end of this first group of extracts, Marx summed up his own knowledge in two notebooks that he did not number as part of the main series and were entitled [Bullion: the Perfect Monetary System].[57] In this manuscript, which he wrote in the spring of 1851, Marx copied out from the main works of political economy – sometimes accompanying them with comments of his own – what he regarded as the most important passages on the theory of money. Divided into ninety-one sections, one for each book under consideration, [Bullion] was not merely a collection of quotations but may be thought of as Marx’s first autonomous formulation of the theory of money and circulation, [58] to be used in the writing of the book that he had been planning for many years.

In this same period, although Marx had to face terrible personal moments (especially around the death of his son Guido in 1850), and although his economic circumstances were so serious that he was forced to put out to nurse his last daughter Franziska, born in March 1851, he not only managed to pursue his own work but remained hopeful that it would soon be concluded. On 2 April 1851 he wrote to Engels:

I am so far advanced that I will have finished with all this economic crap in five weeks’ time. Et cela fait I shall complete the Economy at home and apply myself to another branch of learning at the [British – MM] Museum. Ça commence à m’ennuyer. Au fond, this science has made no progress since A. Smith and D. Ricardo, however much has been done in the way of individual research, often extremely discerning. … Fairly soon I shall be bringing out two volumes of sixty sheets.[59]

Engels received the news with great joy: ‘I’m glad that you’ve at long last finished with political economy. The thing has really been dragging on far too long, and so long as you have in front of you an unread book which you believe to be important, you won’t be able to settle down to writing.’ [60] But Marx’s letter reflected his optimism about the work’s completion more than it did the real state of things. Apart from all the books of excerpts, and with the exception of [Bullion], itself by no means a printer-ready draft, Marx had not yet produced a single manuscript. No doubt he had conducted his research with great intensity, but he had still not fully mastered the economic materials, and, for all his resolve and his conviction that he would eventually succeed, his scrupulousness prevented him from going beyond compendia or critical comments and finally writing his own book. Moreover, there was no publisher in the wings urging him to be more concise in his studies. The ‘Economy’ was a long way from being ready ‘fairly soon’.

So, Marx again turned to studying of the classics of political economy, and between April and November 1851 he wrote what may be seen as the second group (VIII-XVI) of the [London Notebooks]. Notebook VIII was devoted almost entirely to extracts from James Steuart’sInquiry into the Principles of Political Economy, which he had begun to study in 1847, and from Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation. The excerpts from Ricardo, in fact, compiled while he was writing [Bullion], constitute the most important part of the [London Notebooks], as numerous critical comments and personal reflections accompany them. [61] Until the end of the 1840s Marx had essentially accepted Ricardo’s theories, whereas from now on, through a new and deeper study of ground rent and value, he moved beyond them in certain respects.[62] In this way, Marx revised some of his earlier views on these fundamental questions and thus expanded the radius of his knowledge and went on to examine still more authors. Notebooks IX and X, from May-July 1851, centred on economists who had dealt with the contradictions in Ricardo’s theory, and who, on certain points, had improved on his conceptions. Thus, a large number of extracts from all these books came from:A History of the Past and Present State of the Labouring Population by John Debell Tuckett, Popular Political Economy by Thomas Hodgskin,On Political Economy by Thomas Chalmers, An Essay on the Distribution of Wealth by Richard Jones, and Principles of Political Economy by Henry Charles Carey[63].

Despite the expanded scope of his research and the accumulation of theoretical questions to be resolved, Marx remained optimistic about the completion of his writing project. In late June 1851 he wrote to the devoted Weydemeyer:

I am usually at the British Museum from 9 in the morning until 7 in the evening. The material I am working on is so damnably involved that, no matter how I exert myself, I shall not finish for another 6-8 weeks. There are, moreover, constant interruptions of a practical kind, inevitable in the wretched circumstances in which we are vegetating here. But, for all that, the thing is rapidly approaching completion. [64]

Evidently Marx thought that he could write his book within two months, drawing on the vast quantity of extracts and critical notes he had already gathered. Once again, however, not only did he fail to reach the hoped-for ‘conclusion’, he did not even manage to begin the manuscript ‘fair copy’ that was to be sent to the printers. This time the main reason for the missed deadline was his dire economic straits. Lacking a steady income, and worn out by his own physical condition, he wrote to Engels at the end of July 1851:

It is impossible to go on living like this. … I should have finished at the library long ago. But there have been too many interruptions and disturbances and at home everything’s always in a state of siege. For nights on end, I am set on edge and infuriated by floods of tears. So I cannot of course do very much.[65]

To improve his financial position, Marx decided to resume journalistic activity and looked around for a newspaper. In August 1851 he became a correspondent for the New-York Tribune, the paper with the largest circulation in the United States of America, and he wrote hundreds of pages for it during a stint that lasted until February 1862.[66] He dealt with the main political and diplomatic events of the age, as well as one economic and financial issue after another, so that within a few years he became a journalists of note.

Marx’s critical study of political economy nevertheless continued through the summer of 1851. In August, Marx read Proudhon’s Idée générale de la Révolution au XIXe siècle and entertained the project (which he later set aside) of writing a critique of it together with Engels.[67] In addition, he continued to compile extracts from his reading: Notebook XI is on texts dealing with the condition of the working class; and Notebooks XII and XIII cover his researches in agrarian chemistry. Understanding the importance of this latter discipline for the study of ground rent, he took copious notes fromDie organische Chemie in ihrer Anwendung auf Agricultur und Physiologie by Justus Liebig and Elements of Agricultural Chemistry and Geology by James F.W. Johnston. In Notebook XIV, Marx turned once more to the debate on Thomas Robert Malthus’s theory of population, especially The Principles of Population by his opponent Archibald Alison; to precapitalist modes of production, as the extracts from Adolphe Dureau de la Malle’s Économie politique des Romains and William H. Prescott’s History of the Conquest of Mexico and History of the Conquest of Peru demonstrate; and to colonialism, particularly through Herman Merivale’s Lectures on Colonization and Colonies.[68]

Finally, between September and November 1851, he extended his field of research to technology, devoting considerable space in Notebook XV to Johann H.M. Poppe’s history of technology and in Notebook XVI to miscellaneous questions of political economy.[69] As a letter to Engels from mid-October 1851 shows, Marx was then ‘in the throes of working out the Economy’, ‘delving mainly into technology, the history thereof, and agronomy’, so that he might ‘form at least some sort of an opinion of the stuff’.[70]

At the end of 1851, the Löwenthal publishing house in Frankfurt expressed an interest in Marx’s ever more extensive work. From the correspondence with Engels and Lassalle,[71] it may be inferred that Marx was then working on a project in three volumes: the first would set forth his own conception, while the second would offer a critique of other socialisms, and the third a history of political economy. At first, however, the publisher was interested only in the third volume, while retaining the option to print the others if the project proved successful. Engels tried to persuade Marx to accept the change of plan and to sign an agreement: it was necessary ‘to strike while the iron is hot’ and ‘absolutely essential to break the spell created by your prolonged absence from the German book market and, later, by funk on the part of the book dealers’ [72] – but the publisher’s interest evaporated, and nothing ever came of it all. After two months, Marx turned again to the devoted Weydemeyer in the United States of America and asked him whether it might be possible ‘to find a publisher there for [his] Economy’.[73]

Despite these obstacles on the publishing front, Marx did not lose his optimism concerning the imminence of an economic crisis. At the end of 1851 he wrote to the famous poet Ferdinand Freiligrath, an old friend of his: ‘The crisis, held in check by all kinds of factors…, must blow up at the latest next autumn. And, après les derniers événements je suis plus convaincu que jamais, qu’il n’y aura pas de révolution sérieuse sans crise commerciale.’ [74]

Meanwhile Marx got on with other work. From December 1851 to March 1852, he wrote The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, but because of the state censorship of his writings in Prussia he had to have it published in New York, in Weydemeyer’s tiny-circulation journal Die Revolution. In this connection he remarked in late 1852 to an acquaintance, Gustav Zerffi: ‘no book dealer in Germany now dares to publish anything of mine.’ [75] Between May and June 1852, he then wrote with Engels the polemical Great Men of the Exile, a gallery of caricatured portraits of leading figures in the German political emigration in London (Johann Gottfried Kinkel, Ruge, Karl Heinzen and Gustav von Struve). However, the vain search for a publisher made his efforts pointless: the manuscript was in fact given to the Hungarian János Bangya to take to Germany, but he turned out to be a police agent who, instead of delivering it to the publisher, handed it over to the authorities. The text therefore remained unpublished during the lifetime of its two authors.

From April 1852 to August 1853, Marx resumed the compilation of extracts and wrote the third and last group (XVII-XXIV) of the [London Notebooks]. [76] These mainly concern the various stages in the development of human society, much of his research having been on historical disputes about the Middle Ages and the history of literature, culture and customs. He took a particular interest in India, about which he was simultaneously writing articles for the New-York Tribune.

As this wide range of research demonstrates, Marx was by no means ‘taking a rest’. The barriers to his projects again had to do with the poverty with which he had to wrestle during those years. Despite constant support from Engels, who in 1851 began to send him five pounds sterling a month, and the income from the New-York Tribune, which paid two pounds sterling per article, Marx lived in truly desperate conditions. Not only did he have to face the loss of his daughter, Franziska, in April 1852, his daily life was becoming one long battle. In September 1852 he wrote to Engels:

For the past 8-10 days I have been feeding the family solely on bread and potatoes, but whether I shall be able to get hold of any today is doubtful. … The best and most desirable thing that could happen would be for the landlady to throw me out. Then at least I would be quit of the sum of £22 … On top of that, debts are still outstanding to the baker, the milkman, the tea chap, the greengrocer, the butcher. How am I to get out of this infernal mess? Finally … [but this was] essential if we were not to kick the bucket, I have, over the last 8-10 days, touched some German types for a few shillings and pence.[77]
All this took a heavy toll on Marx’s work and time: ‘[I] often have to waste an entire day for a shilling. I assure you that, when I consider my wife’s sufferings and my own powerlessness, I feel like consigning everything to the devil.'[78] Sometimes the situation became quite unbearable, as when he wrote to Engels in October 1852: ‘Yesterday I pawned a coat dating back to my Liverpool days in order to buy writing paper.'[79]

Yet the storms in the financial market continued to keep Marx’s morale high, and he wrote about them in letters to all his closest friends. With great self-irony, he declared to Lassalle in February 1852: ‘The financial crisis has finally reached a level comparable only to the commercial crisis now making itself felt in New York and London. Unlike the gentlemen of commerce, I cannot, alas, even have recourse to bankruptcy.’ [80] In April he told Weydemeyer that, owing to extraordinary circumstances such as the discovery of new gold deposits in California and Australia and English commercial penetration of India, ‘it may well be that the crisis will be postponed until 1853. But then its eruption will be appalling. And until that time there can be no thought of revolutionary convulsions.’ [81] And in August, immediately after the speculative collapses in the United States of America, he triumphantly wrote to Engels: ‘Is that not approaching crisis? The revolution may come sooner than we would like.’ [82]

Marx did not keep such assessments only for his correspondence but also wrote of them in the New-York Tribune. In an article of November 1852 on ‘Pauperism and Free Trade’, he predicted: ‘The crisis … will take a far more dangerous character than in 1847, when it was more commercial and monetary than industrial’, since the more surplus capital concentrates itself in industrial production, … the more extensive, the more lasting, the more direct will the crisis fall upon the working masses.'[83] In short, it might be necessary to wait a little longer, but he was convinced – more out of impatience to see a new season of social upheavals than from rigorous analysis of economic events – that sooner or later the hour of revolution would sound.

VII. The trial of the communists and personal hardships
In October 1852 the Prussian government initiated a trial of members of the Communist League who had been arrested the previous year. The charge was that they had participated in an international organization of conspirators led by Marx against the Prussian monarchy. From October to December, in order to demonstrate that the accusations were baseless, he got down ‘to work for the party against the government’s machinations’ [84] and composed Revelations Concerning the Communist Trial in Cologne. Published anonymously in Switzerland in January 1853, this short work did not have the desired effect, since a large part of the print-run was confiscated by the Prussian police and it circulated only in the United States of America among a small readership, where it first appeared in instalments in the Neu-England-Zeitung in Boston, and then as an independent booklet. Marx was understandably disheartened by this publishing failure after so many others: ‘It’s enough to put one off writing altogether. This constant toil pour le roi de Prusse!’ [85]

Contrary to the claims orchestrated by Prussian government ministers, Marx was politically very isolated during this period. The dissolution of the Communist League – having effectively taken place in 1851, then becaming official at the end of 1852 – greatly reduced the number of his political contacts. What the various police forces and political opponents defined as the ‘Marx party'[86] had very few committed supporters. In England, apart from Engels, the only men who could have been considered ‘Marxian’ [87] were Pieper, Wilhelm Wolff, Wilhelm Liebknecht, Peter Imandt, Ferdinand Wolff and Ernst Dronke. And in other countries, where most of the political exiles had taken refuge, Marx had close relations only with Weydemeyer and Cluss in the United States of America, Richard Reinhardt in Paris and Lassalle in Prussia. He was well aware that, although these contacts allowed a network to be kept going in quite difficult times, this ‘doesn’t add up to a party’. [88]

Besides, even this narrow circle had difficulty understanding some of Marx’s political and theoretical positions, and indeed his allies often brought him more disadvantages than benefits. On such occasions he could let off steam with no one besides Engels: ‘Of the many disagreeable experiences during my years here, the greatest have consistently been provided by so-called party friends… I propose at the next opportunity to declare publicly that I have nothing whatever to do with any party .’ [89] Unlike other leaders of the political emigration, Marx had always refused to join the existing international committees, which spent their time fantasizing about the imminent revolution; and the only member of other organizations with whom he maintained relations was Ernest Charles Jones, the main representative of the left wing of the Chartist movement.

The recruitment of new active supporters, and especially the involvement of workers in his ideas, was therefore an important and complicated matter, and the work Marx had under way was meant to serve that purpose, too. Recruitment was a necessity both theoretically and politically. In March 1853 Engels wrote to him:

You ought to finish your Economy; later on, as soon as we have a newspaper, we could bring it out in weekly numbers, and what the populus could not understand, the discipuli would expound tant bien que mal, mais cependant non sans effet. This would provide all our by then restored associations with a basis for debate.[90]

Marx had previously written to Engels that he hoped to spend a few days with him ‘in April’ and to ‘chat undisturbed about present conditions, which in [his] view must soon lead to an earthquake’. [91] But Marx did not manage to concentrate on his writing because of the poverty that tormented him. In 1853 Soho was the epicentre of another cholera epidemic, and the circumstances of the Marx family became more and more desperate. In August he wrote to Engels that ‘sundry creditors’ were ‘laying siege to the house’, and that ‘three-quarters of [his] time were taken up chasing after pennies’. [92] In order to survive, he and his wife Jenny were forced to have frequent recourse to the pawn shop, pledging the few clothes or objects of value left in a house that lacked ‘the wherewithal even for les choses les plus nécessaires ‘. [93] The income from journalistic articles became more and more indispensable, although they took up precious time. At the end of the year, he complained to his friend Cluss:

I had always hoped that … I might somehow contrive to withdraw into solitude for a few months and work at my Economy. It seems that this isn’t to be. I find perpetual hackwork for the newspapers tiresome. It is time-consuming, distracting and, in the end, amounts to very little. However independent one may think oneself, one is tied to the newspaper and its readers, especially when, like myself, one is paid in cash. Purely learned work is something totally different.[94]

When Marx had no choice but to heed the necessities of life, his thinking thus remained firmly anchored in the ‘Economy’.

VIII. The articles on the crisis for the New-York Tribune
In this period, too, economic crisis was a constant theme in Marx’s articles for the New-York Tribune. In ‘Revolution in China and Europe’, from June 1853, where he connected the anti-feudal Chinese revolution that began in 1851 to the general economic situation, Marx again expressed his conviction that there would soon come ‘a moment when the extension of the markets is unable to keep pace with the extension of British manufactures, and this disproportion must bring about a new crisis with the same certainty as it has done in the past’.[95] In his view, in the aftermath of revolution, an unforeseen contraction of the great Chinese market would ‘throw the spark into the overloaded mine of the present industrial system and cause the explosion of the long-prepared general crisis, which, spreading abroad, will be closely followed by political revolutions on the Continent’.[96] Of course, Marx did not look upon the revolutionary process in a determinist manner, but he was sure that crisis was an indispensable prerequisite for its fulfilment:

Since the commencement of the eighteenth century there has been no serious revolution in Europe which had not been preceded by a commercial and financial crisis. This applies no less to the revolution of 1789 than to that of 1848. … Neither wars nor revolutions are likely to put Europe by the ears, unless in consequence of a general commercial and industrial crisis, the signal of which has, as usual, to be given by England, the representative of European industry in the market of the world.[97]

The point was underlined in late September 1853, in the article ‘Political Movements: Scarcity of Bread in Europe’:

neither the declamation of the demagogues, nor the twaddle of the diplomats will drive matters to a crisis, but … there are approaching economical disasters and social convulsions which must be the sure forerunners of European revolution. Since 1849 commercial and industrial prosperity has stretched the lounge on which the counter-revolution has slept in safety.[98]

Traces of the optimism with which Marx awaited events may be found in the correspondence with Engels. In one letter, for example, also from September 1853, he wrote: ‘Les choses marchent merveilleusement. All h[ell] will be let loose in France when the financial bubble bursts.’ [99] But still the crisis did not come, and he concentrated his energies on other journalistic activity so as not to forego the only source of income.

Between October and December 1853, Marx penned a series of articles entitled Lord Palmerston, in which he criticized the foreign policy of Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston, the long-time foreign secretary and future prime minister of Britain. These appeared both in the New-York Tribune and in The People’s Paper published by the English Chartists. Between August and November 1854, following the Spanish civilian and military uprising in June, he wrote another series, The Revolution in Spain, in which he summarized and analyzed on the main events of the previous decade in Spain. He took these labours very seriously, as we can gauge from the nine large books of extracts that he compiled between September 1853 and January 1855, the first four of which, centred on diplomatic history, provided a basis for Lord Palmerston, while the other five, on Spanish political, social and cultural history, included research for the Revolution in Spain articles. [100]

Finally, at some point between late 1854 and early 1855, Marx resumed his studies of political economy. After the three-year break, however, he decided to re-read his old manuscripts before pressing on. In mid-February 1855 he wrote to Engels:

For the past 4-5 days I have been prevented from writing … by a severe inflammation of the eyes … My eye trouble was brought on by reading through my own notebooks on economics, the intention being, not so much to elaborate the thing, as at any rate to master the material and get it ready to work on. [101]

This review gave rise to twenty pages of fresh notes, to which Marx gave the title [Quotations. Essence of money, essence of credit, crises]; they were further extracts from extracts he had already made in recent years. Returning to books by writers such as Tooke, John Stuart Mill and Steuart, and to articles from The Economist, he further summarized the theories of the major political economists on money, credit and crisis, which he had begun to study in 1850.[102]

At the same time, Marx produced more articles on the recession for the New-York Tribune. In January 1855, in ‘The Commercial Crisis in Britain’, he wrote with satisfaction: ‘The English commercial crisis, whose premonitory symptoms were long ago chronicled in our columns, is a fact now loudly proclaimed by the highest authorities in this matter.'[103] And, two months later, in ‘The Crisis in England’:

A few months more and the crisis will be at a height which it has not reached in England since 1846, perhaps not since 1842. When its effects begin to be fully felt among the working classes, then will that political movement begin again, which has been dormant for six years. … Then will the two real contending parties in that country stand face to face – the middle class and the working classes, the Bourgeoisie and the Proletariat. [104]

Yet, just as Marx seemed on the point of restarting work on the ‘Economy’, personal difficulties once more caused a change of plan. In April 1855 he was profoundly shaken by the death of his eight-year-old son Edgar, confiding to Engels:

I’ve already had my share of bad luck but only now do I know what real unhappiness is. … Amid all the fearful torments I have recently had to endure, the thought of you and your friendship has always sustained me, as has the hope that there is something sensible for us to do together in the world. [105]

Marx’s health and economic circumstances remained disastrous throughout 1855, and his family increased again in size with Eleanor’s birth in January. He often complained to Engels of problems with his eyes and teeth and a terrible cough, and he felt that ‘the physical staleness also stultifie[d his] brain’. [106] A further complication was a law suit that Freund, the family doctor, had brought against him for non-payment of bills. To get away from this, Marx had to spend some time from mid-September to early December living with Engels in Manchester, and to remain hidden at home for a couple of weeks after his return. A solution came only thanks to a ‘very happy event’: an inheritance of £100 following the death of Jenny’s ninety-year-old uncle.[107]

Thus, Marx was able to start work again on political economy only in June 1856, writing some articles for The People’s Paper on Crédit Mobilier, the main French commercial bank, which he considered ‘one of the most curious economical phenomena of our epoch’. [108] After the family’s circumstances improved for a while in autumn 1856, allowing them to leave their Soho lodgings for a better flat in North London, Marx wrote again on the crisis for the New-York Tribune. He argued in ‘The Monetary Crisis in Europe’, published on 3 October 1856, that ‘a movement in the European money markets analogous to the panic of 1847’ was under way. [109] And in ‘The European Crisis’, which appeared in November, at a time when all the columnists were confidently predicting that the worst was over, he maintained:

The indications brought from Europe … certainly seem to postpone to a future day the final collapse of speculation and stock-jobbing, which men on both sides of the sea instinctively anticipate as with a fearful looking forward to some inevitable doom. That collapse is none the less sure from this postponement; indeed, the chronic character assumed by the existing financial crisis only forebodes for it a more violent and destructive end. The longer the crisis lasts the worse the ultimate reckoning.[110]

The events also gave Marx the opportunity to attack his political opponents. In ‘The Monetary Crisis in Europe’, he wrote:

If we place side by side the effects of this short monetary panic and the effect of Mazzinian and other proclamations, the whole history since 1849 of the delusions of the official revolutionists is at once deprived of its mysteries. They know nothing of the economical life of peoples, they know nothing of the real conditions of historical movement, and when the new revolution shall break out they will have a better right than Pilate to wash their hands and protest that they are innocent of the blood shed.[111]

In the first half of 1857, however, absolute calm prevailed on the international markets. Until March Marx worked on the Revelations of the Diplomatic History of the Eighteenth Century, a group of articles published in The Free Press, a paper run by the anti-Palmerston Conservative David Urquhart. These pieces were meant to be only the first part of a work on the history of diplomacy, which Marx had planned at the beginning of 1856 during the Crimean war, but which he would never complete. In this case too, he made a profound study of the materials, and between January 1856 and March 1857 he compiled seven books of extracts on international politics in the eighteenth century. [112]

Finally, in July, Marx wrote some brief but interesting critical remarks on Harmonies Économiques by Frédéric Bastiat and Principles of Political Economy by Carey, which he had already studied and excerpted in 1851. In these notes, posthumously published under the title [Bastiat and Carey], he pointed up the naivety of the two economists (the first a champion of free trade, the second of protectionism), who, in their writings, had strained to demonstrate ‘the harmony of the relations of production'[113] and thus of bourgeois society as a whole.

IX. The financial crisis of 1857 and the [Grundrisse]
This time, unlike in past crises, the economic storm began not in Europe but in the United States of America. During the first few months of 1857, the New York banks stepped up their volume of loans, despite the decline in deposits. The resulting growth in speculative activity worsened the general economic conditions, and, after the New York branch of the Ohio Life Insurance and Trust Company became insolvent, the prevailing panic led to numerous bankruptcies. Loss of confidence in the banking system then produced a contraction of credit, a drying up of deposits and the suspension of money payments.

Sensing the extraordinary nature of these events, Marx immediately got back to work. On 23 August 1857 – the very day before the Ohio Life collapse that sowed panic in public opinion – he began to write the [Introduction] to his ‘Economy’; the explosive onset of crisis had given him an additional motive that had been absent in previous years. After the defeat of 1848, Marx had faced a whole decade of political setbacks and deep personal isolation. But, with the outbreak of the crisis, he glimpsed the possibility of taking part in a new round of social revolts and considered that his most urgent task was to analyse the economic phenomena that would be so important for the beginning of a revolution. This meant writing and publishing, as quickly as possible, the work he had been planning for so long.

From New York the crisis rapidly spread to the rest of the United States of America and, within a few weeks, to all the centres of the world market in Europe, South America and the East, becoming the first international financial crisis in history. News of these developments generated great euphoria in Marx and fuelled a huge explosion of intellectual productivity. The period between summer 1857 and spring 1858 was one of the most prolific in his life: he managed to write more in a few months than in the preceding years. In December 1857 he wrote to Engels: ‘I am working like mad all night and every night collating my economic studies, so that I might at least get the outlines [Grundrisse] clear before the deluge.’ He also took the opportunity to point out that his predictions that a crisis was inevitable had not been so ill-founded, since ‘Saturday’s Economist maintains that, during the final months of 1853, throughout 1854, the autumn of 1855 and the sudden changes of 1856, Europe has never had more than a hair-breadth escape from the impending crisis’.[114]

Marx’s work was now remarkable and wide-ranging. From August 1857 to May 1858 he filled the eight notebooks known as the [Grundrisse], [115] while as New-York Tribune correspondent, he wrote dozens of articles on, among other things, the development of the crisis in Europe. Driven by the need to improve his economic circumstances, he also agreed to compose a number of entries for The New American Cyclopædia. Lastly, from October 1857 to February 1858, he compiled three books of extracts, called the [Crisis Notebooks].[116] Unlike the extracts he had made before, these were not compendia from the works of economists but consisted of a large quantity of notes, gleaned from various daily newspapers, about major developments in the crisis, stock market trends, trade exchange fluctuations and important bankruptcies in Europe, the United States of America and other parts of the world. A letter he wrote to Engels in December indicates how intense his activity was:

I am working enormously, as a rule until 4 o’clock in the morning. I am engaged on a twofold task: 1. Elaborating the outlines of political economy. (For the benefit of the public it is absolutely essential to go into the matter au fond, as it is is for my own, individually, to get rid of this nightmare.) 2. The present crisis. Apart from the articles for the [New-York – MM] Tribune, all I do is keep records of it, which, however, takes up a considerable amount of time. I think that, somewhere about the spring, we ought to do a pamphlet together about the affair as a reminder to the German public that we are still there as always, and always the same.[117]

As far as the [Grundrisse] are concerned, in the last week of August Marx drafted a notebook ‘M’ that was meant to serve as the [Introduction] to the work; and then, in mid-October, he pressed on with another seven notebooks (I-VII). In the first of these and in part of the second, he wrote the so-called [Chapter on Money], which deals with money and value, while in the remaining notebooks he wrote the so-called [Chapter on Capital]. In this he allocates hundreds of pages to the process of production and circulation of capital and takes up some of the most important themes in the whole manuscript, such as the concept of surplus-value and the economic formations which preceded the capitalist mode of production. This immense effort did not, however, allow him to complete the work. In late February 1858 he wrote to Lassalle:

I have in fact been at work on the final stages for some months. But the thing is proceeding very slowly because no sooner does one set about finally disposing of subjects to which one has devoted years of study than they start revealing new aspects and demand to be thought out further. … The work I am presently concerned with is a Critique of Economic Categories or, if you like, a critical exposé of the system of the bourgeois economy. It is at once an exposé and, by the same token, a critique of the system. I have very little idea how many sheets the whole thing will amount to. … Now that I am at last ready to set to work after 15 years of study, I have an uncomfortable feeling that turbulent movements from without will probably interfere after all.[118]

In reality, however, there was no sign of the long-awaited revolutionary movement that was supposed to spring up along with the crisis, and this time, too, another reason for Marx’s failure to complete the manuscript was his awareness that he was still far from a full critical mastery of the material. The [Grundrisse] therefore remained only a rough draft. After he had carefully worked up the [Chapter on Money] between August and October 1858 into the manuscript [Original Text of the Second and the Beginning of the Third Chapter of A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy], he published in 1859 a short book that had no public resonance: A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy. Another eight years of feverish study and enormous intellectual efforts would pass before the publication of Volume One of Capital.

X. Conclusions
The [Grundrisse] remained only a draft. After reworking the [Chapter on Money] between August and October 1858 into a manuscript[Zur Kritik der politischen Oekonomie. Urtext], he published a short book in 1859 under the title A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, which had no resonance. From then until the publication of Volume One of Capital in 1867, he spent another eight years of feverish study and enormous intellectual effort.
If we bear in kind not only the well-known works translated into English, but also the manuscripts and books of extracts in MEGA², the immensity and richness of Marx’s theoretical project appear in a clearer light. These notebooks show the huge limitations of the Marxist-Leninist account – an ideology that often depicted Marx’s conception as something separate from the studies he conducted, as if it had been magically present in his head from birth – but also of the debate in Europe in the 1960s about whether there was an epistemological break in his thought or a basic continuity with the philosophy of Hegel. In fact, the participants in that debate only considered a few of Marx’s texts, and even some of these they treated as thoroughly finished works when that was far from being the case.

Marx’s researches between the period of the [Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844] and [The German Ideology] and the period of the [Grundrisse], and then between the [Grundrisse] and the various drafts of Capital, have finally become accessible to scholars through the volumes of MEGA². This has made it possible to follow the many intermediate stages in the evolution of his ideas, both in the 1850s and after publication of Volume One of Capital, which suggest a more critical and open interpretation of his theory. The picture that emerges from MEGA² is of an author who left a large part of his writings unfinished, in order to engage until his death in further studies that would verify the correctness of his theses.

At a time when Marx’s ideas have finally been liberated from the chains of Soviet ideology, and when they are again being investigated for the sake of analysing the contemporary world, a more faithful account of the genesis of his thought may not be without important implications for the future – not only for Marx studies, but for the refounding of a critical thought that aims to transform the present.

XI. Appendix: Chronological Table of Notebooks of Excerpts, Manuscripts, Articles and Books on Political Economy from the 1843–58 Period

Year Title Description
1843-45 [Paris Notebooks] 9 notebooks of excerpts forming Marx’s earliest studies of political economy.
1844 [Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844] Unfinished manuscript composed in parallel with [Paris Notebooks].
1845 [Draft of an Article on Friedrich List’s book: Das Nationale System der Politischen Oekonomie ] Unfinished manuscript of an article against the German economist List.
1845 [Brussels Notebooks] 6 notebooks of excerpts concerning the basic concepts of political economy.
1845 [Manchester Notebooks] 9 notebooks of excerpts concerning economic problems, economic history and British socialist literature.
1846-47 Excerpts from von Gülich’s Historical Account of Commerce 3 notebooks of excerpts concerning economic history.
1847 The Poverty of Philosophy Polemical text against Proudhon’s System of Economic Contradictions.
1849 Wage-Labour and Capital 5 articles published in Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Organ der Demokratie.
1850 Articles for Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Politisch-okonomische Revue Articles concerning the economic situation.
1850-53 [London Notebooks] 24 notebooks of excerpts focused mainly on political economy (in particular: history and theory of crises, money, some classics of political economy, condition of the working class, and technology).
1851 [Bullion. The Perfect Monetary System] 2 notebooks of excerpts compiled during the drafting of the [London Notebooks], including quotations from the most important theories of money and circulation.
1851-62 Articles for the New-York Tribune Approx. 70 articles on political economy, out of 487 published in this paper.
1855 [Quotations. Essence of money, essence of credit, crises] 1 notebook of excerpts summarizing the theories of the main economists on money, credit and crises.
1857 [Introduction] Manuscript containing Marx’s most extensive considerations on method.
1857-58 [Notebooks on the crisis] 3 notebooks with reports on the financial crisis events of 1857.
1857-58 [Grundrisse] Preparatory manuscript for the Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy (1859).

Translated by Patrick Camiller

References
1. Moishe Poistone’s Time, Labour and Social Domination, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, was published unseasonably in 1993 and has been reprinted several times. Like this text, Terrell Carver’s The Postmodern Marx, Manchester University Press, Manchester (1998) and Michael A. Lebowitz’s Beyond Capital, Palgrave, London (2003, 2nd edn) were also marked by an innovative overall interpretation of Marx’s thought. On his early writings mention should be made of David Leopold’s The Young Karl Marx: German Philosophy, Modern Politics, and Human Flourishing, CUP, Cambridge (2007), while on the Grundrisse see the recent collection, Marcello Musto (ed.), Karl Marx’s Grundrisse. Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy 150 Years Later, Routledge, London/New York, 2008. In addition, John Bellamy Foster, Marx’s Ecology, Monthly Review Press, New York (2000), and Paul Burkett, Marxism and Ecological Economics, Brill, Boston (2006) are noteworthy for having related Marx to the environmental question. Finally, evidence of the widespread interest around the world are the English translation of the main works of the Latin American thinker Enrique Dussel: Towards an Unknown Marx, Routledge, London (2001); several studies from Japan collected by Hiroshi Uchida in Marx for the 21st century, Routledge, London (2006); and the theoretical developments of a new generation of Chinese researchers that is increasingly familiar with Western languages and further away from the tradition of dogmatic Marxism. For a more comprehensive survey of Marxist studies in the past twenty years, see Göran Therborn, “After dialectics. Radical social theory in a post-communist world”, New Left Review 43 (Jan. – Feb. 2007), pp. 63-114.
2. Cf. Marcello Musto, ‘The Rediscovery of Karl Marx’, International Review of Social History, vol. 52 part 3 (2007): 477-98.
3. The second section of MEGA², Das Kapital und Vorarbeiten, which will contain this material, is expected for the year 2010, coinciding with the publication of Volume II/4.3 Manuskripte 1883-1867. Teil 3, the last remaining batch of manuscripts from the 1863-67 period.
4. In this essay, the editorially assigned titles of Marx’s incomplete manuscripts are inserted between square brackets.
5. Of the few authors who, with the sources available at the time, really made an effort to interpret the less well-known phases of the genesis of Marx’s thought, special mention should be made of the articles by Maximilien Rubel, ‘Les cahiers de lecture de Karl Marx. I. 1840-1853’ and ‘II. 1853-1856’, first published in 1957 and 1960 in the International Review of Social History and subsequently reprinted inMarx critique du marxisme, Payot, Paris 1974, pp. 301-59. See also Vitalii Vygodskii,Istoria odnogo velikogo otkrytiia Karla Marksa, Mysl, Moscow 1965; Ernest Mandel, La formation de la pensée économique de Karl Marx de 1843 jusqu’à la rédaction du “Capital”. Etude génétique, Maspero, Paris 1967; and Walter Tuchscheerer, Bevor “Das Kapital” entstand, Akademie, Berlin 1968. In the English-speaking countries, research on these themes began to appear only fifteen years later, with three books by Allen Oakley: The Making of Marx’s Critical Theory, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London 1983; Marx’s Critique of Political Economy. Intellectual Sources and Evolution. Volume I: 1844 to 1860, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London 1984; and Marx’s Critique of Political Economy. Intellectual Sources and Evolution. Volume II: 1861 to 1863, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London 1985.
6. Sometimes this debate has been based on highly superficial interpretations. For a recent (bad) example of this kind, see Francis Wheen, Marx’s Das Kapital. A Biography, Atlantic Books, London 2006.
7. See Karl Marx, ‘Proceedings of the Sixth Rhine Province Assembly. Third Article. Debates on the Law on Thefts of Wood’ and ‘Justification of the Correspondent from the Mosel’, in Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Collected Works (hereafter MECW), London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1975-2005, vol. 1, pp. 224-63 and pp. 332-58; ‘Verhandlungen des 6. Rheinischen Landtags. Dritter Artikel: Debatten über das Holzdiebstahlsgesetz’ and ‘Rechtfertigung des ††-Korrespondenten von der Mosel’, MEGA² I/1, Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1975, pp. 199-236 and 296-323.
8. Karl Marx, ‘A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy. Part One’, in MECW 29, p. 263; Zur Kritik der politischen Ökonomie. Erstes Heft, MEGA² II/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1980, p. 100.
9. Karl Marx, ‘Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844′, MECW 3, p. 231; Ökonomisch-philosophische Manuskripte, MEGA² I/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1982, p. 325.
10. The censorship, as well as dissension between Marx and the other director, Arnold Ruge, dealt a severe blow to this publication, which appeared only once, in February 1844.
11. The Marx Nachlass contains some two hundred notebooks of summaries, which are essential for an understanding of the genesis of his theory and of parts of it that he never had an opportunity to develop as he would have wished. The surviving extracts, stretching all the way from 1838 to 1882, are written in eight languages (German, ancient Greek, Latin, French, English, Italian, Spanish and Russian) and pertain to the most varied disciplines. They were gathered from texts of philosophy, art, religion, politics, law, literature, history, political economy, international relations, technology, mathematics, physiology, geology, mineralogy, agronomy, ethnology, chemistry and physics, as well as from articles in newspapers and journals, parliamentary proceedings, and official government statistics, reports and publications.
12. As Marx did not yet know the English language in 1844, the English-language books he read at that time were in French translation.
13. These extracts are contained in the volumes Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. 1843 bis Januar 1845, MEGA² IV/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1981 and Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. Sommer 1844 bis Anfang 1847, MEGA² IV/3, Berlin: Akademie, 1998. The only parts translated into English are ‘Comments on James Mill, “Élémens d’économie politique”‘, MECW 3, pp. 211-28.
14. On the relationship between the [Economic-Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844] and the [Paris Manuscripts],see Marcello Musto, ‘Marx in Paris. Manuscripts and Notebooks of 1844’, Science & Society, vol. 73, n. 3 (July 2009), pp. 386-402.
15. ‘Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844’, MECW 3, p. 272; Ökonomisch-philosophische Manuskripte, MEGA² I/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1982, pp. 364-5.
16. ‘Heinrich Bürgers, Autumn 1844 – Winter 1845’, in Hans Magnus Enzensberger, ed., Gespräche mit Marx und Engels, Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp, 1973, p. 46.
17. ‘Engels to Marx, Beginning of October 1844’, MECW 38, p. 6.
18. In reality, Engels contributed only ten or so pages to the text.
19. Engels to Marx, 20 January 1845, MECW 38, p. 17-18.
20. Marx Engels, Werke, vol. 27, Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1963, p. 669, n. 365.
21. ‘Marx’s Undertaking Not to Publish Anything in Belgium on Current Politics’, MECW 4, p. 677.
22. Karl Marx, ‘Draft of an Article on Friedrich List’s Book Das Nationale System der Politischen Oekonomie’, MECW 4, pp. 265-93.
23. All these extracts may be found in Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. Sommer 1844 bis Anfang 1847, op. cit.
24. See ‘Plan of the “Library of the Best Foreign Socialist Writers”‘, MECW 4, p. 667.
25. These extracts are contained in Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Exzerpte und Notizen. Juli bis August 1845, MEGA² IV/4, which also includes the first [Manchester Notebooks]. It was during this period that Marx began to read directly in English.
26. These still unpublished extracts, forming part of the [Manchester Notebooks] VI-IX, are due to appear in Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Exzerpte und Notizen. August 1845 bis Dezember 1850, MEGA² IV/5.
27. Karl Marx, ‘Declaration against Karl Grün’, MECW 6, p. 72; MEW 4, Berlin: Dietz, 1959, p. 38.
28. Karl Marx to Carl Wilhelm Julius Leske, 1 August 1846, in MECW 38, p. 50; MEGA² III/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1979, p. 22.
29. Friedrich Engels, ‘Preface to the Pamphlet Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy’, MECW 26, p. 519; Ludwig Feuerbach und der Ausgang der klassischen deutschen Philosophie, MEW 21, p. 263. In fact Engels already used this expression in 1859, in his review of Marx’s book A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, but the article had no resonance and the term began to circulate only after the publication of Ludwig Feuerbach.
30. Karl Marx to Carl Wilhelm Julius Leske, 1 August 1846, in MECW 38, p. 51; MEGA² III/2, Berlin: Dietz, 1979, p. 24.
31. Georg Weerth to Wilhelm Weerth, 18 November 1846, in Enzensberger (ed.), Gespräche mit Marx und Engels, pp. 68-9.
32. These extracts constitute the volume Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. September 1846 bis Dezember 1847, MEGA² IV/6, Berlin: Dietz, 1983.
33. ‘Letter from Marx to Pavel Vasilyevich Annenkov’, 28 December 1846, in MECW 38, p. 95; MEGA² III/2, p. 70.
34. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, ‘The Manifesto of the Communist Party’, MECW 6, pp. 481, 482.
35. Karl Marx, ‘Wage Labour and Capital’, MECW 9, p. 198; Lohnarbeit und Kapital, MEW 6, p. 398.
36. Karl Marx to Friedrich Engels, 23 August 1849, MECW 38, p. 213; MEGA² III/3, p. 44.
37. Karl Marx, ‘The Class Struggles in France, 1848 to 1850’, MECW 10, p. 134; Die Klassenkämpfe in Frankreich 1848 bis 1850, MEW 7, p. 97.
38. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, ‘Announcement of the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Politisch-okonomische Revue’, MECW 10, p. 5; ‘Ankündigung der Neuen Rheinischen Zeitung. Politisch-ökonomische Revue’, MEGA² I/10, p. 17.
39. Karl Marx to Joseph Weydemeyer, 19 December 1849, MECW 38, p. 220.
40. ‘The Class Struggles in France, 1848 to 1850’, MECW 10, p. 135; Die Klassenkämpfe in Frankreich 1848 bis 1850, MEW 7, pp. 98-9.
41. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, ‘Review: January-February 1850’, MECW 10, pp. 264-5; ‘Revue. Januar/Februar 1850’, MEGA² I/10, p. 218.
42. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, ‘Review: March-April 1850’, MECW 10, p. 340; ‘Revue.März/April 1850’, MEGA² I/10, pp. 302-3.
43. Ibid., p. 341; ibid., p. 304.
44. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, ‘Review: May-October 1850’, MECW 10, p. 497; ‘Revue.Mai bis Oktober 1850’, MEGA² I/10, p. 455.
45. Ibid., p. 503; ibid., pp. 459-60.
46. ‘Reviews from the Neue Rheinische Zeitung Revue No.4’, MECW 10, p. 318; ‘Rezensionen aus Heft 4 der Neuen Rheinischen Zeitung. Politisch-ökonomische Revue’, MEGA² I/10, p. 283.
47. Marx and Engels, ‘Review: May-October 1850’, MECW 10, pp. 529-30; ‘Revue.Mai bis Oktober 1850’, MEGA² I/10, pp. 485-6.
48. ‘The vulgar democrats expected sparks to fly again any day; we declared as early as autumn 1850 that at least the first chapter of the revolutionary period was closed and that nothing was to be expected until the outbreak of a new world economic crisis. For which reason we were excommunicated, as traitors to the revolution, by the very people who later, almost without exception, made their peace with Bismarck.’ Friedrich Engels, ‘Introduction to Karl Marx’s The Class Struggles in France, 1848 to 1850, MECW 27, p. 510; ‘Einleitung zu Karl Marx’ Die Klassenkämpfe in Frankreich 1848 bis 1850’, MEW 22, p. 513.
49. Marx to Engels, 11 February 1851, MECW 38, p. 286; MEGA² III/4, p. 38.
50. Marx to Engels [postscript by Wilhelm Pieper], 27 January 1851, MECW 38, pp. 269-70; MEGA² III/4, p. 17.
51. Marx to Engels, 11 February 1851, MECW 38, p. 286; MEGA² III/4, p. 37.
52. Engels to Marx, 13 February 1851, MECW 38, pp. 290-1; MEGA² III/4, pp. 42-3.
53. See Walter Tuchscheerer, Bevor ‘Das Kapital’ enstand, Berlin: Akademie, 1973, p. 318.
54. For an appraisal of the importance of the [London Notebooks] see the spezial issue – n. 7 (1979) – of the journalArbeitsblätter zur Marx-Engelsforschung: Wolfgang Jahn – Dietrich Noske (eds), Fragen der Entwicklung der Forschungsmethode von Karl Marx in den Londoner Exzerptheften von 1850–1853.
55. Except for the material from Adam Smith, which is in the volume Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. März bis Juni 1851, MEGA² IV/8, Berlin: Dietz, 1986, all the excerpts in question may be found in Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Exzerpte und Notizen. September 1849 bis Februar 1851, Berlin: Dietz, 1983, MEGA² IV/7. Smith’s Wealth of Nations (Notebook VII) and Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation (Notebooks IV, VII and VIII), which Marx had read in French during his stay in Paris in 1844, were now studied in the original English.
56. See Marx to Engels, 3 February 1851, MECW 38, p. 275; MEGA² III/4, Dietz, Berlin 1984, p. 27.
57. ‘Bullion. Das vollendete Geldsystem’, MEGA² IV/8, op. cit., pp. 3-85. The second of these unnumbered notebooks also contains other extracts, most notably from John Fullarton’s On the Regulation of Currencies.
58. Another brief exposition of Marx’s theories on money, credit and crisis is contained in Notebook VII, in the fragmentary ‘Reflections’, MECW 10, pp. 584-92; MEGA² IV/8, pp. 227-34.
59. Marx to Engels, 2 April 1851, MECW 38, p. 325; MEGA² III/4, p. 85. Translation modified.
60. Engels to Marx, 3 April 1851, MECW 38, p. 330; MEGA² III/4, op. cit., p. 90.
61. See Karl Marx, Exzerpte aus David Ricardo: On the principles of political economy, MEGA² IV/8, pp. 326-31, 350-72, 381-95, 402-4, 409-26. Proof of the importance of these pages is the fact that the extracts, together with others by the same author contained in Notebooks IV and VII, were published in 1941, in the second volume of the first edition of the [Grundrisse].
62. In this crucial phase of new theoretical acquisitions, Marx’s relationship with Engels was of the greatest importance: for example, some of his letters to him summarize his critical views on Ricardo’s theory of ground rent (Marx to Engels, 7 January 1851, MECW 38, pp. 258-63; MEGA² III/4, pp. 6-10) and monetary circulation (Marx to Engels, 3 February 1851, MECW 38, pp. 273-8; MEGA² III/4, pp. 24-30).
63. In this same period, Max turned his attention to industry and machinery. See Hans-Peter Müller, Karl Marx über Maschinerie, Kapital und industrielle Revolution, Westdeutscher, Opladen 1992.
64. Marx to Joseph Weydemeyer, 27 June 1851, MECW 38, p. 377; MEGA² III/4, op. cit., p. 140.
65. Marx to Engels, 31 July 1851, MECW 38, p. 398; MEGA² III/4, pp. 159-60.
66. At the time, the New-York Tribune appeared in three different editions (New-York Daily Tribune,New-York Semi-Weekly Tribune and New-York Weekly Tribune), each of which carried many articles by Marx. To be precise, the New-York Daily Tribune published 487 articles, more than half of which were reprinted in the New-York Semi-Weekly Tribune and more than a quarter in the New-York Weekly Tribune (and to these should be added a few others that he sent to the paper but which were rejected by the editor, Charles Dana). Of the articles published in the New-York Daily Tribune, more than two hundred appeared as unsigned editorials. It should finally be mentioned that, to allow Marx more time for his studies of political economy, roughly a half of these articles were actually written by Engels. The submissions to the New-York Tribune always aroused great interest, as we can see, for example, from an editorial statement in the issue of 7 April 1853: ‘Mr Marx has very decided opinions of his own, … but those who do not read his letters neglect one of the most instructive sources of information on the great questions of current European politics.’ Quoted in Marx to Engels, 26 April 1853, MECW 39, p. 315; MEGA² III/6, Berlin: Dietz, 1987, p. 100.
67. See Friedrich Engels, ‘Critical Review of Proudhon’s Book Idée générale de la Révolution au XIXe siècle’, MECW 11, pp. 545-70.
68. The extracts from these books are contained in Karl Marx, Exzerpte und Notizen. Juli bis September 1851, MEGA² vol. IV/9, Berlin: Dietz, 1991.
69. These notebooks have not yet been published in MEGA², but Notebook XV featured in Hans Peter Müller’s collection: Karl Marx,Die technologisch-historischen Exzerpte, Frankfurt/Main: Ullstein, 1982. See the recent study by Amy E. Wendling, Karl Marx on Technology and Alienation, Palgrave, New York/Houndmills 2009.
70. Marx to Engels, 13 October 1851, MECW 38, p. 476; MEGA² III/4, p. 232.
71. See esp. Ferdinand Lassalle to Karl Marx, 12 May 1851, MEGA² III/4, pp. 377-8; Marx to Engels, 24 November 1851, MECW 38, pp. 490-2 (MEGA² III/4, pp. 247-8); and Engels to Marx, 27 November 1851, MECW 38, pp. 493-5 (MEGA² III/4, pp. 249-51).
72. Engels to Marx, 27 November 1851, MECW 38, p. 494, translation modified; MEGA² III/4, p. 250.
73. Karl Marx to Joseph Weydemeyer, 30 January 1852, MECW 39, p. 26; MEGA² IV/5, Berlin: Dietz, 1987, p. 31.
74. Marx to Ferdinand Freiligrath, 27 December 1851, MECW 38, p. 520; MEGA² III/4, p. 279.
75. Marx to Gustav Zerffi, 28 December 1852, MECW 39, p. 270; MEGA² III/6, p. 113.
76. These notebooks have not yet been published.
77. Marx to Engels, 8 September 1852, MECW 39, pp. 181-2; MEGA² III/6, pp. 11-12.
78. Marx to Engels, 25 October 1852, MECW 39, p. 216, translation modified; MEGA² III/6, p. 50.
79. Marx to Engels, 27 October 1852, MECW 39, p. 221; MEGA² III/6, p. 55.
80. Marx to Ferdinand Lassalle, 23 February 1852, MECW 39, p. 46; MEGA² III/5, p. 56.
81. Marx to Joseph Weydemeyer, 30 April 1852, MECW 39, p. 96; MEGA² III/5, p. 110.
82. Marx to Engels, 19 August 1852, MECW 39, p. 163; MEGA² III/5, p. 183.
83. Karl Marx, ‘Pauperism and Free Trade – The Approaching Commercial Crisis’, MECW 11, p. 361; MEGA² I/11, Berlin: Dietz, 1985, p. 347.
84. Marx to Adolf Cluss, 7 December 1852, MECW 39, p. 259; MEGA² III/6, p. 103.
85. Marx to Engels, 10 March 1853, MECW 39, p. 288; MEGA² IV/6, p. 133.
86. This expression was used for the first time in 1846, with regard to the differences between Marx and the German communist Wilhelm Weitling. It was subsequently employed also in the trial proceedings at Cologne. See Maximilien Rubel, Marx, critique du marxisme, op. cit., p. 26, n. 2.
87. This term appeared for the first time in 1854. See Georges Haupt, ‘From Marx to Marxism’, in idem, Aspects of International Socialism, 1871-1914, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986, p. 2.
88. Marx to Engels, 10 March 1853, MECW 39, p. 290; MEGA² III/6, p. 134.
89. Marx to Engels, 8 October 1853, MECW 39, p. 386, translation modified; MEGA² III/7, pp. 31-2.
90. Engels to Marx, 11 March 1853, MECW 39, p. 293; MEGA² III/6, p. 138.
91. Marx to Engels, 10 March 1853, MECW 39, p. 289; MEGA² IV/6, p. 134.
92. Marx to Engels, 18 August 1853, MECW 39, p. 356; MEGA² III/6, p. 208.
93. Marx to Engels, 8 July 1853, MECW 39, p. 352; MEGA² III/6, p. 203.
94. Marx to Adolf Cluss, 15 September 1853, MECW 39, p. 367; MEGA² III/7, pp. 11-12.
95. Karl Marx, ‘Revolution in China and Europe’, MECW 12, pp. 95-6; MEGA² I/12, p. 149.
96. Ibid., p. 98; ibid., p. 151.
97. Ibid., p. 99; ibid., pp. 152-3.
98. Karl Marx, ‘Political Movements. – Scarcity of Bread in Europe’, MECW 12, p. 308; MEGA² I/12, p. 332.
99. Marx to Engels, 28 September 1853, MECW 39, p. 372; MEGA² III/7, p. 18.
100. These notebooks of extracts have recently been published in Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Exzerpte und Notizen. September 1853 bis Januar 1855, Berlin: Akademie, 2007.
101. Marx to Engels, 13 February 1855, MECW 39, p. 522; MEGA² III/7, p. 180.
102. See Fred E. Schrader, Restauration und Revolution, Hildesheim: Gerstenberg, 1980, p. 99.
103. Karl Marx, ‘The Commercial Crisis in Britain’, MECW 13, p. 585; MEGA² I/14, p. 37.
104. Karl Marx, ‘The Crisis in England’, MECW 14, p. 61; MEGA² I/14, p. 168.
105. Marx to Engels, 12 April 1855, MECW 39, p. 533; MEGA² III/7, p. 189.
106. Marx to Engels, 3 March 1855, MECW 39, p. 525; MEGA² III/7, p. 182.
107. Marx to Engels, 8 March 1855, MECW 39, p. 526; MEGA² III/7, p. 183.
108. Karl Marx, ‘The French Crédit Mobilier’, MECW 15, p. 10.
109. Karl Marx, ‘The Monetary Crisis in Europe’, MECW 15, p. 113.
110. Karl Marx, ‘The European Crisis’, MECW 15, p. 136.
111. Karl Marx, ‘The Monetary Crisis in Europe’, MECW 15, p. 115.
112. These notebooks of extracts are still unpublished.
113. Karl Marx, Ökonomische Manuskripte 1857/58, in MEGA², II/1.1, Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1976, p. 4; ‘Bastiat and Carey’, in Grundrisse: Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy (Draft), London: Penguin Books, 1993, p. 886. Like the extracts from Ricardo, the [Bastiat and Carey] fragment was included in volume two of the first edition of the [Grundrisse].
114. Marx to Engels, 8 December 1857, MECW 40, p. 217; MEGA², III/8, Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1990, p. 210.
115. Apart from Notebooks M and VII, which are kept at the International Institute of Social History in Amsterdam, these are all at the Russian State Archive for Socio-Political History in Moscow. With regard to dates, it should be stressed that the first part of Notebook I, which contains Marx’s critical analysis of De la réforme des banques by Alfred Darimon, was written in the months of January and February 1857, not (as the editors of the [Grundrisse] thought) in October. See Inna Ossobowa, ‘Über einige Probleme der ökonomischen Srudien von Marx im Jahre 1857 vom Standpunkt des Historikers’, Beiträge zur Marx-Engels-Forschung 29, 1990, pp. 147-61.
116. These notebooks have not yet been published. Cf. Michael Krätke, ‘Marx’s “books of crisis” of 1857-8’, in Marcello Musto (ed.), Karl Marx’s Grundrisse. Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy 150 Years Later, op. cit., pp. 169-75.
117. Marx to Engels, 18 December 1857, MECW 40, p. 224; MEGA², III/8, p. 221. A few days later, Marx communicated his plans to Lassalle: ‘The present commercial crisis has impelled me to set to work seriously on my outlines of political economy, and also to prepare something on the present crisis.’ (Marx to Ferdinand Lassalle, 21 December 1857, MECW 40, p. 226; MEGA², III/8, p. 223.)
118. Marx to Ferdinand Lassalle, 22 February 1858, MECW 40, pp. 270-1; MEGA², III/9, Berlin:Akademie, 2003, p. 239.

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Reviews

Alex Marshall, Critique. Journal of Socialist Theory

Blessed with an elegant introduction by Eric Hobsbawm, this substantial collection of essays to commemorate the anniversary of the writing of Karl Marx’s groundbreaking 1857–58 notebooks on political economy—the core from which Capital subsequently emerged—represents a highly interesting and ambitious project.

The collection itself is divided into three sections: critical interpretations of the text, three chapters on Marx’s own life at the time of writing of the Grundrisse, and 21 short expositions on the text’s reception upon publication in a variety of countries across the globe, ranging from Brazil, Portugal and South Korea, to Japan, China, Poland and Iran. Of these three sections, the first and second are by far the most interesting and satisfactory, whilst the two-page summaries that comprise the bulk of the third section add relatively little of analytical weight, though being not entirely devoid of interest for tracking the time lag in the work’s global dissemination (the Grundrisse was published in Portuguese only in 2008, whilst a Korean edition was released in South Korea only in 2000, and a Farsi text in Iran only in 1985–87).

The relationship of the Grundrisse to the three volumes of Capital continues to form the centre of most analysis; particularly as the Grundrisse itself sketches out a wider field of study than Capital itself ever ended up managing to cover. The delayed publication of the notebooks themselves (first published in German in 1939–41, in a now-rare Soviet edition, then republished in the GDR in 1953) meant that the Grundrisse ended up forming a keystone text in Western re-analysis of Marxism during the 1960s and 1970s, when the publication of the majority of Marx’s earlier writings for the first time was leading to a more general wave of reassessment of his legacy and true intent. This ‘first wave’ of exposure produced the 1973 English translation of the Grundrisse still available as a Penguin Classic today. Though Marx used the seven notebooks of the Grundrisse to organise his thoughts, and clearly never foresaw them becoming an independent publication (the work itself, as Marcello Musto notes in the second section of this volume, being written amidst circumstances of the utmost personal misery, and impoverishment), most commentators, including this volume’s contributors, have predominantly sought to re-interpret the unfinished Capital in light of the broader field of insight offered by the preliminary notes of the Grundrisse.

Marcello Musto opens the book by providing a stimulating overview of perhaps the single most complex and controversial part of the Grundrisse, namely the ‘Introduction’, which contains ‘the most extensive and detailed pronouncement that Marx ever made on epistemological questions’ (p. 3). This provides a useful reminder that Marx’s profound critique of political economy, and that which continues to distinguish him most clearly from even contemporary political economists, relates to his view of capital as historically contingent, rather than a natural and eternal form; a view that thereby continues to render him an effective antidote to the kind of vulgarised analysis which has informed even the most recent financial crisis.11For example: Samuel Brittan, ‘A Catechism for a System That Endures’, The Financial Times, 30 April 2009.View all notes This opening chapter also makes an extremely useful accompanying text for beginning to read the Grundrisse itself. Joachim Bischoff and Christoph Lieber go on to provide a stimulating study of the relationship between money and capital in the Grundrisse, whilst Terrell Carver delves into the difficult concept of ‘alienation’. Taking on David McLellan’s argument that alienation is ‘fundamental’ to the Grundrisse, Carver argues that the text represents a transition between the philosophical interpretation of the concept that suffuses theEconomic and Political Manuscripts and the later writing style of Capital, but also dismisses the idea that the difference in tone might carry deeper implications, or reflect ‘tendentious dichotomies between philosophy and science’ (p. 61)—stark dismissal of the very debates that once generated such passion in Marxist scholarship in the late 20th century (Althusser vs. Marcuse and Bloch, for example).

Continuing the explanatory theme unveiled in Musto’s opening chapter, Enrique Dussel revisits Marx’s exposition of surplus value as labour time, re-entering that ‘river of ideas where Marx slowly constructs his categories with all its ebbs and flows’ (p. 68). E.M. Wood meanwhile boldly takes up the earlier work of Eric Hobsbawm to re-examine historical materialism, pointing to errors in Marx and Engel’s typology of pre-capitalist modes of production in the light of subsequent archaeological evidence, but convincingly defending the enduring achievement of Marx’s liberation of history from Enlightenment conceptions of unilinear development, due to his very personal emphasis on the specificity of every mode of production ‘and of capitalism in particular’ (p. 91). John Bellamy Foster provides an ecological interpretation of the Grundrisse, whilst Iring Fetscher deals with one of the most harshly criticized areas of Marxist thought—Marx’s own vision of a post-capitalist society, and of labour evolving to become ‘self-realization’. Moishe Postone then provides a potentially controversial, but thoroughly satisfying, conclusion to the analytical essays contained in part one, by re-analysing Capital in the light of the Grundrisse, arguing that Marx’s notion of the structural contradiction in capitalism should not be assumed to correspond directly to class conflict.

This is an unusually well thought through and carefully edited set of essays, which avoids the pitfalls of most works of this type by being both consistently stimulating and provocative, as well as always clearly focused. The provision of biographical material on Marx himself, complemented by photographs of Marx and actual pages from the 1857–58 notebooks themselves, also makes this a handsome companion volume to the Grundrisse for both scholar and student alike, one which both communities could repeatedly turn and consult for years to come with much mutual benefit.

Notes

[1] For example: Samuel Brittan, ‘A Catechism for a System That Endures’, The Financial Times, 30 April 2009.

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Journal Articles

Marx is Back

From the new edition of his works emerges a misunderstood author of great topicality for the critique of the present. Contrary to the forecasts that predicted his definitive fall into oblivion, in the last few years Marx has returned to the attention of international scholars. His continuing ability to explain today’s world confirms the validity of his theory and more and more often his texts are revisited in Europe, the United States and Japan. The most significant illustration of this rediscovery is the resumption of the publication of his works. In fact, despite the enormous diffusion of Marx’s thought in the twentieth century, there is still no unabridged and scientific edition of his works to date. Of the greatest thinkers of humanity this fate fell exclusively to him.

To understand how this was possible, one needs to consider the varied vicissitudes of the working class movement that too often obstructed rather than facilitated the publication of his texts. After Marx and Engels died, conflicts within the German Social Democratic Party led to great negligence of the authors’ literary heritage. The first attempt to publish their complete works, the Marx-Engels-Gesamtausgabe (MEGA), was made in the Soviet Union only in the 1920s but in the early 1930s the Stalinist purges, that also hit the main scholars engaged in the project, and the advent of Nazism in Germany abruptly interrupted the works on this edition. In 1975 the next attempt to reproduce the whole of the thinkers’ writings, the so-called MEGA², began but was suspended too, this time as a result of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

In 1990, the International Marx-Engels Foundation (Imes) was created with the aim of completing this edition, bringing together scholars from three different continents. The project is extremely important, especially because a large amount of Marxian manuscripts still remains unpublished, and such cyclopean undertaking will be used as the basis for all new translations of Marx’s and Engels’s works in all languages. The MEGA² is composed of the following four sections: all of their works; their correspondence; Capital and its several drafts; and over two hundred notebooks on the most varied topics in eight languages, the building site of Marx’s development. To date 53 of the planned 114 volumes have been published, 13 of which came out after the project was resumed in 1998. Each volume comprises two large tomes: one for the text, the other for apparatus criticus (for more information, visit www.bbaw.de/vs/mega).

What sort of Marx arises out of this new historical and critical edition? Definitely a different one from that depicted by his enemies and followers for a long time. However paradoxical it may seem, Karl Marx is a misunderstood author. The epigones’ systematic treatment of his critical theory, the theoretical impoverishment that accompanied its dissemination, the manipulation and censorship of his writings and their utilisation for reasons instrumental to the dictates of politics, have contributed to making him the victim of a deep and repeated misjudgement. The rediscovery of his work demonstrates the difference between Marx and ‘Marxism’, between the wealth of a problematic and polymorphous framework still to be explored, and a doctrine that altered its original conception to the extent of becoming its manifest negation. Those statues with stony profiles, that stood in the public squares of many illiberal regimes of Eastern Europe and depicted Marx as a prophet with dogmatic certainties about the future, can now be substituted by the image of an author who, until his death, left a large part of his writings uncompleted so as to dedicate himself to further research to verify the strength of his theses.

There are two examples of this: one is the fragmentary character that was restored to The German Ideology in its latest edition, evidence of the ‘Marxist-Leninist’ interpretative falsification that had turned these manuscripts into an exhaustive exposition of ‘historical materialism’ (an expression Marx never used). Far from being confinable to epitaphs, Marx’s concept of history needs to be retraced in the totality of his oeuvre. The other example is the publication of the second and third book of Capital, which brought to light over five thousand editorial interventions by Engels and demonstrated that, far from espousing a conclusive economic theory, these were by and large provisional notes under development. The imminent completion of the publication of all of the original works left to us by Marx is finally going to permit a reliable assessment.

What has already been ascertained is the value of Marx’s relentless intellectual efforts. However uncompleted, they are still the genial efforts and present us with a wealth of piercing analyses of the contemporary world. Faced with the current contradictions and crisis of capitalist society, in these volumes we go back to interrogating the same Marx whom we too hastily put aside after 1989. Having cleared the terrain of the self-professed custodians of his thought, it is hoped that this time we will hear it from the man himself.

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Journal Articles

Marx in Paris

I. Introduction
The [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844][1] are one of Marx’s best-known works all around the world. Yet, although they are so often discussed and are so important for overall interpretations of their author’s thought, little attention has been paid to the philological problems that they present. This fact, together with the theorical and political disputes that began with publication of the first edition in 1932, has helped to fuel a misinterpretation of what many commentators regard as the most significant text of Marx’s youth.

After a brief description of the intellectual climate at the time of Marx’s stay in the French capital (§ II) and of the economic studies that he began there (§ III), this article examines the close connection between the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844] and the parallel notebooks of excerpts that Marx compiled from the writings of political economists (§ IV) as well as the greater philosophical and political maturity that he achieved in this major period of his development (§ V-VI). Finally, a table reconstructs the chronological order of the manuscripts and notebooks of excerpts that Marx composed in Paris between the autumn of 1843 and January 1845.

II. Paris: capital of the new world
Paris is a ‘monstrous miracle, an astounding assemblage of movements, machines and ideas, the city of a thousand different romances, the world’s thinking-box’ (Balzac, 1972, 33). This is how Balzac described in one of his tales the effect of the metropolis on those who did not know it thoroughly.

During the years before the 1848 revolution, the city was inhabited by artisans and workers in constant political agitation. From its colonies of exiles, revolutionaries, writers and artists and the general social ferment, it had acquired an intensity found in few other epochs. Men and women with the most varied intellectual gifts were publishing books, journals and newspapers, writing poetry, speaking at meetings, and discussing endlessly in cafés, in the street and on public benches. Their close proximity meant that they exercised a continual influence on one another (cf. Berlin 1963, 81f.).

Bakunin, having decided to cross the Rhine, suddenly found himself ‘amid those new elements which have not yet been born in Germany … [in a climate where] political ideas circulate among all strata of society’ (Bakunin, 1982, 482). Von Stein wrote that ‘life in the populace itself was beginning to create new associations and to conceive of new revolutions’ (von Stein 1848, 509). Ruge was of the view that ‘in Paris we shall live our victories and our defeats’ (Ruge 1975, 59). In short, it was the place to be at that particular moment in history.

For Balzac ‘the streets of Paris have human qualities and such a physiognomy as leaves us with impressions against which we can put up no resistance’ (Balzac 1972, 31). Many of these impressions also struck Karl Marx, who at the age of twenty-five had moved there in October 1843; they profoundly marked his intellectual evolution, which matured decisively during his time in Paris.

Following the journalistic experience on the Rheinische Zeitung, Marx’s abandonment of the conceptual horizon of the Hegelian rational state and an associated democratic radicalism meant that he had arrived in the French capital with a certain theoretical disponibilité. But this was now shaken by the tangible vision of the proletariat. The uncertainty generated by the problematic atmosphere of the times, which saw the rapid consolidation of a new social-economic reality, was dissipated once he made contact, both theoretically and experientially, with the Parisian working class and its living and working conditions.

The discovery of the proletariat and, through it, of revolution; the new commitment to communism, still unclearly defined and semi-utopian; the critique of Hegel’s speculative philosophy and the Hegelian Left; the first outline of the materialist conception of history and the beginnings of his critique of political economy: these were the set of fundamental themes that Marx would develop during this period.

The following notes, which deliberately forego a critical interpretation of Marx’s famous early text, the so-called [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] written during his stay in Paris, mainly focus on philological issues regarding it.

III. Settling on political economy
When he had been working with the Rheinische Zeitung, Marx had already grappled with particular economic questions, but always from a legal or political viewpoint. Subsequently, in the ideas he developed at Kreuznach in 1843 – the source for [Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right], in which civil society is conceived as the real foundation of the political state – he had formulated for the first time the importance of the economic factor in social relations. But it was only in Paris that Marx made a start on a ‘conscientious critical study of political economy’ (Marx 1975d, 231), having received a crucial impetus from contradictions in law and politics that could not be solved within their own sphere and from the inability of either to furnish solutions to social problems. Engels’s ‘Outlines of a Critique of Political Economy’ (one of his two articles to appear in the first and only volume of the Deutsch-französische Jahrbücher) also made a decisive impact on Marx at this time. From that point his studies, hitherto mainly philosophical, political and historical, turned to the new discipline that would become the fulcrum of his scientific concerns and mark out a new horizon he would never abandon (cf. Rubel, 1968, liv-lv).

Under the influence of Moses Hess’s Essence of Money and his transposition of the concept of alienation from a speculative to a social-economic plane, Marx first concentrated on a critique of the economic mediation of money as an obstacle to the realization of the human essence. In a polemic against Bruno Bauer’s ‘On the Jewish Question’, he considered the Jewish question to be a social problem that represented the philosophical and social-historical presupposition of capitalist civilization as a whole. The Jew was the metaphor and the historical vanguard for the relations it produced, a worldly figure that became synonymous with capitalism tout court (cf. Tuchscheerer 1968, 56).

Immediately afterwards Marx began massive reading in a new field of study, and his critical comments, as a few illustrations will demonstrate, punctuate the manuscripts and notebooks of excerpts and notes that he compiled, as usual, from the reading material. The guiding thread of his work was the need to unveil and oppose the greatest mystification of political economy: the idea that its categories were valid at all times and in all places. Marx was deeply affected by this blindness and lack of historical sense on the part of the economists, who thereby tried to conceal and justify the inhumanity of the economic conditions of their time by presenting them as a fact of nature. In a comment on a text by Say, he noted that ‘private property is a fact whose constitution does not concern political economy yet which is its foundation. … The whole of political economy is therefore based on a fact devoid of necessity’ (Marx 1981, 316). Similar observations recur in the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts], where Marx emphasizes that ‘political economy starts with the fact of private property; it does not explain it to us’. ‘The economist assumes in the form of a fact, of an event, what he is supposed to deduce’ (Marx 1975d, 270-1).

Political economy, then, takes the regime of private property, the associated mode of production and the corresponding economic categories as immutable for all eternity. The man of bourgeois society appears as if he were natural man. In short, ‘when one speaks of private property, one thinks of dealing with something external to man’ (Marx 1975d, 281). Marx’s rejection of this ontological switch could not have been clearer.

His deep and wide study of history had given him a first key to read the temporal evolution of social structures, and he had also taken over what he regarded as Proudhon’s best insights, including his critique of the idea of private property as a natural right (Proudhon 1890, 44f.). With these supports, Marx was able to achieve the central cognitive grasp of the provisional character of history. The bourgeois economists presented laws of the capitalist mode of production as eternal laws of human society. Marx, by contrast, made his exclusive and distinctive object of study the specific relations of his time, ‘the ruptured world of industry’ (Marx 1975d, 292); he underlined its transitoriness as one stage produced by history, and set out to investigate the contradictions that capitalism generates which are leading to its supersession.

This different way of understanding social relations had important consequences, chief of which were undoubtedly those concerning the concept of alienated labour. Unlike the economists, or Hegel himself, for whom it was a natural and immutable condition of society, Marx set out on the path that would lead him to reject the anthropological dimension of alienation in favour of a conception that rooted it historically in a certain structure of production and social relations: man’s estrangement amid the conditions of industrial labour.

The notes accompanying Marx’s excerpts from James Mill highlight how ‘political economy defines the estranged form of social intercourse [ die entfremdete Form des geselligen Verkehrs] as the essential and original form corresponding to man’s nature’. Far from being a constant condition of objectification, of the worker’s production, alienated labour is for Marx the expression of the social character of labour within the limits of the present division of labour, which turns man into ‘a machine tool … and transforms him into a spiritual and physical monster’ (Marx 1975c, 217, 220).

In the individual’s working activity is affirmed his specificity, the activation of a need peculiar to himself. But ‘this realization of labour appears as a derealization [Entwirklichung] for the worker’ (Marx 1975d, 272). Labour could be human affirmation, free creative activity, but, ‘presupposing private property, my individuality is alienated to such a degree that this activity is indeed hateful to me, a torment, and rather a semblance of an activity. Hence, too, it is only a forced activity [erzwungene Thätigkeit] and one imposed on me only through an external fortuitous need’ (Marx 1975c, 228).

Marx reached these conclusions by collecting the forceful theories of economic science, criticizing their constitutive elements and inverting their results. This involved him in the most intense and unremitting effort. The Parisian Marx is ravenous for reading material and devotes day and night to it. He is a man filled with enthusiasms and projects, who draws up work plans so huge that he could never have seen them through, and who studies every document relevant to the object of investigation; he is absorbed in the lightning advance of his knowledge and the shifting interests that for a time carry him towards new horizons, further resolutions and still more areas of research.[2]

On the Left Bank of the Seine he planned the draft of a critique of Hegel’s philosophy of law, embarked on studies of the French Revolution in order to write a history of the Convention, and mooted a critique of existing socialist and communist doctrines. Then he threw himself like a madman into political economy, which suddenly took priority over the task of finally clearing the terrain in Germany of the transcendental criticism of Bauer et al., but he interrupted this to write his first finished work: The holy Family. Then another hundred projects: if there was a critique to be done, it passed through his head and through his pen. Yet the most prolific young man in the Hegelian Left had still published less than many of the others. The incompleteness that would characterize all his work was already present in the labours of his year in Paris. There was something incredible about his meticulousness, as he refused to write a sentence unless he could prove it in ten different ways.[3] Marx’s belief that his information was insufficient and his judgments immature prevented him from publishing a large part of the work on which he embarked; it therefore remained in the form of outlines and fragments. His notes are thus extremely precious. They allow us to gauge the scope of his research, contain some reflections of his own, and should be considered an integral part of his oeuvre. This is also true of the Parisian period, when his manuscripts and reading notes testify to the close and indissoluble link between what he wrote and the comments he made on the work of others. [4]

IV. Manuscripts and notebooks of excerpts: the papers of 1844
Despite the incomplete and fragmentary character of the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] of 1844, nearly all readings of them have either ignored or treated as unimportant the philological problems they present (cf. Rojahn 1983, 20). They were first published in their entirety only in 1932 – in two separate editions, moreover. In the collection put together by the Social Democrat scholars Landshut and Mayer, entitledDer historische Materialismus, they appeared under the title ‘Nationalökonomie und Philosophie’ (Marx 1932a, 283-375), while in the Marx Engels Gesamtausgabe they are ‘Ökonomisch-philosophische Manuskripte aus dem Jahre 1844’ (Marx 1932b, 29-172). Not only the name but also the content varies between the two, and there are major differences in the order of the sections.

The Lanshut-Mayer edition, teeming with errors because of poor deciphering of the original manuscript, failed to include the first group of papers, the so-called First Manuscript, and misattributed directly to Marx a fourth manuscript that was actually a resumé of Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit. Nevertheless,too little consideration has been paid to the fact that the editors of the first MEGA too, in choosing their name for the manuscripts, in placing the preface at the beginning – when in reality it is part of the third manuscript – and in organizing the whole set of papers in the way they did, made one think that Marx’s intention had always been to write a critique of political economy and that everything had originally been divided into chapters (cf. Rojahn 2002, 33).

It was further wrongly assumed that Marx wrote these texts only after he had read and compiled excerpts from the works of political economy, [5] whereas in reality the process of composition alternated among different groups of manuscripts, and the corresponding excerpts were spaced out through the whole of his Parisian period, from the articles for the Deutsch-französische Jahrbücher to The Holy Family.

Despite these evident problems of form, despite confusion following the publication of different versions and, above all, the knowledge that much of the second manuscript (the most important but scattered one) was missing from the set, none of the critical interpreters or compilers of new editions undertook a re-examination of the originals. Yet this was especially necessary for the text that weighed so heavily in debates among the various interpretations of Marx.

Written between May and August, the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] are not a work that develops in a systematic or prearranged manner. All the attributions to it of a settled direction – both those that detect the full completeness of Marx’s thought and those that see a definite conception opposed to his scientific maturity[6] – are refuted by a careful philological examination. Not homogeneous or even closely interconnected between their parts, the manuscripts are an evident expression of a position in movement. Scrutiny of the nine notebooks that have come down to us, with more than 200 pages of excerpts and comments, shows us Marx’s way of assimilating and using the reading material that fuelled them.

The Paris notebooks record the traces of Marx’s encounter with political economy and the formative process of his earliest elaborations of economic theory. A comparison of them with his writings of the period, published or unpublished, decisively demonstrates the importance of his reading for the development of his ideas. A list of excerpts from political economists alone would include texts by Say, Schüz, List, Osiander, Smith, Skarbek, Ricardo, James Mill, MacCulloch, Prevost, Destutt de Tracy, Buret, de Boisguillebert, Law and Lauderdale.[7] In the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] and Marx’s articles and correspondence of the time, one also finds references to Proudhon, Schulz, Pecquer, Loudon, Sismondi, Ganihl, Chevalier, Malthus, de Pompery and Bentham.

Marx made his first excerpts from Say’s Traité d’économie politique, transcribing whole sections as he acquired his knowledge of the fundamentals of economics. The only note was added later, on the right side of the sheet in question, which was the place he usually kept for this purpose. His subsequent compilation from Adam Smith’s Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations served a similar goal of familiarizing him with basic economic concepts. In fact, although these are the most extensive excerpts, they contain virtually no comments. Yet Marx’s thought stands out clearly from his montage of passages and, as it often happened elsewhere, from his way of setting alongside one another the divergent theses of several economists. The picture changes, however, in the case of Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and Taxation, where the first observations of his own make their appearance, especially in relation to the concepts of value and price that were still conceived as perfectly identical. This equation of commodity value and price is located in Marx’s initial conception, which conferred reality only on the exchange-value produced by competition and consigned natural price to the realm of abstraction as a pure chimera. As these studies advanced, his critical notes were no longer sporadic but punctuated his summaries and expanded with his knowledge as he moved from author to author. There were individual sentences, then longer remarks, and finally – apropos of James Mill’s Elements of Political Economy – a sustained critical comment on the mediation of money as representing the complete domination of things over human beings; here the relationship between excerpts and Marx’s own text is completely reversed, so that it is the former that are spaced out through the latter.

To underline once more the importance of the excerpts, it should be pointed out just how useful these notes were to him both when he made them and subsequently. In 1844 some of them were published in Vorwärts!, the bi-weekly of German émigrés in Paris, as a contribution to the intellectual education of its readers (see Grandjonc, 1974, 61-2). Above all, given that Marx was in the habit of re-reading his notes at a distance of time, he was able to use these exhaustive materials in the [Grundrisse], as well as in the economic manuscripts of 1861-3, better known as Theories of Surplus-Value, and the first volume of Capital.

To conclude: Marx developed his ideas both in the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] and in the notebooks of excerpts from his reading. The manuscripts are filled with quotations, the first being almost a straightforward collection, and the notebooks of compilations, though largely centred on the texts he was reading at the time, are accompanied with his comments. The contents of both, the formal division of the sheets into columns, the pagination and the time of their composition confirm that the [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] are not a work that stands by itself but part of Marx’s critical production, which then consisted of excerpts from texts he was studying, critical reflections on that material, and drafts that he put on paper, either in one go or in a more thought-out form. To separate these manuscripts from the rest, to extrapolate them from their context, may therefore lead to errors of interpretation.

Only these notes taken as a whole, together with a historical reconstruction of how they ripened in Marx’s mind, really show the itinerary and the complexity of his thought during the highly intense year of work in Paris (cf. Rojahn, 2002, 45).

V. Critique of philosophy and critique of politics
The setting in which Marx’s ideas developed, and the influence they exercised at a theoretical and practical level, merit a last brief remark. Those were times of profound economic and social transformation, and especially of a huge increase in the numbers of the proletariat. With his discovery of the proletariat Marx was able to break up into class terms the Hegelian concept of civil society. He also gained an awareness that the proletariat was a new class, different from ‘the poor’, since its poverty derived from its conditions of work. The task was to demonstrate one of the main contradictions of bourgeois society: ‘The worker becomes all the poorer the more wealth he produces, the more his production increases in power and size’ (Marx 1975d, 271-2).

The revolt of the Silesian weavers in June 1844 afforded Marx a last opportunity to develop his thinking. In the ‘Critical Marginal Notes on the Article “The King of Prussia and Social Reform. By a Prussian”’, published in Vorwärts!, he used a critique of Ruge, and of a previous article of his that had seen the revolt as lacking in political spirit, to take his distance from Hegel’s conception that made the state the only representative of the general interest and relegated any movement of civil society to the private sphere of partial interests (cf. Löwy, 2003, 29-30). For Marx, on the contrary, ‘a social revolution is found to have the point of view of the whole’ (Marx 1975c, 205), and under the stimulus of the Silesian events, with their considerable and explicitly revolutionary character, he underlined the gross error of those who sought the root of social ills ‘not in the essential nature of the state but in a definite state form’ (Marx 1975c, 197).

More generally, Marx considered that those who advocated the reform of society (the objective of socialist doctrines at the time), wage equality and a reorganization of work within the capitalist system were still prisoners of the assumptions they combated (Proudhon) or, above all, did not understand the true relationship between private property and alienated labour. For, ‘though private property appears to be the reason, the cause of alienated labour [ entäusserten Arbeit], it is rather its consequence’; ‘private property is the product, the result, the necessary consequence of alienated labour’ (Marx 1975d, 279). In opposition to the theories of the socialists, Marx proposed a radical transformation of the economic system – a project for which it is ‘capital which is to be annulled “as such” ’ (Marx 1975d, 294).

The closer Marx felt socialist doctrines to be to his own thought, the more strongly he felt the need for clarity and the more sharply he was critical of them. The working out of his own conception led him into constant comparisons between the ideas around him and the results of his ongoing studies. The speed with which he was maturing made this a necessity. The same fate lay in store for the Hegelian Left. Indeed, his judgements of its main exponents were the most severe, since they also represented self-criticism of his own past. The Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, the monthly edited by Bruno Bauer, peremptorily declared from its pages: ‘The critic refrains from involving himself in the sufferings or joys of society … he dissects majestically in solitude’ (Bauer 1844, 32).

For Marx, by contrast, ‘criticism is no passion of the head, … it is not a lancet, it is a weapon. Its object is its enemy, which it wants not to refute but to exterminate. … Criticism appears no longer as an end in itself, but only as a means’ (Marx 1975a, 177). Against the solipsism of ‘critical criticism’,[8] which started from an abstract conviction that to recognize estrangement was already to overcome it, Marx had clearly realized that ‘material force must be overthrown by material force’, and that social being could be changed only by means of human practice. To discover and become conscious of man’s alienated condition meant at the same time to work for its actual elimination. Between philosophy closed in speculative isolation, which produces only sterile battles of concepts, and the criticism of philosophy, which is ‘criticism in hand-to-hand combat’ (Marx 1975a, 182 and 178), there was a difference that could scarcely be greater. It was the gulf separating the quest for free self-consciousness from the quest for free labour.

VI. Conclusions
Marx’s thought underwent a decisive evolution during his year in Paris. He was now certain that the transformation of the world was a practical question, ‘which philosophy could not solve precisely because it conceived this problem as merely a theoretical one’ (Marx 1975d, 302). He bid farewell forever to philosophy that had not reached this awareness and achieved its necessary conversion into philosophy of praxis. From now on, his own analysis took its starting-point not from the category of alienated labour but from the reality of the workers’ wretched existence. His conclusions were not speculative but directed towards revolutionary action (cf. Mandel 1971, 210).

His conception of politics itself changed profoundly. Without adopting any of the narrow socialist or communist doctrines of the time, indeed while taking his distance from them, he achieved a full awareness that economic relations weave the connecting web of society and that ‘religion, family, state, law, morality, science, art, etc. are only particular modes of production, and fall under its general law’ (Marx 1975d, 302). The state has here lost the primary position it had in Hegel’s political philosophy; absorbed into society, it is conceived as a sphere determined by, rather than determining, relations among human beings. According to Marx, ‘only political superstition still imagines today that civil life must be held together by the state, whereas in reality, on the contrary, the state is held together by civil life’ (Marx and Engels, 1975, 121).

Marx’s conceptual framework also changes fundamentally with regard to the revolutionary subject. From an initial reference to ‘suffering humanity’ (Marx 1982, 479), he moves to a specific identification of the proletariat, considering it first as an abstract concept based on dialectical antitheses – the ‘passive element’ (Marx 1975a, 183) of theory –, then, after his first social-economic analysis, as the active element in its own liberation, the only class endowed with revolutionary potential in the capitalist social order.

So, a somewhat vague critique of the political mediation of the state and the economic mediation of money, conceived as obstacles to the realization of a Feuerbachian common human essence, gives way to the critique of a historical relation in which material production begins to appear as the basis for any analysis and transformation of the present: ‘the whole of human servitude [menschliche Knechtschaft] is involved in the relation of the worker to production, and all relations of servitude are but modifications and consequences of this relation’ (Marx 1975d, 280). What Marx proposes is no longer a generic demand for emancipation but a radical transformation of the real process of production.

As he came to these conclusions, Marx was planning various other investigations. After The Holy Family he continued with the studies and excerpts of political economy, outlined a critique of Stirner, drew up a sketch for a work on the state, wrote a series of notes on Hegel, and prepared to draft a critique of the German economist Friedrich List that he went on to complete shortly afterwards. He was unstoppable. Engels begged him to launch his material for the public, because ‘it’s high time, heaven knows!’ (Marx and Engels, 1982, E – Marx Beginning of October 1844, 6). [9] And, before Marx was expelled from Paris,[10] he signed a contract with the Leske publishing house for a two-volume work to be entitled ‘Critique of Politics and Political Economy’. It was necessary to wait fifteen years, however, until 1859, for the first part of his work, the Contribution to a Critique of Political Economy, to see the light of day.

The [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] and the books of excerpts and notes convey the direction he took in the first steps of this enterprise. His writings are filled with theoretical elements derived from predecessors and contemporaries. None of the outlines or works from this period can be classified under a single discipline: there are no texts that are purely philosophical, essentially economic or solely political. What emerges from them is not a new system, a homogeneous whole, but a critical theory.

The Marx of 1844 has the capacity to combine experiences of Parisian proletarians with studies of the French Revolution, readings of Adam Smith with the insights of Proudhon, the Silesian weavers’ revolt with a critique of Hegel’s conception of the state, and Buret’s analyses of poverty with communism. He is a Marx who knows how to gather these different fields of knowledge and experience and, by weaving them together, to give birth to a revolutionary theory.

His ideas, and particularly the economic observations that began to develop during his stay in Paris, were not the fruit of a sudden fulmination but the result of a process. The Marxist-Leninist hagiography that held sway for so long used to attribute an impossible immediacy and an instrumental final goal to Marx’s thought, thereby presenting a distorted and highly impoverished account of his path to knowledge. The aim should instead be to reconstruct the genesis, the intellectual debts and the theoretical achievements of Marx’s labours, and to highlight the complexity and richness of a work that still speaks to any critical theory of the present.

Appendix: Chronological table of notebooks containing Marx’s excerpts and manuscripts during his time in Paris

PERIOD OF COMPOSITION CONTENTS OF NOTEBOOK NACH-LAß FEATURES OF THE NOTEBOOK
Late 1843 to early 1844 R. Levasseur, Mémoires MH The excerpts are contained in pages divided into two columns.
Late 1843 to early 1844 J. B. Say, Traité d’économie politique B 19 Large-format notebook consisting of pages with excerpts in two columns: on the left from Say’s Traité, on the right (drafted after the composition of B 24) from Skarbek and Say’s Cours complet.
Late 1843 to early 1844 C. W. C. Schüz, Grundsätze der National-Ökonomie B 24 Large-format notebook with pages in two columns.

Late 1843 to early 1844

 

F. List, Das nationale System der politischen Ökonomie B 24
Late 1843 to early 1844 H. F. Osiander, Enttäuschung des Publikums über die Interessen des Handels, der Industrie und der Landwirtschaft B 24
Late 1843 to early 1844 H. F. Osiander, Über den Handelsverkehr der Völker B 24
Spring 1844 F. Skarbek, Théorie des richesses sociales B 19
Spring 1844 J. B. Say, Cours complet d’ économie politique pratique B 19
May-June 1844 A. Smith, Recherches sur la nature et les causes de la richesse des nations B 20 Small-format notebook with normal paging.
Late May to June 1844 1844 K. Marx, Arbeitslohn; Gewinn des Capitals; Grundrente; [Entfremdete Arbeit und Privateigentum] A 7 Large-format notebook with pages in three and two columns. The material consists of quotations from Say, Smith,Die Bewegung der Production by Schulz, Théorie nouvelle d’économie sociale et politique by Pecqueur, Solution du problème de la population et de la substance by Loudon and Buret.
June-July 1844 J. R. MacCulloch, Discours sur l’origine, les progrès, les objets particuliers, et l’importance de l’économie politique B 21 Small-format notebook with pages in two columns. Exception is page 11, which contains a prospectus of Engels’s article.
June-July 1844 G. Prévost, Reflections du traducteur sur le système de Ricardo B 21
June-July 1844 F. Engels, Umrisse zu einer Kritik der National-ökonomie B 21
June-July 1844 A. L. C. Destutt de Tracy, Elémens d’Idéologie B 21
At latest July 1844 K. Marx, [Das Verhältnis des Privateigentums] A 8 Text written on large-format sheets in two columns.
Between July & August 1844 G. W. F., Hegel, Phänomenologie des Geistes A 9 (Hegel) Sheet later put together with A 9.
August 1844 K. Marx, [Privateigentum und Arbeit]; [Privateigentum und Kommunismus];[Kritik der Hegelschen Dialektik und Philosophie überhaupt]; [Privateigentum und Bedürfnisse]; [Zusätze]; [Teilung der Arbeit]; [Vorrede]; [Geld]. A 9 Large-format notebook consisting of quotations from Das entdeckte Christentum by Bauer, from Smith, Destutt de Tracy, Skarbek, J. Mill, Goethe’s Faust, Shakespeare’s Timon von Athen, plus various articles by Bauer from the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung. There are also indirect references to: Engels, Say, Ricardo, Quesnay, Proudhon, Cabet, Villegardelle, Owen, Hess, Lauderdale, Malthus, Chevalier, Strauss, Feuerbach, Hegel and Weitling.
September 1844 D. Ricardo, Des principes de l’économie politique et de l’impôt B 23 Large-format notebook with pages in two or rarely three columns. First two pages, with excerpts from Senofonte, are not divided into columns.
September 1844 J. Mill, Elémens d’économie politique B 23
Summer 1844 to January 1845 E. Buret, De la misère des classes laborieuses en Angleterre et en France B 25 Small-format notebook with normal paging.
Mid-September 1844 to January 1845 P. de Boisguillebert, Le détail de la France B 26 Large-format notebook with excerpts from Boisguillebert. Normal paging, except for a few pages in two columns.
Mid-September 1844 to January 1845 P. de Boisguillebert, Dissertation sur la nature des richesses, de l’argent et des tributs B 26
Mid-September 1844 to January 1845 P. de Boisguillebert, Traité de la nature, culture, commerce et intérêt des grains B 26
Mid-September 1844 to January 1845 J. Law, Considération sur le numéraire et le commerce B 26

Mid-September 1844 to January 1845

 

J. Lauderdale, Recherches sur la nature et l’origine de la richesse pubblique B 22 Large-format notebook with pages in two columns[11]

References
1. In this essay the titles of Marx’s incomplete manuscripts, published in various editions, have been placed between square brackets.
2. See the first-hand testimony of Arnold Ruge: ‘He reads a lot, works with uncommon intensity … but does not see anything through to the end, always leaves things halfway to plunge headlong into an endless sea of books’; he works ‘until it almost makes him ill, not going to bed night after night until three or four’. (A. Ruge to L. Feuerbach, 15 May 1844, quoted and translated from Enzensberger, 1973, pp. 23-4.) ‘If Marx does not kill himself with his intemperance, pride and quite desperate work, and if communist extravagance does not annul in him any sensitivity to the simplicity and nobility of form , something should be expected to come of his endless reading and even his dialectic without a conscience. … He always wants to write about the things he has just finished reading, but then he always starts reading and taking notes again. Sooner or later, however, I think he will succeed in completing a very long and abstruse work, in which he will pour forth all the material he has heaped together’ (A. Ruge to M. Duncker, 29 August 1844, in ibid., p. 28).
3. See Paul Lafargue’s report of what Engels said about Autumn 1844: ‘Engels and Marx got into the habit of working together. Engels, who was himself extremely precise, lost patience more than once with Marx’s meticulous attitude and refusal to write a sentence if he was unable to prove it in ten different ways’ (quoted and translated from Enzensberger, 1973, p. 29.
4. On this complex relationship, see Ryazanov 1929, p. xix, which for the first time pointed out how difficult it is to establish a precise boundary between the simple books of excerpts and the notebooks that should be considered true preparatory work.
5. David McLellan, for example, is guilty of this error in McLellan 1972, pp. 210-11.
6. Although they in no way exhaust the never-ending debate on Marx’s text, the reader is referred to two of the most important works that advance these respective positions. Landshut and Mayer were the first to read it as ‘in a sense Marx’s central work … the nodal point in his entire conceptual development’, which ‘in nuce already points ahead to Capital’ (Marx 1932a, pp. xiii and v.); while the second approach is present in Althusser’s famous thesis of an ‘epistemological break’ (Althusser, 1969, pp. 33f.)
7. During this period Marx still read the British economists in French translation.
8. Marx used the epithet in The Holy Family to designate and deride Bruno Bauer and other Young Hegelians working with the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung.
9. Cf. Engels to Marx, 20 January 1845: ‘Do try and finish your political economy book, even if there’s much in it that you yourself are still dissatisfied with, it doesn’t really matter; minds are ripe and we must strike while the iron is hot’ (Marx and Engels, 1982, E—Marx 20/1/1845, p. 17).
10. On pressure from the Prussian government, the French authorities issued an expulsion order against various people around Vorwärts! Marx was forced to leave Paris on 1 February 1845.
11. The chronology includes all the study notebooks that Marx wrote during his stay in Paris from 1843 to 1845. As the exact date of composition of the notebooks is often uncertain, it has in many cases been necessary to indicate the presumed time span, with the chronological order determined by the initial point in the time span. Moreover, Marx did not compile the notebooks one after another, but in writing sometimes alternated between them (e.g., B 19 and B 24). For this reason, it has been preferable to arrange the material on the basis of the different parts of the notebooks. The notebooks containing the so-called [Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts] of 1844 (A 7, A 8 and A 9) directly indicate Marx as the author and include in square brackets the section headings not chosen by him but allocated to the text by later editors. Finally, when the fourth column (Features of Notebooks) does not specify the titles of author’s works quoted by Marx, these always correspond to the ones already mentioned in the second column (Content of Notebooks). With the exception of MH, which is held at Rossiiskii gosudarstvennyi arkhiv sotsial’no-politicheskoi istorii (RGASPI) in Moscow, under the heading ‘RGASPI f1, op. 1, d. 124’, all the notebooks from this period are kept at the Internationaal Instituut voor Sociale Geschiedenis (IISG) in Amsterdam, under the heading indicated in the third column (Nachlaß) of the table.

Bibliography
Althusser, Louis. 1969. For Marx, Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Bakunin, Michail. 1982. Ein Briefwechsel von 1843, MEGA², vol. I/2, Berlin: Dietz.
Balzac, Honoré de. 1972. The History of the Thirteen. Ferragus, Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Bauer, Bruno (ed.). 1844. Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, vol. 6, Charlottenburg: Verlag von Egbert Bauer.
Berlin, Isaiah. 1963. Karl Marx, 3rd edn., London: Oxford University Press.
Enzensberger, Hans Magnus (ed.). 1973. Gespräche mit Marx und Engels, Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp.
Grandjonc, Jacques. 1974. Marx et les communistes allemands à Paris 1844, Paris: Maspero.
Löwy, Michael. 2003. The Theory of Revolution in the Young Marx, Boston: Brill, 2003.
Mandel, Ernest. 1971. The Formation of the Economic Thought of Karl Marx, London: New Left Books.
Marx, Karl. 1932a. Der historische Materialismus. Die Frühschriften. ed. by Siegfried Landshut and Jacob Peter Mayer, Leipzig: Alfred Kröner.
Marx, Karl. 1932b. Ökonomisch-philosophische Manuskripte aus dem Jahre 1844, MEGA I/3, Berlin: Marx-Engels-Verlag.
Marx, Karl. 1975a. ‘Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Law. Introduction’, MECW 3, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart, pp. 3-129.
Marx, Karl. 1975b. ‘Critical Marginal Notes on the Article “The King of Prussia and Social Reform. By a Prussian”’, MECW 3, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart, pp. 189-206.
Marx, Karl. 1975c. ‘Comments on James Mill, Élémens d’économie politique’, MECW 3, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart, pp. 211-228.
Marx, Karl. 1975d. ‘Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844’, MECW 3, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart, pp. 229-346.
Marx, Karl. 1981. ‘Exzerpte aus Jean Baptiste Say: Traité d’économie politique’, MEGA² IV/2, Berlin: Dietz.
Marx, Karl. 1982. ‘Ein Briefwechsel von 1843’, MEGA² vol. I/2, Berlin: Dietz.
Marx, Karl and Engels, Friedrich. 1975. ‘The Holy Family’, MECW 4, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart, 1975, pp. 3-235.
Marx, Karl and Engels, Friedrich. 1982. Letters. October 1844 – December 1851, MECW 38, Moscow: Lawrence & Wishart.
McLellan, David. 1972 Marx before Marxism, rev. edn., Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1972.
Proudhon, Pierre-Joseph. 1890. What is Property?, Humboldt Publishing Company.
Rojahn, Jürgen. 1983. ‘Marxismus – Marx – Geschichtswissenschaft. Der Fall der sog. “Ökonomisch-philosophische Manuskripte aus dem Jahre 1844”’, International Review of Social History, vol. XXVIII, Part 1.
Rojahn, Jürgen. 2002. ‘The Emergence of a Theory: The Importance of Marx’s Notebooks Exemplified by Those from 1844’, Rethinking Marxism, vol. 14, no. 4.
Rubel, Maximilien. 1968. ‘Introduction’ to Karl Marx, Œuvres. Economie II, Paris: Gallimard.
Ruge, Arnold. 1975. Zwei Jahre in Paris. Etudien und erinnerungen, Leipzig: Zentralantiquariat der DDR.
Ryazanov, David. 1929. ‘Einleitung’ to MEGA I/1.2, Berlin: Marx-Engels-Verlag.
Tuchscheerer, Walter. 1968. Bevor “Das Kapital” entstand, Berlin: Dietz.
von Stein, Lorenz. 1848. Der Socialismus und Communismus des heutigen Frankreichs. Ein Beitrag zur Zeitgeschichte, Leipzig: Otto Wigand.

Categories
Journal Articles

Karl Marx

In the last few years, there has been a resurgence of interest on the part of international scholars about a misunderstood author: Karl Marx. His thought, while apparently old-fashioned, in fact still remains indispensable for understanding our present moment and has finally returned to open fields of knowledge. His work, at last freed from the odious function of instrumentum regni which had served as a purposive instrument in the past, becomes the focus of a renewed interest.

The publications of the Marx-Engels-Gesamtausgabe (MEGA²), which resumed in 1998 after the interruption that followed the collapse of the socialist countries, the reorganization of the ongoing edition of his writings, and the transfer of MEGA² headquarters to the Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften, are the most significant examples of this renewed interest in Marx’s work.1 Recently the important target of the publication of the fiftieth volume – the tenth from resumption of publication out of some 114 (each one being made of two books, text and critical apparatus) – was attained.

Many of the latest philological insights of the new historical-critical edition highlight a peculiar feature of Marx’s work: incompleteness. Marx left many more manuscripts than printed writings. This was also the case for Capital, whose entire publication, including all the preparatory works from 1857 onwards, will only finally be brought to its accomplishment in the second section of MEGA2 in 2009.

After Marx’s death, Engels was the first to tackle the challenging enterprise – given the dispersion of the materials, the oddity of Marx’s language, and the illegibility of his handwriting – of publishing the fragmentary Nachlass of his friend. This series of difficulties is especially apparent in the third book of Capital,2 the only one to which Marx was unable, even roughly, to provide a definitive form. The intense editing activity on which Engels focused his efforts in the period between 1885–1894 resulted in a transition from a very rough text, mainly comprising “thoughts recorded in statu nascendi” and preliminary notes, to an organic text of a systematic economic theory. Not surprisingly, this resulted in many errors of interpretation.

Of greater interest, in this respect, is the preceding volume.3 In fact, it contains Marx’s last six manuscripts, spread over the period 1871 – 1882, for the third book of Capital. The most important of these manuscripts is the voluminous Mehrwertrate und Profitrate mathematisch behandelt of 1875, as well as the texts added by Engels in his editorial capacity. These particular manuscripts depict, with unequivocal exactitude, the course traversed by them up to their published version and, throwing into sharp relief the number of interventions in the text – far greater than had till now been hypothesized – they allow us to understand the strengths and weaknesses of Engels in his role as editor. As additional confirmation of the value of this book, it is worth emphasizing that 45 of the 51 texts in this book are published here for the first time.

Philological research of the MEGA2 has also produced important results for the first section, which includes the writings, the articles, and the drafts of Marx and Engels (the texts are presented in the original language as written by the two authors). Two volumes were published recently. The first4 includes two hundred articles and drafts, drawn up by the two authors in 1855 for the New York Tribune and the Neue Oder-Zeitung of Breslau. Various supplementary studies have made it possible to add another 21 texts (which had not been attributed to the two authors as they were published anonymously in the important American Daily), hence as belonging to their most famous writings on European politics and diplomacy, on the international economic crisis, and on the Crimean War; the second volume5 presents some of Engels’s later writings.

The volume contains projects and notes, including the manuscript Rolle der Gewalt in der Geschichte, but without the comments of Bernstein, who had been its first editor; addresses to the organization of the workers’ movement; and a series of prefaces to reprints of writings and articles already published. Among these latter, of particular interest are Die auswärtige Politik des russischen Zarentums, the history of two centuries of Russian foreign politics published in Die Neue Zeit but then forbidden by Stalin in 1934, and Juristen-Sozialismus, written with Kautsky, whose paternity of individual parts is, for the first time, recognized with certainty.

There are also interesting developments in the third section of the new historical-critical edition, which contains the correspondence. The main theme in a recently published volume6 is Marx’s political activity within the International Working Men’s Association, which was set up in London on September 28, 1864. The letters document Marx’s activity in the first years of life of the association, in which he rapidly took on an ever-growing role, and attest to his attempt to combine his public commitment – that after 16 years saw him again on the front lines – with his scientific work. Among the issues debated: the role of trade unions whose importance Marx emphasized by pitting himself, at once, against Lassalle and his proposal to set up cooperatives funded by the Prussian State: “the working class is either revolutionary or nothing”; the polemic against the Owenist Weston, that resulted in the cycle of lectures which were to be collected in 1898, after his death, in Value, Price and Profit; the remarks on the Civil War in the United States; Engels’s booklet The Prussian Military Question and the German Workers’ Party.

The other recent volume of correspondence7 has as its background the economic recession of 1857. This crisis sparked Marx’s hope for a resumption of the revolutionary movement after the stalemate following from the defeat of 1848: “the crisis has been burrowing away like the good old mole it is.” This expectation resulted in a resurgence of Marx’s intellectual productivity and pushed him to delineate the contours of his economic theory “before the déluge,” for which he hoped, but which was again unrealized. It was just in this period that Marx composed the last notebooks of his Grundrisse8 – a privileged standpoint from which to observe the evolution of the conception of the author – and decided to publish his work in instalments, the first of which, Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, appeared in June 1859.

From a personal point of view this phase was marked by a “gangrened misery”: “I don’t suppose anyone has ever written about ‘money’ when so short of the stuff.” We see Marx fighting desperately despite his precarious situation to complete his “Economics”: “I have got to pursue my object through thick and thin and not allow bourgeois society to turn me into a money-making machine.” Nevertheless, though dedicated to completing the second instalment, Marx was never able to bring it to an end and the first book of Capital was only published in 1867. The remain- ing part of his immense project, despite the systematic character it is often given, would only be realized in part and it would remain extraordinarily full of abandoned manuscripts, provisional drafts, and unaccomplished projects.

Faithful companion and damnation of the entire literary production of Marx, this incompleteness is naturally also evident in his early works. The first number of the new series of “Marx-Engels-Jahrbuch,”9 which is entirely devoted to The German Ideology, proves this irrefutably. This book – which anticipates volume I/5 of MEGA2, whose publication is expected in 2008 – contains parts of the manuscript rightly attributed to Moses Hess and, unlike the publications issued so far, will include the papers of Marx and Engels just as they were left by their authors, i.e. without any attempt at reconstruction.

The parts included in the yearbook correspond to “chapters”1 Feuerbach and 2 Sankt Bruno. The seven manuscripts that survived the “gnawing criticism of the mice” are collected as independent texts and put in chronological order. The uneven nature of this text is readily inferred from this edition. In particular, the chapter on Feuerbach is far from complete. Yet on the whole, this volume helps to establish reliable bases for further research on the elaboration of Marx’s thought. The German Ideology, which is sometimes even considered as an exhaustive presentation of Marx’s materialistic conception, has now been put back to its original fragmentary character.

Finally, always as far as the young Marx is concerned, it is worthwhile signalling the re-edition of the collection of Marx’s early works by the social democratic scholars Landshut and Mayer.10 This edition, published in 1932 at the same time as the “first” MEGA, provided the dissemination of the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts and the German Ideology, till then unpublished, despite a number of errors regarding the content and the arrangement of the different parts of the texts and a bad deciphering of the original version.

After many seasons marked by deep and reiterated incomprehension of Marx, resulting from the attempted systematization of his critical theory – given its originally incomplete and non-systematic character– by the conceptual impoverishment which has accompanied its popularization, by the manipulation and censorship of his writings, and the instrumental use of the same for political purposes, the incompleteness of his work stands out with an indiscrete charm, unobstructed by the interpretations which had earlier deformed it, even manifestly becoming its negation.

From this incompleteness re-emerges the richness of a problematic and polymorphous thought and of a horizon whose distance the Marx Forschung (the research on Marx) has still so many paths to travel.