Critique of Interventionism by Ludwig von Mises
A Critique
of Interventionism
by
Ludwig von Mises
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ANTI-MARXISM
In
postwar Germany and Austria, a movement has been steadily gaining
significance in politics and the social sciences that can best be
described as Anti-Marxism. Occasionally its followers also use
this label.
Their point of departure, their mode of thinking and fighting,
and their goals are by no means uniform. The principal tie that
unites them is their declaration of hostility toward Marxism. Mind
you, they are not attacking socialism, but Marxism, which they
reproach for not being the right kind of socialism, for not
being the one that is true and desirable. It would also be a
serious mistake to assert, as do the noisy Social-Democrat and
Communist party literati, that this Anti-Marxism approves of or
in any way defends capitalism and private property in the means of
production. No matter what train of thought it may pursue, it is no
less anticapitalistic than Marxist.
Only
scientific Anti-Marxism is discussed in what follows. The
Anti-Marxism of practical politics will be touched upon only insofar
as it is absolutely essential for an understanding of the
intellectual movement.
1. Marxism
in German
Science
Usually
only those writers can be called Marxists who, as members of a
Marxian party, are obliged to indicate approval in their
writings of the Marxian doctrines as canonized by party
conventions. Their scholarship can be no more than
“scholasticism.”
Their writings aim at preserving the “purity” of the true
doctrine, and their proofs consist of quotations from
authorities—in
the final analysis Marx and Engels. Again and again they conclude
that “bourgeois” science has completely collapsed, and that
truth
can be sought only in Marxism. Every piece of writing then closes
with the reassuring remark that in the future socialistic paradise
all social problems will find a very satisfactory solution.
These
Marxian writings are significant only inasmuch as they have promoted
the careers of their authors. They have nothing whatsoever to do with
science, and, as shall be shown, not even with German science that is
so greatly influenced by the doctrines of Marx. Not a single
thought has emerged from the voluminous writings of the epigones.
Nothing remains but horrible waste and incessant repetition. The
great struggles that shook the Marxian parties—on revisionism,
dictatorship, et cetera—were not scientific; they were purely
political discussions. The scientific methods used to conduct them
were wholly barren in the eyes of every nonscholastic. Only Marx and
Engels, not one of their epigones, have affected German science.
During
the 1870s and 1880s State and Chair Socialism came to power in
Germany. Classical economics had left the stage. The Austrians,
scorned as eccentrics, were the only writers who contributed to
modern economics, which, like Western sociology,
at first remained wholly unknown. Besides, both were suspected
of Manchesterism. Only historical and descriptive-statistical
compositions were permissible, and a “social”
conviction,
i.e., Socialism of the Chair, was the most important requirement for
scholarly recognition. In spite of, and perhaps because of, this
affinity, the Socialists of the Chair opposed Social Democracy. They
barely paid attention to Marx and Engels, who were considered
too “doctrinaire.”
This
began to change when a new generation came along, pupils of the men
who, in 1872, had founded the Association for Social Policy.
This generation had never been exposed to university lectures on
theoretical economics. It knew the classical economists by name only
and was convinced that they had been vanquished by Schmoller.
Very few had ever read or even seen the works of Ricardo or Mill. But
they had to read Marx and Engels, which became all the more necessary
as they had to cope with the growing Social Democracy. They were
writing books in order to refute Marx. As a result of such efforts,
they themselves, and their readers, fell under the influence of
Marxian ideas. Because of their ignorance in all economic and
sociological theory, they were utterly defenseless against the
doctrines of Marx. They rejected the harshest political demands of
Marx and Engels, but adopted the theories in milder form.
This
Marxism of the pupils soon reacted on the teachers. In his article
“Economy, Economics and Economic Method,”
Schmoller mentions that Jevons “correctly” said of
Ricardo
that “he put the wagon of political economy on the wrong
track.”
With visible satisfaction Schmoller then adds that Hasbach observed
that “it was the very track which the English bourgeoisie wanted
to
take.” For a long time during the fight of the German Historical
School against the narrow-mindedness of Ricardo, Schmoller
continues
“many followers of the old school” believed they were
walking in
the methodological footsteps of Adam Smith. Thus many were not aware
“that their theories had become narrow class doctrines.”
Socialism, according to Schmoller, can be denied “neither
justification for existence nor some good effects.” “Born
as a
philosophy of social misery, it represents a branch of science
that suits the interests of workers, in the same way as the
post-Adam Smith natural philosophy had become a theory serving
the interests of capitalists.”
We
can clearly see how strongly Marxian notions have permeated
Schmoller’s ideas of the historical development of economic
systems. They are even stronger with Lexis, whose interest theory,
according to Engels, is “merely a paraphrase of that of
Marx.”
Böhm-Bawerk, who agreed with this Engels judgment,
observed (in 1900) that Dietzel’s and Stolzmann’s interest
theories are also closely related to Lexis’ opinion, and that we
often encounter similar thoughts and pronouncements in contemporary
economic literature as well. It seems to be “a trend of thought
that is coming into fashion.”
In
economics, this fashion did not last too long. For the generation of
men who had been the pupils of the founders of the younger Historical
School, Marx was the economic theorist par excellence. But when some
pupils of these pupils began to turn their attention to the
problems of theoretical economics, Marx’s reputation as a
theorist quickly vanished. Finally, the achievements of
theoretical economics abroad and in Austria during the last two
decades were recognized in Germany; and it was seen how small
and insignificant a position Marx occupies in the history of
economics.
However,
the influence of Marxism on German sociology has continued to grow.
In sociology, more so than in economics, the Germans ignored the
achievements of the West. As they began rather late to deal with
sociological problems they knew only one ideology: the Marxian
philosophy of history and the doctrine of class warfare. It became
the starting point for German sociological thought and, through
the problems it posed, greatly influenced even those writers who
strove to reject it most vigorously. The majority did not repudiate
the doctrine itself, but merely its political and practical
consequences. In most cases they characterized the Marxian doctrine
either as exaggerated, or going too far, or too one-sided, and
therefore sought to complete it by adding new racial and
nationalistic doctrines. The basic insufficiency of the Marxian
set of problems and the failure of all attempts at solving them were
not seen at all. They embarked upon historical research into the
origin of the Marxian social philosophy, but ignored those few
possibly defensible thoughts earlier elaborated much more
concisely in France and England by such men as Taine and Buckle.
Moreover, their main interest then focused upon a problem utterly
insignificant for science—the famous doctrine of the
“withering
away” of the state. In this case, as with many of their other
doctrines, Marx and Engels merely meant to find a slogan for
agitation. On the one hand they wanted to fight anarchism, and on the
other hand they sought to demonstrate that the
“nationalization”
of the means of production demanded by socialism had nothing in
common with the nationalization and municipalization demanded by
state and municipal socialism. It was understandable from the po[i]nt
of view of party politics that the etatist critique of Marxism aimed
especially at this point. It seemed so inviting to reveal the
inner contradiction of the Marxian social doctrine, and to confront
“the enemies of the state,” Marx and Engels, with a
believer in
the state, Lassalle.
The
fact that German science had rejected the utilitarian social doctrine
of the eighteenth century explains the success of Marxian social
doctrine in Germany.
The
theological-metaphysical social doctrine explains and postulates
society from a point of view that lies beyond human experience.
God, or “nature,” or an objective value, want society in a
certain form to reach a desired destiny. Man must follow this
command. It is assumed that submission to the social body
imposes sacrifices on the individual, for which he will receive no
compensation other than the awareness that he has acted well, and
perhaps will be rewarded in another world. The theological
doctrines and some metaphysical doctrines trust that providence will
guide willing men on their proper paths, and force the recalcitrants
through blessed men or institutions acting on behalf of the reigning
God.
Individualism
opposes such a social doctrine. It demands to know from both the
religious and the metaphysical positions why the individual is
to be sacrificed to society. The ensuing argument that touches the
foundation of the theological-metaphysical social philosophy,
corresponds to the distinction so popular in Germany between the
collectivistic (universalistic) social doctrine and the
individualistic doctrine.
But it is a crucial mistake to believe that this
classification has made room for all conceivable social
doctrines. It has especially failed to affect modern social
philosophy that was built on eighteenth century utilitarianism.
The
utilitarian social doctrine does not engage in metaphysics, but
takes as its point of departure the established fact that all living
beings affirm their will to live and grow. The higher productivity of
labor performed in division of labor, when compared with
isolated action, is ever more uniting individuals to
association. Society is division and association of labor. In
the final analysis, there is no conflict of interest between society
and the individual, as everyone can pursue his interests more
efficiently in society than in isolation. The sacrifices the
individual makes to society are merely temporary, surrendering a
small advantage in order to attain a greater one. This is the essence
of the often cited doctrine of the harmony of interests.
The
etatistic and socialistic critique never understood the
“preestablished harmony” of the free trade school from
Smith to
Bastiat. Its theological appearance is not essential for the
doctrine. Utilitarian sociology seeks to explain the development of
society since man’s presumably hermitic existence in
prehistoric times, or since his less developed cooperation in known
history. It seeks to explain man’s social ties throughout
history, and hopefully his future progress toward association,
from principles that are active in each individual. In accordance
with teleological considerations, association is thought to be
“good” and laudable. A faithful soul seeking an
understanding of
social development views the principle of association as a wise
arrangement of God. It could not be different: goodness, namely,
the division of labor now and in the future, emanates from human
nature. It follows that the division of labor is a good means in view
of its good results, even if from different points of view it should
be viewed as evil, weak, or deficient. To Adam Smith, even the
weakness of man was not “without its utility.” And he
concludes:
“Every part of nature, when attentively surveyed, equally
demonstrates the providential care of its Author; and we may admire
the wisdom and goodness of God even in the weakness and folly of
men.”
Obviously, the theistic tone is only an appendage, which
could readily be replaced by the term “nature,” as Smith
does in
other passages of his book where he speaks of “the great Director
of Nature” or just of “nature.” The social
doctrines of
Smith and Kant do not differ in basic attitudes and views. Kant,
too, tries to explain how “nature” guides man to the goal
it has
set for him. The only difference between Smith and Kant consists of
the fact that Smith has succeeded in reducing the formation of
society to factors whose presence in man can be proven empirically,
while Kant can explain society only through an assumption of
man’s
“inclination” to associate and a second inclination to
disassociate, from the antagonism of which society emerges. How it
does so is not elaborated.
Every
teleological view can be dressed in a theistic garb without any
change in its scientific character. For instance, Darwin’s
doctrine
of natural selection can easily be presented in such a way that
the struggle for survival becomes a wise arrangement by the Creator
for the development of species. And every teleological view reveals
harmonies to us, that is, how that which stands at the end of the
development process emerges from the acting forces. The fact
that the conditions cooperate harmoniously only signifies that they
lead to the effect we are to explain. If we desist from calling a
given state of affairs “good,” all tenets of the
doctrine
stay intact. The explanation of how a certain state
“necessarily”
had to result from given conditions that cannot be analyzed further,
is independent of how we may value this state. The attacks on the
thought of “preestablished harmony” do not touch the
substance, merely the wording, of the utilitarian social theory.
Without
change in substance, the social doctrine of Marxism, too, can be
understood as one announcing a preestablished harmony. The
dialectics of social reality necessarily lead the way from the
primeval world to the goal, the socialistic paradise. The
unsatisfactory part of this doctrine is its content; the wording
again is unimportant.
The
opponents of utilitarian social theory like to taunt it for its
“rationalism.” But every scientific explanation is
rationalistic. Whatever the human mind cannot comprehend, the
tools of science cannot conquer. This criticism often ignores
the fact that liberal social theory does not explain formation and
progress of social ties and institutions as consciously aimed
human efforts toward the formation of societies, as the naive
versions of the contract theory explain them. It views social
organizations “as the unconsidered result of specific individual
efforts of the members of society.”
The
misunderstanding that prevails with regard to the harmony doctrine is
repeated in a different form regarding property. We can either hold
to the opinion that the private property order is the superior form
of social organization— that is, we can be liberals—or we
can
believe that the public property order is superior—that is, we
can
be socialists. But he who adheres to the former embraces the doctrine
that the private property order serves the interests of all members
of society, not just those of owners.
We
proceed from the position that there are no insoluble conflicts of
interest within the private property order, even to the recognition
that warlike behavior becomes rarer as the scope and intensity of
social association grows. Wars, foreign and domestic (revolutions,
civil wars), are more likely to be avoided the closer the division of
labor binds men. The belligerent creature, man, becomes industrial,
the “hero” becomes a “trader.” The democratic
institutions
serve to eliminate violent action within the state, as they seek to
maintain or achieve agreement between the wills of those who govern
and those who are governed.
In
contrast to the utilitarians who believe that the private property
order assures greater labor productivity, the older socialists were
convinced that it was the public property system that could bring
higher productivity, which necessitated the abolition of the
private property order. We must distinguish this utilitarian
socialism from the socialism that takes as its starting point a
theistic or metaphysical social theory, and that demands a command
system because it is more suited to realize empirically unproven
values which society is to adopt.
The
socialism of Marx fundamentally differs from these two varieties of
socialism, which he calls “utopian.” To be sure, Marx also
assumes that the socialistic method of production yields higher
labor productivity than the private property order. But he denies
that a solidarity of interest exists or has ever existed in society.
A solidarity of interest, according to Marx, can exist only within
each class. But a conflict of interest exists between the classes,
which explains why the history of all societies has been a
history of class wars.
Conflict
is the moving force of social development to yet another group of
social doctrines. For those doctrines the war of races and nations
constitute the basic law of society.
The
common error of both groups of warfare sociology is their disregard
of any principle of association. They endeavor to show why there
must be war between the classes, races, and nations. But they neglect
to show why there is, or can be, peace and cooperation between the
classes, races, and nations. The reason for this negligence is not
difficult to detect. It is impossible to demonstrate a principle of
association that exists within a collective group only, and that
is inoperative beyond it. If war and strife are the driving force of
all social development, why should this be true for classes, races,
and nations only, and not for war among all individuals? If we take
this warfare sociology to its logical conclusion we arrive at no
social doctrine at all, but at “a theory of unsociability.”
None
of this could be understood in Germany, Hungary, and the Slavic
countries because of a basic hostility toward all utilitarian thought
right from the start. Because modern sociology is based on
utilitarianism and the doctrine of the division of labor, it was
rejected summarily. This is the main reason for the reluctance of
German scholars to cope with sociology, and for the struggle they
waged so tenaciously for decades against sociology as a science.
Since sociology was not welcome, a substitute had to be found.
Depending on their political position they adopted one of the
two “theories of unsociability” which emphasized the
warfare
principle, and completely bypassed any search for a principle of
association.
This
scientific situation explains the success Marxian sociology was
able to achieve in Germany and in the East. When compared with the
doctrines of racial and national warfare it had the advantage of
offering, at least for the distant future, a social order with a
coherent principle of association. Its answer was ever so much
more acceptable because it was optimistic and more satisfactory for
some readers than those doctrines which offered nothing in history
but a hopeless struggle of a noble race against a supremacy of
inferior races. He who sought to go even further in his optimism and
was less exacting scientifically, found the solution to the conflict
not just in the socialistic paradise of the future, but already in
the “social kingdom.”
Marxism
thus swayed German thought in sociology and philosophy of history.
Popular
German sociology adopted, above all, the class concept that is so
basic to Marxian sociology. Spann correctly observed:
“Today,
even so-called middle-class economists are using the term
‘class’ in such a way and in connection with such
questions
as are raised by the historical materialism of Marx.”
Adoption of this concept was accompanied by the Marx and
Engels characteristics of uncertainty, vagueness, and obscurity,
further echoed by the Social-Democrat and Communist parties. During
the thirty-five years between the publication of the Communist
Manifesto and his death, Marx did not succeed in somehow defining
the concept of class struggle more precisely. And it is significant
that the posthumous manuscript of the third volume of Das Kapital
halts abruptly at the very place that was to deal with classes.
Since his death more than forty years have passed, and the class
struggle has become the cornerstone of modern German sociology. And
yet we continue to await its scientific definition and
delineation. No less vague are the concepts of class interests, class
condition, and class war, and the ideas on the relationship between
conditions, class interests, and class ideology.
For
Marx and his parties, the interests of the individual classes are
irreconcilably opposed to each other. Each class knows precisely what
its class interests are and how to realize them. Therefore,
there can only be warfare, or at best an armistice. The thought that
some circumstances may call an end to the struggle before the
socialistic bliss is realized, or that circumstances may moderate it,
is rejected summarily. There is no greater entity that could
encompass the classes and dissolve the class conflicts. The ideas of
fatherland, nation, race, and humanity are mere disguises for
the only real fact, which is the class conflict. However, popular
sociology does not go so far. It could be as Marx describes it, but
it need not be so, and above all, it should not be that way.
Selfish
class interests must be set aside in order to serve the interests of
nation, fatherland, state. And the state, as a principle of reason
above the classes, as realization of the idea of justice, must
intervene and bring about a social condition in which the
ownership class is prevented from exploiting the nonowners, so
that the class struggle of proletarians against owners becomes
superfluous.
With
the doctrine of class warfare, German etatist sociologists
adopted the most important part of the Marxian philosophy of
history. To them, the British parliamentary system with all its
democratic institutions, of which liberal doctrine is singing
praises, are mere expressions of the class supremacy of the
bourgeoisie. As the Germans interpret contemporary British
history, the British state and its instutitions are more
reprehensible for being capitalistic and plutocratic. The British
concept of liberty is contrasted with the German concept. They view
the great French revolution and the movements of the 1830s and 1840s
as class movements of the bourgeoisie. The fact that the
principalities prevailed over the 1848 rebels in Germany is hailed as
most fortunate, as it paved the way for the social rule of the
Hohenzollern kaisers standing above classes and parties. To
German etatists and Marxists, the modern imperialism of the allied
powers springs from the capitalistic propensity to expand. The
etatists also adopted a good part of the Marxian superstructure
theory when they depicted classical economics as a handmaiden of
the class interests of entrepreneurs and the bourgeoisie. An
example given above illustrates how this applied even to
Schmoller.
It
should be noted that no critical examination preceeded the adoption
of the basic Marxian doctrines. The attention of etatists was
directed primarily at blunting the Marxian attack on the state
ideology and its political offshoots during Prussian leadership in
Germany, and at rendering the Marxian doctrines useful for the ideas
of state socialism and conservatism. Etatists did not see the
Marxian problem as a scientific problem, but as a political, or at
best, an economic problem. In politics they contented themselves with
charging Marxism with exaggerations, and sought to demonstrate
that there is yet another solution, indeed, a better solution: social
reform. Their main attack on Marxism did not aim at its economic
program, but at its political program: it placed class interests
above national interests.
Only
a few comprehended that the problems raised by Marxism were
scientific in nature. Sombart was one of the first who as
continuator, renovator, and reformer set out to reshape the Marxian
doctrines. His new work, which afforded me the occasion for this
essay, provides me with the opportunity to deal with him in detail.
Dependence
on Marx is the special characteristic of German social sciences.
Surely Marxism has left its traces as well on the social thinking of
France, Great Britain, the United States, the Scandinavian countries,
and the Netherlands. But the influence that emanated from
Marxian doctrines was incomparably greater in Germany. The fact
that the sociology of utilitarianism was generally rejected in
Germany undoubtedly offers an explanation for this great
influence.
In Italy also, the influence of Marxism was rather significant,
although not so strong as in Germany. But in Eastern Europe, in
Hungary, and in the Slavic countries, it was even greater than in
Germany—that is, it was greater in countries that completely
depended on German thought in spite of their political hostility.
Marxism had swayed Russian social thought, that is, not only the
thinking of the followers of the revolutionary parties openly
fighting czarism, but also the imperial Russian universities.
Altschul, the translator of Gelesnoff’s Fundamental
Economics,
correctly observed in his preface to the German edition,
“In
no other country did Marx’s economic doctrines invade
university
teaching so quickly and influence it so significantly as in
Russia.”
In its hatred of liberalism and democracy czarism itself paved
the way for the Bolshevist ideology through its promotion of Marxism.
2.
National (Anti-Marxian) Socialism
Marxian
socialism is beckoning: “Class war, not national war!” It
is
proclaiming: “Never again [imperialistic] war.” But it is
adding
in thought: “Civil war forever, revolution.”
National
socialism is beckoning: “National unity! Peace among
classes!”
And it is adding in thought: “War on the foreign enemy!”
These
solutions distill the ideas which are dividing the German nation into
two hostile camps.
The
great political problem of Germany is the national one. It appears in
three different forms: as the problem of the linguistically mixed
territories at the borders of German settlement in Europe, as the
problem of German emigration (a creation of German settlements
overseas), and as the problem of foreign trade that must provide
the material support for the German population.
Marxism
did not see these problems at all. It could say only that in the
socialistic paradise of the future there will be no national
struggle. “National hatred is transformed class hatred,”
its
holder is “the middle class,” its beneficiary the
“bourgeoisie,”
proclaim the party literati.
How could there be national conflicts after class distinctions
and exploitation have been abolished?
The
national problem is a world political problem, the greatest world
problem in the foreseeable future. It concerns all nations, not just
the German nation. During the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries, when the English and French formulated modern political
doctrines, it had a different meaning for them than it has
today. The first civilized country for which the national problem
became important in its present form was Germany. It should have been
the task of German political theory to deal with it and find a
solution through practical politics. The British and French did
not know all those problems of nationalism for which the formula of
national self-determination does not suffice. German politics
did face these problems for decades, and should have met the
challenge by finding a solution. But German theory and practice could
only proclaim the principle of force and struggle. Its
application isolated the German nation from the world, and led to its
defeat in the Great War.
Where
the areas in which the German people settled meet with those occupied
by the Danes, Lithuanians, Poles, Czechs, Hungarians, Croats,
Slovaks, Italians, and French, the population borders are not clearly
marked out. In wide sections the peoples are mixed, and individual
linguistic islands, especially urban centers, reach far into
foreign areas. Here the formula of “self-determination of
nations”
no longer suffices. For here are national minorities who fall under
foreign rule if the majority principle determines political
government. If the state is a liberal state under the rule of law,
merely protecting the property and personal safety of its citizens,
the alien rule is less palpable. It is felt more keenly the more
society is governed, the more the state becomes a welfare state, the
more etatism and socialism gain a footing.
For
the German nation a violent solution to the problem is least
satisfactory. If Germany, a nation surrounded by other nations in the
heart of Europe, were to assault in accordance with this
principle, it would invite a coalition of all its neighbors into a
world-political constellation: enemies all around. In such a
situation Germany could find only one ally: Russia, which is facing
hostility by Poles, Lithuanians, Hungarians, and possibly Czechs, but
nowhere stands in direct conflict with German interests. Since
Bolshevist Russia, like Czarist Russia, only knows force in dealing
with other nations, it is already seeking the friendship of
German nationalism. German Anti-Marxism and Russian Super-Marxism are
not too far apart. But various attempts at reconciling German
Anti-Marxian nationalism with the Anti-Marxian nationalism of Fascist
Italy must fail in dealing with South Tirol, just as a reconciliation
of Hungarian chauvinism must fail in dealing with the
West-Hungarian problem.
A
violent solution to the question of border Germans would be less
acceptable for the German nation itself than for its neighbors, even
if there were prospects for its realization. In fact, Germany,
even if victorious on all sides, would need to be prepared for war at
any time, would have to brace itself for another war of submission
through starvation, and would have to prepare its economy for such an
eventuality. This would impose a burden which, in the long run, could
not be borne without serious consequences.
The
trade problem, which Germany needed to solve during the
nineteenth century, grew from a worldwide shifting of production to
areas with more favorable production conditions. If there had
been complete freedom of movement, a part of the German population
would have emigrated, for German agriculture and some branches of
industry could no longer compete with newly opened, more fertile
countries offering more favorable production conditions. For national
political reasons Germany sought to prevent this emigration through
tariff policies. We cannot elaborate here why this attempt was doomed
to failure.
The
migration problem is the third form of the practical political
problem for Germany. Germany lacks territory for its excess
population. And again, the prewar theory of German nationalism
discovered no better solution than violence through conquest of
suitable territory.
In
Europe, tens of millions of people live poorly who would do much
better in America and Australia. The difference in the living
conditions between a European and his descendants overseas continues
to grow. European emigrants could find overseas what their
native countries failed to offer: a place at the banquet of nature.
But they are too late. The descendants of those who, one, two, or
three generations ago chose the New World over Europe, do not welcome
them. The organized laborers of the United States and the British
Commonwealth countries permit no addition of new competitors.
Their labor union movement is not aimed at employers, as the Marxian
doctrine prescribes; they are waging their “class war”
against
European workers whose immigration would reduce the marginal
productivity of labor, and thus wage rates. The labor unions of the
Anglo-Saxon countries favored participation in the Great War in
order to eliminate the last remnants of the liberal doctrine of free
movement and migration of labor. This was their war objective, which
they adhered to completely. Countless Germans living abroad were
uprooted, deprived of their possessions and earnings, and
“repatriated.” Today, strict laws either prohibit or limit
immigration not only to the United States, but even to important
European areas. And the labor unions of the United States and
Australia unhesitatingly would favor a new, more horrible and
bloody world war if it should become necessary to defend the
immigration restrictions against an aggressor, such as the
Japanese or a rearmed Germany.
Here
are insurmountable difficulties for the Marxian doctrines and
the policy of the Communist International. Theorists sought to
escape the difficulties by not mentioning them. It is characteristic
that the copious prewar German literature on economic and social
policy, which again and again dealt with the same matter in tiring
detail, contains no work that could explain the policy of immigration
restrictions. And abroad only a few writers dared touch a topic
that obviously did not harmonize with the doctrine of the
workers’
class solidarity.
This silence, better than anything else, reveals the
Marxian bias in social literature, especially German literature.
When, finally, the international conventions of socialists could no
longer escape dealing with this question, they skillfully
circumvented it. Let us, for instance, read the minutes of the
International Convention of Socialists in Stuttgart, in 1907. It
adopted a lame resolution characterized by the recorder himself
as rather “awkward and hard.” But this should be blamed on
circumstances. A socialistic convention is not held “to
write
novels. Hard realities are colliding, which finds expression in this
hard and awkward resolution.” (This is a euphemistic way of
admitting that something is wrong with the harmonious thoughts
of the international solidarity of workers.) The writer
therefore recommends that “this resolution so painfully
constructed
on the middle of the road be adopted unanimously.” But the
Australian representative Kröner crisply declared, “The
majority of the Australian Labor Party opposes the immigration
of colored workers. As a socialist, I personally recognize the duty
of international solidarity and hope that in time we shall succeed in
winning all nations of the world for the idea of socialism.”
Translated from the Australian to English it means: Make
as many resolutions as you please; we shall do as we please. Since
the Labor Party has come to power, Australia, as is well known, has
the strictest immigration laws against colored and white workers.
The
nationalistic Anti-Marxists of Germany could perform a great
service by solving the emigration problem. The German mind could
develop a new doctrine of universal freedom and free movement that
would evoke an echo with Italians, Scandinavians, Slavs, Chinese, and
Japanese, and which in the long run no nation could resist. But no
beginning has yet been made of what needs to be done, and surely
nothing has been accomplished.
National
Anti-Marxism proved to be unproductive in the very point on which its
greatest emphasis must be placed: the problem of foreign policy. Its
program for the integration of the German nation in the world
economy and world policy does not basically differ from the precept
of German policy in recent decades. In fact, it does not differ from
recent policy more than any theoretical doctrine differs from
the realities faced by the statesman who is kept from his intended
course by his daily tasks. But a violent solution is even less
applicable today than it was in prewar Germany. Even a victorious
Germany would be powerless to face the real problems of the German
nation. In the present state of world affairs, Germany could never
prevail over the opposing national interests of other nations,
that is, it could not acquire overseas territory for German
settlement and open up favorable markets for German industry. Above
all, it could never be safe from a resumption of the war by a new
coalition of enemies.
National
Anti-Marxism is failing as well in providing suitable German policy
for pressing present problems. In their struggle against forced
integration, the German minorities in foreign countries must
demand the most comprehensive democracy because only
self-government can protect them from losing their German
identity. They must demand full economic freedom because every
intervention in the hands of the foreign state becomes a means of
discrimination against the German population.
But how can the German population in the border territories
fight for democracy and economic freedom if the Reich itself
conducts a contrary policy?
National
Anti-Marxism has also failed on scientific grounds. The fact that the
Marxian theories of value and distribution have lost their
prestige is not the achievement of Anti-Marxism, but that of the
Austrian School, especially Böhm-Bawerk’s critique which the
young friends of theoretical economics in Germany could no
longer overlook. Surely, the attempts by some writers to confer
prestige on Marx as a philosopher have little prospect for success,
because, after all, philosophical knowledge in Germany has
reached a level that makes scholars somewhat immune to the
naivetés
of the “philosophy” of Marx, Dietzgen, Vorländer, and
Max
Adler. However, in the field of sociology the categories and
thoughts of Marxian materialism continue to spread. Here,
Anti-Marxism could have solved an important task; but it was content
with attacking those final conclusions of Marxism that appeared to be
objectionable politically, without refuting its foundation and
replacing it with a comprehensive doctrine. It had to fail,
because for political reasons it sought to show that Marxism is
animated by the spirit of the West, that it is an offspring of
individualism—a concept alien to German character.
The
very starting point is fallacious. We already mentioned that it
is not permissible to contrast the universalistic (collectivistic)
with the individualistic (nominalistic) systems of social
doctrine and policy, as set forth by Dietzel and Pribram, and now
advocated by Spann with his nationalistic German Anti-Marxism.
It is also erroneous to view Marxian socialism as the successor
to the liberal democracy of the first half of the nineteenth century.
The connection between the socialism of Marx and Lassalle and the
early democratic program was rather superficial, and was discarded as
serving no further purpose as soon as the Marxian parties came
to power. Socialism is no improvement over liberalism; it is its
enemy. It is illogical to deduce a similarity of the two from an
opposition to both.
Marxism
does not spring from Western thought. As mentioned above, it
failed to find followers in Western countries because it could not
overcome the utilitarian sociology. The greatest difference between
German ideas and those of the West is the great influence of Marxian
thought in Germany. And German thought will not be able to overcome
Marxism until it sheds its hostility toward British, French, and
American sociology. To be sure, it cannot just adopt the
sociology of the West, but it must continue and build anew on its
foundation.
3.
Sombart as Marxist and Anti-Marxist
Werner
Sombart himself proudly confessed that he gave a good part of his
life to fight for Marx.
It was Sombart, not the wretched pedants of the ilk of Kautsky
and Bernstein, who introduced Marx to German science and familiarized
German thought with Marxist doctrines. Even the structure of
Sombart’s main work,
Modern Capitalism,
is
Marxian.
The problem Marx raised in
Das Kapital and other writings is
to be solved again, this time with the means of advanced knowledge.
And as with Marx, theoretical analysis is to be combined with
historical presentation. The starting point of his work is completely
Marxian, but its findings are purported to go beyond Marx. Thus,
he differs from the publications of party Marxists whose
findings are rigidly circumscribed by party doctrine.
Sombart
built his reputation as a Marxist and scholar in 1896 with his little
book Socialism and the Social Movement during the Nineteenth
Century. The booklet saw several editions, and each new
edition gave evidence of the changes in Sombart’s position on the
problems of socialism and the social movement. The tenth
edition, revised, is now available in two imposing volumes.
It is to demonstrate and justify his turning away from
Marxism—but not from socialism. In fact, the two volumes do not
deal with socialism as such, but rather with “proletarian
socialism,” with “Marxism.”
Sombart
deals only with a history and critique of Marxian socialism. He
avoids revealing his own social doctrine, which he briefly touches
upon in a few places. With visible satisfaction he speaks of the old
associations of the Middle Ages—church, town, village, clan,
family, vocation— “which contained the individual, warmed
him,
and protected him like a fruit in its peel.” And with
visible
horror he speaks of that “process of disintegration which
shattered
the world of faith and replaced it with knowledge.”
The ideology of proletarian socialism is seen as an expression
of this disintegration process. And between the lines he is
reproaching proletarian socialism for its express preference for
modern industrialism. “Whatever socialistic critique may have
raised against capitalism, it never objected on grounds that
capitalism has blessed us with railroads and factories, steel
furnaces and machines, telegraph wires and motorcycles, record
players and airplanes, movie theatres and power centers, cast iron
and aniline colors.” Proletarianism, according to Sombart,
merely rejects the social form, not the gist of modern civilization.
And with clear emphasis on his own position he confronts proletarian
socialism with the “preproletarian chimera,” with its
“bucolic”
flavor which always praised agriculture as the most noble vocation
and looked upon agrarian culture as its ideal.
This
infatuation with agrarian society and the Middle Ages deserves our
comment. We meet it again and again in the literature of
nationalistic Anti-Marxism, with variations by individual authors.
For Spann, the leader of this movement, the ideal was a return
to the Middle Ages.
He
who depicts the social institutions and economic organizations
of the Middle Ages as models for the German people, should be aware
that a bucolic Germany could support only a fraction of the
present population even with the greatest curtailment of
expectations. Every proposal that would reduce the productivity of
labor diminishes the supportable population, and, through the
deterioration of the apparatus of production, would weaken the
national defenses that are so important from a nationalistic
point of view. Nor can nationalism seek a solution of the German
problem in a return to an agrarian society. The incompatibility
of the bucolic ideals with a powerful development of national
forces may explain the dark pessimism of the “doom
theories” that
are springing up in various forms.
If
it should be true that the particular ethos of the German nation is
demanding a return to production methods that lead to lower labor
productivity, and that, inversely, the Western nations, the Latin
nations of the South, and Slavic nations in the East think
differently and apply production methods that assure higher labor
productivity, the danger is real that the more numerous and
productive enemies will overpower the German nation. Will the
philosophers of the victors not conclude then that it was lack of
adaptability that prevented the Germans from making use of their
capitalistic methods of production? Will they not look upon the
German mentality as being too poor and unfit for keeping its
spiritual equilibrium in the presence of modern technological
achievements?
Indeed,
it is a gross materialistic feature of otherwise idealistic writers
who believe that some externalities of life are blocking the way to
inner growth and the development of inner strength. He who does not
know how to safeguard his equilibrium when surrounded by motorcycles
and telephones will not find it in the jungle or desert. That
is, he will not find the strength to overcome the nonessential with
the essential. Man must be able to safeguard himself where-ever he
lives and whatever the circumstances should be. It is a sickly
weakness of nerves that urges one to seek harmonious personality
growth in past ages and remote places.
Sombart,
as already mentioned, reveals his social ideal only between the
lines. He cannot be criticized for this. But we must fault him for
not offering a precise definition of the concept of socialism in a
book that seeks to present and analyze a certain kind of
socialism. His discussion of socialistic ideology, which
introduces the work, is its weakest part. Sombart rejects the thought
that socialism is a social order based on public property in the
means of production. Obviously, the concept of socialism would
have to be a social one, or of the social sciences, he argues, and
could not be from a special field of social life, such as the
economy. The emotions accompanying the controversy over socialism
reveal that the term socialism must comprise yet deeper
problems than “economic technology.”
But the definition Sombart then offers must finally
return—although with ambiguity—to the only relevant
characteristic of socialism. After lengthy discussions he
arrives at the conclusion that the idea of socialism always comprises
the following components:
1. The ideal of a
rational condition of society is to be contrasted with a historical
condition that is irrational: that is, an evaluation of social
conditions as perfect or less perfect. Certain features of the ideal
that are common to all kinds of socialism relate to the
anti-capitalistic essence of socialism: socialism obviously
must reject an economy for profit because of its irrational
objectives that spring from its guiding principle. As money
symbolizes the capitalistic economy for profit, it is as such a
favorite target of socialistic critique. All evil of this world comes
from the struggle over the ring of the Nibelungs; therefore,
socialism wants to return the gold to the Rhine. In the manner
socialism opposes the “free” economy it also opposes its
foundation: “free,” i.e., private, property and the
“free,”
i.e., labor, contract. It gives rise to exploitation, the worst
blemish of social life, the eradication of which is an essential
program for all kinds of socialism.
2. Valuation of social
conditions and adoption of a rational ideal necessarily correspond to
the recognition of moral freedom, the freedom to strive for a
realm of objectives with one’s own strength, and the faith in the
possibility of its realization.
3. Ideal and freedom
inevitably give birth to an aspiration for realizing the ideal,
a movement, born in freedom, from the historically given to the
rationally desired. But every confession of socialism means a
renunciation of motive power, that is, from the viewpoint of the
individual it means: obligation, sacrifice, limitation of the
particular.
There
can be only one reason why Sombart chooses this detour, instead of
retaining the proven and only viable definition of socialism:
his aversion toward dealing with the genuine economic problems of
socialism, an aversion that permeates his whole work and constitutes
its greatest deficiency. The fact that Sombart never raises the
question of whether or not a socialistic order is possible and
realizable is even more serious than his renunciation of a clear
definition of socialism. For only this question can provide the
foundation for an understanding of socialism and the socialistic
movement.
But
Sombart does not want to deal with socialism in general; he
wants to analyze proletarian socialism, or Marxism. However, his
definition is unsatisfactory even for proletarian socialism
which, according to Sombart,
is merely an
intellectual sediment of the modern social movement as I have
defined it since the first edition of this book. Socialism and
social movement are . . . the realization of that future social order
that is adjusted to the interests of the proletariat, or the
attempt
at its realization. Socialism seeks its realization in the world
of thought, the socialistic movement in the world of reality.
All theoretical efforts toward revealing the desired goal to the
aspiring proletariat, toward calling it to arms, organizing for
battle, and showing the road on which the goal can be reached, all
comprise what we call modern socialism.
One
thing is noticeable in this definition: it is Marxian. It is no
coincidence that Sombart deems it proper to adopt this definition
unchanged from his first edition, from the time when, by his own
admission, he was still walking in the footsteps of Marx. It contains
an important element from the Marxian world of thought: socialism
suits the interests of the proletariat. This is a specific Marxian
thought that is meaningful only within the framework of the whole
Marxian structure. “Utopian” socialism of the pre-Marxian
era and
the state socialism in recent decades acted, not in the interests of
one class but on behalf of all classes and the collective whole.
Marxism introduced the two axioms that society is divided into
classes whose interests conflict irreconcilably, and that the
interests of the proletariat—realizable through class war
only—are
demanding nationalization of the means of production, in accordance
with their own interests and contrary to those of the other
classes.
This
very thought returns in various places in the book. At one place
Sombart observes that very few influential Marxian writers come from
the proletariat “and therefore are only interested parties.”
And then point-blank: “The proletariat belongs to the
system
of capitalism; the inevitability of hostility toward capitalists
springs from the class conditions of the proletariat. This hostility
assumes certain forms in the social movement: labor unions,
socialistic parties, strikes, etc.”
It cannot be denied that the materialistic philosophy of
history is visible here in full display. To be sure, Sombart does not
draw the conclusion which Marx logically drew in this case: that
socialism is coming with the inevitability of natural law.
According to Sombart, the “science of capitalism”
founded
by Marx introduced “the idea of the regularity of economic life
in
our era.” It reveals “that the realization of any
particular
socialistic demand depends on very real, objective conditions
and that, therefore, socialism may not always be realizable.”
Marx
thus created “scientifically” the thought of resignation
which
logically leads from socialism to social reform.
We need not dwell further on the question of whether
Sombart’s
conclusion is the one that must logically be drawn from the doctrines
of Marx, or whether the opinion of Lenin and Trotsky is the logical
one. It is decisive that Sombart unconsciously continues to
stand on the scientific ground of Marxism. (Sombart drew the
reform conclusion in his earlier writings; this is the
“Sombartism”
of which the orthodox Marxists speak with derogatory gestures, as
they always do when something displeases them.)
Wherever
Sombart seeks to describe capitalism he does so in the framework of
Marx and Engels, often in their own words.
Such
are the characteristics of Sombart’s position on Marxism: while
he
does not embrace the founder’s naively materialistic version of
socialism today, Sombart builds his more refined socialistic
doctrines on the foundation of Marxism. And he draws practical
conclusions other than those of orthodox Marxists. In fact, he does
not oppose socialism in any form.
Sombart
reproaches Marx not for his doctrine of class warfare, but for
its politicalization and the final conclusion Marx draws from the
doctrine: the inevitability of the proletarian victory.
In other words, Sombart does not say that the Marxian
separation of classes does not exist, or that the properly understood
interests of the various layers of population working in a
division of labor do not conflict with each other, but are
harmonious. But he says: Ethics must overcome the conflict of class
interests. Besides the class principle “there are other social
principles—namely those of idealistic nature.” But Marxism
makes
the class concept absolute.
Sombart apparently believes that man must submerge his
class interests and give precedence to higher interests, to national
interests. He reproaches the Marxists for not thinking in terms of
fatherland, for conducting world policies, for advocating class
warfare in domestic policies, and for remaining pacifistic and
antinationalistic in foreign policies.
Sombart
completely ignores the scientific criticism of the Marxian class
doctrine. This is necessary because he wants to ignore utilitarianism
and economic theory and because, in the final analysis, he considers
Marxism as the true science of capitalism. According to Sombart,
“Marx founded . . . the science of capitalism.”
Long ago this science “demonstrated conclusively, that this
economic order contains the essence of the destruction and
dissolution of civilization. Karl Marx was the greatest, if not
the first, harbinger of this knowledge.”
In order to escape the conclusions that must be drawn from
Marx’s theories, Sombart knows nothing better than to appeal
to God and eternal values.
Sombart
is quite right when he professes that it is not the function of
science to provide a “value critique, that is, to reveal the
inferiority of individual words, analyses, and principles of
proletarian socialism.” But he is mistaken when he declares that
scientific critique is “but a discovery of relationships and
their
significance, relationships not only between the various doctrines
and corresponding political demands, but also between the
content of the whole system and the basic questions of intellectual
civilization and human fate.”
That is the position of historicism which is content with pursuing
relationships among scientific theories and between scientific
theories and metaphysical systems of thought, but abstains from
developing scientific theories of its own. A sociological theory,
which Marxism represents in spite of its shortcomings, can be
analyzed only by examining its usefulness for an explanation of
social phenomena. And it can be replaced only with a theory that is
more satisfactory.
It
could not be otherwise. Sombart’s critique of proletarian
socialism rests on a subjective value judgment of what he considers
the “basic values” of the proletariat. Here, world view
meets
world view, metaphysics confronts metaphysics. It is confession,
not perception, and has no bearing on science. Of course, there are
many readers who appreciate Sombart’s work for this very
reason. It does not limit itself to the narrow field of scientific
labor, but offers metaphysical syntheses. It is not mere
scientific research, but the presentation of material permeated with
the spirit and personality of the man and thinker, Sombart. This is
what gives the book its character and significance. In the end it
convinces only those readers who already share Sombart’s
view.
Sombart
does not attempt a critique of the means by which socialism proposes
to attain its ends. And yet, any scientific analysis of socialism
must first examine the thesis of the higher productivity of
socialistic production, and then question whether or not a
socialistic mode of production is possible at all. Nor does
Sombart’s criticism more than touch upon the problem of the
inevitability of socialism.
Sombart’s
book is a special literary phenomenon. It frequently happens
that in a scholar’s lifetime he changes his opinion and in a new
book advocates what he opposed earlier. But it was always a new
book that revealed the intellectual change, as, for instance,
Plato’s Laws which followed his Republic. It is
very
rare, however, that an author reveals his lifelong struggle with
one problem in ever new revisions of the same work, as does
Sombart. Therefore, we must not conclude that the present edition
contains the last version of his statement on socialism. Many years
of labor lie ahead, new editions of Socialism will be needed
not only because previous editions are out of print, but because
Sombart has not yet completed his work on the problems of socialism.
The book in its present form merely represents a stage in
Sombart’s
struggle with Marxism He has not yet freed himself as much as he
thinks he has. A great deal of intellectual work remains to be done.
Sombart’s
inner struggle with the problems of Marxism is symptomatic of the
thinking of many German scholars. Each edition of the book reflects
rather well what the intellectual leaders of Germany have been
thinking of this problem. The changes in his opinion mirror the
changes in the opinion of German intellectuals who have followed his
leadership for a generation.
4.
Anti-Marxism and Science
Anti-Marxism
fully subscribes to Marxism’s hostility towards capitalism.
And it resents Marxism’s political program, especially its
presumed internationalism and pacifism. But resentment does not
lend itself to scientific work, or even to politics. At best it lends
itself to demagoguery.
But
for every scientific thinker the objectionable point of Marxism is
its theory, which seems to cause no offense to the Anti-Marxist. We
have seen how Sombart continues to appreciate Marx as a man of
science. The Anti-Marxist merely objects to the political symptoms of
the Marxian system, not to its scientific content. He regrets
the harm done by Marxian policies to the German people, but is blind
to the harm done to German intellectual life by the platitudes and
deficiencies of Marxian problems and solutions. Above all, he fails
to perceive that political and economic troubles are consequences of
this intellectual calamity. He does not appreciate the importance of
science for everyday living, and, under the influence of Marxism,
believes that “real” power instead of ideas is shaping
history.
We
can completely agree with Anti-Marxism that the recovery of
Germany must begin with overcoming Marxism. But this overcoming, if
it is to be permanent, must be the work of science, not of a
political movement that is guided by resentment. German science must
free itself of the bonds of Marxism by putting behind it the
historicism which for decades has kept it intellectually impotent. It
must shed its fear of theory in economics and sociology and get
acquainted with the theoretical achievements (even those by
Germany) attained during the last generation.
Carl
Menger’s statements of more than forty years ago on modern German
economic literature are still valid today and apply to all the social
sciences: “Scarcely noticed abroad, and barely understandable
abroad on account of its peculiar tendencies, German economics for
decades has remained untouched by serious opponents. With unflinching
confidence in its own methods it often has lacked serious
self-criticism. He who pursued another direction in Germany was
ignored, not refuted.”
Only a thorough study of the works of German and foreign
sociology differing from etatism and historicism could help to
extricate it from the deadlock of prevailing doctrine in Germany.
German science would not be the only beneficiary. Great problems
await their solution that cannot be achieved without German
cooperation. Again in the words of Menger: “All great civilized
nations have their .particular mission in the unfolding of science.
Each aberration of a sizeable number of scholars of one nation
leaves a gap in the development of scientific knowledge.
Economics, too, cannot do without the singleminded cooperation of the
German mind.”
Above
all, German science must make a proper assessment of the
importance of Marxism. It is true, the Marxists and Anti-Marxists
greatly overestimate Marxism as a scientific system. But also
those who deny Marx as the first harbinger of the substance of
the Marxian doctrine raise no objection against the validity of
the doctrine itself. Only he who can see the world without Marxian
blinders may approach the great problems of sociology. Only when
German science has freed itself from the Marxian errors in which it
is enmeshed today, then, and only then, will the power of Marxist
slogans disappear from political life.