Plekhanov, Selected Philosophical Works, Vol. I (OCRed)

Georgi

Plekhanov
Selected
Philosophical
Works
IN FIVE VOLUMES

V o l u m e

PROGRESS PUBLISHERS
Translated from the Russian

Designed by V. Y E R Y O M IN
PUBLISHERS NOTE
This five-volume edition includes the most important and valuable of

Plekhanovs works on philosophy.
The first three volumes contain works written in the defence and substan
tiation of Marxism in the course of the struggle against Narodism, revisionism
and Machism. In the fourth are Plekhanov's best works on Russian philo
sophy and social and political thought, and the fifth consists of works on
literature and art.
The texts of these works have again been checked with the extant manu
scripts in Russian or other languages kept in Plekhanov House, the SaltykovShchedrin State Public Library in Leningrad, and with publications which
appeared during the authors lifetime.
Each volume is provided with an introductory article, notes of a fac
tual character and name and subject indices.
The publication has been prepared by the Institute of Philosophy of the
Academy of Sciences of the USSR with the collaboration of Plekhanov
House and under the editorship of M. T. Iovchuk, A. N. Maslin, P. N. Fedoseyev, V. A. Fomina and B. A. Chagin.
The texts were prepared and the notes composed by Y. S. Kots, I. S. Be
lenky, S. M. Firsova and B. L. Yakobson.
The translation of The Development of the Monist View of History is by
Andrew Rothstein and was originally published in London, 1947, by Law
rence &. Wishart. The translations of Plekhanovs preface to the second
and third editions of the book and of his article A Few Words to Our Oppo
nents were made by the late A. Finebcrg.
The remainder of the works were translated by R. Dixon.
Translation into English. Progress Publishers 1974

First printing 1960
Second revised edition 1974
10104-405
014(01)-74
Printed in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
CONTENTS
V. Fomina, P L E K H A N O V S HOLE IN THE DEFENCE AND SUB

S T A N T IA T IO N OF M A RX IST P H IL O S O P H Y (Introductory
Essay)
....................................................................................................
SELECTED
P H ILO SO PH IC A L W O R K S
Volume
I
SOCIALISM AND THE PO LIT ICA L S T R U G G L E ............................

P r e f a c e ....................................................................................................
49
49
OUR D IF F E R E N C E S ................................................................................
Letter to P. L. Lavrov (In Lieu of P re fa c e )...................................
In tro d u c tio n ............................................................................................
1. W hat We Are Reproached W ith
................................
2. Posing of the Q u e s t i o n ............................................................
3. A. I. Herzen
............................................................................
4. N. G. Chernyshevsky
............................................................
5. M. A. Bakunin
........................................................................
6. P. N. T k a c h o v ............................................................................
7. Results
.......................................................................................
107
107
124
124
127
129
131
148
156
161
Chapter I. A Few References to H i s t o r y ........................................

1. Russian B l a n q u i s m ....................................................................
2. L. Tikhomirov
............................................................................
3. The Emancipation of Labour Group
....................................
4. L. Tikhomirov in the Battle Against the Emancipation
of Labour G r o u p ........................................................................
5. The Historical Role of C a p i t a l i s m ........................................
6. The Development of Capitalism in the We s t ..........................
166
166
169
177
Chapter I I . Capitalism in Russia ....................................................

1. The Home Market
....................................................................
2. Number of Workers
................................................................
3. Handicraftsmen
........................................................................
4. Handicraft Trade and Agriculture ........................................
5. The Handicraftsman and the F a c t o r y ....................................
6. Russian Capitalisms Successes
............................................
7. M a r k e t s ........................................................................................
208
208
213
221
228
231
233
235
Chapter I I I . Capitalism aDd Communal Land T e n u r e ................

1. Capitalism in A g r ic u ltu r e ........................................................
2. The Village Commune
............................................................
3. Disintegration of Our Village C o m m u n e ................................
4. The Narodniks Ideal Village Commune
............................
5. R e d e m p t io n ................................................................................
6. Small Landed Property
........................................................
7. Conclusion ....................................................................................
238
238
240
244
253
263
272
273
Chapter IV. Capitalism and Our Tasks

........................................
1. Character of the Impending R e v o lu t io n ............................
2. Seizure of Power ....................................................................
3. Probable Consequences of a Popular Revolution
. . .
4. L. Tikhomirov Wavers Between Blanquism and Bakuninism
5. Probable Consequences of the Seizure of Power by the
Socialists
....................................................................................
275
275
295
303
318
182
186
195
328
CONTENTS
Chapter V. True Tasks of the Socialists in Russia . .....................
1. Social-Democrats and Man-Handling
. . . . .
.
2. Propaganda Among the Workers
.........................................
330
330
339
Chapter V I. C o n c lu s io n .....................................................................
350
PROGRAM M E OF THE SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC EMANCIPATION

OF LABOUR GROUP
.....................................................................
353
SECOND DRAFT PROGRAM M E OF THE RUSSIAN SOCIALDEMOCRATS .

.................................................................................
358
A N EW CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY, OR Mr. L. T IK H O M IR O V S

G R IE F (Reply to the Pamphlet: Why I Ceased to Be aJ Revolu
tionary) ....................................................................................................
363
From the A u t h o r ..........................................................................

SPEECH AT THE IN TERN A TION AL W O R K E R S ' SOCIALIST
CONGRESS IN PA RIS (July 14-21, 1 8 8 9 ) .....................................
(First V e r s io n ] ................................................................................
[Second Version] . . ............................................................................
FOR THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R SA R Y
OFH E G E L Sj DEATH
363
398
398
399
401
[FOREW ORD TO THE FIRST E D IT IO N (FROM THE TRANS

LATOR) AND P LEK H A N O V S NOTES TO E N G E LS BOOK
L U D W IG F E U E R B A C H A N D THE END OF C LA S S IC A L
G E R M A N P H IL O S O P H Y ]
.....................................................
From the Translator
.
.................................................... ...
[Plekhanovs Notes to Engels Book LudwigFeuerbach...) .
[Notes to the First Edition in the Original Version] .....................
427
427
429
472
B O U R G E OIS OF DAYS GONE BY
477
........................................
THE DEVELOPM ENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y

Preface to the Second and Third E d i t i o n s .........................................
Chapter I. French Materialism of the Eighteenth Century . . .
Chapter I I . French Historians of the R e s to r a tio n .............................
Chapter I I I . The Utopian S o c ia lis t s ............................................
Chapter IV. Idealist German P h ilo s o p h y .....................................
Chapter V. Modern Materialism
.....................................................
Conclusion
........................................................................................
480
480
482
495
508
537
574
669
Appendix I . ONCE A G A IN Mr. M IK H A IL O V S K Y , ONCE M ORE

THE T R IA D
. ............................................................................
698
Appendix I I . A FEW W ORDS TO OUR O P P O N E N T S ....................

Notes
........................................................................................................
Name Index
................................................................................................
Subject Index .
................................................................................
705
738
783
798
PLEKHANOVS ROLE IN THE DEFENCE

AND SUBSTANTIATION OF MARXIST PHILOSOPHY
Georgi V alentinovich Plekhanov, the first Russian Marxist,

was one of the worlds greatest thinkers and publicists. His
activity in the Russian and the international arena in the eighties
and nineties of the last century gave the world outstanding works
on the theory and history of Marxism. In his works he defended,
substantiated and popularised the teachings of Marx and Engels,
developed and gave concrete expression to questions of Marxist
philosophy, particularly the theory of historical materialism:
the role of the popular masses and of the individual in history,
the interaction of the basis and the superstructure, the role of ide
ologies, etc. Plekhanov did much to substantiate and develop
Marxist aesthetics.
His best works on the history of philosophical, aesthetic,
social and political thought, especially on the history of mate
rialism and of philosophy in Russia, are a valuable contribution
to the development of scientific thought and progressive culture.
Lenin ranked Plekhanov among the socialists having the
greatest knowledge of Marxist philosophy. He described his
philosophical works as the best in international Marxist litera
ture.
The services he rendered in the past, Lenin wrote of Plekha
nov, were immense. During the twenty years between 1883 and
1903 he wrote a large number of splendid essays, especially those
against the opportunists, Machists and Narodniks.* Plekhanov
left a rich philosophical legacy which to this very day serves to
defend Marxist theory and the aims of the proletariats struggle
against reactionary bourgeois ideology.
*
Plekhanov began his social, political and literary work at the

end of the seventies, when the revolutionary situation in Russia
was maturing.
* V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 20, p. 358.
V. FOMINA
The Russo-Turkish W ar of 1877-78, which had just ended, in

flicted many hardships on the Russian people. It brought to
light the incurable ulcers of the autocratic and landlord system,
tyranny, lawlessness and widespread corruption, bad supply
of the army and other vices in the m ilitary adm inistrative machine.
A ll this addod to the indignation of the popular masses, who were
cruelly oppressed by tsarism, the landlords and the capitalists.
By this tim e capitalism had already come to dominate in
Russias economy. After Lhe 1801 Reform, feudal relations of
production were gradually replaced by bourgeois relations. Capi
talism asserted itself in industry and penetrated increasingly into
the countryside, where it led to stratification of the peasantry.
The expropriation of the peasants from their lands formed an
anny of unemployed wage-workers for industry and for landlord
and capitalist agriculture. The survivals of feudal relations in
agricultural production, which were fostered by the system of
autocracy and landlordship, and the elements of natural economy
which still existed in separate areas of the country, held up the
growth of the productive forces. Capitalism made its way slowly
and w ith great difficulty in agriculture and left the landlords
in their dom inant position there for m any decades. After the
Reform, small, low-productive, privately owned peasant econo
mies predominated in the countryside, and Russia was still
m ainly agrarian.
The development of capitalism combined w ith the all-power
fulness of the landlords exacerbated the growing antagonism
between the working masses and the ruling classes.
The bulk of the peasantry was doubly oppressed by feudalism
and by capital; they suffered from land hunger, survivals of
feudalism and capitalist exploitation; ruin and misery were their
lot. As a result, the peasant movement against the landlords,
which had subsided somewhat in the late sixties, started to grow
again in the m iddle of (he seventies.
The working class, too, was in a condition of great hardship.
Unbridled capitalist exploitation, low wages, the absence of
legislation on labour protection, the ban on the institution of
workers' organisations, arbitrary police rule all this led to unrest
and spontaneous outbreaks among the workers. The m iddle of the
seventies saw the appearance of the first workers organisations
the South Russian Workers Union and the Northern Union of
Russian Workers which attempted to organise to some extent
the spontaneous working-class movement.
A t that time the working-class movement in Russia was develop
ing independently of the revolutionary Narodnik trend which
set up the Zemlya i Volya (Land and Freedom) organisation and
was then dom inant in the Russian emancipation movement. In
IN T RO D U CT O RY ESSAY
Uie seventies, Narodism was influenced by the revolutionarydemocratic ideas of Belinsky, Herzen, Chernyshevsky and Dobro
lyubov. Despite the lim itations of their outlook, the revolutionary
Narodniks played a great part in the countrys emancipation
movement. They fought selflessly for the emancipation of (he
peasants, for the abolition of the autocracy and the privileges
of the n o b ility , and tried to rouse the peasants to revolt against
the tsarist government. The culm inating point in the revolution
ary Narodniks struggle against, tsarism and the landlords in the
seventies and early eighties was the Narodnaya Volya (People's
W ill) movement. The heroism of the revolutionaries in this
movement and their unstinting devotion to the people received
high praise from Marx and Engels, who noted that a revolution
ary crisis was growing in Russia and that the centre of the
revolutionary movement had begun to shift to Russia. In 1882,
they stressed in the preface to the Russian edition of the Manifesto
of the Communist Party (which Plekhanov translated): Russia
forms the vanguard of revolutionary action in Fairope.*
In the period following the Reform, the Russian revolutiona
ries extended their contacts w ith the West European revolutio
nary movement. In the half century, beginning about the m iddle
of the nineteenth century, revolutionary Russia closely observed
the development of progressive theoretical thought in the West
and learned from the experience of the West European working
peoples struggle. Progressive Russians studied the works of
Marx and Engels; the Manifesto of the Communist Parti) was
published in Russian in 1869 and the first volume of M arxs
Capital in 1872. Russian revolutionary Narodniks P. Lavrov,
II. Lopatin, V. Zasulich and many otherskept up a lively
correspondence w ith Marx and Engels on questions of economic
and political development in Russia, the Russian emancipation
movement and the ideas of socialism.
In the first years of his public activity, G. V. Plekhanov took
part in revolutionary Narodnik organisations.
Plekhanov was born on December 11, 1856, in the village
of Gudalovka, Lipetsk Uyezd, Tambov Gubernia. His father,
Valentin Petrovich Plekhanov, belonged to the gentry and had
a small estate; his mother, Maria Fyodorovna (a relative of Belin
sky), hold progressive views and had a great influence on her son.
On finishing the m ilitary school in Voronezh in 1873, Plekhanov
studied for a few months at the Konstantin Cadets' School in
Petersburg and entered the M ining Institute in 1874.
In 1876, he joined the Narodnik circle The Rebels, which later
merged w ith Zemlya i Volya. He was one of the organisers of the
* K. Marxând F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 100.
10
V. FOMINA
first political demonstration in Russia, which took place in 1876

on the square in front of the Kazan Cathedral in Petersburg w ith
Petersburg workers taking part for the first time. At this demon
stration Plekhanov made a fiery speech indicting the autocracy
arid defending the ideas of Chernyshevsky, who was then in exile.
Prom then on Plekhanov led an underground life. The Petersburg
P ublic Library (now Saltykov-Shchedrin State P ublic Library)
became his alma mater where he look refuge to study.
The young Plekhanov was a passionate admirer of Chernyshevsky
and Belinsky, whom he considered as his true masters and tutors,
lie was amazed at the ideological wealth of Belinskys articles
and was inspired to tight for the people by Chernyshevskys noble
works and revolutionary heroism. It was not fortuitous that
Plekhanov later devoted a number of his writings to the activity
and works of those outstanding representatives of Russian revo
lutionary democracy, Belinsky, Chernyshevsky, Herzen and
Dobrolyubov.
In the early years of his activity Plekhanov was one of the
theoreticians of Narodism. He twice went among the people
as a Narodnik agitator to prepare a rising, for he believed in the
possibility of transition to socialism through a peasant revolu
tion. At the same time, ho took a great interest, as he put it., in the
working-class cause. He conducted study groups for working
men, spoke at workers meetings and helped to carry out strikes,
published articles and correspondence in the journal Zemlya
I Volya, wrote leaflets on the major outbreaks and strikes among
the workers and called on the working people to fight. Plekhanovs
close association w ith the Russian workers proved extremely
fruitful, for it prepared him to understand the historical role J
of the working class in the revolutionary movement. The thorough
study he made of Marxism and of the experience of the workingclass movement in Western Europe enabled him in the early
eighties to understand clearly this role of the working class and
to go over to the standpoint of the revolutionary proletariat.
In the early eighties, following the assassination of Alexan
der II by members of Narodnaya Volya led by Andrei Zhelyabov
and Sophia Perovskaya, years of reaction set in w ith the reign
of Alexander I I I . The wave of revolutionary Narodnik terror was.
crushed. In the nineties, Narodism degenerated to a liberal trend
professing conciliation w ith the tsarist government and renun
ciation of the revolutionary struggle.
Plekhanov was arrested twice (in 1877 and 1878) for his revo
lutionary activity, and increasing persecution compelled him to
emigrate in 1880. By 1882-83 he had become a convinced Marxist,]
and in the late eighties he established personal contact w ith
Frederick Engels.
II
The first Russian Marxist organisation the Em ancipation

of Labour groupwas founded in Geneva in 1883 by Plekhanov,
Zasulich, Deutsch, Axelrod and Ignatov. Its aim was to spread
scientific socialism by means of Russian translations of the works
of Marx and Engels and criticism from the Marxist standpoint
of the Narodnik teachings prevailing in Russia. The Em ancipation
of Labour group laid the theoretical foundation of Russian
Social-Democracy and greatly promoted the growth of political
consciousness among progressive workers in Russia.
Lenin noted that the writings of the Em ancipation of Labour
group, printed abroad and uncensored, were the first systemati
cally to expound and draw all the practical conclusions from
the ideas of Marxism.*
In A pril 1895, Lenin went abroad to establish contact w ith the
Emancipation of Labour group in order to unite all the Russian
Marxists revolutionary work. His arrival was of great impor
tance for the Russian working-class movement. For the first
time the Em ancipation of Labour group established regular
contact with Russia.
W hile in emigration (in Franco, Switzerland and Italy) Plekha
nov, who had made the dissemination of Marx and Engels revo
lutionary ideas the work of his life, was extremely active as
a publicist. He also delivered lectures and wrote papers on various
subjects. As early as 1882 ho translated Marx and Engels M a n i
festo of the Communist. Party into Russian; in 1892 he translated
and published for the first time in Russian Engels pamphlet
Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy
with his own commentaries; he also translated the section C riti
cal Battle against French Materialism from the sixth chapter
of The Holy Fam ily by Marx and Engels.
As early as the beginning of the eighties Plekhanov wrote his
outstanding works on the theory of revolutionary Marxism,
which provided study and educational material for Marxists
in Russia.
M. I. K a lin in , a pupil and colleague of Lenin, recorded Plekha
novs role in that period in the following vivid words:
"In the period of gloomy reaction, at a time when the rankand-file worker was obliged to overcome great difficulties and
make tremendous efforts to obtain even primary education, ille
gal publications written by Georgi V alentinovich were already
circulating among the workers.
These works opened up a new world for the working class,
they called on it to fight for a better future and taught the funda
mentals of Marxism in plain, simple form accessible to all; by
* V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 20, p. 247.
12
V. FOMINA
unshakable faith in the final victory of the ideals of the working

class they bred the assurance that all obstacles and difficulties
on the road to those ideals would bo easily swept away by the
organised proletariat.*
Plekhanov occupied a prominent place and received internation
al recognition among the West European and American socialists
in the late eighties and early nineties of the nineteenth century
as a great theoretician of Marxism and an authoritative figure
in the international working-class movement. For a number of
years he represented the Russian Social-Democratic Labour Party
in the International Socialist Bureau of the Second International,
which he kept informed of the state of affairs in Russia. lie also
took an active part in the work of the German, Swiss, French
and Italian Socialist parties and in the work of the Congresses
and the Secretariat of the Second International.
He wrote numerous articles on Russian and international
themes, critical reviews which in their aggregate embraced a broad
range of subjects on politics, economics, philosophy, history,
literature and art. These appeared m ainly in illegal publications
in Russia and in the socialist press in Germany, Bulgaria, France,
Switzerland, Italy, Poland and other countries.
Plekhanovs criticism of anarchism and anarcho-syndicalism
was of great importance in the ideological struggle for the revo
lutionary principles of the international working-class move
ment.
At the beginning of the eighties,*(when B a k u n in s anarchist
theories considerably influenced educated youth in Russia,
Plekhanov came out against anarchism and its adventurist
tactics. B ut in his criticism of anarchist views he failed to throw
light on the question of the attitude of the proletarian revolution
to the state or of the slate in general, for which ho was criticised
by Lenin.
Not a single West European Marxist raised the banner of the
fight against Bernsteinianism, but Plekhanov did. He also criti
cised the opportunism of M illerand. Bissolati and other socialists.
Ilis struggle in Russia against the opportunist Irend of Economism and the bourgeois travesty of Marxism, legal Marxism ,
is well known. He did no little to unmask the socialist-revolutionaries, too, particularly their in divid ual terrorist tactics.
During the struggle against anli-Marxist trends in the eighties
and nineties, Plekhanov gave great attention to thedissemination
of the ideas of scientific socialism and M arxs economic leaching.
He characterised scientific socialism by opposing it to the utopian
* Izvestia Petrogradskogo
Gorodskogo
No. 40, 12 June (30 May), 1918.
Obshchest vennogo
Upravlenia
13
socialist systems of Oweu, Saint-Simon, Fourier, and the pettybourgeois socialism of Proudhon, the Narodniks, anarchists and
othors. His Augustin Thierry and the Materialist Conception of
History, On Modern Socialism, Scientific Socialism and Religion,
Foreign Review, Preface to Four Speeches by Workers, Home Review
and other writings, not to speak of his widely known works against
Narodism, anarchism, Economism, Bernsteinianism and Struvism, show how thoroughly he studied questions of scientific
socialism.
I
In the works which he wrote against the bourgeois opponents
of Marxism, Plekhanov analysed the social substance of the
views held by the classics of bourgeois political economyAdam
Sm ith and David Kicardo and defended M arxs oconomic teach
ing, especially singling out his revolutionary teaching on
sui'plus-value and capital.
Plekhanov played a great role in the life of the older generation
of Marxists. His authority was enormous in revolutionary circles
in Russia.
From the close of the nineteenth and the beginning of the
twentieth century, capitalism entered a new period in its develop
ment the period of imperialism, the period of revolutionary
upheavals and battles which called for a reconsideration of old
methods of work, a radical change in the activity of the SocialDemocratic- parties, and an all-round croative development of the
Marxist theory as applied to the new historical conditions.
Although ho remained an active figure in the international
working-class movement and defended and substantiated Marxism.
Plekhanov did not clearly grasp the character of the new historical
epoch; he was unable to disclose its laws and specific features,
to generalise the new experience acquired by the working-class
movement or to arm the working class w ith new theoretical
conclusions and propositions. Lenin was the man who was des
tined to fulfil this historic task and to raise Marxism to a new
and higher stage.
In 1903, after the Second Congress of the Russian SocialDemocratic Labour Party, Plekhanov became a Menshevik.
His desertion to the Menshevik standpoint and his inconsistency
in Marxist theory and practice at that time were determined in
no small degree by the influence of reformism, which was wide
spread in the working-class movement in Western Europe. Plekha
nov supported Menshevik views, fought against Lenin and the
Bolsheviks on paramount political questions of Marxism the
role of the proletariat in the revolution and ils tactical line,
the attitude to the peasantry, the appraisal of the 1905 Revolu
tion, the question of the state, etc. Plekhanovs serious theoretical
mistakes in philosophy and his deviation from consistent Marx
14
V. FOMINA
ism on a number of questions were connected w ith his fallin g

off to Menshevism in politics.
But although Plekhanov held Menshevik views on basic ques
tions of politics and the tactics of the working class, he never
theless advocated the maintenance of the Party, and from 1909
to 1912 he opposed liquidationism and stood for the underground
organisation of the Party, supporting Lenin in his struggle for
the Party.
Plekhanov opposed the conference of liquidators in August 1912.
Lenin stressed this and wrote that Plekhanov said outright that
the conference was attended by non-Party and anti-Party ele
ments.*
From 1908 to 1912, when the Bolsheviks led by Lenin waged
a resolute fight against Machism, Plekhanov was the only theo
retician of the Second International to write against Bogdanov
and Lunacharsky and expose Shulyatikov, the vulgariser of
materialism, and others. It was at that time that he wrote his
valuable work Fundamental Problems of Marxism. Plekhanov
severely criticised Croce, Mach, Avenarius, Petzoldt, Windelband, Rickert, Bergson, Nietzsche and many other bourgeois
philosophers and sociologists, and defended the philosophical
foundations of Marxism. During this period he defended the
m aterialistic and emancipatory traditions of progressive Russian
philosophical thought against the Vekhi people and religious
seekers. But after 1912 he becamc a supporter of unity with
the liquidators. Lenin wrote: ...it is a pity that he is now
n u llifyin g his great services in the struggle against the liquidators
during the period of disorganisation, in the struggle against
the Machists at the height of Machism, by preaching what he
himself cannot explain: U nity w ith whom, then? ... and on what
terms?**
During the First W orld W ar Plekhanov adopted a socialchauvinist standpoint. After the bourgeois-democratic revolu
tion in February 1917 he returned to Russia after 37 years in
emigration and went to Petrograd.
Having been m any years abroad, Plekhanov was out of touch
w ith the Russian revolutionary movement. On his return to
Russia he was a captive to the social-reformist and social-chau
vinist theories of the Second International and was unable to
understand the intricate concatenation and peculiarity of social
development in Russia. We know how he attacked the course for
a socialist revolution, steered by Lenin. In his appraisal of the
future of the Russian revolution he proceeded from the Second
* V. I. Lenin, Collected JTorfcs, Vol. 36, p. 195.
** Ibid ., p. 277.
International dogmas of the necessity of economic conditions

for socialism gradually to mature, of an alleged obligatory high
level of culture for the transition to socialism, and so on.
He held that the revolution in February 1917, being a bourgeois
revolution, was to be the beginning of a long period of capitalist
development in Russia. That was why he had a negative attitude
towards the Great October Socialist Revolution, seeing it as
a violation of a ll the laws of history. But, although he contin
ued to deny the necessity for an immediate socialist revolution
in Russia, he did not fight against the victorious working class
and Soviet power. He died on May 30, 1918, in the P itkajarvi
Sanatorium in Finland and was buried in the Volkovo Cemetery
in Petrograd, near the graves of Belinsky and Dobrolyubov.
* * *
The spread of Marxism in the working class and among progres
sive intellectuals at the end of the nineteenth century was hin
dered by the penetration of bourgeois, anti-Marxist theories in the
working-class and revolutionary movement. In the West the
struggle against revolutionary Marxism was waged not only by
bourgeois idealist and eclectic professors (e.g., Brentano, Sombart, Schulze-Gavernitz) but by their followers, the theoreticians
of the Second International, Bernstein, Kautsky, Hochberg and
others, too. In Russia, where the works of Marx and Engels were
then little known in the original, attempts to criticise Marxism
from the bourgeois standpoint, to debase and discredit it openly
or covertly, came not only from the official ideologists of the
landlord and monarchic state and liberal bourgeois professors,
but also from the liberal Narodniks, and then from the legal
Marxists and the Economists.
Great, in the circumstances, was the importance of Plekhanovs
Marxist writings of the eighties and nineties, which were pub
lished in Russia as well as abroad and in which the ideas of Marx
ism were defended and their lofty scientific and revolutionary
content substantiated and brought to light.
In his boundless faith in the victory of Marxist ideas, Plekhanov
courageously and fearlessly opposed all kinds of critics and
distorters of Marxism. He was the first in Russia to give a Marxist
analysis of the erroneous views of the Narodniks, to oppose the
Marxist outlook to the utopias of Narodism and to show the
historic role of the working class of Russia, thereby dealing
a severe blow to Narodism.
Plekhanovs work, Socialism and the Political Struggle (1883),
was highly appraised by Lenin, who called it the first profession
de foi of Russian socialism . Besides a sharp criticism of idealist
16
V. FOMINA
social theories, it gives a b rilliant characterisation of the scienti

fic socialism of Marx and Engels, brings out the profound meaning
of the well-known Marxist propositioni Every class struggle is
a political struggle, and speaks of the necessity of combining the
revolutionary struggle in Russia w ith correctly understood scienti
fic socialism.
This pamphlet of Plekhanovs was translated into Polish and
Bulgarian in the nineties of the last century.
Besides Socialism and the Political Straggle, his subsequent
works, Our Differences (1885) and The Development of the Monist
View of History (1895), also cleared the way for the victory of
Marxism in Russia and were the most im portant theoretical
works of Russian Marxists in that period.
In these writings Plekhanov provided the first creative applica
tion of Marxism to the analysis of economic conditions in Russia
after the Reform and showed the immediate needs of the Russian
revolutionary movement and the political tasks of the Russian
working class. He laid bare the reactionary essence of the socalled socialist views of the Narodniks, which had nothing
in common w ith scientific socialism.
In Our Differences Plekhanov continued the criticism of the
theoretical doctrine of the Narodniks as a whole and particularly
of their economic theory and their erroneous views on the
peasant question in Russia. Lenin, in his W hat the ''Friends of
the People Are and How They Fight the Social-Democrats,
called Plekhanovs Our Differences the first Social-Democratic
work of a Russian Marxist. Engels gave a high appraisal
of it.
The Development of the Monist View of History (1895), one of
Plekhanovs best Marxist works, was written in London, where ;
he went after being deported from France in 1894. Lenin wrote f
that it had helped to educate a whole generation of Russian j
Marxists.
]
There are other books by Plekhanov akin to The Development
of the Monist View of History by their theme. They are: Essays on
the History of M aterialism, which was w ritten in 1894 and pub
lished in Stuttgart in 1896 in German and had enormous success
abroad, and his work For the Sixtieth Anniversary of Hegel's
Death (1891), also first published in German and described
as excellent by Engels, and other philosophical works of later
years.
The Development of the Monist View of History appeared legally
in Russia under the pseudonym Beltov. Because of the censorship,
Plekhanov gave the book, as he put it, the purposely clumsy
name monist w ithout indicating which conception of history
the materialist or the idealistwas meant. The book was translat-
17
od into a number of foreign languages and soon became widely

known, Engels wrote on January 30, 1895: George's book has
been published a l a most opportune time. On February 8, 1895,
he wrote to Plekhanov: In any case, it is a great success that you
were able to get it published inside the country.
In this book Plekhanov dwelt m ainly on questions of the mate
rialist conception of history. In a polemic w ith the liberal Narod
niks M ikhailovsky, Kareyev and others, he set himself the task
of exposing the idealism of subjective sociology.
These works of Plekhanov and others of that period clearly
reflect, his great Marxist erudition and his profound knowledge
of the history of philosophic and social thought. They reveal the
historic preparation of Marxism on the basis of past progressive
social thought, its sources and component parts, and shed light
on major problems of dialectical and historical m aterialism,
political economy and scientific socialism. By his light against
various forms of idealism, particularly positivism and K a n tian
ism. and also economic materialism, Plekhanov contributed
much that was new and original to the argumentation of Marxist
ideas, and gave concrete expression and development to proposi
tions of Marxism.
Plekhanovs best works of the eighties and the beginning of the
nineties the flourishing period in his theoretical work on Marx
ismbefore Lenin founded the League of Struggle for the Em an
cipation of the W orking Class, are included in the first volume of
this edition of his Selected Philosophical Works.
* * *
In fighting against idealism, metaphysics and the reactionary

utopias of Narodnik socialism, Plekhanov defended materialism
in philosophy and history and disclosed the objective nature
of the laws governing social development and the dialectics
of the historical process.
lie considered it. his main task first and foremost to explain
the proposition that Marxism was applicable to the historical
conditions in Russia.
The m ain question in the Narodnik economic theory
was that of the non-capitalist development of Russia, whether
Russia must" or must not" go through the school of capi
talism.
The subjective Narodniks m aintained that Russia was follow
ing a road of her own and that as capitalism was artificially
transplanted into Russia, it was accidental and a decline,
a retrogression, for the exceptional Russian economic system.
It was therefore necessary to hold back, to stop the develop2-01329
18
V. FOMINA
ment of capitalism, to put an end to the breaking up by capi

talism of the traditional foundations of Russian life. This Narod
nik position was reactionary and aimed in essence at preserving
survivals of feudal relations.
Advocating the impossibility of capitalist development in
Russia, the Narodniks attempted to distort the ideas of Marx
and his followers in that country. M ikhailovsky, for example,
stated that Marx had applied his historical scheme uncritically
to Russia and that the Russian Marxists were just as uncritically
copying those ready-made schemes" of Marx and ignoring facts
pointing to Russias exceptional road, distinct from capitalism.
Mikhailovsky, Vorontsov and others m aintained that Marxism
as a theory was applicable in a certain degree to the West
European countries only, but completely inapplicable to
Russia.
In opposition to the Narodnik appraisal of Marxism, Plekhanov convincingly proved that Marxism was fully applicable
to the economic and political conditions in Russia.
In order to bring out all the fallacy of the Narodnik economic
theory, Plekhanov compared the conditions of capitalism s rise
and its historic role in the West w ith the conditions of its devel
opment in Russia, ascertained the general preconditions for Ihe
development of capitalism in various countries and hence drew
the conclusion that it was a mistake to oppose Russia to the
West. He showed the untenability of the Narodniks m yth about
the special character of Russian economic development. Plekha
nov gave a profound Marxist analysis of Ihe economic relation
ships in Russia since the Reform and of the capitalist road of
development of town and country in his book Our Differences.
This work is fu ll of historical facts and statistics describing the
various fields in the economic life of Russia. It shows very well
the penetration of foreign capital into Russia, the ever-growirg
dependence of sm all handicraft industry on commercial capital,
the process of proletarianisation of the craftsmen and the trans
formation of sm all handicraft production into a domestic system
of large-scale production. Capitalism is going its way, Plekha
nov wrote, it is ousting independent producers from their
shaky positions and creating an army of workers in Russia by
the same tested method as it has already practised in the
W est .*
Plekhanov was just as convincing when he revealed the penetra
tion of capitalism in agriculture too, the disintegration of the
foundations of the peasant m/r the village commune (obshchina).
* See this volume, p. 231.
IN TRODU CTORY ESSAY
19
The Narodniks, who were fighting capitalism from the pettybourgeois standpoint, saw the village commune as an indestruc
tible stronghold, a universal remedy for all the evils of capitalism
and the basis for the socialist transformation of Russia, allowing
capitalism to be bypassed. Idealising Ihe pre-capitalist forms
of life, they were completely mistaken in their appraisal of the
actual situation and they argued, Plekhanov said, like metaphy
sicians, who do not understand the dialectic contradictions of
life. They kept talking about a supposed popular production,
free from inner contradictions, and regarded Ihe people as a kind
of rigid mass. They considered historical phenomena metaphysi
cally, apart from 1heir actual development and change.
The Narodniks refused to notice the weakening and disintegra
tion of Ihe village communes. In Our Differences Plekhanov showed
by facts that these communes displayed indubitable v ita lity as
long as they remained w ithin the conditions of natural economy.
They began to disintegrate, not under the influence of circum
stances outside and independent of them, but by virtue of inner
causes, of the fact that the development of money economy and
commodity production litlle by little undermines communal
land tenure .*
Plekhanov was profoundly convinced that Russia was develop
ing along the road of capitalism not, as the subjectivists thought,
because of the existence of any external force or mysterious law
driving her on to that road, but because there was no actual
internal force that could divert her from that road. Capitalism
is favoured by the whole dynamics of our social life, he wrote.
The principal conclusion to be drawn from the analysis of
Russian reality was that large-scale private capitalist production
in Russia was expanding and developing unceasingly while the
Narodnik illusion of a supposed popular production and the
other utopian outlooks were being shattered by life itself.
In his works Plekhanov proved that by the inherent character
of its organisalion the rural commune tends first and foremost
to give place to bourgeois, not communist, forms of social life ....
The communes role w ill he not active, but passive; it is not in
a position to advance Russia on the road to com m unism ...."**
Plekhanovs greatest historic merit was that besides investi
gating the paths of Russias economic development he provided
a Marxist solution to the question of the class forces and the
character of the class struggle in Russia. It was typical of the
Narodniks to idealise the people ; they considered the peasantry
as the main revolutionary force and ignored the role of the prole
* Ibid., p. 241.
** Ibid., p. 330.
2*
20
V. FOMINA
tariat. Plekhanov was the first in Russia lo oppose to their utopia

the doctrine of the historic role of the Russian working class in the
emancipation struggle.
The Narodniks position was based on the erroneous idea that
industry was hardly developing in Russia and that consequently
the inconsiderable worker stratum was not increasing.
Plekhanov showed by convincing arguments why the revolu
tionaries should rely precisely on the proletariat, the growing
force in society, connected w ith the most progressive form of pro
duction, big factory production, and not on the peasantry, who,
although they were more numerous, must inevitably divide, as
commodity production developed, into two hostile camps
the exploiting m inority and the toiling m ajority.*
Plekhanov was the first in Russia to prove that the working
class was to play the chief role in the impending Russian revolu
tion. The in itiativ e in the communist movement can be assumed
only by the working class in our industrial centres, the class
whose emancipation can be achieved only by its own conscious
efforts. **
This conviction that Plekhanov had of the historic future
of the working class of Russia was clearly illustrated in his speech
a t the 1889 International W orking Mens Socialist Congress
111 Paris. He then proclaimed: The revolutionary movement in
Russia can trium ph only as the revolutionary movement of the
workers. There is not and cannot be any other way out for us!***
To the vulgar economists, who attached to the political organi
sation of society an utterly negligible significance, he opposed
the Marxist proposition that wherever society is split into classes
the antagonism between the interests of those classes necessarily
leads them to struggle for political domination. It is, therefore,
a mistake to recommend that the workers should fight only in the
economic field and to ignore the political tasks of the working
class. That, Plekhanov argued, is nothing but the line of renounc
ing revolutionary class struggle, revolution and socialism. The
class, political struggle against tsarism and the bourgeoisie is
the only way to fulfil the task of the historical emancipation
of the working class. This struggle culminates in revolution, the
most powerful manifestation of the class struggle and the means
of achieving the social and economic transformation of society.
Plekhanov contested the Narodnik utopian conception that
Russia was on the very eve of a socialist revolution. The Narod
niks proceeded from the view that there was no bourgeoisie in
*
I b i d ., p. 273.
** I b i d ., p. 330.
* * * Ib id ., p. 399.
IN T RO DU CT O RY ESSAY
21
Russia and that, therefore, the bourgeois revolution would pass

her by, but that the Russian peasantry showed a propensity lo
communism and that, therefore, conditions were favourable for
a popular socialist revolution. In Plekhanovs opinion, socialism
was impossible without the economic preconditions. The impend
ing revolution in Russia could only be a bourgeois one. In his
early works Plekhanov gave serious attention to the peasant
question and thought it indispensable for the workers, who were
eventually to win political freedom, to carry on revolutionary
work and spread the ideas of scientific socialism among the peas
antry.
But as he m aintained that the peasantry as a class was break
ing up, Plekhanov failed to take into account the fact that one
of the primary tasks of the bourgeois-democratic revolution in
Russia was to fight for the abolition of landed proprietorship and
that the peasantry was destined to play an enormous progressive
role in that fight.
In his very first works Plekhanov speaks a number of times
of the passivity, the political apathy and conservatism of the
peasantry. This error showed that he underestimated the revolu
tionary potential of the peasantry and as a result he subsequently
fell into the erroneous Menshevik interpretation of the peasant
question and of the Social-Democrats attitude to the peasants.
At the beginning of the eighties, when the revolutionary pro
letarian movement in Russia was still in its embryonic stage,
Plekhanov was a b rillia n t champion of Marxism. For its time
the programme of revolutionary activity which he set forth
in Our Differences was a considerable step forward in the fight
for the spreading of Marxism in Russia. The members of Blagoyevs
Tochisskys and Brusnevs Social-Democratic circles who were
then doing practical work in Russia and m aintained contact w ith
the Em ancipation of Labour group highly appraised Plekhanovs,
works and drew attention to their significance in spreading revo
lutionary theory during the period of disorder and vacillation.
They requested that the pamphlets {Our Differences and Socialism
and the Political Struggle) be sent in as large quantities and as
soon as possible.
The v ital requirement of that time was the elaboration of a prog
ramme for the Russian Social-Democrats. Plekhanov wrote two
draft programmes, in 1884 and 1887. The first contained a number
of erroneous propositions: the recognition of individual terror,
the cult of heroes and other Narodnik survivals. The Marxist
circles (of Blagoyev and others) in Russia pronounced it unsatis
factory. The second draft was more correct. It said that the aim
of the Russian Social-Democrats was the complete emancipation
of labour from the oppression of capital by the transfer of all
22
V. FOMINA
means and objects of production to social ownership, which would

be possible only as a result of a communist revolution. In his
article A Draft Programme of Our Parly , Lenin expressed
the opinion that there were elements in Plekhanovs draft which
were absolutely indispensable for the programme of a SocialDemocratic labour party.*
Plekhanovs Socialism and the Political Struggle and Our
Differences fulfilled a great historic task. It was under their in
fluence that the first Russian Marxists turned their eyes and
their hopes towards the working class, tried to develop its class
self-consciousness, to create its revolutionary organisation the
partyand aimed their work at helping the working class to rise
to the fight against the bourgeois and landlord regime. Plekhanov
pointed out the task of the Russian revolutionaries the
foundation of a revolutionary working-class party.** Rut not
u n til the middle of the nineties did the formation of a revo
lutionary Marxist party become possible.
In the last ten years of the nineteenth century a new period
in the history of Russian Marxism opened, when the merger of two
great forces the working-class movement and scientific social
ism took place. This new period in the development of Marxism
in Russia is inseparable from the name of V lad im ir Ily ich Lenin
and from the work of the League of Struggle for the Em ancipa
tion of the W orking Class which he founded and which was the
embryo of the Marxist party of the working class in Russia.
* * *
The significance of jPleklianovs activity as an outstanding
Marxist philosopher in the field of theory is not lim ited to his
masterly application of a number of basic propositions of Marxist
theory to the historical condit ions of Russia or to his defence and
.substantiation of Marxism in the fight against its enemies.
In his philosophical works Plekhanov endeavoured to defend,
substantiate and popularise all Marx and Engels new contribu
tions to philosophy. The greatness of dialectical and historical
materialism, Plekhanov stressed, consists in its having overcome
the lim itations of metaphysical materialism and idealism and
explained all aspects of hum an life.
Plekhanov proclaimed that the appearance of Marxs material
ist philosophy was a genuine revolution, the greatest revolution
known in the history of human thought.* * * He considered M arxs
* Seo V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 4, p. 232.
** Ibid ., p. 264.
*** See Vol. II of this edition (Karl Marxs Philosophical and Social
Outlook).
23
materialist philosophy as the inevitable anti natural result of the

development of the whole history of social thought, as a higher
stage in the development of philosophy; he saw Marxs revolu
tionary outlook as the reflection of the class interests of the
proletariat.
Plekhanov m ainly directed his attention to the propaganda
of historical materialism and disclosed its real content; this was
a vital necessity of the time, for the bourgeois opponents of Marx
ism both in the West and in Russia tried to debase historical
materialism to the level of vulgar economic materialism and
replace it by all sorts of non-sciontiiic theoriesracism, M althu
sianism, the theory of factors, the geographical theory and
others, or else they passed over in complete silence the materi
alist conception of history formulated by Marx.
In his Development of the Monist View of History, Plekhanov
poleinised against M ikhailovsky, who had not noticed Marx's
historical theory and, moreover, tried to hush up Marxs masterly
ideas for the benefit of subjectivism. Plekhanov showed that many
experts 011 history, economics, the history of political relations
and the history of culture knew nothing of M arxs historical
materialism and yet the results that they had achieved obviously
testified in favour of M arxs theory. Plekhanov was convinced
that there would be many discoveries confirming that theory.
As to Mr. Mikhailovsky, 011 the other hand, we are convinced
of the contrary: not a single discovery w ill justify the subjective
point of view, either in five years or in five thousand.*
Plekhanov repeatedly wrote that the materialist conception of
history formulated by Marx was one of the greatest achievements
of theoretical thought in the nineteenth century and an epochmaking service rendered by Marx. Nobody before Marx had been
able to give a correct, strictly scientific explanation of the history
<if social life. Marx was the first to extend materialism to the
development of society and he created the science of society.
At the same time Plekhanov stressed that the materialist
conception of history, while being one of the paramount achieve
ments of Marxism, is only a part of the materialist outlook of Marx
and Engels. It is a mistake to see the most im portant element of
Marxism in historical materialism alone. The materialist expla
nation of history presupposes the m aterialist conception of nature.
Plekhanov clearly and convincingly demonstrated the organic
unity of Marx's philosophical, sociological and economic theories,
the close interconnection of the basic propositions of Marxism,
and described Marxism as the integral, coherent revolutionary
world outlook of the proletariat.
* See this
volume,
p.
655.
24
V. FOMINA
The striving to single out the most important in the phenomena

of social life, their m aterial basis, is in striking evidence all
through Plekhanovs exposition of Marx's materialist views of
human society and its history. It is from I his standpoint that he
analyses the philosophical views of materialists before Marx, the
utopian socialists, the nineteenth-century French sociologists
and historians, the views of Comte, Spencer, Hegel, the Bauer
brothers, Fichte, Weisongriin and others, and underlines that
Marxs masterly discovery the materialist conception of history
corrects the radical error of the philosophers and sociologists
before him , who proceeded from idealist premises in their analysis
of society.
Plekhanov shows that Marxs materialist scientific explanation
of the social-historical process derives from one single premise:
the objective basis of social life, the economic structure of society.
Plekhanov thoroughly substantiates the Marxist conception
of Ihe laws governing society. lie is inlorestod in the way the
question of the laws of social development is posed in the teachings
of Marxs historical predecessors, the eighteenth-century French
materialists and the nineteenth-century utopian socialists. lie
stresses that, despite certain isolated materialist guesses, they
remained idealists in their conception of history and were unable
to grasp social developments objective necessity and conformity
to law and hence to roveal the roots of the ideas m otivating
human activity. Plekhanov showed that it was Marxism that,
first made a scientific investigation of the historical process.
Marxism revealed the objective nature of the laws of history,
which work w ith the force of natural laws and with unrelenting
necessity; he showed that changes in social relations, often
unforeseen by man but necessarily resulting from his activity,
take place in accordance w ith definite laws of social life.
Peoples activity, their ideas and views do not depend on
chance; they are subordinate to the laws of historical development,
and in order to discover those laws, Plekhanov wrote, the facts
of h u m an ity s past life must bo studied with the help of Marx's
dialectical and materialist method. O nly he who understands
the pasl, who sees the succession and connection between histor
ical events, their conditionality and not a chaos of fortuities,
can foresee the future.
Plekhanov assessed very highly the role of dialectics in Ihe
life of society. The dialectical method, applied to social pheno
mena. ho pointed out, has worked a complete revolution. We
can say without exaggeration that we are indebted to it for Ihe
understanding of human history as a law-governed process. *
* G. Plekhanov, Works, Russ, od., Vol. V III, p. 129.
25
This moans that the qualities of the social environment depend

just as little ori the w ill and consciousness of man as those of the
geographical environment, Plekhanov said. He emphasised
Marxs thought that it is incorrect to look for the laws of society
in nature.
Plekhanov, it should be noted, did not leave uncriticised (he
even now widespread pseudo-scientific bourgeois theories which
apply biological laws to society and thereby reduce social progress
lo biological evolution. He derided the positivists, the socialDarwinists, all those who dreamed of reforming social science
by means of natural science, by the study of physiological laws.
He called (hem U t o p ia n s . People who consider society from this
standpoint, he wrote, find themselves in a blind alley, for physiol
ogy. biology, medicine and zoology are unable to explain thespecific sphere of social development.
Plekhanov showed and emphasised the distinction between
Marxism and Darwinism. Darwin succeeded in solving the question
of the origin of vegetable and animal species, whereas Marx
solved the question of how the various forms of social organisation
arise. If Darwin was inclined to apply his biological theory to the
explanation of social phenomena, Plekhanov wrote, that was
a mistake. Therefore, when Plekhanov himself wrote in his
Development of the Monist View of History that Marxism is Dar
winism applied to social sciences, he was obviously using an
unfortunate expression which by no means reflected his actual
opinion of the relation between Marxism and Darwinism.
The objective laws of material production, the laws of the class
struggle these are the key to the understanding of the inner
logic of the social process, and of the whole wealth and variety of
social relations. It is here I ha I the causes of social phenomena
must besought. Plekhanov explains that other phenomena of social
life ideology, for instance are also governed by their specific
laws. For the m aterialist, the history of human thought is a lawgoverned and necessary process. The train of human thought is also
subject to its own particular laws. Nobody w ill identify, say, the
laws of logic and those of commodity circulation. I?ut Marxists do
not consider, as the idealists did, that we can seek the ultim ate
cause, the basic motive force behind the intellectual development
of mankind, in the laws of thought. The laws of thought cannot
answer the question: what determines the afflux and character of
new impressions? These questions can be elucidated only by anal
ysing social life and its reflection in man's consciousness.
Plekhanovs defence of Marxist determinism against voluntarism
is important in principle. Marx considered the history of human
society as a necessary law-governed process and at the same timeas the product of human activity. The objective and subjective
V. FOMINA
26
sides of social lift* are interdependent. Historical necessity does

not preclude freedom of action in man. In studying the objective
conditions of the material existence of m ankind, Marxists thereby
study the relations between people, and also their thoughts,
ideals and strivings. The subjective voluntarists' assertion thal
man's w ill and activity are entirely free and independent of social
conditions is untenable. In practice the w ill is only apparently
free; the idea of complete freedom of w ill is an illusion. Freedom
of w ill does not exist of itself it is a result of ihe knowledge of
historical necessity, knowledge of Ihe laws of progress. The free
dom of the individ ual, Plekhanov holds, consists not only in
knowing the laws of nature and history and being able to submit
to Ihose laws, but also in being ablo to combine them in the most
advantageous manner.
11
is just as erroneous, Plekhanov said, to seek the motive
force of historical development outside the practical activity of
hum an beings. Bourgeois historians and sociologists attempted
to ascribe to Marxism an absolute metaphysical determinism,
m aintaining that, according to Marx, historical necessity works
of itself, without any human participation, for inasmuch as the
working of objective necessity is recognised, no room is left,
they say, for free human activity.
Plekhanov completely exposed that falsification of Marxist
views and refuted the standpoint according to which historical
necessity works autom atically; he proved that it is human activ
ity which makes history.
lie skilfully refuted the assertions that people are subject In an
iron law of necessity, that all their actions are predetermined,
and so on. No, ... once we have discovered that iron law, it depends
on us to overthrow its yoke, it depends on us to make necessity
Ihe obedient slave of reason,"* Plekhanov writes, quoting
Marx.
Not only does dialectical materialism leach llia l it is absurd
to revolt against economic necessity, it shows how that necessity
must be made use of practically. It thus rejects the fatalist point
of view and proclaims the great and insuperable force of human
activity, of human reason, which, once it has come to know the
inner laws of necessity, strives to transform reality and make it
more rational. People made and had to make their history
unconsciously as long as the motive forces of historical develop
ment worked behind their backs, independently of their con
sciousness. Once thoso forces have been discovered, once Ihe laws
by which they work have been studied, people w ill be able to
take them in their own hands and subm il them to Iheir own rea* See this volume,
p.
660.
IN T RO DU CT O RY KSSAY
27
son. The service rendered by Marx consists in having discovered

those forces and made a rigorous scientific study of their work
ing.*
Plekhanov made it clear that historical materialism's task
consists in explaining the sum-total of social life. However, in
order to explain lhe whole historical process consistently, one
must remain true to the Marxist principle of first finding out the
very foundation of social life. According to lhe theory of Marx
and Engels, that basis is lhe development of the productivo
forces, the production of material wealth. But in order to produce,
people must establish between themselves certain m utual rela
tions which Marx called relations of production. The Sum-total
of these relations constitutes the economic structure of society,
out of which all other social relations between people develop.
From the standpoint of Marxism, the historical progress is deter
mined, in the final analysis, nol by m ans w ill, but by the devel
opment of the material productive forces. Their development
leads to changes in the economic relations. That is why the study
of history must begin with the study of the slate of the productive
forces in the country concerned, its economy, out of which social
psychology and the various ideologies develop.
In the light against idealism Plekhanov refuted the assertions
made by M ikhailovsky and Kareyev that the efforts of reason
play the decisive role in the development of the productive
forces, the means of production, in the process of creating and
applying the instruments of labour. lie showed that the very
ability to produce tools is developed in the process of action on
nature, in the process of w inning the means of subsistence. By
acting on nature, man changes his own nature. He develops all
his capacities, among them also the capacity of tool-making.
But at any given time the measure of that capacity is determined
by the measure of the development of productive forces already
achieved."**
The indissolubility, the unity of the interrelations between
the productive forces and the relations of production which
Marx established, is called by Plekhanov the basic cause of
social progress. He cloarly sees the dialectics of their develop
ment in the fact that relations of production are the consequence,
and the productive forces the cause. But the consequence in turn
becomes a cause, the relations of production become a new source,
a form of development of the productive forces.
Plekhanov also elucidates, although he not infrequently over
estimates, the influence of naturea natural, and, as he puts
it, most im portant precondition of human historyon the
* Ibid ., p. 422.
** Ibid., p. 587,
28
V. FOMINA
development of society. Thus, in his early works, particularly in

The Development of the Monist View of History, he noted that so
cial relations have an infinitely greater influence on the process of
history than natural conditions. In Essays on the History of Mate
rialism another of his earlier workshe wrote that the m u tu al
influence of the productive forces and the relations of production
is the cause of social development, which has its own logic and its
own laws, independent of the natural environment, and that
this inner logic may even enter into contradiction w ith the
demands of the environment. He speaks in the same spirit of the
indirect influence of climate, of the fact that the historical destiny
of peoples does not depend exclusively on the geographical envi
ronment, for geography is far from explaining everything in ;
history . The relative stability of the geographical environment
compared w ith the variability of the historical destinies of peoples,
Plekhanov writes, confirms this conclusion. This means, he goes^
on, that m an s dependence on his geographical environment is1'
a variable magnitude which changes w ith every new step in I
historical development. He was also correct in asserting that the '
geographical environment promotes or hinders the development
of the productive forces. And yet even in these early works Plekha- J
nov slips into formulations which show that he exaggerates the i
role of the natural, geographical environmenthe explains the
condition of the productive forces by the features of the geographi- i
cal environment. This was a concession to the so-called geographi- I
cal trend in sociology.
J
In his Development of the Monist View of History, he treats popu- "
lation as an integral element in social progress, whose growth,
however, is not the basic cause of that progress. He quotes M arxs
proposition that abstract laws of reproduction exist only for
animals and plants, whereas the increase (or decrease) of
population in hum an society is determined by its economic
structure.
In his works of the eighties and nineties, Plekhanov gives
a Marxist solution to the question of the role of the popular
masses and of the individual in history in connection w ith the
elucidation and substantiation of the historic role of the proletar
iat in the revolutionary class struggle. In 1898, he devoted a spe
cial work to the subject. But even in his earlier works he criticised
the anti-scientific theories of Lavrov, Tkachov, Mikhailovsky
and other Narodniks on the role of heroes in history. Following
the Bauer brothers, they professed subjectivism in the concep
tion of history, ignored the role of the popular masses and of the
classes in history, and considered the intelligentsia as an inde
pendent social force supposedly playing a primary role in the
development of society; in their view, the masses are incapable
29
of conscious and organised activity: I hoy can only subordinate

themselves to and M indly follow the heroes.
The Narodnik ideologists held that historical progress is accom
plished exclusively by critically thinking individuals, as a par
ticular and higher variety of the hum an race. The critically
thinking individual was a hero", the one who carries along the
crowd, as contrasted to the hero. The crowd, as the Narodniks

see it, is a mass alien to every creative element, something in the
nature of a vast quantity of ciphers, which acquire some positive
significance only in the event of a kind, critically th in k in g entity
condescendingly taking its place at their head.* Elsewhere,
IMekhanov noted that the Narodniks give the name .crowd to
millions of producers out of whom the hero w ill mould whatever
he considers necessary.* * This was the extremely harmful cult
of the individual, of the hero", who stands above the masses.
In one of the variants of Essays on the History of M aterialism ,
Plekhanov gave a remarkable explanation of the harm done by the
cull of historical personalities. The actions of these people are
not infrequently considered as the cause of great historical move
ments. It is in this way that the roles of Moses, Abraham ',
Lycnrgus and others assume the incredible proportions which
amaze us in the philosophy of history of Holbach and all the last
century enlighteners'. The history' of the peoples is turned into
a series of Lives of Illustrious Men. That is why religion,
morals, customs, and the entire character of tho people are repre
sented as having been formed by one man acting according to
a pre-considered plan. Thus there remains no trace, Plekhanov
says, of any idea of social science, of the laws on which man
depends in historical development. This point of view, he noted,
has nothing in common w ith science.
Since the Narodnik ideologists as a rule did not trust the masses
and recognised only the single combat of isolated individuals
with the autocracy, they went over, as Plekhanov pointed out,
to lhe pernicious tactics of individual terror, which retarded the
development of tho revolutionary initiative and activity of the
working class and the peasantry. The unsuccessful attempts to
wage the struggle against tsarism by the efforts of individual
heroes alone, divorcement from the popular masses, led the
Narodniks to still more serious errors and made them evolve
towards liberalism. Clearly realising the harmfnlness of the cult
of the individual, of heroes , for the development of a mass revo
lutionary movement. Plekhanov was not content with criticising
the political and theoretical bankruptcy of the Narodnik ideolo
* Ibid., p. 733.
30
V. FOMINA
gists views on this question and deriding their immense conceit;

he at the same time set examples of profound understanding
of the Marxist teaching on the laws of social development and the
role of the masses and of individuals in history.
Mikhailovsky, the Achilles of the subjective school, Plekhanov
wrote, imagines that Marxists must only talk about the self
development of the forms of production and exchange If you
imagine, Plekhanov said to the Narodniks, that, in the opinion
of Marx, the forms of production can develop of themselves ,
you are cruelly mistaken. W hat are the social relations of produc
tion? They are relations between men. How can they develop,
then, w ithout men?* It is the working masses, Plekhanov m ain
tains, who advance the development of production.
W hile, in the view of the subjectivists, Plekhanov wrote, the
hero operates and the producer co-operates, the Marxist view
is that the producers do not co-operate, but operate. The develop
ment of society is achieved only by the operations of the produc
ers themselves.
He proved by examples from social life that history is made by
the masses, the m illions of producers, not by heroes according
to their caprice or fantasy. I t is not the utopian plans of various
reformers, but the laws of production and exchange, which deter
mine the now continually growing working-class movement.**
The subjectivists attribute to outstanding individuals deeds
which only the masses can accomplish; not individuals, but the
popular masses, the classes, play the decisive role in historical
development, in Russias social reorganisation. The subjectivists
and the voluntarists, Plekhanov wrote, cannot rise from the
acts of individuals to the acts of the masses, to the acts of whole
social classes. The Narodniks, like the bourgeois sociologists, are
inclined to see in the political activity of great people the chief
and almost only mainspring of historical development. They
give too much attention to the genealogy of kings and leave no
room for the independent activity of the popular masses.
The attention of historians, Plekhanov wrote, must be centred
on the life of the popular masses. The people must be the hero of
history, he emphasised. The real history of a country is the history
of the people, the history of the citizens. ...N o great step can be
made in the historical progress of m ankind, not only w ithout the
participation of people, but even w ithout the participation of the
great m ajority of the people, i.e., of the masses."***
Plekhanov noted that: So long as there exist heroes who
imagine that it is sufficient for them to enlighten their own heads
* I b i d ., p. 652.
** I b i d ., p. 424.
*** G. Plekhanov, Works, Russ, ed., V ol. V I I I , p. 210.
31
to bo able to lead the crowd wherever they please, and to mould

it, like clay, into anything that comes into Iheir heads, the king
dom of reason remains a pretty phrase or a noble dream. It begins
to approach us w ith seven-league strides only when the crowd'
itself becomes the hero of historical action, and when in it, in
that colourless crowd, there develops the appropriate conscious
ness of self.*
The greatness of Marxs philosophy, Plekhanov wrote, consists
in that, unlike many other philosophical trends, which have
doomed man to inactivity and passive acceptance of reality, it
appeals to his power of creation. Marx called to activity the
proletariat, the class which has a great historical role to play in
modern society. It is to it, the proletariat, the revolutionary class
in the full sense of the word, that the Marxists appeal. The prole
tariat. uses M arxs philosophical theory as a reliable guide in its
struggle forem ancipation. This theory infuses into the proletar
iat an energy hitherto unequalled. The w'hole practical philo
sophy of Marxism amounls to action. Plekhanov called dialectical
materialism the philosophy of action.
Hut in attributing decisive significance in historical development
to the action of the masses, Marxism is nevertheless far from
denying the role of the individual in history, from reducing it
to nil.
An outstanding in div id u al, iri indissoluble contact w ith the
masses and expressing their interests and aspirations, may in
definite historical circumstances play a great role in society by
arousing heroic self-consciousness in the masses; by his progressive
activity ho accelerates the advance of society. Hence ...the
development of knowledge, the development of human conscious
ness, is the greatest and most noble task of the thinking personal
ity. Licht, mohr L ic h t! thal is what is most of all needed....
One should not leave the torch in the narrow study of the intel
lectual. ... Develop hum an consciousness.... Develop the selfconsciousness of the producers.* *
The significance of an outstanding in d iv id u a ls social activity,
Plekhanov stressed, depends on how correctly that individual
understands the conditions of development of society, and is
determined by his nearness to the people, to tho progressive class.
Hut nn great man can impose on society relations which no longer
conform to the condition of the productive forces.
Thus Plekhanov b rillia n tly criticised the idealist cult of the
individual in the m iddle of the nineties and explained the Marxist
teaching on the role of the people and of the individual in history.
*
See this volume,
** fbld.
pp.
661-62.
V. FOMINA
32
Plekhanov's Marxist works still help in tilt* fight to elim inate the
remaining survivals of the cull of the individual.
Substantiating the paramount role of Ihi* people in history,
Plekhanov sought to prove tlial only the revolutionary movement
of the people, of the working class, could overthrow a political
monster such as Russian autocracy and lead to the dictatorship
of the proletariat, to the trium ph of socialism. This was of great
importance to the Russian emancipation movement, in which
Blanquist and anarchist ideas were being spread in Ihe eighties.
Plekhanov defended the idea of the dictatorship of the proletar
iat. in Socialism and the Political Struggle, Our Differences and
other works. He pointed out that the dictatorship of the prole
tariat is ihe first act, the sign of the social revolution. The task
of Ihe dictatorship of Ihe proletariat is not only to destroy the
political domination of the bourgeoisie, it is also lo organise social
and political life. Always and everywhere, he noted, political
power has been the lever by which a class, having achieved
dom ination, has carried out the social upheaval necessary for
its welfare.... *
When he later adopted Menshevik views, Plekhanov, while
not openly renouncing the Marxist principle of the dictatorship
of the proletariat, let himself be influenced by reformist constitu
tional illusions and evaded Ihe answer to concrete practical
questions in the struggle for the dictatorship of the proletariat.
Among the highly important questions of historical material
ism which Plekhanov worked out, a prominent place is given
lo the question of the rise and development of ideology, the origin
of forms of social consciousness and their interaction, the question
of the relation between the political anti ideological superstruc
tures and the economic basis, and so on.
Just as there is nothing rigid, eternal and invariable in nature,
so, in the history of social life, changes in the mode of production
are accompanied by changes in ideas, theories, political institu
tions and the lik e i.e., in the entire superstructure. A ll this
is the historical product of the practical activity of people.
In his works Plekhanov devoted his main attention to defining
how the development of the forms of social consciousness depends
on material production. He criticised in great detail the idealist
theory of self-development of ideologies, and the notion that,
the general condition of intellects and morals creates not only the
various forms of art, literature and philosophy but also the
industry of a given period, the social environment. Plekhanov
convincingly explains that only the materialist conception of
* See
this
volume,
p.
73.
INTKODUCTOItY ESSAY
33
history ran lind the real cause of a given condition of both intel
lects and morals in the production of material values.
In the interaction of society and nature people produce mate
rial values and create the economic basis on which arise the politi
cal system, psychology and ideology. The very direction of intel
lectual work in society is determined in the final analysis by
peoples relations in production. This m aterialist thesis does not
reject cases of other countries ideological and political influence
on the policy and ideology of the country in question. Plekhanov
supplements the study of the interrelations between economy and
ideology w ithin a country, the elucidation of the dependence of
political and ideological development on the economic structure
of society, w ith the study of foreign influences on the cultural
development of one people or another. The French philosophers
were filled w ith adm iration for the philosophy of Locke; but they
went much further than their teacher. This was because the class
which they represented had gone in France, fighting against lhe
old regime, much further than the class of English society whose
aspirations were expressed in the philosophical works of Locke. *
This means that foreign influences cannot do away w ith the main
thing, the fact that the features and peculiarities of the social
ideas in a given country are explained in the final analysis by
the fundamental inner cause of its development the degree of
development of its own economic relations.
No less convincing is Plekhanovs argument in favour of the
.Marxist proposition on the reverse influence of the forms of super
structure on the economy. The dependence of politics 011 econom
ics does not preclude their interaction, the influence of political
institutions on economic life. The political system either promotes
the development of the productive forces or hinders it. The reason
why a given political system is created is to promote the further
development of the productive forces. If the political system
becomes an obstacle to their development it must be abolished.
In societies based on exploitation, the ruling and the suhject
classes are opposed to one another in the production process.
The relations between classes, Plekhanov explains, are first and
foremost relations into which people enter in lhe social process
of production. The relations between the classes are reflected
in the political organisation of society and tho political struggle.
This struggle is the source from which the various political
theories and the ideological superstructure arise and develop.
Only by taking into account and studying the struggle between
the classes can one come to understand the spiritual history of
society, and draw a correct conclusion that in societies divided
* Ibid., p. 628.
3-01329
34
V. FOMINA
into classes there is always a dom inant ideology, which is the

ideology of the dom inant class.
Plekhanovs indisputable services include his b rillia n t refuta
tion of the untenable idea, nevertheless obstinately ascribed to
Marxism, that economic conditions determine spiritual life
wholly and entirely (and not merely in the final resort), and that
any theory can be deduced directly from a given economic condi
tion. This vulgar fiction which describes M arxs historical mate
rialism as economic materialism was spread at the end of the
nineteenth century by M ikhailovsky and other subjective Narod
niks and bourgeois sociologists in the West.
M ikhailovsky is wrong, Plekhanov wrote, to th in k that Marx
ism knows only what belongs to economics, that it breathes
only with the string . Marx never considered the economic
development of a given country separate from the social forces
which, arising from it, themselves influence its further direction.
As regards the development of ideologies, the best experts on eco
nomic development w ill at times find themselves helpless if they
have not a certain artistic sense which enables them to understand,
for example, the complicated process of the development of
social psychology and its significance in the life of society, its
adaptation to economics, its connections w ith ideology. The
great writers Balzac and Ibsen, Plekhanov noted, did much to
explain the psychology of the various classes in modern society.
L ets hope that in time there w ill appear many such artists,
who w ill understand on the one hand the iron laws of move
ment of the string , and on the other w ill be able to understand
and to show how, on the string and precisely thanks to its
movement, there grows up the garment of Life' of ideology."*
Marx, Plekhanov argued, never denied the very great impor
tance of politics and ideology (moral, philosophical, religious
and aesthetic concepts) in peoples life. But he first of all deter
mined their genesis, and found it in the economic relations of
society. Then he investigated how the economic skeleton is
covered w ith the liv in g flesh of social and political forms and
finally and this is the most interesting, the most fascinating
aspecthow human ideas, feelings, aspirations and ideals arise
and develop.
Plekhanov showed the relative independence of ideological
development, thus refuting the illusion of the absolute indepen
dence of ideology, an illusion so characteristic of bourgeois ide
ologists and revisionists. The process by which the ideological
superstructure arises out of the economic basis goes on unnoticed
by man. That is why the lin k between ideological and economic
<I ..V.
35
relations, the dependence of lhe former upon the latter, is not

seldom lost sight of, the former are considered self-sufficient
nnd ideology is erroneously regarded as something which is
independent by its very essence. The relative independence of
ideological development is explained, Plekhanov emphasises,
first of all by continuity in the development of each ideological
form. This relative independence is shown by the fact that the
ideologists of any class adopt an active attitude to the legacy
of ideas from the preceding age and use the achievements of pre
vious generations. The ideologies of evory particular age are
always most, closely connected whether positively or nega
tivelyw ith the ideologies of the preceding age.* The moment
material and spiritual labour part, and opposition arises between
them, special branches of the division of labour in spiritual
production appear. The ideologies become, as it were, segregated
in relatively independent fields w ith the inner tendencies peculiar
to their own development. The existence of these phenomena
proves that the relative independence of ideologies is a reality,
a historical fact.
It is an error, Plekhanov writes, to attribute to Marxism the
thought that the content of all of a given society's ideas can be
explained directly by its economic condition. Ideas which arise
in one and the same society often play completely different roles.
Plekhanovs profound thoughts on the role and significance
of ideas in the development of society are of enormous interest
to this day. In the eighties and nineties of the last century the
Narodniks, whose utopian ideals were completely out of touch
with real life, greatly harmed the revolutionary struggle of the
masses by asserting that ideas and theories are independent of
economic, social life. Exposing the subjectivism of M ikhailovsky
and others, Plekhanov gave an independent and original develop
ment of the Marxist teaching on the role of ideas and theories.
Ideals may be lofty or base, correct or erroneous. From Marx's
point of view, Plekhanov noted, ideas, ideals are always the
reflection of the material conditions of people's existence. The
only correct ideal is that which corresponds to the aspect of
economic reality which lends towards progress. The metaphysi
cian thinks that if a public personality must base himself upon
reality it means that he should reconcile himself w ith it. B ut
the materialist and dialectician points out that life in a class
society is antagonistic. The reactionaries base themselves on
a reality which is already obsolete, and yet in it is being born
a new life, the future reality, to serve which means to contribute
to the victory of the new.
Ibid., p. 636.
3*
36
V. FOMINA
Marxists attribute great importance to ideas, ideals, although

this is challenged by the Narodnik sociologists. Ideas become
a great power, but 011 the indispensable condition that they are
able to embrace and reflect reality, the course of history, the
relations between the classes. O nly in that case are they invin
cible and do they promote progress. In the opposite case they act
as brakes to social development. A class and its political party
m ay be called revolutionary only if they express the most pro
gressive trends of society, are vehicles of the most advanced
ideas of their lim e, if they determine the tasks of tho social
struggle.
Plekhanov called revolutionary ideas dynamite which no
other explosive in the world can replace .*
Plekhanov, being a Marxist, never tired of calling for the ful
filment of the great ideals of scientific socialism. lie stressed the
exceptional role of revolutionary theory in the proletariats class
struggle. For without revolutionary theory, he wrote, there
is no revolutionary movement in the true sense of the word.**
He called for the dissemination among the masses of the progres
sive ideas advanced by the most progressive social forces, and
this he saw as a very great factor of progress.
However, Plekhanov did not apply these views consistently
In practice. Later, when he became a Menshevik, he underesl imated the subjective side of the revolutionary movement, minimised
the role of the revolutionary parly and belittled the reverse
influence of social consciousness on economics, the role of ideas
in the development of society.
* * *
At the end of the nineteenth century and later, when the bour
geoisie were conducting a campaign against Marxism and its
philosophy, the materialist Plekhanovs resolute defence of the
philosophical principles of MarxismMarxist materialism and
dialectics was of immense importance. He showed that the
ideological bourgeois reaction was fighting under the flag of philo
sophical idealism and eclecticism. In the final analysis, he saw
Ihe social bases of that campaign against materialism in the
bourgeoisies fear of the revolutionary proletariat entering the
historical arena.
In defending the just cause in philosophy Plekhanov exposed
idealism in its various forms Berkeleianism, H um ism , Fichteism,
K antianism , Schellingism, Hegelianism and the subjective
** Ibid.
37
sociology of the Narodniks and proved (hat idealism is akin to

religion.
11 is resolute attacks on the landlord-bourgeois reaction, which
slandered dialectical materialism and strove to exclude it from
the general course of philosophys progressive development, were
particularly valuable.
Plekhanov showed lhe conditions in which dialectical mate
rialism arose and disclosed the continuity in the development of
materialist philosophy.
The main thing in Plekhanovs historical and philosophical
conception was to light idealism and to bring out the materialist
tradition in philosophy. However, his works contain no clear
formulation of dialectical materialism's conception of tlie object
of philosophy.
Plekhanov defends dialectics, traces its development in the
history of philosophy, and studies and investigates the numerous
systems and schools of the various philosophical trends.
At the same time he shows how the bourgeois historians of
philosophy give an idealist twist to the views of the materialists,
falsify the history of materialism and try to pass over materi
alism in silence. He draws attention to the unscientific way in
which bourgeois scholars expound the history of philosophy in the
spirit of vulgar filiation of ideas, that is, simple consecutiveness
of philosophical systems, ignoring the connection between the
history of ideas and the his(ory of society. At the same time lie
demands that continuity in the development of ideas be taken
into account, that the connection between the different philo
sophical systems and schools and the philosophical theories of the
past be borne in mind.
From the standpoint of dialectical materialism Plekhanov
endeavoured to trace the continuity of the materialist ideas and
also what distinguishes dialectical materialism from pre-Marx
ian materialism and from Hegels philosophy. This was of great
value, for in the eighties and nineties socialist literature often
failed to give a clear idea of the difference between dialectical
materialism and the preceding materialist systems. More than
that, Marx's views were often confused with those of llolbach
and of Helvetius. The weak sides of metaphysical materialism
were attributed to dialectical materialism. On the other hand,
dialectical materialism was professed to be a fragment of Left.
Hegelianism.
Plekhanov saw the continuity and the connection between the
dialectical and the pre-Marxian materialists m ainly in llieir
defence of materialism. He traces the genesis of materialism from
Heraclitus, Democritus, Spinoza, French materialists and Feuer
bach. However, he committed an inaccuracy in calling M arxs
38
V. FOMINA
materialism a kind of Spinozism. But it would be incorrect to

think that Plekhanov was thus identifying dialectical materialism with Spinozas philosophy. He was merely underlining the
m aterialist basis of the link between the philosophical teachings
of Democritus, Spinoza, Feuerbach and Marx. This link, he
thought, was expressed in the fact that these thinkers resolved
the basic question of philosophy m aterialistically and proved the
primacy of the material over the ideal.
The point of departure of Plekhanovs Development of the Monist
View of History is the clearly expressed view that the way the
basic question in philosophy is resolved serves as the dividing
lint* between materialism and idealism.
Plekhanov spread the basic proposition of materialism that
being determines consciousness; he tirelessly opposed every sort
of synthesis of materialism and idealism, i.e., dualism. Being,
nature, such is the primary basis, the original element which
determines all aspects of life.
A ll most important trends of philosophic thought, Plekhanov
says, can be classified under materialism and idealism. Although
besides them there were nearly always some dualist systems,
which considered spirit and matter as separate independent
substances, dualism was never able to give a satisfactory answer
to the inevitable question of how these two separate substances
having nothing in common can influence each other. Any kind
of synthesis of the materialist and idealist points of view, Plekha
nov shows, leads to eclecticism. It is impossible to understand
the nature of historical phenomena from the standpoint of dual
ism, for dualism is always eclectic. To explain this thought
Plekhanov says: Of course, the eclectic can unite everything
in his m ind. W ith the help of eclectic thinking one can unite
Marx not only w ith K ant, but even w ith the realists of the
Middle Ages. But for people who think consistently the illegal
cohabitation of Marx w ith the philosophy of Kant must appear
as something monstrous in the fullest sense of the word. *
Plekhanov attributes a particularly great role in the history
of materialism to the eighteenth-century French materialists.
To idealism he opposes the French materialists' conception of
consciousness as a natural phenomenon, a quality of matter,
and shows their resolute fight against the idealists, who explained
consciousness by supernatural forces, etc. Plekhanov analyses
the ethics of the French materialists, shows how progressive it
was for its time and defends these materialists against accusa
tions of im m orality by the vulgar bourgeois historians of phi
losophy. H ighly assessing the French m aterialists fight against
I
!
|
39
the church and religion, he shows at the same time how lim ited,
bourgeois, their views were. However, it is m ainly the historical
views of the pre-Marxian materialists that capture Plekhanovs
attention. He dwells in great detail on the French materialists
attempts to explain by the conditions of social life why definite
ideas and morals prevailed in society; at the same time he empha
sises that, being entangled in unsolvable contradictions, the
French materialists did not overcome tho idealist view of history.
In a polemic w ith bourgeois historians of philosophy, Plekhanov
defended Feuerbachs consistent materialism in his conception
of nature and disclosed the resemblance between Feuerbach's
philosophical views and those of the French materialists, saw
the lim itations of Feuerbachs philosophy resulting from his
underestimation of dialectics and also from his lack of a m aterial
ist view of history. However, in appraising the philosophy of
Feuerbach. Spinoza and the eighteenth-century French m aterial
ists, he did not sufficiently underline their typical lim ita tio n s
their mechanistic, contemplative outlook, and so forth.
Plekhanov wrote that the Marxist philosophy dialectical
materialism, the most outstanding philosophical system is monis
tic. Materialism alone correctly explains the phenomena of nature
and of human society. Even in the field of psychology, the science
which studies m ainly mental phenomena, we work with greater
success when we accept nature as the primary element and consid
er mental phenomena as necessary consequences of the motion of
matter.*
Marxist m aterialist philosophy is consistent in the way it
deals with the basic question of philosophy. W hile holding that
the outside world is primary, it at tho same time considers it as
developing and changing.
In his notes to Engels Ludwig Feuerbach and the E nd of Classical
German Philosophy, Plekhanov explains highly important propo
sitions of dialectical m aterialism the eternity of matter, the
basic forms of existence, motion, space and time. He refutes the
Kantian subjective idealist conception of space, time and cau
sality.
Motion is an inalienable quality of matter. Matter needs no
supernatural prime mover to set it in motion, to produce what
we call sensation, thought. Modern materialism, i.e., dialectical
materialism, is the only consistent and the most progressive
system of philosophy; it agrees w ith the data of natural science
and is alien to mysticism.
Plekhanov gave a Marxist explanation of questions of know l
edge. The point of departure of knowledge is the outside world.
G. Plekhanov, Works, Russ, ed., Vol. V III , p. 139.
40
V. FOMINA
Our notions and conceptions of objccts ami phenomena of the

outside world have an objective content.
The material is the basis of the psychic, the ideal. Thought
does not exist outside man, it is a function of the brain, the
result of nervous and psychic processes.
In his notes to Engels Ludwig Feuerbach and in his own The
Development of the Monist View of History, Plekhanov criticises
the agnostics Hume, Kant and otherswho denied or doubted
the know ability of the outside world.
The existence of the outside world, Plekhanov wrote, is beyond
doubt. My impressions are the result of the action of outside
objects on me and, therefore, they correspond and cannot but
correspond lo the m utual relations of the things outside us.
Hence the knowledge of an object is always knowledge through
the intermediary of the impressions which Ihe object makes on us.
Sensation, perception of objects outside us, is the basis of knowl
edge.
Plekhanov said, in complete agreement with Engels, that Ihe
K antian and ITumist teachings of the unknow ability of the
outside world are best refuted by experience and industry; every
experiment and every productive activity of man represents an
active relation on his part lo the external world. Science proves
that a large number of phenomena can be foreseen and brought
about. This means that it is also possible lo foresee the effects
that w ill be produced on us by things in themselves . But if we
can foresee some of the effects that can be produced on us by
things in themselves, Plekhanov convincingly wrole, lhat
means lhat at least some of their properties are known to us.
And if some properties of things are known to us, we are not
entitled to call those things unknowable.
In a number of works, m ainly in The Development of the Monist
View of History, Plekhanov gave a brilliant exposition of the
Marxist teaching of objective truth. He clearly linked the acknowl
edgement thal the outside world is knowable w ith the acknowl
edgement that m an s knowledge can provide objective truth.
Answering M ikhailovsky, Kareyev and other subjectivists who
categorically denied the existence of objective truth and asserted
thal all that satisfies our demand for knowledge is true, i.e.,
that truth is subjective, Plekhanov said: truth is found, not in
the sphere of subjectivity, but as a resull of all-round considera
tion of the objective relations of reality.
Objective truth, he says, sum m ing up his argument, is the
correct reflection of reality. Outside us there exist objects and
phenomena, their properties and relations. The only true views
are those which correctly reflect the aspects of reality and these
relations; views which distort them are erroneous.
41
The denial of the objectivity of truth by the subjectivists on

the grounds that life develops through contradictions is unten
able, Plekhanov wrote. The presence of contradictions in life
does not disprove objective truth but only leads to it. However,
the road to knowledge is not a straight one. The contradictions
of life force us to consider reality in a more profound and all-round
manner, as a result of which our knowledge of the world becomes
more correct; they provide objective, absolute truth which no
further development of knowledge, no further contradictions can
do away with.
This emphasis on the possibility of knowing absolute truth
expressed confidence in the unlim ited ness of human .knowledge,
the assurance that human thought would not stop half-way in its
striving to know the world, that new discoveries would supple
ment and confirm M arxs brilliant theory as new discoveries in
astronomy supplemented and confirmed Copernicus discovery.
At the same time one must draw attention to a certain confu
sion of which Plekhanov is sometimes g u ilty in questions con
cerning the theory of knowledge. An example is his agreement
with Humes words that man must have belief in the existence
of the outer world. Lenin called this remark absurd and said
the word belief (taken from Hume), although put in quotation
marks, discloses a confusion of terms on Plekhanovs part.*
A more serious error in the field of the theory of knowledge was
the proposition that our sensations are hieroglyphs, which Plekha
nov formulated in 1892 in his notes to the first edition of the
translation of Engels Ludwig Feuerbach. This meant that the
sensations produced in us by the action of various forms of matter
in motion do not give an exact reflection of the objective processes
which give rise to then), are not images of the outside world.
Only conventionally do they pass on to us the links between
phenomena of the objective world. Our sensations are in their
way hieroglyphs which inform us of what is taking place in
reality. The hieroglyphs do not resemble tho events conveyed by
them. ** This error on Plekhanov's part showed to a certain
extent the influence of Helmholtz.
Later. Plekhanov represented things as though he had made only
a mistake in terminology, in words, and understood all the
awkwardness of lhat inexactness. However. Lenin considered it
necessary to point out lhat mistake as a departure from Engels
materialistic, formulation, a concession to agnosticism.
N otwithstanding individual serious errors made by Plekhanov
in the field of philosophy, the history of Marxist philosophy is
* V. I. L enin, Collected Works , V ol. 14, p. 141.
** See this volum e, p. 474.
42
V. FOMINA
greatly indebted lo him . He unmasked unscientific and reaction

ary idealist outlooks, disclosed tho untenability of the views
of the vulgarisers who distorted Marxist philosophy, criticised
the confusion of the eclectics and positivists and defended the
correctness of dialectical materialism.
* * *
Plekhanov was an ardent defender of m aterialist dialectics,
which he skilfully applied to social life, correctly considering
it as an achievement of Marxist philosophic thought. He saw in
it tho great and the new which, combined w ith the masterly
discovery of the materialist conception of history, distinguishes
Marxs materialism from the teachings of materialists before
him . Plekhanov brings out the various aspects of materialist
dialectics and b rillia n tly expounds the theory of development, the
correlation between evolution and revolution, leaps, etc. In this
connection he shows the opposition between Marx's dialectical
method and Hegel's, and considers the role of Hegels idealist
philosophy as one of the theoretical sources of Marxism.
Plekhanov elucidated questions of materialist dialectics in the
eighties and nineties of the last century in a number of works:
.4 New Champion of Autocracy, or M r. L. Tikhomirov's Grief
(1889)his first, detailed defence of m aterialist dialectics; For
the Sixtieth Anniversary of Hegel's Death, The Development of the
Monist View of History, Essays on the History of Materialism,
works on Belinsky and Chernyshevsky, articles against Bern
stein, Struve and other revisionists.
Plekhanov called Hegel a titan of idealist, philosophical thought.
He considered the restoration of the dialectical method a great
service on his part. Hegels speculative philosophy, for which
reality is the product of the development of the Absolute Idea
or the world spirit, was superior to metaphysical materialism
by the fact 1hat it worked out the dialectical method. Hegelian
philosophy, Plekhanov noted, exalted Ihe dialectical method.
Ilegel explained phenomena of reality from the point of view of
their coming into being, development and destruction. A ll that
is finite," Plekhanov said, quoting Hegel, is doomed to self-destruc
tion."
Many of Hegels opponents did not notice the progressive
innovatory kernel of his dialectical method his teaching on
development because of the reactionary shell of his philosophic
system. Hegel had a fruitful influence on scientific thought of his
lime. Plekhanov explained this very well. He showed that Hegels
dialectics was a progressive step compared w ith metaphysics, in
spite of the appeal to the Absolute Idea, and that. Hegel rendered
43
great services to human thought. At the same lime Plekhanov

gave a popular exposition of Marx and Engels proposition
on tlie contradiction between method and system in Hegel and
disclosed the idealism and mysticism with which Hegels philos
ophy was permeated. He wrote about the conservatism of Hegels
system which contradicts lhe idea of development, the dialectical
method. W hile Hegels dialectical method demanded develop
ment, his reactionary system, Plekhanov wrote, aimed at justi
fying the German reactionary state at that time. It tried to prove
the perfection and eternity of the social system then existing
in Germany.
Plekhanov saw as one of the lim itations of llegel.s dialectics
the fact that it was turned towards the past only. Philosophy
always comes too late, Hegel writes, and only takes cognizance
of what has already been accomplished. Of course, Plekhanov
notes ironically, philosophy cannot vivify a decrepit, obsolete
social system. B ut must this process of the rise of the new really
remain for ever hidden to philosophy? O nly dialectical m aterial
ism. Plekhanov emphasises, overcomes this extreme. Hegels
idealistic dialectics is incompatible w ith and alien to m aterial
ism. In Marxs philosophy it has been changed into its direct
and complete opposite.
K arl M arx said quite rightly of himself, Plekhanov wrote in
his For the Sixtieth Anniversary of Hegel's Death, that his method
is the complete opposite of Hegels method inasmuch as Marx,
being a materialist, did not understand dialectics in the same
way as Hegel, who was an idealist.
Unlike Hegels idealist dialectics, which maintained the spon
taneous motion of pure thought and denied in substance the devel
opment of nature, the development of matter, Marxism turns dia
lectics right side up, basically transforms it and frees it from the
idealistic hazy cover in which it was enveloped in Hegel.
We sometimes meet in Plekhanov expressions which indicate
that he was not critical enough towards Hegels philosophy, but
this must not be exaggerated. His merit lies in his brilliant and
convincing opposition of the Marxist dialectical method to Hegels
idealistic method.
Plekhanov emphasised lhat the dialectical method and material
ism are indissolubly united in Marx and Engels philosophy.
That is why the most distinctive feature of modern materialism
is its dialectical method. Therein lies its substantial distinction
from the old, metaphysical materialism of the eighteenth century.
In materialism the modern doctrine of development finds its firm
basis. Plekhanov called Marxs method the most revolutionary
of all methods ever applied. Marxist dialectics is an indispensable
instrument of knowledge by means of which the contradictory
4-4
V. FOMINA
tendencies in the development of nature and society are

disclosed.
In this connection a large place in Plekhanovs works is devoted
to bringing out the radical difference between dialectics and meta
physics, two different methods of studying and approaching reality.
Marxs dialectics, unlike metaphysics, studies phenomena in
their contradictory development, in their immediate connection
and interdependence, in continual and eternal motion.
In accordance with the dialectical method the only scientific
one Plekhanov considered metaphysics historically, in connec
tion with the development of knowledge. He brought out the scien
tific untenability and reactionary nature of the metaphysical stand
point, w h ich denies contradictions, leaps and upheavals, and rec
ognises only quantitative changes. Metaphysicians are expo
nents of the vulgar theory of evolution and introduce into their
teaching a considerable admixture of conservatism, distorting
the very theory of development.
The point about the metaphysical view of the world, Plekhanov
says, is that it recognises only quantitative changes in things and
phenomena. For the metaphysician, development assumes the
form of a gradual increase or decrease in the dimensions of the
object studied. Sim ilarly, by destruction he understands only
the gradual decrease nf a phenomenon until it becomes quite imper
ceptible. Hut gradual increase and change cannot account for the
appearance or disappearance of objects.
It was Marx who first explained and showed the substance of
the dialectical method. Plekhanov elucidates tlie dialectics of the
transition of quantitative changes into qualitative ones by a break
in the gradual process, by leaps and revolutionary upheavals, and
concentrates the lire of his criticism on the lim itations of the evolu
tion conception.
Answering the renegade L. Tikhom irov a former N arodnik
who denied dialectical development and forcible upheavals ,
leaps in nature and society, and maintained that in the scientific
sense one may speak only of a slow change in the type of a given
phenomenon , Plekhanov proved that dialectics does not overlook
the indisputable fact that one and the same uninterrupted process
goes on at all moments of the change, but in that process there
emerge a number of conditions under which the gradual change
must, necessarily lead to a leap.
For socialists armed with the dialectical method, Plekhanov
wrote, revolutions are just as necessary elements in the process of
historical development as evolutions.
Thus, substantiating the dialectical doctrine of leaps, Plekha
nov shows lhat nature refutes the views of the metaphysicians at
every step by displaying contradiction in phenomena and breaks
INTKODUCTOKY ESSAY
45
in gradual development, or leaps; all the more do transitions from

quantity to quality, leaps, take place in society.
Plekhanov analyses with great skill the dialectical process of
the transition of quantity into quality, the process of motion by
leaps, making use of many facts of human history. Every leap is
prepared by the preceding development. It cannot take place with
out a sufficient cause which lies in the previous course of social
life. In his articles, particularly those against Tikhomirov, and
in Ihe first decade of this century those against Struve, Plekhanov
gives a correct general theoretical interpretation of the working
of the law governing the transition of quantity into quality and
inversely.
Plekhanov explains in a way accessible lo all the' law of the
unity and struggle of opposites. Every development is caused by
internal contradictions, is the result of the interaction of opposite
sides. The contradict oriness of every phenomenon means that it
develops of itself and out of itself the elements which sooner or
later will put an end to ils existence, will I urn it into the opposite
of itself, for everything develops through contradictions, through
I lie struggle of opposite forces. That is the great eternal and uni
versal law of the contradiction between the old and the new, the
law of the overthrow of Ihe form rising from a given content as
n result of the further growth of that, content itself. This law
governs Ihe development of nature and of society.
The study of development, as the dialectical contradiction in
processes and phenomena of reality did not, however, lead Ple
khanov to understand the law of the unity and struggle of oppo
sites as the basic law in dialectics. Although he recognised that
law, Plekhanov did not consider it as the essence of dialectics,
lie held t.hal the distinctive feature and the axis of dialectics was
development in the form of leaps. That was why Lenin, who highly
assessed Plekhanovs defence of Marx's dialectical method, repeat
edly noted that, he did not pay enough attention to the law of the
unity and struggle of opposites, the most important law of the
objective world and of knowledge. Lenin also noted that in ex
pounding the laws of dialectics, Plekhanov, in his wish to popula
rise them, reduced them to an aggregate of examples and did not
devote due attention lo dialectics as the theory of knowledge in
Marxism.
Plekhanov's work at the end of the eighties for a correcl under
standing of the law of the negation of negation is of considerable
value, lie attacked those who distorted that law because they
saw in it only the manifestation of Hegels notorious triad; he
opposed Mikhailovsky, for instance, who, clinging to Marxs mode
of expression, reduced Marxist dialectics to Hegels triad. I t was
in the universal law of the negation of negation that Plekhanov
46
V. FOMINA
saw the principle, the specific feature of dialectics which shows

the interdependence between what, is coming into existence and
what is disappearing. He resolutely defended Marx against accusa
tions of formalism, of following Hegels triad and so forth. He
showed how unfounded were assertions that Marxs b rillia n t fore
sight of the outcome of capitalist development was based on the
triad". The triad never played the role of proof in Marxism.
Marxs dialectics brings out the contradictory tendencies existing
in development not a priori, but on the basis of the factual study
of reality. The strength of historical materialism consists not in
references to the triad, but in all-round scientific investigation
of the historical process. Only thus can one obtain a living under
standing of all the real qualities of an object , Plekhanov said,
emphasising the hostility of Marxist dialectics towards abstract
schemes.
* * *
Plekhanovs works in defence of dialectical and historical mate
rialism arc b rilliant in style, full of polemic ardour and profound
in their content; they are a treasure of Marxist literature. They
expound in an original form many basic problems and propositions
of Marxist materialism and dialectical method, of the material
ist conception of history and of Marxist philosophy as a whole.
Plekhanovs Marxist works were directed against philosophical
reaction and obscurantism and aimed at the political and social
reorganisation of Russia and the emancipation of the people of
Russia and other countries from social slavery and oppression.
They served the dissemination of proletarian internationalism
and the establishment of close ties between the revolutionary move
ment in Russia and in Western Europe. That is why they still
m aintain their significance in modern times.
That is why Lenin pointed to the necessity of studying Ple
khanovs philosophical works and insisted on their being repub
lished and included in the series of compulsory manuals of com
munism.
V. F O M IN A
IV 7
" l* i
i vt
l a< jti& e ti< *oSlttS iaUi *ltflie r
bolirwn
*IhV
jvrri'.y. Hj
***! :
'iefi3i*rx
|if*J tww n m p i M
boc<
so forth.
UV Nfidt*'* brClUnt fo
of fol
n
t v u l) d <ro
-.( < M < aM tet of en^to
of jproo! M
stiver Ola
I'ft&fcMtffcli bring*
tk
*3tt-*4ic- v-ivp^tT*Bkr s not a
l . > -if rt*ilty. T.-ypw*j

toftTancM.-to t i '**tr
:%ft
Ik
Hy
;
ru (*. -V
# * ' ,wj |
r
or
l*n* of dt I#cV>*n nd Tlt-,f\

finte &rd<7tr Aftdfyrol
t; drey km
... -pt *i i f l fkttftyi*? *oi ut M^nPS^ ^h iteto j
-wi/tM * * d;ro^t*d ifuln#t pfc
:!?(I
*U
nd i>- *
"inl *Un4 *< LM yolU kai *nd

r ix afi tk#
pcv,*le,
from
oppHffln
h- ut^riiiifiAitî^' fit ir
ittnL ttaciAblf*hji.*n( n t clftgrtws lietw^^tfeeifvoli^ltaffMy me

u a t iit Rosaia nnr In \V*tc?n fc.'jrofte; !Xl*fc U r^jliyrtlw y
y jf
t :~ '' 1 It * g p f
<Mk tlietr bein* r*p<
1, M V ' | jf M hpuianrj muo*1 of <
Wt
W
2Jl
>**
J& i '
X
* -'i
SOCIALISM AND THE POLITICAL STRUGGLE
PREFACE
The present pamphlet may be an occasion for much-misunder
standing and even dissatisfaction. People who sympathise with
the trend of Zemlya i Volya1 and Chorny Peredel* (publications
in the editing of which I used to take part) may reproach me w ith
having diverged from the theory of what is called Narodism. The
supporters of other factions of our revolutionary party may be
displeased w ith my criticism of outlooks which are dear to them.
That is why I consider a short preliminary explanation necessary.
The desire to work among the people and for the people, the
certitude that the emancipation of the working classes must be
conquered by the working classes themselves this practical ten
dency of our Narodism is just as dear to me as it used to be. But
its theoretical propositions seem to me, indeed, erroneous in many
respects. Years of life abroad and attentive study of the social
question have convinced me that the triumph of a spontaneous
popular movement similar to Stepan R azin s revolt or the Peasant
Wars in Germany cannot satisfy the social and political needs of
modern Russia, that the old forms of our national life carried w ith
in them many germs of their disintegration and that they cannot
develop into a higher communist form except under the imme
diate influence of a strong and well-organised workers' socialist
party. For that reason 1 think that besides fighting absolutism
the Russian revolutionaries must strive at least to work out the
elements for the establishment of such a party in the future. In this
creative work they w ill necessarily have to pass on to the basis
of modern socialism, for the ideals of Zemlya i Volya do not cor
respond to the condition of the industrial workers. And that will
be very opportune now that the theory of Russian exceptionalism
is becoming synonymous w ith stagnation and reaction and that
the progressive elements of Russian society are grouping under
the banner of judicious Occidentalism.
I go on to another point of my explanation. Here I w ill first of
all say in my defence that I have been concerned not w ith persons
but with opinions, and that my personal differences w ith this or
-4 01329
50
G. PLEK HA N O V
that socialist group do not in the least dim inish my respect for
all who sincerely fight for the emancipation of the people.
Moreover, the so-called terrorist movement has opened a new
epoch in the development of our revolutionary party the epoch
of conscious political struggle against the government. This change
in the direction of our revolutionaries work makes it necessary
for them to reconsider a ll views that they inherited from the pre
ceding period. Life demands that we attentively reconsider all
our intellectual stock-in-trade when we step on to new ground, and
I consider my pamphlet as a contribution which I can make to
this matter of criticism which started long ago in our revolution
ary literature. The reader has probably not yet forgotten the biog
raphy of Andrei Ivanovich Zhelyabov3 which contained a severe
and frequently very correct critical appraisal of the programme
and activity of the Zemlya i Volya group. I t is quite possible
that my attempts at criticism w ill be less successful, but it would
hardly be fair to consider them less timely.
G. P.
Geneva,
October 25, 1883
Every class struggle is a political struggle.

Karl Marx1
Since the Russian revolutionary movement finally took the path

of open struggle against absolutism, the question of the socialists
political tasks has become the most v ital and most burning ques
tion for our party. Because of it people have drifted apart who
had been attached to each other by many years of joint practical
work, because of it whole groups and organisations have fallen
to pieces. I t can even be said that all Russian socialists have tem
porarily been split into two camps supporting diametrically
opposite views on politics . Extremes were unavoidable in this
matter, as always in such cases. Some considered the political
struggle as almost tantam ount to betrayal of the peoples cause,
as a manifestation of bourgeois instincts among our revolutionary
intelligentsia and a defilement of socialist programme purity.
Others not only recognised that struggle as necessary, they were
even ready, for the sake of its imaginary interests, to compromise
with the liberally-minded oppositional elements of our society.
Some even went to the extent of considering any manifestation
of class antagonism in Russia as harmful for the present. Such
views were held, for instance, by Zhelyabov, who, as his biogra
pher says, imagined the Russian revolution not exclusively as the
emancipation of the peasant or even (?) the workers estate, but
as the political regeneration of the whole Russian people general
ly.* In other words, the revolutionary movement against the
absolute monarchy merged in his im agination w ith the working
classs social-revolutionary movement for its economic emancipa
tion; the particular, specially Russian task of the present hid
from view the general task of the working class in all civilised
countries. The difference could not go any farther, a break became
inevitable.
Time, however, smoothed out extremes and resolved a consid
erable number of the disputed questions to the satisfaction of
both sides. Little by little all or nearly a ll recognised that the
* See the pamphlet Andrei Ivanovich Zhelyabov, p. 10.
4*
52
G. PLEK HA N O V
political struggle which had been taken up must be pursued until

a broad emancipation movement in the people and society destroyed
the edifice of absolutism as an earthquake destroys a poultryhouse, if Marxs forceful expression can be used here. But to very
many of our socialists this struggle still appears as some kind of
forced compromise, some temporary trium ph of practice over
theory, a mockery by life of the impotence of thought. Even
the politicians , in justifying themselves against the reproaches
showered on them, avoided all appeal to the basic propositions of
socialism, and referred only to the incontestable demands of real
ity. A t the bottom of their hearts they themselves apparently
also believed that political tendencies were by no means suited
to them, but they consoled themselves w ith the consideration
that only in a free state could they let the dead bury the dead and,
renouncing a ll political considerations, devote themselves wholly
to the cause of socialism. This vague conviction sometimes led
to misunderstandings that were not w ithout their curious side.
Analysing the speech of the Russian guest" at the Chur Congress5
and attempting to justify itself against the allegation that it dab
bled in politics, Narodnaya Volya noted, among other things, that
its supporters were neither socialists nor political radicals, but
simply Narodovoltsi. The terrorist organ presumed that in the
West the attention of the radicals was absorbed exclusively by
political questions while the socialists would not have anything
to do w ith politics. Anybody who knows the programmes of the
West European socialists understands, of course, how erroneous
such an idea is as far as the enormous m ajority of them are con
cerned. 11 is well known that Social-Democracy in Europe and Amer
ica never maintained the principle of political abstention.
Its supporters do not ignore politics. O nly they do not consider
the task of tho socialist revolution to be the regeneration of the
whole people generally. They try to organise the workers into
a separate party in order thus to segregate the exploited from the
exploiters and give political expression to the economic antago
nism. Where in our country did they get the certitude that social
ism calls for political indifferencea certitude which is in glar
ing contradiction w ith reality? Schillers Wallenstein tells Max
Piccolomini that human reason is broad, whereas the world is
narrow, so that thoughts can live at ease together in tho former
while there are harsh clashes between things in the latter. Must
we say that in our brain, on the contrary, concepts of things which
in practice not only get on very well together, but are utterly un
thinkable without their mutual connection, cannot live side by side?
To answer that question we must first of all make clear the concep
tions of socialism which our revolutionaries had during the epoch
when political tendencies arose among them. Once convinced that
t r,,
,,
/tt,
9p enMMÛif
.<>. . ** '*VV*fli.fi i+k-***j
e .
!><"'jnin
,
.
,
^J , j-
&
M y y u , A~f
"* 4M0~-
! v'1 / /-vt&cecm*/"
*sj' , C
&
IF*-)*
iS ^ t
&****cyt**'*-*-}
:* jo -
-&~*
/*
rj& <
'Z & * , . < tZ % $ L
.f>
*t~m**-<*
.. ^ - * 7
^*Vr*,/ ' J*V'-*-<*>-''-'^Cf'î
" ^ iT
'~
y rT
".4
I~
r / r 5 ^ '
&ÛdL^y
tyL*> A*,
^
% * *
'
'
x.-
r
'
A
^~ *
if
"
x f
The first
T>a,,Q c
,
,.
ii
P fee ol a dratt of the m anuscript of Socialism a
Political Struggle
the
SOCIALISM AND THE PO LIT ICA L ST RU GGLE
55
these conceptions were erroneous or backward we shall consider

what place is given to the political struggle by the doctrine which
even its bourgeois opponents do not refuse to call scientific socialism.
All that we shall have to do then w ill be to make in our general
conclusions the corrections which are inevitable when we consider
the various peculiarities of the contemporary state of affairs in
Russiaand our subject w ill be exhausted; the political struggle
of the working class against its enemies belonging to one historical
formation or another w ill finally reveal to us its connection with
the general tasks of socialism.
I
Socialist propaganda has enormously influenced the whole
course of intellectual development in the civilised countries. There
is hardly a single branch of sociology that has not felt its impact
in one sense or another. I t has in part destroyed old scientific
prejudices and in part transformed them from a naive delusion
into a sophism. It is understandable that the influence of socialist
propaganda must have affected the supporters of the new teaching
still more powerfully. A ll the traditions of previous political
revolutionaries have been ruthlessly criticised, all methods of
social activity have been analysed from the standpoint of the
new Gospel. B ut as the scientific substantiation of socialism was
complete only w ith the appearance of Capital,7 it is easy to under
stand that the results of this criticism have by no means always
been satisfactory. And as, on the other hand, there were several
schools in utopian socialism which had almost equal influence,
little by little a kind of medium socialism, as it were, has been
worked out, and this has been adhered to by people who did not
claim to found a new school and were not among the particularly
zealous supporters of previously existing schools. This eclectic
socialism, as Frederick Engels says, is a mish-mash of such crit
ical statements, economic theories, pictures of future society by
the founders of different sects, as excite a m inim um of opposi
tion; a mish-mash which is the more easily brewed the more the
definite sharp edges of the in d iv id u a l constituents are rubbed down
in the stream of debate, like rounded pebbles in a brook .* This
medium socialism, the same author notes, still reigns in the heads
of most of the worker socialists in England and in France.** We Rus
sians could add that exactly the same mish-mash reigned in the
first half of the seventies in the minds of our socialists and repre* See Entwicklung des Sozialismus, S. 18.
** (Note to the 1905 edition.] Now Marxism has definitely triumphed inFrance; its basic propositions are acknowledged, in n more or less distorted
form, even by opportunists of Jawes' camp.
56
G. PLEK H A N O V
scnted the general background against which two extreme trends

stood out: the so-called Vperyod, group9 and the Bakuninists.10
The former showed a tendency towards German Social-Democracy,
the latter were a Russian version of the anarchist faction of the
International. Differing very greatly from each other in almost all
respects, the two trends were at onestrange as that isin their
negative attitude to politics. And it must be confessed that the
anarchists were more consistent in this respect than the Russian
Social-Democrats of the time.
From the anarchist point of view the political question is the
touchstone of any working-class programme. The anarchists not
only deny any deal with the modern state, they go so far as to ex
clude from their notions of future society anything that recalls
the idea of state in one way or another. Autonomy of the in divid
ual in an autonomous communitysuch has been the motto of
all consistent supporters of this trend. We know that its founder
Proudhon in his publication La Voix du peuple11 set himself the
not quite modest task to do as regards the government (which
he confused w ith the state) what Kant did as regards religion*
and carried his anti-state zeal so far as to declare that Aristotle
himself was a sceptic in matters of state.** The accomplishment
of the task he had set himself was very simple and followed, if
you like, quite logically from the economic doctrines of the French
Kant. Proudhon was never able to imagine the economic system
of the future otherwise than in the form of commodity production,
corrected and supplemented by a new, just form of exchange
on the basis of constituted value. For a ll its justice , this new
form of exchange does not, of course, preclude the purchase, sale
or promissory notes which go with commodity production and cir
culation. A ll these transactions naturally presuppose various con
tracts and it is these that determine the m utual relations between
the transacting sides. But in modern society contracts are based
on common legal standards compulsory for a ll citizens and safe
guarded by the state. In the future society everything would
supposedly proceed somewhat differently. Revolution, according
* See Confessions (Tun rivalutionnaire. Preface, p. 4.12
** To what extent Aristotle was a sceptic in matters of state is obvious
from the first chapter of the first volume of his Politics, in which he says that
the state is the most accomplished form of community", that its purpose
is the supreme good, and that it is therefore a phenomenon natural in the
highest sense of the word, and man is an animal predestined by his very
nature to the state form of community. (Dook I, Chap. 1, I-XI of the
German Sussemil edition of 1879.) The author of Politics is just as much
a sceptic in questions of state as Proudhon in questions of commodity pro
duction; the former could not imagine any other, higher form of community,
the latter did not suspect that products could be distributed among the
members of society without taking the form of commodities.
SOCIALISM AND THE PO LIT ICA L STRU GGLE
57
to Proudhon, was to abolish laws , leaving only contracts.

There is no need for laws voted by a m ajority or unanimously,"
he says in his Idee generate de la Revolution au X I X siecle, every
citizen, every commune and corporation w ill establish their own
particular laws (p. 259). W ith such a view of the matter, the polit
ical programme of the proletariat was simplified to the extreme.
The state, which recognises only general laws compulsory for all
citizens, could not even be a means for attaining socialist ideals.
Making use of it for their aims, the socialists only consolidate the
evil by the rooting out of which social liquidation should begin.
The state must decline , thus affording every citizen, every com
mune and corporation full freedom to decree their own particu
lar laws and to conclude the contracts which they require. And
if the anarchists do not waste time during the period preceding
the liquidation, these contracts w ill be concluded in the spirit,
of the System of Economic Contradictions18 and the triumph of the
Revolution w ill be assured.
The task of the Russian anarchists was simplified still more.
The destruction of the state (which little by little replaced in
the anarchist programme its decline recommended by Proudhon)
was to clear the way for the development of the ideals of the Rus
sian people. And as communal land tenure and organisation of
crafts into artels occupy a very prominent place in these ideals,
it was presumed that the autonomous Russians of democratic
origin would conclude their contracts not in the spirit of Prou
dhons reciprocity but rather of agrarian communism. As a born
socialist, the Russian people would not be long in understanding
that mere communal land tenure and communal ownership of
the instruments of production do not guarantee the desired equal
ity and would be forced lo set about organising autonomous com
munes on completely communist foundations.
The Russian anarchists, howeverat least those of the socalled rebel shadebothered little about the economic consequences
of the popular revolution they preached. They considered it
their duty to remove those social conditions which, in their opin
ion, hindered the normal development of national life; but they
did not ask themsolves which road that development would take
once it was freed from external hindrances. That this peculiar
refashioning of the famous motto of the Manchester School, laissez faire, laissoz passer, to make it look revolutionary, precluded
all possibility of seriously appraising the contemporary condition
of our social and economic life and did away w ith every criterion
for determining even the concept of the normal course of its devel
opment this did not occur either to rebels or to the Narodniks
who appeared later. A t the same time it would be utterly hopeless
to attempt such an appraisal as long as Proudhons teachings re
58
G. PLEKHANOV
mained the point of departure of our revolutionaries considera

tions. The weakest point of those teachings, the point in which
they offend logic, is the concept of commodity and of exchange
value, i.e., those very premises on which alone the correct conclu
sions about the m utual relations of the producers in the future
economic organisation can be based. From the standpoint of
Proudhons theories no special importance attaches to the cir
cumstance that contemporary Russian communal land tenure
by no means precludes commodity production. The Proudhonist
has no inkling of the inner, inevitable dialectics, which trans
forms commodity production at a definite stage of its development
into ... capitalist production.* And that is why it did not occur
to his Russian cousin to ask himself whether the divided efforts
of autonomous persons, communes and corporations would
suffice for the struggle against this tendency of commodity pro
duction which threatens one fine day to supply a certain propor
tion of the born Communists with honourably acquired capi
tals and to turn them into exploiters of the remaining masses of
the population. The anarchist denies the creative role of the state
in the socialist revolution for the very reason that he does not un
derstand the tasks and the conditions of that revolution.
We cannot enter here into a detailed analysis of anarchism in
genpral or of Bakuninism in particular.** We wish merely to point
out. to readers that both Proudhon and the Russian anarchists were
completely right from their point of view when they raised polit
ical non-interference" to the position of main dogma in their
practical programme. The social and political composition of
Russian life in particular, it seemed, justified the negation of
politics which is compulsory for all anarchists. Before entering
the field of political agitation the inhabitant" of Russia has to
become a citizen, i.e., to win for himself at least some political
rights, and first of all, of course, the right to think as he pleases
* See Das Kapital, 2. Auflage, S. 607-08.14
** Let us simply remind our reader of the objection made to Proudhon
by Rittinghausen. Power, government and all its forms, said the tireless
propagandist of the theory of direct popular legislation, are only varieties
of the species that is called: interference by society in people's relations with
things and, consequently, with one another__ I call on M. Proudhon to throw
into my face, as the result of his intellectual labour, the following conclusion:
No, there must bo no such interference by society in peoples relations with
things and, consequently, with one another! See Legislation directe par le
peuple et ses adversaires, pp. 194-95. Rittinghausen thought that "to pose
the question in this way means to solve it", for M. Proudhon himself admits
the necessity for such interference". But he did not foresee that the pupils
would go much further than the teacher and that the theory of anarchy
would degenerate, finally, into a theory of social amorphism. The anar
chists of today recognise no interference by society in the relations of individ
uals, as they have repeatedly stated in certain of their publications.
SOCIALISM
AND THE PO LIT ICA L STRU GGLE
59
anrl to say what lie thinks. Such a task amounts in practice to a

political revolution, and the experience of Western Europe has
clearly shown all anarchists that such revolutions have not
brought, do not and cannot bring any benefit to the people. As for
the consideration that the people must be educated politically by
taking part in their countrys public life, that could not be put
into practice, if only for the reason that the anarchists consider,
as we have already seen, that such participation is not education,
but perversion of the popular masses: it develops in them belief
in the state and therefore the tendency to statehood, or, as the
late M. A. Bakunin would have said, infects them with its official
and social venom, and, in any case, distracts them at least for
a short time from what is now the only useful and salutary matter
from revolt.* And at the same time, according to the philoso
phy of history of our rebels , it appeared that the Russian people
had shown its anti-state tendency by a whole series of large and
small movements and could therefore be considered mature enough
politically. So down w ith all dabbling in politics ! Let us help the
people in its anti-state struggle. Let us unite its dispersed efforts
in one revolutionary streamand then the awkward edifice of
the state w ill crash, opening by its fall a new era of social freedom
and economic equality! These few words expressed the whole
programme of our rebels.
In this sketchy review of tho programmes of the different groups
of Russian revolutionaries we must not forget that the views accord
ing to which all constitutions were only more or less unprofi
table contracts with the devil, as old F. H. Jacobi put i t such
views, we say, werejtypical not only of the Narodniks and anar
chists. I f the reader knows about Frederick Engels polemic with
P. Tkachov,** he w ill probably remember that the editor of Nabat,16 who disagreed w ith the Bakuninists on the question of prac
tical struggle, was in perfect agreement with them on their basic
views about the social and political condition of our country,
lie looked at it through the same prism of Russian exceptionalisni and the inborn communist tendencies of theRussian peo
ple .*** Like a genuine Blanquist17 he did not deny politics , of
course, but he understood it exclusively as a plot whose purpose
is to seize state power. This purpose, it seems, occupied the whole
field of vision of our Blanquists of that time and led them to many
contradictions. To remain consistent they had to adm it that their
activity could be useful to the cause of progress only in the excep
*
See M. A. Bakunins extremely interesting and typical pamphlet
Science and the Vital Cause of the Revolution.
** See OHencr Brief an Herrn Fr. Engels".16
*** To be persuaded of this one needs but to compare the Letter to
Frederick Engels just referred to with Bakunins pamphlet quoted above.
eo
G. PLEK H A N O V
tional case that the blow they dealt would not deviate a hairs
breadth from its target. If their planned seizure of power is a
failure, if their plot is discovered or the revolutionary government
is overthrown by the liberal party, the Russian people, far from
winning anything, w ill risk losing much. The last of the supposed
cases is particularly disastrous. The liberals w ill establish a strong
government which w ill be far more difficult to fight than modern
absolutely absurd" and absurdly absolute monarchy, while
the fire of economic progress w ill destroy the radical bases of
the peoples life. Under its influence exchange w ill develop, capi
talism w ill consolidate itself, the very principle of the village
commune w ill be destroyed in a word, the river of time w ill wash
away the stone from which the communist heaven is w ithin hands
reach. In cases of failure the Russian Blanquists would be bound
to do terrible damage to the cause of popular emancipation and
thus fall into the tragic position of W illia m Tell, who had to risk
the life of his own son. And as they have hardly distinguished them
selves by the skill of the m ythic Swiss seditionary , the Russian
people would not shout to them:
Shoot! I fear not!1*
if it adopted their view on the radical bases of its life and had
been invited to give its opinion about their programme.
Such a narrow and hopeless philosophy of Russian history was
bound to lead logically to the amazing conclusion that Russias
economic backwardness was a most reliable ally of tho revolution
and that stagnation was to be blazoned as the first and only para
graph of our m inim um programme. Every day brings us new
enemies, creates new social factors hostile to us, we read in the
first, November, issue of N abat for 1875. Fire is creeping up to
our state forms, too. Now these are dead, lifeless. Economic prog
ress w ill stir life in them, w ill breathe into them a new spirit,
w ill give them the strength and the fortitude which they have so
far lacked , and so forth. But if Joshua succeeded, as the Bible
relates, in stopping the sun for ten degrees , the tim e of miracles
has passed and there is not a single party which could shout:
Stop, productive forces! Do not move, capitalism ! History pays
as little attention to the fears of revolutionaries as to the jeremiads
of reaction. Economic progress" does its work w ithout w aiting
for the anarchists or the Blanquists to put their intentions into prac
tice. Every factory founded in Petersburg, every new wage-worker
employed by a Yaroslavl handicraftsman strengthens the flame
of progress , which is supposed to be fatal to the revolution, and
consequently decreases tho probability of popular victory. Can
such a view of the m utual relations of the various social forces in
Russia be called revolutionary? We do not think so. In order to
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
61
make themselves revolutionary in substance and not in name alone,

the Russian anarchists, Narodniks and Blanquists should first
of all have revolutionised their own heads, and to do so they
should have learned to understand the course of historical develop
ment and been able to lead it instead of asking old mother history
to mark time while they laid new, straighter and better beaten
roads for her.
The Vperxjod group understood the im m aturity and erroneous
ness of the outlooks just expounded, and there was a time when it
could have obtained dom inating intellectual influence among
our revolutionaries. That was the time when practical experience
had shaken the foundations of the old anarchist Narodism and all
its supporters felt that their programme needed to be seriously
reconsidered. Then a consistent criticism of all its theoretical anil
practical principles could have made the impending turn in the
movement still more decisive and irrevocable. The Vperyod group
could most conveniently have undertaken that criticism; m ain
taining almost entirely the standpoint of the Social-Democrats,
they were completely free from all Narodnik traditions. But in
order to be successful, their criticism should not have condemned,
but elucidated and generalised the v ital requirements of Russian
life which wero more and more driving our revolutionaries on to
the road of political struggle. And yet the Vperyod group rejected
politics just as resolutely as tho anarchists. I adm it that they
did not think socialism to be incompatible w ith interference in the
political life of the bourgeois state, and they fully approved of the
programme of West European Social-Democracy. But they pre
sumed that in the modern state founded on law the possibility
of openly organising the working class into a political party of
its own is bought at too high a price by the final victory of the
bourgeoisie and the deterioration of the workers condition corre
sponding to the epoch of capitalism. They forgot that in apprais
ing this situation one must take into account not only the dis
tribution of the national income, but also the whole organisation
of production and exchange; not only the average quantity of prod
ucts consumed by the workers, but also the form which those
products take*; not only the degree of exploitation, but also, in
particular, its form; not only the fact of the enslavement of the work
ing masses, but also the ideas and concepts which emerge or may
emerge in the head of the worker under the influence of this fact.**
*
i.e., whether they appear as commodities or are directly consumed
by the producers family, his master, and finally, the state, without ever
reaching the market.
We request that it bo home in mind that, we are talking not of the
editorial board of the journal Vperyod,10 but of the supporters of that publi
cation working in Russia.
02
G. P LEKHANOV
They would hardly have agreed that the factory worker was bound
to be m o r e receptive to socialism than the temporarily bound peas
ant; still less would they have admitted that the transition, for
instance, from natural economy lo money economy increases the
possibility of a conscious movement of the working masses for
their own economic emancipation. The philosophical and histor
ical parts of M arxs teaching remained for them an unread chap
ter in their favourite book; they believed too much in the om nip
otent influence of their propaganda to seek support for it in the
objective conditions of social life. And like the socialists of the
utopian period, they held that the whole future of their country,
including the social revolution, could be achieved by that propa
ganda. Posing the question in this way, they could have said with
the anarchists, parodying Proudhons well-known saying: la revo
lution est au-dessus de la politique. But that was just the reason
why they could not get our movement out of the state of inertia
it had got into at the end of tho seventies owing to the rejection
of all political struggle, on the one hand, and the im possibility,
on the other, of creating a working-class parly of any strength
under contemporary political conditions.
The honour of giving new scope to our movement belongs be
yond dispute lo Narodnaya Volya. Everybody still recalls the at
tacks that the Narodnaya Volya trend drew upon itself. The writer
of these lines himself belonged to the resolute opponents of this
trend, and allhough he perfectly admits now lhat the struggle for
political freedom has become a burning issue for modern Russia,
he is still far from sharing all the views expressed in Narodnaya
Volya publications . 20 That does nol prevent him , however, from
acknowledging th a l in the disputes which look place in the Zemlya
i Volya organisation about the time of its s p lit ,21 the Narodnaya
Volya members were perfectly right as long as they did not go
beyond our practical experience. That experience was already then
leading to amazing and completely unexpected conclusions, al
though we did not dare to draw them precisely because of their
unexpectedness. Attempts at the practical struggle against the
state should already then have led fundam entally to the thought
that the Russian rebel was compelled by the insuperable force
of circumstances to direct his agitation not against the state gener
ally, bnt only against the absolute state, to fight not the idea of
state, but the idea of bureaucracy, not for the full economic eman
cipation of the people, but for the removal of the burdens imposed
on the people by the tsarist autocracy. Of course, the agrarian
question lay at the root of all or nearly all manifestations of popu
lar dissatisfaction. Tt could not be otherwise among an agricul
tural population, where the power of the land is felt in absolutely
the whole m ake-up and needs of private and social life. This agrar
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
63
ian question kepi crying out for a solution, but it did not rouse
political discontent. The peasants waited calm and confident for
this question to bo solved from above: they rebelled not for a
redistribution of Ihe land, but against oppression by the adm inis
tration, against the excessive burdens of the taxation system,
against the Asiatic way in which arrears were collected, and so on and
so forth. The formula which applied to a large number of the cases
of active protest was the legal state , not Land and Freedom
(Zemlya i Volya) as it seemed to everybody at the time. But if
that was so, and if revolutionaries considered themselves obliged
to take part in the scattered and ill-considered struggle of isolated
communes against the absolute monarchy, was it not time they
understood the meaning of their own efforts and directed them
with greater purposefulness? Was it not time for them to call all
the progressive virile forces of Russia to Ihe struggle and, having
found a more general expression for it, to attack absolutism in
the very centre of its organisation? In answering these questions
in the affirmative, the members of Narodnaya Volya were only
summing up the revolutionary experience of previous years; in
raising the banner of political struggle, they only showed that they
were not afraid of the conclusions and consciously continued lo
follow the road which we had taken although we had an erroneous
idea of where it led to. Terrorism grew quite logically out of
our rebelliousness.
But w ith the appearance of Narodnaya Volya, the logical devel
opment of our revolutionary movement was already entering a
phase in which it could no longer be satisfied w ith the Narodnik
theories of the good old time, i.e., a time innocent of political
interests. Examples of theory being outgrown by practice are not
rare in the history of human thought in general and of revolution
ary thought in particular. When revolutionaries introduce some
change or other into their tactics or recast their programme one
way or another, often they do not even suspect what a serious test
they are giving the teachings generally acknowledged among them.
Many of them indeed perish in prison or on tho gallows, fully con
fident that they have worked in the spirit of those teachings, where
as in substance they represent new tendencies which took root
in the old theories but have already outgrown them and are ready
to find new theories to express them. So it has been w ith us since
the Narodnaya Volya trend consolidated. From the standpoint
of the old Narodnik theories, this trend could not stand criticism.
Narodism had a sharply negative attitude to any idea of the state;
Narodnaya Volya counted on putting its social-reform plans into
practice with the help of the state machine. Narodism refused
to have anything to do w ith politics"; Narodnaya Volya saw in
democratic political revolution" (lie most reliable means of
64
G. PLEK HA NO V
social reform. Narodism based its programme on tho so-called

ideals and demands of the peasant population; Narodnaya Volya
had to address itself m ainly to the urban and industrial popula
tion, and consequently to give an incomparably larger place in its
programme to the interests of that population. Briefly, in reality,
the Narodnaya Volya trend was the complete and all-round denial
of Narodism, and as long as the disputing parties appealed to the
fundamental propositions of the latter, the innovators were
completely in tho wrong: their practical work was in irreconcil
able contradiction w ith their theoretical views. It was necessary
completely to reconsider these views, so as to give Narodnaya
V olyas programme singleness of purpose and consistency; the
practical revolutionary activity of its supporters had to be at
least accompanied by a theoretical revolution in the minds of our
socialists; in blowing up the W inter Palace we had at the same
time to blow up our old anarchic and Narodnik traditions . 22
But here, too, the course of ideas lagged behind the course of
things" and it is still difficult to foresee when it w ill catch up at
last. Unable to make up their minds to break w ith Narodism, tho
new group was obliged to have recourse to fictions which brought
w ith them at least a semblance of a solution of the contradictions
inherent in their programme. The idea of Russian exceptionalism
received a new elaboration, and whereas previously it had led to
the complete rejection of politics, it now turned out that the excep
tionalism of Russian social development consisted precisely in
economic questions being and having to be solved in our country
by means of state interference. The extremely widespread igno
rance here in Russia of the economic history of the West provided
the reason why nobody was amazed at theories" of this kind.
The period of capitalist accumulation in Russia was contrasted
w ith the period of capitalist production in tho W est , 23 and the
inevitable dissim ilarity between these two phases of economic
development was cited as a most convincing proof of, first, our
exceptionalism and, second, the appropriateness of the Narodnuya Volya programme determined by that exceptionalism.
Need it be added that our revolutionary writers, like the major
ity of Russian writers generally, considered the West" from the
standpoint, of the Jewish boy in Weinbergs well-known story.
To this poor schoolboy the whole world seemed as though it were
divided into two equal parts: Russia and abroad, notable points
of distinction existing for him only between these two halves
of tho globe, but abroad seemed to him a completely homoge
neous whole. Russian writers, propagandists of exceptionalism,
introduced only one new thing into that clever geographical clas
sification: they divided abroad into East and West, and, not
stopping long to think, began to compare the latter writh our glo-
SOCIALISM AND THE POLIT IC AL ST RU GGLE
65
rions slate , which was ascribed the role of a kind of Middle E m

pire". The historical development of Ita ly was llius identified
with that of France and 110 distinction was seen between E n g land s
economic policy and Prussia's; Colbert's activity was lumped
together w ith Richard Cobdens and the peculiarly patriotic
physiognomy of Friedrich List was lost in the crowd of West
European political economists who followed Turgots advice
and tried to forget that in the world there are states separated by
frontiers and organised in different ways. Just as all cats appear
grey and resemble one another perfectly in the dark, so the social
relations of the various states in the YVesl lost, all distinction in
the reflected light of our exceptionalism. One thing was evident:
the Franks had already gone bourgeois" long ago, whereas the
brave Russians had preserved the prim itive innocence and
were advancing lo their salvation as a chosen people along the
road of exceptionalism. To reach the promised land they only had
to keep unswervingly to that path of exceptionalism and not be
surprised lhat the Russian socialists programmes contradicted the
scientific principles of West European socialism and sometimes
their own premises!
A typical sample of the fictions quickly thought out to conform
Narodnaya V olyas practical programme w ith Narodnik theories
was tho famous prophecy that if only we managed to achieve u n i
versal suffrage, 90 per cent of the deputies in the future Russian
Constituent Assembly would be supporters of the social revolution.
Here the theory of our exceptionalism reached the lim it beyond
which it was threatened w ith ruin by plain common sense. The
Narodniks of the old faith firmly held to their dogma of excep
tionalism but all the same adm itted lh a t this exceptionalism still
needed some finishing touches. Some found that, the Russian people
still had a too embryonic bum p ... sorry! feeling of bravery and
independence; others strove lo put the exceptionalist sentiment
of the Russian people into practice in the form of a no less origi
nal revolutionary organisation. But they all equally acknowl
edged the necessity for preliminary work among the people. Narod
naya Volya went further. In tho leading articles of the very first
issues of its journal it began lo develop the Ihoughl that such
work is, first, fruitless (wasting our energy beating about the peo
ple like a fish on the ice24) and, secondly, superfluous, because
90 per cent of the deputies sympathising with the social revolution
are more than enough to carry out the aspirations of the Russian
Narodniks. Narodnaya V olyas programme could not. have given
itself a Narodnik character otherwise than by carrying to absurd
extremes all the typical features of the Narodnik world outlook.
This is what constitutes the negative service of the fictions of
Narodnaya Volya. They aroused the critical thought of the RusT.
01323
66
G. PLEK H A N O V
sian revolutionaries by presenting to them in an exaggerated

form the exceptional features of their Narodnik programme.
Hut one can hardly say anything about the positive service of
these fictions. They temporarily strengthened the energy of the
fighters, who needed a theoretical foundation for their practical
work, but, being strung hastily together, they did not stand the
slightest impact of serious criticism, and by iheir fall they com
promised the cause of the struggle waged under their banner.
H aving dealt the death-blow to all the traditions of orthodox
Narodism by its practical activity and having done so much for
the development of the revolutionary movement in Russia, Narod
naya Volya cannot find a justification for itselfnor should it
seek oneoutside modern scientific socialism. But to adopt this
new standpoint it must make a thorough review of its programme,
for the theoretical errors arid gaps in that programme could not
but give it a definite one-sidedness in practice.
Before saying in which sense this review must be undertaken,
let us endeavour, according to our plan, to elucidate scientific
socialisms attitude to the political movements of the working
class.
II
B ut what is scientific socialism? Under that name we under

stand the communist teaching which began to take shape at the
beginning of the forties out of utopian socialism under the strong
influence of Hegelian philosophy on the one side, and of classical
economics on the other; the teaching which first really explained ,
lhe whole course of human cultural development, pitilessly shat
tered the bourgeois theoreticians sophisms and, armed with all
llie knowledge of its age , came out in defence of the proletariatThis teaching not only showed with complete clarity how unsound
scientifically are the opponents of socialism, but pointing out the
errors, it at the same time explained them historically and thus,
as Haym once said of Hegels philosophy, tied to its trium phal
chariot every opinion it had defeated . 25 As Darwin enriched biol
ogy w ith his amazingly simple and yet strictly scientific theory
of the origin of species, so also the founders of scientific socialism
showed us in the development of the productive forces and their
struggle against backward social conditions of production the
great principle of the variation of species of social organisation.
We hardly need to say whom we consider as the founders of this
socialism. This merit belongs indisputably to Karl Marx and Fre
derick Engels, whose doctrine stands in exactly the same relation'
to the modern revolutionary movement in civilised hum anity as,
in the words of one of them, advanced German philosophy stood
in its time to the emancipation movement in Germany; it is its
SOCIALISM
AND THE
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
6T
head, and I lie proletariat is its heart. But it goes w ithout saying
that tho development of scientific socialism is not complete and
can 110 more stop at the works of Engels and Marx than the theory
of the origin of species could he considered as finally elaborated
with tho publication of the principal works of the English biolo
gist. The establishment of the basic propositions of the new teach
ing must be followed by the detailed elaboration of questions
pertaining to it, an elaboration which will supplement and com
plete the revolution carried out in science by the authors of the
Manifesto of the Communist P a r ty * There is not a single branch
of sociology which would not acquire a new and extraordinarily
vast field of vision by adopting their philosophical and historical
views. The beneficial influence of those views is already beginning
to be fell in the fields of history, law and so-called primitive cullure. But this philosophical and historical aspect of modern social
ism is still too little known in Russia, and therefore we do not
consider it superfluous to quote a few excerpts here, in order to
acquaint our readers w ith it in M arxs own words.
Incidentally, although scientific socialism traces its genealogy
from Kant and Ilegel", il is nevertheless the most deadly and
resolute opponent of idealism. It drives it out of its Iasi refuge
sociology in which it was received with such delight by the posi
tivists. Scientific socialism presupposes the materialist concep
tion of history, i.e., it explains the spiritual history of hum anity
by the development of social relations (among other things under
lhe influence of surrounding nature). From this point of view, as
also from lhat of Vico, the course of ideas corresponds to the course
of Ihings. and not inversely. The principal cause of this or that
make-up of social relations, this or that direction in (heir development. is the condition of the productive forces and the economic
structure of society corresponding to them. In the social produc
tion of their life, says M a rx .* * men enter into definite relationsthat are indispensable and independent of their w ill, relationsof production which correspond to a definite stage of development
of Iheir material productive forces. The sum-total of these rela
tions of production constitutes the economic structure of society,
the real foundation, on which rises a legal and political superstruc
ture and to which correspond definite forms of social consciousness^
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.) Later. Messrs. lhe Vrit ics of Marx reproached'
ns, the "orthodox, of revolting against every attempt to develop Marxs
views further. The render sees that I showed no tendency to such a revolt.
Rut it (foes without saying that, as a pupil of Marx who understands the
great significance of his theory, I had to revolt against every attempt to
rcplacc some propositions of Marxism by old, long obsolete bourgeois dog
mas. And I fulfilled that obligation to the best of my ability.
** See Zur Kritik der polltischen Oekon., Vonvort, S. IV-VI.28
5*
68
G. P LEK HA NO V
The modi* of production of material life conditions ihe social,

political and intellectual life process in general. It is not Ihe
consciousness of men that determines their being, but, on the con
trary, their social being that determines their consciousness....
Legal relations as well as forms of state are to be grasped neither
from themselves nor from the so-called general development of
the hum an m ind, but rather have Lheir roots in the material condi
tions of life, the sum-total of which Ilegel, following the example
of the Englishmen and Frenchmen of the eighteenth century, com
bines under the name of civil society , th a l, however, the anatomy
of civil society is to be sought in political economy__ A t a cer
tain stage of their development, the material productive forces
of society come in conflict with ihe existing relations of produc
tion. orwhat is but a legal expression for the same thin g with
the properly relations w ithin which they have been at work hither
to. From forms of development of the productive forces these rela
tions turn into lheir fetters. Then begins an epoch of social revolu
tion. W ith the change of the economic foundation the entire im
mense superstructure is more or less rapidly transformed....
No social order ever perishes before all the productive forces for
which there is room in it have developed; and new, higher relations
of production never appear before the material conditions of their
existence have matured in the womb of the old society itself.
Therefore mankind always sets itself only such tasks as it can
solve; since, looking at Ihe matter more closely, it w ill always
be found that the task itself arises only when the material con
ditions for its solution already exist or are at least in the process
of formation.
It is now understandable why Marx and Engels reacted with
such scornful derision to tho true socialists in Germany at the
end of the forties ,27 who adopted a negative attitude to the German
bourgeoisies struggle against absolutism, preaching to the masses
th a t they had nothing to gain, and everything to lose, by this bour
geois movement . 28 The historical teaching of Marx and Engels
is the genuine algebra of the revolution , as Herzen once called
Hegels philosophy . 23 That is why Marx and Engels sympathised
w ith every revolutionary movement against the existing social
and political order of things ; and for Ihe same reason ihey warmly
sympathised with the Russian movement, which made Russia,
as they said, the vanguard of Ihe revolution in Europe .30
But despite all their clarity and unambiguousness, Marxs
views gave occasion for many misunderstandings in the field of
revolutionary theory and practice. Thus, it is often said in our
country that the theories of scientific socialism are inapplicable
to Russia because they have their root in West European economic
relations. To Marxs teaching is attributed the absurd conclusion
i
|
|
|
SOCIALISM AND THE POLIT IC AL STRUGGLE
69
lhat Russia nnist go through exactly the same phases of historical

and economic development as Ihe West. Influenced by the convic
tion that this conclusion is inevitable, more than one Russian
philosopher, fam iliar neither w ith Marx nor w ith the history of
Western Europe, entered the lists against the author of Capital
and accused him of narrow and stereotyped views. This, of course,
was tillin g at w indm ills. Our Don Quixotes did not understand
that Ihe history of W'est European relations was used by Marx
only as the basis of the history of capitalist production, which
emerged and developed precisely in that part of the world. Marx's
general philosophical and historical views stand in exactly tho
same relation to modern Western Europe as to Greece and Rome.
India and Egypt .They embrace the entire cultural history of hum an
ity and can be inapplicable to Russia only if they are generally
untenable. It goes w ithout saying that neither the author of Capi
tal nor his famous friend and colleague lost sight of the economic
peculiarities of any particular country; only in those peculiarities
do they seek the explanation of all a countrys social, political
and intellectual movements. That they do not ignore the signifi
cance of our village commune is revealed by the fact that as re
cently as January 1882 they did not. consider it possible to make
any decisive forecast concerning its destiny. In the preface to our
translation of the Manifesto of the Communist Party (Geneva,
1882)*1 they even say explicitly that under certain conditions the
Russian village commune may pass directly to the higher form
of communist common ownership. These circumstances are. in
their opinion, closely connected w ith the course of the revolution
ary movement, in the west of Europe and in Russia. If the Rus
sian revolution, they say, becomes the signal for a proletarian
revolution in the West, so that both complement each other, Ih e
present Russian common ownership of land may serve as the start
ing-point for a communist development." (Manifesto of the Com
munist Party, V I II .) It w ill hardly occur to a single Narodnik to
deny that the solution of the village commune question depends
on such a condition. Hardly anybody will assert that the oppres
sion by the modern state is favourable to the development or even
10 the mere maintenance of the commune. And in exactly the same
way hardly anyone who understands Ih e significance of interna
tional relations in the economic life of modern civilised societies
can deny that the development of the Russian village commune
into a higher form of communist common ownership is closely
linked with the destiny of the working-class movement in Ihe W est.
11 thus turns out that nothing in Marxs views on Russia contra
dicts the rnosl obvious reality, and Ihe absurd prejudices concern
ing his extreme Occidentalism have not Ihe slightest trace of
reasonable foundation.
70
G. P LEK H A N O V
But there is another misunderstanding which directly concerns

a question interesting us the significance of political struggle
in the reorganisation of social relations and takes root in an erro
neous understanding of M arxs view of the role of the economic
factor in the hum an cultural development. This view has often
been interpreted by many in the sense that the author of Capital
attributes only the slightest importance to the political structure
of society, considering it as a secondary detail not worth attention
and which, far from being the aim, cannot even be a means of fruit
ful activity. Even now, one not unfrequently meets Marxists
who ignore the political tasks of socialism on these very grounds.
Economic relations, they say, are the basis of all social organi
sation. Changes in these relations are the cause of all political reor
ganisation. In order to free itself from capitalist oppression, the
working class must bear in m ind not the effect, but the cause, not
the political, but the economic organisation of society. Political
organisation w ill not bring the workers nearer to their goal, since
political enslavement w ill continue as long as their economic de
pendence on the propertied classes is not removed. The means
of struggle which the workers use must be brought into line with
the aim of the struggle. An economic revolution can be achieved
only by struggle on economic ground.
W ith a certain amount of consistency, Marxism understood
in that way should have changed the socialists views of the aims
and the means of the social revolution and brought them back to
Proudhons famous formula: political revolution is the aim, eco
nomic revolution, the means. In exactly the same way it should
have brought the socialist-revolutionaries considerably nearer
at least in theory to the followers of conservative socialism
which so resolutely opposes independent political action on the
part of the working class.32 Rodbertus, the last honest and in te lli
gent representative of this socialism, was unable to agree w ith
Lassalle precisely because that celebrated agitator endeavoured
to advance the German workers along the path of independent
political activity. Not Marx, but Rodbertus, not revolutionary,
but conservative, monarchist socialism denies the significance of
political admixtures to the economic aims of the working class.
And the conservatives know fu ll well why they do so; but those
who wish to conciliate the revolutionary movement of the working
class w ith the rejection of politics , those who attribute to Marx
the practical tendencies of Proudhon or even of Rodbertus, show
clearly that they do not understand the author of Capital or that
they deliberately distort his teaching. We speak of deliberate
distortion because a certain book by the Moscow Professor Ivanyukov is nothing but such a deliberate distortion of the consequences
following from the basic propositions of scientific socialism.33
71
This book shows that our Russian police socialists are not averse
to exploiting for thoir reactionary aims even a theory under whose
banner the most revolutionary movement of our age is proceeding.
This alone could make a detailed elucidation of modern social
ism's political programme indispensable. We w ill now begin that
elucidation, w ithout, however, entering into a controversy w ith
Messrs. Ivanyukov, for it is sufficient to bring out the true sense
of a given theory in order to refute deliberate distortions of it.
And besides, wo are far more interested here in those revolution
aries who, for a ll the sincerity of their aspirations, are still per
meated, although perhaps unconsciously, w ith anarchist teachings
and are therefore prepared to see in Marxs works thoughts which
are in place only in The General Idea of the Revolution in the Nine
teenth Century ,34 The criticism of the conclusions they draw from
Marxs philosophical and historical views will logically take us
on to the question of the so-called seizure of power and w ill show
us how far they are right who see in that act a crime against the
idea of human liberty, and also those who, on the contrary, see
it as the A lpha and the Omega of the whole social-revolutionary
movement.
Let us first consider what the concepts of cause and effect sig
nify when applied to social relations.
If we push a b illiard ball w ith the hand or a cue, it is set in mo
tion; if we strike steel against a flint, a spark appears. In each of
these cases it is very easy to determine which phenomenon acts
as the cause and which is the effect. But the task is easy only be
cause it is extremely simple. If instead of two isolated phenomena
ssO take a process in which several phenomena or even several series
of phenomena are observed simultaneously, the matter is more
complicated. Thus, the burning of a candle is, relatively speaking,
a fairly complicated process as a result of which light and heat are
produced. Hence it would seem that we run no risk of error if we
call the heat given off by the flame one of the effects of this chemical
process. That is, indeed, the case to a certain extent. But if we
contrived in some way to deprive tho flame of the heat which
it gives off, the combustion would immediately ceasc, for the pro
cess we are considering cannot take place at the ordinary temper
ature. Therefore, it would also be right to a certain extent to say
that heat is the cause of combustion. In order not to deviate from
the truth in one direction or the other we should say that heat,
while it is the effect of combustion at a particular moment, is its
cause the moment following. This means that when we speak of
a combustion process lasting a certain time we must say that heat
is both its effect and its cause, or, in other words, neither effect nor
cause, but sim ply one of the phenomena arising from that process
and constituting, in turn, a necessary condition for it. Let us take
72
G. P LE K H A N O V
another example. Everybody, even if he has not been trained in

a seminary, knows thal w hal are called the vegetative processes
of the human organism exert great influence on psychic phenomena.
One mental disposition or other proves to be thv effect of a partic
ular physical condition of the organism. But once a certain mental
disposition exists, the same vegetative processes are often influenced
by it, and it thus becomes the cause of the particular changes
in the physical condition of the organism. In order not to go wrong
here in one direction or the other, we should say that the psychic
phenomena and the vegetative life of the organism constitute two
series of coexisting processes, each of which is influenced by the
oilier. If a doctor were to ignore psychic influences on the grounds
that m ans mental disposition is the effect of 1 he physical condi
tion of his organism, we would infer that schoolboy logic had
made him unfit for rational medical practice.
Social life is distinguished by still greater intricacy than the
life of the individual organism. That is why the relativity of Ihe
concepts of cause and effect is more noticeable here. According to
t be teaching of classical economics, the size of wages is determined,
on the average, by Ihe level of the workers primary requirements.
This means that a given size of wages is the effect of a given condi
tion of the workers requirements. But these requirements, in
turn, can grow only if there is a rise in wages, because otherwise
Ihere would not be sufficient cause to change their level. Conse
quently, a given size of wages is the cause of a given condition of the
workers requirements. One cannot get out of this logical circle
by means of the schoolboy categories of cause and effect. We shall
fall into it at every step in our sociological considerations if we
forget that cause and effect are conceptions which only hold good
in their application to individual cases; but as soon as we consider
llie individual cases in their general connection with the universe
as a whole, I hey run into each other, and they become confounded
when we contemplate that universal action and reaction in which
causes and effects are eternally changing places, so that what is
effect here and now w ill be cause there and then, and vice versa.
(Frederick Engels . ) * 36
Having made this reservation, let us endeavour to determine
in what sense the causal connection between the economic rela
tions and the political structure of a given society must be under
stood.
Wliat does history teach us in Ibis respect? It shows lhat when
ever and wherever ihe process of economic development gave rise
to a s p liltin g of society into classes, the contradictions between
the interests of those classes invariably led them lo struggle for
* See Herrn Eugen Duhring's Umwalz. der Wtssensch., S. 6.
7J
political dom ination. This struggle arose not only between the
various strata of the dom inating classes, but also between those
classes, on the one hand, and the people, on the other, provided
the latter was given conditions at all favourable to intellectual
development. In the states of the ancient Orient we see the struggle
between the soldiers and tho priests; all the drama in the history
of the ancient world is in the struggle between the aristocracy and
the demos, the patricians and the plebeians; the Middle Ages bring
forth the burghers, who strive to conquer political mastery w ithin
the bounds of their communes; finally, the present-day working
class wages a political struggle against lhe bourgeoisie, which
has achieved complete dom ination in the modern state. Always
and everywhere, political power has been the lever by which a
class, having achieved dom ination, has carried out the social up
heaval necessary for its welfare and development. So as not to go
too far afield, let us consider the history of the third estate", the
class that can look with pride at its past, full of brilliant achieve
ments in all branches of life and thought. It. w ill hardly occur
to anybody to reproach the bourgeoisie w ith lack of tact or a bility
to attain its aims by the most appropriate means. Nor w ill anybody
deny that its strivings have always had a quite definite economic
character. But that did not prevent it from following the path of
political struggle and political gains. Now by arms, now by peace
treaties, sometimes for the republican independence of its towns,
sometimes for the strengthening of royal power, the rising bour
geoisie waged a hard, uninterrupted struggle against feudalism for
whole centuries, and long before the French Revolution it could
proudly draw its enemies attention to its successes. The chances
were different and the success varying in the great struggle of the
burghers against the feudal lords, the historian says.* and not
only was the sum of privileges wrested from them by force or ob
tained by agreement not the same everywhere, but even when the
political forms were the same there were different degrees of liber
ty and independence for the towns. Nevertheless, the sense of the
movement was identical everywhere it meant the beginning
of the social emancipation of the third estate and the decline of the
aristocracy, secular and ecclesiastical.** Tn general this move
ment brought the burghers m unicipal independence, the ri^ht
* See Essai sur Vhisioire du Tiers Etat, par. Aug. Thierry, pp. 33-34.
** The supporters of feudalism understood full well the aims of the
burghers and the connection between their political and their economic
demands. Commune is a new and detestable word." said Guibcrt, abbe de
Nogent, and here is what it means: those who have to pay tithes pay only
once a year to their lord the rent they owe him. If they commit some offence,
they arc quit for the payment of a fine fixed by law, and as for the money
levies usually made from serfs, they are entirely exempt from them. Lau
rent, La fiodalil6 et
p. 546.
74
G. P LEK HA NO V
lo elect all the local authorities, the exact fixing of duties, gua
ranteed the rights of the individual inside the town communes,*
gave the bourgeoisie a more elevated position in the estate-based
states of the ancien regime, and finally, by a series of continuous
gains, brought it to complete dom ination in modern society.
Setting itself social and economic aims which were perfectly de
fined although they changed w ith time, and drawing means to continue the struggle from the advantages of the economic position
which it had already attained, the bourgeoisie did not miss an
opportunity of giving legal expression to the stages in economic
progress which it had reached; on the contrary, it made just as
skilful a use of each political gain for new conquests in the economic
field. No further back than in the middle forties of this century the
English Anti-Corn Law League, following Richard Cobdens clev
er plan, aimed at increasing its political influence in the shires in
order to secure the abolition of the monopoly it hated and which,
apparently, was exclusively economic.36
History is the greatest of dialecticians. If in the course of its
progress, reason, as Mephistopheles says, is changed into irration
ality and blessings become a plague, not less often in the histor
ical process does an effect become a cause and a cause prove to be
an effect. Arising from the economic relations of its time, the
political might of the bourgeoisie in its turn served, and still
serves, as an indispensable factor for the further development of
those relations.
Now that the bourgeoisie is nearing the end of its historical role
and that the proletariat is becoming the only representative of
progressive strivings in society, we can observe a phenomenon
sim ilar to the one referred to above, but taking place in changed
conditions. In all the advanced states of the civilised world, in
Europe as well as America, the working class is entering the arena
of political struggle and the more it is conscious of its economic
tasks, the more resolutely it separates into a political party of
its own. As the existing political parties have always acted only
in the interests of property-owners for the preservation of their
economic privileges, we read in the programme of the North
American Socialist Workers Party, the working class must
organise into a big workers party to achieve political power in the
state and gain economic independence; for the emancipation of
the working class can be effected only by the workers them
selves.** The French Workers Party expresses itself in the same
spirit and in complete agreement w ith the programme of German
*
The Statute of Liege established the principle of the in v io la b ility
of the home in the follow ing forceful expression: The poor m an is kin g in
his home." Laurent, ibid ., p. 548.
** Von S tudn itz, N ordam erikanische Arbeiterverhaltnisse, S. 353.
75
Social-Domocracy, acknowledging that the proletariat must as

pire to an economic revolut ion by all means in its power, includ
ing universal franchise, thus transformed from a weapon of de
ceit, which it has been up to now, into a weapon of emancipation".
The Spanish Workers Party also strives to conquer political
power in order to remove the obstacles in the way of the emanci
pation of the working class.*
In England, where, w ith the ending of the Chartist movement,
the struggle of the proletariat has been concentrated exclusively
on the economic field, the political aspirations of the workers have
begun to revive of late. O nly a few years ago, the German econo
mist Lujo Brentano noted w ith trium ph in his book Das Arbeitsverhdltniss, etc. the complete disappearance of the Social-Democratic. trends in England, and philosophised profoundly and w ith
true bourgeois self-satisfaction 011 the subject that at present Eng
land again constitutes a single nation, that the English workers
of our time again form part of the great Liberal Party and do
not strive to seize state power in order, by means of it, to reor
ganise society in lheir own interests (p. 1 1 0 ).37The recently pub
lished Manifesto of the British Democratic Federation 38 shows thal
Ihe bourgeois economists joy was somewhat premature. The Demo
cratic Federation aims at causing the exploited to break away
politically from the exploiters and calls on the first of these naI ions precisely to seize state power for the purpose of reconstruct
ing society in the interests of the workers. The time has come,
says {ha Manifesto, when the mass of the people must necessarily
lake the management of matters which concern it in its own hands;
at present, political and social power is the monopoly of people
who live by the labour of their fellow-citizens. The landowners
and capitalists who have control of the Upper House and have
filled the Lower House aspire only to safeguard their own interests.
Take your fate in your own hands, remove the rich parasites of
these two groups and rely only on yourselves! The Manifesto
demands fu ll franchise for all. adult men and women in the United
Kingdom, and other political reforms which would only show
that, the men and women of this country have become the masters
at home. Then comes a lis trepresenting the immediate demands
of the British Democratic Federation of measures necessary
for Ihe development of a healthy, independent and soundly edu
cated generation, ready to organise the labour of each for the good
of all and to take control, ultimately, of the entire social and political
machine of the state, in which class differences and privileges w ill
then cease to exist.
* We quote this from R. Malons Le noumau parti, t. I, p. 15.
76
G. PLEK HA NO V
Thus, the British proletariat, too, is again entering on the path

which lhe workers of other civilised states entered upon long ago.
But, as the bourgeoisie not only fought the aristocracy on the
basis of already existing political relations, but aspired to reshape
those relations in its own interests, so also the proletariat does not
restrict its political programme to the seizure of the modern state
machine. The conviction is more and more spreading among its
members that every order of things which determines the rela
tions of citizens to one another and governs their labour and prop
erty relations corresponds to a particular form of government
which is at the same time the means of im plem enting and pre
serving that order .* W hile the representative (monarchic or repub
lican) system was the progeny of the bourgeoisie, the proletariat
demands direct popular legislation as the only political form under
which its social aspirations can be put into effect. This demand of
the working class is among the first in the programme of SocialDomocracy in all countries and is very closely related to all the
other points in its programme.** In spite of Proudhon, tho prole
tariat continues to see in the political revolution the most power
ful means of achieving an economic revolution.
This testimony of history alone should incline us to think that
the political tendencies of the various social classes are based on
a correct practical instinct, and not on an erroneous theory. If,
despite the complete dissim ilarity in all other respects, all classes
which wage a conscious struggle against their opponents begin
at a definite stage in their development to strive to ensure for them
selves political influence and later dom ination, it is clear that the
political structure of society is a far from indifferent condition
for their development. If, moreover, we see that not a single class
which has achieved political dom ination has had cause to regret
its interest in politics, but on the contrary, that each one of
them attained the highest, the culm inating point of its develop
ment only after it had acquired political dom ination, then we
must adm it that the political struggle is an instrument of social
reconstruction whose effectiveness is proved by history. Every
teaching which runs counter to this historical induction loses a
considerable part of its power of conviction, and if modern social
ism were in fact to condemn the political striving of tho working
class as inexpedient, that would be sufficient reason not to call
it scientific.
*
See Sozialdemohratische Abhnndlungen, von M. Rittinghausen, drittes
Heft, tjbor die Nothwendigkeit der direkten Gesetzgebung durch das Volk",
S. 3.
** See the programmes of the German and the North American Workers
parties. The Manifesto of the British Democratic Federation also demands
"diroct voting on nil important quostions.
SOCIALISM AND THE POLIT IC AL ST RUGGLE
77
Let us now check our induction by the deductive method, taking

Marx's philosophical and historical views as the premises for our
conclusions.
I magi lie a society in which a particular class is completely dom i
nant. It secured this dom ination thanks to the advantages of its
economic position which, according to our premises, open before
it Ihe path lo all other successes in social life. In its capacity as
the ruling class it naturally reshapes social organisation to pro
vide Ihe most favourable conditions for its own existence and care
fully removes from it all lhat can in any way weaken its influence.
Those in power, the m ighty, in every period, Schaffle correctly
notes, "are also the ones who create law and morality. They only
apply the urge of self-preservation inherent in all when they exploit
the consequences of their victory, instal themselves as rulers at
the top and endeavour to m aintain dom ination hereditary as long
as possible, as the means to a privileged situation and the exploita
tion and subjection of those who are not free.... There is hardly
another section of positive law for which the dom inating estates
in every period have such great respect and for which they v in d i
cate so much the character of eternal inst itutions or even sacred
foundations of society as that which has consolidated and safe
guards the right of their estate and Ihe dom ination of their class. *
And as long as the dom inating class is the vehicle of the most
progressive social ideals, the system it has set up w ill satisfy all
the demands of social development. But as soon as the economic
history of a particular society brings forward new elements of
a progressive movement, as soon as the productive forces of so
ciety coine in conflict w ith the existing relations of production,
orwhat is but a legal expression for the same thingw ith the
property relations w ithin which they have been at. work hitherto,
the progressive role of the ruling class in question w ill be over.
From a representative of progress it w ill become its sworn enemy
and, of course, it w ill make use of the state machine for self-de
fence. In its hands political power will become the most powerful
weapon of reaction. To free tho road for the development of the
productive forces of society it is necessary to remove the property
relations which hinder that development, i.e., as Marx says, lo
carry out a social revolution. But that is impossible as long as
legislative power is in Ihe hands of the old order, in other words,
as long as it, safeguards tho interests of the ruling class. It is there
fore not astonishing that innovators, i.e., representatives of the
oppressed class or classes, w ill strive to wrest this terrible weapon
out of the hands of their opponents and turn it against them. The
very logic of things w ill bring them out on to the road of political
* See Schaffle Rau und Leben des sozialen KSrpers. B. I l l , S. 91 und 102.
78
G. P LE K H A N O V
struggle and seizure of stale power, although they set themselves

the task ol' an economic revolution. Lassalle uttered a profound
truth when lie said in the preface to his System of Acquired Rights:
...where juridical right as private right seems to become entirely
detached from the political element, it is far more political than
the political element, for there it is the social element.*
In practical life, of course, things are far from going as fast as one
m ight suppose, judging a priori. O nly gradually does the oppressed
class become dear about the connection between its economic
position and its political role in the state. For a long time it does
not understand even its economic task to the full. The individuals
composing it wage a hard struggle for their daily subsistence w ith
out even thinking which aspects of the social organisation they
owe their wretched condition to. They try to avoid the blows aimed
at them w ithout asking where they come from or by whom, in the
final analysis, they are aimed. As yet they have 110 class conscious
ness and there is 110 guiding idea in their struggle against in div id
ual oppressors. The oppressed class does not yet exist for itself;
in time it w ill be the advanced class in society, but it is not yet
becoming such. Facing the consciously organised power of the rul
ing class are separate individual strivings of isolated individuals
or isolated groups of individuals. Even now, for example, we fre
quently enough meet a worker who hates the particularly intensive
exploiter but does not yet suspect that the whole class of exploiters
must be fought and the very possibility of exploitation of man by
man removed.
Little by little , however, the process of generalisation takes
effect, and tho oppressed begin to be conscious of themselves as
a class. But, their understanding of the specific features of their
class position still remains too one-sided: the springs and motive
forces of the social mechanism as a whole are still hidden from their
m in d s eye. The class of exploiters appears to them as tho simple
sum of individual employers, not connected by the threads of polit
ical organisation. At this stage of development it is not. yet clear
in the minds of the oppressed any more than in Professor Lorenz
von S teinswhat connection exists between society" and state.
State power is presumed to stand above the antagonisms of the
classes; its representatives appear to be the natural judges and
conciliators of the hostile sides. The oppressed class lias complete
trust in them and is extremely surprised when its requests for help
remain unanswered by them. W itho u t dwelling on particular exam
ples, we w ill merely note that such confusion of concepts was dis
played even recently by the British workers, who waged quite
*
See Das System der erworbenen Reckte, Leipzig, 1880, erstcr Theilt
Vorrede, S. V II.
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
79
an onergetio stru g g le in tho e c o n o m ic field and yet considered it

possible to b e lo n g to one of the bourg eois p o litic a l parties.
Only in the next and last stage of development does the oppressed
class come to a thorough realisation of its position. It now
realises the connection between society and state, and it does not
appeal for the curbing of its exploiters to those who constitute
the political organ of that exploitation. It knows lhat the state
is a fortress serving as the bulwark and defence of its oppressors,
a fortress which the oppressed can and must capture and reorgan
ise for their own defence and which they cannot bypass, counting
on its neutrality. Relying only on themselves, the oppressed
begin to understand that political self-help , as Lange says,
is the most important of a ll forms of social self-help. They then
fight for political domination in order to help themselves by
changing the existing social relations and adapting the social
system to the conditions of their own development and welfare.
Neither do they, of course, achieve domination immediately;
they only gradually become a formidable power precluding all
thought of resistance by their opponents. Fur a long lime they
fight only for concessions, demand only such reforms as would
give thom not dom ination, but merely tho possibility to develop
and mature for future domination; reforms which would satisfy
the most urgent and immediate of lheir demands and extend, if
only slightly, the sphere of their influence over the countrys social
life. Only by going through the hard school of the struggle for
separate little picces of enemy territory does the oppressed class
acquire the persistence, the daring, and the development neces
sary for the decisive battle. But once it has acquired those
qualities it can look at its opponents as at a class finally con
demned by history; it need have no doubt about its victory. W hat is
called the revolution is only the last act in the long drama of
revolutionary class struggle which becomes conscious only insofar
as it becomes a political struggle.*
The question is now: would it be expedient for the socialists
to hold the workers back from politics" on the grounds that the
political structure of society is determined by its economic rela
tions? Of course not! They would be depriving the workers of
a fulcrum in their struggle, they would be depriving them of the
possibility of concentrating their efforts and aiming their blows
at the social organisation set up by the exploiters. Instead, the
workers would have to wage guerrilla warfare against individual
*
(Note to the 1905 edition.] These lines were written 15 years before
Bernstein came forward as a critic of Marx. Let the reader judge for h im
self whether the critic and his numerous fellow-thinkers are right when
they reproach us, the orthodox", with understanding the revolution of the
proletariat as a simple and almost instantaneous "catastrophe.
80
G. P LEKHANOV
exploiters, or at most separate groups of those exploiters, who

would always have on their side the organised power of the state.
This was the kind of mistake the Russian socialists from among
the so-called intelligentsia made when they censured the Northern
Union of Russian Workers (in No. 4 of Zemlya i Volya) for having
included certain political demands in its programme. 39 The same
mistake was repeated by Zerno10 when it recommended that the
workers should wage the struggle on economic ground, fight for
a shorter working day, higher wages, etc., that they should kill
spies and particularly hated foremen and employers, but did not
say a word about the political tasks of the Russian workers. This
lack of synthesis in our socialists revolutionary views and pro
grammes could not fail to have the most damaging effect on the
results of their work. By preserving the political indifference of the
workers as a most important sign of the radical nature of their
economic demands, we gave indirect support to modern absolutism.
Moreover, by cutting short our programmes at the very point
where we should have summed up politically the social demands of
the working class, we were dim inishing the practical significance
of those programmes in the eyes of the workers, who understood
better than we did the utter fu tility of the divided struggle
against individual exploiters. Fortunately, our working-class
movement very soon outgrew this first phase of its development.
The answer given by the Northern Union of Russian Workers to
the editors of Zemlya i Volya (see No. 5 of that publication) showed
that at least the members of the Union had understood earlier
than our intelligentsia how inappropriate was this political
non-interference of the working class. 41
A ll that is very well, some readers may say, but your arguments
are not to the point. We do not deny, they may argue, that it
would be useful for the working class to gain political influence
and take state power in its own hands; we only m aintain that at
present that is impossible for many reasons. Your reference to
the history of the bourgeoisie proves nothing, for the position of
the proletariat in bourgeois society is nothing like that of the
third estate in the states of the ancien regime ! Even Marx admits
the difference and formulates it as follows in the Manifesto of the
Communist Party. The serf, in the period of serfdom, raised him
self to membership in the commune, just as the petty bourgeois,
under the yoke of feudal absolutism, managed to develop into
a bourgeois. The modern labourer, on the contrary, instead of rising
with the progress of industry, sinks deeper and deeper below the
conditions of existence of his own class. He becomes a pauper, and
pauperism develops more rapidly than population and wealth in
bourgeois countries . 42 There is nothing surprising in tho fact that
every progressive step made by the bourgeoisie in the domain of
81
production and exchange was accompanied by the corresponding

political conquests; everybody knows lhat improvement in the
material welfare of any particular class is accompanied by the
growth of its political influence. But the very fact that the politi
cal gains of the bourgeoisie presupposed an increase in its wealth
makes us abandon any hopes in the political movements of the
working class. Falling deeper and deeper into pauperism , the
workers apparently must lose even the little influence which
they won in the struggle for the interests of the bourgeoisie,
fighting the enemies of their enemiesthe remnants of absolute
monarchy, the landowners, the non-industrial bourgeois , and so
on. The political struggle of the working class is purposeless
because it is doomed to failure by virtue of the economic posi
tion of the workers.
For all its inner untenability, this objection seems at first,
glance so decisive as not to be passed over in silence. It is the
last argument of those supporters of the theory of political non
interference who consider themselves followers of Marx.* There
fore, if it is disposed of, the theory of non-interference falls away
altogether and the political tasks of modern socialism stand out
in their true light.
The working classs share in the national product is constantly
dim inishing there is not a shade of doubt about that. The working
class is becoming poorer not only relatively, but absolutely too;
its income, far from increasing in the same progression as those
of other classes in society, is falling; the real wages of the modern
proletarian (the quantity of consumer goods falling to his share)
are less than the workers pay was five hundred years ago43
this has been proved by the studies of Rogers, Du Chatelel 41 and
others.** But it by no means follows from this that the economic
conditions are at present less favourable to the political movement
of the working class than they were in the fourteenth century.
*
INote lo the 1905 edition.] This will seem paradoxical, but in actual
fact the theory of political non-interference of the working class was formu
lated by Rakunin as a conclusion from the materialist explanation of history.
Bakunin, who was an ardent supporter of this explanation, reasoned as
follows: if the political system of every given society is based on its economy,
then political revolution is unnecessary, it w ill itself be the result of the
economic revolution. This man, once a pupil of Hegel and who, it seems,
should have refined his logic, just could not understand that not only every
particular ready-made political system is a result of economics, but so is
every uew political movement which, springing from the given economic
relations, serves in turn as a neccssary instrument for their reconstruction.
All the most serious objections of the anarchists against the Social-Democrats
are still founded on this misunderstanding.
** |Note to the 1905 edition.] This concerns the theory of impoverishment
which caused such a stir at the hoyday of liernsteinians. On this subject,
see my Criticism of Our Critics in Nos. 2 and 3 of Zarya.ih
8 - U I3 2 9
82
G. PLEK H A N O V
We have already said that in thus appraising the economic

conditions in a particular country one must take into account
not only the distribution of the national income, but m ainly the
organisation of production and the mode of exchange of products.
The strength of the rising bourgeoisie lay not so much in its wealth
as in the social and economic progress of which it was once the
vehicle. It was not the increase in its income that impelled it to
take the path of revolutionary struggle and guaranteed the growth
of its political influence; it was the contradiction between the
productive forces it brought into existence and the conditions
under which the production and exchange of products took place
in feudal society. H aving once become the representative of pro
gressive demands in that society, the bourgeoisie rallied all the
dissatisfied elements under its banner and led them to fight
against a regime which the overwhelming majority of the people
hated. Not money, but the im m aturity of the working class gave
the bourgeoisie, the leading role in that emancipation movement.
Its wealth and its already fairly high social position were natu
rally indispensable for the fulfilment of this role; but what was
that indispensability determined by? First of all by the fact
that the bourgeoisie could not destroy the old order without assis
tance from the lower strata of the population. In this its wealth
helped it by giving it influence over the masses which were to
fight for its domination. Had the bourgeoisie not been rich it
would have had no influence, and without influence over the
people it would not have defeated the aristocracy; for the bour
geoisie was strong not of itself, but by virtue of the power which
it had already mastered and which it commanded thanks to its
capital. The question now arises, is it possible for the proletariat
to have such influence over another class of the population, and
does it need such influence to be victorious? It is enough to ask the
question and we hear a resolute No! from everybody who under
stands the present position of the working class. It is impossible
for the proletariat to influence lower classes in the way the bour
geoisie once influenced it, for the simple reason that there are no
classes below it; the proletariat itself is the very lowest economic
group in modern society. Nor is there any need for it to aim at
such influence, because it is at the same time the most numerous
section in society, because precisely the proletariat, with other
sections of the working population, has always been the agent
whose intervention has decided political issues. We say the most
numerous class because all the other classes decay and finally
disappear in the face of modern industry; the proletariat is its
special and essential product. The lower middle class, the small
manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, the peasant, all these
fight against the bourgeoisie, to save from extinction their existence-
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL S T R l'G G L E
83
as fractions of the middle class. They are therefore ... conserva

tive. Nay more, they are reactionary, for they try to roll back
the wheel of history. If by chance they are revolutionary, they
are so only in view of thoir impending transfer into the proletary
iat, they thus defend not their present, but their future interests,
they desert their own standpoint to place themselves at that of
the proletariat " . 46
Formerly the working class was victorious under tho command
of the bourgeoisie, and it only naively wondered at the strange
fact that nearly all the difficulties in the struggle fell to its lot
while nearly all the advantages and honours of victory went to
its ally. Now it is not satisfied w ith this auxiliary role and it
turns against the bourgeoisie the very strength which once secured
the latters victory. But that strength is now much greater. It
has grown and is continuing to grow in the same measure as the
concentration of capital and the spread of large-scale production.
Besides, it has grown in the same measure as the political experi
ence of the working class, which tho bourgeoisie itself brought into
the social arena. Can there be any doubt that the proletariat,
which, when led by the bourgeoisie, was once strong enough to
destroy feudal absolutism, w ill in time be strong enough to smash
the political domination of the bourgeoisie on its own initiative?
The bourgeoisie was able to defeat feudalism only thanks to its
wealth, the proletariat w ill defeat the bourgeoisie for the very
reason that its lotpauperism is becoming the lot of an
ever-increasing portion of modern society.
But in the history of its development the bourgeoisie received
from its wealth another and indeed extremely productive ser
vice, as its economists would say. It received knowledge and be
came the most advanced and educated section of society at that
time. Can the proletariat acquire that knowledge, can it be at
the same time the poorest and the most advanced of all classes in
society? W ithout this condition political domination is out of the
question for the proletariat, for without knowledge there is no
strength.
We have already said that the bourgeoisie itself began the
j olitical education of the proletariat. It took care of lhe education
<f the proletariat as much as Ibis was necessary for the struggle
against its own enemies. It shattered the proletariat's religious be
liefs whenever Ib is was required to weaken the political significance
of the clergy; it broadened the proletariats legal outlook wherever
it needed to oppose natural law to the written law of the estatebased state. Now the economic question is 011 the agenda and
political economy now plays as a very clever German* said
* INote to the 1905 edition.) i.e.,
Rodbertus.
6*
84
G. PLEKHANOV
just as important a role as natural law played in the eighteenth

century. W ill the bourgeoisie agree to be the working classs leader
in the investigation of the relations between labour and capital,
that question of questions of the whole of social economy? It is
reluctant to take upon itself even that role, advantageous as it is
to itself, because merely to raise that question means to threaten
the bourgeoisies domination. But can it fulfil that role, if only
in the way it once did in regard to religion and law? No, it can
not. Blinded by their class interests, its representatives in sci
ence lost long ago all ability to investigate social questions objec
tively, scientifically. Therein lies the whole secret of the present
decay of bourgeois economics. Ricardo was the last economist
who, though still a bourgeois in heart and soul, was intelligent
enough to understand the diametrical opposition of interests be
tween labour and capital. Sismondiwas the last bourgeois econo
mist who had enough feeling to deplore that antagonism sincere
ly. After them, the general theoretical studies of bourgeois econ
omists in the main lost all scientific significance. To convince
oneself of this it is sufficient to recall the history of political
economy since Ricardo and to look through the works of Bastiat,
Carey. Leroy-Beaulieu or the modern Katheder Sozialisten . 47
From peaceful and objective thinkers the bourgeois economists
have become m ilitan t guardians and watchdogs of capital who
devote all their efforts to reconstructing the very edifice of science
for the purpose of war. But in spite of these warlike exertions,
they continually retreat anti leave in their enemies hands the
scientific territory over which they once had uncontrolled sway.
Nowadays people who display no demagogic strivings whatever
try to assure us that the workers are better able than any Smith
or Faucher to master the most abstract concepts" in the science
of economics. Such was the opinion, for instance, of a man who
has the highest authority among German economists but who,
for his part, had the deepest scorn for them. We look upon the
workers as children, this man added, whereas they are already
head and shoulders above us.*
But is there no exaggeration in what he says? Can the working
class understand abstract questions of social economics and
socialism at least as well as, if not better than, people who have
spent years and years on their education?
W hat are the principles of modern scientific socialism
founded on? Are they the concoctions of some leisurely benefactor
of hum anity, or are they the summing up of those very phenomena
which we all come up against, one way or another, in our daily
life, the explanation of the very laws which determine our partic
* [Note to the 1905 edition.] I again mean Rodbertus.
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
85
ipation in the production, the exchange, or simply the distribu

tion of products? Whoever answers this question w ill agree that
the working class has many chances of understanding correctly
tho most abstract laws of social economics and of mastering
the most ubslract principles of scientific socialism. The difficulty
in understanding the laws of some particular science is caused by
incomplete knowledge of the data underlying those laws. Wherev
er it is only a question of everyday phenomena in which tin?
scientific law only generalises facts that everybody knows, people
in the practical field not only understand perfectly the theoreti
cal principles, they can sometimes even teach the theoreticians
themselves. Ask Lhe farmer about the influence that the distance
to the market has on the price of his products or the effect the
fertility of the soil has on the size of the land rent. Ask the manu
facturer how the expansion of the market influences the cheapening
of production. Or ask the worker where lhe employer gets his
profits from.... You w ill see that all these people know Ricardo,
although they have never even seen the cover of his works. Yet
these questions are reputed to be very intricate and abstract",
whole seas of ink have been used upon them and such a tremendous
number of volumes have been written about them that they are
enough to terrify you when you begin to study economics. The
same in each and every part of social economics. Take the theory of
exchange value. You can explain to the worker in a couple of
words what it is determined by and how but many of Messrs. the
bourgeois economists are still unw illing or unable to understand
this perfectly simple theory, and in their disputes about it they fall
into gross errors of logic for which no teacher of arithmetic
would hesitate to give an elementary school pupil a bad mark.
Thai is why we think that the writer we quoted was correct and
that the only understanding audience today on urgent social
problems is one of proletarians or of people who have adopted the
proletarian standpoint. Once the fundamental principles of social
economics are mastered, the understanding of scientific socialism
no longer presents any difficulty: here too the worker w ill only
follow the directions of his practical experience. This aspect of the
question was magnificently explained by Marx. By heralding
the dissolution of the hitherto existing world order," we read in
A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Law, the
proletariat merely proclaims the secret of its own existence, for
it is the factual dissolution of that world order. By demanding
the negation of private property, the proletariat merely raises to
the rank of a principle of society what society has raised to the
rank of its principle, what is already embodied in it as the nega
tive result of society without its own participation .' * 48
* See Deutsck-Franzosische Jahrbucher, I. und 2. Lieferung, S. 81-85.
86
G. P LEK HA N O V
So we see that the proletariat needs no material wealth to

attain to an understanding of the conditions of its emancipation.
Its pauperism, determined not by the poverty or the barbarism of
society, but by defects in the social organisation this pauperism,
far from m aking the understanding of these conditions more
difficult, makes it easier.
The laws governing the distribution of products in capitalist
society are extremely unfavourable to the working class. B ut the
organisation of production and the form of exchange character
istic of capitalism provide for the first time both the objective
and the subjective possibility for the emancipation of the working
people. Capitalism broadens the workers outlook and removes
all the prejudices he inherited from the old society; it impels him
to fight and at the same time ensures his victory by increasing
his numbers and putting at his disposal the economic possibility
of organising the kingdom of labour. Technical progress in
creases m ans power over nature and raises labour productivity to
such a degree that the necessity of labour cannot become a hin
drance, but, on the contrary, w ill be an indispensable condition
for the all-round development of the members of socialist society.
At. the same time, the socialisation of production characteristic of
capitalism paves the way for the conversion of its instruments and
products into common property. The joint-stock company, the
highest form of organisation for industrial enterprises at the
present time, excludes the capitalists from any active role in
the economic life of society and turns them into drones whose
disappearance cannot cause the slightest disorganisation in the
course of that life. If the energetic race of major-domos once
succeeded without difficulty in deposing a royal dynasty which
had grown indolent, the conservative Rodbertus says, why
should a living and energetic organisation of workers (the staff of
companies is composed of qualified workers), why should not
such an organisation in lim e remove owners who have become
mere rentiers?... And yet capital cannot turn off this road! Having
outlived its period of prosperity, capital is becoming its own
grave-digger!
W by, we ask, in our turn, should not the same organisation
of workers which w ill be in a position to remove owners who have
become mere rentiers" why should not such an organisation be
in a position to seize state power and thus achieve political domi
nation? For the former presumes the latter: only such an organi
sation can "remove the owners as can overcome their political
resistance.
But that is not all: there are other social phenomena which
also increase the probability of the proletariat's political victory.
...Entire sections of the ruling classes are, by the advance of
87
industry, precipitated into the proletariat, or are at least threat

ened in their conditions of existence. These also supply the
proletariat with fresh elements of enlightenment and progress.
Finally, in times when the class struggle nears the decisive

hour, the process of dissolution going on w ithin the ruling class,
in fact, w ithin tho whole range of old society, assumes such a vio
lent, glaring character, that a small section of the ruling class
cuts itself adrift, and joins the revolutionary class, the class that
holds the future in its hands. Just as, therefore, at an earlier
period, a section of the nobility went over to the bourgeoisie, so
now a portion of the bourgeoisie goes over to the proletariat,
and in particular, a portion of the bourgeois ideologists, who
have raised themselves to the level of comprehending theoreti
cally the historical movement as a whole . 49
There is a very remarkable legend among the Negroes of North
Guinea. One day, it says, God summoned the two sons of the first
human couple. One of them was white, the other dark-skinned.
Placing before them a heap of gold and a book, God ordered the
dark-skinned brother, as being the elder, to choose one of the
two. He chose the gold, so the younger brother received the book.
An unknown force immediately transported the younger one with
the hook to a cold, distant country. But. thanks to his book he
became learned, terrifying and strong. As for the elder brother,
he remained in his native country and lived long enough to see
how superior science is to wealth.
The bourgeoisie once had both knowledge and wealth. Unlike
the dark-skinned brother in the Negro legend, it obtained posses
sion of both gold and book, because history, the god of human
societies, does not recognise the right of classes which are under
age, and commits them to the guardianship of their elder broth
ers. Hut the time came when the working class, slighted by histo
ry, grew out of childhood, and tho bourgeoisie had to share w ith it.
The bourgeoisie kept the gold, while the younger brother received
the book , thanks to which, despite the darkness and cold of his
cellars, he has now become strong and terrifying. Little by lit
tle, scientific socialism is ousting the bourgeois theories from the
pages of this magic book, and soon the proletariat w ill read in
the book how they can gain material sufficiency. Then they w ill
throw off the shameful yoke of capitalism and show the bour
geoisie how superior science is to wealth .
HI
In the first chapter we endeavoured to explain historically the

origin of the conviction that socialism is incompatible w ith any
politics. We saw that this conviction was based on Proudhon's
88
G. PLEK HA N O V
and Bakunins teaching on the state, on the one hand, and on

a certain inconsistency in our Social-Democrats of the seventies,
ori the other. Moreover, it was supported by the general tone of
the background against which both the tendencies mentioned above
stood out. That background consisted, as we said quoting
Engels, in a mish-mash of manifold theories of the founders of
different socialist sects. The utopian socialists, we know, had an
entirely negative attitude to the political movements of the
working class, seeing in them nothing but blind unbelief in the
new Gospel . 59 This negative view of politics came to us with
the teachings of the Utopians. Long before revolutionary movement
of any strength began in Russia, our socialists, like the true
socialists in Germany at the end of the forties (see the Manifesto
of the Communist Party, p. 32), were ready to hurl the tradition
al anathemas against liberalism, against representative govern
ment., against bourgeois competition, bourgeois freedom of the
press, bourgeois legislation, bourgeois liberty and equality,
forgetting entirely that all these attacks presupposed the exis
tence of modern bourgeois society, with its corresponding economic
conditions of existence, and the political constitution adapted
thereto, i.e., the very conditions that it should still have been
a question of assuring in our country . * 51
As a result of all these influences there arose such a firm convic
tion of the inexpediency of any political struggle except the
revolutionary struggle in the narrow and vulgar sense of the word,
that we began to regard w ith prejudice the socialist parties in
Western Europe which saw electoral campaigns, for instance, as
a powerful means of educating and organising the working masses.
A ll the political and economic gains those campaigns brought
seemed to us unpardonable opportunism, a ruinous deal with the
demon of the bourgeois state, tantamount to renouncing bliss in
future socialist life. We ourselves did not even notice that our
theories were involving us in a vicious circle of insoluble contra
dictions. We regarded the village commune as the point of depar
ture of Russias social and economic development and, at the
same time, renouncing political struggle, we voluntarily deprived
ourselves of all possibility of safeguarding that commune against
the present destructive influences by state interference. We were
thus forced to remain indifferent spectators of a process which was
destroying the very foundation on which we wished to erect the
edifice of the future.
We saw, however, that the logic of events had led the Russian
movement on to another road and forced the Russian revolution
*
What is said here does not apply, however, to the group which pub
lished Narodnoye Dyelo in Geneva, a group which repeatedly affirmed its
negative attitude to the "theory of political non-interference.65
81)
aries, as represented by the Narodnaya Volya party, to fight for

political influence and even dominance as one of the most power
ful factors of economic revolution. We also saw that having
entered upon that road our movement was growing to such an
extent that the social and political theories of different varieties
of Proudhonism were too narrow and cramping for it. The course
of events peculiar to Russian social life clashed with the course
of the ideas dominating among our revolutionaries arid thus pro
voked a new trend of thought.
This trend, wo said further, w ill not rid itself of its characteris
tic contradictions u n til it merges with the incomparably deeper
and wider current of modern socialism. The Russian revolution
aries must adopt the standpoint of Western Social-Democracy and
break with rebel theories just as a few years ago they renounced
rebel practice, introducing a now, political element into their
programme. This will not, be difficult for them to do if they endeav
our to adopt the correct view of the political side of Marxs teach
ing and are w illing to reconsider the methods and immediate aims
of their struggle by applying this new criterion to them.
We saw as early as in the second chapter what false conclusions
were prompted by the philosophical and historical premises of
modern socialism. Narodnaya Volya itself apparently did not
notice the erroneousness of those conclusions and was inclined
even to defend Duhrings sociological standpoint on the predomi
nant influence of the political and legal element in the social
structure over the economic , as P. L. Lavrov put it in describing
the most recent tendencies in the Russian revolutionary move
ment.* And it is only by this inclination that we can explain the
polemic contained in the home review of Narodnaya Volya No. 6
against some kind of immediate interpreters of Marxs historical
theory , who, according to the author, based their views m ainly
on Hegels famous triad , not having any other inductive materi
al for their conclusions and explaining Hegels Jaw in the sense
that evil, merely in its extreme development, will lead lo good".**
It is sufficient lo acquaint oneself with the programme of the
German Social-Democrats or the French collectivists to see how
*
See the article "View of the Past and the Present of Russian Socialism.
Kalendar NarodnoL Voli, 1HK3, p. 10'J.
** [Note to the 1905 edition.) Subsequently, our legal" critics, N. Mikhai
lovsky and Bros., repeated this nonsense in all keys. It must be noted in
general thal in their disputes with us these gentlemen could think of nothing
new in comparison with what was written against us in illegal literatim.1.
Let anybody who wants to convince himself of this read Tikhomirovs article
What Can We Expect from the Revolution? in the second issue of Vestnik
Sarodnol Voli and compare it with the arguments Reltov had to refute much
later in his book.53 Illegal thought long ago outstripped "legal thought
in our country.
90
G. P LEK HA N O V
Marxs historical theory is understood by his West European

followers and, if you like, by his immediate interpreters. We,
for our part, can assure our Russian comrades that these inter
preters understand Hegels law by no means in the sense that
evil, merely in its extreme development, w ill lead to good,
and, besides, that they use it as inductive material only when
they study the history of German philosophy, in which this law
has a very prominent place and which, in any case, it cannot bo
left out of, just as. according to the popular saying, you cannot
leave words out of a song. The passage we quoted is an almost
word-for-word repetition of the reproach addressed by Diihring to
Marx that in his historical scheme the Hegelian negation of nega
tion plays, for want of better and clearer means, the role of a m id
wife w ith whose help the future emerges from the womb of the
present.* But this trick has already received the punishment it
deserved from Engels, who showed the utter scientific worthless
ness of the former Berlin Dozent's works. W hy, then, repeat other
peoples errors and adopt, on such shifting grounds, a negative
attitude towards the greatest and most revolutionary social theory
of the nineteenth century? For without revolutionary theory there
is no revolutionary movement in the true sense of the word. Any
class which strives for its emancipation, any political party which
aims at dominance, is revolutionary only insofar as it represents
the most progressive social trends and consequently is a vehicle
of the most progressive ideas of its time. An idea which is inher
ently revolutionary is a kind of dynamite which no other explo
sive in the world can replace. And as Jong as our movement is un
der the banner of backward or erroneous theories it w ill have
revolutionary significance only by some, but by 110 means all
of its aspects. A t the same time, without its members knowing
it, it w ill bear in itself the germs of reaction which w ill deprive
it even of that little significance in the more or less near future,
because, as Heine said,
New time needs a new garment
For the new job it's got to do.
And indeed lhat really new time w ill come at
last forour
country too.
Incorrect understanding of some principles of modern socialism
is not, however, the m ain obstacle preventing our revolutionary
movement from taking the road paved by the working class in the
West. A closer acquaintance w ith the literature of Marxism
w ill show our socialists what a powerful weapon they have deprived
*
See Kritische Geschichte der Natlonaloekonomie und des Sozialismus,
dritte Auflage, S. 498.
91
themselves of by refusing to understand and master the theory

of the great teacher of the workers of a ll countries. They w ill
then see that our revolutionary movement, far from losing any
thing, w ill gain a lot if the Russian Narodniks and the Russian
Narodnaya Volya at last become Russian Marxists and a new,
higher standpoint reconciles a ll the groups existing among us,
which are all right each in its own way, because despite their one
sidedness each of them expresses a definite v ital need of Russian
social life.
Another obstacle prevents our movement from developing in
the direction just, indicated. I t consists in our lacking sense of
proportion in politics. Since the very beginning of our movement
this has prevented our revolutionaries from bringing their im m e
diate tasks into line w ith their strength and it is due to nothing
else than lack of political experience on the part of Russian public
figures. Whether we went among the people to disseminate social
ist, publications, settled in the villages to organise the protesting
elements of our peasantry or joined directly in the fight against
the representatives of absolutism, we repeated one and the same
mistake everywhere. We always overestimated our strength and
never fully took account of the resistance that would be offered by
the social environment, we hastened to raise a method of action
temporarily favoured by circumstances into a universal principle
precluding all other ways and means. As a result, a ll our pro
grammes were in a state of absolutely unstable equilibrium which
could be upset by the most insignificant change in the surrounding
atmosphere. We changed those programmes almost every couple
of years and could not keep to anything lasting because we always
kept to something narrow and one-sided. Just as, according to
Belinskys words, Russian society had experience of all literary
trends even before it had any literature, so the Russian socialist
movement managed to try out. all possible shades of West Euro
pean socialism despite the fact that it had not yet become a
movement of our working class.
The struggle against absolutism that Narodnaya Volya has
undertaken w ill undoubtedly help greatly to elim inate the one
sidedness of the study groups by bringing our revolutionaries out
on to a broader path and compelling them to strive to set up a real
party. But in order to put a stop to the continual changing of
programmes, to rid themselves of these habits of political nomads
and to acquire intellectual stability at last, the Russian revolu
tionaries must complete the criticism which began with the rise
of conscious political trends among them. They must adopt a crit
ical attitude to the very programme which has made necessary
the criticism of a ll previous programmes and theories. The Narodnava Volya party is the child of a time of transition. Its pro
92
G. PLEK HA NO V
gramme is the last produced in the conditions which made our

one-sidedness inevitable and therefore legitimate. Although it
broadens tlie political horizon of the Russian socialists, this
programme in itself is not yet free from one-sidedness. The lack of
sense of proportion in politics, of the ability to line up the immedi
ate aims of tho party w ith its actual or potential strength is also
still conspicuous in it. The Narodnaya Volya party reminds one of
a man who is going along a real road but has no idea of distances
and therefore feels sure that he can leave miles and leagues be
h in d twenty thousand leagues, ere night, covered in a single
flight . 54 Practice w ill, of course, shatter his illusion, but that
shattering may cost him a great deal. It would be better for him
lo ask himself whether seven-league strides do not belong to the
realm of fantasy.
By seven-league strides wo mean the element of fantasy whose
existence in the programme referred to we have already pointed
out and which was manifested in the second issue of Narodnaya.
Volya by assurances concerning the social-revolutionary (we do not
say socialist) m ajority in the future Russian Constituent Assem
b ly , 55 and in No. 8-9 by considerations oti the seizure of power by
the provisional revolutionary government . 58 We are profoundly
convinced that this element of fantasy is highly dangerous for the
Narodnaya Volya party itself. Dangerous to it as a socialist par
ty because it diverts attention of the working class from the imme
diate tasks in Russia; dangerous to it as a party which has assumed
the in itiativ e of our emancipation movement because it w ill alien
ate from the party great resources and forces which, in other
circumstances, would accrue to it. out of the so-called society. Let.
us explain this in greater detail.
To whom does Narodnaya Volya appeal, to whom can it and
should it appeal in fighting absolutism? The enlistment in the
organisat ion Narodnaya V olyaof individuals from the peasant
ry capable of joining it, we read in Kalendar Narodnoi Voli,*
has naturally always been acknowledged as very desirable . . . . 57
But as for a mass peasant organisation at present, that was consid
ered completely fantastic when our programme was drawn up, and.
if we are not mistaken, subsequent practice was unable to change
the opinion of our socialists on this subject. Perhaps the Narod
naya Volya party intends to rely on the more progressive section
of our labouring population, i.e., on the town workers? It does
actually attach great importance to propaganda and organisation
among them, it considers that the urban working population must
bo the object of the partys serious attention . But the very reason
on which it bases this necessity shows that in the partys concep* Preparatory Work of the Party , p. 129, note. [Plekhanovs italics.]
93
lion tho town workers must be only one of the elements in our
revolutionary movement. They are of particular significance for
the revolution, both by their position and by thoir relatively great
er m aturity", tlu> saino document explains; the success of the
first attack dupands entirely on tho conduct of the workers and the
troops. So the impending revolution w ill not be a working-class
revolution in the full sense* of tho term, but the workers must take
part in it because they are of particular significance for it''.
Which other elements, then, w ill be included in this movement?
Wo have already seen that one of these elements w ill be lhe
troops"; but in the army in present conditions propaganda among
thr? men is so difficult that great hope can hardly be placed upon
it. Action on the officer corps is far more convenient: being
more educated and having greater liberty they are more susceptible
to influence! That is quite correct , of course, but we will not stop
at that for the moment, we w ill go further. Besides the workers
and the officer corps", the Narodnaya Volya party has in m ind the
liberals and Europa , in relation to which the policy of the
parly must strive to ensure the sympathy of tho peoples for the
Russian revolution, to rouse sympathy for lh 3 revolution among
the European public. To attain this aim the party must make
known to Europe all the disastrous significance of Russian abso
lutism for European civilisation itself, and also the partys true
aims and the significance of our revolutionary movement as the
expression of the protest of the whole nation. As far as the lib
erals" are concerned, wo must point out. without] concealing
our radicalism, that given the present setting of our party tasks,
our interests and theirs compel 11s to act jo in tly against the
government".
Thus we see that the Narodnaya Volya party relies not only, nor
even m ainly, on the working and peasant classes. It also has in
mind society and lhe officer corps, which, in substance, is the
very flesh and bone of that, society. It wants to convince the lib
eral part of that society that given the present setting of our
party tasks the interests of Russian liberalism coincide w ith
those of the Russian social-revolutionary party. W hat, then, does
it do to impress that conviction upon the Russian liberals? First
of all it. publishes the programme of the Executive Committee 58
which says that the people's w ill would be sufficiently well ex
pressed and implemented by a Constituent Assembly freely elected
by universalsuffrage and n>c?iving instructions from the electors .
In its famous Letter to Alexander I I I " the Executive Committee
also demanded the convocation of representatives of 1 he whole
Russian paople to reconsider the existing forms of statehood and
public life and to refashion them according to the desires of the
people . 59 That programme does indeed coincide with the
94
G. P LEK HA N O V
interests of the Russian liberals, and in order to carry it out they

would probably be reconciled even to universal suffrage, which
tho Executive Committee cannot fail to demand. In a ll this, the
programme of the said Committee displays far greater maturity
than all those which preceded it. B u t, not to mention such a huge
blunder as to demand freedom of assembly, of speech, of the press
and of electoral programmes only as a temporary measure",*6ft
let us recall other statements of the Narodnaya Volya party.
The party organ hastened to warn its readers that the m ajority
of the deputies to the Constituent Assembly would be supportersof
radical economic revolution. We have already said above that
this assurance was no more than a fiction invented to conciliate
incompatible elements in the Narodnaya Volya programme. Let
us now consider the printed expression of that assurance from the
standpoint of tactics. The question is: does an economic revolution
suit the interests of Russian liberalism? Does our liberal society
sympathise w ith the agrarian revolution which Narodnaya Volya
says the peasant deputies w ill aim at? West European history
tells us most convincingly that whenever the red spectre took at
a ll threatening forms the liberals were ready to seek protection
in the embraces of the most unceremonious m ilita ry dictatorship.
D id the terrorist organ thin k that our Russian liberals would be
an exception to this general rule? If so, on what did it base its
conviction? D id it also think that contemporary public opinion
in Europe was so imbued w ith socialist ideas that it would
sympathise w ith the convocation of a social-revolutionary Con
stituent Assembly? Or did it think that although the European
bourgeoisie trembled at the red spectre in their own countries they
would cheer its appearance in Russia? It goes without saying that
it thought nothing of the sort and forgot nothing of the sort. But
why, in that case, make such a risky statement? Or was the Narod
naya Volya party organ so convinced of the inevitable realisation
of its prophecy that it considered it necessary to rouse the members
of the organisation to take steps corresponding to the importance
of the anticipated event? Bearing in m ind Ihe fact that the same
organ declared work among Ihe people useless, we think the si a le
nient was intended rather lo calm than to rouse: a social-revo
lutionary m ajority in the Constituent Assembly was expected
despite the fact that Ihe work referred to now recalls the Danai'des
filling bottomless barrels.
In itself the statement could have been regarded as unim portant,
especially as Narodnaya Volya itself had apparently given up its
exaggeratedly optim istic hopes about the future composition of
the Russian Constituent. We think so, because the leading article
in No. 8-9 speaks of the economic revolution which, in the absence
* See Letter to Alexander I IP , Kalendar Narodnoi Voli , p. 14.
SOCIALISM AND TIIH POLIT IC AL STRUGGLE
95-
<>f social-revolutionary initiative among the people themselves,

must be accomplished by the provisional revolutionary govern
ment" before the convocation of the Constituent Assembly. The
author of the article quite rightly sees such a revolution as the
only guarantee that the Zemsky Sobor 61 which is convoked w ill
bo attended by true representatives of the people. Thus, Narod
naya Volya's former illusion has been shattered completely. B ut,
unfortunately, it has only disappeared to give place to a new one,
still more harm ful for tho cause of the Narodnaya Volya party.
The element of fantasy in the programme has not been removed
but has only assumed a new form, being now called that very
seizure of power by the provisional revolutionary government,r
which is supposed to give the party the possibility to carry out the
economic revolution referred to. It is obvious that the new
setting of the party tasks" can on no account impress upon either
Russian liberalism or bourgeois Europe the idea that they havecommon interests with the Russian revolutionary movement.
However downtrodden and crushed Russian society may be it is
by no means deprived of the instinct of self-preservation and in nocase w ill it voluntarily meet the red spectre half-way; to point
out to it such a form ulation of the party tasks means to deprive
oneself of its support and to rely only 011 one's own strength. But
is that strength groat enough to warrant the risk of alienating
such an ally? Can our revolutionaries really seize power and retain
it, if only for a short tim e, or is all talk of this nothing else than
cutting the skin of a bear that has not been killed and which, by
force of circumstances, is nol even going to be killed? That is
a question which has recently become an urgent one for revolu
tionary Russia....
Let us hasten to make a reservation. The previous pages must
already have convinced the reader that we do not belong to lhe
opponents in principle of such an act as the seizure of power by
a revolutionary party. In our opinion that is the last, and what is
more, the absolutely inevitable conclusion to be drawn from the
political struggle which every class striving for emancipation
must undertake at a definite stage in social development. H aving
gained political dom ination, a revolutionary class w ill retain
that, dom ination and be relatively secure against the blows of
reaction only when it uses against reaction the m ighty weapon of
state power. Den Teufel lialte, wer ihn ha lt! says Faust.
But there is 110 more difference between heaven and earth than
between the dictatorship of a class and that of a group of revolu
tionary r a z n o c h in t s iThis applies in particular to the dictator
ship of tho working class, whose present task is not only to over
throw tho political domination of the unproductive classes in
society, but also to do away w ith the anarchy now existing in
G. P LEKHANOV
produclioii and consciously to organise all functions of social and

economic life. The mere understanding of 1 his task calls for an
advanced working class with political experience and education,
a working class free from bourgeois prejudices and able to discuss
its situation by itself. In addition to this, its solution presupposes
that socialist ideas are spread among the proletariat and that the
proletariat is conscious of its own strength and confident in
victory. I3uI such a proletariat w ill not allow even the sincerest of
its well-wishers lo seize power. It w ill not allow it for tho simple
reason that it has been to the school of political education with
the firm intention of finishing it at some time and coming forward
as an independent figure in the arena of historical life, instead
of passing eternally from one guardianship to another; it w ill not
allow it because such a guardianship would be unnecessary, as the
proletariat could then solve the problem of the socialist revolution
itself; and finally it w ill not allow it because such a guardianship
would be harm ful, for the conscious participation of the producers
in organising production cannot be replaced by any conspiratorial
sk ill, any daring or self-sacrifice on the part of the conspirators.
The mere thought that the social problem can be solved in prac
tice by anybody but the workers themselves shows complete mis
understanding of this problem, irrespective of whether the idea
is held by an Iron Chancellor or a revolutionary organisation.
Once the proletariat has understood the conditions of its eman
cipation and is mature to emancipate itself, it w ill take state
power in its own hands in order to finish off its enemies and
build up social life, not, of course, on the basis of arc-arcliy,
which would bring new disasters, but of pan-archy, which w ill
give all adult members of society the possibility to take part in
the discussion and settlement of social matters. And u n til the
working class is sufficiently developed to be able to fulfil its great
historical task, the duty of its supporters is to accelerate the
process of its development, to remove the obstacles preventing its
strength and its consciousness from growing, and not to invent
social experiments and vivisection, the outcome of which is
always more than doubtful.
That is how we understand the seizure of power in the social
ist revolution. A pplying this point of view to Russian reality we
must admit thal we by no means believe in the early possibility
of a socialist government in Russia.
Narodnaya Volya considers the contemporary relation of polit
ical and economic factors on Russian soil particularly advanta
geous to the socialists . 63 We agree that it is more advantageous
for them in Russia than in Ind ia, Persia or Egypt, but it cannot
be compared, of course, w ith the social relations in Western
Europe. And if Narodnaya Volya arrives at its convictions by
!)7
comparing our system not w ith tho Egyptian or the Persian, but
with the French or the English system, then it has made a very
big mistake. Tho contemporary relation of social factors on
Russian soil is the cause of the ignorance and indifference of the
popular masses; when were such qualities advantageous for their
emancipation? Narodnaya Volya apparently presumes that this
indifference has already begun to disappear because among the
people there is growing hatred of the privileged ruling estates
and persistent striving for a radical change in economic rela
tions. But what comes of that striving? Hatred of the privileged
estates proves nothing at. all; it is often not accompanied by
a single ray of political consciousness. Furthermore, at the present
time wo must clearly distinguish between estate consciousness and
class consciousness, for the old division into estates no longer
corresponds to the. economic relations in Russia and is preparing
to give place to formal equality of citizens in a legal stale . If
Narodnaya Volya considers the contemporary outlook of our
peasantry from the standpoint of tho development of their class
and political consciousness, it w ill hardly persist in saying that
the relation between our social factors is advantageous to the
cause of the social revolution. For it certainly cannot consider
advantageous to that cause the rumours, for instance, circu
lating among the peasantry about their own struggle against
I lie government. No matter how strongly hatred of the ruling
classes 64 is shown in these rumours, the fact lhat the revolution
ary movement itself is attributed by the peasants to scheming by
the serfdom-minded n o bility and the officials is evidence that the
provisional revolutionary government w ill be in great danger
when the people begins w inning economic equality from those
who have been exploiting and oppressing it for centuries. Then
the relation between the factors now interesting us w ill perhaps
display rather disadvantageous qualities for the temporarily
victorious conspirators. And then, what is meant by w inning
economic equality?
Is it enough for that to expropriate the big landowners, capital
ists and businessmen? Does it not require production itself to be
organised in a definite manner? If so, are Russias present econom
ic relations favourable to such organisation? In other words,
does the economic factor offer us much chance of success? We do
not think so, and for the following reason. Any organisation
presupposes in what is to be organised certain qualities determined
by the purpose and character of the organisation. The socialist
organisation of production implies such a character of the econom
ic relations as w ill make that organisation the logical conclusion
nf the entire previous development of the country and is there
fore distinguished by an extremely significant definiteness. In
7-01329
98
G. P LEK HA N O V
other words, socialist organisation, like any other, requires the

appropriate basis. But that basis does not exist in Russia. The
old foundations of national life are too narrow,
heteroge
neous and one-sided, and moreover loo shaky, and new ones are
as yet only being formed. The objective social conditions of
production necessary for socialist organisation have not yet
matured, and that is why the producers themselves have not yet
either the striving or the ability for such organisation: our peasant
ry can yet neither understand nor fulfil this task. Therefore, the
provisional government w ill have not to sanction, but to
carry out the economic revolution, granted thal it is not swept
away by a wave of the popular movement, granted that the pro
ducers are obedient enough.
You cannot create by decrees conditions which are alien to
the very character of the existing economic relations. The provi
sional government w ill have to reconcile itself lo what exists,
to take as the basis of its reforming activity what it is given by
present Russian reality. And 011 that narrow and shaky foundation
the edifice of socialist organisation w ill be b u ilt by a government
which w ill include: first, town workers, as yet little prepared for
such a difficult task; second, representatives of our revolutionary
youth, who have always kept aloof from practical life; third, the
officer corps , whose knowledge of economics is certainly subject
lo doubt. We do not want lo make the quite probable supposition
that, besides all these elements, liberals w ill also find their way
into the provisional government, and they w ill not sympathise
w ith, but hinder the social-revolutionary setting of the parly
tasks. We suggest that the reader merely weigh up the circum
stances we have just enumerated and then ask himself: has an
economic revolution which begins in such circumstances much
chance of success? Is it true thal the present relation of political
and economic factors on Russian soil is favourable to the cause
of the socialist revolution? Is not the confidence thal this rela
tion is advantageous one of the fictions borrowed from ihe old an
archist and rebel outlook and carried to impossible extremes in
the programme of the new political party? Yel it is Ibis fiction that
determines the most immediate tasks of the parly and under
lies the desire for the immediate seizure of power , a striving
that terrifies our society and makes the entire activity of our
revolnt ionaries one-sided!
Perhaps it w ill be objected that Narodnaya Volya does not even
think of undertaking the socialist organisation of society immedi
ately after seizing power, that the economic revolution it plans
is intended only to educate the people for a future socialist revo
lution. Let us see whether Ibis supposition is possible, and if so,
what conclusions follow from it.
SOCIALISM AND THE POLITICAL STRU GGLE
09
Tlu> loading article of No. 841 of Narodnaya Volya speaks of lhe

economic equality which w ill be won" by ttie people itself, or,
if tho people lacks initiative, created by the provisional govern
ment. We have already said that so-called economic equality is
possible only with a socialist organisation of production. Hut let
us assume that Narodnaya Volya considers it possible under other
circumstances loo, that economic equality, in its opinion, w ill be
sufficiently guaranteed by the transfer of lhe land and the instru
ments of production to the ownership of the working people.
Such an opinion would be nothing but a return to the old Narodnik
ideals of Zemlya i Volya, and from the economic standpoint it
would show the same weaknesses that characterised those ideals.
The mutual relations of individual village communes, the con
version of the product of the commune members labour into
commodities and the capitalist accumulation connected w ith it
would threaten to make that equality extremely precarious!
W ith the independence of the rnir as an economic and adm ini
strative u n it , with broad territorial self-government guaranteed
by tho electivity of all offices , and the ownership of the land
by the people which the Executive Committee's programme de
mands, the central government would not be able to take steps
to consolidate that equality, even if we assume that it would
devise measures to abrogate nol only the written laws of the
Russian Empire, but the laws of commodity production itself.
And anyhow, it would be reluctant 1 o take such measures, for it
would consist of representatives of the economically and p o liti
cally emancipated people whose ideals would be expressed, at
the best, by the words Land and Freedom and would leave no
room for any organisation of national (let alone international)
production.
**
Let us suppose that in view of this danger Narodnaya V olyas
provisional government w ill not hand over the power it has
seized to the representatives of the people but w ill become a per
manent government. Then it w ill be faced w ith the following
alternative: either it w ill have to remain an indifferent spectator
of the slow decay of the economic equality it has established, or
it will be obliged to organise national production. It w ill have to
fulfil this difficult task either in the spirit of modern socialism, in
which it w ill be hindered by its own unpracticality as well as by
the present stage of development of national labour and the
workers own habits; or it w ill have to seek salvation in the ideals
of patriarchal and authoritarian communism , only m odifying
those ideals so that national production is managed not by the
Peruvian sons of the sun and their officials but by a socialist
caste. But even now the Russian people is loo far developed for
anybody to flatter himself w ith the hope that such experiments
7*
100
G. P LEK HA NO V
on it could be successful. Moreover, there is no doubt that under

such a guardianship the people, far from being educated for
socialism, would oven lose all capacity for further progress or
would retain that capacity only thanks to the appearance of the
very economic inequality which it would be the revolutionary
governments immediate aim to abolish. Not to mention the
influence of international relations or the im possibility of Peruvi
an communism even in Eastern Europe in the nineteenth or the
twentieth century.
Anyhow, why speak so much of the results of the seizure of pow
er by our revolutionaries? Is that seizure itself probable or even
possible? In our opinion the probability is very sm all, so small
that tho seizure of power may be considered as absolutely impos
sible. Our thinking proletariat has already done much for the
emancipation of its motherland. It has shaken absolutism, aroused
political interest among society, sown the seed of socialist pro
paganda among our working class. It is intermediary between the
higher classes of society and the lower, having the education of
the former and the democratic instincts of the latter. This posi
tion has eased for it the diversified work of propaganda and
agitation. But this same position gives it very little hope of
success in a conspiracy to seize power. For such a conspiracy talent,
energy and education are not enough: the conspirators need con
nections, wealth and an influential position in society. And that is
what our revolutionary intelligentsia lacks. It can make good
these deficiencies only by allying itself w ith other dissatisfied
elements of Russian society. Let us suppose that its plans actual
ly meet w ith the sympathy of those elements, that rich landown
ers, capitalists, officials, staff and senior officers join in the
conspiracy. There w ill then bo more probability of the conspiracy
being a success, although that probability w ill still be very
sm alljust remember the outcome of most of the famous conspir
acies in history. But the main danger to the socialist conspiracy
w ill come not from the existing government, but from Ihe mem
bers of (he conspiracy itself. The influential and high-placed
personages who have joined it may be sincere socialists only by
a fortunate coincidence". But as regards Ih e m ajority of them,
there can be no guarantee that they w ill not wish to use the
power they have seized for purposes having nothing in common with
the interests of the working class. And once the conspirators devi
ate from Ihe socialist aim of the conspiracy it can be considered not
only useless but even harmful for the social development of the
country: for hatred of absolutism does not warrant sympathy
for the successes of the most modern Seyans , as Stepnyak puls it
in his well-known book , 05 who would wish lo use Ihe conspiracy in
their own interests. Thus, the more sympathy a conspiracy of the
SOCIALISM AND T1IE POLITICAL STRUGGLE
101
socialist intelligentsia to seize power in lhe immediate future

meets among influential spheres, i.e., lhe greater the probability
of its outward success, the more open to doubt its results w ill be;
contrariwise, the more such a conspiracy is confined to our so
cialist intelligentsia , i.e., the less the probability of its success,
the less doubt there w ill be about its results, as far as lhe con
spirators intentions are concerned. Everything leads us lo think
that at present a Russian socialist conspiracy would be threat
ened w ith a failure of the second kind rather than of the first.
Considering all that has been said we think that only one aim of
the Russian socialists would not be fantastic now: lo achieve
free political institutions, on the one hand, and lo create ele
ments for the setting up of the future uwrkers' socialist, party of
Russia, on the other. They must put forward the demand for
a democratic constitution which shall guarantee the workers the
rights of citizen as well as the rights of man and give them, by
universal suffrage, the possibility lo take an active part in the
political life of the country. W ithout trying to scare anybody
with lhe yet remote red spectre , such a political programme
would arouse sympathy for our revolutionary party among all
those who are not systematic enemies of democracy; it could be
subscribed to by very m any representatives of our liberalism as
well as by the socialists.* And whereas the seizure of power by
some secret revolutionary organisation w ill always be the work
only of that organisation and of those who are initiated in its
plans, agilation for the programme mentioned would be a matter
for the whole of Russian society, in which it would intensify
the conscious striving for political emancipation. Then the inter
ests of the liberals would indeed force them to act jointly
with the socialists against the government, because they would
cease lo meet in revolutionary publications the assurance that,
the overthrow of absolutism would be the signal for a social revo
lution in Russia. At lhe same time another, less tim id and more
soher section of liberal society would no longer see revolutiona
ries as unpractical youths who set themselves unrealisable and
fantastic plans. This view, which is disadvantageous for revolu
tionaries. would give place to the respect of society not only for
their heroism but also for their political m aturity. This sympa
*
INote to the 1905 edition.] The sympathy of society" is very impor
tant for us and we canor more exactly we had many chances towin it
without changing one iota of our programme. But, of course, it requires
lact to make tho possibility a reality, and that is what wc have not always
got. For instance, we sometimes allow ourselves to abuse capital about,
though, of course, not because of, its rebellion. Marx would never have made
such a gross tactical blunder. He would have considered it worthy of Karl
Griiti and other "true socialists.
102
G. P LEK HA N O V
thy would gradually grow into active support, or more probably

into an independent social movement, and then the hour of abso
lu tism s fall would strike at last. The socialist party would play
an extremely honourable and beneficial role in this emancipation
movement. Its glorious past, its selflessness and energy would give
weight to its demands and it would at least stand chances of thus
w inning for the people the possibility of political development
and education, and for itself the right to address its propaganda
openly lo the people and lo organise them openly into a separate
party.
Hut that is not enough. Or more exactly, it is unachievable
without simultaneous action of another kind and in another sphere.
W ithout might there is no right. Every constitution accord
ing to Lassalles splendid expression corresponds or strives
lo correspond to the real, factual relation of forces in the country".
That is why our socialist intelligentsia must concern itself with
changing the factual relations oT Russian social forces iri favour of
Ihe working class even in the pre-conslilutiorial period. Otherwise
Ihe fall of absolutism w ill by no means justify the hopes placed
in it by Ihe Russian socialists or even democrats. Even in a con
stitutional Russia, the demands of the people may be left com
pletely unattended to or satisfied only as far as is necessary lo
allow them lo pay more taxes which Ihey are now almost unable
lo do as a result of the rapacity of the state economic management.
The socialist party itself, having won for the liberal bourgeoisie
freedom of speech and action, may find itself in an exceptional
position sim ilar to that of German Social-Democracy today. In
politics, only he may count on Ihe gratitude of his allies of yester
day, now his enemies, who has nothing more serious to count on.
Fortunately, the Russian socialists can base their hopes on
a firmer foundation. They can and must place their hopes first
and foremost in the working class. The strength of the working
class as of any other classdepends, among other things, on the
clarity of ils political consciousness, its cohesion and its degree
of organisation. It is these elements of its strength thal must be
influenced by our socialist intelligentsia. The latter must become
the leader of Ihe working class in Ihe impending emancipation
movement, explain to it its political and economic interests and
also the interdependence of those interests and must prepare
it to play an independent role in the social life of Russia.
They must exert all their energy so that in the very opening period
of the constitutional life of Russia our working class will be able
to come forward as a separate party w ith a definite social and
political programme. The detailed elaboration of thal programme
inust, of course, be left to Ihe workers themselves, but the intel
ligentsia must elucidate for them its principal points, for instance,
SOCIALISM AND THE
POLITICAL S T R U G G L E
103
a radical review of the present agrarian relations, the taxation

system and factory legislation, state help for producers associa
tions, and so forth. A ll this can be done only by intensive work
among at least the most advanced sections of the working class,
hv oral and printed propaganda and the organisation of workers
socialist study groups. It is time that these tasks have always held
a more or less prominent place in the programmes of our social
ists, and /Calendar Narodnoi Voli can convince us that they
were not forgotten even in the heat of the bitterest fight against
the government (see Preparatory Work of the Parly in section C,
Urban Workers). Hut we suggest that everybody who is acquaint
ed w ilh our revolutionary movement should recall and compare
how much energy and money was wasted on destructive work and
how much was devoted lo training elements for the future work
ers' socialist party. We are not accusing anybody, but we think
(hat the distribution of our revolutionary forces was too one
sided. Yet it would bo vain for us to try to explain this by the
quality of lhe revolutionary forces themselves or of the elements
of the working class which, according to their own programme,
they should have influenced. The appearance and success of such
publications as Zerno and Rabochaya GazetaM show that our revo
lutionaries have not lost their inclination for propaganda, and
our working people are not indifferent to it. Of course these
publications made mistakes, at times serious ones, but only he
who does nothing makes no mistakes. The main trouble is that
in their publications one does not see any of the energy w ith
which printed propaganda is conducted among intellectual
sections of society, that when a print-shop is closed by the police
a new one is not opened in its stead, lhat when it is impossible
to publish them in Russia they are not transferred abroad, and so
forth. Of all the journals from abroad and we had a fair number
of them Rabotnik?1 alone wrote for the people and lhat was the
great merit of its publishers. But Rabotnik has already been closed
for a long time and we have heard nothing of new attempts of
this kind, w ith, say, a new programme, bettersuited to the changed
views of the Russian socialists. W hat has been published here,
in Russia, for the workers besides Zerno and Rabochaya Gazeta?
Absolutely nothing. Not a single booklel, not a single pam phlet.*
*
I Note to the 1905 edition.] From this we see that, the idea of a popular
publication is by no means a novelty in our literature. R ut this did not
prevent it from seeming a dangerous novelty to many comrades no further back
llton on the eve of our Second Congress, when I was almost its only supporter
on the staff of Iskra. This idea has now been practically realisedwith
greater or lesser success. Better late than never. But if you could hear, reader,
what amazing arguments were brought out against this idea in the notfar-off time just, mentioned, you would exclaim, like Faust: Wie weh, wie
well, wie wen!
104
G. PLEK HA N O V
And that at a time when the revolutionary movement has cenlred

universal attention upon itself, and the people, grasping avidly
at the rumours and opinions, have been wondering anxiously:
W hat do these people want? Can one be astonished, after Ibis, at
the absurd answers to this question with which, for lack of belter
ones, they are sometimes satisfied? We repeat: wo are not accus
ing anybody, we advise everybody to pay attention to this aspect
of the matter so as to make up for the omission in time.*
Thus, the struggle for political freedom, on tho one hand, and
the preparation of the working class for its future independent
and offensive role, on the other, such, in our opinion, is the only
possible setting of party tasks at present. To bind together in
one two so fundamentally different matters as the overthrow of
absolutism and the socialist revolution, to wage revolutionary
struggle in the belief that these, elements of social development
w ill coincide in the history of our country means to put oft the advent
of both. But it depends on us to bring these two elements closer
together. We must follow the splendid example of the German
Communists who, as the Manifesto says, fight with the bourgeoisie
whenever it acts in a revolutionary way, against the absolute
monarchy , and yet never cease, for a single instant, to instil
into the working class the clearest possible recognition of the
hostile antagonism between bourgeoisie and proletariat. Acting
thus, the Communists wanted Ihe bourgeois revolution in Germa
ny to be but the prelude to an immediately following proletari
an revolution ."8
The present position of bourgeois societies and the influence of
international relations on the social development of each civilised
country entitle us to hope that the social emancipation of the
Russian working class w ill follow very quickly upon the fall of
absolutism. If the German bourgeoisie came too late, the Russian
has come still later, and its domination cannot be a long one.
Only the Russian revolutionaries should not, in their turn, begin
too late tho preparation of the working class, a matter which
has now become of absolute urgency.
Let us make a reservation to avoid misunderstandings. We do
not hold the view, which as we have seen was ascribed to Marxs
school rather than it existed in reality, and which alleges that the
socialist movement cannot obtain support from our peasantry
u n til the peasant has been turned into a landless proletarian and
the village commune has disintegrated under the influence of capital
ism. We thin k that on the whole the Russian peasantry would
show great sympathy for any measure aim ing at the so-called
*
This year," we read in the Supplement to Listok of A'. V. No. 1 (1883,
p. 61), "there was a whole series of strikes which, thanks to the workers' lack
of organisation, were mostly failures!
SOCIALISM AND T H E
POLITICAL STRUGGLE
105
nationalisation of the land. Given the possibility of any at all

free agitation among the peasants,* they would also sympathise
with the socialists, who naturally would not be slow in introducing
into their programme the demand for a measure of that kind. But
we do not exaggerate the strength of our socialists or ignore the
obstacles, the opposition which they w ill inevitably encounter
from that quarter in their work. For that reason, and for that rea
son only, we think that for the beginning they should concentrate
their main attention on the industrial centres. The rural popula
tion of today, living in backward social conditions, is not only
less capable of conscious political initiative than the industrial
workers, it is also less responsire to the movement, which our
revolutionary intelligentsia has begun. It has greater difficulty
in mastering the socialist teachings, because its living conditions
are too much unlike the conditions which gave birth to those*
teachings. And besides, the peasantry is now going through a diffi
cult, critical period. Tho previous ancestral foundations of its
economy are crumbling, the ill-fated village commune itself is
being discredited in its eyes , as is admitted even by such ances
tral organs of Narodism as Nedelya#B (see No. 39, the article by
Mr. N. Z. I n Our Native Parts")-, and the new forms of labour and
life are only in the process of formation, and this creative process
is more intensive in the industrial centres. Like water which
washes away the soil in one place and forms new sediments and
deposits in others, the process of Russian social development is
creating new social formations by destroying the age-old forms of
the peasants relation to the land and lo one another. These new
social formations contain the embryo of a new social movement
which alone can end the exploitation of Russia's working popula
tion. The industrial workers, who are more developed and have
higher requirements and a broader outlook than the peasantry,
will join our revolutionary intelligentsia in its struggle against
absolutism, and when they have won political freedom they will
organise into a workers socialist party whose task w ill be to
begin systematic propaganda of socialism among the peasantry.
We say systematic propaganda because isolated opportunities of
propaganda must not be missed even at present. It is hardly
necessary to add that our socialists would have to change the
distribution of their forces among lhe people if a strong indepen
dent movement made itself felt among the peasantry.
That is the programme which life itself suggests to the Rus
sian revolutionary socialist party. W ill the party be able to carry
out this programme? W ill it be prepared to give up its fantastic
plans and notions, which, it must be adm itted, have a great appeal
* [Note to the 1905 edition.] i.e., under a constitution.
106
G. P LE K H A N O V
to sentiment and imagination? It is as yet difficult to answer that

question w ith certitude. The Announcement of the Publication of
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli" speaks of the political tasks of the revo
lutionary party only in the most general terms. 70 Vestnik's editorial
board describes those aims as absolutely definite and apparent
ly does not consider it necessary to define them again in its
announcement. That is why there is ground for fear that it will
not consider it necessary either to ask itself whether the abso
lutely definite conditions of present Russian actuality correspond
to the absolutely definite aims of the Narodnaya Volya party.
In that case the new publication w ill leave unsatisfied the most
urgent need of our revolutionary literature, the need for a criti
cal reconsideration of obsolete programmes and traditional methods
of action. B ut we hope that the future w ill dissipate our fears.
We wish to hope that the new publication w ill take a sober view
of our revolutionary partys tasks, on whose fulfilm ent the partys
future depends. Social life w ill be just as pitiless to the partys
present illusions as it was to those of our rebels and propagan
dists. I t is better to follow its directions now than to pay for its stern
lessons later by splits and new disappointments.
OUR DIFFERENCES
LETTER TO P. L. LAVROV
(In Lieu of Preface)
Dear Pyotr Lavrovich,
You are dissatisfied w ith the Em ancipation of Labour group.
In No. 2 of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli you devoted a whole article to
its publications, and although the article was not a very long one,
its two and a half pages were enough to express your disagreement
with the groups programme and your dissatisfaction over its
attitude to the Narodnaya Volya party . 71
Having been long accustomed to respect your opinions and
knowing, moreover, how attentively our revolutionary youth of
all shades and trends listen to them, I take the liberty of saying
a few words in defence of the group, towards which, it seems, you
are not quite fair.
I consider myself all the more entitled to do so as in your article
you speak m ainly of my pamphlet Socialism and the Political
Struggle. As it was that pamphlet which caused your reproaches,
it is most fitting that its author should answer them.
You find that the pamphlet can be divided into two parts, to
each of which , in your opinion, you must adopt a different
attitude. One part, namely, the second chapter, deserves the
same attention as any serious work on socialism. The other, which
constitutes a considerable portion of the pamphlet, you say, is
devoted to a controversy on the past and present activity of the
Narodnaya Volya party, whose organ abroad your journal intends
to be. Not only do you disagree w ith the opinions which I ex
press in that part, but the very fact of a controversy w ith Narod
naya Volya seems to you to deserve severe censure. You thin k
it would not be particularly difficult to prove to Mr. Plekhanov
that his attacks can be countered w ith quite weighty objections
(all the more as, perhaps due to haste, his quotations are not
exact). You are convinced that my own programme of action
contains perhaps more serious shortcomings and unpractical
things than I accuse the Narodnaya Volya party o f. But to my
immense regret you cannot spare the time to point out these
shortcomings and unpractical things. The organ of the Narodnaya
108
G. PLEK HA N O V
Volya party, you say, is devoted to the struggle against

the political and social enemies of the Russian people ; that
struggle is so complicated that it takes up a ll your time, all
your work. You have neither the leisure nor the desire to
devote a part of your publication to a controversy w ith groups
of Russian revolutionary socialism which consider a controversy
with Narodnaya Volya more timely for them than the struggle
against the Russian Government and the other exploiters of the
Russian people . Hoping that time itself w ill settle the questions
at issue in your favour, you do not consider it useful to stress"
your not particularly serious disagreement with the Emancipa
tors of Labour, as you choose to call us,* by direct blows at a group
the m ajority of whose members may any day now be in the ranks
of Narodnaya Volya". This transformation of Emancipators of
Labour into members of Narodnaya Volya appears all the more
probable to you as, to quote your own words, Mr. Plekhanov
himself, as he said in the preface to his pamphlet, has already
undergone a sufficiently great evolution in his political and social
convictions and you have reason to hope for new steps on my
part in the same direction. Reaching that, point in my evolu
tion a point which apparently seems to you the apogee of pos
sible development of Russian socialism at present you hope
I may acknowledge still another aspect of Ihe practical task of
every group in the social army lighting the common enemy,
namely, that to disrupt the organisation of that army, even if
one sees or ass\imes certain shortcomings in it, is permissible
only either to the enemies of that armys cause" (among whom you
do not include me), or to a group which by its own activity, its
own strength and organisation, is capable of becoming a social
army at a particular historical minute. B ut such a role, in your
opinion, is a matter of a remote and perhaps somewhat doubtful
future for the Emancipators of Labour as such, i.e., for people
who have not yet completed the cycle of their transformations
and are now something like Narodnaya Volya larvae or pupae.
Such, dear Pyotr Lavrovich, is the almost wTord-for-word con
tent of all that you said about my pamphlet. Perhaps I have wea
ried you with my abundance of quotations from your own article,
*
Concerning this name which you have invented, I take the liberty,
incidentally, of noting the following: "Emancipation of Labour is our
groups motto and name. Hut to call the Emancipation of Labour group
Emancipators of Labour is a fault against etymology. I shall explain this
by means of an example. Your collaborators talk a lot about government
of the people; with a little consistency they should agree that the very name
of their party Narodnaya Volvais but tho motto, the expression of the
striving for a political system tne idea of which is linked with the term
government of the people. But does that mean that they can claim the title
of governors of the people?
nrb
............. ......
'
NOS CONTROVERSES, par G. Plechanoff
BHBJIIOTEKA COBPEMEHHArO C0UIAJIH3MA

Btanycxt Tpemiu.
H A H
P A M
A C I f l
T. IIjiexaHOBa.
UtHA 1 p y 6 .
JK E H E B A
T*norp4>i/i rpynnu Oco6ox*eHie Tpyfl*
JLp
L3
1884
q ^
LHX-,--------------------------------- - * x a i{ g ]
Title-page of the first edition of Our Differences
^ T ^ r , k V '- ' '-;<V

' ir
w
r'1.
: S f | iM '
ifBuJ
__ rri '-l.
'
- .
1.
k
-4
&
1-i-
J .t L a ^ g a C II
10
W? A lt iTffl
.i rfc
i if
fVJSi
W lK*- .
u
i l l f *5
*"' h k m ^ U f t o l v ^ M
K t t S jM B * '
**<v l $ r ^ i'|ViV) <i tetri"
' * * * ' ' *
-11
"
!!.'Vtj>/'U'ffi:i1fC,.,._:i . i v * :1
> K ;
.
Jif* 't i& w i t :
1 ir nfiflLv v '
"*
i
If. Jilt
R .M fe T m H . ..)>(*!
,- V ; !:.;>'.. fl- "

^ S _ - * < ___ k -> _______ _________ v
: _____ ______i . ___! _ .
t_ i_
_ ii_ . * L a .
S j j ____ _ ___ i _____i_u
OUH DIFFEREN CES
111
but, on the one hand, I was afraid f would again receive the rep
roach that my quotations are not exact , and, besides, I did not
consider it superfluous to recall your words in full to the reader, so
as to make it easier for him to pronounce the final verdict, in our
case. You know that the reading public is the chief and supreme
judge in all disputes which arise in the free republic of speech.
It is, therefore, not surprising that each of the parties must take all
steps to make the true character of the question under dispute
clear to the public..
After setting forth your remarks on my pamphlet and your
considerations on the tactics adopted by the Emancipation of
Labour group towards the Narodnaya Volya party , I now go on,
dear Pyotr Lavrovich, to explanations without which it is impos
sible to understand correctly the motives which prompted my
comrades and me to act precisely in this way and no other.
Actually, 1 could say that all talk of such motives is complete
ly unnecessary, and the reader may find it of very little interest.
How so? Is not the question of the immediate tasks, the tactics
and the scientific substantiation of all our revolutionaries
activity the most important and most v ita l question in Kussian
life for us? Can it be regarded as already settled finally and w ith
out appeal? Is not every revolut ionary writer obliged to promote its
clarification by all means at his disposal and w ith all the attention
he is capable of? Or can this clarification be considered useful only
if it results in the conviction that although the Russian revolution
aries have not the pope's in fa llib ility , they have not made a sin
gle mistake in their practical work or a single error in their theo
retical arguments, that all is well in both these respects? Or
must those who do not share that pleasant confidence be condemned
to silence, and may the purity of their intentions be suspected
every time they take up their pen to call the revolutionaries
attention to the way the revolutionary cause is being conducted,
and how, as far as they can judge, it should be conducted? If
Spinoza said as early as in the seventeenth century that, in a free
stale everybody must be granted the right, to think as he pleases
and say what he thinks, may that right be placed in doubt at lhe
end of the nineteenth century by members of a socialist party, if
even of the most backward state in Europe? If the Russian social
ists recognise in principle the right of free speech and include the
demand for il in their programmes, they cannot restrict its
enjoyment to the group or party which claims hegemony in
a particular period of the revolutionary movement. 1 think that
now, when our legal literature is persecuted most ruthlessly,
when in our fatherland all that is living and honest is mown
down 72 in the field of thought as in all others I think that
at such a time a revolutionary writer should rather be asked the
reason for his silence than for the fact of the publication of one or
112
G. P LEKHANOV
other of his works. If you agree with this and you can hardly
fail to you w ill also agree that one cannot condemn to hypocrisy
a revolutionary writer who, as Herzen splendidly puts it, must
sacrifice very, very much to the human dignity of free speech.
And if that also is true, can he be censured if he says in plain terms
and without any reservation what he thinks of any of the pro
grammes of revolutionary activity? I am sure, dear Pyotr Lavrovich,
that you w ill answer that question in the negative. For that I have
one guarantee, among others, in your having signed the Announce
ment of the Publication of Veslnik Narodnoi Voli", page V III
of which tells us: Socialism, like every other v ital historical idea,
gives rise to numerous, though not particularly substantial,
differences among its supporters, and many questions in it, both
theoretical and practical, remain disputable. Owing to the greater
intricacy, the greater difficulties and the greater recency of the
development of Russian socialism, there is perhaps a still larger
number of more or less considerable differences in tho views of
Russian socialists. But, we repeat, this just goes to show that
the Russian socialist party is a living one which stimulates ener
getic thought and firm convictions among its supporters, a party
which has not contented itself with dogmatic belief in formulae
learned by rote.
I do not understand how an editor who signed that announce
ment can be dissatisfied at the writings of a group whose differ
ences with Narodnaya Volya he considers not particularly substantial (Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, section I I, page 65, line
1 0 from bottom); I cannot imagine that tho journal which published
that announcement can be hostile to people who have not
contented themselves with dogmatic belief in formulae learned
by rote. For one cannot entertain the thought that the lines
I have quoted were written merely to explain to the reader why
the programme put forward by Veslnik Narodnoi Voli embraces
views which are to a certain extent not identical w ith one another
{Announcement of the Publication of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli,
p. V II). Nor can one presume that after setting itself such a
definite programme Vestnik w ill see a vital significance in the
more or less considerable differences between the Russian social
ists only if they do not go beyond the lim its of that pro
gramme, which embraces views which are to a certain oxtent not
identical with one another. That would mean being tolerant only
to members of ones own church, adm itting with Shchedrin's
characters that opposition is harmless only if it does no harm.
Such liberalism, such tolerance, would not be of great comfort
to Russian nonconformist 73 socialists, of whom there are appar
ently no few now since you speak yourself in your article o l groups
which consider a controversy with Narodnaya Volya more timely,
OUR DIFFER EN CES
113
etc. From these words it is obvious that there are at least two
such groups and that Veslnik. which intends to be the organ of
unification of all the Russian socialist-revolutionaries , is still
far from having attained its aim. I think that such a failure
should have widened, not narrowed the lim its of the inherent
tolerance of its editorial board.
You advise me not to disrupt the organisation" of our revolu
tionary army. But allow me first of all to inquire what social
army you are talking about. If by that metaphor you mean the
organisation of the Narodnaya Volya party, I never thought my
pamphlet would have such destructive influence on it, and I am
convinced lhat the first member of Narodnaya Volya that you ask
will put you at ease on that score. But. if by disrupting the
organisation of the social army you mean winning to our group
people who for some reason or other are outside the Narodnaya
Volya party , the organisation of the social army only stands
to gain by lhat, for in it there w ill appear a new group, composed,
so to speak, of new recruits. Besides, since when has discussion
of the path followed by this or that army and the expression of
the assurance that I here is anot her path which w ill lead more
surely and quickly to victory been considered as disruption of
the organisation of that army"? I think such a confusion of con
cepts is possible only among the barbarous hordes of lhe Asiatic
despotic stales, but certainly not among the armies of modern
civilised states. For who is not aware that criticism of the tactics
adopted by this or that army can barm only the m ilitary reputa
tion of that army's generals, who are perhaps not disinclined to
lay lhe finger of silence on indiscreet mouths. But what has
that to do with the organisation of the army, and who, indeed,
are ils leaders? You know that such leaders can be either elected
by the rank and file or appointed from above. Let us agree for
a minute that the Executive Committee plays the role of leader to
our revolutionary army. The question is: are even those who did
not take part in its election obliged to subm it to it, or, if it was
appointed from above, who had the power, and what power, to
appoint it?
You include the Emancipation of Labour group among the
groups of Russian revolutionary socialism which consider a con
troversy with Narodnaya Volya more timely for them than the
struggle against the Russian Government and tho other exploiters
of lhe Russian people. Allow me to ask you whether you think
that the peculiarities of the Russian people and the present
historical moment also include lhe circumstance that the struggle
against its exploiters can be waged without the dissemination
of the ideas which express the moaning and the tendency of that
struggle. Is it for me, former a rebel , 74 to prove to you, a former
8U1329
114
G. P LEKHANOV
editor of tho journal Vpenjod, that the growth of the revolutionary

movement is inconceivable without the dissemination of the
most progressive, the soundest, in a word, the most revolutionary
ideas and conccpts among tho appropriate section of society?
Are you one whose attention must be drawn to the circumstance
that socialismas expressed" in the works of Marx and Engels
is the most powerful spiritual weapon in the struggle against all
possible exploiters of the people? The dissemination of what the
writers just named taught is precisely the purpose of my comrades,
as is clearly stated in the announcement of the publication of the
Library of Modern Socialism. There can be no doubt that the socia
lism of M arxs school differs in many respects from Russian
socialism as ex pressed in our revolutionary movement as a whole
and in the Narodnaya Volya party in particular, for Russian
socialism still wears a long Bakuninist pigtail down its back,
it is also quite natural and understandable that Russian Marxists
are therefore not unfrequently obliged to adopt a negative attitude
towards certain formulae learned by rote , but it by no means
follows from this that they prefer the struggle against the revolu
tionaries to the struggle against the government. In Vestnik
Narodnoi Voli a certain Mr. Tarasov exerts himself to refute one
of the fundamental propositions of Marxs historical theory.*
IJis article is given the first place, the foremost corner, so to
speak, in No. 2 of Vestnik.16 Does this mean that Mr. Tarasov
regards a controversy with Marx as more timely than the struggle
against the Russian Government and tho other exploiters of the
Russian people? Or does a controversy which is appropriate and
timely" coming from the pen of Diihringists, Bakuninists and
Blanquists become an insult to the grandeur of the Russian revo
lution as soon as Marxists raise their voice? Is such an attitude on
the part of an author who has so often declared his agreement with
Marxs theories fair, nay more, is it explainable?
I am well aware lhat it is by no means easy to settle the ques
tion of our revolutionary partys tasks from the point of view of
*
I still hope to have a special talk with Mr. Tarasov when lie has finished
his article. Hut let me now note that he does not nt all understand either Marx
or his epigoni" and in his inviolable simplicity it is tho petty-bourgeois
George Molinari, and not the great socialist Karl Marx, lie polemises with.
Mr. Tarasovs method greatly embarrasses me in exactly the same way.
The honourable author probably borrowed it from the same bourgeois science
whose "bankruptcy he so irrefutably proved in the first issue of VestnOt.
Just as bourgeois writers were in the habit, when they wished to prove their
natural laws", of inventing savages" who naturally never dreamed of
anything as much as saving and accumulating capital", so Mr. Tarasov
now quite consciously ignores the modern findings of ethnology and invents
savages" who are obvious Blanquists and desire only to seize power"
over their neighbours. This originally inductive method threatens to reduce
to completo bankruptcy Mr. Tarasovs Diihringian socialist science.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
115
Marxs theories. The fundamental principles of these theories are,

in fact, only the major term in the syllogism, so that people
who equally recognise the correctness and tho great scientific
significance of this first term may either agree or disagree as to
the conclusion, according to the way in which they understand the
minor term, which is this or that assessment of the present
Russian situation. That is why I am not at all surprised at your
disagreement with our programme, although I think that if you
were still a Marxist you would not be capable of proving to me
that my programme contains more serious shortcomings and
unpractical things than I accuse the Narodnaya Volya party
of. But no disagreements in assessing the present. Russian situa
tion will explain to me and my comrades the unfair attitude that
you adopted towards us in your article.
1 appeal to the readers im partiality. On the desk before the
editor of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli lie two pamphlets published
by the Emancipation of Labour group. One of them is a transla
tion of a work by Engels which the honourable editor calls the most
remarkable work of socialist literature in recent years .
The second, in the words of the same editor, deserves, as far as
one part of it is concerned, the same attention as any serious
work 011 socialism". The second part contains a controversy on
the past and present activity of Narodnaya Volya, a controversy
aimed at proving to that party that having dealt the death-blow
to all the traditions of orthodox Narodism by its practical activi
ty and having done so much for the development of the revolution
ary movement in Russia, the Narodnaya Volya party cannot find
a justification for itself nor should it seek oneoutside modern
scientific socialism.* And lhat part of a part of the Emancipation
of Labour group publications proves, in the opinion of our editor,
that the group sets itself almost exclusively the task of polemising with Narodnaya Volya and is ready, for that purpose, to give
up the struggle against the government! Even the least im p artial
reader will agree that such an inference from the part to the whole
is not justified by the character of the other parts of that whole.
I do not deny that one part of my pamphlet is controversial,
or to be more exact, critical. But the fact lhat a controversy with
Narodnaya Volya was not lhe exclusive aim even of the part
incriminated is obvious if only from what you, Pyotr Lavrovich,
have overlooked, namely, that my criticism was not confined to
the Narodnaya Volya period in lhe Russian revolutionary move
ment. I also criticised other stages in it. And if, indeed, from tho
fact of my printed and, moreover, motivated expression of disagree
ment w ilh one revolutionary programme or another it follows that
*
See the pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle, p. 20 [p. 66of this volume).
8*
116
G. PLEK HA NO V
a controversy against that programme is the main aim of my

writing, the accusation brought against me should, in the inter
est of truth, have been considerably extended. It should have been
said that the principal aim of iny w riting was to polemise with the
anarchists, the Bakuninists, the Narodniks of the old trend, the
members of Narodnaya Volya and, finally, the Marxists who
do not understand the significance of the political struggle for
the emancipation of the proletariat. Moreover, it should also
have been taken into account that the other part of Mr. Plekha
novs pamphlet is devoted to the exposition and proof of the
philosophical and historical side of the teaching of Marx and
Engels. Then it would have been clear that I was guilty of spread
ing the revolutionary views that I share and of polemising with
those which seem to me erroneous. But there is more to it than
that. A careful examination of all the circumstances of the case
would have revealed that my crime had been committed with
pre-considered intent , since as far back as in the Announcement
of the Publication of the Library of Modern Socialism" P. Axel
rod and I expressly stated that the purpose of those editions
boiled down lo:
1 ) The spreading of the ideas of scientific socialism by translat
ing into Russian the most important works of the school of Marx
and Engels and original works intended for readers w ith various
degrees of education.
2) The criticism of the teachings prevalent among our revolu
tionaries and the elaboration of ihe most important questions in
Russian social life from the standpoint of scientific socialism and
the interests of the working population of Russia.
That is the true character of the deed that provoked your
dissatisfaclion. To make even a single reproach to the man who
committed it one must first prove that there is now no need for
criticism of the programmes and teachings prevalent among us
revolutionaries, or that criticism must be transformed, as Belinsky
once saidnaturally in another connection into a modest ser
vant of authority, a flattering repeater of worn-out common
places. But I have already said that there is hardly a writer who
would undertake to support such an unheard-of proposition, and
you, dear Pyotr Lavrovich, w ill certainly on no account assert that
it is time for our revolutionary party to content itself with dog
matic belief in formulae learned by rote. If that is so, then
Wozu der Laerm?
However, many people, although they cannot bring themselves
to deny completely the significance of criticism in our revolu
tionary literature, apparently think that not every person or
OUR D IFFEREN CES
117
individual group of persons has tho right, lo criticise the teach

ings and tactics of an active party". Since my pamphlet was
published 1 have frequently had the occasion to hear remarks in
that vein. Party of action", tho traditions of Narodnaya Volya ,
heroic strugglesuch have been the phrases used to disguise
fear of the slightest reference to formulae learned by rote of our
revolutionary catcchism. -My right to express disagreement with
the Narodnaya Volya party, or rather w ith its writings, has been
contested with utter disregard of who is right the publicists of
our party of action or 1. As I listened to these attacks on my
pamphlet 1 could not help recalling the argument of the Bache
lor of Salamanca , Don Inigo-i-Medroso-i-Comodios-i-Papalamiendo, 77 in the famous controverse des mais.
Mais, monsieur, malgre toutes les belles choses que vous venez
de me dire. this dialectician said, vous m avouerez que votre
eglise anglicane, si respectable, n existait pas avant dom Luther
et avant dom Eccolampade; vous etes tout nouveaux: done vous
nftes pas de la maison! And I wonder whether the arguments
furnished by the great satirist to his bitterest enemies can bo
used seriously by Russian revolutionaries and whether the cari
cature of the Catholic bachelor" is to become the perfect image of
Russian revolutionary dialecticians. You w ill agree, dear Pyotr
Lnvrovich, that there is nothing sadder than such a prospect and
that no anxiety for the integrity of lhe organisation means any
thing at all in comparison with fear of the possibility of such
terrible intellectual degeneration!
It is in the interests of Narodnaya Volya to counteract as reso
lutely as possible the degeneration of our revolutionary literature
into revolutionary scholasticism. And yet, your article, my dear
Pyotr Lavrovich, is more likely to m aintain than to weaken the
zeal of our revolutionary bachelors". The conviction expressed
by you that to disrupt the organisation of the revolutionary
army is permissible only either to the enemies of that armys
cause ... or lo a group which by its own activity, its own strength
and organisation, is capable of becoming a social army at a partic
ular historical minute, your pointing out lhat, as regards our
group, this role is a matter of a remote and perhaps somewhat
doubtful future all Ibis can give grounds for the conclusion
that, in your opinion, although our group may have its own view
at its age ,78 il must carefully conceal it every time it contradicts
the opinion of the editors of one or other of the Narodnaya Volya
parly periodicals. Of course it would be wrong to draw such a con
clusion from what you wrote, but one must not forget that people
do not always judge by the rules of strict logic.
The very prim1iple you express in the lines just quoted can give
rise to many unfortunate misunderstandings. Those lines can bo
118
G. PLEK H A N O V
a completely untim ely avis for nonconformist readers, whom

they can lead on to approximately the following thoughts. I t is
permissible for a group capable of becoming a social army at
a particular historical minute" to disrupt the organisation of
our revolutionary army. A ll the more is it permissible for the
latter, as a tried and tested force, to disrupt the organisation
of nonconformist groups whose hegemony it considers a matter
of a remote and perhaps somewhat doubtful future. But which
revolutionary group do the editors of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli
consider to be a social army? Probably the Narodnaya Volya
party. That means but the conclusion is clear, and it is an
extremely sad conclusion for groups which have hitherto taken
for granted, as we have, that the outlooks of others may be crit
icised but that the organisations of others must not be disrupt
ed" and that it is better to advance alongside of them, support
ing and supplementing one another".*
Our groups future seems doubtful to you. I am prepared to
doubt of it myself as far as our group itself, not the outlooks
which it represents, is concerned.**
The fact of the matter is as follows.
It is no secret to anybody lhat our revolutionary movement is
now going through a critical period. Narodnaya V olyas terrorist
tactics set our party quite a number of highly important and vital
problems. But unfortunately these problems are still unsolved.
The stock of Bakuninist and Proudhonist theories that were in
use among us proved insufficient even for the correct posing of
those questions. The stick that was previously bent over in one
direction has now been bent back in the other. The former com
pletely unjustified rejection of politics has now given place to
a no more justified confidence in the omnipotence of conspiratorial
political scheming. The Petersburg Narodnaya Volya pro
gramme was Bakuninism turned upside-down with its Slavophile
contrasting of Russia to the West, its idealisation of the prim i
tive forms of national life and its faith in lhe social wonder-working
of our intelligentsia's revolutionary organisations. The theoretical
principles from which lhe programme departs have remained un
changed, the practical conclusions alone being diametrically
opposed to the former ones. Renouncing political abstention,
Bakuninism has described an arc of 180 degrees and has been
*
See the Announcement of the Publication of the Library of Modern
Socialism, note to p. 3.,a
** [Note to the 1905 edition.] It is now strange even to read these con
troversies on the future of Social-Democracy in Russia. It now predominates
among revolutionaries and would have been naturally still stronger were
it not for the disagreements within it.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
119
revived as a Russian variety of Blanquism basing its revolution

ary hopes on Russia's economic backwardness .
This Blanquism is now attem pting to create its own particular
theory and has recently been fairly fully expressed in Mr. Tikho
mirovs article What Can We Expect from the Revolution?"*0
In that article he makes use of the whole arsenal of the Russian
Blanquists to defend his own programme. One cannot deny
Mr. Tikhomirov's ability to use the weapon: he skilfully marshals
the facts in his favour, carefully avoids any contradictory pheno
mena and appeals, not w ithout success, to the readers feelings
when he has no hopo of influencing his logic. His weapon has been
renovated, cleaned and sharpened. But if you examine it more
attentively you will see that it is nothing but the -old-fashioned
sword of Bakuninism and Tkachovism81 embellished with a new
trade-mark, that of V. V .,sa an expert in reactionary theories in
Petersburg. Below I shall give a few extracts from I . N. Tkachovs
Open Letter to Frederick Engels", and you w ill see for yourself,
dear Pyotr Lavrovich, that your comrade is only repeating what
was said ten years ago by the editor of Nabat and what drew a
sharp answer from Engels in a pamphlet not unknown to you,
Soziales aus Russland. Have ten years of the movement taught
our writers nothing better? Does the Narodnaya Volya party
refuse to understand the historical significance of its own sacri
fices. the political importance of its genuinely heroic struggle
against absolutism? Not being in Russia, neither you nor I can
say anything definite about tho state of mind now prevalent
among the members of Narodnaya Volya. But as far as can be
judged from what is going on outside the Narodnaya Volya organ
isation, we can be certain that the revolutionary movement is
not destined to be revived under the banner of Tkachovism. Our
revolutionary youth is irresolute and hesitant, it has lost faith
in the old forms of action, and the number of new programmes
and theories which now appear among it proves that not a single
one of them is able to embrace all the real interests and all the
vital tasks of our movement. Scepticism is coming into its own.
Narodnaya Volya is losing its former fascination. The period of
more than three years that has elapsed since the event of March l 83
has been characterised by a fall of revolutionary energy in
Russia. This sad fact cannot be disputed. But it seems to me that
a great many people offer too superficial an explanation of it.
They say that our movement has weakened under the impact
of persecution by the government. I have too much faith in the
timeliness of the Russian revolution to be satisfied with such
a hackneyed explanation. I think that the Russian revolution
has an enormous, invincible potential energy, and that reaction
is raising its head only because we are unable to transform that
120
G. PLEK HA N O V
energy from potential into kinetic. Russias social tasks today

cannot find a satisfactory solution in the traditional conspira
torial programme of Blanquism. Little by little that hackneyed
programme w ill become the Procrustean bed of the Russian
revolution. One by one all the methods of action, all the elements
of the movement which have been its strength and tho conditions
of its influence, will be sacrificed to its spectral and fantastic
aims. The terrorist struggle, agitation among the people and in
society and the rousing and development of popular initiative
are all only of secondary importance for the Blanquist. His atten
tion is centred first and foremost on conspiracy aimed at seizing
power. lie does not bother about the development of the social
forces or the establishment of institutions calculated to make
a return to the old regime impossible. A ll he endeavours to do
is to combine the already existing forces of society. He has no
regard for history, does not try to understand its laws or to
direct his revolutionary activity in accordance w ith them; he
sim ply substitutes his own conspiratorial skill for history.*
And as the growth of the revolutionary forces in Russia is far
from being complete, as those forces are still in the process des
Werdens, this violent arresting of their development is bound to
have very harmful consequences and to make reaction more se
cure instead of promoting the cause of progress. In this case, one
of two things may happen. Either the future of the Russian revo
lution will be placed at stake in a plot which has less chances of
success than any otherthe social-revolutionary p lo tor a new
force will emerge out of the womb of oppositional and revolu
tionary Russia, a force which will push the Narodnaya Volya
party into the background and take the cause of our movement
in its own hands.
It would be very disadvantageous for the socialists if the lead
ership in the struggle were to pass into the hands of our liberals.
This would at once deprive them of their former influence and
postpone for many years the formation of a socialist party among
the progressive strata of the people. That is why we refer our
revolutionary youth to Marxism, that algebra of the revolution,
as I called it in my pam phlet, that programme which teaches
its supporters to make use of every step in social development for
tho revolutionary education of the working class. And I am sure
that sooner or later our youth and our workers groups w ill adopt
this, the only revolutionary programme. I n this sense, the fu
ture of our group is by no means doubtful , and I do not understand
*
An obvious example: one of the paragraphs of the Statute of the socalled Nechayevists says expressly that "the general principle of the organi
sation is not lo convince, i.e., not to produce forces, but to unite those already
existing.**
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
121
where you get your scepticism from in this case you, a writer
who, as recently as in the same No. 2 of Vestnik, called Marx
the gioat teacher who ushered socialism into its scientific phase,
proved its historical legitimacy and at the same time initiated
the organisational unity of the workers revolutionary party.85
For nne cannot profess tho theoretical principles of the great
teacher and deduce Bakuninism or Blanquism from them in
practice.
I repeat that the most consistent Marxists may disagree in
the appraisal of the present Russian situation. That is why we in
no case wish to cover our programme w ith the authority of a great
namo.* And moreover, we are ready to adm it in advance that
our programme contains many shortcomings and- unpractical
things, like any first attempt at applying a particular scientific
theory to the analysis of very complicated and entangled social
relations. Rut tho fact is that so far neither my comrades nor
I have a finally elaborated programme, complete from tho first
paragraph to the last.88 We only show our comrades the direction
in which the answer to the revolutionary problems interesting
them is to be sought; we only defend the reliable and unmistaken
criterion with the help of which they will finally be able lo strip
off themselves the rags of the revolutionary metaphysics which
has so far held undivided sway over our minds; we only prove that
our revolutionary movement, far from losing anything, will gain
a lot if the Russian Narodniks and the Russian Narodnaya Volya
at last become Russian Marxists and a new, higher standpoint
reconciles all the groups existing among us .** Our programme has
still to be completed and completed there, on the spot, by those
same groups of workers and revolutionary youth who will fight
for its fulfilment. Corrections, additions and improvements to
this programme are quite natural, inevitable and indispensable.
We arc not afraid of criticism, we wait for it im patiently and
will naturally not stop our ears to it like Famusov.87 In presenting
this first attempt at a programme for the Russian Marxists to
the comrades working in Russia, we are far from wishing to
compete with Narodnaya Volya; on the contrary, there is noth
ing we desire more than full and final agreement w ith that
party. We think that the Narodnaya Volya party must become
a Marxist party if it at all wishes to remain faithful to its revo
lutionary traditions and to get the Russian movement out of
its present stagnation.
*
|Note to the 1005 edition.) Quite recently, just a few days ago, this
same statement of mine was understood by the Social-Democratic newspaper
Proletary as expressing uncertainty as to the correctness of my opinion. Rut
it has ii different explanation. I never wished to jurare in verba mapistri.
** Socialism and the Political Struggle, p. 56 lp. ill of this volume).
122
G. PLEK H A N O V
W hen I speak of the revolutionary traditions of Narodnaya

Volya 1 have in m ind not only the terrorist struggle, not only
the political murders and attempted murders; 1 mean the broad
ening oT the channel of tho Russian movement which was the
necessary consequence of that struggle and which showed us how
narrow, abstract, and one-sided were the theories wo professed
at that time. Dynam ite killed those theories along w ith Alexan
der I I . But both Russian absolutism and Bakuninism in all its
varieties are only dead, not buried. They are no longer living,
they are not developing, but they are still rotting and contami
nating w ith their corruption the whole of Russia, from her most
conservative to her most revolutionary sections. O nly the whole
some atmosphere of Marxism can help Narodnaya Volya to
finish the work it began so b rillia n tly , because, as Lassalle said,
the glow of dawn is seen earlier from the high peaks of science
than from the bustle of everyday life . Marxism w ill show our
Narodovoltsi how, while bringing into the movement new strata
as yet almost untapped by them, they can at the same lim e avoid
the reefs of fatal one-sidedness; how, while utilising the progres
sive aspects of the m aturing liberal revolution, they can never
theless remain perfectly loyal to the cause of the working class and
of socialism. Being completely free from any narrow sectarianism,
we wish Narodnaya Volya, not failure, but further success, and
if we stretch out only one hand to it for reconciliation, the reason
is that w ith the other we show it the theory of modern scientific
socialism with the words, I n this thou shall conquer!"
Unfortunately Spencer is quite right when he notes that every
organisation is conservative in direct proportion to its perfec
tion. The stern practice of struggle against absolutism evolved the
strong and powerful organisation of Narodnaya Volya. This
absolutely necessary and highly useful organisation is no excep
tion to the general rule; it is an obstacle to theoretical successes
for Ihe Narodnaya Volya party, as it now strives to raise into dog
mas and to perpetuate the programme and the teachings which
could have but a temporary and transitory significance. At the
end of my pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle, 1 ex
pressed the hope that Vestnik Narodnoi Voli would be able to adopt
a critical attitude towards the theoretical errors in the programme
and the mistakes in the practical work of Narodnaya Volya.
We wish to hope, I said, that the new publication will take
a sober view of our revolutionary partys tasks, on whose fululment the partys future depends. I expected the Geneva Vestnik
to go further than the Petersburg Narodnaya Volya. But if you,
dear Pyotr Lavrovich, read Mr. Tikhom irovs article attentively,
you will see yourself that the views it expresses are a huge step
backwards even compared w ith Narodnaya Volya. And this is
OU R D IFFER EN C ES
123
ite natural. The theoretical premises of Narodnaya V olyas old

program m e are so precarious and contradictory that to go on
relying on them means to go downwards. I t is to be expected that

other, progr.ssive elements of the Narodnaya Volya party
will at last raise their voices and that the revolutionary movement
within that party w ill proceed as it has always done everywhere,
i.e., front below.
But u n til that happens we shall not cease to rouse public
opinion among our revolutionaries, no matter how many attacks,
reproaches and accusations our literary activity provokes, no
matter how much we are pained by the fact that even you, dear
Pyotr Lavrovich, show dissatisfaction at that activity, you whose
approval and sympathy we still so recently seemed able to rely
upon. We engage in controversy w ith the Narodnaya Volya
supporters in the interests of their own cause, and we hope that
they will agree w ith us sooner or later. But if our sincerity is
suspected, if they see us as enemies, and not as friends, we shall
console ourselves w ith the consciousness that our cause is a just
one. Being convinced Marxists, we w ill remain true to the motto
of our teacher and go our way, letting people say what they thin k
fit.88
Geneva,
July 22, 1884
W ith friendly greetings,1

Yours respectfully,
G. PLEKHAN OV
INTRODUCTION
1. WHAT W E A R E REPROACHED WITH
W hat I said above about attacks, reproaches and accusations

was not an empty phrase. It is still quite a short time since the
Em ancipation of Labour group came into existence, and yet how
many objections we have had to listen to, the only cause for
which was an obstinate refusal to examine the substance of our
programme; how many misunderstandings have been caused only
by the desire to ascribe to us thoughts and intentions which nev
er entered our heads! By more or less veiled hints, avoiding
direct blows , not m entioning our names but using our expres
sions and tw isting and distorting our thoughts, some have direct
ly and others indirectly represented us as dried-up bookworms and
dogmatists ready to sacrifice the peoples happiness and welfare
to the orderliness and harmony of the theories which they have
hatched in their studies. And the theories themselves have been
branded as a kind of imported com m odity which it is just as
dangerous for Russia to spread there as to im port English opium
to China. The time came long ago to put an end to this confusion
of conceptions, to clear up these more or less sincere misunder
standings!
I begin w ith what is most im portant.
In the first chapter of my pamphlet I said a few words deriding
revolutionaries who are afraid of bourgeois economic progress
and who inevitably arrive at the amazing conclusion that Rus
sias economic backwardness was a most reliable ally of the
revolution and that stagnation was to be blazoned as the first
and only paragraph of our m inim um programme. I said that
the Russian anarchists, Narodniks and Blanquists could become
revolutionary in substance and not in name alone" only if
they revolutionised their own heads and learned to understand
the course of historical development and led it instead of asking
old mother history to mark time while they la id new, straighter
and better beaten roads for her .*
* Socialism and the Political Struggle, pp. 12-13 [pp. 60, 61 of this volume].
OUR D IFFE R E N C E S
125
At the end of the third chapter I endeavoured to convince

my readers that to bind together in one two so fundam entally
different matters as the overthrow of absolutism and the social
ist revolution, to wage revolutionary struggle in the belief that
these two elements of social development will coincide in the
history of our country means to put off the advent of both".*
I further expressed the thought that the rural population of
today, liv ing in backward social conditions, is not only less
capable of conscious political initiative than the industrial work
ers, it is also less responsive to the movement which our revolu
tionary intelligentsia has begun.... And besides," I continued,
the peasantry is now going through a difficult, critical period.
The previous ancestral foundations of its economy are crum bling,
the ill-fated village commune itself is being discredited in its
eyes, as is admitted oven by such ancestral organs of Narodism as
Nedelyw, and the new forms of labour and life are only in the
process of formation, and this creative process is more intensive in
the industrial centres.
From these and sim ilar passages it was concluded that my
comrades and 1, convinced that the immediate future in our
country belongs to capitalism , were ready to drive Russia's
working population into tho iron embraces of capital and con
sidered as untim ely any struggle waged by the people for their
economic emancipation.
In his article What Can We Expect from the Revolution?"
Mr. Tikhomirov, describing the curious role of public figures
whose programmes have no link w ith life , gives a particularly
detailed picture of the tragic situation of socialists who think
that in order to work out the material conditions necessary to
make the socialist system possible, Russia must necessarily go
through the phase of capitalism . Mr. Tikhomirov imagines tho
situation as sim ply desperate; in it
Not a step but leads to horror!
Our socialists have to fuss about creating a class in whose name
they wish to work, and for that they have lo desire the speedy
dismissal of the m illions of working people who exist in reality
but, having the misfortune not to be proletarians, have no role
in the scientific scheme of social progress. But the fall from grace
of these pedants of socialism cannot be confined to the sphere of
"fuss" and desires. Wer A sagt, muss auch B sagen! Mad he
been consistent and placed the interests of the revolution above
his own moral purity, the socialist should then have entered into
a direct alliance w ith the knights of primitive accumulation
* Ibid., p. 76 [p. 104 of this volume].
126
G. P LEK H A N O V
whose hearts and hands do not tremble at developing various

surplus-values and u n itin g the workers in the all-saving situa
tion of the beggarly proletarian. The revolutionary is thus trans
formed into a supporter of the exploitation of labour, and
Mr. Tikhomirov is very tim ely when he asks: Where, then, is
the difference between the socialist and the bourgeois?
I dont know just what socialists the honourable writer has
in view in this case. As we see, he has no lik in g for direct blows,
and w ithout mentioning his adversaries he merely informs the
readers that some other people thin k this or that. The reader is
completely unaware who those other people are and whether it is
true that they think what Mr. Tikhomirov says they do. Neither do
1 know whether his readers share his horror of the posit on of the
socialists whom he criticises. But the subject he touches upon is
so interesting, the accusations which he brings against certain
socialists so much resemble accusations made more than once
against us, his whole programme and what he expects from the
revolution are to such an extent determined by the negative
solution of the question of capitalism that it is his article which
must provide the occasion for as complete and comprehensive an
elucidation of this question as possible.
And so, must or must not" Russia go through the school
of capitalism?
The answer to this question is of tho highest importance for the
correct posing of our socialist partys tasks. It is therefore not
surprising that it has for a long time claimed the attention of
Russian revolutionaries. U ntil recent times the great majority
of these were inclined to answer the question categorically in the
negative. I also had my share of the general infatuation, and in
the editorial of No. 3 of Zemlya i Volya 1 attempted to prove that
history is by no means a monotonous mechanical process ; that
capitalism is a necessary predecessor of socialism only in the
West, where the village commune broke up as early as in the
struggle against medieval feudalism ; that in our country, where
the commune constitutes the most characteristic feature of the
peasantrys relations to the land , the trium ph of socialism may
be achieved in an entirely different way; collective ownership of
the land may serve as the starting-point for the organisation of
all aspects of the peoples economic life on socialist principles.
That is why, I concluded, our main task is to create a m ilitant
popular-revolutionary organisation to carry out a popular-revo
lutionary upheaval in the nearest possible future.81'
Thus, as early as January 1879, I supported the very same
proposition that Mr. Tikhomirov defends, true,
M it ein bischen anderen W orten,00
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
127
now, in 1884, when he says that beyond the mysterious line

where the waves of historys flood seethe and foam , or, to put it
more sim ply, after the fall of the present social and political
system, we shall find not the reign of capitalism , as certain peo
ple m aintain, but the foundation of the socialist organisation
of Russia. The necessity for creating a m ilita n t popular-revo
lutionary organisation is relegated to the background by Mr. Ti
khomirov and gives place to a conspiratorial organisation of our
intelligentsia which is to seize power and thus give the signal
for the popular revolution. In this respect his views differ as much
from those I formerly held as the programme of Narodnaya Volya
from that of Zemlya i Volya. But Mr. T ikhom irov-s mistakes
about tho economic side of the question are almost identical"
with those I made in the article mentioned. Consequently, in
answering Mr. Tikhomirov 1 shall have to make frequent cor
rections to arguments which once appeared to me perfectly con
vincing and final.
Precisely because Mr. Tikhom irovs standpoint is not distin
guished by freshness or novelty I cannot coniine myself to criti
cising his arguments, but must examine as fully as possible all
that had already been said to support a negative answer to the
question which now occupies us. Russian literature in the preced
ing decades gives us far more wealthy critical material than the
article W hat Can We Expect from tho Revolution?
2. POSING OF TI1E QUESTION
Actually, Mr. Tikhomirov was unable even to present thfr

question properly.
Instead of saying all that he could to defend the possibility of
laying the foundation of the socialist organisation on the ruins
of the contemporary social and political system in Russia, Mr. Ti
khomirov devotes almost a whole chapter of his article to cri
ticising the consolation" which people who believe in the histor
ical in ev itability of Russian capitalism still have. In general he
somehow too q u iik ly and unexpectedly not so much passes as
leaps from the objective standpoint he held at the beginning of
the first chapter, in which he sought to prove that the logic of
history, the historical course of events, and so on , are an ele
mental force which nobody can divert from the path it has
chosen for the very reason that the path itself is not an arbitrary
choice but expresses the resultant force of the combination of
thoso forces outside which society contains nothing real, capable
of producing any action whatever". We ask: is that elemental
force stopped by considerations of the inconsolability of the Rus
sian socialists? Obviously not. So before discussing what would
128
G. PLEK H A N O V
happen to the Russian socialists if capitalism were to trium ph,

Mr. Tikhom irov should have tried to form a correct idea of that
force and its direction , an idea which every public figure must
have, for no political programme which does not conform to it can
have any significance whatever , as tho same Mr. Tikhomirov
seeks to convince us. But he prefers the reverse method. lie endeav
ours first of all to intim idate his readers, and then, in the follow
ing chapters , outlines roughly the aims and means of our
revolution", which allow us to believe in the possibility of divert
in g the cup of capitalism from Russias lips. W ithou t saying for
the time being how far he succeeds in his attem pt to intim idate
his socialist readers, I shall merely note that such a method of
argument should not be used in solving serious social questions.
For reasons which it would be out of place to consider here, the
Russian intellectual had to take an intense interest in the role of
the in d iv id u a l in history". Much has been written on this
cursed question, and it has been still more discussed in various
groups; and yet Russian public figures are still often incapable
even of distinguishing the sphere of the necessary from that of the
desirable and are prepared at times to argue w ith history in exact
ly the same way as Khlestakov91 with the waiter in the inn. But
I must eat something! I can waste away altogether like this,
said the im m ortal Ivan Alexandrovich. W hat kind of a s cialist
w ill I be after that? Shall 1 not have to enter into a direct alli
ance w ith the knights of prim itive accumulation! some reader may
exclaim, intim idated by Mr. Tikhomirov. But it is to be hoped
that Mr. T ikhom irovs argument on tho invincible force of the
logic of history w ill do much towards correcting this b ig blunder of im m ature thought".
The Emancipation of Labour groups standpoint, for its part,
leads, it seems to me, to the removal of such abuses of the subjec
tive method in sociology. For us the desirable arises from the
necessary and in no case replaces it in our arguments. For us the
freedom of the in Jiv id u a l consists in the knowledge of the laws of
natureincluding, incidentally, the laws of historyand in the
a bility to submit to those laws, that is, incidentally, to combine
them in the most favourable manner. We are convinced that when
a society has got upon tbe right track for the discovery of the
natural laws of its m ovem ent... it can ne ther clear by bold leaps,
nor remove by legal enaclments. the obstacles offered.... But it
can shorten and lessen the birth-pangs".*112 It is precisely this
shortening and lessening the Lirth-pangs that, in our opinion,
constitutes one of the most im portant tasks of socialists who are
convinced of the historical in e vitability of capitalism in Russia.
* [Italics by Plekhanov.]
OUR D IF F E R E N C E S
129
Their consolation must lie in tho possibility of lessening those

birth-pangs. The consistency which Mr. Tikhom irov tries to
impose upon them is, as we shall see later, that of the metaphysi
cian who has not the slightest notion of the dialectics of social
development.
But let us not wander away from our subject.
3. A. I. IIERZEN
As early as the beginning of the fifties A. I. Herzen, in proving

the inevitability of the socialist revolution in the West, set
rising Russian democracy the
Ever-alarming and new question
which
since
then
So many restless heads has wearied...
So many sufferings has brought
and which provided the occasion, incidentally, for our contro

versy with the Narodnaya Volya party" too.
Must Russia pass through all the phasos of European devel
opment, or w ill her life proceed according toother laws? * he
asks in his Letters to Linton.93
1 absolutely deny the necessity for thoserepetitions, the fa
mous writer hastens to answer. We may have to pass through the
difficult and painful trials of the historical development of our
predecessors, but in the same way as the embryo passes through
all the lower degrees of zoological existence before birth. The
finished labour and the result obtained become the general pos
session of all who understandsuch is the m utual guarantee of
progress, the birthright of m ank in d .... Every schoolchild must
himself find tho solution of E u clid s theorems, but what a differ
ence there is between the work of E uclid, who discovered them,
and the work of the pupil of today! ... Russia has been through
her embryo-genesis in the European class. The n obility and the
government in our country represent the European state in the
Slav state. We have been through all the phases of political
education, from German constitutionalism and English bureau
cratic monarchy to the worship of the year 1793__ The Russian
people need not begin that hard work again. W hy should they
shed their blood to achieve those semi-solutions that we have
already reached and whose only importance was that through
them we arrived at other questions, at new strivings? We went
*
McKan;icp, CTapwii M iip
World und llussia, pp. 31-32.]
Poccnn,
cT p .
31-32. |Iskander, The Old
130
G. PLEK H A N O V
through that work for the peoplewe have paid for it w ith the
gallows, casemates and banishment, w ith the ruin and the intol
erable life which we are liv ing !
The connecting lin k , the bridge by which the Russian people
can reach socialism, Herzen saw, of course, in the village commune
and the peculiarities of way of life that go w ith it. Strictly
speaking, the Russian people began to be acknowledged, he says,
only after the 1830 Revolution. People saw w ith astonishment
that the Russians, though indifferent, incapable of tackling any
political questions, were nearer to the new social system by their
way of life than all the European peoples.... To retain the vil
lage commune and give freedom to the in d iv id u a l, to extend the
self-government of the village and volost to the towns and the
whole state, m aintaining national u n ity such is the question
of Russias future, i.e ., the question of the very antinom y whose
solution occupies and worries minds in the West."*
It is true that doubts occasionally arose in his m ind about the
Russian people's exceptional nearness to the new social system.
In the same Letter he asks Linton: Perhaps you w ill reply that
in this the Russian people resembles some Asian peoples; perhaps
you w ill draw attention to the rural communes of the Hindus,
which have a fair resemblance to ours? But, w ithout rejecting
the Russian peoples unflattering resemblance to some'!'Asian
peoples , he nevertheless saw what seemed to him very substantial
differences between them. It is not the commune ownership
system which keeps the Asian peoples in stagnation, but their
exceptional clan spirit, their in a b ility to emerge from patriarchalism, to free themselves from the tribe; we are not in such
a position. The^Slav peoples ... are endowed w ith great impres
sionability, they easily assimilate the languages, morals, customs,
art and technique of other peoples. They can acclimatise them
selves equally well on the shores of the Arctic and on the Black
Sea coast. This great impressionability", enabling the Slavs to
emerge from patriarchalism, to free themselves from the tribe",
solved the whole question, Herzen thinks. His authority was so
great, and the shortened road to socialism which he suggested was
so tem pting that the Russian intelligentsia in the early sixties was
little inclined to be sceptical of his suggested solution of the
social antinom y , and apparently gave no thought at all to the
question of just what places that historical short cut lay through
and who would lead the Russian peopleindifferent, incapa
ble of tackling any political questions"along it. The important
thing for the intelligentsia was first of all to find some philosoph
ical sanction for their radical strivings, and they were satisfied
* Ibid.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
i3 i
for a start w ith the abstract consideration that no philosophy in

the world could force them to be reconciled to bourgeois semi
solutions.
Hut that abstract consideration was naturally not sufficient to
outline a practical mode of action or to elaborate any at all suita
ble methods of fighting their environment. The data for the solu
tion of this new problem had to be sought outside the philosophy
of history, even if it were more rigorous and scientific than Her
zen's philosophy. Between its abstract formulae and the concrete
requirements of social life there was a gap which could be filled
only by a whole series of new and increasingly particular formu
lae, requiring in turn knowledge of a whole series of increasingly
complicated phenomena. By the way, philosophy in this case
indirectly rendered Russian thought the service of acquainting
it with the dialectical method and teaching it the tru th so
often forgotten later onthat in social life everything flows ,
everything changes , and that the phenomena of that life can
be understood only in m otion, in the process of arising, devel
oping and disappearing.
4. N. G. CHERNYSHEVSKY
The Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices A gainst Communal

Land Tenure was and still is the most b rillia n t attempt made in
our literature to apply dialectics to the analysis of social phenom
ena.1 We know what an enormous influence this essay hadjon
the development of our revolutionary intelligentsia. I t strength
ened their faith in the village commune by proving that this
form of land tenure could, under certain conditions, pass directly
into a communist form of development. B ut strictly speaking,
Chernyshevsky himself and his followers drew from the Criticism
of Philosophical Prejudices far more sweeping conclusions than the
character of the premises warranted. The solution which Cherny
shevsky found for the question of the communesjdestiny was in
substance purely algebraic; and it could not be otherwise, because
he opposed it to the purely algebraic formulae of his opponents.
The Russian supporters of tho Manchester School sought to prove
that communal land tenure must necessarily and everywhere be
superseded gradually by private landownership. That was the
scheme of development of property relations which they advanced.
Chernyshevsky proved, first, that this scheme did not embrace the
entire process of development, sinco at a certain stage social
ownership must again become the predominant form; moreover,
he quite legitim ately drew attention to the circumstance that
there are no grounds whatsoever for ascribing an invariable and
once-for-all determined duration to the historical interval that
9*
132
G. PLEK HA N O V
separates the epoch of prim itive communism from the time of the
conscious reorganisation of society on communist principles.
Generally speaking, this interval is x, which has a particular
arithmetical magnitude in each in div id u al country, depending
on the combination of internal and external forces determining
its historical development. As this combination of forces neces
sarily varies considerably, it is not surprising that the x in which
we are interested, i.e., the length of the interval during which pri
vate ownership w ill be predominant, will in certain cases be
infinitely small and may therefore be equalled to nought without
any considerable error. It was in this way that the abstract possi
bility of the prim itive commune passing im m ediately into
a higher, communist form was proved. But precisely because
of the abstractness of the line of argument, this general result of
philosophico-historical dialectics was equally applicable to all
countries and peoples which had retained communal land tenure,
from Russia to New Zealand, from the Serbian zadruga to one or
other of the Red Indian tribes.* That is why it proved insufficient
for even an approximate forecast of the commune's future in
each of these countries taken in divid ually . Abstract possibility
is not concrete probability, still less can it be considered as a final
argument in reference to historical necessity. In order to speak at
all seriously of the latter, algebra should have been replaced by
arithmetic and it should have been proved that in the case in
{joint, whether it bo in Russia or in the Ashanti State, in Serbia
or on Vancouver Island, x would indeed bo equal to nought,
i.e., that private property must die out when still in the embryo.
To this end statistics should have been resorted to and an apprais
al made of the inner course of development of the country or
tribe concerned and the external influences affecting them; not
the genus, but the species or even tho variety should have been
dealt with: not prim itive collective immovable property in
general, but the Russian, the Serbian or the New Zealand system
of communal land tenure in particular, taking into consideration
all the influences hostile or favourable to it, and also the state
which it had reached at the time in question owing to those
influences.
But we do not even find a hin t of such a study in the Criticism
of Philosophical Prejudices A gainst Communal Land Tenure,
in which Chernyshevsky dealt w ith philosophising sages. In
other cases, when he had to argue w ith economising sages and
to shatter prejudices arising out ol' lack of understanding, Cor*
(Note lo the 1905 edition.) A l lhat time it had not yet boon made
finally clear that the Russian village commune had nothing in common
with primitive communism. There is no longer any doubt about this.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
133
getfulness or ignorance of general truths relating to m ans mate

rial activity, to production, labour and its general laws in
those essays too he spoke only of the advantages of collective land
tenure in general, and consequently he arrived only at algebraic
formulae, general economic theorems.*
By the way, this is by 110 means surprising of him . The critic
of Mill could have in mind only the pre-Reform village commune,
when it had not yet emerged from natural economy and was reduced
to a common denominator by the levelling influence of feudalism.
Naturally, this influence did not remove the economic contradic
tions inherent in the village commune, but it kept them latent
and thus reduced their practical significance to a negligible m in i
mum. Thai is why Chernyshevsky could be satisfied with the con
sideration that in our country the masses of the people still
consider the land as the property of Ihe commune , that every
Russian has his native land and also a right lo a plot of it. And if
he himself gives up his right to that plot or loses it, his children
will still be entitled, as members of the village commune, to
demand a plot in their own right. Understanding perfectly well
that (he emancipation of the peasants would place them in
completely different economic conditions, that Russia, which has
thus far taken little part in the economic movement, is being
quickly drawn into it, and our mode of life, which has as yet
hardly been influenced by the economic laws which display
their strength only when economic and commercial activity grows,
is beginning to submit to their strength very quickly , that
soon we too, perhaps, shall be drawn inio the sphere where the
law of competition is in full operation , he was only concerned
with preserving the form of land tenure which would help the
peasant to begin the new economic life under more favourable
conditions. Whatever transformations the future may hold for
Russia, he wrote in April 1857, we shall not presume to touch
the sacred and salutary custom bequeathed to us by our past life,
Ihe poverty of which is abundantly compensated by this single
precious legacy; no, we shall not presume to encroach upon the
communal use of Ihe land, that blessing on whoso acquisition the
prosperity of Ihe agricultural classes in Western Europe now
depends. May their example be a lesson for us.
Here we are not undertaking an analysis of all Chernyshevsky's
views on communal land tenure: we are only trying to bring out.
their most typical features. Not entering into details which are
out of place here we shall confine ourselves to saying that the
advantages which he expected from communal land tenure may
*
(Note to the 1905 edition.] Cf. my article N. G. Chernyshevsky94
in No. I of the journal Sozial-Demokrat, Geneva, 1890.
134
G. P LEK H A N O V
be reduced to two points, one of which belongs to the domain of

law, the other to that of agricultural technology.
Re I. The Russian village commune system," he says quoting
llaxthausen, is infinitely im portant for Russia, especially at
present, as far as the state is concerned. A ll West European states
are suffering from the same disease, whose cure is so far an unsolved
problem*; they are suffering from pauperism, proletarianism.
Russia does not know this social evil; she is ensured against it
by her village commune system. Every Russian has his native land
and also a right to a plot of it. And if he himself gives up his
right to that plot or loses it, his children w ill still be entitled, as
members of the village commune, to demand a plot in their own
right.**
Re II. After describing, again according to Haxthausen, the
life of the Ural Cossacks, whose whole territory forms a single
commune from the economic, m ilitary and civil points of view",
Chernyshevsky notes: If the people of the Urals live under their
present system to see machines introduced into corn-growing,
they w ill be very glad of having retained a system which allows
the use of machines that require big-scale farm ing embracing
hundreds of dessiatines. He notes at the same time, however,
that his argument is intended only as an example of how the
Ural Cossacks w ill th in k at some future time which w ill come we
know not when (although the success of mechanics and technology
shows beyond any doubt that such a time w ill indeed come)and
we are not concerned w ith too distant a future: our great grand
children w ill probably manage to live on by their own intelli
gence w ithout our worrying about them it w ill be enough for us
to worry about ourselves and our children.98
Readers who are acquainted w ith Chernyshevsky's works natu
rally know that such reservations did not prevent him from think
ing and worrying very much about the future. One of Vera
Pavlovna's dreams shows clearly how he imagined the social re
lations of lhe very distant future,87 just as his heroines practi
cal activity gives us some idea of the methods by which the advent
of that happy lim e could be hastened. It would therefore be
strange if the author of What la To Be Done? had not linked the
form of contemporary peasant land tenure which was so dear to
him with the ideals of a future, which, distant as it was, was de
sirable and, indeed, inevitable. True enough, he returns time and
again to this subject in his articles on communal land tenuie,
exam ining the influence this form of property relations has had
* My italics.
* * MepHumeBCKHii, CoiBBeHnfl, t. V, JKeneBa, 1879. 06 o6mnHH0M
BJianeHwi aeM/ieib, cTp. 135. [Chernyshevsky, Works, Vol. V, Geneva, 1879.

On Communal Land Tenure, p. 135.]
OU R D IFFEREN CES
135
on the peasants' character and customs. He naturally does not

agree that the village commune kills energy in man. That thought
definitely contradicts all known historical and psychologi
cal facts , which prove, on the contrary, that man's intelligence
and w ill are strengthened by association. But the chief advantage
of communal land tenure is that it preserves and develops the
spirit of association w ithout which the rational economy of the
future is unthinkable. The introduction of a better order of things
is greatly hindered in Western Europe by the boundless extension
of the rights of the in d iv id u a l... it is not easy to renounce even
a negligible portion of what one is used to enjoying, and in the
West the individual is used to unlim ited private rights. Tho
usefulness and necessity of m utual concessions can be learned only
by bitter experience and prolonged thought. In the West, a better
system of economic relations is bound up w ith sacrifices, and that
is why it is difficult to establish. It runs counter to the habits of
tho English and French peasants. But what seems a utopia in
one country exists as a fact in another ... habits which the English
man and the Frenchman find immensely difficult lo introduce into
their national life exist in fact in the national life of the Rus
sians.... The order of things for which tho West is now striving by
such a difficult and long road still exists in our country in the
mighty national customs of our village life.... We see what deplor
able consequences resulted in the West from the loss of commu
nal land tenure and how difficult it is to give back to the Western
peoples what they have lost. The example of the West must not be
lost on us.*
That is how Chernyshevsky appraises the significance of com
munal land tenure in the present and future economic life of the
Russian people. Much as we respect this great writer, we cannot
help seeing in his appraisal certain mistakes and instances of onesidedness. For example, the cure of the West European states
from tho ulcer of proletarianism could hardly be considered as
an unsolved problem at the end of the fifties, many years after
the appearance of the Manifesto of the Communist Party, The
Poverty of Philosophy and The Condition of the Working Class in
England. Not only the cure, but also the whole historical signifi
cance of the illness which frightened Chernyshevsky were shown
in the works of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels w ith a complete
ness and power of conviction lhat are still models. But everything
shows that the Russian economist was not fam iliar w ith these
works, while the socialist utopias of the preceding period failed,
of course, to provide a satisfactory solution for many, very many,
theoretical and practical questions. The main shortcoming in
Works, Vol. V , pp.
16-19.
136
G. PLEK HAN OV
the U t o p i a n s outlook was, however, due to the fact that the

proletariat ... offers to them the spectacle of a class without any
historical initiative or any independent political movement, that
they had not yet adopted ihe standpoint of the class struggle and
that the proletariat existed for them only in view of its being the
most suffering class.* Replacing tho gradual, spontaneous class
organisation of the proletariat" by an organisation of society
specially contrived by themselves and at the same lime differing
among themselves as to the principles and character of this fu
ture organisalion, they naturally led their Russian readers to the
idea that even the most progressive minds in the West had not
yet been able to cope with the social question. Moreover, reducing
the future history of the world to the dissemination and practi
cal implementation of lheir reform plans, they could nol satisfy
by their teachings a man with such a vigorously critical mind as
Chernyshevsky. He was bound to seek independently the real
historical conditions for the emancipation of the W'esl European
working class, and he apparently saw them in a return to commu
nal land tenure. We already know that he held that on the acqui
sition of this blessing the prosperity of the agricultural classes in
Western Europe now depends. But no matter what attitude
anybody adopted towards the historical significance of the Hus
sion village commune, it is obvious to almost all socialists that
its role is ended for ever in the West and that the Western peo
ples road to socialism lay and still lies from commune through pri
vate ownership, and not vice versa, from private ownership through
commune ownership. It seems to me that if Chernyshevsky
had been clearer to himself on the subject of this difficult and
long road along which the West is progressing towards a better
system of economic relations ; if, moreover, he had defined more
precisely the economic conditions of the better system , he would
have seen, first, that the West tends to make the means of
production the property of the state, not of a village commune,
and second, he would have understood that the ulcer of proletarianism produces its remedy out of itself. Then he would have
belter appreciated the historical role of the proletariat, and this,
in turn, would have enabled him to take a broader view of the
social and political significance of Ihe Russian village commune.
Let us explain this.
We know that any form of social relations can be considered
from extremely varying points of view. For example, from the
point of view of the benefits it brings to the generation concerned;
or, not confining ourselves to these benefits, we can examine its
capacity to pass on into another, higher form, more favourable
* Manifesto of the Communist Party, pp. 36-37.*8
OUR D IFFEREN CES
137
to the economic prosperity and the intellectual and moral develop

ment of the people; finally, we can distinguish in that very capac
ity to pass on into higher forms two sides the passive and the
active side, the absence of obstacles to the transition, and the presence
of a vital inner force which is not only capable of effecting this
transition but,indeed, gives rise to it as to a necessary consequence
of its own existence. In the former case, the social form in question
is considered from the point of view of the resistance offered lo
progress introduced from outside, in the latter, from the point of
view of useful historical work. For the philosophy of history, just
as for the practical revolutionary, the only forms which have any
importance are those which are capable of a greater or lesser
quantity of such useful work. Every stage in the historical devel
opment of hum anity is interesting precisely insofar as the soci
eties which have reached it develop out of themselves, by their
inherent self-activity, a force capable of destroying the old forms
of social relations and erecting on their ruins a new and better
social edifice. Generally speaking, the very number of the obsta
cles to the transition to a higher stage of development is closely
linked with the magnitude of this vital force, because the latter
is nothing but the result of the disintegration of the old forms of
social life. The more intense the process of disintegration, the
greater will be the number of forces which it sets free and the
lesser will be the endurance of the obsolete social relations. In
other words, both the historian and the practical revolutionary
are interested in the dynamics, not the statics, the revolutionary,
not the conservative aspect, the contradictions, not the harmony
of social relations, because it is the spirit of these contradictions
which
Slets das Bose w ill und stets das Gute schafft. "
So it has been up lo now. It goes without saying that it must
not always be so and that the whole meaning of the socialist
revolution consists in removing the cruel iron law according
to which the contradictions in social relationships were given but
a temporary solution which in turn became the source of new
confusion and new contradictions. Hut the accomplishment of
this greatest of all upheavals, of this revolution which is at last
to make people the masters of their social relations,1(111 is u n th ink
able without the presence of the necessary and sufficient histor
ical force born of the contradict ions in the present bourgeois
system. In the advanced countries of the civilised world today
this force, far from being merely present, is growing every hour
and every minute. Consequently, in those countries history is the
ally of the socialists and is bringing them with ever-increasing
speed nearer to the aim they pursue. Thus we see once more
138
G. PLEK HAN OV
lot us hope for Ihe last tim e that the sweet could only come out
of Ihe bitter, that for the accomplishment of a good deed"
history was obliged, if we may say so, to show evil w ill. The
economy of bourgeois societies, which is utterly abnormal and
unjust as regards distribution, turns out to be far more normal
as regards the development of the productive forces and still
more normal as regards the production of people who are willing
and able, in the words of the poet, to establish the kingdom of
heaven upon earth.101 Not only has the bourgeoisie forged the
weapons that bring death to itself, i.e., not only has it brought the
productive forces in the advanced countries to a stage of develop
ment at which they can no longer be reconciled w ith the capital
ist form of production, it has also called into existence the men
who are to wield those weapons the modern working class
the proletarians".*
From this it follows that in order to assess to the fu ll the polit
ical significance of a given social form, one must take into con
sideration not only the economic benefits which it may bring to
one or several generations, not only its passive a bility to be per
fected under the influence of some favourable outside force, but
prim arily its inherent capacity to develop independently in the
desirable direction. W itho u t such a comprehensive appraisal, the
analysis of social relations w ill always be incomplete and there
fore erroneous; a given social form may appear to be quite ration
al from one of the points of view, but quite unsatisfactory from
another. This w ill be the case every time we have to deal w ith an
underdeveloped population which has not yet become the master
of its social relations . O nly the objective revolutionariness of
these relations themselves can bring backward people out on to
the road of progress. And if the particular form of social life
does not display this revolutionariness, if, though it is more or
less just from the standpoint of law and distribution of products,
it is nevertheless marked by great conservatism, the absence of
any inner striving to perfect itself in the desirable direction, the
social reformer w ill have either to give up his plans or to resort
to some other, outside, force able to compensate for the lack of
inner self-activity in the society in question and to reform it, if
not against the w ill of its members, at any rate w ithout their
active and conscious participation.
As for Chernyshevsky, he seems to have lost sight of the revo
lutionary significance of the West European illness pauperism.
It is by no means surprising that Haxthausen, for example, of
whom Chernyshevsky so often had occasion to speak in his arti
cles on communal land tenure, saw only the negative side of
OUH D IFFEREN CES
139
pauperism-proletarianism. His political views were such that

he was absolutely unable to class the revolutionary significance
of the proletariat in the history of West European societies among
the positive and favourable aspects of this ulcer". It is therefore
understandable that he gave an enthusiastic description of the
institutions which can avert proletarianism". Hut views which
are quite comprehensible and consistent in the works of one
author often face the reader w ith difficulties when he comes across
tlicm in another authors articles. We adm it that we do not under
stand what meaning wo must see in these words of Chernyshevsky
about Haxthausen: As a practical man, he very correctly foresaw
in 1847 the proxim ity of a fearful outbreak on the. part of the
West European proletarians, and we cannot but agree w ith him
that the principle of communal land tenure, which safeguards us
against the fearful ulcer of proletarianism among the rural popu
lation, is a beneficial one.*103 Here it is no longer a question of
the economic hardships of the proletariat, which, incidentally, in
no way exceed those of the Russian peasantry; nor is it a question
of the Russian peasants social habits, against which the West
European industrial worker can at any rate counter his habit of
collective labour and all kinds of associations. No, here it is
a question of a fearful outbreak on the part, of the ... proletari
ans", and even in this respect Chernyshevsky considers the princi
ple of communal land tenure, which safeguards us against the
fearful ulcer of proletarianism , a beneficial" one. One cannot
imagine that the father of Russian socialism adopted the same
terrified attitude to the political movements of the working class
as Haron von Haxthausen. One cannot imagine lhat he was terri
fied by tho very fact of the proletariats revolt. One can only pre
sume that, he was perplexed by the defeat of the working class in
1848, that his sympathy w ith tho political movements of the
working class was poisoned by the thought that political revolu
tions were without result and that the bourgeois regime was barren.
Such an explanation seems at least probable if not certain when
we read some pages of his article The Struggle of the Parties in
France under Louis X V I I I and Charles X " ,ln3 those pages, to be
precise, where he explains the distinction between the aspirations
of tho democrats and those of the liberals. The liberals and tho
democrats have essentially different fundamental desires and
basic motives," he says. The democrats intend to destroy as far
as possible the dom ination of the upper classes over the lower
ones in the state structure: on the one hand, to reduce the power
and wealth of the upper estates, and on the other, to give more
weight and prosperity to the lower ones. I t hardly makes any
Works, Vol. V, p. 400.
140
G. PLEK HAN OV
difference to them* how the laws could be changed in this sense

and the new structure of society upheld. The liberals, on the
contrary, w ill never agree to give the upper hand in society to
the lower estates, because these, owing to their lack of education
and their material poverty, are indifferent to those interests
which are of supreme importance for the liberal party, namely,
the right to freedom of speech and the right to a constitutional system.
For the democrat our Siberia, where common folk enjoy prosperity,
is far superior to England, where the majority of the people suffer
dire need. The democrat is irreconcilably hostile only to one polit
ical in stitu tio n the aristocracy; the liberal nearly always holds
that society can attain a liberal system only w ith a certain meas
ure of aristocracy. That is why the liberals have a mortal haired
of the democrats ... liberalism understands freedom in a very
narrow, purely formal manner. For it freedom consists in an ab
stract right, authorisation 011 paper, the absence of legal prohibi
tion. Liberalism refuses to understand that legal authorisation is of
any worth only to those who have lhe material means to avail
themselves of it. Neither you nor I, dear reader, are forbidden to
eat out of a gold dinner set, but unfortunately neither you nor
I have or w ill probably ever have the means of satisfying that
fanciful idea. For that reason I say frankly that I do not appreci
ate in the least my right to have a gold dinner set and am ready
to sell it for a silver ruble or even cheaper. The same, as far as the
people are concerned, with a ll the rights that the liberals fuss about.
The people are ignorant and in nearly all countries the majority
of them are illiterate; not having the money to gel education
themselves or to give their children any, how can they come lo
treasure Iheir right to free speech? Need and ignorance deprive
the people of all possibility of understanding slate affairs or of
taking part in them; tell me then, w ill they treasure the right to
parliamentary debate, can they avail themselves of iI ?
There
is not a single country in Europe where the overwhelming majority
of lhe population are not completely indifferent to rights which
are the object of the desires and efforts of the liberals. That is why
liberalism is condemned to impotence everywhere: argue as you
like, only those strivings are powerful, only those institutions
lasting, which are supported by the popular masses.**104
Hardly ten years had elapsed since the publication of the arti
cle by Chernyshevsky just quoted when the European proletariat
declared through its foremost representatives that it saw its
political movement as the means of attaining its great economic
* The italics in these extracts are mine.
* The Struggle of the Parties in France under Louis X V III and
Charles X , Russian Social-Democratic Library, Vol. I l l , pp. 5-8.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
141
aim and lhat the social emancipation of the working class is

unthinkable without its political emancipation. The necessity
for the working class constantly to extend its political rights and
finally to achieve political domination was acknowledged by the
International W orking Mens Association. To conquer political
power has therefore become the great duty of the working classes,"
said I he first Manifesto of lhat Association.105 It goes without
saying lhat the working population of England is nearer to and
more capable of political m ight than the common folk of Siberia,
and if only for that reason nobody but the Proudhonisls would
have said in the sixties lhat Siberia is superior to England.
Bui even when Chernyshevsky wrote his article, i.e., at the end
of the fifties, il was noticeable that among the ignorant and
illiterate people of nearly all West European countries there
was a whole stratum once more the same proletariatwhich did
not enjoy Ihe right of free speech and the right of parliamentary
do bale by no means because il was indifferent to them, bill because
of the reaction lhat reigned throughout Europe afler 1848 and
whose concern was prim arily lo prevent the people from achieving
these abstract rights. Beaten, so lo speak, all along the line,
stunned by the blows of reaction, disappointed in its radical and
democratic allies in Ihe bourgeois parties, it had indeed fallen
into something like a temporary lethargy and showed litlle inter
est in social questions. But so far as it was interested in them it
did not cease to see the acquisition of political rights and their
rational utilisation as a powerful means of its emancipation. Even
many of the socialist sects which had formerly been complete
ly indifferent to politics began lo show a great interest in il
precisely in Ihe early fifties. In Prance, for instance, the Fourierisls joined Rittinghausen and preached with great energy the
principle of direct popular legislation. As for Germany, neither
the democrat Johann Jacobi and his followers nor the Com
munists of Marx and Engels school would have said that for
them il makes hardly any difference how the laws could be
changed in (he sense of decreasing the power and the wealth of
Ihe upper estates and ensuring the prosperity of the lower classes.
They had a well-defined political programme, irreconcilably
hostile" by no means to Ihe aristocracy alone".
The West European peasantry was indeed often indifferent to
all abstract rights and was prepared perhaps occasionally to
prefer the Siberian system to the English. Bui the point is that
true, i.e., not bourgeois, but socialist, democrats appeal not lo
Ihe peasants, but lo the proletariat. The West European peasant,
being a property-owner, is classed by them among the intermedi
ate strata" of Ihe population, strata which, if by chance they
are revolutionary, they are so only in view of their impending
142
G. PLEK HA N O V
transfer into the proletariat, they thus defend not their present,
but their future interests, they desert their own standpoint to place
themselves at that of the p r o l e t a r i a t This distinction is a very
substantial one. The West European democrats did not emerge
from the barren held of political metaphysics u n til they learned
to analyse the concept people and to distinguish the revolu
tionary section of it from the conservative.
To make his study of communal land tenure complete, Cherny
shevsky should have considered the matter from this lastsocialpolitical point of view. lie should have shown that communal
land tenure can not only preserve us from the ulcer of proletarianism , that it not only offers many advantages for the develop
ment of agricultural technology (i.e., for machine cultivation of
large tracts of land), but that it can also create in Russia just as
active, receptive and impressionable, just as energetic and revo
lutionary a population as the West European proletarians. But
he was prevented from doing so by his considering the people
in nearly all countries of Western Europe as an ignorant and
in the m ajority of cases illiterate" mass, indifferent to abstract
political rights. His lack of depth in understanding the political
role of the West European proletariat made it impossible for him
to suggest a comparison w ith the political future of the Russian
peasants in the village commune. The passivity and political
indifference of the Russian peasant could not embarrass one who
expected no great independent political action from the working
class in the West. This circumstance provides one reason why
Chernyshevsky lim ited his study of communal land tenure to
considerat ions in the sphere of law, tho distribution of the products
and agronomics, and did not set the question of the political in
fluence of the village commune on the state and of the stale on the
village commune.
This question remained unelucidated. As a result, the question
of the method of transition from communal land tenure to com
m unal cultivation andwhat is the chief th in g to the final tri
um ph of socialism, was not elucidated either. How w ill the village
commune of today pass over into a communist commune or be
dissolved in a communist state? How can the revolutionary intel
ligentsia promote 1his? What Is To Be Done by this intelligentsia?
Must they support communal land tenure and conduct communist
propaganda, establish production associations sim ilar to Vera
Pavlovnas sewing shops in the hope that in time both these shops
and the village communes w ill understand the advantages of the
socialist system and set about introducing it? Let us suppose so,
*
See Manifesto of the Communist Party, p. 14 of my translation.10
[Italics by Plekhanov.J
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
but this w ill take a long time, and what guarantee is there that it
will always go straight and smoothly, that there w ill be no un
foreseen obstacles or unexpected turns? And what if the govern
ment takes measures against socialist propaganda, prohibits the
associations, places their members under police surveillance or
exiles them? Must we struggle against the government and win
freedom of speech, assembly and association? But then we shall
have to admit that Siberia is not superior to England, that the
abstract rights which the liberals make a fuss about are a nec
essary condition for the peoples development; in a word, that
we must start the political struggle. But can we count on a fa
vourable outcome of that struggle, can we win political freedom of
any duration? For, argue as you like, only those strivings are
powerful, only those institutions lasting, which are supported
by the popular masses", and in Russia, if not in other countries,
those masses attach no importance to the right of free speech
and understand absolutely nothing about the right of parliamen
tary debate. If it is for that very reason that liberalism is con
demned to impotence , where w ill the socialists get their strenglh
from when they begin the struggle for the rights which are the
objects of the desires and efforts of the liberals? How can this
difficulty be overcome? By adding concrete demands for economic
reforms to the abstract rights of political freedom contained in
their programme? But the people must be acquainted w ith that
programme, i.e., we must conduct propaganda, and in doing so
we again come up against government persecution, which again
drives us on to the path of political struggle, which is hopeless as
a result of the people's indifference, etc., etc.
On the other hand, it is very probable that if the people of
the Urals live under their present system to see machines intro
duced into corn-growing, they w ill be very glad of having retained
a system which allows the use of machines lhat require big-scale
farming embracing hundreds of dessiatines. It is also highly
probable that those peasant associations also w ill be glad
which "survive under their present system u n til the introduction
of agricultural machines. W ell, what w ill those agriculturists
be glad about who da not survive under their present system?
What will the rural proletarians be glad about who have had to
hire themselves as labourers to members of the village commune?
The latter will contrive to carry the exploitation of labour power
to the same degree of intensity as in private farms. Thus the
Russian people w ill divide into two classes: exploiters the
communes, and exploited the individuals. W hat w ill be the
fate awaiting this new caste of pariahs? The West European
proletarians, whose ranks are constantly swelling thanks to the
concentration of capital, can flatter themselves w ith Ihe hope
144
G. PLEK HAN OV
that, slaves today, they w ill be independent and happy workers

tomorrow. Is the same consolation available for the Russian pro
letarians, whose numerical increase w ill be retarded by the exist
ence of communal land tenure? Must they not expect hopeless
slavery, a stern struggle
Without triumph, without reconciliation?
Whose side w ill our socialist intelligentsia have to take in that
struggle? If they support the proletariat, will they not have to
burn everything they had adored and reject the commune as
a stronghold of petty-bourgeois exploitation?
If such questions did not occur to Chernyshevsky, who wrote
about communal land tenure before serfdom was abolished and
could hope that the development of the rural proletariat would be
made impossible by some legislative measures or others, all or
nearly all those questions should inevitably have occurred to our
revolutionaries of the seventies, who knew the nature of the notor
ious Reform of February 19. Difficult as it is to imagine laws
which would safeguard the village commune from disintegration
without at the same time imposing the most insufferable re
straint on the whole course of our industrial life; difficult as it is
lo combine collectivism of peasant land tenure w ith money econ
omy nnd commodity production of all products, not excluding
the agricultural products of the communes themselves, all this
could still have been spoken and argued about before 1861. But
the peasant reform should have given such arguments and talk
a perfectly definite background. In their excursions into the more
or less problematic future our revolutionaries should have pro
ceeded from the indisputable facts of the present. And that present
already had very little in common with the old picture of peasant
life as Ilaxtliausen and Chernyshevsky knew it before the Reform.
The Act of February 19 knocked the village commune out of the
stable equilibrium of natural economy and subjected it lo all
the laws of commodity production and capitalist accumulation.
The redemption of peasant lands was bound, as we shall see later,
to lake place on a basis hostile to the principle of communal land
tenure. Moreover, although our legislation retained the commune
in the interests of the fiscal system, it gave two-thirds of the
householders the right to divide the communal lands once and for
all into plots attached to the houses. Reallotments were also
hindered and. lo cap it all, a burden of taxes and dues completely
out of proportion to the paying capacity of the free agricultur
ists was imposed upon them. A ll the peasants protests against
the new serfdom were suppressed with rods and bayonets, and
the new Russia was seized with a fever of money speculation.
Railways, banks and stock companies shot up like mushrooms.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
145
Churnyshevskys prophecy quoted above about the considerable

economic transformations awaiting Russia came true before that
great teacher of youth had time to reach his place of exile. Alexan
der 11 was the tsar of the bourgeoisie just as Nicholas was the
tsar of the soldiers and nobility.
Our revolutionary youth should have taken these irrefutable
facts into account when they set out to go among the people
to conduct social-revolutionary propaganda in the early seven
ties. Now it was no longer a question of emancipating the land
lords peasants from serfdom, but of emancipating tho whole
working population of Russia from all kinds of exploitation; it
was no longer a question of a peasant reform, but of establishing
a peasant brotherhood in which there would be neither-mine nor
thine, neither profit nor oppression, but work for the common good
and brotherly help among all.* 107 To found such a peasant broth
erhood an appeal had to be made no longer to the government,
to the Editorial Commission, or even to society, but to the
peasants themselves. In undertaking the emancipation of the
working people which was to be the business of the working peo
ple themselves it was necessary to study, determine and point out
with greater precision the revolutionary factors in the life of the
people; to do this, tho abstract, algebraic formulae worked out
by the progressive literature of the preceding decades had to be
translated into the language of arithmetic and the conclusions
had to be drawn from the positive and negative influences of
Russian life on the sum-total of which the course and the outcome
of the emancipation depended. And as our youth already knew
from Chernyshevskys articles that the masses of the people still
consider the land as the property of the commune, and the quantity
of land owTried by the communes ... is so large lhat the mass of
Ihe plots sel aside from it as absolute property of private in divid
uals is negligible in comparison w ith it , it was w ith commu
nal land tenure that the study of the revolutionary factors in
Russian life should have begun.
How did the contradictory rulings of the Act of February 19
affect the village commune? Is the latter firm enough to fight the
conditions of money economy, which are unfavourable to it? Has
not the development of our peasant life already stepped on to the
road of the natural law of its movement from which neither the
rigour of laws nor the propaganda of the intelligentsia w ill be
able to divert it? If not, if our commune can still assimilate the
socialist ideals without any great difficulty, then this passive
business of assimilation must be accompanied by an energetic
*
Soe XnTpa MPxnuKa, ii3fl. 1877,
1877, pp. 47-48.]
1001329
CTp.
47-48, [Ingenious Mechanism,
146
G. PLEK H A N O V
act of implementation which requires struggle against many

obstacles; w ill the conditions under which our peasants live
promote the development among them of that active energy
without which all their socialist predispositions would remain
useless?
j ]'
The various groups in our movement solved these questions in
various ways. The m ajority of revolutionaries were prepared to
agree w ith Ilerzen that the Russian people was indifferent,
incapable of politics. B ut the propensity to idealise tho people
was so great, the interconnection between the various aspects of
social life was so poorly elucidated in the minds of our socialists,
that this in ab ility to deal w ith any political questions was regard
ed as a guarantee, so to speak, against bourgeois semi-solutions"
and a proof, as it were, of the peoples great a b ility to solve
economic questions correctly. Interest in and capacity for politics
were considered necessary only for political revolutions, which
our socialist literature of the time contrasted to social revolutions
as the principle of evil to the principle of good, as bourgeois
deception to the fu ll equivalent of the blood shed and the losses
suffered by the people. An interest in social questions corresponded,
in the conception we had then, to the social revolution, and
the peasants complaints about land poverty and taxation bur
dens were seen as such an interest. From lhe peoples understand
ing of its immediate needs to the understanding of the tasks of
working-class socialism , from bitter allusions to those needs to
the socialist revolution seemed no long road and one that lay,
again, through the village commune, which we considered as
a solid rock against which all the waves of the economic movement
had been shattered.
But as a single point does not determine the position of a line
in a plane, so the land commune, which all our socialists agreed
in idealising, did not determine agreement between their pro
grammes. A il felt that there was much in the commune itself and
in its members outlook and habits that was partly unfinished and
unpolished and partly oven directly contrary to socialist ideals.
It was the way of removing these defects that proved to be the
apple of discord for our groups.
In this respect, too, however, there was a feature that can be
considered as common to all our revolutionary trends.
This feature common to them all was faith in the possibility
of our revolutionary intelligentsia having a powerful and decisive
influence on the people. In our revolutionary calculations the
intelligentsia played the role of a beneficent providence of the
Russian people, a providence upon whose w ill it depended whether
the wheel of history would turn one way or the other. However
any of the revolutionaries explained tho contemporary enslave
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
147
ment of the Russian peopleby the peoples lack of understanding,

of solidarity or of revolutionary energy, or finally by their com
plete incapacity for political initiative each one nevertheless
thought that intervention by the intelligentsia would remove
what he indicated as the cause of the peoples enslavement. The
propagandists felt sure that they would have no difficulty in
teaching the peasants the truths of scientific socialism. The rebels
demanded the immediate formation of fighting organisations
among the people, not im agining there could be any serious
obstacles to this. Finally, the supporters of Nabat- presumed that
our revolutionaries only had to seize power and the people would
immediately assimilate the socialist forms of social life. This
self-assurance of the intelligentsia got along together with utter
idealisation of the people and the conviction at least as far as
the majority of our revolutionaries were concerned that the
emancipation of the working people must be conquered by the
working people themselves". This formula, it was assumed, would
be applied in a perfectly correct manner once our intelligentsia
took the people as an object of its revolutionary influence. The fact
that this basic principle of the General Rules of the International
Working Mens Association had another, so to speak philosophico-historical meaning, that the emancipation of a definite class
can be its own affair only when an independent emancipation
movement arises w ithin that class a ll this partly did not occur
at all to our intelligentsia, or partly conception of it was a very
strange one. For example, as a proof that our people had begun
without the help of the intelligentsia to understand the condi
tions for their true emancipation, they pointed to the peoples
dissatisfaction over the 1861 Reform. Tho people s capacity for
independent revolutionary movement was usually proved by
reference to our peasant wars the R azin and Pugachov rebel
lions.
Bitter experience soon showed our revolutionaries that it was
a far cry from complaints about land poverty to the development
of a definite class consciousness and that it was wrong to conclude
from revolts that took place one or two hundred years before
that the people was ready to revolt at the moment in question.
The history of our revolutionary movement in the seventies was
one of disappointments in programmes" which had seemed per
fectly practical and infallible.
But at present we are interested in the history of revolutionary
ideas, not of revolutionary attempts. W hat is needed for our
purpose is to sum up all the social and political outlooks w'e
have inherited from preceding decades.
Let us therefore see what each of the principal groups in the
seventies left us in this respect.
10'
148
G. PLEK H A N O V
The most instructive for us w ill be the theories of M. A. Bakunin

and P. N. Tkachov. The programme of the so-called propagandists,
which reduced the entire further history of Russia down to the
revolution to the spreading of socialist ideas, was too obviously
tainted w ith idealism. They recommended propaganda to the
Russian socialists in exactly the same way as they would have
recommended it, should the case have arisen, to the Polish,
Serbian, Turkish or Persian socialists in a word, to the social
ists of any country deprived of the possibility of organising the
workers in an open political party. Herzens comparison quoted
above of the fate of Euclid's theorems with the probable history
of socialist ideas provides a typical example of their arguments
in favour of their programme. They understood this comparison
in itself quite a risky one in the abstract and one-sided sense
that once social and political ideas have been worked out no more
is needed for their assimilation than the subjective logic of people,
even if it is not supported by the objective logic of social rela
tionships. They made few mistakes in analysing social relation
ships in Russia for the simple reason that they hardly undertook
any such analysis.
5. M. A. BAKUNIN
That was no B ak u n in s way of reasoning. He understood that

the revolutionary intelligentsia could influence the people
only if certain historical conditions were to hand, only if there
was among the people a more or less conscious desire for a social
ist upheaval. That is why he proceeded from a comparison be
tween the ideals of the people and the ideals of our intelligen
tsia, naturally of the anarchist trend.
In his opinion, the two elements which can be indicated as the
necessary conditions for the social revolution are present on the
widest scale in the Russian people. It can boast of its extraordi
nary poverty and also of its exemplary (sic) enslavement. Its
sufferings are countless and it bears them not patiently but with
a profound and passionate despair which has already been ex
pressed twice in history by two fearful outbreaks: the rebellion of
Stenka R azin and the Pugachov rebellion, and which incessantly
manifests itself to the present day by an uninterrupted series
of peasant rebellions.* 11 is not the lack of a common ideal, an
ideal capable of comprehending a popular revolution and provid
ing it with a definite aim , which prevents the people from car
rying out a victorious revolution. If there were no such ideal,
if it had not developed in the consciousness of the people, at
least in its main lines, one would have to renounce all hope of
* Statehood and Anarchy, Note A, p. 7.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
149
a Russian revolution, because such an ideal is brought forth from

the very depths of the peoples life, is necessarily the result of
their historical trials, strivings, sufferings, protests and struggle,
and at the same time it is in a way a figurative, understandable
and always simple expression of their real demands and hopes ...
if the people do not develop this ideal out of themselves, nobody
will be able to give it to them . B ut there is no doubt that such
an ideal exists in the imagination of the Russian peasantry, and
there is not even any necessity to delve too deep into the histori
cal consciousness of our people to determine its main features.
The author of Statehood and Anarchy counts six main features
of the Russian people's ideal: three good ones and three bad ones.
Let us examine this classification more closely, for B akunins
outlook has left its im print on tho views of many of those among
our socialists who were never his followers or were even his oppo
nents.
The first and main feature is the conviction of the whole people
that the land, all the land, belongs to the people who water
it with their sweat and fertilise it w ith their labour. The second,
just as great, feature is that the right to make use of it belongs
not to the individual, but to the whole village commune, m ir,
which divides it temporarily among individuals; tho third feature
is of equal importance to the first two; it is the quasi-absolute
autonomy, the self-government of the village commune, and the
commune's consequent resolute hostility to the state.
Those are the three m ain features underlying the ideal of the
Russian people. In their substance they fully correspond to the
ideal which is developing in recent times in the consciousness
of the proletariat in the Latin countries, which arc incomparably
nearer to the social revolution than the German countries. How
ever, the ideal of the Russian people is darkened by three other
features which distort its character and extremely (nota bene)
hinder and retard its realisation__ These three darkening features
are: 1) patriarchalism, 2) the absorption of the individual by mir,
3) faith in the tsar.... As a fourth feature we could add the Christian
faith, official orthodox or sectarian, but ... here in Russia this
question is of far less importance than in Western Europe. *
It is against these negative features of the peoples ideal that
Russian revolutionaries must fight with all their strength",
and this fight is all the more possible as it is already going on
among the people themselves.
The confidence that the people themselves have already taken
up the fight against the nogative features" of their ideal formed
a very characteristic feature of the entire programme of the
Ibid., Note A, p. 10.
150
G. PLEK H A N O V
Russian Bakuninists. It was the straw at which they clutched

to save themselves from the logical conclusions from their own
premises and from the conclusions of B akunins analysis of the
peoples ideal. No individ ual, no society, no people, can be given
what does not already exist in itself, not only in the embryo, but
even at a certain stage of development, we read in Note A, which
we have already quoted so often. To remain consistent, the Rus
sian Bakuninist should have renounced a ll hope of a Russian
revolution if the people had not noticed the darkening features
of their ideal and if their dissatisfaction at these features had not
already attained a certain stage of development. It is therefore
comprehensible Lhat it was in this direction that all the dialectic
power of the founder of Russian rebellion had to be directed.
It must be noted, besides, that on this point Bakunin was not
far from a perfectly correct formulation of the question of the so
cial-revolutionary movements chances in Russia or from a serious,
critical attitude to the character and ideals of our people. It
was precisely this kind of critical attitude that was lacking in
Russian public figures. Herzen was amazed in his time at the
absence of any at all definite and generally accepted characteristic
of the Russian people. Some speak only of the omnipotence of the
tsar, of governmental tyranny, and of tho slavish spirit of the
subjects; others m aintain, on the contrary, that Petersburg
imperialism is not of the people, that the people, crushed under
the double despotism of the government and the landlords, bear
the yoke, but are not reconciled to it. that they are not annihilat
ed, but only wretched, and at the same time they say that these
same people give unity and strength to the colossal empire which
oppresses them. Some add that the Russian people are a despicable
mob of drunkards and knaves; others affirm that Russia is inhab
ited by a capable and richly gifted race. *
Thirty years have passed since the lines that I quote were first
written, and yet to this very day not only the foreigners whom
Herzen had in mind but even Russian public figures support
diametrically opposite views on the character and ideals of the
Russian people. Of course there is nothing surprising in every
party being prone to exaggerate peoples sympathy for its own
strivings. But neither in France, Germany nor any other Western
country does one find the contradiction in views about the peas
antry which amazes us in Russia. This contradiction occasionally
leads to most amusing misunderstandings. The difference in the
political and social outlooks of people belonging to the most
opposite trends is often determined only by a difference in the
conception of the ideals of the people. Mr. Katkov and Mr. Aksa
* The Russian People and Soclaltcm,los London, 1858, pp. 7-8.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
151
kov, for example, would agree with Mr. Tikhomirov that a polit
ical programme ... must take the people as they are, and only
in that case w ill it be capable of influencing their life". The editor
of Rus, on the other hand, could accept that out of 100 m illion
inhabitants in our country there are 800,000 workers united
by capital, as Mr. Tikhomirov states in his article "W hat Can We
Expect from the R e v o l u t i o n but the editor of Moskavskiye Vedomosti would perhaps consider that estimate too low and point
out many more inaccuracies in Mr. Tikhom irovs statist ical calcu
lations.10 Nevertheless, both of them would be only too eager
to subscribe to tho opinion that Russia is an agricultural country
and that the results of the analysis of social relationships
made ... in the capitalist countries of Europe" are not applicable
to Russia, that talk about the political and economic significance
of the Russian bourgeoisie is absurd and ridiculous, that the
Russian Social-Democrats are doomed to a truly tragic condition",
and finally, that when talking about the people as they are",
it is our peasantry one must have in m ind. However, despite the
fact that the outlook of the literary representatives of our extreme
(in opposite directions) parties includes views to a certain extent
identical with one another, tho conclusions they draw from their
premises turn out to be diametrically opposed. When Mr. Tikho
mirov speaks about the people we learn w ith satisfaction that
disappointed in the autocracy of the tsars , our people can pass
over only to the autocracy of the people, that at a revolutionary
moment our people w ill not be split politically when the basic
principle of state power is in question. In just the same way they
will prove to be completely united economically on the land
question, i.e., on the basic question for contemporary Russian
production (sic). We are finally overcome by mirth when we read
that in neither moral strength, clarity of social self-consciousness
nor the resulting historical stability can we place a single of our
social strata on a level w ith the peasant and worker class", that
the intelligentsia are not deceived by their impression and that
at the moment of the final unravelling of the contemporary tangle
of political relationships the people w ill, of course, act with greater
unity than even the exalted (by whom?) bourgeoisie. 110
We see that the people wish well, as a Russian writer111 once
assured the French, and overjoyed, we are already preparing to
burst forth, R o ll, thunder of victory, make merry, brave Rus
sian!11* when suddenly Rus catches our eye and we drop down
from heaven to earth. It appears that the people wish evil indeed.
They deify the tsar, support corporal punishment, are not thinking
of any revolution at all and are prepared to shatter Messrs. the
lovers of the people as soon as they receive a stern telegram about
them. References to the present situation and even to history
152
G. PLEK H A N O V
abound here just as in Mr. Tikhomirovs articles. How strange!

If we turn to students of the people's life like Mr. Uspensky who
are known for their im p artiality , our disappointment only becomes
deeper. We learn that our people are under the power of the
land113 which forces them logically enough to conclude in favour
of absolutism without even a h in t at transition to autocracy
of the people. Mr. Uspensky persuades us that not only such
extreme opposites as Messrs. Aksakov and Tikhomirov, but
people of approximately sim ilar outlooks, hold diametrically
opposed views about the people.
W hat, then, is the cause of all this Babel, this tangle of con
cepts?
B ak un in s classification of the various aspects of the people's
ideal gives us a fairly likely explanation. The fact of the matter
is that Mr. Tikhomirov bases all his social and political consider
ations on certain positive features of this ideal (tho same which
in their substance fully correspond to the ideal developing in the
consciousness of the proletariat in the L atin countries): "the
conviction of the whole people that the land, all the land, belongs
to the people and that the right to make use of it belongs not to
the individ ual, but to the whole village commune, m ir, which
divides it temporarily among individuals . And although the
author of the article W hat Can We Expect from the Revolution?
would not be particularly gratified by the third feature which is
of equal importance to the first two, i.e., the communes ... reso
lute hostility to the state , this hostility, in B akunins own classi
fication, is only the consequence of the quasi-absolute autonomy,
the self-government of the village commune on which many
of Mr. Tikhom irovs hopes rest.* Our author either knows nothing
or does not wish to tell his reader anything about the darkening
features of the peoples ideal (patriarchalism, the absorption of
the individual by m ir, the superstition of the people, naturally
coupled w ith ignorance, poverty, etc.). Mr. Aksakov proceeds
the opposite way. He builds his arguments precisely on these
last features, forgetting tho contraries or passing them over
in silence. Mr. Uspenskys articles also cease to amaze us. He
contrasted Ormuzd with A hrim an,114 the bad aspects of the ideal
with the good, and landed in the blind alley of the power of the
land from which there is no way out, apparently, either for
the peasant or for the whole of Russia, w'hich rests upon the
peasant as the earth does upon the three whales; whereas the
lovers of the people, as he represents them, saw, some the bright,
*
The peasantry knows how to arrange its self-government, to take the
land into the jurisdiction of the mir and to dispose of it in common. Vestnik
Narodnol Voli No. 2, p. 225.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
153
others tho unfortunate features of the peoples character and

ideal, and therefore they could not come to any agreement. All
this is quite understandable and we cannot but thank the late
Bakunin for the key whicli he gave us to understand tho one
sidedness of both his own followers and the majority of our Narod
niks in general.
But it was not to no effect that Bakunin once made a study
of German philosophy. He understood that the classification of
the features of the peoples ideal which he suggestedwhether
we take only the good ones or only the unfortunate ones or,
finally, both the fortunate and the unfortunate features
explained only the Chinese side of the question.115 He understood
that the people must be taken not as they are but as they are
striving to be and are becoming under the influence of the given
historical movement. In this respect Bakunin was much closer
to Hegel than to Mr. Tikhomirov. He was not satisfied with the
conviction that the peoples ideal was "as it is"; he was concerned
with the study of the features of that ideal in their development,
in their m utual interrelations. And precisely in that point,
as I said above, he was not far from the correct formulation of the
question. Had he applied the dialectical method in the appro
priate manner to explaining the peoples life and outlook, had
he better mastered the indubitable truth proved by Marx and
corroborated by all the past and present history of human society,
peoples and states, that the economic fact has always preceded
and always does precede ... political right , and consequently the
social and political ideals of the peoples, had he remembered
in time that the proof of this truth is one of Mr. Marxs great
scientific services ,* I would probably have no need to argue with
Mr. Tikhomirov, for there would be no longer any trace of Baku
ninism".
But dialectics betrayed Bakunin, or rather he betrayed dialec
tics.
Instead of proceeding from economic facts in his analysis
of the Russian peoples social and political ideal, instead of
expecting that old ideal to be refashioned under the influence of
new tendencies in tho economic life of the people, the author of
Statehood and Anarchy sets up a completely arbitrary hierarchy
of defects" of the people's ideal, trying to find a combination of its
unfortunate features in which one is neutralised or even entirely
removed by another. This changes his whole argument into
a completely arbitrary playing with arbitrary definitions. The
author, who seemed to be so close to the truth, suddenly strayed
infinitely far from it simply because he only felt the necessity for
* Statehood and Anarchy, pp. 223-24,
154
G. PLEK H A N O V
a di alcctical appraisal of the peoples world outlook but was either

unable or unw illing to make it. Instead of the anticipated dialec
tics, sophistry appeared on the scene. Bakuninism was saved, but
the elucidation of the tasks of the Russian revolutionary intelli
gentsia was not advanced a single step.
The hierarchy of the various defects in the peoples ideal is
established in the following way. The absorption of the individ
ual by m ir and the worship of the tsar follow, properly speaking,
as direct results ... from patriarchalism. The village commune
itself proves to be nothing but the natural extension of the
fam ily, the tribe,* and the tsarthe common patriarch and
ancestor, the father of the whole of Russia. Precisely for that
reason his power is unlim ited. Hence it is understandable that
patriarchalism is the principal historical evil which we are
obliged to fight w ith all our strength. But how can an anarchist
who has neither the intention nor the slightest wish to impose
on our people or another any ideal of social structure obtained
from reading books or from his own imagination fight the histor
ical e vil? In no other way than by basing himself on the histori
cal development of the peoples ideal. But does the development
of the Russian peoples ideal promote the elim ination from it
of the darkening feature of patriarchalism? W ithout any doubt,
and in this way: the war against patriarchalism is now being
waged in nearly every village and every fam ily, and the village
commune, m ir, has now been so transformed into an instrument
of the hated state pow'er and despotism of officialdom that the
revolt against the latter is becoming at the same time a revolt
against the despotism of the village commune, m ir".** Not embar
rassed by the fact that the fight against the despotism of the
village commune cannot fail to shake the very principles of
communal land tenure, the author considers the question finally
settled and assures us that there remains the deification of the
tsar, which has extremely palled on and weakened in the con
sciousness of the people in the last ten or twelve years, not even
because patriarchalism has been shaken, but thanks to the
wise policy of Alexander II the m ild , a policy prompted by love
of the people. After many trials, the Russian people have begun
*
Apparently M. A. Bakunin did not even suspect that the commun
existed in history before the patriarchy and exists among peoples who show
no trace of patriarchalism. By tho way, he shared this error with many
of his contemporaries, for instance Rodbertus and perhaps Lassalle, who
in his scheme of the history of property, System der erworbenen Rechte, T. I,
S. 217-23, makes no mention of the primitive commune.
INote to the 1905 edition.] I repeat that the Russian village commune
has nothing in common w ith the primitive commune. But in the early eighties
this was not yet established.G.P.
** Statehood and Anarchy, Note A, p. 19.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
155
to understand that they have no worse enemy than the tsar".

The intelligentsia needs only to support and intensify this anti
tsar trend in the minds of the people. In conclusion the same
intelligentsia is urged to fight one more main defect, not men
tioned in the list of the features of the peoples ideal quoted above.
This defect, which has so far paralysed and rendered impossible
a general rising of the people in Russia, is the exclusiveness of the
peasant communes, the isolation and disjunction of the peasant
mirs".... If we consider that the disjunction of the peasant mirs"
results from the circumstance lhat every village commune
forms a closed whole, in consequence of which not one commune
has or even feels* the necessity to have any independent organic
link with the others", that they are united among themselves
only through the intermediary of father tsar, only in his supreme,
paternal authority, we are obliged to admit that no easy task is
imposed on the intelligentsia. To establish a link between the
best peasants in all villages, volosts and, as far as possible, regions,
and, where possible, to establish a sim ilar vital link between the
factory workers and the peasantry, ... to ensure that the best
or progressive peasants in every village, volost and region know
the like peasants of all the other villages, volosts and regions , ...
to convince them that in the people there lives an invincible
strength which is powerful only when it is assembled and works
simultaneously ... and that thus far it has not been assembled, ...
to establish a link between and organise the villages, volosts
and regions according to a general plan and w ith the concerted
aim of emancipating the whole people, ... briefly, to add several
new and very good "features to the peoples character and ideal
and to remove from them several radical defects that is a truly
titanic work! And this gigantic work w ill have to be undertaken
with the conviction that one must be an unmitigated blockhead
or an incorrigible doctrinaire to imagine that one can give some
thing to the people, present them w ith any material good or new
intellectual or moral content, a new truth, and arbitrarily give
their life a new direction or, as ... the late Chaadayev maintained,
write what one wishes on them, as on a blank sheet".** ... Can
one imagine a more crying contradiction between the theoretical
propositions of a programme and the practical tasks it outlines?
People who did not want to break with logic for ever could
do nothing but renounce the practical part of the programme while
supporting its basic propositions, or follow its practical direc
tions and try to find a reliable theoretical basis for them. That
is what happened subsequently.
* My italics.
* Statehood and Anarchy, Note A, p. 9.
156
G. PLEK HA N O V
6. P. N. TKACHOV
But side by side w ith Bakuninism, which carried w ithin itself

the elements of its own disintegration, there was another trend
in the Russian revolutionary party. Extremely hostile to Baku
n in s anarchist philosophy, it agreed w ith him , as I have already
mentioned in the pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle,
in his appraisal of the contemporary situation in Russia. At the
same time, this trend was insured against many of the blunders
the author of Statehood and Anarchy made by, so to speak, its lesser
pretentiousness and the lower logical type of its line of argument.
Bakunin sought the justification of the action he suggested
in the very process of development of the peoples outlook, but
as he used an unsuitable criterion he was forced to substitute the
logical leaps of his own thought for the historical development
of Russian social life. Tkachov, the father of the trend which we
are now going on to, gave no thought to a dialectical analysis
of our social relationships. His programme was the immediate
conclusion he drew from the statics of those relationships. The
contemporary structure of Russian life seemed to him purposely
invented, as it were, for the social (which in his terminology
meant socialist) revolution. For him , to talk about progress and
development was to betray the cause of the people. Now, or in
a very remote future, perhaps never! was the motto of his journal
Nabat. He expressed the same thought in his pamphlet Tasks
of Revolutionary Propaganda in Russia,11* and it pervades every line
of his Open Letter to Engels. Not venturing on to the difficult
road of dialectics, he did not make the false steps in logic typical
of Bakunin, which he so bitingly ridiculed in his Anarchy of
Thought. He was more consistent than Bakunin in the sense that
he kept firmly to his premises and drew more logical conclusions
from them. The whole trouble was that not only those premises,
but also the standpoint he adopted in their elaboration, were
inferior to those of Bakunin for the simple reason that they
were nothing but Bakuninism simplified, a Bakuninism which
renounced all efforts to create its own philosophy of Russian
history and anathematised such attempts. A few extracts from
Tkachovs works w ill suffice to prove this.
Let us begin with his Open Letter to Mr. Frederick Engels.
The purpose of this letter was to help the ignorance of Engels,
to prove to him that the accomplishment of the social revolution
is encountering no serious obstacles in Russia" and that at every
particular moment it is possible to arouse the Russian people for
a unanimous revolutionary protest.* The method he uses to
Offener Brief," S. 10.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
157
prove this thesis is so original, so typical of the history of poor

Russian thought, so important for understanding and correctly
appraising the Narodnaya Volya party's programme and it
anticipates to such a degree Mr. Tikhomirovs whole line of argu
ment that it deserves the readers most serious attention.
In Tkachovs opinion il would be childish to dream of trans
posing the International W orking M ens Association to Russian
soil. This is hindered by the social and political conditions in
Russia. May it be known to you, he says lo Engels,117 that we
in Russia have not at our command a single one of the means
of revolutionary struggle which you have at your disposal in the
West in general and in Germany in particular. We have no urban
proletariat, no freedom of the press, no representative assembly,
nothing that could allow us to hope to unite (in the present econom
ic situation) the downtrodden, ignorant masses of working
people into a single, well-organised, disciplined workers associa
tion.... A working-class literature is unthinkable here, and if
it could be created it would prove useless, because tho majority
of our people cannot read. Personal influence upon the people
is also impossible owing to the police regulations which take
measures against any approach by the intelligentsia to the common
people. But all these unfavourable conditions, the author of the
letter assures Engels, must not lead you to think that the victory
of Ihe social revolution is more problematic, less guaranteed in
Russia than in the West. By no meansl If wro have not certain
of Ihe chances that you have, we can point out many which you
have) not got".
What are these chances? W hy can we expect a revolution, and
what may we expect from it?
We have no urban proletariat, that is true, of course; but.
on the other hand, we have no bourgeoisie at all. Between the
suffering people and the despotism of the state which oppresses
them we have no intermediate estate; our workers will only have
to fight political power the power of capital in our country is still
in the embryo....
Our people are ignorant, that is a fact too. But on the other
hand, the immense majority of them are imbued with the prin
ciples of communal land tenure; they are, if we may put it that
way, communist by instinct, by tradition....
Hence it is clear that despite their ignorance our people are
far nearer to socialism than the peoples of the West, although the
latter aro better educated.
"Our people are accustomed to slavery and subjection that
is also indisputable. But you must not conclude from that that
they are satisfied with their condition. They protest, and protest
continually against it. No matter what form these protests take,
158
G. PLEK HA N O V
whether that of religious sectscalled dissidence that of refus

ing to pay taxes, of revolt, or open resistance to the authorities,
in any case they protest, occasionally with great energy....
True, these protests are narrow and scattered. Nevertheless,
they prove sufficiently that the people cannot bear their condi
tion and that they profit by every opportunity to give vent to the
bitterness and hatred heaped up in their breasts. And that is why
the Russian people may be called instinctively revolutionary in
spite of their apparent torpor, in spite of their not being clearly
aware of their rights....
Our revolutionary party of tho intelligentsia is numerically
small, that is true too. But then, it pursues none but socialist
ideals and its enemies are almost more impotent than it, and
their impotence is to the partys advantage. Our upper estates
constitute no force whatsoeverneither economic (they are too
poor), nor political (they are too obtuse and too much accustomed
to rely in everything on the wisdom of the police). Our clergy are
of no importance whatever.... Our state seems a power only when
considered from a distance. In reality its strength is only appar
ent and fictitious. It has no roots in the economic life of the
people. It does not embody the interests of any estate. It oppresses
indifferently all classes of society and is equally hated by all.
They tolerate the state, they suffer its barbaric despotism with
complete equanimity. But this tolerance, this equanim ity ... are
the result of a mistake: society has created for itself the illusion
that the Russian state is mighty and is under the magic influence
of that illusion. But not much is needed to dispel this illusion.
Two or three m ilitary defeats, a simultaneous rising of the peas
ants in many gubernias, an open revolt in the capital in peace
time, and its influence w ill be destroyed in an instant and the
government w ill find itself alone and abandoned by all.
Thus, in this respect too, we have more chances than you
(i.e., the West in general and Germany in particular). In your
countries the state is by no means a fictitious force, it stands
firmly based on capital; it embodies definite economic interests.
It is not only supported by the army and police (as in our country),
but is strengthened by the whole system of bourgeois relations....
In our country ... on the contrary, our social form owes its exist
ence to the state, to a state hanging, so to speak, in the air, a state
which has nothing in common with the existing social order,
whose roots are in the past, not the present.*
Such is Tkachovs social and political philosophy.
If by some mistake of the type-setter the above quotations
were followed by a reference to the article W hat Can Wo Expect
from the Revolution? Mr. Tikhomirov himself would hardly
"Oflener Brief, S. 4, 5, 6.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
159
notice the mistake, such is the resemblance the copy published

in April 1884 bears to the original which appeared ten years ago.
But alas, what does the glory of the first discovery matter?!
Mr. Tikhomirov does not say a word about his teacher. For his
part, the author of Open Letter to M r. Frederick Engels" did
not consider it necessary to refer to Statehood and Anarchy, which
had already been published in 1873 and contains the same account
of Russian social relations and the same assurances that thw
Russian peasant is communist by instinct, by tradition".
Frederick Engels was perfectly right when he said in his answer
to Tkachov that the latter's argument was based on Bakunins
usual phrases.
But what does Bakuninism lead to when it has lost faith in the
possibility of removing the unfortunate features of peoples
ideal by direct influence and has concentrated its attention on the
fortunate circumstance that our state is hanging in the air and
"has nothing in common w ith the existing social order , that the
"accomplishment of the social revolution presents no difficulties?
It is easy to understand what it leads to. If capital in our country
is still in the embryo" and our workers have to fight only the
political power" of tsarism; if the people, for their part, are
always ready" to rebel just as Pushkins Onegin is to fight a duel,
the revolutionary struggle acquires an exclusively "political
character. But as, moreover, we are unable to unite the downtrod
den, ignorant masses of working people into a single, well-organised, disciplined association, or to create a working-class litera
ture and as it would even bo useless to do so, it appears that it is
not the workers at all who have to wrage that political struggle.
This must be the concern of the same numerically small revolu
tionary party of the intelligentsia whose strength lies in its
socialist ideals and the impotence of its enemies. B ut, owing to
contemporary Russian conditions and also the very substance of
its relations to the other social forces, that m inority, which is
strong because of others weakness, has no alternative but to set
up a secret organisation and prepare a coup d etat in anticipation
of favourable circumstances for a decisive blow m ilitary defeats"
of Russia, simultaneous risings in several gubernias , or revolt
in the capital. In other words, Bakuninism, having lost faith in
progress, leads us direct to conspiracy for the overthrow of the
existing government, the seizure of power and the organisation
of a socialist society with the help of that power and the Russian
peasantrys inborn and traditional inclination towards commu
nism. We saw all this in Tkachovs wrorks long before we beheld
it in Mr. Tikhom irovs article.
But to acquaint ourselves fully w ith Tkachovs programme or,
as he said, the programme of the group lo which all that is cour
160
G. PLEK HA N O V
ageous, clever and energetic in our revolutionary intellectual

youth belongs , we must turn to other works of the editor of Nabat,
since the Open Letter contains only the assurance that the con
temporary period of (Russian) history is the most convenient
for carrying out the social revolution, and references to such
general features of the programme as a direct appeal to the
people, the creation of a vigorous revolutionary organisation
and strict discipline. From the pamphlet Tasks of Revolutionary
Propaganda in Russia we shall get the original thought that
a forcible revolution can take place only when the minority
refuses to wait for the m ajority to become conscious of their
requirements and decides, so to speak, to impose this consciousness
on the m ajority. Finally, in the collection of critical essays
by P. N. Tkachov published under the general title Anarchy of
Thought118 we actually find in the chapter directed against the
programme of the journal Vperyod and the pamphlet Russian
Social-Revolutionary Youth119 the following alternative: One
of the two: either the intelligentsia must take power in its hands
after the revolution, or it must resist, retard the revolution until
the blissful moment when the popular outbreak no longer pre
sents any danger, i.e., when th<* people have assimilated the
results of world thought and acquired knowledge which is beyond
them. The mere circumstance that this knowledge is admitted to
be beyond the people makes it clear where P. N. Tkachovs
sympathies lie.
The organisation of a conspiracy to seize power becomas the
main practical task of propaganda in the newspaper and then in the
journal Nabat. Parallel with this goes propaganda of terror and
the extolling of the so-called Nechayev plot at the expense of the
propagandist circles. For us revolutionaries, who no longer wish
to tolerate the sufferings of the people and can no longer bear
their shameful slave-like condition, for us, whose view is not
dimmed by metaphysical ravings and who are profoundly con
vinced that the Russian revolution, like every other one, cannot
take place without the hanging and shooting of gendarmes, public
prosecutors, ministers, merchants and priests, briefly, cannot take
place without a forcible upheaval , for us materialist revolution
aries the whole question boils down to acquiring the power of the
authority which is now directed against us." These lines, printed
in 1878,* when nobody even thought of forming the Narodnaya
Volya party", show clearly enough where we must seek the source
of the practical ideas whose dissemination this party took upon
itself. We therefore think that the editors of Nabat were right
*
See Nabat, 1878 (month and number not given), Revolutionary
Propaganda, p. L.,so
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
161
in their way when, noting in 1879 the complete fiasco of going

among the people, they added proudly: We were the first to
point out the inevitability of this fiasco; we were the first ... to
implore youth to abandon that fatal anti-revolutionary path and
to return once more to the traditions of direct revolutionary work
and a fighting, centralised revolutionary organisation (i.e., to the
traditions of the Nechayev trend). And ours was not a voice crying
in the wilderness.... The fighting organisation of the revolutionary
forces, the disorganisation and terrorisation of the government
authorities, these have been from the very beginning the basic
demands of our programme. And at present these demands have
at last begun to be put into practice." Carried away by terrorist
activity, the editors even state that at present our only task is
to terrorise and disorganise the government authorities.* 1*1
7. RESULTS
We shall later see the significance of the extracts I have quoted

on the question of our differences. Let us now consider the pro
grammes which we have set forth from the purely historical stand
point and ask ourselves how satisfactory were our formulation
and solution of the problem of tho condition of the Russian village
commune and of the Russian peoples a bility to wage a conscious
struggle for their economic emancipation.
We have seen that both M. A. Bakunin and P. N. Tkachov spoke
a lot about the communist instincts of the Russian peasantry.
References to these instincts form the starting-point of their social
and political arguments and the main basis of their faith in the
possibility of a socialist revolution in Russia. But neither the
author of Statehood and Anarchy nor the editor of Nabat apparently
gave the slightest thought to the question whether the village
commune exists because our people are imbued with the princi
ples of communal land tenure or whether they are imbued with
these principles , i.e., are accustomed to the commune, because
they live under conditions of collective ownership of the land.
Had they devoted more attention to this question about the
answer to which there cannot be any doubtthey would have had
to transfer the main emphasis of their argument from the discus
sion of the peoples instincts and ideals to the study of the
national economy. Then they would have had to pay attention
to the history of land tenure and in general of the right of property
among the prim itive peoples, to the rise and gradual growth of
individualism in the communities of hunting, nomadic and agri
*
11-01329
Nabat, 1879, Nos. 3, 4, 5, pp. 2, 3.
162
G. PLEK H A N O V
cultural tribes, to the social and political influence of this new

principle , which gradually became dominant. Applying the
results of such studies to Russia, they would have had to appraise
the conditions which cause the disintegration of the village
commune and whose significance has particularly grown since
the abolition of serfdom. This appraisal would logically have
brought them to attempt to determine the strength and signif
icance of individualism in the economy of the modern village
commune in Russia. Then, since the significance of this principle
is continually risingunder the influence of conditions adverse
to collectivism they would have had to determine the magnitude
of the acceleration individualism is gaining in the course of its
assault on the rights and the economy of the commune members.
H aving determined w ith all possible accuracy in such conditions
the magnitude of this acceleration, they would have had to go on
to study the qualities and development of the force by means of
which they hoped not only to stave off the triumph of individual
ism, not only to restore to the village commune its primitive
form, but to give it a new and higher form. Then there would have
arisen the question a very im portant one, as we have seen
whether this force would be the product of the inner life of tho
commune or a result of the historical development of external
conditions. In the latter case, this force would be a purely external
one in relation to the commune, and they would then have needed
first of all to ask themselves whether external influences alone
were sufficient for the reorganisation of the economic, social and
political life of tho class concerned. H aving dealt w ith this ques
tion, they would have had to consider another, namely, where the
point of application of this force was to be sought in the sphere
of the conditions of life or in the domain of the thinking habits of
our peasantry. To conclude, they would have had to prove that
the strength of the supporters of socialism grows with greater speed
than individualism is growing in Russian economic life. Only when
they had made this circumstance at least probable could they have
proved the probability of the social revolution which they held
could not encounter any difficulties in Russia.
In each of the cases listed above they would have had to deal
not with the statics but with the dynamics of our social relation
ships, to take the people not as they are , but as they arc
becoming, to consider not the motionless picture but the process
of Russian life taking place according to definite laws. They
would have had to apply in practice the very instrument of dia
lectics which Chernyshevsky used to study the question of the
village commune in its abstract form.
Unfortunately neither Bakunin nor Tkachov were able, as we
have seen, to approach the question of the chances of a .social
OUH D IFFER EN C ES
163
revolution in Russia from this most important standpoint. They

contented themselves w ith the conviction that our people are
communist by instinct, by tradition; and although Bakunin
paid due attention to the weak sides of the peoples traditions
and instincts, although Tkachov saw that such weak sides could be
eliminated only by institutions and not by logical arguments,
neither of them carried their analysis to the end. In appealing
to our intelligentsia they expected social miracles from its activ
ity and presumed that its devotion would be a substitute for
the people's initiative and that its revolutionary energy would
replace the inner striving of Russian social life towards a social
ist revolution. They regarded the national economy, the way of
life and the thinking habits of the peasantry exactly as a still
life, a complete whole requiring only slight changes, right up to
the social revolution itself. In the imagination of those same
writers who, naturally, would not have refused to admit the
forms of tho peoples life in their time to be the result of historical
development, history seemed to stand s till. From the publica
tion of Statehood and Anarchy or Open Letter to Frederick
Engels , right up to the first or second day after the revolution"
the village commune, they held, was to remain in its present
form, which they affirmed was not far from the transition to
socialism. The thing was to set about the matter as soon as possible
and to follow the appropriate road. We brook no postponements,
no delays.... W e cannot and w ill not w ait.... Let each one gather
his belongings as quickly as he can and hasten to set out! wrote
the editor of Nabat. And although there were fundamental differ
ences between Bakunin and Tkachov as to the direction of that
road, each was sure at any rate that if youth followed the road he
indicated they would still manage to find the village commune
in a state of desirable stability. Although every day brings us
new enemies, creates new social forms hostile to us, those new
forms do not change the m utual relations between the factors of
Russian social life. There continues to be no bourgeoisie, the state
continues to be hanging in the air. If we ring the tocsin louder,
if we set about revolutionary activity more energetically, we
shall yet succeed in saving the communist instincts" of the
Russian people and, relying on their attachment to the principles
of communal land tenure , we shall succeed in accomplishing the
socialist revolution. That was the way P. N. Tkachov argued and
also the way, or nearly the way, the author of Statehood and Anarchy
argued.
Our youth read the works of both authors and, splitting into
groups, did indeed hasten to set to work. It may seem strange at
first sight lhat Tkachovs or Bakunins programme could find
supporters among the very intelligentsia that had been reared
11*
104
G. PLEKHAN OV
on tho works of Chernyshevsky and if only for that reason should

have developed the habit of more rigorous thinking. But in sub
stance the matter was simple and was partly explained by Chernyshevskys own influence.
It was not for nothing that Hegel gave such an important place
in his philosophy to the question of method or that those West
European socialists who are proud to trace their descent, inci
dentally, to Hegel and K ant, attach far more importance to tho
method of studying social phenomena than to the data resulting
from that study.* A mistake in the results w ill inevitably be
noticed and corrected by further application of the correct method,
whereas an erroneous method can only in rare and individual
cases give results not contrary to this or that individual truth.
But there can be a serious attitude to questions of method only
in a society which has had a serious philosophical education,
a tiling which Russian society could never boast of. The inadequate
philosophical education made itself felt with particular force
in our country in the sixties, when our thinking realists,123
having established the cult of natural science, began cruelly to
persecute philosophical metaphysics. Influenced by this antiphilosophical propaganda, Chernyshevsky's followers were unable
to master the methods of his dialectical thinking and concentrated
their attention merely on the results of his studies. As a result
of these very studies, as we know, there appeared faith in the
possibility for our village commune of a direct transition to
a higher, communist form of communal life. This conviction
suffered from one-sidedness by virtue of its abstractness, and had
the pupils remained faithful to the spirit and not to tho letter
of Chernyshevskys works, they would not have been slow to pass,
according to an expression I used above, from algebra to arithme
tic, from general abstract arguments about possible transitions of
certain social forms into others, lo the detailed study of the
contemporary conditions and probable future of the Russian village
commune in particular. So-called Russian socialism would thus
have been placed on a perfectly firm basis. Unfortunately, our
revolutionary youth did not even suspect lhat their teacher had
any special method of thinking. Contenting themselves w ith the
results of his investigations, they regarded as his fellow-thinkers
all writers who defended the principle of communal land tenure,
and whereas the author of Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices
*
We aro far from needing bare results so much as study, Engels says,
we have known since Hegels time that without the development leading
to them, results have no significance whatsoever; they are worse than useless
if research stops at them, if they are not made the premises for further devel
opment.122
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
165
could himself never agree, for example, with Shchapov,* our

youth saw in the latters historical works only a new illustration
and new arguments in favour of their teachers opinion. S till loss
could they make a severe criticism of the new revolutionary
doctrines. P. N. Tkachov and M. A. Bakunin seemed to them to
belong to exactly the same trend as Chernyshevsky. Hegels pupils,
while strictly following the very same method which that great
thinker handed down to them, smashed his system to bits. They
kept to the spirit, not the letter of his system. Chernyshevsky's
followers could not bring themselves even to think of a critical
attitude towards his opinions. They kept strictly to every letter
of his writings and lost all idea of their spirit. The result was lhat
they could not preserve in their purity even the results of Cher
nyshevsky \
s investigations, and, m ixing them with Slavophile
tendencies, they formed the curious theoretical amalgam from
which our Narodism subsequently arose.
Thus, the preceding socialist literature bequeathed to us several
(unimitated) attempts at applying the dialectical method to the
solution of important problems in Russian social life and several
socialist programmes; one of these recommended socialist pro
paganda, considering the Russian peasantry just as receptive to il
as the West European proletariat; another insisted on the organi
sation of a nation-wide rebellion, and a third, not considering
propaganda or organisation possible, pointed to the seizure of
power by a revolutionary party as the starting-point of the Russian
socialist revolution.
The theoretical posing of the question of the revolution, far
from progressing since Chernyshevsky's time, regressed in many
respects towards Herzens semi-Slavophile views. The Russian
revolutionary intelligentsia of the early seventies did not add
a single serious argument in support of the negative solulion of
the question posed by Herzen: Must Russia pass through all the
phases of European development?
*
See ApiiCTon, A. II. IIJanoB, >KU3 H i, 11 c o m h h c h h h * , C.-IIeTCpoypr,
23V 89"<J2- [Aristov, A .P. Shchapov, Life and Works, St. Petersburg, pp. 89-
J2.1
Chapter
A FEW REFERENCES TO HISTORY

1. RUSSIAN BLANQUISM
It is now ten years since the most im portant programmes of the

seventies appeared. Ten years of efforts, straggle and sometimes
bitter disappointments have shown our youth that the organisa
tion of a revolutionary movement among the peasantry is impos
sible under the present conditions in Russia. As revolutionary
doctrines, Bakuninism and Narodism are antiquated and are now
received with joy only in the conservative-democratic literary
camp. Their fate w ill be either to lose their distinctive features
altogether and merge w ith new and more fruitful revolutionary
trends or to congeal in their old form and serve as a buttress for
political and social reaction. Our propagandists of the old type
have also disappeared from the stage. But that is not the case
w ith the theories of P. N. Tkachov. A lthough for fu ll ten years
every day has brought us new enemies and created new social
factors hostile to us, although the social revolution has encoun
tered in that time certain considerable obstacles , Russian
Blanquism is now raising its voice w ith particular force and,
still confident that the contemporary historical period is partic
ularly favourable for the carrying out of the social revolution,
it is continuing to accuse all dissenters of moderation and metic
ulousness, repeating in a new key the old refrain: now, or in
a very remote future, perhaps never! or we have not the right
to wait , or let each one gather his belongings and hasten to set
out, and so on. And it is this strengthened and, if we may so
express it, rejuvenated Tkachovism that everybody has to deal
w ith who would like to write about the present differences in
Russian revolutionary spheres. A ll the more must it be taken
into account in the study of the fate of Russian capitalism.
I have already said more than once that Mr. Tikhom irovs
article W hat Can We Expect from the Revolution? is only
a new and supplemented editionthough at the same time infe
rior in many respectsof the social and political views of
P. N. Tkachov. If I have not been mistaken in determining the
distinctive features of Russian Blanquism , the literary activity
OUH DIFFEREN CES
107
of the Narodnaya Volya party" boils down to a repetition of

Tkachovs teachings in different keys. The sole difference is that
for Tkachov the time we are passing through referred to the
early seventies, while for the publicists of the Narodnaya Volya
party" it coincides w ith the late seventies and early eighties.
Completely lacking what the Germans call the sense of history ,
Russian blanquism has very easily transferred and w ill transfer
this concept of the particularly favourable time for the social
revolution from one decade to another. After proving a false
prophet in the eighties, il w ill renew its prophecies w ith an obsti
nacy worthy of a better fate ten, twenty or thirty years later
and will go on doing so right up to the time when the working
class finally understands the conditions for its social emancipa
tion and greets the B ianquist doctrine w ith Homeric laughter.
For the dissemination of Blanquism every moment of history
is favourable except a time which is really favourable for the
socialist revolution.
But it is time to define more exactly the expressions I use.
What is Blanquism in general? W hat is Russian Blanquism?
I. L. Lavrov hopes, as we have seen, that the m ajority of the
members of the Emancipation of Labour group may any day
now be in the ranks of Narodnaya Volya. He affirms lhat Mr. Ple
khanov himself has already undergone a sufficiently groat evolu
tion in his political and social convictions for us to have reason to
hope for new steps 011 his part in the same direction".124 If the
Narodnaya Volya party professes as far as can be judged by its
literary works the B ianquist standpoint, it turns out that my
evolution too is taking place in the same direction. The.Marxism which I profess at present is consequently but a purgatory
through which my socialist soul must pass to obtain tinal rest
in the lap of Blanquism. Is that so? W ill such an evolution
be progressive? How does this question appear from the stand
point of modern scientific socialism?
Rlanqui is first and foremost a political revolutionary. we
read in an article by Engels,115 a socialist only iri feeling, who
sympathises with the people in their sufferings but has no special
socialist theory of his own and proposes no definite measures for
social reorganisation. In his political activity he was m ainly
a so-called 'man of action'* who was convinced that a small num
ber of well-organised people who choose the right moment and
curry out a revolutionary attempt can attract the popular masses
with one or two successes and thus carry out a victorious revo
lution. During the reign of Louis Philippe he could naturally
organise such a group only, of course, in the form of a secret
* |Italics by llekhanov.]
168
G. PLEK H A N O V
society and what happened then was what always happens when
there is a conspiracy. The people forming it, wearied by contin
uous restraint and vain promises that it would soon come to the
final blow, ended by losing all patience and ceasing to obey, and
then one of two things remained: either to allow the conspiracy
to fall to pieces or to start the revolutionary attempt without
any external occasion. An attempt of that kind was made (on
May 12, 1839) and was suppressed at the very outset. This con
spiracy of B lanqui, by the way, was the only one that was not.
discovered by the police....
From tho fact that B lanqui viewed every revolution as
a Handstreich by a small revolutionary m inority, it naturally
follows that a revolutionary dictatorship must be established
after a successful upheaval; naturally not a dictatorship of the
whole revolutionary class, the proletariat, but of a small num
ber of those who have carried out the Handstreich and who
themselves were previously subject to the dictatorship of one
or a few of the elect.
The reader sees, Engels continues, that B lanqui is a revolu
tionary of the old generation. Such conceptions of the course of
revolutionary events have already grown too obsolete for the
German working-class party, and oven in France they can arouse
sympathy only in the loast mature or least patient workers."
Thus we see that socialists of the latest, scientific school consid
er Blanquism as an already obsolete standpoint. The transition
from Marxism to Blanquism is not impossible, of courseall
sorts of things happen but on no account w ill it be acknowledged
by any Marxist as progress in the political and social convict ions
of any of their fellow-thinkers. O nly from the Blanquist stand
point can such an evolution" be considered progressive. And
if the honourable editor of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli has not radically
changed his views of the socialism of M arxs school, his prophecy
concerning the Em ancipation of Labour group is bound to puzzle
every im partial reader.
We see further from this quotation from Engels that Tkachov's
conception of the forcible revolution as something imposed
on the m ajority by the m inority is nothing but Blanquism which
could be called the purest if the editor of N abat had not taken
it into his head to try to prove that in Russia there is no need
even to impose socialism on the m ajority, who are communist
by instinct, by tradition .
The distinctive feature of the Russian variety of Blanquism is
therefore merely the idealisation of the Russian peasantry bor
rowed from B akunin. Let us now pass on to Mr. Tikhom irovs
views and see whether they come under this definition or are
a now variety of Russian socialism.
OU R D IFFEREN CES
169
2. L. TIKHOM IROV
I m aintain that there is absolutely nothing new in them except

a few historical, logical and statistical mistakes.
These mistakes indeed are something new and original, typical
only of the views of Mr. Tikhomirov. Neither Blanquism in general
nor Russian Blanquism in particular had any part in their appear
ance or their peculiar evolution".
Their appearance was due to a purely negative cause: lack
of knowledge, which generally has a fairly prominent part in the
genesis of the social and political concepts of our intelligentsia and
which attains inordinate proportions in Mr. Tikhom irovs article.
It w ill not be difficult for the reader to check the correctness
of our appraisal if he endeavours w ith us to disentangle the rav
elled and in several places broken threads of the exceptionalist
considerations of our author.
Let us begin w ith the history of revolutionary ideas in Russia
and in the West.
Only a few years ago, says Mr. Tikhom irov, socialists, pro
ceeding from the analysis of social relationships, made by their
teachers in the capitalist countries of Europe, considered p o liti
cal activity to be harm ful, if anything, to the interests of the
popular masses as such, for they presumed that in our country
a constitution would be an instrument for the organisation of lhe
bourgeoisie, as it is in Europe. On the basis of these considera
tions, one could even find among our socialists the opinion that
of two evils an autocratic tsar was at any rate better for the
people than a constitutional one. Another, so-called liberal,
trend was opposite in character , etc.*
The Russian socialists considered political activity to be harm
ful, if anything ... proceeding from the analysis ... made by
their teachers in the capitalist countries of the West . W hat anal
ysis is Mr. Tikhomirov talking about? W hich teachers does
iie mean? Whose portraits this? Wheres such talk heard?120
We know that West European socialist thought, proceeding from
the analysis ... made in the capitalist countries of Europe, pre
sented and still presents two types of attitude to the question
of political activity. The followers of Proudhon profess polilicnl
abstention and advise that it should be pursued right up to the
day after the revolution". For them political revolution is lhe
aim, economic revolution, the means". That is why they wish
to begin with the economic upheaval, supposing that in contem
porary conditions political activity is harm ful, if anything,
to the interests of the popular masses as such", and that a con* Vestnik Narodnoi Volt No. 2, p. 231.
170
G. PLEK H A N O V
sl i till ion is merely an instrument for the organisation of the

bourgeoisie. Another trend was opposite in character. DeutschFranzosische Jahrbiicher,127 published in Paris in 1844, roughly
outlined at that time the political task of the working class.
In 1847 Marx wrote in his Misere de la philosophic. Do not say
that social movement excludes political movement. There is
never a political movement which is not at the same time social.
It is only in an order of things in which there are no more classes
and class antagonisms thal social evolutions w ill cease to be
political revolutions."* In the Manifesto of the Communist Party
Marx and Engels again return to the same question and prove
that every class struggle is a political struggle" and most causti
cally ridicule those true socialists in whose opinionas in
Mr. Tikhom irovs the constitution is in Europe merely an
instrument for the organisation of the bourgeoisie . In the opin
ion of the authors of the Manifesto, socialism, opposing the
emancipation movement of the bourgeoisie, lost its pedantic
innocence and became the instrument of political and social
reaction. The same thought was then repeated many times in
other works of the authors of the Manifesto and of their followers.
It can be said that almost every issue of every Social-Democratic
newspaper in every European country reproduces this thought
in some form or other. Karl Marx and the Marxists have done
everything to elucidate their social and political views and
show the unsoundness of the Proudhon programme.
And after such b rillia n t literary a ctiv ity activity which
opens a new epoch in Ihe history of socialist thought in Europe"
we hear that the Russian socialists denied the expediency of the
political struggle for the sole reason that they proceeded from
the analysis made by their teachers in the capitalist countries
of Ihe West ! Can one speak seriously now of any other
analysis of social relationships in Western Europe than I hat
contained in the works of Marx and Engels? This would he
appropriate only in a historical work dealing w ith the mistakes
and one-sidedness of M arxs predecessors. But either Mr. Tikho
mirov is entirely unacquainted w ith Marxist literature or he has
understood it in exactly the same way as Mr. Ivanyukov, whose
bankruptcy was announced and partly proved in the first issue

of Vestnik.129 The Russian socialists spoke of Ihe harmfulness
of political activity, not because they generally proceeded from
tho analysis of social relationships in Western Europe, but
because they proceeded from an erroneous, petty-bourgeois
analysis made by Proudhon. But were they all Proudhonists?
Were they all supporters of the teaching of Bakunin, lhat reform* Misire de la phllosophie, pp. 177-78.128
OUR DIFFEREN CES
171
er, so to speak, of Proudhon ism? Who does not know that far
from all of them were! P. N. Tkachov, just as absolutely all the
West European Blanquists, proceeding, by the way, not from
the analysis made in the capitalist countries of Europe , but
from the traditions of French Jacobinism, savagely attacked the
principle of political abstention. D id not P. N. Tkachov write
precisely only a few years ago? Must his opinions not be regis
tered in the history of Russian revolutionary thought? It would
be a very risky step for Mr. Tikhomirov to decide to answer this
question in the affirmative; what if his own philosophy turned
out in effect to be only a new edition of Tkachovs? It is easy
for any reader to make a comparison.
But were there only Bakuninists and Blanquists in live Russian
revolutionary movement only a few years ago? Were there no
other trends? Were there no writers who knew that a constitution
is in Europe ... an instrument for the organisation not only of
the bourgeoisie, but of another class, too, whose interests social
ists cannot ignore w ithout betraying their own banner? It seems
to ine that there were, and precisely iu the camp of those opposed
to Tkachov, who, while revolting against the thought that politi
cal activity is harm ful, if anything, to the interests of the popu
lar masses as such, nevertheless demanded a ll or nothingeither
the seizure of power by the socialists or political stagnation for
Russia. When 011 these grounds it occurred to him to terrify the
Hussian socialists with the spectre of capitalism and a bourgeois
constitution, here is the answer he immediately got from a wellknown Russian writer in an appeal to our social-revolutionary
youth: You are told that Russia must have a revolution now or
she will never have one. You are shown a picture of the bourgeoi
sie developing in our country and are told that with its develop
ment the struggle w ill become more difficult, that a revolution
will become impossible. The author has a very poor idea of your
wits if he thinks you w ill yield to his arguments.... What grounds
are there for thinking that the struggle of the people against the
bourgeoisie would be unthinkable in Russia if forms of social
life like those abroad were indeed established there?
it not
the development of the bourgeoisie that roused the proletariat to the
struggle? Are not loud calls to the imminent social revolution
heard in all the countries of Europe? Does not the bourgeoisie
realise the danger threatening it rrom the workers and continually
drawing nearer?... Our youth are by no means so cut off from the
world as lo be ignorant of this state of affairs, and those who would
like to convince them lhat the domination of the bourgeoisie
would be unshakable in our country are relying too much on
youths lack of knowledge when they draw for them a fantastic
picture of Europe."
172
G. PLEK H A N O V
It is clear that the author of these lines by no means considered

a constitution as an instrument for the organisation of the bour
geoisie alone as it is in Europe, to quote Mr. Tikhomirov. Let
Mr. Tikhom irov judge the author to be right or wrong as he
wishes, but reference should be made to him in speaking of the
types of altitude of our intelligent thinkers to the question
of political activity. Even if the writer we have quoted P. L. Lav
rov,* now Mr. Tikhomirov's co-editor did not acknowledge
Ihe expediency of political struggle in Russia, it was by no means
because he proceeded" from the Bakuninist analysis of the
social relationships in the capitalist countries of Europe".
Mr. Tikhomirov is absolutely unforgivable for his lack of atten
tion to the writings of his honourable colleague.
Let us be im partial though, let us try to point out circumstances
attenuating his guilt. W hat is the explanation for this lack of
attention? W hy does Mr. Tikhomirov include all Russian social
ists of the recent past in his list of Bakuninists and pass over
P. L. Lavrovs writings in silence; why does he forget about
Tkachov already now before the boots of the smugglers who
brought N abat into Russia are worn out? For a very simple rea
son. Theres nothing new under the sun, sceptics say. And if
that cannot be considered as unconditionally true, there is never
theless no doubt that in many programmes of Russian social
ism there is absolutely nothing new. And yet the supporters
of those programmes have great pleasure in saying that their
trend was the first open manifestation" of such and such a con
sciousness. A ll one has to do in order to afford oneself such
a pleasure is to forget certain things in the history of the Russian
revolutionary movement and to add a thing or two of ones own.
Then it w ill be clear that our intelligent thinkers were a kind
of lost sheep u n til the programme in question appeared, but that
as soon as the authors of that programme uttered their Let
there be light , the majestic sunrise began, as Hegel said of the
epoch of the French Revolution.131 The appropriate standpoint
was found, the misunderstandings were dissipated, truth was
discovered. Is it surprising that people to whom pleasant selfdeception is dearer than many a bitter truth132 are tempted
by such prospects and, forgetting their predecessors and their
contemporaries, attribute to their own party the discovery
of methods of struggle which, often enough, far from being dis
covered, were not even correctly understood, by that party?
Mr. Tikhom irov has become infatuated w ith precisely that
kind of stereotyped method in historical research. He wanted
to show that the bulk of the Russian revolutionary intelligen* See his pamphlet, Russian Social-Revolutionary Y outh,130 pp. 22-24.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
173
tsia, despite the famous analysis, could not renounce lhe light
against political oppression, but all this, nevertheless, took
place only unw ittingly and spontaneously. The idea of the actual
equality of the political and the economic elements in the party
programme was clearly and loudly acknowledged only w ith the
appearance of the Narodnaya Volya trend* (which our author
humbly honours with capitals). It was to prove his proposition
that Mr. Tikhomirov attributed to all the Russian socialists
views held only by the Bakuninists. As the latter considered
political activity harm ful, if anything, while the Narodovoltsi
rather thought it useful, it is clear that the honour of discovering
that political activity is useful belongs to Narodnaya Volya.
It was awkward to mention Tkachov because that would have
revealed that he professed just that kind of equality of the polit
ical and the economic elements in the party programme which
was clearly and loudly acknowledged , it is alleged, only with
the appearance of the Narodnaya Volya trend. Neither did
Mr. Tikhomirov find it tim ely lo mention the writings of his
co-editor, for to criticise and appraise them he would have had
to adopt a standpoint which was quite unusual for a man who
still imagined that there was no other analysis of social rela
tionships in Western Europe than that made by Proudhon
and the Proudhonists, by Bakunin and the Bakuninists.
Mr. Tikhomirov did all that was possible and even attem pt
ed a little of tho impossible for the exaltation of his party.
Ho brought himself, for instance, to affirm that the former found
ers of Chorny Peredel" were once among the fiercest oppo
nents of the constitution. And yet, if he had beon guided in his
historical research by a striving for truth and not by the interests
of party politics he would not have forgotten lhat in the very
first issue of Chorny Peredel, in A Letter to Former Comrades,133
the following view on the constitution was expressed, which was
far from corresponding to his idea of the former founders of the
paper in question: Do not think, comrades, lhat I am. altogether
against a constitution, against political freedom. says the author
of the letter. I have too great a respect for the human personality
to be against political freedom It is unreasonable to say that
the idea of political freedom is incomprehensible, unnecessary
for lhe people. I t (i.e., political freedom) is just as necessary
for the people as for the intelligentsia. The difference is that
among the people this need merges w ith other, more vital and
basic needs of an economic character. These latter must be taken
into consideration by any social-revolutionary party which desires
* Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, p. 232.
174
G. PLEK HA N O V
political freedom to be fu lly ensured and guaranteed from usur

pation and distortion by hostile elements.
These lines contain inaccuracy in expression and incorrectness
in the definition of concepts. But the conclusions that the found
ers of Chorny PeredeV' were opponents of the constitution,
and oven the fiercest opponents, can be drawn from them only
by a man who has either renounced logic altogether or consciously
ignores facts in the interests of his parly, or finally, has no
knowledge at all of those facts, that is, does not know the very
history of revolutionary ideas in Russia which he writes of with
the appearance of a learned expert!
But perhaps the founders of Chorny Peredel changed their
views on the constitution subsequently. Let us see. Under the
editorship of these founders two issues of the paper were pub
lished. We know already what views on the political freedom were
contained in the first issue; w hat, then, do we find in the
second?
N aturally it is not for us, who deny a ll subjection of man to
man, to mourn the fall of absolutism in Russia; it is not for us,
whom the struggle against the existing regime has cost such terrif
ic efforts and heavy losses, lo wish for its continuation, we read
in the leading article of that issue. We know the price of political
freedom and can only regret that the Russian constitution will
not give it a large enough place as well. We welcome any struggle
for human rights and Ihe more energetically the struggle is waged
the greater is our sym pathy towards it.... But besides tho advan
tages which political freedom indisputably brings w ith it, besides
the tasks of winning it, there are other advantages and tasks; and
they must not be forgotten precisely now that social relationships
have become so acute ami we must therefore be prepared for
anything.13J
Is that the language of the fiercest opponents of the constitu
tion?
There were, of course, quite substantial errors in the programme
of Chorny Peredel. No fewer than in the programme of the
Narodnaya Volva party. But those errors can be criticised
successfully only from Ihe standpoint of scientific socialism, cer
tainly not from thal of the Narodnaya Volya publicists. The latter
labour under the same defect as the founders of Chorny Peredel"
did once namely, in ab ility to adopt a critical altitude to the
social and political forms of our national life. People who are
reconciled to the idealisation of these forms and base their practi
cal plans on it display greater consistency when they conclude in
favour of the programme of Chorny Peredel than when they sub
scribe to that of the Narodnaya Volya party.
Let Mr. Tikhomirov try lo prove the contrary.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
175-
llowever, he will hardly have* time for that. He w ill first have
to show how his revolutionary outlook differs from P. N. Tka
chov's, how the social and political philosophy of tho article
What Can We Expect from the Revolution? differs from that
of the Open Letter to Frederick Engels. U n til he has solved
that difficult problem, his arguments about the historical signifi
cance of the Narodnaya Volya trend w ill have no meaning at all.
The reader may adm it that the actions of Narodovoltsi were
heroic, but that their theories were as bad as could be, and
what is the chief thing they were by no means new; in other
words, the reader can say that the Narodovoltsi-terrorists were
heroes while the Narodovoltsi-writers were ... inferior to Iheir
tasks. This conclusion w ill not be shaken even by references 1o the
fact that the socialists in the Narodnaya Volya trend for the
first time reached the level of a party, and of perhaps the strong
est party in the country. Even if there were not a shade of exag
geration in those words, Ihey would still justify the conclusion
being drawn from them that there are times when, despite erro
neous and immature theories, energetic parties can reach the
level of a dom inating influence in the country. But, no more.
Only people who are ignorant of history can conclude from the
influence of this or that party that its theories are infallible. The
Narodnaya Volya trend is not new even in the respect that the
course of its ideas is lagging far behind (he course of things
caused by the trend itself. Has there been any lack of parties
which did not understand the historical significance of their
activity, any lack of fictions which in no way corresponded to the
idea of party actions? From the fact that the Independents135
temporarily reached the level of a party ... perhaps the strongest
party in the country, one still cannot conclude lhat there was
more common sense and logic in their religious teachings than
in the teachings of other parties. And yet the Independents even
succeeded in seizing power , a thing which the Russian Blanquists
as yet only promise to do.
While the author collects material for a more lasting exalta
tion of the political philosophy of the Narodnaya Volya trend
we shall have time for a detailed study of the article W hat Can
We Expect from the Revolution? and an exhaustive definition
or Mr. Tikhom irovs outlook.138
We already know that he either does not know enough himself
nr did i.ot want lo give his readers the opportunity of getting
to know the recent history of socialism in general and of Russian
socialism in particular. Let us now go on to his arguments on
history generally and especially tho history of capitalism.
He engages in these edifying considerations for the following
amazing reason:
176
G. PLEK HAN OV
Tlie political struggle, he says, has become such an irrevo

cable conclusion of Russian life lhat nobody can make up his
mind to deny it. But, while not making up their minds, a cer
tain section of the socialists are also unable to bring this conclu
sion into relation w ith the customary theoretical views, and in
their attempts to find this relation they resort to artificial con
structions which completely distort the meaning of the political
struggle which Narodnaya Volya has undertaken.
What is this certain section of the socialists" and what are
lheir customary views? Tho preceding pages of Mr. Tikhomirovs
article told us that only a few years ago, socialists ... considered
political activity to be harm ful, if anything, to the interests
of the popular masses as such. We decided then that in Mr. Tikho
m irovs opinion all the Russian socialists only a few years ago"
were Bakuninists, since he did not say a word of any other trends.
We also saw that Narodnaya Volya noticed the Russian social
ists mistake and helped them to understand the character of the
historical development of Russia. It now appears that a certain
section" of the Russian socialists cannot rid themselves of their
customary views and reach conclusions which completely dis
tort the meaning of the activity of the Narodovoltsi. Apparently
Mr. Tikhomirov means the Russian Bakuninists, who failed to
understand the character of Russias development. Thai would
be a logical opinion, but il is not our aulhor's.
Proceeding from the thought that Russia must inevitably
pass through the phase of capitalist development to become capablo
of accepting and carrying out the ideas of socialism, they (the
socialists who belong lo the certain section mentioned above)
"Iry to draw the Russian revolutionaries on to the road of purely
political struggle, exclusively for a constitution, and abandon as an
impossible fantasy all thought of attaining, simultaneously with a
political upheaval, a greater or lesser degree of economic upheaval."
W hat a turn, God be praised! we would exclaim, quoting
Shchedrin; but unfortunately such a lyrical outburst will not
solve the cursed questions which torture us. Where did this
certain section of tho Russian socialists come from, andwhat
is more puzzlingwhere did they get their customary views
from if "only a few years ago a ll Russian socialists denied the
expediency of the political struggle? How can people who ascribe
no importance to that struggle proceed from the thought that
Russia must inevitably pass through tho phase of capitalist
development? This thought may bo correct or it may be erro
neous, but in any case it is a new one and it bears no relation
whatever to the customary theoretical views of any section
of the Russian socialists, as is vouched for by the history of the
question of capitalism in Russia in general and by the historical
OUH D IFFEREN CES
177
references supplied by Mr. Tikhom irov himself. And if this

thought, is new. it is probably based on some new theoretical
views which were unknown or unpleasant to Russian socialists
only a few years ago. And if a new trend has arisen in Russian
socialist thought, it should be named, defined; its genesis should
he pointed out and it should not be dismissed with vague hints
about some kind of customary theoretical views which explain
nothing at all in the present case.
We have already noted, however, that Mr. Tikhomirov does
not like direct blows and bears no resemblance to Svyatosluv, who, when about to attack one or the other of his enemies,
used to tell him beforehand: I will attack thee. Mr. Tikhomirov
attacks his opponents without any preliminary declaration of
war. That, of course, is a matter of taste, and tastes differ, as
we know.
Wondering, however, why indeed our author proceeds with
such secrecy , we must, by our own reason , 137 reach Ihe solution
of this question of the new trend in Russian socialism a question
which is highly interesting for us. We ourselves have renounced
ninny old customary theoretical views of the Russian social
istsyou never know, perhaps we may agree with the innovators
whom Mr. Tikhomirov is analysing. It is true they are not attrac
tive as Mr. Tikhomirov describes them, but then, how many times
has it been affirmed to the world 138 that the opponent must also
be given a hearing!
3. THE EMANCIPATION OF LABOUR GROUP
In the opinion of the socialists of this formation the desire

for an economic upheaval is only harmful because it terrifies
the liberals with the red spectre and deprives us of their colla
boration in the struggle for a constitution.
These words about the red spectre sound somewhat fam iliar.
What article, what pamphlet do they occur in? Ah, of course!
I used that expression in my pamphlet Socialism and the Political
Struggle, where I said that the Narodovollsi terrify our society
with the red spectre.
What if all Mr. Tikhomirov says is only a parable in which
a certain section of the socialists" is to be understood as meaning
the Emancipation of Labour group, and customary theoretical
views , the views of the members of that group? But no, it would
be too comical.
Indeed, lias the Emancipation of Labour group ever abandoned
all thought of attaining, simultaneously w ith a political upheav
al, a greater or lesser degree of economic upheaval"? W hat non
sense! We only do not believe in that peculiar theory according
l'.!- 01321)
178
0 . P LEKHANOV
to which the cause of a certain class can be accomplishedto

a greater or lesser degree by a small group. We only say that
if a lawyer can represent his client in court, no Committee, whether
Executive, Administrative or whatever else it may be called,
can represent the working class in history, that the emancipation
of that class must be its own work and that in order to carry it out
the class must acquire political education and must understand
and assimilate the ideas of socialism. We think that the possibility
of the economic emancipation of the working class increases
in direct proportion to the speed and intensity of this process
of education and assimilation. Our socialist intelligentsia, for
whom it would be childish even to think of carrying out the
economic upheaval by their own forces, can, however, render
inestimable services to the workers by preparing them to put into
effect the general idea of the worker estate . 19 In the very first
publication of the Em ancipation of Labour group, the pamphlet
Socialism and the Political Struggle, it was said quite clearly
that our intelligentsia must become the leader of the working
class in the impending emancipation movement, explain to it
its political and economic interests and also the interdependence
of those interests. They must ensure that even in the pre-consti
tutional period the factual relations of the social forces in Russia
are changed in favour of the working class.... They must exert all
their energy so that in the very opening period of the constitu
tional life of Russia our working class w ill be able to come for
ward as a separate party with a definite social and political
programme. Tho detailed elaboration of that programme must
be left to the workers themselves, but the intelligentsia must
elucidate for them its principal points, for instance, a radical
review of the present agrarian relations, the taxation system and
factory legislation, state help for producers associations, and
so forth .* Does all this resemble abandoning all thought of attain
ing, simultaneously w ith a political upheaval, a greater or
lesser degree of economic upheaval"? 1 hope not. And as Mr. Tikho
mirov is too intelligent a man not to understand such simple
things, and too conscientious a writer purposely to distort their
meaning, by a certain section of the socialists he apparently
did not mean the Em ancipation of Labour group, or by custom
ary theoretical views , the views set forth in the pamphlet
Socialism and the Political Struggle.
In all probability the mention of the red spectre is not bor
rowed from m y pamphlet either. If it were, I would be justified
in reproaching Mr. Tikhomirov for the fact that his quotations are
*
Socialism and the Political Struggle, pp. 84-85 |pp. 102-03 of
volume).
Ihis-
Oi;H DIFFEREN CES
179
not exact". When I -spoke of the rod spectre I did not recommend
thal our socialists should renounce the desire"' to achieve a greater
or lesser degree of economic upheaval". I recommended that they
should renounce the desire to chatter about the nearness of the
economic upheaval when they had done nothing or very little
for the actual accomplishment of such an upheaval and when
confidence in its proximity could be based only on the most child
ish idealisation of the people. I opposed chatter about the red
spectre to effective work for the economic emancipation of the
working class, as anybody can see by reading pages 71 and the
following of my pamphlet, where, among other things, one can
find a reminder of the example of the German Communists in
1848.14U Or is Mr. Tikhomirov accusing Marx himself of once
renouncing all thought of attaining, simultaneously with a polit
ical upheaval, a greater or lesser degree of economic upheaval?
Kven if we presume that our author has a very poor knowledge
of West European socialist literature as everything goes to
showsuch crying ignorance would be completely unpardonable.
No, it was evidently not my pamphlet or what I said about the
red spectre that Mr. Tikhomirov had in mind.
Hut as we have started talking about this spectre, it is worth
while explaining in detail what provided me with the occasion
for mentioning it in my pamphlet.
At the end of the leading article of Narodnaya Volya No. 6 , we
rend the following appeal to our so-called society:
Acting in the interests of society we urge society to emerge at
last from its pusillanimous apathy; we implore it to raise its
voice in favour of its own interests, the interests of tho people,
nnd the life of its children and brothers, who are being systemati
cally persecuted and killed. *
I read in Kalendar Narodnoi Vo/i141 that in respect of our
liberals we must point out, w ithout concealing our radicalism,
that given the present setting of our party tasks, our interests
and theirs compel us to act jointly against the government".**
At the same time, Mr. T ikhom irovs conviction that after the
fall of absolutism we may anticipate the foundation of the social
ist organisation of Russia was not the first open manifestation
of the Narodnaya Volya party's hopes. By this foundation of
the socialist organisation of Russia" were meant not those suc
cesses of the working-class m inim um programme which Marx calls
the first victory of economics of labour over the economics of
capital, but the social revolution after Nabat's fashion. In order
* I quote from the first edition published abrond.

** Kalrndar, p. 129.
12*
180
G. P LEK HA N O V
to convince the reader of the possibility of such a revolution, a

doctrine was invented alleging that the relations between the
political and the economic factors in Russia were particularly
favourable to it.
F inally , the agitational influence of the terrorist struggle un
dertaken by the Narodnaya Volya party extended far more to
society than to the peopie in the narrow sense of the word.
Rearing all this in m ind, 1 wondered who it was that the Na
rodnaya Volya party was deceivingitself or society? What
a sophist one must be to convince the liberals that the pres
ent setting of party tasks , i.e., the social (I do not say the
socialist) revolution after Tkachovs fashion, compels them (the
liberals) to act jointly with Narodovoltsi against the govern
ment. Where can one lind liberals who are naive enough not to
notice how loosely this sophism holds together? Not in Russia,
at any rate. W hile urging our society to emerge, at last, from
its pusillanimous apathy , Narodnaya Volya at the same time
assures it that by doing so and by overthrowing absolutism it
w ill work directly to promote the social revolution. Narodnaya
V olyas propaganda. 1 argued, cannot be successful in our society.
On the other hand, the terrorist struggle, for all its indisputable
importance, has absolutely nothing in common w ith the founda
tion of the socialist organisation of Russia . W hat, in fact, has
Narodnaya Volya done to prepare such an organisation? Has it
founded secret revolutionary groups among the people? Then
why is nothing heard of such groups? Has it conducted socialist
propaganda among the people? R ut where is the popular litera
ture it has created? W ith the exception of the very poorly edited
Rabochaya Gazela142 we know of none at all. This means that
the foundation of the socialist organisation of Russia is await
ing the Narodnaya Volya party, so to speak, w ithout having
received any in v ita tio n from the latter. Rut we can hardly expect
such courtesy from history. Narodnaya Volya wants to reap what
it has not sown, looks for the social revolution growing w ild, so to
speak. It aims its gun at one hare and thinks it w ill shoot another.
W hat it expects from the revolution does not correspond to wluit
it has done for the revolution. This being so. is it not time to
bring the conclusions into agreement with the premises and to
understand that the terrorist struggle is a struggle for political
freedom and nothing more? Is it not lim e to adm it that this strug
gle has been waged m ainly in the interests of society, as No. 6
of Narodnaya Volya admits? Is it not time to cease t e r r if y in g society
w ith the appearance of the red spectre from a direction from
which the red banner of the working class can never appear? Talk
of this logically impossible appcarance is harmful not only because
it deprives us of the collaboration of the liberals in I lie strug
OUH DIFFERENCES
181
gle for a constitution. It inspires us w ith completely unjustified

confidence that the socialist revolution is awaiting us indepen
dently of any efforts on our part; it diverts our attention from
the most important p o in t the organisation of the working class
for its struggle against its present and future enemies. This, and
only this, was the meaning of what 1 said about the red spectre.
On the eve of the war of 1870 there were people in France who
shouted that the French troops would not encounter any obsta
cles on the road to Berlin and gave little thought to arms and
food for the soldiers . 1 *3 There were others who said that without
wishing to terrify anybody w ith the spectre of the old soldier
the first, thing to do was to organise the countrys m ilitary forces.
Which of these understood the interests of their country best?
But my explanation has mado me digress. I wanted to study
Mr. Tikhomirovs philosophy of history and have diverted to
explanations about the red spectre.
A certain section of the socialists", by their liberal programme
und their customary theoretical views , must bring us out on to
the correct road and back to the subject which we are interested
in.
What else does this certain section say, and how does
Mr. Tikhomirov defeat it?
la the words of our author this section almost lim it
their arguments to the considerations quoted above about the
constitution and the terrifying spectre. They have not even taken
the trouble to explain their extreme p artiality for a constitution.
This pernicious partiality is somewhat incomprehensible, as are
in general all these (all which?) programmes, and on the whole
il gives the impression of something not fully expressed, not
fully defined. These programmes arise, however, from a single
common standpoint, which is already fully defined. This at
least is good; but what kind of standpoint gives rise to all these
programmes, i.e., among others, to the programme of a certain
section of the socialists? A very bad one, because it creates
a trend which has a corrupting influence on the revolutionary
party.
We are speaking of a trend which considers Russian capitalism
as historically inevitable and, reconciled to this alleged inevitable
fact, consoles itself w ith the thought that unless it goes through
the school of capitalism Russia cannot become capable of putting
the socialist system into practice.
This, we take it, is not new, for on the preceding page we read
that a certain section of the socialists proceed from Ihe thought
lhat "Russia must inevitably pass through the phase of capitalist
development", etc. The common point of view which gives rise
lo all these programmes proves to be nothing more than the
182
G. PLEK HA NO V
starting-point of one of these programmes. But even if it is nei

ther new nor quite logical, its interest cannot be doubted. Now
it becomes clear why a certain section of our socialists display
extreme partiality for a constitution . Indeed, what do we need
a constitution for? Mr. Tikhomirov asks. Surely not to give the
bourgeoisie new means of organising and disciplining the working
class by depriving them of land, fining and man-handling them.
Hence, the only man who can go headlong to his destruction is
one who has irrevocably bowed down before the inevitability
and necessity of capitalism in Russia. A certain section of the
socialists have bowed down before that in evitability , and once
they have thus sinned in thought they cannot stop on the slope
of sin and vice. As if it were not enough to display partiality for
a constitution , which is a disgrace to an orthodox Bakuninist,
they have begun or w ill begin very soon to show condescendence
towards depriving of land, fining and man-handling , in con
trast to Mr. Tikhomirov, who wants neithor the bourgeois nor
depriving of land, lining or man-handling. But what do a cer
tain section of the socialists want all these horrors for? It is quite
clear. In the present condition of Russia, of Russian capitalism
and of the Russian factory worker, the propaganda of the politi
cal struggle is bound temporarily to lead anybody who believes
in the historical necessity of capitalism to a complete renuncia
tion of socialism. The worker capable of class dictatorship hard
ly exists. Hence he cannot be given political power. Is it not
far more advantageous to abandon socialism altogether for a
while as a useless and harmful obstacle to the immediate and
necessary aim? That is the way a consistent man, capable of
self-sacrifice, argues. Now wo know where fines and man-handl
ing come from, although it is not yet apparent whether they
are destined to exist only in the terrified im agination of
Mr. Tikhomirov or are actually to be included in the programme
of a certain section of the socialists.
We shall try to solve this im portant question later; for the
time being let us hasten back to Mr. Tikhomirov, who is engaging
in a general battle w ith the socialists who are convinced of the
historical in e v ita b ility of Russian capitalism.
4.
L. TIKHOM IROV IN THE BATTLE
AGAINST THE EMANCIPATION OF LABOUR GROUP
Is not the argument of its supporters (i.e., apparently, the

supporters of capitalism) based on a whole series of sophisms?"
he asks the reader.
We are referred to France, to Germany (not to England?
A certain section of the socialists" apparently did not notice that
OUR DIFFER EN CES
183
m o u n t;iin ) , where capitalism has united the workers. So capital

ism is necessary to unite ours too. That is exactly how the support
ers of slavery argue. They also refer to the role of slavery in prim
itive history, where it taught the savage to work, disciplined
the emotions of man and raised the productivity of labour. All
that is quite true. But does it follow that the missionary in Cen
tral Africa (where slavery already exists as it is, I would remind
Mr. Tikhomirov) must see that the Negroes are turned into slaves
or that the teacher must use slavish compulsion for the education
of children?
The reader will readily agree, of course, that it does not follow ,
and Mr. Tikhomirov, certain in advance of the answer, continues
his argument. At times the history of hum anity proceeds by the
most unbelievable roads. We no longer believe in the hand of God
directing every step of mankind and pointing out the swiftest and
surest road to progress. On the contrary, in history these roads
were sometimes too crooked and the most hazardous that could
be imagined. It naturally happened that a historical fact which
was harmful and delayed the development of man by some of its
aspects served the cause of progress, on the contrary, by others.
Such was the significance of slavery. But that school is not the
best nor the only one. Modern pedagogy has shown that slavish
compulsion is the worst of all methods of teaching labour....
The same thing applies to the development of large-scale produc
tion; it is permitted to doubt whether the roads of history wore
the best and the only possible ones for all times and all peoples
in that respect.... It is quite true that in the history of certain
European peoples, capitalism, although it gave risp to a mass
of evils and misfortunes, nevertheless had something good as one
of its consequences, namely, the creation of large-scale production,
by means of which it prepared tho ground, to a certain extent"
(?!), "for socialism. But it does not follow from this that other coun
tries, for instance Russia, could not have other ways of developing
large-scale production.... All this compels us to think lhat the
mode of socialisation of labour which capitalism was capable of is
one of the worst, because, although in many respects it actually
prepares the possibility of the socialist system, at the same time,
by other aspects it postpones in many respects the moment of
its advent. Thus, capitalism , together w ith the mechanical union
of the workers, develops competition among them, which under
mines lheir moral unity; in exactly the same way it tends to keep
the workers at a much lower level of development than is possible
according to the general condition of culture; in the same way too.
it directly disaccustoms the workers from any control over the
general course of production, etc. A ll these harmful aspects of
capitalist socialisation of labour do not irremediably undermine
184
G. P LEKHANOV
the significance of its positive aspects, but at any rate they put
into the wheel of history a lot of thick spokes which doubtlessly
delay its movement, towards the socialist system.
It is not w ithout a purpose that 1 have made this long excerpt
from Mr. T ikhom irovs article. These very pages show us the
original side of the philosophical and historical theory of our
author. In a controversy with Engels. P. N. Tkachov betrayed
the West , so to speak, to his West European opponent. Your
theories are based on Western relations, mine on our Russian rela
tions; you are right as far as Western Europe is concerned, I, as
far as Russia is concerned," said every line of his Open Letter".
Mr. Tikhomirov goes further. From the standpoint of his pure"
Russian reason he criticises the course of West European develop
ment and carries on an inquiry about the lot of thick spokes
which have been put into the wheel of history and doubtlessly
delay its movement towards the socialist system . He is apparently
convinced that a characteristic of history is independent move
ment towards the socialist system , completely irrespective of
the relationships created by this or that period, in the present
case, the period of capitalism. The latte rs rolo in this movement
of history is secondary and even rather doubtful. Although in
many respects it actually prepares the possibility of the socialist
system, at the same time capitalism by other aspects postpones
the moment of its advent . But what communicates this move
ment to history? For Mr. Tikhomirov no longer believes in the
hand of God winch could have successfully solved the questionfatal for his philosophy of historyof the first impulse. What
a pity that this original theory gives the impression oT some
thing not fully expressed, not fully defined.
Ah, this Mr. Tikhomirov! As we see, he likes to talk about im
portant matters! Indeed, it is not a laughing matter, this convic
tion that at times history proceeds by the most unbelievable
roads , this assurance that these roads were sometimes too crooked
and the most hazardous that could be imagined! He w ill probably
soon imagine , if he has not already done so, another road to so
cialism for the West to o one not so crooked or so hazardous as
the road followed by the countries which gave the world Newton,
Hegel, Darwin, and Marx, but unfortunately showed too much
light-headed ness in straying far from Holy Russia and her exceptionalist theories. Apparently it is not without a purpose that
Mr. Tikhomirov states that it is permitted to doubt whether
the roads of history were the best., etc., in that respect (i.e., in
respect of the transition to socialism). Do not be embarrassed at
the modesty of this doubt! Here Mr. Tikhomirov is dealing with
the famous question whether our world is the best lhat could be
imagined or whether it suffers from some hazardousness. One
OHH DIFFER EN CES
185-
cannot but regret that our author confines his study de optim o
inundo to the single field of history. He would probably bring
his readers to the pious doubt whether the course of our planets
development is the best that could be im agined. It would be
interesting to know whether maitre Pangloss, the former teacher
of metaphysico-theologo-cosmologo-nihology of the Westphalian
castle of Tunder-ten-Tronk,144 is still alive. The honourable doctor,
we know, was an optim ist and proved, not without success, that
the roads of history were the best that could be im agined.
If asked the famous question whether the history of Roman cul
ture could dispense w ith Ihe violence suffered by the virgin Lucretia 145 he would naturally have answered in the negative. Mr. T i
khomirov is a sceptic and considers it permitted to doubt the
correctness of Pangloss' answer to that question. Sextus feat
will probably seem hazardous to him and the worst that could
he imagined. Such disagreement could be the occasion for great
and very edifying philosophical debates for posterity.
For us who have but little interest in the possible history of the
possible West of a possible Europe and are completely indifferent to
the historical roads that can be im agined by this or that idle
metaphysician, it is an im portant circumstance that Mr. Tikho
mirov has not understood the meaning and significance of one
of the most im portant periods of the real history of the real West
of real Europe, llis appraisal of capitalism would not satisfy
even the most extreme Slavophiles, who long ago cast their
Eastern anathema on the whole of Western history. That appraisal
abounds in the most blatant logical contradictions. On one page
of What Can We Expect from the Revolution? we read about the
mighty culture of Europe , a culture which gives thousands of
means to rouse the curiosity of the savage, develop his require
ments, electrify him m orally", etc., and on the next page we,
Russian savages, who have been electrilied morally by these
lines, are immediately plunged into the cold water of the scepti
cism mentioned above. It appears that 'capitalism , although it
gave rise to a mass of evils and misfortunes, nevertheless had
something good as one of its consequences, namely, the creation
of large-scale production, by means of which it prepared the
ground, to a certain extent, for socialism .* Everything compels
Mr. Tikhomirov to think that the method of socialisation of labour
which capitalism was capable of is one of the worst, and so on.
iRriefly, Mr. Tikhomirov, when faced with the question of the
historic role of capitalism , is just as bewildered as the famous gener
al faced with the question: whether the Earth is a sphere:
* |Italics by Plekhanov.]
18
G. PLEK H A N O V
The Earth is round, they say

That I'm ready to admit.
Although it's bad form, anyway.
That on a ball I have to live.)*
Under the influence of this sceptical philosophy a mass of
unsolved questions have appeared in our country. We ask whether
the mighty culture of Europe existed in the pre-capitalist peri
od, and if not, whether it does not owe its rise to capitalism; or
in the opposite event, why does Mr. Tikhomirov only mention
large-scale production incidentally, attributing to it only the
' mechanical union of the workers. If the Egyptian Pharaoh
Cheops m echanically united hundreds of thousands of workers
to build his pyram id, is his role in the history of Egypt similar
to that of capitalism in the history of the West? The difference
seems to us to be only one of quantity; let us assume that Cheops
succeeded in mechanically uniting" far fewer workers, but, on
the other hand, he probably gave rise to a lesser mass of evils
and misfortunes. W hat is Mr. T ikhom irovs opinion on that? In
just the same way the Rom an latifu n d ia, by their mechanical
union of the workers chained in gangs, gave rise to a mass of
evils and misfortunes but probably prepared the ground, to a
certain extent", for the transition of ancient society to socialism?
W h at will the same Mr. Tikhom irov say? In his article we find
no answer to that question, and
Die Brust voli Wehmuth,
Das H aupt voli Zweifel...Ui
we are forced to turn to the writers of the West. W ill they dispel
our doubts?
THE HISTORICAL ROLE OF CAPITALISM
The bourgeoisie (and consequently capitalism , is it not so,

Mr. Tikhomirov?), historically, has played a most revolutionary
part, we read in the Communist Manifesto,
The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put
an end to till feudal, patriarchal, id y llic relations. I t has pitilessly
torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his natural
superiors , and has left rem aining no other nexus between man and
man than naked self-interest, than callous cash paym ent . It has
drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chiv*
INote to the 1905 edition.) I omitted the lines included in brackets
in the lirst edition on the advice of V. I. Zasulich, who thought them too
harsh. It is to be hoped now that their harshness will do no harm and I have
rostored them. G. P.
OUR DIFFER EN CES
187
iilrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water

of egotistical calculation....
The bourgeoisie lias disclosed how it came to pass that the
brutal display of vigour in the M iddle Ages, which Reactionists
so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most sloth
ful indolence. It has been the first to show what m ans activity
can bring about. It lias accomplished wonders far surpassing
Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it
has conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former Exo
duses of nations and crusades.
The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolution
ising ihe instruments of production, and thereby the relations of
production, and with them the whole relations of society. Con
servation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on
the contrary, the first condition of existence for all earlier indus
trial classes. Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupt
ed disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty
and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier
ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, w ith their train of ancient
and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all newformed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. A ll that
is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at
Inst compelled to faeo w ith sober senses, his real conditions of
life, and his relations w ith his k in d ....
The bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of the world mar
ket given a cosmopolitan character to production and consumption
in every country. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has drawn
from under the foot of industry the national ground on which it
stood. All old-established national industries have been destroyed
or are daily being destroyed. They are dislodged by new industries,
whose introduction becomes a life and death question for all
civilised nations, by industries that no longer work up indigenous
raw material, but raw material drawn from the remotest zones;
industries whose products are consumed, not only at home, but
in every quarter of the globe. In place of the old wants, satisfied
by the productions of the country, we find new wants, requiring
for their satisfaction the products of distant lands and climes.
In place of the old local and national seclusion and self-sufficiency,
we have intercourse in every direction, universal interdependence
of nations. And as in material, so also in intellectual production.
The intellectual creations of in div id u a l nations become common
property. National one-sidedness and narrow-mindedness become
more and more impossible, and from the numerous national and
local literatures, there arises a world literature.
The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments
of production, by the immensely facilitated means of communica
188
G. P LEKHANOV
tion, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation.
The cheap prices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with
which it hatters down all Chinese walls, w ith which it forces the
barbarians intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate.
It compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt the bour
geois mode of production; it compels them to introduce what it
calls civilisation into their m idst, i.e., to become bourgeois them
selves. In one word, it creates a world after its own image.
The bourgeoisie has subjected the country to the rule of the
towns. It has created enormous cities, has greatly increased the
urban population as compared w ith the rural, and has thus res
cued a considerable part of the population from the idiocy of
rural life. Just as it has made the country dependent on the towns
so it has made barbarian and semi-barbarian countries dependent
on the civilised ones, nations of peasants on nations of bourgeois,
the East on the W est...,
The bourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years,
has created more massive and more colossal productive forces
than have all preceding generations together. Subjection of na
tures forces to man, machinery, application of chemistry to indus
try and agriculture, steam-navigation, railways, electric tele
graphs, clearing of whole continents for cultivation, canalisation
of rivers, whole populations conjured out of the groundwhat
earlier century had even a presentiment that such productive
forces slumbered in the lap of social labour ? 147
That is how Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, revolutionaries
by logic and by feeling, understand capitalism . And how do intel
ligent and educated conservatives understand it?
Almost in the same way. Joint-stock undertakings (the
highest phase of capitalist development, is it not. Mr. Tikhomi
rov?)... have their historic mission, we read in one of Rodbertus
letters to R. Meyer, they are destined to complete the work of
G o d s hands, to pierce isthmuses where the A lm ighty forgot or
did not consider it opportune to do so. to lin k under the sea or
over the sea lands which it separates, to burrow through high moun
tains, etc., etc. The pyramids and the Phoenician stone construc
tions cannot be compared w ith what w ill yet be done by jointstock capital , etc. 148
Such is the general cultural and historical significance of capi
talism . But wliat is its influence, particularly on the workers,
their intellectual make-up. their moral habits?
W hat workers did capitalism have lo deal w ith at the begin
ning of its development? W hat the moral and intellectual charac
ter of this class was may bo guessed, we read in Engels work
about English weavers. Shut off from the towns... so shut off
that old people who lived quite in the neighbourhood of the town
OUR D IFFEREN CES
189
never wont thither until they were robbed of their trade by the
introduction of machinery and obliged to look about them in the
towns for w orkthe weavers stood upon the moral and intellec
tual plane of the yeomen.... They regarded their squire ... as
their natural superior; they asked advice of him , laid their small
disputes before him for settlement, and gave him all honour, as
this patriarchal relation involved__ I n short, the English industri
al workers of those days lived and thought after the fashion still
to be found here and there in Germany,* in retirement, and seclu
sion. without mental activity and without violent fluctuations in
their position in life. They could rarely read and far more rarely
write; went regularly to church, never talked politics, never con
spired, never thought, delighted in physical exercises, listened
with inherited reverence when the Bible was read, and were, in
their unquestioning h u m ility , exceedingly well-disposed towards
the superior- classes. But intellectually, they were dead (listen,
Mr. Tikhom irov);lived only for their petty, private interest, for
their looms and gardens, and knew nothing of the m ighty move
ment which, beyond their horizon, was sweeping through m ankind.
They were comfortable in their silent vegetation, and but for
the industrial revolution**" (i.e., capitalism , Mr. Tikhomirov)
'they would never have emerged from this existence, which, cosily
romantic as it was, was nevertheless not worthy of human beings.
In truth, they were not human beings; they were merely toiling
machines in the service of the few aristocrats who had guided
history down to that time. The industrial revolution has sim ply
carried this out to its logical end by m aking tho workers machines
pure and simple, taking from them the last trace of independent
activity, and so forcing them to thin k and demand a position
worthy of m en.... This industrial revolution in England tore
the workers out of their apathetic indifference to the universal
interests of mankind and drew them into the whirl of history.***
Those words are from Engels, whom bourgeois economists
accuse of having painted the condition of the workers in the pre
capitalist period in too bright colours and given too gloomy a
description of their condition in the period of capitalism. Such
accusations abound, for instance, in Bruno Hildebrands Die
Saliontiliikononiie der Gegenwart und Zukunft.
But what are the West and its pseudo-sages to us. as Mr. Aksa
kov would say; let us listen to Moses and Ihe prophets, let us read
Bakunin himself.
From the Renaissance and the Reformation right up to the
devolution, the bourgeoisie (thanks to rising capitalism ,
* W ritten in t.lie early 1840s.
** {Italics by Plekhanov.J
*** h ie Laze der arbeltenden Klasse in E ngland, S. 13-14.149
190
G. PLEK HA NO V
Mr. Tikhom irov, or not?) in Ita ly , Franco, Switzerland, Britain and

H olland, if not in Germany, was the hero and the representative
of the revolutionary genius of history. O ut of it came most of the
free thinkers in the eighteenth century, the religious reformers in
the preceding two centuries and the apostles of human emancipa
tion, among these also the German figures of the last century. The
bourgeoisie alone, leaning, of course, on the m ighty arm of the
people who had faith in it , carried out the revolution in 1789 and
1793. It proclaimed the fall of the royal power and of the Church,
the fraternity of the peoples, the rights of man and of the
citizen. Those are its rights; they are im m ortal! *
in view of these im m ortal services of West European capital
ism, Mr. Tikhomirov, the man of the East, cannot renounce his
Slavophile scorn for the West, and yawning lazily, he says that
this road of development was nevertheless not the best that
could have been imagined". In all the history of the bourgeoisie
he sees but the mass of evils and the mechanical union of the
workers. For him this union contains the whole significance
of large-scale production. Talking about slavery he still men
tions the increase in the productivity of labour that it led to, but
when he goes on to capitalism lie does not even hin t at the
gigantic means of production conjured up, which were alone
capable of preparing the victory of the proletariat! He has not
the slightest idea of the influence of capitalism on the development
of philosophy, public and private law , the philosophy of history,
natural science and literature. And yet there can be no doubt of
that influence and there was a time when Russian writers under
stood the influence of class relations in society (and what, if not
capitalism , created the class relations in contemporary society?) on
the course of development of learning in general and of philosoph
ical thought in particular. Political theories, and indeed, all
philosophical doctrines generally, have always been created under
the extremely powerful influence of the social position of their
authors, and every philosopher represented one of the political
parties struggling at that time for domination over that society to
which the philosopher belonged, says Chernyshevsky**.... Philo
sophical systems are permeated through and through with the
spirit of the political parties lo which the authors of the systems
belonged. Or does Mr. Tikhomirov presume that the political
and philosophical systems of the epoch of capitalism are inferior
to the corresponding systems of the Middle Ages? Does he think
that the theories which characterise capitalism were worse than
* Dieu et I'Etat, Geneva, 1882, pp. 92-93.
** ^lAHTpoiiojiormecKiifi npiimuin b (J)iuioco<j)HH,
Anthropological Principle in Philosophy, pp. 2-3.)160
CTp.
2-3.
|The
191
O l'K DIFFER EN CES
those which lit* himself can imagine? In that case, let him imag
ine as many of them as ho pleases, let him go on ignoring the
history of YVest European culture! In this disagreement of the
editor of Vestnik S'arodnoi Voli w ith the West, tho former loses
very much ami tho latter absolutely nothing.
ft is not Mr. Tikhom irov, however, who must be considered
as the initiator of this discord. On this question our author only
repeats what was said in various articles by Mr. V. V. who in
general is inclined, as we know, to narrow down the cultural and
historical significance of Western capitalism and, on the contrary,
to exaggerate the corresponding influence of the present Russian
authority , which has no serious opponent in society" and there
fore need not fear the factors of progress against which tho West
European governments waged a continuous war".* Examine atten
tively the volume The Destinies of Capitalism in Russia, which is
full of endless repetitions and therefore quite bulky, and you
will not find any indications of the significance of capitalism other
than references to the socialisation of labour which is in turn
identified with the union of the workers and the development
in them of some feelings or others w ith which Mr. V. V. sympa
thises. And this narrow and one-sided appreciation is wholly adopt
ed by Mr. Tikhomirov in his article; on it he bases what he
from the revolution ! Our author has forgotten, it appears,
the fine piece of advice which Lassalle gave to one of his opponents:
study, study, but not. from newspaper articles.
Russian writers are not content w ith their absurdly narrow
philosophy of the history of capitalism. They themselves analyse
this form of production and, so to speak, their own intelligence
shows them the contradictions inherent in it. But what contra
dictions! They are not solved by historical dialectics through the
old social form bei ng replaced by a new one which has grown w ith in
the former as a result, apparently, of the very logical development
of the principle underlying it. They are not the contradictions
whose historical meaning was thus expressed by Goethe:
Vernunft wird Unsinn, Wohlthat. Plage . 162
They are contradictions which have no historical meaning what
ever, and which are only the result of tin* attitude of the potty-bour
geois observer to the object of his study, an attitude which may
be described by the words: Measure ten times before cutting
your cloth. It is a kind of eclecticism which sees a good and a bad
side in everything, encourages the former and condemns the latter
and sins only by not seeing any organic lin k between the bright
*
tCyntGw KaiinTajiH3Ma b Poccim*, npefliicjiomie,
Capitalism in Russia, preface, p. f>.)161
cTp.
6. [The Destinies of
192
G. PLEK HA NO V
and darkening features of a given historical epoch. Capitalism

could have said to such critics Feuerbachs words: You condemn
my defects, but note that my good qualities are conditioned by
them. In this case the Russian writers apply to the historical
categories the method of Proudhon, who saw it as the task of
dialectics to point out the good and the evil sides of every economic
category. II veut etre la synthese, Marx wrote about him, il
est une errour composee. 183
Proudhon is said to have been once B akunins pupil. D id he not
get this method, which he shares w ith many Russian critics of
capitalism , from the one common teacher?
A b rillia n t representative of this method of composite error
can again be seen in the same Mr. Tikhom irov, who, having shown
the good side of capitalism , the union of the workers, immediately
goes on to show its shady sides. We have already seen how far
his praise of capitalism corresponds to reality. It is not surpris
ing that tho reproach he makes turns out to be completely un
founded.
Capitalism , together w ith the mechanical union of the workers,
develops competition among them, which undermines their moral
u n ity ....
Apparently Mr. Tikhomirov wants to imagine a way of tran
sition to socialism in which competition would be unknown.
Leaving aside the question of the role of competition in the exist
ence of the economic category known as the exchange value, which
brings the labour of various specialists to the common denomina
tor of simple hum an labour, without the understanding of which
conscious communist tendencies would be unthinkable, let us
give attention to the evil side of competition which our author
points out. Here we will first of all note that only what exists in
reality, n o t i n Mr. T ikhom irovs sympathies and expectations1,
can be undermined . Was there moral unity of the workers (lur
ing the pre-capitalist period? We already know there was not.
In the most flourishing period of guild production there was mor
al unity among workers of one association or, at most, of one
brunch of labour wit hin quite restricted local lim its; but the idea of
the worker as such, the consciousness of the unity of the whole of
the productive class never existed.* Capitalism undermined, dis*
Although all workers, whatever profession they belonged to, liatl
essentially the same interests," Simon said of the medieval workers' asso
ciations, "and should therefore have formed a single general association ...
instead of that, their spirit of antagonism prevailed over the spirit of asso
ciation, and division did not cease to reign among them. The struggle thM
took place between the journeymen of the different associations must have
dated to their very foundation.... Considering those deadly coinbats, which
wore provoked without cause and waged without reason, who would not 1*
OUH Dll'TKHENCES
193
rupled, removed the moral unity of patented specialists and

sol tip in its place the moral unity of working men of all countries ,
a unity which il achieved by means of competition. W hy. then,
does Mr. Tikhomirov thus attack competition? We have already
seen lhat in his opinion history has some kind of independent,
abstract movement towards the socialist system ; given such
a movement one can with im p u nity criticise all the motive
powers and springs which first compelled progressive mankind
to face with sober senses, their real conditions of life, and
their relations w ith their kind .
Capitalism tends to keep the workers at a much lower level
of development than is possible according to the general condi
tion of culture.
This sentence seems to have been taken in full from the minutes
of the Eisenach Congress of the German Katheder Sozialisten.
in whose opinion the social question comes to the question of
raising the workers to a higher level of development. Hut the
Katheder Sozialisten know what they are demanding, although, in
spile of all their efforts, they have not yet decided how to attain
their demands. They understand the epoch-making and revolution
ary significance of the modern proletariat and they want to un
dermine that significance w ith their palliatives and to impose on
the workers Modbertus motto: inonarchisch, national, sozial.
By a higher level of development they understand a somewhat
higher and better guaranteed wage, far greater narrow-mindedness
and incomparably less responsiveness in the working class. They
know that the iron law of wages154 is the death sentence for
modern society and are not against sweetening this law to repeal
the sentence. They foresee that, if affairs remain in their present
condition, llu* proletariat will soon take everything, and that is why
they are doing their utmost to force the proletariat to barter its
impending birthright for a mess of pottage. They want a bourgeoi
sie without any proletariat. But what does Mr. Tikhomirov want?
In which of the historical periods previous to capitalism did
the working class have a higher level of development than at
present? Was it in the ancient world, the epoch of slavery, or in
the Middle Ages, the epoch of serfdom? Or is Mr. Tikhomirov com
paring bourgeois society w ith the future , socialist society? If
so. then, of course, he is right in the sense that the social system of
the future historic epoch will bring m ans development into
greater conformity w ith the productive forces created by civi
leinpted to believe that the snd words of the gloomy philosopher, Man
is wolf to man , were not said oT one of these associations. Elude histarique
et morale sur le compagnonage by J. Simon, Paris, 1853, pp. 43-/i/i. It must
bo admitted thal it was very difticiill for capitalism to undermine such
h moral unity of the workers in the preceding period!
13-013^9
134
G. P LEKHANOV
lisation. B u t, not to mention that to accuse capitalism of not

being socialism means not to understand the historical genesis of
socialism, we w ill point out to Mr. Tikhomirov that by force of
habit he has got mixed up in his terminology. It is obvious that
socialist society is unthinkable w ithout people who work, but
it can be said in all probability that there w ill be no workers
under socialism; for a worker presupposes capitalist employers,
landowners, etc., just as the slave presupposed the slave-owner
and the serf the feudal lord. W hat Mr. Tikhomirov says boils
down in this case to the amazing proposition that the modern
workers are at a lower level of development than the workers in
a society in which there are no workers at all.
Or is Mr. Tikhomirov comparing the condition of the workers in
capitalist society w ith their condition under the social relation
ships that can be imagined as transitional steps to socialism?
I f so, let him imagine such relationships; we will read his
imaginings w ith great interest. But he should not be too much
infatuated w ith fiction, he should not forget that one must distin
guish between the degree and the type of culture, and that if the
degree of material culture of the present-day proletariat is not
very high, it is nevertheless a culture of a much higher type than
any which existed before. We are not even speaking of the intellec
tual and moral culture of this class, which is much higher in its
development than the productive classes of all preceding periods.
Mr. Tikhomirov should devote serious attention to this develop
ment, which cannot be replaced either by prim itive forms of land
tenure and production or by strict discipline instituted by this
or that Committee in the revolutionary organisations of raznih
chintsi.
In exactly the same way capitalism directly disaccustoms
the workers from any control over the general course of production,
etc.
Capitalism could answer this unexpected accusation with the
Russian saying: Y o u re welcome to the best we have. It cannot
teach the workers control over the general course of production"
for the simple reason that it does not know any such control
itself. Industrial crises are conditioned, among other things,
precisely by this lack of control. But, we ask, can such control
be imagined outside socialist society? Let Mr. Tikhomirov prove
that it can, and then we w ill enter into greater details with him.
Now we w ill only repeat that to accuse capitalism of not being
socialism means to accuse history of not having started immediate
ly by putting into practice the Manifesto of the Communist
Party instead of its movement towards the socialist system.
This dispute about the significance of Western capitalism may
appear completely unwarranted to many readers. It is Russia
OUR DIFFEREN CES
195
we are interested in, not the West, they w ill say; why spend so
much time on an appraisal of the historical development of the
West? Even if Mr. Tikhomirov has overlooked some things, and
got mixed up in a thing or two over this question, what relation
has that to our domestic matters?
The most direct relation. Mr. Tikhomirov criticises Western
capitalism for the completely definite practical purpose of work
ing out a programmo for the Russian social-revolutionary party.
He expects certain blessings from the revolution , on the
basis, by the way, of his appraisal of West European history.
If his appraisal is correct, then his expectations are grounded;
if, on the contrary, this appraisal reveals complete ignorance of
the history of the West and of the methods of contemporary philo
sophical and historical criticism, then his very expectations
prove* to be completely unfounded. That is why 1 have devoled
many pages to unravelling this confusion which found so comfort
able room in two pages (238 and 239) of the second issue of
Vestnik. When wo have dealt with it, we can go on to Russian
questions.
(i. THE DEVELOPMENT OF CAPITALISM
IN THE WEST
Dont idolise private business capital, exclaims Mr. Tikho

mirov on his return from one of his philosophical-historical excur
sions; the more so as there s till remains the great question wheth
er such capital w ill be able to do for Russia even that (!) which
it did for Europe. Our present condition differs considerably from
that of the European countries at the moment when they began
to organise national production on the basis of private capital.
There the private businessman was provided with extensive mar
kets and encountered no particularly terrible competition. But
we have absolutely no markets and in everything he undertook
the private businessman encountered insuperable competition from
European and American production . 1*6
All these arguments of our author are again not his, they are
borrowed from Mr. V. V. B ut, without going into their genealogy,
let us examine how serious they are. Here again we are faced with
a difficult and thankless task lhat of unravelling the most un
believable muddle of facts and concepts.
First of all, we ask Mr. Tikhomirov why he attacks private
business capital and does not mention other forms of the same
business capital. W hy does he, to use Rodbertus expression, pre
fer blondes to brunettes? Does he think that state business capital
in the hands of the Iron Chancellor is better than private capital
in lhe hands of Borsig or Krupp?
13*
G. P LEKHANOV
Or is he opposing private business capital to the same capital

belonging to workers associations? W hy, in that case, did he
not make the reservation that his sympathy for business capital
not belonging to private individuals extends only to one variety
of that capital? And indeed, can one have sympathy for this
variety without new and very substantial reservations?
German 158 Social-Democracy demands state credit for workers'
associations, but it knows by experience that these can be success
ful, i.e., not degenerate into exploiters of other peoples labour,
only on condition that they are strictly controlled on the basis
of socialist principles. Workers socialist parties can and must
be representative of such a control. Thus, whoever speaks of state
credit for workers' associations either speaks of strengthening
the influence of the workers party or suggests a measure capable
of resulting in splitting the proletariat and strengthening the
influence of the bourgeoisie or the government. Mr. V. V. is
not afraid of the latter outcome, and that is why he fearlessly
addresses his projects of reform to the existing authority. Mr.
Tikhom irov is one of the irreconcilable enemies of absolutism
and at the same time is very sceptical of the possibilities of a
bourgeois regime and a workers socialist party coming to exist in
our country. Hence his plans for the institution of workers' in
dustrial associationsplans, however, about which we can only
make surmises, thanks to his confused terminology belong to the
more or less distant future when the seizure of power by the
revolutionaries will be the starting-point of the revolution.
As we shall have a lot to say about this seizure and its possible
consequences, we will not stop here to consider the conditions
under which Russian workers industrial associations can promote
the cause of socialism. Now, however, having pointed out to
Mr. Tikhomirov his lack of clarity and definition in the economic
terminology, let us go on to his historical contrasts.
There would be no doubt, if the formulation were, at least tol
erable, that our present condition differs considerably from that
of the European countries at the moment when they began to or
ganise national production on the basis of private capital. Any
schoolboy knows that no two facts in the whole of history have
been accomplished under exactly identical conditions; it is there
fore not surprising that every historical period in each country
differs considerably from the corresponding period in any other
country. But as a consequence of this, we may say a priori that
the stereotyped contrasting of Russia with the West loses all
human meaning if it is not accompanied by a number of reserva
tions, amendments and additions, since by Western Europe we
mean not one single country but many greatly differing ones.
Mr. Tikhomirov sees no necessity for these additions, lie contrasts
OUR DIF FEREN CES
197
the "present. condition of Russia with the moment in the history

of "the European countries when they began to organise national
production on the basis of private capital. But not to mention
(hat one cannot organise national production on the basis of pri
vate capital" and that complete anarchy, i.e.. the absence of any
organisation, is a characteristic feature of national production
in capitalist countries; forgiving Mr. Tikhomirov these blunders
in logic and terminology, we w ill ask him whether the foundation
of capitalist production was laid at a single moment in the
European countries. Wore there not, on the contrary, just as
many moments as there were European countries engaging on
the road of capitalism? And if so, did not those historical moments
differ considerably one from another? Was th e . beginning
uf English capitalism like the beginning of capitalism in Germa
ny? As fur as we know, it was by no means alike, so unlike that
at one lime in Germany, too, the opinion was held thal the coun
try completely lacked the conditions for developing large-scale
manufacturing industry and would have to remain for ever an
agrarian country. Those w'ho held that opinion based il on the
very fact that the present" condition of Germany differed
considerably', etc. W hat has Mr. Tikhom irov to say about this
queslion in general and about these false prophets in particular?
In the pamphlet Socialism and ihe Political Struggle 1 spoke
of those Russian writers who are supporters of the geographical
school founded by the Jewish boy in W einbergs story. Russian
writers, propagandists of exceptionalism, I wrote, introduced
only one new thing into lhat clever geographical classification
of Ihe poor schoolboy: they divided abroad into East and West*
and, not slopping long to think, began lo compare ihe latter with
Hussia, which was ascribed the role of a kind of M iddle E m pire.
When 1 wrote those lines it did not even occur to me that such
absurdities could be repeated in a publication edited, incidentally,
by P. L. Lavrov. Now 1 see that Lavrov's co-edilor is among
the followers of the Jewish boy and heaps together, in a moment
of some kind imagined by himself, quite a number of highly
complicated and considerably different historical phenomena.
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli was apparently fated to disappoint Ihe
ex peel at ions of its readers in many, many respects!
In this case, however, there is an attenuating circumstance for
Mr. Tikhomirov. He was led into his mistake by the conviction
lhat in (ho European countries at a historical moment with
which we are already fam iliar the private businessman was pro
vided with extensive markets and encountered no particularly
terrible competition whereas we have practically no markets .
Were this correct, his contrast between Russia and the West would
be sufficiently well founded. No matter how greatly the conditions
198
G. PLEK HA NO V
under which capitalism arose differed in each of the European

countries, they would have had in common one feature of the
highest importance not repeated in contemporary Russia: the
presence of extensive markets for the disposal of wares. This
circumstance, which was favourable to the European countries,
would have given a completely different colouring to the economic
history of the West. The trouble is that Mr. Tikhomirov, or rather
the author of the articles from which he derived his conviction,
was cruelly mistaken. In the countries referred to, the private
businessman was not provided w ith any extensive markets
at all. The bourgeoisie created the markets, they did not find
them ready-made. In tho feudal aud handicrafts period which had
preceded, not only were there no extensive markets , there were
no markets at all in the modern sense of the word; at that time
only surpluses were exchangedwhat remained after the produc
ers' own consumption and the handicraftsmen worked to order
for a specified person in a specified locality, and not for the mar
ket. Nobody who has even the slightest understanding of the
economic relations in the Middle Ages w ill dispute that. In the same
way everybody, even if he has not been trained in a seminary, will
understand that demand, and with it markets, could only appear
side by side with production, as they were called for by the latter
and in their turn called for it. Most often, needs arise directly
from production or from a state of affairs based on production.
W orld trade turns almost entirely round the needs, not of indi
vidual consumption, but of production.* But the modern, indeed
extensive , world market is characterised precisely by the fact
that not consumption calls forth production, but the other way
round. Large-scale industry, forced by the very instruments at
its disposal to produce on an ever-increasing scale, can no longer
wait for demand. Production precedes consumption, supply com
pels demand.**
For brevitys sake we may adm it as indisputable that Western
Europe encountered no particularly terrible competition during
the period when capitalism arose, although the not unfrequent
prohibitions of imports to European countries of Eastern indus
try's products during that period show that indeed the manu
factories in the West feared competition from Asia. But the par
ticularly terrible rivals of West European producers were the
West European producers themselves. This w ill cease to seem
paradoxical if we remember that capitalism by no means began
to develop at one and the same moment in the different Euro
pean countries, as Mr. Tikhomirov thinks. When industrial
* Mis'ere de la philosophic, p. IB.157
** Ibid ., p. 48.158
OUR DIFFEREN CES
199
development reached a certain level in one of those countries, when

tho representatives of capital attained such power and influence
lhat they could make legislation an instrument to further
their purposes, it turned out lhat in everything he undertook
the private businessman encountered insuperable competition"
from neighbouring countries. Then agilation for slate intervention
began. The history of the seventeenth century with its tariffs, which
were the object of diplom atic negotiations, and its trade wars,
which necessitated colossal expenditures for those times, is a
tangible proof of the enormous efforts that the European coun
tries" had to make to acquire the markets which are said to have
been ready-mado for them. It was a question not only of w inning
foreign markets, but of defending the home market too. Is there
any need to illustrate by examples a history which seems to be
generally known? Perhaps it w ill not be superfluous in view of the
ignorance of our home-grown and exceptionalist economists. Let
us begin with France.
Colbert saw that Franco was im porting from abroad far more
goods than she was exporting, that in spite of the existence of the
Tours and Lyons manufactories, Italy was continuing to supply
silk wares, gold and silver fabrics, and gold yarn; that Venice
was getting m illions from her annually for mirrors and lace; that
England, Holland and Spain were supplying her with woollen
goods, spices, dyes, hides and soap.... Ho saw ... that the large
companies and colonies which Richelieu had tried to set up were
ruined and that all France's sea trade was still in the hands of
the English and the Dutch. In order to hinder this overrunning
of French ports Fouquet had already placed a tax of fifty sous on
every ton of goods brought in foreign ships and constant com
plaints from the Dutch proved to Colbert that his predecessor had
dealt them a heavy blow. Such was the situation. Colbert set
himself tho aim of changing it in Frances favour, of freeing Ihe
conntry from all trade subjection and raising it by industrial
development to the level of tho more prosperous nations, etc.*
He set about the matter with such diligence that his direct inten
tion was to annihilate Dutch trade by the 1667 tariff. The
English and Dutch countered in like manner, the tariff dispute
was the occasion for the 1672 war, and finally, the Peace of Nymwegen159 compelled France to restore the 1664 tariff.**
We see that France was by no means provided w ith exten
sive markets, she had to win them by the appropriate economic
policy, diplom atic negotiations and even arms. Colbert relied
*
Levasseur, Histoire des classes ouvri'eres en France, Vol. 2, pp. 174-75.
** See Henry W. Farnam, Die innere framosische Gewerbcpolitik von
Colbert bis Turgot, S. 17.
200
G. P LEKHANOV
only on time and great diligence, (hanks to which France would

be able, he thought, to become the teacher of the nations which
had taught her lessons.
We know that Frances protection and prohibition policy did
not end with the influence of Colbert any more than it had owed
him its beginning. Not u n til after the Peace of Versailles160 did
1 he French Government take the first step towards free trade
in 178G. But this attempt did not favour French industry. By an
agreement with England in 1786 each of the contracting countries
imposed a duty of only 1 2 per cent of the cost price on woollen
and cotton fabrics, porcelain, pottery and glass wares, of 1 0 per
cent on metal goods iron, steel, copper, etc.; flax and hemp fabrics
were taxed according to the tariff fixed for the most favoured
countries; but England, being able to produce these goods 30. 40,
or 50 per cent cheaper than the French manufacturers, soon became
the mistress on the French market. That was why in 1789 the elec
tors almost unanimously demanded a more energetic protection
of French industry. The governments of the Restoration and the
Ju ly monarchy also adhered to a strictly protectionist tariff. To
guarantee the sale of French wares the colonies were forbidden to
trade with any country but the metropolitan country. Not until
I860 was there a turn in favour of free trade, but even this aroused
great opposition in the country and was censured, incidental
ly, by Proudhon. Finally, as recently as 1877, fear of English
competition moved the protectionists to form the Association
for the Protection of National Labour. The 1882 tariff was a
compromise between demands for protection and the desire for
free trade displayed m ainly by the representatives of commercial
capital.*
Such is the history of the extensive markets that were at
the disposal of the French capitalists. lia s Mr. Tikhomirov heard
of it?
And what about Germany, to which our author is referred
by a certain section of the socialists?
Here matters stood no belter. Here too, in everything he
undertook the private businessman encountered insuperable
competition from the more progressive countries. We know that
the appearance of German capitalism was relatively recent. Not
only in the last century, but even at the beginning of this, com
petition with France or England was out of the question for
Germany. Let us take Prussia as an example. In 1800, Prussia
absolutely prohibited the import of silk, semi-silk and cotton
fabrics. In the preceding eighty years the government had spent
* See I/istoire du commerce fraiifais par Ch. Perigot, Paris, 1884.
OUR DIFFER EN CES
201
more tlian ten in il I ion taler only on silk factories in Berlin, Potsdani. Frankfort on the Oder and Kopenick (from which Mr.
Tikhomirov can clearly see that not the Russian Government alone
displayed efforts to organise" national production according to
bourgeois principles). R ut French and English wares were so
much better than the Prussian that, the prohibition of imports was
evaded by smuggling, which no severe legislative measures could
stop. Napoleons victory deprived Prussia of the possibility of
saving her manufactories by a wall of prohibitive tariffs. W ith
Ihe invasion by the French army, French goods began to glut the
markets in the conquered territories. At the beginning of December
1806, the invaders demanded the admission of French goods at
low customs tariffs to all parts of the territory occupied by French
troops. In vain did Ihe Prussian Government draw their attention
lo the local industrys inability to hold out against competition
from French manufacturers. It. tried in vain lo prove thal the
Berlin manufacturers had held their own only thanks lo protec
tion tariffs, with Ihe abolition of which the population would
be irremediably impoverished and the factory workers would be
completely ruined. Bourgeois France's victorious generals answered
that the import of French goods was Ihe natural result of the
conquest. Thus, side by side with the governments political
struggle there proceeded the economic struggle of the nations, or
more exactly of those sections of the nations in whose hands the
means of production are still concentrated. Side by side with Ihe
struggle of the armies was the struggle of Ihe manufacturers;
alongside the warfare of the generals was the competition of com
modities. The French bourgeoisie needed to gain control of a new
market, and the Prussian bourgeoisie did all in lheir power to
safeguard the market (hey owed to protection tariffs. Where,
then, were the ready-made extensive markets? When, after the
declaration of war in 1813, the Prussian industrialists wen* at
last freed from lheir French rivals, they found themselves faced by
new and still more dangerous opponents. The fall of the conti
nental system gave English goods access to the European markets.
Prussia was glutted with them. Their cheapness made it impossi
ble for the local producers lo compete with them in view of the
low customs dues imposed on goods from friendly and neutral
countries. Complaints from the Prussian industrialists again
forced the government to lim it imports of at least cotton goods.*
From then on until this very day the Government of Prussia, and
indeed of Germany as a whole, has not ventured to waive protec
tive tariffs for fear of insuperable competition from more advanced
* Die ntuere Xationaliikonontie von Dr. Moritz Meyer.
202
G. PLEK HA NO V
countries. And if the Russian Blanquists seize power while Bis

marck is still alive, the Iron Chancellor w ill probably not refuse
to reveal to them the secret of his trade policy and w ill convince
our journalists that extensive markets do not and never did
grow on trees.
Let us pass on to America.
In respect of industry the North American colonies were held
in such complete dependence by the metropolitan country that
they were to have no kind of industry except domestic production
and the usual crafts. In 1750 a hat factory founded in Massachusetts
so attracted the attention of Parliament and was the object of
such jealousy on its part that factories of all kinds (in the colonies,
of course) were declared common nuisances. As late as 1770 the
great Chatham, perturbed by the first attempts at factory produc
tion in New England, said that not a single nail was to be made
in the colonies. 161 During the W ar of Independence, thanks to the
rupture w ith England, factories of all kinds received a strong
impulse and this, in turn, influenced agriculture and led to an
increase in the price of land. But as, after the Peace of Paris,
the constitution of the states preventod elaboration of a general
trade system and thus gave free access to English manufactures
with which the newly b u ilt North American factories could not
compete, the countrys industrial prosperity disappeared even
more rapidly than it appeared. On the advice of the new theoreti
cians, a speaker in Congress said later, referring to this crisis,
we purchased where it was cheaper for us and our markets were
glutted w ith foreign goods.... Our manufacturers were ruined,
our merchants went bankrupt and all this had such a harmful
effect on agriculture that a general devaluation of land followed
and as a result bankruptcy became common among landowners
too. 1B2
Hence we see that a threat once hung also over American pro
duction, whose insuperable competition now threatens the Russian
private businessman. W hat lightning-rods did the Americans
invent? Were they convinced by this that their situation differed
considerably from that of the European countries at the moment
when they began to organise national production on the basis of
private capital? Did they renounce large-scale industry? Not
in the least. Taught by bitter experience, they merely repeated
the old story of protecting the home market against foreign com
petition. Congress was stormed by all states w ith petitions for
protective measures favouring local industry", and as early as
1789 a tariff was proclaimed making considerable concessions in
this direction to local manufacturers. The 1804 tariff went still
further along this path, and in the end, after a few vacillations in
the opposite direction, the rigorous protection tariff of 1828
OUR DIF FEREN CES
203
finally guaranteed American producers against English competi

tion.*
;
Once more, where were tho extensive markets that Mr. T ikho
mirov speaks of? I completely agree that the course of develop
ment of West European capitalism which he indicates must be
acknowledged as more straight and less hazardous; what risk
dr.es t he "private businessman" run when he is provided with exten
sive markets? But Mr. Tikhomirov, on his side, must agree that
he. or rather his teacher, imagined this course of development,
for (he sh Ico of a doctrine and that it has nothing in common w ith the
true history of the West. The matter proceeds so differently there
that Friedrich List even establishes a particular law according
lo which each country can come out in the struggle on the world
market- only when it has allowed its industry to strengthen by
mastering the home market. In his opinion, the transition of
every nation from the wild state to that of herdsmen and from the
state of herdsmen to that of tillers of land and the early beginnings
in agriculture are best effected by free trade. Then the tran
sition of agrarian peoples to the class of simultaneously agri
cultural, manufacturing and trading nations could take place under
frei! trade only if, in all nations called upon to develop manufac
turing power, one and the same vital process took place at one and
the same lime, if nations raised no obstacles whatsoever to each
other's economic development and if they did not impede each
other's success by war and customs systems. But as the nations
which had attained superiority in manufactures, trade and navi
gation saw that success as the most effective means of acquiring
and consolidating political influence over other nations, they
(i.e., the advanced nations) strove to set up institutions which
were and still are calculated to guarantee their own monopoly
in manufactures and trade and to prevent backward nations from
succeeding. The aggregate of these institutions (import prohibi
tion and customs dues upon imports, restrictions on shipping,
premiums for exports, and so on) is called the customs system.
Under the influence of tho earlier successes of other nations, the
customs system of foreign countries and wars, the backward nations
find themselves forced to seek at home means for the transition
from the agrarian to the manufacturing condition; they are ob
liged to restrict trade with the advanced countriessince il hin
ders that transition by their own customs system. The latter
is therefore by no means an invention of speculative brains, as
some maintain, but the natural consequence of the nations desire
*
See Das nationals System der politischen Okonomle, von Friedrich List,
zwcite A ullage, 1842, B. I, Kap. 5). Cf. also Geschichte der N ationalokonomie,
von Eiscnhart, II I . Ruch, 2. Kapil.nl.
204
G. PLEK H A N O V
to guarantee themselves lasting existence and progress or even

dom inating influence. But this wish can be recognised as legiti
mate and reasonable only inasmuch as it does not hinder the econom
ic development of the nation displaying it, but, on the contrary,
promotes it and does not contradict lhe higher aim of hum anity
the future! world confederation.*
These words are from Friedrich List, who understood well the
interests of German capitalism in his time and whose only fault
was a certain pompousness in the definition of the future higher
aims of hum anity which for the bourgeoisie boil down not t<< a
world federation but to a fierce struggle on the world market.
List was embarrassed neither by the accusation that his views
were obsolete nor by the reference to the impossibility of Germanys
securing any favourable opportunities in the future struggle
on the world market. To the first objection he replied that he
was not at all an unconditional enemy of free trade, for he demand
ed only temporary restrictions of it, and at the same time stood
for free trade w ith in the lim its of the German customs union. To
the second he replied by criticising the very theory of markets,
or rather the conditions of their acquisition. He pointed out that
the backward countries may and must form alliances with one
another to fight jointly Iheir stronger enemies and that those
backward countries must strive to acquire colonies of their own.
Every industrial nation must strive to have direct exchange with
the countries in the torrid zone; if all second-rate manufacturing
nations understand llieir own interests they must act in such a
way that no nation can acquire overwhelming influence in respect
of colonial possessions.** He supported the possibility of acquiring
new colonies by pointing out that up to then a great number of
convenient places in the torrid zone had not been utilised in this
way by Europeans.
At the time when List was agitating, many people doubted
the possibility of a large-scale manufacturing industry being devel
oped in Germany. Now nobody doubts this, but the programme
of economic policy which he suggested has not yet been finally
carried out. The question of acquiring colonies is only now being
raised in Germany. Reality has surpassed his expectations. One
part of his programme has sufficed to consolidate German largescale industry.
Not only does no sceptic now ask whether a large-scale manu
facturing industry is possible in L ists country, but Mr. Tikhomi
rov is referred among other things to Germany, where capi
talism united the workers and private businessmen are al
* Das nationale System, etc., S.
** List, ibid., S. 560-61.
18-19.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
205
leged to have been provided with extensive markets. H.o\v much

(hat country's lirst difficult steps on the road of capitalism have
been forgotten! But is il a long time since List wrote? No more
than half a century, no more than five limes as long as the Rus
sian Blanquists have been making fruitless efforts lo seize
power. What if Marx and Engels and their followers, convinced
that the people must be taken as they are and that Ihe German
Communists of tho forties still needed, to use Mr. Tikhomirov's
picturesque expression, only to set about the creation of the
class in whose name they wished to act; what if Marx and Engels,
I say, had given the West up as lost and decided that the
starting-point of the social revolution in Germany had to be
"Ihe seizure of power by the forces of the then existing Commu
nist League? 1"11 W hat if they had directed all their work towards
lluil aim? Would German Social-Democrac.y have got far by
now? And yet the question of such a seizure of power is by no
means an exclusive feature of the Russian movement. It was
raised even in the Communist League and caused its splitting
into two groups: Marx and Engels on one side, W illich and Schapper on the other.
The story of this division is so instructive that it is worth
relating to the readers. 164
Since the defeat of the 1848-49 Revolution, the party of the
proletariat on the continent was deprived of all lhat it had during
that short period freedom of the press, of expression anil of
association, i.e.. the legal means of organising a party. After
1849. as before 1848, there was only one road open to the proletar
iatthe road of secret societies__ The immediate aim of one
section of those societies was to overthrow the existing state
power. That was timely in France, where the proletariat had been
defeated by the bourgeoisie and where attacks on the existing
government were equivalent to attacks on the bourgeoisie. Anoth
er section of these secret societies was working in countries
such as Germany where the bourgeoisie and the proletariat were
both subjected by their semi-feudal governments, and where,
therefore, a successful attack on the existing governments, instead
of breaking the power of the bourgeoisie or of Ihe so-called middle
classes, had first, to help them to power in such countries the
progressive representatives of the proletariat, while not refusing
to take part in the impending revolution, saw as their immediate
aim not to seize power, but to prepare the working-class party
of Ihe future1. Such, by the way, was the aim of the Communist
League, in which Marx and Engels played the leading role. The
Communist League was not therefore a society of conspirators
hut a society which aimed at the secret organisation of the prole
tariat, because the German proletariat was under an interdict.
206
G. PLEK HA NO V
was deprived of the fire and uater, of press, expression and

association. It goes w ithout saying that activity which had in
view the establishment not of a governmental but of an opposi
tional party of the future", had exerted little attraction on people
intellectually backward and im patient, and accordingly a group
broke off from the Communist League, demanding, if not actual
conspiracies, at least a conspiratorial appearance and a direct
alliance w ith the democratic heroes of the day . The motives
of this split, which many people ascribed to personal quarrels
between the leaders of the two groups, were explained as follows
by the very actors in these events.
According to Marx, the m inority (the W illic h and Schapper
group) replace the critical outlook by a dogmatic one, the materi
alist by the idealist. They take their own w ill instead of the
existing relations for the principal revolutionary motive force.
Whereas we say to the workers: you must still pass through 15,
20, or 50 years of civil war and popular movements, and this
not only to change existing relations but to re-educate yourselves
and become capable of being the dominant party, the minor
ity , on the contrary, say: we must win supremacy at this very
moment or we shall be unable lo do anything other than sit back
and relax. Whereas we point out to the German workers the
undeveloped condition of the German proletariat, you flatter the
national feeling and estate prejudices of the German craftsman*
in the vilest way, this, of course, being a far more popular
method.... Like the democrats, you replace revolutionary develop
ment by revolutionary phrases, etc.. etc.
Schapper, for his part, formulated his outlook as follows:
I did in fact express the outlook attacked here, becauso gener
ally I support it w ith enthusiasm. The question is: will we
start to chop off heads, or w ill ours be chopped off? First the work
ers in France w ill rise, then we in Germany. Otherwise I would,
in fact, sit back and relax. But if our plans are fulfilled, we shall
be able to take steps to guarantee the supremacy of the proletar
iat (as Mr. Tikhomirov promises steps to guarantee government
by the people for Russia, we w ill remark). I am a fanatical
supporter of this view, but the Central Committee" (Marxs group)
wishes the opposite , etc.
This dispute took place on September 15, 1850, when the final
break between the two groups occurred. Each of them set about
its work. W illic h and Schapper began to prepare to seize power,
*
However, it is hardly possible that even the Schapper group has ever
published a proclamation like the famous one in Ukrainian on lhe occasion
of the nnti-Jewish disorders, a proclamation with which the editors of Narod
naya Volya declared their complete solidarity and which was the vilest
flattery of national prejudices of the Russian people.1*5
OUR D IFFEREN CES
207
Marx and Engels continued lo prepare the oppositional party

of the future. Fifteen years went by and that party of the future
became a throat to the bourgeoisie in all nations and countries;
the views of the authors of the Manifesto of the Communist Party
were assimilated by tens of thousands of workers. And what
did W illich and Schapper do? Did they succeed in immediately
seizing power? We all know they did not, but not all know that
the same fanatic Schapper was soon convinced of the impossi
bility of carrying out his plans and even many years later, a day
before his death, when he was already on his death-bed he could
not speak of his unsuccessful ventures without bitter irony' .*
Groups of the Willich-Schapper type are the natural result of
undeveloped social relationships. They appear and may have
a certain success as long as the proletariat is undeveloped and
during its first, attempts to achieve its emancipation. The rev
olutionary literature that accompanied these first movements
of the proletariat had necessarily a reactionary character, as the
Manifesto of the Communist Party says. When, under the influence
of more highly developed relationships, a serious socialist lite
rature is at last evolved in the more advanced countries, it is in
part the object of more or less peculiar counterfeits in countries
which consider their backwardness as a sign of exceptionalism;
and in part provides the occasion for incorrect interpretations
and reactionary practical programmes. Not only in Russia, but
in Poland too, and in the East of Europe generally, we now meet
or may meet social-revolutionaries of the W illic h and Schapper
fashion.** It goes without saying that the further development
of the European East is discrediting their expectations from
the revolution just as it discredited the expectations of W illic h
and Schapper in Germany.
See Enthultungen iiber den Kommunisten-Prozess zu Koln von Karl

Marx, second edition, which we take all the above-cited details from.
** [Note to the 1905 edition.] These lines were written when we could not
become clear about the trend of the "organ of the international social-revolu
tionary party (?) Walka Klas.u t Now, after the publication of three issues
of this paper, it can be said with assurance that it has made the dissemina
tion of theories after the W illich and Schapper fashion its main aim. How
ever, one must be very careful when talking about the theories characterising
such a trend, for, as Marx noted, die Partei Schapper-Willich hat nie auf
die Ehre Anspruch gemacht, eigne Ideen zu besitzen. W asih r gehort, isl das
eigrontiimliche Missverstandnis fremder Ideen, die sie als Glaubensartikel
fixiert und als Phrase sich angeeignet zu baben meint.W7
CAPITALISM IN R U SS IA
1. THE HOME MARKET
We now know that every backward country can at first, until

the home market is glutted, eliminate insuperable competition
from its more advanced neighbours by means of a customs system.
Mr. Tikhom irovs arguments that in our country there are hardly
any markets thus lose a considerable portion of their specific
weight. For backward countries the question can be formulated
only as follows: w ill Western capitalism succeed and to what
extentto draw them into its wake before it gives place to
a higher form of social organisation? To answer this question
we must weigh attentively the present situation of each of those
countries separately. That we w ill do in the next chapter; let us
now return to Mr. Tikhomirov and see how he makes this analysis.
Anybody who has followed social trends in our country in
recent years knows, of course, thal the efforts of our private
businessmen are directed precisely towards guaranteeing the
home market. This striving meets w ith support from the govern
ment, from the press and also from the section which only
Mr. Tikhom irovs peculiar terminology can allow one not to
recognise as intelligentsia. A fair number of our professors and
scientists are already rallying to that banner. Nevertheless, the
cause of Russian capitalism seems to Mr. Tikhomirov to be a very
difficult if not an altogether hopeless one. In his opinion, indus
try is developing sluggishly. It is always complaining of a short
age of intelligent and energetic forces . That is true, of course,
to a certain extent; but does this show the hopelessness of Rus
sian capitalism's striving? Is not the sluggish development of
Russian industry determined by the influence of contemporary
political oppression? Free institutions are a necessary condition
for capitalism at a certain stage of its development that has long
been clear to everybody both in Europe and in Russia, where
voices were raised as early as the fifties demanding freedom for
the sake of industrial success. It would be very useful for Mr. Ti
khomirov to read the late I. Babsts speech, On Certain Condi
tions Promoting the Increase of the N ational Capital , delivered
in June 1856 at a great assembly of Kazan University. It would
help him to understand how the same capitalism which at first
OUIl DIFFEREN CES
209
hides under the cloak of an autocrat gradually comes into

contradiction w ith the interests of absolute monarchy and stands
in opposition, in its own way of course, moderately and in an
orderly fashion. It is difficult to imagine how harmful bad admin
istration, lack of security, arbitrary extortions, plundering
nnd evil institutions are to economy and accumulation, and
at the same time to the increase of the national capital, says the
economist I have just named. Internecine wars, the struggle
of the political parties, invasions, pestilence, and famine cannot
have on the national wealth the destructive influence of despotic
and arbitrary administration. W hat have the blessed countries
of Asia Minor not suffered, what upheavals have they not expe
rienced, and they have constantly been transformed, again into
an earth paradise until they were pinned down by Turkish adm in
istration. W lm t happened to France in the eighteenth century,
when the infamous system of taxation weighed down on the
agricultural population and when, into the bargain, every official
was able to plunder without fear and with im punity under cover
of taxes? Thieves and robbers can be kept in check, but what
can be done with bodies and officials of the supreme authority
who consider their position as a lucrative trade? Here all ener
getic labour, all care for the future, for the improvement of
one's living, run low and ... capitals and their accumulation,
gentlemen, fulfil their real purpose only wfien the road for their
activity is fully and freely o p e n e d In vain does Mr. Tikhomirov
refer to the circumstance that the reign of Alexander II was
a continual attempt by the monarchy to restore its stability by
organising Russia on bourgeois principles^?) as an argument
lo support the idea thal Russian capitalism's striving is hopeless.
The history of the French absolute monarchy, beginning with Hen
ry IV, was also almost a continual attempt to m aintain the sta
bility of the old state system by organising France on bourgeois
principles. As early as at the assembly of the Elats Generaux
in i(>l4 the nobility complained or this in the most, unambiguous
terms. We have already said what care Louis X l V s minister ap
plied to Frances industrial development. In the eighteenth cen
tury, 011 the eve of the revolution, there was set up a whole school
of economists professing solidarity of interests between capi
talism and the absolute monarchy, proclaiming the bourgeois
principle laissez faire, laissez passer and at the same time quot
ing China as a model of a political system. The monarchy endeav
oured according to its ability to adapt itself to the new condi
tions, as far as was possible without renouncing absolute power.
At the opening of the Etats Generaux in 1789, when it had one
foot in the grave, the monarchy, with Louis X V I as its m outh
piece, condemning illusions , promised to satisfy all the reason
U 01329
210
G. P LEK HA N O V
able demands of the country. But the implacable logic of

things shows in a manner which is unexpected even to many
members of the bourgeoisie that, although not everybody realised
it, the fall of absolutism was the countrys most reasonable
demand. The political ideals of the physiocrats168 were an unrealisable utopia, and m any contemporaries of the physiocrats real
ised that absolutism was incompatible w ith the bourgeoisies
further development. The socialist Mably, at least, and his Doutes
proposes aux philosophes economistes, may be given as an example.
In his time the bourgeoisie as a class had not yet thought of seiz
ing supremo political power in the country, but, unlike Mr. Ti
khomirov, he did not say that if it were strong enough it would
do so now. He knew that there are epochs in history in which the
strength and political consciousness of a given class rise just
as rapidly as the level of the water in a river when the ice breaks.
He also know that the strength of each class is a relative concept,
defined, among other things, by the degree of decay of its prede
cessors and the level achieved by the successor in its development.
Given the low development of the people, the French bourgeoisie
was the only class capable of exercising supremacy. Absolutism
was a hindrance to Frances further development under the guid
ance of tho bourgeoisie and was therefore doomed. The bour
geoisie revolted against the autocracy under whose cloak" it had
grown to sedition. Mably foresaw this outcome and, in spite
of his communist ideals, he realised that the immediate future
belonged to the bourgeoisie.
If the significance and future prospects, not only of social
classes, but even of the philosophical and political theories,
could be denied on the grounds that they all develop for some
timo under the auspices of a principle which is incompatible
with their further development, we would have to deny all human
culture and imagine for it new and less hazardous roads.
Did not philosophy grow w ithin and at the expense of theology?
U nity, subordination and freedom are the three relationships to
church theology in which the philosophy of the Christian period
successively stood," says Friedrich Uberweg in his history of
philosophy*; and this order of m utual relations between knowl
edge and faith may be recognised as a general law if we, on onr
side, add that freedom clears the road for itself only by the
bitterest struggle for existence. Every new social or philosophical
principle is born in the womb of and consequently on the nutri
tive juice ofthe old which is its opposite. To conclude from
this that the fate of the new principle is hopeless means not to
know history.
* Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophic, Th. I l l , S. 2.
OUR
DIFFERENCES
211
Our uxceptionalists, indeed, liave a very poor knowledge of

history. When they listen to the arguments of the Manchester
School169 ou tho harmfulness of state intervention, knowing at the
samo time that the Russian capitalists have a weakness for such
intervention so long as it is manifested in protective tariffs,
subsidies, guarantees, etc., tho home-grown Russian sociologists
conclude that the road of development for our capitalism is dia
metrically opposed to that of Western Europe; in the West tlio
bourgeoisie speak only of non-intervention , here, only of subsi
dies and guarantees. But if Messrs. V. V. & Co. did not believe
in the word of the Manchester School economists and would
leavo aside at least for a time their exceptionalist sources, they
would find out that the West European bourgeoisie did not always
or everywhere m aintain the principle of non-intervention in their
own country and s till less did they support that principle in the
colonies. Having found this out, they would see that their con
trapositions have hardly any sense at all. We know that the radi
cal mistake of the bourgeois economists of the Manchester School
consisted precisely in elevating to the dignity of eternal im m u
table natural laws principles which have only a transient signif
icance. Not sharing bourgeois e c o n o m is t s expectations from
the future, many Russian exceptionalists are nevertheless con
vinced that their views on the past are correct. They believe that
in the history of the West the bourgeoisie uever needed state
intervention and government support and derived nothing but
harm from it. That is the principal defect of our exceptionalist
theories and programmes. Mr. V. V. believes what the Manchester
School says, and thinks even a slight acquaintance with the eco
nomic history of Europe superfluous. Mr. Tikhomirov believes
what Mr. V. V. says, and sees the increasing influence of the Rus
sian bourgeoisies interests on the economic policy over the
last twenty-live years (the reign of Alexander II was a continual
attempt , etc.) as the principal sign of the weakness and still
bornness of Russian capitalism.
Mr. V. V ., a supporter of absolutism and for that reason if
for no other a bitter reactionary, does not interest us in the least.
But we confess that we are very much grieved by the credulity
of the editor of a revolutionary paper.
That the interests of the Russian bourgeoisie are now coming
into irreconcilable contradiction to the interests of absolutism
is known to anybody who has given the slightest attention to
the course of Russian life in the last decade.* That the very
*
(Note, to the 1905 edition.] The present behaviour of the Russian bour
geoisie shows that the contradiction which I point out was, indeed, irre
concilable.
14*
212
G. P LEK H A N O V
same bourgeoisie is able, however, to derive profit from the

existing regime and therefore not only supports some aspects
of it, but stands for it as a whole, in some of its sections, is also
no wonder. The development of a given social class is too compli
cated a process for us to be able to judge of the whole trend from
some separate aspects. Our bourgeoisie is now undergoing au
im portant metamorphosis; it has developed lungs which require
the fresh air of political self-government but at the same time
its gills, with which it still breathes in the troubled water of
decaying absolutism, have not yet completely atrophied. Its
roots are s till in tho soil of the old regimo, but its crown has
already attained a development which shows that it absolutely
needs to be transplanted. Tho kulaks are continuing to get rich
thanks to the predacious character of our state economy, hut
the big works owners and manufacturers, merchants and bourgeoisified agriculturists already understand that they must
absolutely acquire political rights for their own welfare. This is
proved to us by the petitions fairly frequently addressed to the
government in the last ten years; in one of them the big indus
trialists and tradesmen even asked the government not to take
any financial measures without consulting representatives of big
capital. W hat is the tendency of such a petition? Does it not
show that the destructive influence of absolutism is reflected
in a palpable and noticeable manner in the incomes of the trad
ing and industrial companies? Does it not show that the system
by which each individual businessman can influence ministers
and ministries by all sorts of petitions, patriotic subscriptions
and outright bribery is already becoming insufficient and ineffec
tive and therefore tends to be replaced by organised and legal
participation of the industrial class in the administration of
the country? S. S. Polyakov can still be of the opinion that the
ministers lie has bribed are better than responsible, constitutional
ministers . 170 But H is Excellencys rivals, whom he defeated by
presents and bribes, probably do not share his point of view.
A political regime which is profitable to separate individuals.
becomes unprofitable to the business class as a whole. Naturally,
the representatives of that class do not come out into the streets,
put up barricades or publish underground leaflets. However,
the bourgeoisie in general do not like such hazardous means.
Only in very rare cases were they the first to raise tho banner
of revolt even in Western Europe: for the greater part they merely
undermined the hated system little by little and reaped fruits
from the victory of the people who fought against their enemies
enemies. As for secret political propaganda, what kind of a
bourgeoisie would they have been had they not understood the
significance of the division of labour? The bourgeoisie leave
OUR DIFFER EN CES
213
propaganda lo Ihe so-called intelligentsia and do not let them

selves be distracted from the task of lheir own enrichment. They
know that their cause is certain and that the political struggle
begun by our intelligentsia w ill sooner or later clear the ground
for their, the bourgeoisies domination. Did not the Italian
bourgeoisie let the revolutionaries pick out of the fire the chestnuts
of political emancipation and unification and are they not now
feeding on those chestnuts?
And what if the revolutionaries seize power and carry out
a social revolution? The bourgeoisie do not believe in that, and
soon, indeed, the revolutionaries themselves w ill cease to believe
in it. Soon they w ill all understand that if people open their
umbrellas when it is raining, that does not mean that rain can
be caused by opening umbrellas; they w ill soon see that if the
seizure of political power is the inevitable consequence of the
development of the working class, just as of any other class, one
must not conclude that it is enough for revolutionaries from
among the privileged sections to seize power and the working
population of Russia w ill be able to carry out a socialist upheaval.
Soon all our socialists w ill understand that one can serve the
interests of the people only by organising and preparing the people
for independent struggle for those interests.
But nothing could be more profitable for ihe Russian bourgooisie than the confidence some of our revolutionaries have in
the bourgeoisies powerlessness. The bourgeoisie themselves are
perhaps ready to join in their song. They even do so whenever the
occasion offers. Just lake the question of the number of our indus
trial workers. According to our author out of 100 m illion inhab
itants in Russia there are only 800,000 workers united by capi
tal; and besides this relatively negligent number of workers
in our country ... is not growing, but perhaps is even (!) remain
ing at the same figure. N oting that it is not growing and there
fore exactly is remaining at the same figure", let us Irace the genesis
of this conviction.
2.
NUMBER
OF
W ORKERS
Here Mr. Tikhomirov is repeating the words of Mr. V. V ., to

whom tho credit is due for having noticed the numerical stagnation
of our working class. For Mr. V. V ., the entire significance of capi
talism is reduced to ihe union of the workers ; it is understanda
ble why be exerts himself so much to prove that Ihe number of our
workers is remaining al the same figure. Once Ibis proposition
is proved, capitalism s in ab ility to contribute to the success of
Russian culture in any sense at all is also proved. People who know
thal the role of capitalism is not confined to the union of the
G. PLEKHANOV
214
workers also know that the fact quoted l>y Mr. V. V. would not
prove anything at all, even if it were correct. And tho9e who are
fam iliar w ith todays Russian statistics know, beside^, that the
fact itself is incorrect. How, indeed, does Mr. V. V. prove it?
Prom a single article in Vestnik Yevropy171 he drew the following
table on the history of Russian non-taxable factories and works".17*
Year
Number of
workers
Number of
factories
1761
1804
1842
1854
1866
7,839
95,202
455,827
459,637
393,371
200
2,423
6,930
9,444
16,451
Production
in rubles
2,122,0001
26,750,000 \
97,865,000j
151,985,000
342,910,000
Production per
worker in rublw
approx. 300
approx. 330
approx. 870
From these ligures Mr. V. V. concludes that from 1842, i.e.,

the time when England allowed the free export of machines, and
m ainly from 1854, the development of Russian production began
to follow the law which he had developed, i.e., that side by side
with the increase of its (capitals) turnover, there was a decrease
in the number of workers production expanded not in width,
but in depth.* Is that true? Not quite.
In order to find the law of the development of Russian pro
duction, one must take into account all Russian production as
a whole, and not its separate sections. W hy, then, does Mr. V. V.
base his conclusions only on figures for non-taxable factories
and works? We do not know, and probably neither does
Mr. Tikhom irov, who indiscriminately repeats what other people
say. And yet, so long as this question remains unanswered the law"
found by Mr. V. V. w ill only have one leg to stand on. Not a few
examples are to be found in the history of West European capital
ism of expansion of production not in w idth, but in depth.
In France, according to Moreau de Jonn 6 s, the total value of
woollen industry products increased by 74 per cent from 1811
to 1850, the number of looms used nearly doubled, and the number
of workers employed dropped by 15,000.** Does this mean that
from 1811 the number of French workers remained at the same
figure or even decreased? Not at all: the decrease in one branch
of production was compensated by an increase in others; in the
forty years preceding 1850, capitalism doubtlessly drew into its
wake an enormous mass of workers, although, of course, it did
not provide them w ith a guaranteed wage, as bourgeois economists
try to assure readers. Mr. V. V. should have proved that no similar
phenomenon took place in Russia, above all as, precisely from the
* See The Destinies of Capitalism in Russia, pp. 26-27.
** Statistique de V Industrie de la France, p. 34.
215
OUR DIFFEREN CES
forties, there was rapid development in certain taxable industries

in our country.
Did he do so? He could not do so, because the statistic figures
lie quoted are of no use for any serious conclusions; for instance,
Ihe figures relating to 1842 are sim ply incommensurable w ith
those for the second half of the sixties; they were collected by
various institutions using various methods and are therefore not
equally reliable. Up to 1866 statistic computations were based
mainly on Ministry of Finance information supplied by the m anu
facturers themselves and mostly inaccurate. U p to 1861, taxable
works were not taken into account at all. And finally it was in
186(1, thanks to the efforts of the Central Statistical Committee,
that more accurate figures were obtained. Mr. V. V. would have
shown more caution by not basing any laws on the shaky founda
tions of such statistics . B ut leaving that aside, the figures quot
ed by him do not agree w ith those of tho Central Statistical Com m it
tee. i.e., the only data which are at all reliable. According to the
information of this Committee, the number of workers employed
in the manufacturing industry in European Russia (not including
the Kingdom of Poland and Finland) was 829,573. They were
divided as follows among the various groups of production:
Workers
Processing of fibrous m a teria ls...........................

w o o d ............................................
livestock p r o d u c t s ....................
"
mineral p ro d u c ts .......................
m e t a ls ..........................................
chemical production ................
tobacco ......................................
food products..............................
others .........................................
294,866
14,630
38,757
49,332
128,058
13,628
26,116
262,026
3,052*
What song do these figures sing? we ask, using Mr. V. V .s

words. First of all that even in the non-taxable industries the
number of workers in 1866 was much higher than tho figure which
was lo testify in favour of his law.
But these figures are not accurate either, they are lower than
the reality. In an addendum to the chapter on the manufacturing
industry, the editors of Voyenno-Statistichesky Sbornik admit
that in the index to the exhibition (of 1870) and in Timiryazevs
atlas they came across many factories and works which were not
mentioned in previous sources. Pages 913 and 914 of Sbornik
are printed in very small, close-set type and are completely filled
by a list of such factories. This new list only mentions enterprises
*
See Voyenno-Statistichesky Sbornik No. IV,
1871, pp. 322-25.
Russia,' St.Petersburg,
G. P LEK HA N O V
216
w ith a production of not less than 25,000 rubles and the greater
pari of it deals w ith factories w ith a production of over 10 0 ,0 0 0
rubles. B u i Mr. Tim iryazevs atlas was not complete either.
Mr. Skalkovsky, basing himself on declarations of many manu
facturers, said that the figures in lhat atlas are all tho same far
from the truth , even after the corrections made to them by
Messrs. Alafuzov and Alexandrov.*
This is quite understandable. It was precisely after 1842, i.e.,
after England allowed free export of machines, that many of the
non-taxable branches of our industry developed rapidly both
in w id th and in depth . It was only after that time, for exam
ple, that our cotton-spinning m ills began to develop. This develop
ment was partly promoted by the fact that in 1841 ... we had an
increase of customs dues on imported yarn. And although these
dues were abolished in 1850 the success of Russian cotton spinning
was nevertheless assured, our own yarn began to oust the foreign
article more and more. The following figures show what a great
change took place in our cotton manufactures in a matter of some
forty years:
In 1824-25 we imported
In 1844
In 1867
74,268 poods of raw cotton

2,400,000
yarn
=100 nmi
praw
a i r .cotton
'r .M r v n
590.000
600.000
yarn
3,394,000
raw cotton
186,804
" yarn
That this change was caused by the expansion of our capitalist

industry after 1842 in w idth also, by the way, is seen from the
fact that many new weaving, cotton and other m ills in our country
date from quite recent times. The development of cotton spinning
affected the further processing of cotton yarn. The peasants
weaving looms began gradually to be moved out of the cramped
houses into roomy weaving halls 173 containing ten or more looms
at which not only the master but also hired people worked....
Finally, the bleaching, dyeing and printing industries were reno
vated. Out of home production and crafts establishments in these
sectors grew real factories, some of which became comparable
w ith Ihose abroad in a short time.** In one of the less industrial
uyezds of Moscow Gubernia, namely K lin , Mr. Erisman says,
the m ajority of the small weaving m ills now existing were found
ed in the late sixties and early seventies. The B alin and Makarov
cotton-spinning m ill (employing 432 workers of both sexes) was
founded in 1840; the power-loom cotton factory of Kaulen, Ka*
See Shorthand Account of the Sittings of the Third Session of the
First All-Russia Congress of Manufacturers, Works Owners, etc., p. 37.
** Voyenno-Statistichesky Sbornik No. IV , p. 378.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
217
past-in and Krasnogorov (776 workers of both sexes) in 1849;

Ihe Flamlen silk-weaving and carpet factory (275 workers) in
1856; the power-loom cotlon factory of Kashayov (from 500 to
700 workers) in 1804. Match production began in 1863 with the
equipment of the first Zakharov works (90 workers in his two facto
ries and 00 in the St ram factory). Approxim ately at the same time
the working of calf-leather, begun earlier, was considerably
extended by the establishment of several new works in Stcshino.
As for the development of factory industry in the uyezd during
the seventies, an idea of this can be obtained from the following
figures, which show the number of factories and works among those
that we examined which are known to have been built after JS7J.
Weaving factories . . . .
Bleaching and dyeing estab
lishments ......................
Dyeing establishments . .
Leather factories...............
Mirror fa c to r ie s ...............
Sandalwood m i ll s ...............
16
3
3
3
6
1
Fringe factories...................
Mechanical w orks...............
Treacle w o rk s......................
Starch w o r k s ......................
Match w o r k s ......................
Chemical w o rk s...................
Shoemaking w o rk s...............
Actually, the number of factory establishments founded after

1871 and in particular the number of small weaving m ills set up
in the seventies is much larger than shown here since, firstly, we
did not visit all the small establishments and, therefore, cannot
say anything about the time of their foundation, and secondly,
even in tho establishments we examined we did not always get
exact data about the time of their establishment.
Moreover, it must be noted that even now (1880) new factories
are being set up in K lin Uyezd. Thus, the Kashayev associalion
is expanding production by equipping a cotton-spinning m ill;
F. 0. Zakharov has built another match works in K lin ; in the
village of Shchekino, Troitskoye Volost, a new bolting-mill
has been founded, belonging to the peasant Nikifor Pavlov;
the steam sawmill al Zavidovo Station, Nikolayevskaya Railw ay,
lias expanded production, and finally, the Frishmak works
producing wheel grease has been built near Solnechnogorsk Sta
tion.*
What song do these facts, taken from the economic life of
one of the least industrial uyezds of Moscow Gubernia, sing?
Certainly not that the number of factory workers is remaining
at the same figure . Rather that our exceptionalist writers use too
exceptionalist methods to prove Russian exceptionalism. That in
general; but to Mr. Tikhomirov they sing in chorus that his
* Collection of Statistical Reports on Moscow Gubernia, Section on S a n it a
tion Statistics, Vol. I l l , No. 1, Erisman, Study of Factory Establishments
in Klin Uyezd, Moscow, 1881, pp. 7-8.
218
G. P LEK H A N O V
programme is based on too superficial a knowledge of the contem

porary condit ion of our industry. Mr. Tikhomirov is quite mistaken
if he seriously thinks that in our country the number of factory
and plant workers does not exceed 800,000. According to official
information the figure for factories and plants in European Russia
(not including the Kingdom of Poland) does not, indeed, exceed
the figure given by Mr. Tikhomirov: in 1879 it was 711,097,
which, however, does not include the number of workers at distilleries.
Rut Mr. Tikhomirov forgets that this figure applies only to the
manufacturing industry, lie takes no account of m ining and metal
lurgical workers. And in those industries in the same year 1879
the number of workers was 282,959, and in the following year,
1880, the number increased by nearly ten thousand. The total is,
therefore, 1,003,143. Rut can this figure be considered as even
approximately correct? Do not forget that these are official figures
collected by our adm inistration and sarcastically called ministe
rial figures by our administration itself. We already know that
the publishers of Voyenno-Statistichesky Sbornik pointed out that
the figures thus obtained were in the m ajority incomplete and
lower than the reality . A t the First All-Russia Congress of
Manufacturers, Works Owners and Persons Interested in National
Industry, at the sitting of the Third Session on May 29, 1870,
it was also noted that the existing method of collecting statistic
information on industry exclusively through routine returns made
by the police at zemstvos is extremely unsatisfactory" and that
the statistic data thus collected are considerably lower than the
reality. In the opinion of N. S. Ily in , it is a commonly known
truth that we have no statistics, either of industry or of trade.*
This incompleteness and this inaccuracy are still indisputable
facts today. In the study by Mr. Erisman that we quoted above
we read (p. 6 ) that according to information collected by him
the number of workers was twice as large as shown in the reports of
the district police officer. This depends, he said, m ainly on the
fact that works and factory owners, when asked officially about
lhe number of workers at the establishments they own, nearly
always give figures considerably lower than the real ones". Are there
any grounds for thinking that if we had a more accurate method
of investigation of statistics we would not come across the same
thing in other uyezds and gubernias in Russia? And if not, will we
not be obliged lo almost double the general total of factory and
plant workers? From the debates which took place at the Con
gress of Manufacturers already referred to it w ill be seen that
this assumption is hardly exaggerated. According to Mr. A. B.
*
See "Shorthand Account of the Sittings of the Third Session" of the
Congress mentioned above, pp. 47 and 54.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
219
von Uuschen, some manufacturers openly admitted to him that

they reduce the real figures by h a lf. Mr. T. S. Morozov, represent
ing one of the biggest lirms in Russia, stated that when the police
collect information, a big manufacturer, for instance, orders his
clerk to write the same as the previous year, and sim ilar reports
are returned year in, year out over ten years, whereas both the
quantity of material processed and the number of workers have
changed. The official writes down what he is told, he knows
nothing about the matter. Mr. M. P. Syromyatnikov says that
there are many instances of production figures being cut by half,
and not by small, but by very substantial businessmen; figures are
sometimes divided by ten. This is a reliable fact. We ask our
readers not to forget that all these revelations are made by m anu
facturers themselves, for whom such falsifications are all the same
a delicate question. W hat are we then to think of writers who
not only base their social and political theories on data whose
inaccuracy is obvious a priori, but continue to m aintain that Ihe
number of factory workers remains at the same figure even after
ihe manufacturers have explained the perfectly simple reason
for this phenomenon? A t the very best we must adm it that such
writers do not know the subject they are discussing!
Itut why do manufacturers resort to such cunning? Many of
them," Mr. von Buschen replies, give false reports purposely,
for fear of levies of some k in d .... Some have openly stated that
certain zemstvos tax factories in proportion to the number of
machines, workers, etc., and consequently it is w ith absolute delibeiation lhat they give smaller figures. When the collector of
statistic information arrives, the factory owner says: Ah! they're
from the zemstvo, they probably want to levy some tax according
to tho number of workers', and he gives orders to report only half
as many workers as ho has.*
Hence we see clearly how our revolutionaries' confidence of the
bourgeoisie's economic powerlessness is advantageous to the
bourgeoisie themselves. Fearing income tax and all other attacks
on their capital, our private businessmen try by all means in
their power to hide the real scale, of their production. W ith amaz
ing naivete our revolutionaries take their ohs and ah's at
face value and do not doubt for a minute the accuracy of the fig
ures they give; they build upon them whole theories about the
balance of forces on Russian soil and spread among our youth
erroneous ideas on tho forms of exploitation of the Russian people.
By so doing, our revolutionaries play into the hands of Ihe knights
of primitive accumulation and capitalist production.
* Ibid., p. 31.
220
G. P LEK HA NO V
However, it would be unfair to accuse Vestnik Narodnoi Vnli

of disseminating such erroneous ideas. Vestnik's main fault is
that it constantly contradicts itself and that, as the Gospel says,
its right hand does not know what its left is doing. Mr. Tikhomirov
assures his readers that Russian industry is developing sluggishly".
But in the article, The Condition of the Ore Miners and Factory
Workers in the Urals , written according to personal observation"
and published in the same issue No. 2 of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, we
read exactly the opposite. The author of the article is sure that
if his readers saw the various locomotives, sowing or winnowing
machines and many other kinds of big machines made here in
Russia by our workers , many of those readers of Vestnik Narodnoi
Voli would not bo able to help exclaiming: W hat the devil!*
Russia is m aking giant steps forward. W hy, only yesterday, so to
speak, they could not have made anything of that kind even of
barely tolerable, not to speak of good, q u a lity .... Only some
fifty years ago there were hardly ten factories in the whole of
Russia! And now? Now there are nearly 200 iron works in the
Urals alone, and how many in Petersburg, Moscow, and so on and
so forth. Theres something for you! Just give us freedom....
In ten or fifteen years the number of works in our country would
double and production itself, technology would improve, etc.
The author of the article thinks that this rather long exclamation
expresses correctly the real state of affairs. According to what he
saysand what he says, we know, is founded on personal obser
vation we have had enormous success recently in this (i.e.,
the industrial) respect: the number of works is continually increas
ing, technology is im proving (there is sluggish development
for you!). Our last exhibition 174 showed that some of our metal
works are almost on a level with the best in Europe.** Is there
anyone who can clear up this confusion? Whom are we to believe:
Mr. Tikhomirov, or a man who has personally observed the
development of our industry? To top it, we w ill note that when
the latter author has the occasion to read articles not based
on personal observation but written by "some learned or non
learned writer on the condition of our workers, they arouse no
reaction in him but hitter laughter. I imagine that he had a fit
of Mephistophelean laughter when he read Mr. Tikhomirov's
report on the sluggish development of our industry!
But let us leave the economic contradictions of Vestnik Narodnoi
Voli and return to Mr. Tikhomirov: at present the part interests
us more than the whole.
*
There is no need to say that we are not responsible for the fine language
of the quotations we make from our author.
** Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, pp. 155-56.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
221
We have shown our author that the figures he reports do not

correspond even to the official truth. Moreover, we have quoted
figures on the basis of which we can be sure that the official truth
in turn does not correspond to the reality. Now we shall tell
him that ho sim ply does not know how to deal w ith the inaccurate
statistical figures that he has at his disposal, because he operates
with magnitudes that are in no way commensurable. According
to him out of 1 0 0 m illio n inhabitants in our country there are
8 (H).000 workers united by capital a most unfavourable pro
portion for our industry. But the figure 100 m illion (to bo more
exact 101,342,242) represents the population of the whole empire,
i.e., not only European Russia (70,589,965), but also the Kingdom
of Poland (7,319,980), Finland (2,060,782), the Caucasus and the
Kars and Batum i regions (6,254,966), Siberia (3,965,192) and
Central Asia (5,151,354). But the number of workers indicated
by Mr. Tikhomirov is only for European Russia and exclusively
for manufacturing industries. W hat can we say about such meth
ods of comparative statistic study?
3. HANDICRAFTSMEN
But that is not all. In quoting his figures he means workers

united by capital, who are more or less dependent on the bour
geoisie, etc. Does he know that the number of such workers is
far greater than the probable number of factory and plant workers
proper? Such dependence is the condition of an enormous number
of handicraftsmen, who have lost almost all Iheir independence
and been very successfully united by capitalism. This circum
stance has already been pointed out by Voyenno-Statistichesky
Sbomik, which was published in 1871. More up-to-date investi
gations have fully confirmed this evidence. Thus we learn from
Mr. V. S. Prugavin that in Moscow Gubernia alone the number
of handicraft weavers amounts to 50,000. And yet only 12 handi
craftsmen attended the exhibition as exhibitors from the whole of
the enormous Moscow weaving district.... The reason for this was
mainly that the great, bulk of handicraft weavers do not work on their
own account but for more or less big masters who distribute the
raw material to be worked up by the peasants at home. Briefly,
in the weaving industries the domestic system of large-scale production
is dominant''.* In V ladim ir Gubernia extremely varied weaving
industries play a highly important role in the economic life of
the population. In the single formerly Oparino Volost, Alexandrov
*
B. C. npyraBiiH, K y m p i, na BWCTanKG 1882 ro,ia, MocKBa, 1882,
P- 9- IV. S. Irugavin, The Handicraftsman at the 1882 Exhibition, Moscow,
1882, p, fl.]
222
G. P LEK H A N O V
Uyezd, 22 villages with 1,296 workers are employed in wool

production alone. The annual production of the handicraftsmen
amounts to 155,000 rubles. W ell, are not these handicraftsmen
free from more or less complete dependence on the bourgeoisie?
Unfortunately not. When we direct our attention to the economy
of the trade, we become aware first of all of the fact that the bulk
of the handicraftsmen have no independent handicraft occupation
and work for master workers or manufacturers. Things have gone
so far in this respect that in the production of dyes, where the
independent handicraftsman gets one and a half times as much
as the dependent craftsman, the number of producers working on
their own account is only 9 per cent of the total number of handicrafts
men".*
The fact that handicraft wool production has already entered
the path of natural movement of capitalism can be seen from
the very economics of this industry and also from Ihe inequality
which it creates among the peasants. The wool industry, with
its sudden transitions from complete stagnation to revival during
war, made them (the craftsmen), at least the bigger producers
among them, fam iliar w ith industrial speculation, all the attrac
tion of stockjobbing, rapid enrichment and still more rapid fail
ures.... The enriched manufacturers** hastened first and foremost
to build large buildings w ith nine to fifteen windows on every
floor. H alf the houses in the village of Korytsevo are buildings
of this kind. W hen in the Oparino district you see a brick house,
or in general a large one, you can be sure that a master manufactur
er lives there.***
In V ladim ir Gubernia the cotton-weaving industry has developed
most. In Pokrov Uyezd alone there are more than 7.000 weav
ing looms working up two and a half m illio n rubles worth of
wares per year. In Alexandrov Uyezd the cotton industry has
spread to 120 villages, where more than 3,000 looms are operated.
But hero, too, the process of the transformation of the handicraft
industry into the capitalist system of large-scale production spoken
of above is noticed. It is interesting," says Mr. V. S. Prugavin,
to observe in the trade that we are studying the gradual process
of transition from the small handicraft form of production to largescale power-loom weaving. Between these twO economic forms of
production there are many transitional ones: to speak of them
would mean to examine the gradual process by which handicraft
weaving becomes capitalist. In Pokrov Uyezd we see, for example,
in cotton production, all possible forms of industrial units. The
house of a handicraftsman is still the dom inant form. In Pokrov
* Ibid., p. 10.
** Noto lhat they are also of peasant origin.
*** V. S. Prugavin, op. cit., p, 11.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
223
Uyezd thoro are now 4,903 looms operated in homes, while 3,200
are used in power-loom establishments. The transitional forms
are the large weaving h allstotalling 2,330 loomswhich range
from 6 - 1 0 looms to full-sized factories of a hundred or more looms.
In these largo weaving halls using hand-looms the weaver's depen
dence on the manufacturer is more striking, the net earnings of
the craftsman smaller and the conditions of labour less favourable
than in small industrial units. Another step and we are in the
domain of power-loom weaving production where the craftsman
weaver is already completely transformed into an operative work
er. The number of large weaving halls in Pokrov Uyezd is constantly
growing and of late some of them have already gone over to powerhorn. weaving production. The number of small independent weaver
craftsmen is very lim ited. There are none at a ll in Alexandrov
Uyezd, and in Pokrov Uyezd not more than 50. Although the large
weaving halls do not substantially differ in any way from the
small ones, their larger dimensions and their constant numerical
growth show beyond doubt that there is a tendency and actual
gradual approaching by the purely handicraft form of cotton
weaving to the form of large-scale, factory production, the capital
ist type of organisation of national labour.*
Let us go on to other uyezds in the same V ladim ir Gubernia.
"The economic organisation of cotton weaving in Yuryev Uyezd,
we read in another work by V. S. Prugavin, generally resembles
what we observed in Alexandrov and Pokrov uyezds. As in the
two uyezds considered earlier, the economic conditions of cotton
production have taken here the shape of the domestic system of
large-scale production... 98.95 per cent of the cotton wares pro
duced in Yuryev Uyezd is put out by the domestic system of
large-scale production and only 1.05 per cent comes from ...
independent craftsmen, you think? No, small independent m anu
facturers,**
In general, in the whole of the north-west of V lad im ir Guber
nia the spinning and weaving factories employ nearly all the
free labour-power and almost the whole of the population here has
become factory workers, so that small handicraft production here
i nothing more than the last survival of a once vigorous handicraft
industry. Of course, the ownership of the land has preserved for
the peasant in this region certain features of the agriculturist,
especially in places where the soil is fertile, but he is hardly less
subordinate to capital than any other factory worker not possess* Ibid., p. 13.
** The_ total number of looms in Yuryev Uyezd is 5,690; of these 5,030
work for big masters and 60 for small manufacturers. W hat remains in the
hands of independent producers? See The Village Commune, Handicraft
Industries and Agricultural Economy of Yuryev Uyezd, Vladimir Gubernia,
Moscow, 1884, pp. 60-61.
224
G. P LEK HA NO V
ing his own house__ Many pure craftsmen, in spite of all their
apparent independence in production, are completely dependent
on middlemen who in substance are manufacturer-customers not
belonging to any firm.*
In the Sliuya cotton-weaving district as far back as in the
late sixties and early seventies w ith the opening of new mechani
cal weaving m ills the rural population began rapidly to be attract
ed lo the big factories and to be transformed into a pure factory
class of workers. Thus tho rural work of the weavers finally lost
tho last trace of independence which it enjoyed in work in the
weaving halls, those low, stinking sheds tilled w ith looms and
packed with workers of both sexes and all ages.* *
It would bo a mistake lo think that the facts described are true
only of .Moscow and V ladim ir gubernias. In Yaroslavl Gubernia
we see exactly the same thing. Even N. F. Stuckenberg in his
Description of Yaroslavl Gubernia*** spoke of the weavers of
Velikoye village, of whom he counted 1 0 ,0 0 0 , as independent
producers. He wrote this essay on the basis of Ministry of the
Interior figures relating to the forties. At that time and up lo
1850 linen production in the village of Velikoye was a purely
peasant and handicraft one. Every peasant house was a linen
factory. Hul in 1850 the peasant Lakalov of that village installed
weaving looms, began to purchaso yarn from Tula Gubernia and
gave some of it to the peasants to weave. Many others followed hi?
example and thus linen factories began to appear. The Velikoye
factories gave out as much as 30,000 poods of yarn every year to
lhe peasants not only of that village but also of Kostroma and
Vladim ir gubernias. Up to 100,000 pieces of linen were woven by
the villagers in Velikoye alone in 1867.... As recently as a few
years ago only the women in Velikoye were engaged in clothweaving, but now, w ith the introduction of improved weaving
looms, weaving has become almost exclusively an occupation for
men and boys from the age of ten.**** This last change means that
weaving has already secured a more important role in the dislribution of employment among the members of the village families.
This is indeed so. Flax spinning and linen weaving are now the
main trade of the peasants in the area around Velikoye village.
The role played by the factory in peasant handicraft weaving can
be seen from the fact that w ith the development in this locality
*
See Statistic Records of the Russian Empire, Issue I I I , 'Material fnf
the Study of Handicraft Industry and Manual Labour in Russia, St. Peters
burg, 1872, p. 198.
** Ibid., p. 200.
* * * CmamucmuHecKue
m pydu 1HmyKcu6epza, c t 8 t l h X , OnncaHiie
flpoMaBCKoii ry 6 ., CTIB, 1858. [Statistical Works of Stuckenberg, E??ay X.
Description of Y aroslavl Gubernia, St. Petersburg, 1858.]
**** See above-quoted issue of Statistic Records, pp. 149-50.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
225
of flax-spinning and scutching factories and of chemical linen

bleaching establishments the flax industry is developing there
year by year.*
Iu Kostroma Gubernia flax spinning and weaving have provided
and are providing earnings for peasants of both sexes, especially
in the villages of Kineshma, Nerekhta, Kostroma, and Yuryovets
uyezds. But here, too, the trouble is that w ith the development
of flax-spinning factories the weaving of linen articles out of
home-spun yarn has declined drastically in the region because
the peasants have seen the im possibility of competing w ith factory
production of yarn and have begun to dress the flax more carefully
and sell it instead of spinning it into home-made yarn and m aking
their own linen.
It must not be forgotten that home-weaving sometimes pro
vided an occupation for the whole peasant fam ily, for nine months,
i.e.. three-quarters of the year. Where w ill that fam ily apply its
labour now that w ith the introduction of spinning looms and
power-loom weaving the hand weaving and dressing of articles
have decreased by more than h a lf ? It is easy to understand where.
The peasants prefer to work in the nearest factory rather than
to weave articles at home. **
Some branches of handicraft production in Kaluga Gubernia
are apparently exceptions to the general rules we have pointed
out. There peasant weaving is beating the big dealers factories.
Thus ribbon and braid production appeared in Maloyaroslavets
Uyezd with the establishment in 1804 of the merchant M a lu tin s
cotton-braid factory, the production of w hich rose from 2 0 ,0 0 0
rubles to 140,000 in 1820 as a result of the equipment w ith Rochet,
mill looms, on which one worker can weave 50 ribbons or braids
at once. But after the same type of looms began to be used in
peasant weaving in tho district, the production of M a lu tin s
factory dropped to 24,000 rubles by 1860 and finally tho factory
was closed altogether. From this our exceptiorialists w ill conclude
that Russian handicraftsmen are not afraid of capitalist competi
tion. But such a conclusion w ill be just as light-headed as all their
other attempts to establish some kind of economic laws. First,
if the independent handicraftsman did indeed trium ph over
Malutin's factory, it had still to bo proved that the victory could
he a lasting one. The history of the weaving trade in the same
gubernia gives strong reasons for doubting this. The first cottonweaving factory opened on the estate of P. M. G ubin in 1830 was
also unable to w ithstand competition from village producers, and
handicraft weaving flourished u n til 1858. But since that time
*
See Report of the Imperial Commission for the Study of the Present
Condition of Agriculture , Appendix I, Section 2, p. 166.
Ibid., pp. 170-71.
15-01329
226
G. P LE K H A N O V
machine-operated, power-loom factories have been introduced with

steam-engines which, in turn, have begun to oust hand weaving.
Thus, in Medyn Uyezd there were formerly 15,000 hand looms,
but now there are only 3,000.* W ho can guarantee that as regards
braid and ribbon production further technical improvement will
not tip the scales in favour of the big capitalists? For industrial
progress is constantly accompanied by a relative increase in con
stant capital which is extremely harm ful to small producers. And
besides, it would be a big mistake to think that in the examples
quoted tho struggle was between independent producers, on the
one hand, and capitalists, on the other. G ubin's factory was
undermined not by the independent producers hut by larger
weaving establishments in the peasant houses which immediately
lowered the piece pay in the f a c t o r ie s The struggle was between
big and small capital, and the latter was victorious because it
intensified the exploitation of the working people. It was the same
in ribbon and braid making. Masters , not independent handi
craftsmen, have purchased Rochet looms. The weaver, braidmaker and ribbon-maker increasingly lose all trace of independence,
so that they are obliged to choose between the local manufac
turers and the mastors , who get the warp from the Moscow manu
facturers, weave it in their domestic factory and pay by ihe arshin
or give it out to other peasants and then deliver the ready-made
commodity to the manufacturer. Many of these masters have,
in their way, quite a big business, and they are being transformed
into real manufacturers. In Maloyaroslavets Uyezd two cottonweaving handicraft factories employ as many as 40 workers;
five cotton braid-making peasant factories in Ovchinino and
Nedelnoye volosts have 145 looms and 163 workers, a cotton
ribbon factory in O vchinino Volost has seven looms and eight
workers, and so on.** In tho handicraft brocade production of
Moscow Gubernia there are peasant brocade factories with
a turnover of hundreds of thousands of rubles.* * *
W hat song do these figures" and facts sing? They convinced
Mr. Prugavin that handicraft weaving is fatally, though slowly,
being transformed into a large-scale form of production. But can
this conclusion be confined to weaving? Alas! There are not a few
other branches of handicraft production in which one must he
blind not to notice the same process.
For example, shoemaking in Alexandrov Uyezd, Vladimir
Gubernia. In this trade, the extensive proportions of fixed and
circulating capital and the negligible role of small workshops
in production, the strict, detailed division of labour in big estab
* Ibid ., Section 2, pp. 158-59.
** Ib id ., Section 2, pp. 158-59.
*** Statistic Records, Issue I I I , p. 308.
OUR DIFFEREN CES
227
lishments and the negligible expenses from the general turn

over for the purchase of labour-power all this bears witness to
the fact that we are dealing with a process which is passing
from the stage of a craft to the level of a manufacture.*
Or again the leather handicraftsmen who are continually
decreasing numerically, because of competition from big works.
The works, thanks to their better conditions, material as well as
technical, are able to work better and more cheaply than the handi
craftsmen. There can be no doubt that the leather handicraftsmen
will find it difficult, lo hold out against competition from factory
production, which better satisfies modern demands.
And finally the production of starch and treacle. In Moscow
Gubernia this industry is concentrated in 43 villages in which
there are 130 establishments, 117 producing starch and 13 treacle.
There are not yet any big factories here as in the weaving districts,
but here too handicraft production is beginuing to assume a capi
talist character. Hired labour plays a great part in this industry:
in 29.8 per cent of the establishments it provides the only source
of labour-power and in 59.7 per cent it has an equal share in pro
duction with the members of the masters fam ily ,** only 10 per
cent of the establishments doing almost w ithout its help. The
causes of this are found in the considerable size of the fixed capital,
which is beyond the capacity of most of the peasants .
The blacksmith industry in Novgorod and Tver gubernias and
all gubernias in which it has a role of any importance in the life
of the peasants, and all the small metal works of Nizhny Novgorod
Gubernia also show a definite loss of all independence by pro
ducers.*** The handicraftsmen have not yet felt compet ition from
big industrial capital, but lhe role of exploiter is fulfilled with
distinction by their peasant brothers or the merchants who provide
them with raw material and buy their finished product.
In Nizhny Novgorod Gubernia there are quite a number of
places whore whole communes live exclusively on hand-made
production and differ little from factory workers as far as liv in g
conditions are concerned. This is the case in the well-known v il
lages of Pavlovo, Vorsma. Bogorodskoye, Lyskovo and certain
volosts and villages in Semyonovo and Balakhna uyezds.****
The workers here are not united by capital but there is no doubt
* V. S. Prugavin, The Handicraftsman at the 1882 Exhibition, p. 28.
* The situation of the worker? in these businessmens families can be
jeen from the following words of Mr. Erisman: A mirror factory owners
on, asked by us whether he was employed at coating mirror glass with
mercury, answered: No, we take care of ourselves. " Busman, ibid., p. 200.
*** Seethe article The Blacksmith Industry in Uloma Volost, Cherepo
vets Uyezd, Novgorod Gubernia in the Report already quoted.
Statistic Records of the Russian Empire, Issue I I I , p. 83.
15*
G. P LEK HA N O V
228
that they are tied down to it and are, so to speak, the irregular army
of capitalism. Their inclusion in the regular army is only a matter
of time and of expediency as the employer sees it.
The contemporary condition of the handicraftsmen is so un
stable that producers are often threatened w ith the loss of their
independence merely as the result of an improvement in the means
of production. For instance the craftsman I. N. Kostylkov invent
ed four machines to make rakes. They considerably increase the
productivity of labour and are, properly speaking, very cheap.
Nevertheless, Mr. Prugavin expresses quite justified fears that
they w ill cause a very big change in the economic organisation
of rake making , in the sense, of course, of undermining the inde
pendence of the producers. Mr. Prugavin presumes that there
should be help in this case for the mass of rake-makers to give
them the possibility of acquiring machines on a collective basis.
Of course it would be very good to do so, but the question is:
W ill it be done? Those who are now in power, we know, have very
little sympathy for a collective basis and we really do not know
whether we shall soon have a government w ith sympathy for such
a basis; whether, for example, we shall soon have at the helm the
Narodnaya Volya party, which would lay the foundation of
the socialist organisation of Russia . And as long as that party
only talks about seizing power, matters can change only for the
worse: the present candidates for the proletariat may become
proletarians in reality tomorrow. Can this fact be ignored in
a study of economic relationships in contemporary Russia? There
are several m illion handicraftsmen in our country and many
branches of handicraft production are partly changing and have
partly changed into the domestic system of large-scale production.
According to inform ation collected as early as 1864 the approx
imate number of workers in the villages engaged in manufacturing
cotton goods from the manufacturers yarn (only workers of that
category!) "was about 350,000. To say after this that the number
of our industrial workers does not exceed 800,000 means to study
Russia only by means of statistical exercises of clerks, district
police officers and non-commissioned officers.
4.
HANDICRAFT
TRADE
AND
AGRICULTURE
So far our handicraftsmen are still peasants. R ut what kind

of peasants! From a so-called subsidiary trade handicraft produc
tion has been transformed in m any places into the staple item of
the peasants income. This places agriculture in a dependent,
subordinate position. I t feels all the vacillations of our industry,
all the vicissitudes of its development. The same Mr. Prugavin
:says that the disruption of the peasant economy" of the weavers
OUR D IFFEREN CES
229
in Vladimir Gubernia is the inevitable consequence of our indus

trial crises. Once agriculture thus depends on industrial labour,
there is no need to be a prophet to foretell the time when the weav
ers' peasant economy w ill be ultim ately ruined: that ruin coin
cides with the transition of the domestic system of large-scale
production to the factory system. The former handicraftsman
will have to give up one of his occupations in order not to be
deprived of both. And he w ill naturally prefer to give up the land
which, in the industrial zone of Russia, is far from paying the
taxes and dues imposed upon it. Instances of peasants giving up
land already occur now.
According to Mr. A. Isayev, the village of Velikoye which we
mentioned above ceased long ago to be an agricultural village.
Only 10 to 15 of the total number (up to 700) of householders cul
tivate the soil, while most of the villagers can no longer use a
plough or even a scythe.... These ten to fifteen householders
and peasants in the neighbourhood of Velikoye rent the communal
land from the people in Velikoye at the rate of a ruble a des
siatine of ploughland (with such a high rate of land rent it is
easy enough to give up the land altogether, be it noted incidental
ly). "The situation of cattle-rearing corresponds entirely to the low
level of grain cultivation: there is hardly one cow and one horse
to three households__ The Velikoye peasant has lost all resem
blance to a peasant .
But is this process observed only in the village of Velikoye?
Voyenno-Statistichesky Sbornik noted the fact that the cotton
handicraft industry is in m any places a subsidiary occupation;
but there are places where it is the m ain and even the only one .*
Similarly, shoemaking is now the principal means of subsistence
of the Kirnry peasants and has pushed agriculture into the back
ground. Nobody who studies the K im ry region can fail to notice
the number of abandoned strips of land: one is struck by the decay
of agriculture, Mr. Prugavin informs us. Like a true Narodnik,
he consoles himself w ith the thought that at present it is
not the industry itself that is to blame so much as the unfavourable
conditions in which agricultural labour is placed and that most
of the craftsmen have not yet finally abandoned their land. But,
first, the Report of the Im perial Commission for the Study of the
Present Condition of Agriculture which we have already quoted
shows, contrary to Mr. Prugavin, that precisely the m ajority of
the Kimry peasants have abandoned the land forever.** Second
ly, all that he says on this subject is a fairly doubtful consolation.
* P. 384.
** In this village, peasant and land-poor single peasant households
Dumber H70, but not more than 70 householders cultivate grain and make
use of all the land belonging to the village (these no longer engage in shoe-
230
G. P LEK HA N O V
No matter who or what causes the fall of agriculture, it is an exist

ing fact, as a result of which many craftsmen w ill soon be able to
free themselves altogether from the power of the land". Of course,
this process could still be slowed down now by providing agricul
ture w ith better conditions. But here again we face the question:
who w ill provide it w ith those conditions? The present govern
ment? They do not want to. The revolutionary party? I t cannot
yet. And by the time the sun rises you can be wading in dew by
the time our revolutionaries acquire strength enough to carry out
their reform plans, peasant agriculture may be but a memory in
m any places.
The decline of agriculture and the disintegration of the old
foundations of the peasant m ir are the inevitable consequence
of the development of handicraft production, under the actual
conditions, of course, not under the possible conditions with
which our Manilovs178console themselves and which w ill be a real
ity we know not when. For example, in Moscow Gubernia fre
quent relations (of the craftsmen) w ith the Moscow trading world
have a disrupting influence on the relations of common law;
the m ir has no say in dividing out fa m ily property, which is
governed by the elders or the volost court according to the law'\
the father shares his property among his children by testament...
after the death of tho husband the childless widow is deprived of
immovable property (the house) which goes to the relatives on
the husbands side, while she receives one-seventh of the inher
itance .* How the same handicraft industry, when it reaches
a certain degree of development, tends to undermine agriculture
can be seen from the example of starch and treacle production.
A characteristic fact in the industry we are investigating is the
extreme unevenness with which plots are distributed between the
householders.... Thus, in the village of Tsibino, Bronnitsy Uyezd,
44.5 per cent of all the land intended for 166 households is in
the hands of only 18 factory owners (from among the peasants),
each of them having 10.7 personal allotm ents, while 52 prosperous
peasants have only 172 personal allotm ents, or 3.3 per household.
I t is understandable that the more paying the industry becomes,
the more the factory owners w ill be stim ulated to lay their hands
on as much land as they can, and it is quite possible that the
35 householders who now cultivate their plots by using hired la
bour w ill find it more profitable, when the rent is raised, to give up
cultivating their plots and hand them over to the factory owners.
Exactly the same thing is encountered in other villages in which
starch and treacle production is more or less developed.
making). Report, Section 2, p. 153. This information was obtained from
the elders and peasants of Kimry Volost".
Prugavin, The Handicraftsman at the 1882 Exhibition.
231
OUR D IFFEREN CES

5. THE HANDICRAFTSMAN AND THE
FACTORY
But that is enough; we are not studying handicraft industry

in Russia. All we want is to point out the indisputable facts w hich
show beyond refutation the transitory situation of our national
economy. W hile those who have made the safeguarding of the
peoples interests the m ain aim of their life close their eyes to
the most signilicant phenomena, capitalism is going its way: it is
ousting independent producers from their shaky positions and
creating an army of workers in Russia by the same tested method
as it has already practised in the West. Thus, hand in hand
with the expropriation of the self-supporting peasants, w ith their
separation from their means of production, goes the destruction
of rural domestic industry, tho process of separation between
manufacture and agriculture.... S till the m anufacturing period,
properly so called, does not succeed in carrying out this transfor
mation radically and completely. I t w ill be remembered that
manufacture, properly so called, conquers but partially the domain
of national production, and always rests on the handicrafts of
tbo town and tho domestic industry of the rural districts as its
ultimate basis. If it destroys these in one form, in particular
branches, at certain points, it calls them up again elsewhere,*
because it noeds them for the preparation of raw material up to
a certain point. It produces,* therefore, a new class of small v il
lagers who, while following the cultivation of the soil as an acces
sory calling, find their chief occupation in industrial labour, the
products of which they sell to the manufacturers directly, or
through the medium of merchants....
Modern industry alone, and finally, supplies, in machinery,
the lasting basis of capitalistic agriculture, expropriates radically
the enormous majority of the agricultural population, and completes
the separation between agriculture and rural domestic indus
try....** At present we are going through that very process of the
gradual conquest of our national industry by manufacture. And
this process of bringing into existence" or at least temporarily
livening mauy branches of small handicraft industry gives
Mr. V. V. and his associates the possibility of trying to prove with
apparent success that in our country there is no capitalisation of
handicraft industry. *** The meagre pay for which the handicrafts
men sell their labour somewhat retards the transition to large* |Italics bv Plekhanov.]
Das Kapital, 2. Aufl., S. 779-80.^
*** Those who have grasped the essence of the domestic system of large*cale production w ill understand how the process referred to takes place.
Let us give some explanatory facts just in case. Print manufacturers gener
ally print either on other people's cloth according to orders from outsiders
or on their own wares, buying yarn and giving it to be woven in different
232
G. P LEK H A N O V
scale machine industry. B ut in this phenomenon as in its indubi

table consequences there is not and cannot be anything exceptional
ist. The cheapening of labour-power, by sheer abuse of the labour
of women and children, by sheer robbery of every normal condi
tion requisite for working and liv in g ,... meets at last with natural
obstacles that cannot be overstepped. So also, when based on these
methods, do the cheapening of commodities and capitalist exploi
tation in general. So soon as this point is at last reached... the
hour has struck for the introduction of machinery, and for the
thenceforth rapid conversion of the scattered domestic industries
and also of manufactures into factory industries.* We have seen
that this hour has struck already for the uyezds of the Shuya
cotton-weaving district. Soon it w ill strike in other industrial
localities too. The giving out of work to be done at home" is
profitable to the capitalist only as long as industrial labour is
a side-line and a subsidiary occupation for the handicraftsmen.
The income from agriculture allows the labourer to be satisfied
w ith an incredibly low pay. But as soon as this income ceases,
as soon as corn-growing is finally ousted by industrial labour,
the capitalist is obliged to raise the wage to the level of the famous
m inim um of the workers requirements. Then it is more profitable
for him to exploit the worker in the factory, where the productivi
ty of labour is increased by its very collectiveness. Then comes
the era of large-scale machine industry.
Cotton spinning and weaving are, as we know, the most ad
vanced branches of modern capitalist industry. That is why the
process which has only just set in , or perhaps not yet quite set
in in other productions, is there almost complete. At the same
time the phenomena observed in more advanced branches of
industry may and must be considered prophetic as regards other
spheres of industry. W h at happened there yesterday can happen
here today, tomorrow or in general in a not distant future.**
places. Successful business by print manufacturers is bound to lead to an
intensified giving out of the yarn to be woven in different places and con
sequently to the development of small handicraft industry. Handicraft
cotton production has extensively developed with the participation of man)
capitalist merchants who, buying cotton yarn, either warp it in their own
establishments and then give it out to weavers or give it unwarped
to masters who, only doing the warping and giving it out in the villages,
are middlemen between the capitalists and the weavers. Voyenno-Statutichesky Sbornik No. IV, pp. 381 and 384-85. The firm Savva Morozov Sons,
which employs 18,310 permanent workers, also has 7,490 occasional workers.
These occasional workers are in reality nothing but handicraftsmen who
owe their living to large-scale industry. Such facts, which bear an unambig
uous relation to capitalism, move the Narodniks so much as to make them
forget the simplest truths of political economy.
* K apital, S. 493-94.177
** [Note to the 1905 edition.) Subsequently these thoughts of mine were
not badly developed in a number of studies by Mr. Tugan-Baranovsky.
( H R D IFFER EN C ES
233
6. RUSSIAN CAPITALISM S SUCCESSES
Mr. Tikhomirov does not acknowledge the successes of Russian

capitalism. We ourselves are prepared to say to our bourgeoisie:
What thou dost, do quickly.178 B ut, fortunately or unfortunate
ly", they do not need to be urged on. Mr. A. Isayev, in his objec
tions to the Russian state socialists book, drew the readers
attention to our manufacturing industry.179 He was of the opinion
that the recent Russian exhibition could provide the best answer
to premature rejoicings over the allegedly wretched destiny of
capitalism in Russia. The class of fibrous materials is worth
developing, he said, it holds out prospects of millions. We have
a fair number of factories, even for linen production, which bring
a million to a m illio n and a half yearly. And in the cotton goods
class the figure of one m illio n is a completely negligible one. The
Danilov Manufacture produces 1.5 m illio n s worth a year, the
Giibner factory 3 m illio n s , the Karetnikovs factory 5.5 m illio n s ,
the two Baranov firms 11 m illio n s , the Yaroslavl manufactory
association 6 m illio n s, the Prokhorovs 7 m illio n s , the Krenholm
Manufacture up to 10 m illions', and so on. The sugar m ills also
give an enormous production of 5, 6 and 8 m illio n s worth. Even the
tobacco industry has its m illionaires__ And the figures for 18781882 show a large expansion in production, which slowed down
during the Russo-Turkish W ar. These and many other facts led
Mr. Isayev to conclude that large private capital production
in Russia is growing uninterruptedly.* Nor is he alone of this
opinion. The last. All-Russia E x hibition convinced Mr. V. Be
zobrazov that in our industry the progress of the last ten years
(since the 1870 Petersburg Exhibition) is obvious; in comparison
with the state of affairs twenty-five years ago this progress of our
industryparticularly manufactoryis enormous: the industry
is unrecognisable in many respects.... Besides improvement in
tlie quality of products we must also note the enormous expansion
in all branches of our industry during the last 25 years. This
expansion is especially remarkable in the last decade, since the
end of the crisis caused by the abolition of serfdom and the Tur
kish War. To see this one has only to compare our manufacturers'
bills with the reports given by the latest official Ministry of
Finance statistics. These are for 1877. Comparison of the figures
for manufactory production in 1877 and 1882 (figures for the latter
from bills) shows a tremendous increase in the quantity of products
Yuridichesky Vestnik, January 1883. Article Novelties in Economic

Literature", p. 102.
234
G. P L E K H A N O V
for these live years: it has doubled in many big enterprises.*

A very large number of factories have been established in the last
five years. Industries for processing fibre (silk, broadcloth, linen
and cotton) hold first place. Our cotton industry has been
enormously developed; some of its products can stand comparison
w ith the most up-to-date and beautiful in Europe.** These
conclusions drawn by scientists are fu lly confirmed by the cor
respondent of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli quoted above, who personally
observed tho enormous successes of large-scale production in
our country. F inally, foreigners who have written or who write
about Russia say the same thing. They already place some
branches of our industry on a level w ith those of Western Europe.
Thus, sugar production, according to Ed. de M olinari, is au
premier rang de l industrie de l Europe.*** In 1877 Russian refined
sugar even appeared on foreign markets, particularly in France.
Alongside of such facts the striving towards and influx of foreign
productive capital in our country is a sure sign that capitalism
finds there a convenient field of development. We see that foreign
capitalists aro looking w ith growing attraction towards Russia
and let slip no opportunity of founding new industrial establish
ments there. W hat would be the meaning of that tendency if
industry there were really developing as sluggishly as it seems
to Mr. Tikhomirov? But the fact is that this opinion is defended
m ainly for the sake of a doctrine for the trium ph of which our
exceptionalist writers are prepared to ignore a whole series of
absolutely categorical facts. Sluggish development is a feature
not so much of Russian capitalist production as of those of our
revolutionaries whose programmes cannot conform to our contem
porary reality.
And what about capitalist accumulation, money circulation
in the country and credit operations? Their successes are in truth
enormous. Before 1864 wo had hardly any private credit establish
ments; this year the State Bank capital reached 15 m illion rubles
and various individuals deposited 262.7 m illio n rubles at interest,
out of which sums only 42 m illion rubles were expended on the
needs of trade (23.7 m illio n were issued against bills of exchange
and 18.6 m illio n as subsidies on securities). Thirteen years have
** In making this comparison account must be taken of tho inaccuracy
noted above and the incompleteness of our official statistics on which pro
duction figures for 1877 are Dased. But on the whole, Mr. Bezobrazovs con
clusions are borne out also by his personal observation. I myself," he says,
was able to note the increase in our manufactory during my travels in the
Moscow industrial region.
** Economists franfais, 26 Aoflt, 1882, Lettres de Russie, par Wlad.
Besobrasoff.
*** See Journal des Economistes, Ju ille t 1883, Lindustrie du sucre en
Russie.
OUR DIFFER EN CES
235
elapsed and the state of affairs has changed beyond recognition.

By 1877 the capital of all the credit establishments already to
talled 167.8 m illion rubles and individuals deposited 717.5 m il
lion at interest (percentage, current account, time deposits, etc.),
i.e., capital increased by 1,018 per cent, current accounts, deposits,
etc., by 173 per cent, in all, by 220 per cent; consequently, these
sums more than trebled. A t the same time their distribution also
completely changed. In 1864 15 per cent only of these sums was
issued in subsidies or on bills of exchange, but by 1877 96 per
cent, that is, almost the whole of the sums, was invested in the
bills of exchange or subsidies.... Subsidies rose from 1864 to
1877 from 18.6 m illion by 337.9 m illion, or by 1,829 per cent.
The growth of the accounting operations trade operations in the
narrow sensewas still greater in the same time: from 23.7 m il
lion the sum of account bills rose to 500 m illion rubles, i.e., by
2.004 per cent!! W hile the sums invosted at interest increased,
tht'ir m obility was more than doubled. In 1863 the investments
circulated less than twice, but in 1876 4.75 times.
Credit and the railways hasten the transformation of natural
economy into money economy. And rnoney economy commodity
economy, is capitalist economy; consequently, both credit and
the railways hasten the turning of the economic conditions of
production under which the producers are the owners of the instru
ments of production into conditions under which the producers
become wage-labourers. *
7. M ARKETS
The facts quoted need no further comment. They show clearly

and convincingly thut it is high time for us to stop shutting
our eyes to reality, at least in respect of the manufacturing indus
try, and to come to the conviction that this reality has little in
common with the naive illusions typical of the Narodnik period
of our movement. It is time for us to have the courage to say that
in this field not only the immediate future but the present of our
country, too, belongs to capitalism. A ll the conditions of exchange,
all the production relations are increasingly shaping in a man
ner favourable to capitalism.
As for markets, we have already said that this question is by
no means as insoluble as Mr. V. V. and his epigoni think. Any
countrys transition from natural to money economy is necessarily
accompanied by an enormous expansion of the home market and
there can be no doubt that in our country this market w ill go over
in its entirety to our bourgeoisie. But there is more to it than that.
0'iepj;n naniero u o p e 4 > o p iie H H o ro o S m o c T n e m io r o
Caoso, 1880, un. 10, CTp. 86-135. [Nikolai o n , Outlines of
Our Social Economy Since the Reform, Sloro, 1880, No. 10, pp. 80-135.]
HuKO.iaii o h ,
X03H/icTBa,
236
G. PLEK HA NO V
The capitalist who looks ahead can already foresee the glutting
of that market and is in a hurry to secure foreign markets. Some
Russian goods w ill naturally find an outlet even in the West,
and others w ill go to the East in the company of white and other
generals whose patriotic mission is to strengthen our influence
in Central Asia". It was not a coincidence that the last congress
of our m ill and factory owners discussed measures to develop
trade relations w ith tho Balkan Peninsula and the conclusion of
trade treaties w ith Asia. Practical steps have already been made
in this direction and there is no reason to expect that they will
fail. Relations with the East are not a novelty for Russian business
men, and though foreign competition has often had an adverse
effect on their interests, it would be a mistake to think that the
countries which stepped on to the road of capitalist development
before others have, or w iii always be able to m aintain, the monop
oly of cheaper transport, less expensive production and better
quality. France entered upon that road later than England and
yet she has succeeded in w inning an honourable place in the inter
national market. The same may be said of Germany compared
w ith France, and so on. In the West there are many countries
for which the industrial struggle w ith the more advanced countries
is difficult just as for Russia, and yet it did not occur to any of
the revolutionary writers in those countries to preach exceplionalism after the manner of our Narodniks. It is true that modern
productive forces are far ahead of the possibility to extend markets,
the international market is nearing the glutting point and periodic
crises tend to merge into one solid chronic crisis. But until all
this happens nothing prevents the appearance on the market of
new competitors relying on some physical peculiarity of their
country or some historical conditions of their social development:
the cheapness of labour-power, of raw m aterial, etc. Moreover,
it is the appearance of such competitors that w ill hasten the fall
of capitalism in the more developed countries. N aturally, a victory
of the working class in England or France would necessarily affect
the development of the whole civilised world and would shorten
the domination of capitalism in the other countries. But all this
is a matter of the future, still more or less remote, and meanwhile
our capitalism can become, and we have seen that it is becoming,
the exclusive master in Russia. Sufficient for the day is the evil
thereof; no matter what the impending socialist revolution in
the West holds out for us in the future, the evil of the present
day in our country is all the same capitalist production.*
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] Hence it is clear that I have never shared
the theory imagined by our Narodnikswhich found its way from their
works even into Encyclopaedia Britannicaaccording to which the develop
ment of capitalism is impossible in Russia bccause our country has no mar-
OUR D IFFEREN CES
237
kets, My view of this question was expounded elsewhere soon after the publi
cation of Our Differences as follows: According to the teaching of Mr. V. V.,
the Narodnik theoretician, the appearance on the world market of new
competitors in the form of new countries, must henceforth be considered
impossible, for the market has been finally conquered by the more advanced
states. Therefore V. V. doubts the future of Russian capitalism.... V. V .s
theory is not without a certain cleverness but, unfortunately, it shows com
plete ignorance of history. There was a time when England dominated the
world market almost exclusively and her domination postponed the decisive
clash of the English proletariat with the bourgeoisie. Englands monopoly
was broken by the appearance of France and Germany on the world market,
and now the monopoly of Western Europe is being undermined by competi
tion from America, Australia and even India, which w ill naturally lead
to a sharpening of relations between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie
in Europe. Hence we sec that Mr. V .V .s theory is not confirmed by the actual
course of events. Mr. V.V. thinks that having once become dominant on the
world market the industrially more developed countries absolutely close
it to the less developed countries and thus drive the latter on to the road of
social reform, which reform must be undertaken by a government supposed
to bo above class interests, for example the Government of His Imperial
Majesty the Autocrat of A ll Russia. But facts show just the opposite. They
tell us that the less developed countries do not stand still, but- gradually
prepare For themselves the road to the world market and by their competition
drive the more developed countries on to the road of social revolution, which will
be carried out by the proletariat when it has become aware of its class task,
relying on its own strength and having seized political power...."180
I now add that my arguments have been confirmed perfectly by tho sub
sequent development of world economy and that numerous figures could
he quoted in their favour both from English Blue-Books on this subject and
from lhe reports of English consuls. I w ill also note, on the other hand, that
I have never been a supporter of the theory of markets in general or that
of crises in particular, a theory which spread like the plague in our legal
literature on Marxism in the nineties. According to this theory, whose main
propagator was Mr. Tugan-Baranovsky,181 overproduction is impossible and
crises are explained by the simple disproportion in the distribution of the
means of production. This theory is very gladdening for the bourgeoisie,
to whom it brings the pleasant conviction that the productive forces of
capitalist society w ill never outgrow the production relations peculiar
to capitalism. And it is not surprising that Mr. Werner Sombart, one of the
best theoreticians of the modern bourgeoisie, was very gentle towards it in
the paper which he read on September 15, 1903, at the Congress of the League
of Social Politics in Hamburg. (See Verhandlungen des Vereins fur Sozialpolitik iiber die Lage der in der Seeschiffahrt beschiiftigten Arbeiter und
\iber die Storungen im deutschen Wirtschaftsleben wahrend der Jahrc
1900 ff., Leipzig, 1903, S. 130.) The only surprising thing is that Mr. W. Somhart considers the prominent Russian scientist Tugan-Baranovsky as the
father of this supposedly new theory. The real fnther of this by no means
new doctrine was Jean Baptiste Say, in whose course" it is given a fairly
complete exposition. It is very interesting that in this respect bourgeois
t-conomics is returning to the point of view of the vulgar economist whom it
avoids naming as if yielding to a commendable feeling of shame. Besides
Mr. Tugan-Baranovsky, Mr. V ladim ir Ily in also professed the thoory of
J. B. Say in Note on the Theory of Markets (Scientific Review, January 1899)
and The Development of Capitalism in Russia. In this latter work, Mr. V la
dimir Ilyin, by the way, displays considerable eclecticism which shows that
tho theoretical conscience of a Marxist has not always been silent in h im .1,2
C h a p t e r III
CAPITALISM AND COMMUNAL LAND TENURE
1.
CAPITALISM
IN
AGRICULTURE
But the principal and only basis of our public economy is agri
culture, Mr. V. V. and Co. generally say. The development of
capitalist economy in this field, the application to the land of
private business capital is hindered by the village commune,
which has always been an impregnable buttress against capitalism.
In our country large-scale agriculture, far from ousting small
farming, is increasingly giving way to it. Big landowners and
leaseholders are speculating only on a rise in land rent and are
leaving agriculture to the peasant. But peasant economy is bound
to bring victory for the peasant, not capitalist, forms of economy.
Although throughout the whole of this argument error is closely
interwoven w ith truth, the truth it contains is by no means con
vincing. Agriculture is nearly everywhere the most backward
branch of national production, a branch which capitalism began
to take over only after establishing itself firmly in industry proper:
Modern industry alone, and finally, supplies, in machinery, the
lasting basis of capitalistic agriculture. That is why it is not logical
to conclude that bourgeois relations of production are inexistent or
even absolutely impossible in a country on the grounds that they
have not yet spread to agriculture. Mr. Tikhomirov thinks, for
example, that during the Great Revolution the French bourgeoisie
was so strong that it was able to prevent the establishment of
self-government by the people.* And yet right up to the Revolu
tion, the application of private business capital to the land
was prevented by numerous survivals of feudal relations, agricul
ture was in an alarming state of decay, landowners preferred to
live in towns and to rent out their lands either to sharecroppers
or to bourgeois leaseholders; the latter, like our modern Razuvayevs , 188 gave not the slightest thought to the correct cultiva
tion of the land but in their turn rented out to the peasants the land
*
p. 251.
Vestnik Narodnol Voli, W hat Can We Expect from the Revolution?"*
OUR DIFFEREN CES
239
they had leased and were concerned only w ith the most profitable
conditions for doing so.* D id that prevent the bourgeois from
being victorious or capitalism from being trium phant in France?
If not, why should it have not only a strong, but, as the Narodniks
think, a decisive influence on all production relations in our coun
try? It may be argued there were no longer any communes in Fran
ce at lhat time. Very well. But in France, as in the whole of
"Western Europe , there was the feudal regime and there were at
one time guilds which greatly hindered the development of capi
talism and cramped production instead of facilitating it. These
fetters, however, did not stop the course of social and economic
development. The time came when they had to be broken up
and they were broken up. W hat insures the Russian village com
mune against the same fate?
Mr. Nikolai on, who has a more thorough knowledge of our
cconomy after the Reform than all the Russian revolutionary and
conservative exceptionalists put together, w ill not hesitate to
acknowledge that the very Act (on peasants freed from feudal
dependence) was in our country the swan song of the old produc
tion process" and that the legislative activity that followed it, and
which was aimed in the very opposite direction, had by its results
more substantial influence on the entire economic life of the people
than the peasant reform. In this authors opinion, the application
of capital to the land, the fulfilment of its historic mission, is
hindered iri our country by the Act , which allotted the instru
ments of labour to the producers. But capitalist economy is pro
moted by the whole of the states post-Reform economic activi
ty.... The capitalist tendency, however, is apparently prevailing.
All data point to an increase in the number of producers expro
priated: the decrease in the producers share of the product and
the increase in the capitalist's going on before our eyes compel an
increasing number of the former to abandon the land, not to dress
it. Thus a very curious thing is going on in the village commune
itself: the m ir is beginning to allot the poorest land to unenterpris
ing peasants (they wont cultivate it anyhow) and the periods
between the redistributions of the land belonging to the enterpris
ing householders are continuing to be extended, so that we are
in presence of the transformation of communal exploitation to
individual.** Mr. Tikhomirov completely ignores the conclu
sions of Mr. N ikolai ons remarkable study and expressly m ain
tains that in our country the peasants still own 120,628,240
II. Kapeen, KpecTt.Hne n K po cT b H H C K iiit B o n p o c no <T>paimmi b noc.ieani'iiqeTBepTH X V III B e K n , MocKna, 1879, r.i. II, cT p . 1)7 n c.iea. [N. Kareyev,
The Peasants and the Peasant Question in France in the Last Quarter of the
Eighteenth Century, Moscow, 1879, Chapter I I , pp. 117 et seq.]
* Nikolai on, Outlines", pp. 132-36.
240
G. PLEK HA NO V
dessiatines of land".* He forgets that the substance of the ques

tion is not tho legal standards but the economic facts. These facts
show that in very many places the village commune has been so
distorted by unfavourable influences that from a moans of pro
tecting the producers against capitalist exploitation it is already
becoming a powerful instrument of the latter. So as not to speak
without proof, let us once more take the people as they are and
examine the contemporary Russian situation from that point of
view.
But first of all a few general remarks on the history of primitive
agrarian communism.
2. THE VILLAGE COMMUNE
Listening to our Narodniks one could really think that the

Russian village commune is an exceptionally enduring organisa
tion. Neither the internecine struggles during the period of
the independent principalities, the Mongol yoke, the bloody
period of Ivan the Terrible, nor the years of unrest during the
interregnum, nor the reforms of Peter and Catherine which intro
duced into Russia the principles of West European culture, noth
ing shook or changed the cherished institution of peasant life,"
says one of the most easily excitable Narodniks, Mr. K n, in
a book on the forms of land tenure among the Russian people;
the serfdom could not obliterate it, its abolition could not be
brought about by the peasants leaving voluntarily for new lands
or by forcible expulsions , etc., etc., in a word,
The ages went by, a ll strived to be happy,
I n the world a ll repeatedly changed,186
but the Russian village commune remained unchanged and un
changeable. Unfortunately, this glorification, despite all its indispu*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] When I wrote these linos, only the first
part of Mr. N. ons study had been printed. It did not appear in its final
form until 1893 and was far from justifying the expectations I placed in it, and,
as the reader w ill now see, placed by others. In the final account Mr. N. on
turned out to be just as much of a utopian as Messrs. V. V., Prugavin, Tikho
mirov and others. It is true that he had incomparably more data than they,
but he treated them in an extremely one-sided way, using them only to cor
roborate preconceived utopian ideas based on a completely incorrect under
standing of Marxs theory of value. Mr. N. on's work made a very unpleas
ant impression on Engels, although he was very well disposed towards it.
In one of the letters he wrote to me, Engels says that he has lost all faith
in the Russian generation to which Mr. N. on belongs because no matter
what subject they discuss they inevitably reduce the question to Holy
Russia", i.e., they display Slavophile prejudices. Engels main reproach
against Mr. N. on was that he did not understand the revolutionary signif
icance of the economic upheaval Russia was passing through.184
OUR DIFFER EN CES
241
table eloquence, proves nothing at all. The village communes

display indubitable v ita lity as long as they do not emerge from
the conditions of natural economy. The sim plicity of the organ
isation for production in these self-sufficing communities that
constantly reproduce themselves in the same form, and when acci
dentally destroyed, spring up again on the spot and w ith the same
namethis sim plicity supplies the key to the secret of tho un
changeableness of Asiatic societies, an unchangeableness in such
striking contrast with the constant dissolution and refounding
of Asiatic states, and the never-ceasing changes of dynasty. Tho
structure of the economical elements of society remains untouched
by the storm-clouds of the political sky.*
But that same basic element of the barbarian societies which
stands firm against the storms of political revolutions turns out
to be powerless and defenceless against the logic of economic
evolution. The development of money economy and commodity
production little by little undermines communal land tenure.**
* Das Kapital, 2. Aufl., S. 371.,M
** The influence of money economy on the decline of primitive commu
nism is wonderfully described by Mr. G. Ivanov (Uspensky) in the family
community.
At present, says Mr. Ivanov (From a Village Diary", Oteehestvennlye
Zapiskl, September 1880, pp. 38-39), there is such an immense accumulation
of insoluble and difficult tasks in the life of peasant families that if the big
peasant families (I mean those near the towns) still stand fast, it is only,
so to speak, by observing the exterior ritual; but there is already little
interior truth. I fairly often come into contact with one of these big peasant
families. It is headed by an old woman of about 70, a strong woman, intelligent
and experienced iu her way. Rut she derived all her experience under the
serfdom and in an exclusively agricultural household, all of whose members
contribute lheir labour, the whole income going to tho old woman and she
distributing it at her discretion and by general agreement. Rut then a high
road was built and a barrel of cabbage sold to the carters began to bring
in so much that it was more profitable than a whole years labour on tho
ploughland of, say, one man. Tnis is already a clear violation of the equality
of lal>our and earnings. Then the machine came, calves hegan to get dearer
and were needed in tne capital. One of the sons became a coach-ilriver and
in half a year he earned as much as the whole fam ily in the country in a year.
Another brother became a dvornik in Petersburg and got fifteen rubles
a monthmore than he sometimes got in a whole year. Rut the youngest
brother and the sisters barked trees the whole spring and summer and did
not earn a third of what the coachman earned in two months.... And thanks
to this, although everything appears to be well in the family, and each one
contributes equally by his labour, it is not really so: the dvornik concealed
four rod notes from his mother and the conch-driver still more. And how
could thoy do otherwise? The girl worked her fingers raw with the tan the
whole summer for five rubles while the coachman got twenty-five in a single
night for driving gentlemen round Petersburg from midnight till dawn.
Besides, the old womans authority would have still meant quite a lot if the
family's earnings had been only the result of agricultural labour. In this
matter she is in fact an authority, but the question is: what docs she know
about a dvornik's, a coachmans or other new earnings and what a piece of
I B0 13 29
242
G. l LEKH ANO V
Added lo this there is the destructive influence of the state which

is compelled by the very force of circumstances to support tho
principle of individualism . It is set on this road by the pressure
of the higher estates, whose interests are hostile to the communal
principle, as well as by its own ever-growing needs. The develop
ment of money economy, which in its turn is a consequence of the
development of the productive forces, i.e., of the growth of the
social wealth, brings into being new social functions, the mainte
nance of which would be unthinkable by means of the former
system of taxes levied in kind. The need for money compels the
government to support all the measures and principles of social
economy which increase the flow of money into the country and
quicken the pulse of social and economic life. But these abstract
principles of social economy do not exist of themselves, they arc*
only the general expression of the real interests of a certain class,
namely that of trade and industry. H aving emerged partly from
the former members of the village commune and partly from other
estates, this class is essentially interested in m obilising immovable
property and its owners, since the latter are labour-power. The
principle of communal land tenure is an obstacle to both of these
aims. That is why it first arouses aversion, and then more or less
resolute attacks on the part of the rising bourgeoisie. But neither
do these blows destroy the village commune at once. Its downfall
is prepared by degrees. For a long time the outward relations of
the members of the commune apparently remain completely un
changed, whereas its inner character undergoes serious metamor
phoses which result in its final disintegration. This process is
sometimes a very lengthy one, but once it reaches a certain degree
of intensity it cannot be stopped by any seizures of power by
any secret society. The only serious rebuff to a victorious individu
alism can be given by those social forces which are called to being
by the very process of the disintegration of the village commune.
Its members, who were once equal as far as property, rights and
obligations went, are divided, thanks to the process referred to,
advice can she give on the matter? Her authority is, therefore, purely fictitious
and if it means anything it is only for the women who remain at home; but
even the women know quite well that their husbands only appear to have
a respectful and submissive attitude to the old woman; the women have
a very detailed knowledge of their husbands earnings and know whether
a lot is hidden from the old woman and by whom, and they themselves keep
those secrets as close as possible. The authority of the head of the family
i9 fictitious and so are all the family and communal relations; each one hides
something from the old woman who is the representative of those relations,
and keeps it for himself. If the old woman dies, the large family will not
remaiu as much as two days in its present state. Each one w ill wish for
more sincere relationships and this wish will inevitably lead to something
elsethe desire for each to live according to his income, to enjoy as much
as be gets.
OUH D IFFEREN CES
into two sections. Some are attracted towards the urban bourgeoi
sie and try to merge with it in a single class of exploiters. All
the land of the village commune is little by little concentrated
in I he hands of this privileged class. Others are partly expelled
from the commune and, being deprived of land, take their labourpower to market, while others again form a new category of com
mune pariahs whose exploitation is facilitated, among other
things, by the conveniences afforded by the commune organisation.
Only where historical circumstances elaborate a new economic
basis for the reorganisation of society in the interests of this lower
class, only when this class begins to adopt a conscious attitude
to the basic causes of its enslavement and to the essential condi
tions of its emancipation, only there and only then can one ex
pect" a new social revolution w ithout falling into Manilovism.
This new process also takes place gradually, but once it has start
ed it will go on to its logical end in just the same way with the
ri'lentlessness of astronomic phenomena. In that case the social
revolution does not rely on possible success of conspirators but
on the certain and insuperable course of social evolution.
Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur, we may say addressing
the Russian village commune. It is precisely the recontness of the
development of money economy in Russia that explains the stabil
ity which our village commune has shown u n til recently and which
still continues to move poor thinkers. U ntil the abolition of the
serfdom nearly all the com m unaland to a groat extent the state
economy of Russia was a natural economy, highly favourable to
the maintenance of the village commune. That is why the commune
could not be destroyed by the political events at the time of
lhe principality and veche system and the Moscow centralisation,
of Peter's reforms and the drum-beat enlightenment of the
Petersburg autocrats. No matter how grievous the effect of these
events was on the national welfare, there is no doubt that in the
final account they themselves were not forerunners of radical
upheavals in the public economy, but only the consequence of
the mutual relations existing between individual village com
munes. The Moscow despotism was based on the very ancient
foundations of the life of the people that our Narodniks are so
enthusiastic over. However, both the reactionary Baron von
Ilaxthausen and the revolutionary agitator Bakunin understood
this clearly. Were Russia isolated from the economic and political
influences of West European life, it would be difficult to foresee
when history would undermine at last the economic foundation
of the Russian political set-up. But the influence of international
relations accelerated the natural, though slow, process of develop
ment of money economy of commodity production. The Reform
of February lO was a necessary concession to the new economic
16*
244
G. PLEK HA NO V
trend and in turn it gave it new strength. The village commune

did not, and indeed could not, adapt itself to the new conditions.
Its organism was overstrained, and one must be blind not to notice
the signs of its disintegration now. Those are the facts.
3.
DISINTEGRATION OF OUR VILLAGE COMMUNE
The process of disintegration of our village commune affects

even its outward appearance. I stood for a long time on the edge
of a graveyard loooking at the outward appearance of villages
(lying below at the foot of a hill), says Mr. N. Zlatovratsky.
W hat variety! On one side, a group of houses, apparently decrep
it, having two windows and thatched roofs__ On the other side
new houses w ith three windows each, roofs of planks and separated
by a broad passage; between them I could see green iron roofs
w ith weather-vanes on the chimneys. And then a third group,
long and w inding like a worm, where, side by side w ith the man,
sion of a well-to-do kulak, there was a structure something between
a cabin and a hovel, hardly rising above the ground.* Correspond
ing to this outwardly very picturesque variety we have a variety
of figures expressing the budgets of different households.
Mr. Zlatovratsky says that the village commune which he selected
for study displayed, in spite of its small size, fairly extreme
degrees of economic inequality, from those sitting on a money bag
and munching nuts for days on end to the widow of a hussar, living
in misery w ith a whole crowd of children; and this village was
very clearly divided into the sunny side and the cold side. And
yet this commune was an example of the average new village
of the type to which the Russian villages in general tend, while
some have managed to go much farther in the same direction,
i.e., in the direction of disorganising the foundations of the old
village as tho representative of the principle of labour and econom
ic equality . Mr. Zlatovratsky knows that such villages still
exist and that there are still many of them in which you can feel
and see the strong, unshakable foundations of the old community
life. But there used to be more of these villages than there are
now."** Now, indeed, what the author of Everyday Life calls the
atmosphere of village duplicity and double-facedness , which
is the inevitable consequence of the splitting of the village com
mune into diverse sections w ith completely irreconcilable inter
ests, is becoming more and more rooted in the countryside.
On the one side you see the kind-hearted enterprising peasant
who has no more than a one-person allotm ent and yet manages
*
11. r i i a T o n j i a T C K n i i , J lo p c B O H C K n e 6yflmt*, C.-TToropoypr, 1S80, d p . 9.
[N. Zlatovratsky, Everyday Life in the Villages, St. Petersburg, 1880, p. 9.)
** Ib id ., p. 191.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
245
to cultivate three, four or even five allotments belonging to his

Associates who are unable to cope w ith them"; and on the other
side you see before you those very weak householders, the ob
scure , the poor", etc., who either work themselves as wagelabourers for their leaseholders or close up their houses altogether
and go away, God knows where, and never return to their native
village commune . And there are quite a lot of these poor people.
No. 2922 of Novoye Vremya, of A pril 18 this year, gave the follow
ing very significant report: Here is a fact the authenticity of which
is borne out officially. Out of the 9,079,024 households in the v il
lage communes in Russia (not counting the Vistula and Baltic
regions), there are 2,437,555 which have not a single horse. This
means that one out of every four peasant households has no horse.
Hut a peasant who has no horse cannot farm on his own account.
This means that one-quarter of the rural population of Russia
should not be included in the number of agriculturists running
their own economy. * B ut tho peasant who cannot run his econo
my independently is a candidate to the title of proletarian, a can
didate who must be confirmed in that title in the very near future.
Though he avoids for the present being exploited by the big
capitalist employer, this peasant is already completely dependent
on the small usurer's capital of the village kulaks or even of the
mere "clover masters . How the clever enterprising peasants
treat their impoverished commune associates is soen from the
already quoted Mr. Zlatovratskys book.
The newspaper took this information from the book Census of Horses
(n
m2.
The average conclusion drawn here is corroborated by the private studies

io separate gubernias and uyezds. For instance, for Tambov Gubernia, which
is more or less wealthy, we have the following figures:
Spasskoyo{
Uyezd
Households having
no horses
Households
with
ono horse
Households with 2
or 3 horse*
Teinnlkovj
Uyoid
21%
21.6%
41%
42.9%
33%
31.3%
Morshansk
Uyezd
Borisoglebsk
Uywd
(See Mr. Grigoryevs article Zemstvo Statistic Research on Tambov

Guberniu", Russkaya MysL, September 1884, p. 79.) In Pokrov Uvezd of
Vladimir Gubernia (ICudykinsk District) 24 per cent of the householders
have no horses. In Yuryev Uyezd of the same gubernia, the percentage of
horseless householders is not particularly great but, on the otner hand, we
fiad many households with only one horse. And such families must indispu
tably be classed among the weak ones with only a small capacity for agri
culture. However, there are some regions in the same uyezd (Nikulskoye
Volost) where the horseless households make up from 19 (landlords peasants)
lo 24 per cent (state peasants) of the total. In Spasskoye Volost only 73 per
cent of the householders cultivate their soil themselves.
24f,
G. P LEK HA N O V
But do those shut-up houses belong to the airy people?

the author asks his interlocutors.
Airy ... th a ts what they are! the interlocutor says with
a smile, for they fly, like birds! For a time they sit tight, try to
settle down and make ends meet on their dessiatine, and tlu*n up
they get and fly away. They ask their neighbours to lease their
plot so that their passports w ill not be delayed, tiiey invoke the
name of God, stand a treat of vodka, undertake to send money
in addition, and all they ask for is that the neighbours should
do them the favour of taking the land. A nd, of course, the neigh
bours do ... that suits us, the enterprising peasants... what hap
pens is that if these people come back and want to have their
land again they have nothing to cultivate it w ith: they hire them
selves out to the leaseholder as wage-labourers on their own land....
Each gets what the Lord sends him !
Do you like the commune of such enterprising peasants , read
er? If so, your taste hardly resembles that of the airy people,
who invoke the name of God to be freed from the land. And note
that these people are quite right in their way. The difference
between their sympathies and yours is determined by the very
simple circumstance that the commune which you like in no way
resembles the one which the airy people have to deal with. In
your im agination you picture the ideal village commune which
may appear after the revolution in the Narodnik or Narodovoltsi
fashion. But the airy people have to do w ith the real village com
mune in which their irreconcilable antagonist, the enterprising,
clever peasant has already asserted himself and self-complacently
repeats, in our commune the poor w ill not hold out, there is no
air for them, and if it were not for them, would we be able to live?
Were it not for these airy people, our life would be very
cramped.... But now, if you release the airy people sufficiently from
the mir, you w ill be more at ease .* The m ir which releases the
poor from itse lf is the m ir of kulaks and exploiters. Having
nothing to breathe , the airy people flee it as they would a prison.
But the clever peasant does not always give the poor their
freedom gratis. Jo ining in a single allotm ent four which belong
to his ruined co-villagers, he even demands money in addition
from them. Hence we get. amazing contracts like the following,
consigned to history by Mr. Orlov: In the year 1874, on Novem
ber 13, I, the undersigned, of Moscow Gubernia, Volokolamsk
Uyezd, village of K urvina, hereby declare to my peasant commune
9 f the village of K urvina that I, Grigoryev, give my land, an
allotm ent for three persons, for the use of the commune, in return
for which, / , Grigoryev, undertake to pay 21 rubles a year and the
* Everyday Life in the Villages, pp. 203-04.
247
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
said sum to be sent every year by the first of A pril, not counting
the passports, for which I must pay separately, and also for their
dispatch; which undertaking I pledge w ith my signature. If we
compare the payments exacted on peasants allotments w ith the
rent for them, it is obvious that this was not the only such case.
It has been concluded that the average size of the payments
effected on peasants plots in twelve uyezds of Moscow Gubernia
was 10 rubles 45 kopeks, while the average rent for a one-person
plot was no higher than 3 rubles 60 kopeks. Thus the average addi
tional payment made by the owner for a plot which lie hired out
amounted to 6 rubles 80 kopeks. Of course one comes across cases
in which the plot is rented at a price compensating for the payment
exacted upon it, says Mr. Orlov; but such cases are extremely
rare and can therefore be considered as exceptions, while the gener
al rule is that there is a bigger or smaller additional payment
besides the rent of the plo t.... I t is now understandable why the
peasants, as they themselves put it, are not envious of commune
land.* Anybody fam iliar w ith the famous studies made by
Mr. Yanson on peasants plots and payments knows lhat the dispa
rity noted by Mr. Orlov between the profitableness of allotments
and the total payments exacted on them exists throughout the
greater part of Russia. This disparity often reaches really terrifying
proportions. In Novgorod Gubernia payments on a dessiatine
of land for isolated groups of payers amount to the following per
centage of the normal income from the land:
On lands o[ slate p e a s a n ts .................................................
On lands of peasant proprietors:
of former appanage peasants.........................................

of former landlords' p e a s a n ts .....................................
of temporarily-bound peasants187..................................
160%
1(31%
ISOVu
210%
But under unfavourable conditions, i.e., when the peasant pro

prietors had to effect extra payments, when the temporarilybound peasants had only sm all plots and their general dues were
high, these payments reached:
for peasants having bought their liberty up to . . . .
for temporarily-bound peasants up t o ..............................
275%
565%.**
In geueral, comparing the data collected in Volume X X I I of

The Works of the Taxation Commission w ith the figures given in the
report of the agricultural commission, Mr. N ikolai on found that
the state independent peasants in 37 gubernias (therefore not
*
Collection of Statistical Reports on Moscow Gubernia, Section on
Economic Statistics, Vol. IV , No. 1, Moscow, 1879, pp. 203-04.
** Report of the Imperial Commission for the Study of the Present Con
dition of Agriculture, etc., Section 3, p. 0.
248
G. PLEK H A N O V
counting the western gubernias) of the European part of Russia

pay 92.75 per cent of the net income from the land they have,
i.e., for all their needs they have 7.25 per cent of the income
from the land left. Hut the payments demanded from former
landlords peasants amount to 198.25 per cent of the net income
from the land, i.e., these peasants arc obliged not only to surren
der the whole of their income from the land, but to pay as much
again out of their outside earnings . Hence it follows that the
poor peasants released by the m ir" must in the m ajority of cases
pay a certain sum every year for the right to give up their plot and
be free to move around. This indisputable conclusion is confirmed
by facts in every case in which the peasants economic relations
have been studied w ith any attention. For example, in the sandy
region of Yuryev Uyezd, V lad im ir Gubernia, as Mr. V. S. Pruga
vin says, the paltry, ungrateful plot of soil is a burden for the
economy, the land is a stepmother for the peasant. Here, far from
the plot compensating for the payments imposed upon it, the one
who rents out the land has moreover to pay out 8 - 1 0 rubles on
each plot, since the average rent for a cheap plot in this region
is 4-5 rubles a year per person .* Weighed down by the burden of
taxation, ruined by stepmother earth , the rural poor fall into
the most desperate position. On the one hand, lack of resources
prevents them from cultiv atin g the land that they have, and on
the other hand, the legislation in force forbids them to renounce
ownership of the land, although it brings them nothing but loss.
W7hat does such a state of affairs lead to? The answer is quite
clear. As Mr. Orlov says, those householders who have given up
their land detach themselves into a special group and are so to
speak rejected and banned from the commune; the latter divides
into two parts, each of which enters into hostile relations towards
the other; enterprising peasants consider those who have given
it up as a heavy burden, having in tho m ajority of cases to answer
for them under the collective responsibility, and there is generally
nothing they can get out of them; those, on the other hand, who
have given up their land, being finally ruined and having ceased
corn-growing, are compelled to go elsewhere w ith their families
in order to earn; at the same time, although they do not make
use of their plots, they have to pay a ll the taxes levied on them,
for otherwise the m ir does not give them their passports and, be
sides, scourges them at tho volost adm inistration offices for failing
to pay; obviously, in the eyes of those who have given up the land
the m ir is a burden, a scourge, a hindrance". It is easy to understand
*
B. C. npyrauim , Co.ibCKan o 6 in im a n t .
IOpbCBCKoro ye3aa,
BjiaaiiMupcKoii ryo., Mockbu, 1884, r;i. I l l , CTp. 93-95. |V. S. Prugavin,
The Village Commune, etc., in Yuryev Uyezd, Vladim ir Gubernia, Moscow,
884, Chapter I I I , pp. 93-95.]
OUH DIFFER EN CES
249
that the lin k between these two sections of the village commune
is purely exterior, artificial and fiscal; w ith the dissolution of
this link the final disintegration of the groups mentioned must
inevitably take place: the village commune w ill consist only of
corn-growers, while those who have given up their land, having
no means of starting to farm again and gradually losing the habit
of agricultural work, will finally bo transformed into landless
people, which is what they are now in actual fact.*
At a ccrtain stago in the disintegration of the village commune
there almost necessarily comes a time when the poorest of its
members begin to revolt against this form of land tenure which
for them has become a scourge and a hindrance . At the end of
lhe last century the poorest peasants in France often demanded
the sharing out of the communal lands either because, not having
any cattle, they made no use of them or because they hoped to
set up their own independent farm; but in that case they had
against them the farmers and the independent owners generally,
who sent their cattle to graze on these lands .* * It is true that
tho contrary sometimes took place, i.e., the poor wanted to keep
their communal pastures and the rich seized them for their own
pxclusive use; but in any case there is no doubt that the rural
commune was an arena of fierce struggle between material inter
ests. Antagonism replaced the original solidarity.*** The same
antagonism is to be noticed now, as we saw, in the villages of
Russia, the desire of the poor to withdraw from the village com
mune being manifest at earlier stages of its disintegration. For
instance, the ploughlands in Moscow Gubernia have not yet gone
over to private ownership, but the oppression of state taxes is
already making the poor section of the peasantry hostile to the
\illage commune. In those communes where conditions are unfa
vourable ... to conduct agricultural economy ... the middle
peasants are for tho maintenance of communal tenure; but the
peasants of the extreme sections, i.e., the most and the least
prosperous, incline towards the replacement of the communal system
by a family and inheritance system."**** Tho kulaks and those who
have given up the land strive equally to break off their link w ith
the village commune.
How widespread is this striving? We already know that it is
manifest where conditions are unfavourable for all households
to conduct agricultural economy , and where some of the house
*
Op.ion, C f io p u t iK CTaTiK'Tii'i. cncx", C Tp. 55. lOrlov, Collection of
Statistical Reports, p. 55.]
** Kareyev, op. cit., p. 132.
*** Une commune est presque toujours divisee par la difference des esprits
qui la gouvernent et qui opponent leurs vues particulieres au bien general
(quoted by Kareyev, p. 135).
**** Orlov, pp. 289-90.
25(1
G. PLEK HA N O V
holds gradually become poor and weak and then lose their agri
cultural economy altogether, cease to engage in corn-growing,
turn exclusively to outside employments and thus break off their
immediate ties w ith the commune lands . Wherever such a
state of affairs is observed, the striving of the poor to break
away from the village commune is so natural that it is an already
existing fact or a matter of the very near future. Wherever the
cause is to hand, the effect w ill not be long in becoming visible.
We also know that in the m ajority of our village communes
conditions, far from being favourable, are sim ply impossible.
Our economy, both as a state and as a specifically popular econo
m y ,188 now rests on a most unreliable foundation. To destroy that
foundation there is no need of either miracles or unexpected events:
the strictest logic of things, the most natural exercise of the func
tions of our modern social and economic organism are leading us
to it. The foundation is being destroyed sim ply by the weight
and disproportion of the parts of the structure we have built
011 it.
How quickly the economy of the poorest section of the commune
loses its balance can be seen partly from the figures given above
on the numbers of households which have no horses, and partly
and more clearlyfrom the following significant facts. In Podolsk
Uyezd, according to the 1869 census, 1,750 personal allotments
out of 33,802, i.e., 5 per cent, were not cultivated; expressed in
dessiatines, this means that out of 68,544 dessiatines of peasants
ploughland 3,5(54 were abandoned. Exact data about the number
of plots not cultivated in 1877 were collected only for three volosts,
the finding being 22.7 per cent of ploughland abandoned. Not
having any reason to consider those volosts as exceptions and,
therefore, presuming that abandonment reigned to the same
degree* in the rest of the uyezd, we find that the area of uncultivat
ed land rose from 3,500 dessiatines to 15,500, i.e., four- to fivefold.
A nd that in 8 years! This approximate determination of the area
of abandoned ploughland is corroborated by reports on the number
of householders who did not cultivate their plots .** And indeed,
whereas in 1869 the number was 6.9 per cent of those who received
plots, it increased to 18 per cent by 1877. That is the mean figure
for the whole of the uyezd. In some places the increase in the num
ber of householders who did not engage in agriculture was much
more rapid. In Klyonovo Volost the figure rose from 5.6 per cent
in 1869 to 37.4 per cent in 1877. B u t even that is not the extreme.
In eleven villages taken by the investigators as examples, we
*
Tho reader w ill immediately see that, this assumption is completely
just i lied.
** Moscow Gubernia in the Works of Its Zemstvo Statisticians", Otechettrenniye Zapiskt, 1880, Vol. 3, p. 22.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
251
find that in the time lapse indicated cattle-rearing dropped 2 0 .6

per cent and the area of abandoned land increased from 12.3 to
Vi.3 per cent, that is, more than half tho population was obliged
in 1877 to seek earnings outside agriculture . In localities which
had the most favourable conditions in that uyezd, in the villages
whore, as the investigators say, agriculture was flourishing , the
percentage of those who had given up the land more than doubled
nil the same, increasing from 4 per cent in 1869 to 8.7 per cent
in 1877. Thus this relative flourishing only delays the peasants
break with the land but by no means does away w ith it. The
general trendfatal to the peasantsof our national economy
remains unchanged.
But perhaps this uyezd is an exception to the general rule?
Hardly. Other uyezds in Moscow Gubernia just as in others in
the European part of Russia are in a sim ilar condition. In Serpu
khov Uyezd the number of householders not engaged in corngrowing attains 17 per cent, in Vereya Uyezd, 16 per cent. In
Gzhatsk Uyezd, Smolensk Gubernia, there are villages in which
as much as half or even three-quarters of the land has been aban
doned; ... peasant land cultivation on the whole in the uyezd
has decreased by one-quarter .* Not m u ltip ly in g figures and quo
tations, we can without fear apply to at least half of Russia what
Mr. Orlov said about Moscow Gubernia: Sharp contrasts appear in
the property situation of the peasant population: an enormous
percentage of the peasants are gradually losing a ll possibility of
engaging in agriculture on their own account and are being changed
into a landless and homeless class, while a negligible percentage of
the peasants are increasing their wealth in property year by
year.** This means that at least half of the village communes
in Russia are a burden for their members.
The Narodniks themselves are well aware of the irrefutability
of this conclusion. In the pamphlet Socialism and the Political
Struggle we have already quoted Mr. N. Z ., in whose opinion
the ill-fated village commune is being discredited in tho eyes
of the people.* * * Mr. Zlatovratsky too says somewhere that
now the village commune is dear only to old men in the country
ami intellectuals in the towns. F in ally , Mr. V. V'. himself admits
that the commune is falling to pieces as a voluntary association
mid there remains only tho society in the administrative sense
of the word, a group of persons forcibly bound together by collec
tive responsibility, i.e., each ones responsibility for the lim ita
tions of the powers of all the payers and the in ab ility of the fiscal
*
This information dates back to 1873. See Report of the Agricultural
Commission", Supplement, article Cultivation of tho Land, p. 2.
** Orlov, op. cit., p. 1.
*** See Sedelya No. 31*, 1883, In the Homeland.
252
G. P LEK HA N O V
organs to understand this lim itatio n . A ll the benefits that the

village commune once provided have disappeared and there re
m ain only the disadvantages connected w ith the membership
of the commune .* The so-called unshakable foundation of the
life of the people is being shattered daily and hourly by the pres
sure of the state. Capitalism would perhaps not need to enter into
active combat w ith this invincible armada 188 which, even with
out that, w ill be wrecked on the reefs of land hunger and the
burden of taxation.
But the Narodniks say Bah! to the present, really existing
village commune and do not cease to sing dithyrambs to the ubstract commune, the commune an und fur sich, the commune which
would be possible under certain favourable conditions. They
m aintain that the village commune is being destroyed owing to
external circumstances which do not depend upon it, that its
disintegration is not spontaneous and w ill cease w ith the removal
of the present state oppression. I t is to this side of their argument
that we must now devote our attention.
Our Narodniks are really amazingly m ild in the majority of
cases. They w illing ly lay the care of delivering the village com
mune from its modern captivity in Egypt on the very govern
ment whose efforts have reduced very nearly the whole of Russia
to poverty. Shunning politics as being a bourgeois pastime,
scorning all constitutional aspirations as being incompatible with
the good of the people, our legal advocates of the village com
mune try to persuade the government that it is in its own interests
to support the ill-famed foundations. It goes w ithout saying
that their voice remains tho voice of one crying in the wilderness.
Vaska the C at 190 listens, eats, and now and then brings down his
paw on the newspapers and journals which bore him really too
much w ith their explanation of his correctly understood inter
ests . The indisputable moral of the famous fable is an axiom in
social and political lifo too.
The question of freeing peasant economy from the conditions
which are unfavourable to it is thus reduced to that of Russia's
deliverance from the oppression of absolutism. We, for our part,
thin k lhat the political emancipation of our native country will
become possible only as a result of the redistribution of the na
tional forces which w ithout doubt w ill be caused, and is already
being caused, by tho disintegration of a certain section of our
village communes. B ut we shall speak of that later. Now we shall
make a concession to the Narodniks and forgot about the really
existing village commune to speak of the possible one.
,* Tlie Economic Collapse
\ol. 9, p. 149.
of llussia , Otechestvenriiue Zaplski, 1881,
OUR D IFFEREN CES

't. THE NA RO D N IKS
ID E A L
VILLAGE
253
COMMUNE
All our previous arguments were based on the assumption that

the Russian village commune w ill s till for a long time be weighed
down by unbearable taxation and land hunger. Let us now exam
ine the matter from another aspect. Let us adm it that thanks to
some circumstances or others the village commune w ill manage
to get rid of that burden. The question is: w ill the disintegration
of the commune which has already set in then stop? And w ill not
tho commune then rush to communist ideals w ith the speed and
impetuosity of Gogols troika ? 191
At present the total of the payments exacted on tho peasant
allotments is, in the m ajority of cases, higher than the income
from those allotments. Hence the quite natural desire of a certain
section of the peasantry to detach themselves from land which
only brings a negative rent. Let us now imagine the opposite case.
Let us picture that there has been a serious reform in our taxation
system and that the payments exacted on the peasant allotments
have become considerably less than the income. This general
case which we assume exists even now in the form of isolated
exceptions. Even now there are village communes in which the
laud is not a burden for the peasant, communes in which, on the
contrary, it brings him a definite, though not large, income.
The tendencies observed in such communes ought to show us what
the fate of the ancient form of our peasant land tenure should be
in the event of all village communes being placed in such compara
tively favourable conditions. Let us see what hopes, what ex
pectations the examples of these privileged communes can awake
in us.
In the Collection of Statistical Reports on Moscow Gubernia we
find the following highly im portant indication: General reallotments of village commune fields take place all the oftener accord
ing as the payments exacted on the commune lands are higher,
and as these (payments) are more out of proportion to the income
from the land. If the sum of the payments is not higher than the
income from the commune land, reallotments take place only
after long intervals of from 15 to 20 or more years; if, on the contra
ry, the sum of the payments exceeds the income from the land,
the intervals between realJotmenls are shorter, the reallotmenls
being repealed all the more frequently according as the proportion
between payments and the income from the land is greater, other
rnndilioiis being equal.* The same thing was noted by .Mr. Liohkov in Ryazan Gubernia. It is easy to understand what this
moans: it shows us that a lowering of lhe payments exacted on the
* Collection of Statistical Reports, Vol. IV, p. 200.
G. I LEKUANOV
peasants land would arouse a tendency lo lengthen the intervals

between reallotmeuts. To be more exact, however, we should say
that a lowering of the payments would only increase lhat tendency,
since it already exists even at present. A comparison of the mean
figures expressing the periods between general reallotments in
single uyezds and the figures expressing the frequency of reallotinents reveals a tendency to lengthen the periods between reallotrnents, and therefore to lower the number of reallotments, i.e.,
to lengthen the duration of tenure.* The same tendency is point
ed out in the Report" of the A gricultural Commission in regard
to other gubernias in European Russia. Many of our Narodniks
have great sympathy for that tendency. They thin k it w ill provide
the possibility of removing or extenuating certain inconveniences
in agriculture which are inseparable from radical reallotments
of commune lands. This is correct, but the misfortune is that the
inconvenient consequences of the commune principle w ill in this
case be removed only by means leading to the undermining of
that principle itself and which very much resemble curing a head
ache by cutting the head off. The lengthening of the period of the
allotm ent is one of the signs of the im m inent disintegration of
the village commune. In every place where this form of land
tenure has disappeared under the influence of growing individual
ism. its disappearance has taken place by a fairly long process
of adaptation of the village commune to the rising needs for indi
vidual immovable property. Here, as everywhere, factual relation!*
have anticipated juridical relations: land which was the property
of the whole commune remained longer and longer in the pos
session of a certain fam ily which cultivated it u n til, in the end.
the lengthening of the period of allotment prepared the ground for
the complete abolition of the antiquated juridical standards. The
cause of this is easy to understand and is easily revealed by any
at all attentive study of the process by which immovable property
becomes in div id u al property.
The village commune is no more than one of the stages in the
decline of primitive communism.** Collective ownership of the land
could not but arise in societies which did not know any other form ,
of ownership. The historian and ethnographer, Mr. Kovalevsky
rightly says, w ill seek the oldest forms of common ownership
not among the tribes that had already become settled, but among
the nomads who hunted and fished, and he w ill see in communal
land tenure of the former no more than the transposition lo immoi'- (
able property of a ll the juridical ideas and institutions which arose
* Ib id ., p. 158.
** (Note to the 1905 edition.] I repeat that the fiscal origin of oor village
commune has already been proved.
OUR DIFFER EN CES
255
under tho pressure of necessity among individual tribes when the

only means of subsistence were hunting and fishing.* Thus lhe
"juridical ideas and institutions connected w ith movable property
had a decisive influence on the character of immovable properly.
Far from weakening, this influence even grew still more when
movable property assumed an in div id u al character, lin t 011 the
other hand, it now look the opposite direction. Formerly movable
property tended to give a collective character to immovable
properly, becauso it belonged not to individuals but to the whole
tribe. Now, on the contrary, it undermines communal immovable
property because it does not belong to the whole village commune
but lo individuals. And this indubitable influence of movable
property on immovable was shown w ith particular force where,
as in agriculture, the very essence of the economic undertaking
demands simultaneous utilisation of articles of both private and
collcctivo property. The corn-grower needs first land available
for his use only for a certain time, and second, fertilisers, seeds,
draught animals and instruments of labour, which are his private
properly. It is in this point, of contact of the two kinds of property
lhat the disintegrating influence of individualism attains its peak
and victory falls all the sooner on its side according as tho objects
of movable (private) property acquire greater influence in agri
culture, i.e., as the given category of communal lands requires
more labour, fertilisers and care. That is why kitchen gardens
and lands attached to the house, being the object of more assid
uous cultivation, become hereditary property of the household
earlier than other lands, whereas common pastures anil waste lands,
which require only to be fenced in for the safety of the cattle
grazing on them, remain communal property longer than other
lands. Between these two extremes come the other communal
lands in ascending or descending order of the complication of
their cultivation.
Thus the lengthening of the period of the allotment is the natu
ral consequence of the increasing diligence with which the lands
are cultivated.
The following examples w ill explain this.
In the Zaozyorye village commune (Novgorod Gubernia) all
the ploughland is divided into two types: 1 ) steady lands and
2) ploughland. The former pass from one householder to another
only at radical reallotments, which take place only at inspections;
the second type of fields, ploughland, are divided among the house
holders every year before the autum n. This difference is deter
mined by the fact that steady fields are usually dunged and the
*
Communal Land Tenure, Ike Causes, Course and Consequences of ftn
Dutntrgrutlon, p. 27.
256
G. PLEKHANOV
peasants are satisfied w ith relatively long intervals from one

reallotment to the next, because, as they themselves say, one
must get some profit out of 1 he land, or else why the devil should
I work well on my strip if tomorrow I have to hand it over to somebody
else? More careful cultivation leads to more prolonged ownership,
and this in turn is naturally extended to other types of communal
lands which for some reason are considered by the peasants to be
of particular value, although their cultivation requires no particu
lar expense. In the same Zaozyorye commune the communal
hayfields are divided just like the ploughlands into several cate
gories; those of the first category, large water meadows along
the river Khorinka, are included only in the radical reallot
ment .*
The same phenomenon, only more pronounced, is to be found
in the Torkhovo commune, Tula Gubernia. Those householders
in this commune who fertilise their strips hold on to them and bring
themselves to yield them to another householder only in exceptional
circumstances.
In M ikhailov Uyezd, Ryazan Gubernia, the peasants do not
divide lhe dunged fields .
In Mtsensk Uyezd, Orel Gubernia, at the reallotments one strip
of land is left undivided so that each can fertilise it. These strips
are called dung strips. Each peasant has five sazh-en103 of such dung
strip, which is never reallotted".
In Kurmysh Uyezd, Simbirsk Gubernia, in recent years"
this was written in the early seventiesallotments of land are
made for longer periods, as a result of which agriculture is improv
ing and it is becoming a general custom to dung the fields.**
Tho connection between the lengthening of allotment periods
and improved cultivation of the fields is obvious from the exam
ples quoted. There is no longer any doubt that householders are
very un w illin g to part w ith land whose cultivation has demanded
any particular expense. This tendency to hold for as long as pos
sible strips once received in allotm ent would naturally become
much weaker if all the members of the commune had the material
possibility to fertilise their fields to the same extent. If all or
at least a considerable m ajority of the households could grow
corn with lhe same efficiency, there would not be any great differ
ence between the strips, and general reallotments of fields would
not be burdensome to anybody, said Moscow Gubernia peasant?
to Mr. Orlov. But such equality is of itself very unstable in a vil
*
Sec Collection of Material for the Study of the Village Commune, pub
lished bv Free Economic and Russian Geographical Societies, St. Petersburg.
1880, lip. 257-65.
** Report of the Agricultural Commission, Appendix I, Section I.
Chapter 2. Communal and Allotment Use of the Land.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
257
lage commune, in which economy is run by single households on the

commune land, and each individual me in her cultivates at his
own risk and peril the strip of land allotted to him . The number
of animals, the quality of agricultural implements and the labourpower of the fam ily are variable magnitudes which considerably
diversify the income of individual households. The development
of industry around or inside the village commune opens up new
means of earning and at the same lime new sources of inequality.
One household has no means at all oT earning outside, while
another earns a considerable part of ils income in this way. One
householder engaging in cottage industry becomes a small master
and exploiter of Ihe members of his own commune, while the fate
of another is to fall into the numerous category of exploited. A ll
this, of course, affects the economic capacity of the various house
holds. And finally, not all households bear the burden of state
taxation w ith equal ease. In this way the village commune is
divided into the sunny side and the "cold side into a section of
rich, enterprising peasants and a section of poor ones, who little
by little become airy people. Then reallotments become extreme
ly unprofitable for prosperous peasants. These are forced to
work not for themselves, but for their weaker and less prosperous
neighbours. It goes without saying lhat the well-to-do peasants
try to avoid this necessityunpleasant for them; they begin to
adopt a very unfavourable attitude to reallotments. We can there
fore say that the inequality which necessarily arises in the village
commune, also necessarily leads, at a more or less early period of the
commune's existence, to a lengthening of the period of allotment.
But the matter does not end there. W ith the lengthening of
the periods between the reallotments, the inequality among the
members of the commune, far from disappearing, is intensified
still more. Householders who have the means of cultivating their
allotments better now no longer fear that tomorrow their land
will pass into somebody elses hands. They cultivate it w ith
great industry and do not stop at expense to improve it. Their
troubles are naturally rewarded w ith better harvests. Tho wellcultivated strip of the prosperous householder brings in a greater
income than the hardly ploughed allotments of the village poor.*
As a result there is a repetition in the commune of the old and yet
ever new story told in ihe parable of the talents: the prosperous
*
In Spasskoye Volost, Yuryev Uyezd, Vladim ir Gubernia, if 12 mera.t193
of rye per person are sown, six hundred sheaves are harvested and five meras
are threshed from one hundred sheaves". Such is the average harvest. It
varies for peasants of various degrees of prosperity. The "well-to-do peasants
have the best harvestten hundred sheaves per person, and they thresh
six meras per hundred sheaves. The land-poor single woman peasants" have
the poorest harvests200-300 sheaves, each giving 3-4 meras". Prugavin,
The Village Commune, etc., p. 15.
G. P LE K H A N O V
258
householder becomes still more prosperous", the poor one still

poorer. The well-to-do householders l'orm among themselves a de
fensive and offensive alliance against the poor, who si ill have
a voice in deciding commune business and may still demand real
lotments. Desiring at all costs to m aintain their hold on the wellcultivated strips of commune land, and being hesitant or unable
to establish household possession by heredity, the well-to-do
peasants resort to the following clever measure. They separate
their lands into a special plot, from which allotm ents are made
only to prosperous householders. The commune lands are divided
into two unequal parts: one, comprising the better soil, is all
allotted to the prosperous corn-growers and is cultivated by them;
the other, which comprises the poorer soil, is allotted to the un
enterprising households and lies waste.* The poor are thus deprived
of any hope of ever having at their disposal tho well-cultivated
land of their fortunate neighbours. The character of the comnniDe
changes radically: from a buttress and bulwark for the poorer
members it becomes the cause of their final ruin. The lengthening
of the periods between reallotments, which appeared as a result of
inequality among the commune members, leads only to an accentuation
of the inequality and the final undermining of the village commune.
In their efforts lo achieve the fulfilment of their demands, our
reformers presume that they are working for the consolidation
of the traditional foundations which have withstood, etc., etc.,
which, being translated from Narodnik into hum an language,
means for the maintenance of communal land tenure. But life
has some very unpleasant surprises in store for them. The increase
in the allotments and the reduction of taxes result in the peasants
valuing the land, and where they value" it they do not like
reallotments and therefore endeavour to lengthen the periods
between them; but where periods between reallotments are length
ened inequality among the members of the commune grows, and
the peasants are gradually prepared by the very logic of things for
hereditary household ownership. Briefly, the measure recommend
ed as a means of m aintainin g the village commune only increases
the in stab ility of its equilibrium which already amazes the impar
tia l observer; Ibis measure w ill be a real gift of lhe Greeks for
the commune. It must be conceded that only w ith the help of a
very ardent im agination and a pretty big dose of ignorance can
one base any plans of reform on the shaky foundations of a form
of life which is in such a hopeless and contradictory condition.
The contradictions typical of the social form in question inevi
tably and fatally affect the way of thinking and the conduct of its
*
O p.ioB ,
<Do p m m
KpecTbHHCKoro
Forms of Peasant Land Tenure, p. 55.)
3(>MJioB,Taaoiin>i, cTp. 55. [Orlov,
OUR DIFFER EN CES
259
supporters. Our legal Narodniks, who are so prolific of a ll kinds

of recipes for supporting and consolidating the traditional founda
tions of tho Russian peoples life , do not notice that they are
all, in fact, coming more and more to voice the interests of the
section of the peasants representing the principle of individualism
and kulak enrichment.
Talk about popular credits and tender emotion at the so-called
"commune leases out of landlords estates can serve as new
examples of a short-sighted attitude to tho interests of the village
commune. In essence, neither the communal leases nor the petty
credit on land by any means consolidate tho foundations which
ore so dear to our Narodniks, they even directly undermine the
commune principle. We shall come back to this question, but
first of all we consider it necessary to finish dealing w ith other
causes of the disintegration of the village commune upon which
we have already touched.
We already know that the peasants favour the lengthening of
the periods between reallotments of the communal lands for tho
sake of their better cultivation. They do not want to work weir
on a strip which may soon go over to somebody else. Good c u lti
vation of the land presupposes the expenditure not only of the
worker's living labour but also of the inanim ate products of his
past work, of those means of production which in bourgeois econ
omy boar the name of capital.
These expenditures of capital are paid back over a more or
less long period of time. Some are refunded to the owner complete
ly in as little as one or a few years in the form of increased income
from the land; others, on the contrary, require a considerable
time to circulate. The first are called circulating capital expendi
tures, the second, constant capital expenditures. It goes without
saying that the more constant capital expenditures in peasant
agriculture increase, the more the rich and well-to-do householders
will intensify their striving to hold on to their allotments as long
as possible. The m anuring of the soil is not so great an expendi
ture, and yet we see that it is in itself enough to make a certain
section of our peasantry hostile lo reallotments. It is bad because
I have three cows, whereas he has one cock, the peasants of
Sengilevskoye Volost , 194 Yuryev Uyezd, say, commenting on roaliotment.* W hat, then, w ill the situation be when more rational
management, intensive cultivation and many-field system are
introduced? There can be no doubt that communal land tenure
is a serious obstacle to their consolidation. This form of land
tenure is already leading to abnormal phenomena such as refusal
to fertilise ploughlands. In Kaluga Gubernia some peasants
* Prugavin, The Village Commune, pp. 40-41.
17*
260
G. P LEK H A N O V
take all the clung out to the hemp-close and fertilise their fields
very little for fear that when there is a reallotment the strip may
go to another master". In Moscow Gubernia the dunging of ploughfields is stopped three years before reallotment . In Kineshma
Uyezd, Kostroma Gubernia, there are instances of well-to-do
peasants selling the dung they have accumulated because they
cannot bring themselves to use it for the fields for the reason?
already mentioned. In Tula Gubernia the fields belonging to
peasants who have not yet bought themselves free and are still
obliged to pay quit-rent become exhausted year by year through
not being fertilised, because for the last ten years dung has not
been taken to the fields but has been kept in reserve un til the real
lotment of the land". F inally in Syzran Uyezd, Simbirsk Guber
nia, it is obvious from many reports on rent prices that the lease
rent under communal land tenure (when whole allotments are
leased out) is on the average only half that of land which is pri
vate property, owned by a household hereditarily. There can be
no doubt about this fact, which can be easily authenticated from
books, transactions and contracts in the volost administrative
offices.
The explanation for this is that the mere cultivation of the
land, because of the negligible allotments fallin g to each house
holder, is a great inconvenience; this is a fact which is fully
acknowledged by the better-off and developed section of tho peas
ant population and it in turn gave rise to two things which must
be recognised as the most characteristic in the definition of the
present condition of peasant landownership. Firstly, in some
villages (Kravkovo, Golovino, parts of Fedrino and Zagarino)
the communes have decided to divide the communal land into
household allotments. Secondly, in a large number of villages,
in d iv id u a l householders redeem their allotments and demand
that they be detached from the communal lands. Sim ilar cases
are encountered in the villages of Repyevka, Samoikino, Okulovka and m any others; they would be far more frequent if there
were more order in the peasant adm inistration, but now, a certain
obscureness in the law, which is also aggravated by defects in
the peasant administration, willy-nilly holdsup redemption cases.*
But this does not exhaust the inconveniences of the communal
land tenure. The obligatory rotation of crops connected with it
also raises considerable obstacles to tho improvement of agri
culture.
Can there be radical improvements in agriculture, for example
in the Torkhovo village commune, Tula Gubernia, where it is
*
Report of the Agricultural Commission , Appendix I, Section 1.
Chapter 2, Conditions oi Peasant Agriculture.
__________________________ OUR D IFFERENCES_______________________ 2M
not allowed either to fence in one's field or to change the system of

field crop cultivation, or in the Pogorelki commune, Kostroma
Gubernia, where a throe-lield system, obligatory for all, is in
vigour? Such village communes aro by no means exceptions;
on the contrary, the order prevailing in them can be acknowledged
to be the general rule, based on the simple consideration that in
the event of fields being fenced in or the system of cultivation
changed by some member of the commune, for the sake of one
everybody would have to boar restrictions on the admission of
the cattle to fallow lands and stubble .* The elder and the peasants
of Tikhonov Volost, Kaluga Uyezd, stated that no farm work can
be done as the individual householder would like: he is not allowed
treble fallow ploughing when the others do only double fallow
ploughing, because the cattle are put out to graze on the fallow
land; for the same reason he cannot sow winter rye earlier than
the others; ho must start mowing at the same time as the others
because one is not allowed to mow before the hay meadows are
shared out, and he cannot mow after the others because the cattle
are driven from the fallow land; and thus in absolutely a ll kinds
of work there are sim ilar hindrances. Not to mention the intro
duction of new crops. This is impossible if they are sown later
than our plants, after the harvesting of which the cattle in the
commune w ill trample everything flat .** We can, therefore, say
that a struggle between the commune, on the one hand, and its
members, who see their advantage in a change in the system of
cultivation and have the necessary means, on the other, is inevitable.
And it is not difficult to foretell on whose side victory w ill be:
the rich w ill always dominate the poor, the peasants say; in the
present case, the rich m inority w ill dominate" the poor by using
the most terrible weapon which history ever created, i.e., im
proved means of production.
Much paper has been filled by our Narodniks to prove that the
village commune in itself, i.e., by the ossence of the principle
on which it is based, is not hostile to any improvements in agri
culture. A ll that is necessary is for a ll the members of a given
commune to set about such improvements, or, still better, to
cultivate the land collectively, they said, and far from meeting
difficulties, the matter will be considerably eased by the absence
of private ownership of tho land. That is right, of course, but then
there are many possibilities whose conversion into realities can
be thought of only under certain conditions which are impossible
at the time in question.
*
Collection of Material for the Study of the Village Commune, pp. 1G1
nntl 2M.
** Report", Conditions of Peasant Agriculture'.
G. P LEKHANOV
// only frost the flowers did not blight,

Flowers would bloom in winter a ll rightP'
the song says. And that is true, but can one prevent frost in our
climate in winter? No? W ell, flowers w ill not bloom in winter
except in hot-houses. Our peasants could eat oysters with champagne,
if only ... if only they had the means. The importunate question
of the means has always been the cold water that cooled the fire of
M anilovs im agination. If a ll our peasants had the means not to
cultivate their fields according to improved methods, but simply
to keep up the traditional three-field farm ing, we would not have
the agrarian question which Messrs. the Narodniks are working
so hard and so unsuccessfully to solve. R eality tells us that an
enormous proportion of our peasantry have no such means, imd
once they have not got them neither in d iv id u a l householders nor
tho whole state either desire or have any reason to put off the
improvement of the cultivation of the land u n til the majority
of the commune members recover : has not our antediluvian
wooden plough already played enough tricks on us in the tight
for the market, if only with the Americans, who do not postpone
the use of the steam plough t ill the golden age of fraternity and
equality?
Consequently we can say that the introduction of improved methods
of agriculture w ill be a new factor in the disintegration of our village
commune unless by some miracle the inequality which already
exists in our modern reformed" countryside disappears. But we
shall speak of miracles later.
But what is improved agriculture? Is it a negative condition
of social development, the product of unfavourable influence sur
rounding the tiller of the soil, or is it, on the contrary, the result
of the abolition of those unfavourable influences, the effect of
a rise in the level of the peasants material welfare? It seems to us
that the second assumption is more correct than the first. Now
the m ajority of the peasants are very poor and the system of
collective responsibility threatens even the well-to-do minority
w ith ruin. I t is easy to understand that they are not interested
now in intensive cultivation of the soil. But place them in better
conditions, remove the burden of taxation which is oppressing
them, and even the collective responsibility system w ill cease
to be a threat to the rich peasants: the fewer insolvent members of
the commune there are, the less responsibility the rich will
have. Confident of their future, the better-off section of the peas
antry w ill begin to th in k of serious improvements in cultivating
the soil. But then they w ill come into conflict w ith the commune
and w ill have to engage in a mortal struggle w ith it. The conclu
sion, therefore, again forces itself upon us that improvement in the
OUll D IFFEREN CES
263
material welfare of the peasantry w ill intensify the in stab ility

of communal land tenure and render more frequent the phenomena
already observed in Tambov Gubernia, for instance, where peas
ants who become rich introduce ownership of plots, but as long
as they are poor they adhere to communal ownership, with reallot
ment of the fields .* Our patient is poorly, so poorly! lie is now
so exhausted that he is rotting alive and yet a ll the nutrition
recommended by our legal N arodnik homeopathists as a means
of restoriug his strength can do nothing but hasten the process
of disintegration that has already begun.
But is it not time to finish w ith the village commune? Have
we not already shown a ll the factors of its disintegration? By
no meansl There are m any, very m any such factors. A ll the prin
ciples of modern economy, a ll the springs of modern economic life
are irreconcilably hostile to the village commune. Consequently,
to hope for its further independent development" is as strange
as to hope for a long life and further development of a fish that
has been landed 011 the bank. The question is not what hook the
fish has been caught w ith, but whether its respiratory organs are
adapted to the surrounding atmosphere. And the atmosphere of
modern money economy kills our archaic form of land tenure,
undermines its very foundation. Do you want illustrations?
Here are some.
We have already seen what a destructive effect money economy
has on (he fam ily community. Let us now look for examples of
its influence 011 the rural commune, the village commune proper.
5.
REDEMPTION18*
Here we have ihe redemption of lands, which is supposed to

present Russia with a new estate of peasant landowners. Some
village communes have already redeemed their lands. How has
this affected their inner structure?
As long ago as in the Collection of Statistical Reports on Tambov
Gubernia," says Mr. L. S. Lichkov,** it was pointed out, inciden
tally, by V. I. Orlov that the system of redeeming lands had very
great influence upon the abolition of land reallotment among the
peasants, for it m aintained and spread among the peasantry Ihe
view that redeemed land was their personal, inalienable property
My colleagues and I, in collecting statistical data, also had occa
sion lo note ihe same thing in Ryazan Uyezd.
It must be admitted that Mr. Lichkov was able to note a highly
curious and instructive phenomenon. In Ryazan Uyezd, he
Report of the Agricultural Commission, Appendix I, Section II, p. 178.
* See his article Redemption as the Destroyer of the Village Commune",
Dyelo No. 11, 1881.
264
G. P LEKHANOV
says, the peasants who have redeemed land do not at a ll reallot

Iheir lands in village communes where land is valued, whereas
those who are temporarily bound, especially the state peasants,
do effect land reallotments. The peasant landowners, on the other
hand, reallot the land only where land is not valued, i.e., where
it is not really the land that has lo be shared, but the burdens
which it brings.... It is extremely characteristic that in all lhe
redeemed communes where the land is divided out among the
actual members this distribution is done not after, but before or
at the time of the redemption (generally with the intention of never
dividing it any more). But since the redemption there is not a single
communeexcept those in which the land is poor and only a bur
den lo the peasants not a single one, I say, in which land was
reallolted, notw ithstanding the obvious inequality of its distri
bution. However annoying it may be, one must all the same admit
this and other facts, which are characteristic of peasant interests
by no means favourable to the village commune one must admit
this because one must look every fact in the face and not embellish
it w ith phrases harm ful to the cause.
The tendency of the lands redeemed by the peasants to become
privateor more correctly household property is not observed
only in Ryazan Gubernia, the same can be seen in other places.
In Krestsy Uyezd, Novgorod Gubernia, after redeeming land
approximately half the former landlords peasants resolved by
decision of tho village commune to distribute all the land by allot
ments including strips in different fields according to the number
of persons and to abolish reallotments for ever. Sim ilar cases
are noted in the Report of the Agricultural Commission for
Kaluga Gubernia as well. In the village of Starukhino, Tula
Gubernia, communal lands have not been reallotted since the
time of the Reform. In the event of partial reallotments the
number of persons who received shares at the Reform serves as
the standard for the allotm ent. Even in the case of the division
of a fam ily the same persons are counted, without any consideration
for minors. The plot belonging to the household is never divided
and goes over to the fam ily. As we see, the commune principle
has made no few concessions to individualism in this village
of peasant proprietors, notw ithstanding that, as Mrs. Y. Yakushkina says, they see communal land tenure as the only means of
preventing people from becoming landless. The objective logic
of things proves stronger than the subjective logic of the peasant.
But here there is still struggle and disagreement between these
kinds of logic, while in Borok commune (Pskov Gubernia), which
redeemed its land in 1864, the subjective logic of the majority
long ago closely allied w ith the objectivo logic of money economy.
When the poor demanded a new reallotment the answer they were
OUR DIF FEREN CES
265
given was lhat although those who now have extra allotments
do not own them by law (according to the number of persons),
all the same they have cleared those allotments of taxes (redemp
tion payments) and it would therefore be unjust to deprive thorn
of those allotments .* In another village in the same district
the following typical case occurred: One of the peasants adopted
a waif and asked the commune lo give an allotm ent from the com
mon field; then the foster-father redeemed the plot for 1 0 0 rubles,
i.e., exempted it for ever from reallotment." Here, too, the redemp
tion of the land was hostile lo communal land tenure.
This case loads us on to (he redemption of the land not by the
village commune as a whole, but by individual members. Such
a procedure is admitted by law and is not seldom practised.
Sometimes peasants who have ultim ately redeemed their allot
ments continue to hold them on the former commune principle,
hut sometimes they oppose reallotment and then the commune
is obliged to consider them as proprietors. In the village of Soroguzhino in Yuryev Uyezd, V ladim ir Gubernia, there are three
houses of full proprietors who have ultim ately redeemed their
plots, two of them agreed unconditionally to radical reallotmont
with all its consequences (change of site by lots, decrease in size
of plots, etc.). while one demanded that his plot should be enlarged
and the commune gave him wbat he needed by adding strips of
land to the edges of each field.** In the villages of Khoroshovka
and Nikolayevskoye, in the same gubernia, there are fu ll pro
prietors and the village communes intend to allot them, if only in
separate strips, a completeplotcqual to the one they redeemed.***
Sometimes, on the contrary, the commune is opposed to owners
leaving it, and then the redemption of the land itself is retarded.
Thus, in Tambov Gubernia many peasants desire to redeem their
plots individually, hut the village communes do not allow such
redemptions in order not to exempt the rich peasants from the
collective responsibility system. Sometimes the village commune
gives householders who have redeemed their allotments the far
thest and most inconvenient plots. That is why peasants buy fur
more often land from others than they redeem their own**** in
Kharkov Gubernia.
These facts suffice to show how unstable the equilibrium of
communal relations is becoming owing to redemptions. It is true
that the final juridical transit ion to hereditary ownership by house
hold, far from being the necessary direct result of r demptior..
is, on the contrary, a comparatively rare thing. The peasant is
* See the Collection quoted above, article by Mr. P. Zinovyev, p. 30b.
** Prugavin, The Village Commune, p. 19.
** Ibid.. p. 48.
**** Report of the Agricultural Commission", Section II.
266
G. P LEK HA N O V
conservative, but he is particularly so in his attitude to the land.

13ut that does not change things. O nly in name do the mutual
relationships between those who have redeemed their land resemble
the "m ir" of the good old tim e the time of natural economy, serf
dom and the complete absence of means of communication. The
basis of distribution of land is no longer the need of this or that
householder, the q u an tity of labour-power in his family or,
finally, even taxes or dues. New birds sing new songs. The peasant
proprietors do not like reallotments and are not embarrassed by
the needs of their neighbours. The aged villagers moan and com
plain about the people being spoilt , the intelligentsia sigh still
more earnestly and when they see to their distress that the deteri
oration of morals" is irrepressibly penetrating into the countryside,
they hope only for the revolution which w ill put everything
right, smooth out everything and restore to the village commune
the freshness it had in the time of Gostomysl . 186 But what is
surprising in this phenomenon, which so distresses the old men"
in the villages and the Narodniks in the capital? Nothing at all.
.Morals have not deteriorated, they have only been given another
economic basis. Formerly the land belonged to the tsar, to God
or whoever you like, but it was not bought. It was enough for
a peasant to succeed in being accepted into a village commune
and he received the right to use the land, restricted, sometimes,
only by the lim itations of his own labour-power. And the comniune was in general the master of the territory it occupied, it had
authority everywhere its axe, its scythe and its wooden plough
went. Serfdom fettered and debased the tille r but did not change
his attitude to the land. We belong to you and the soil belongs
to us, the peasants used to say to the landlords. And now the
time has come when the peasants have ceased to belong to the
masters, but on the other hand, tho soil has also ceased to belong
to the peasants. It has to be redeemed, to he paid for in money.
W hat is money? It is first and foremost a commodity, and a com
modity which has a very special character; a commodity which
buys all other commodities, a commodity which is the measure
and the expression of their value. Needless to say, this special
commodity cannot be an exception to the general laws of commod
ity production and circulation. On tho contrary, it is the vehicle
of those laws, it extends their operation to every place where it
happens to make its appearance, through the hazard of some
exchange transaction. B ut what are the laws of commodity pro
duction? W hat is a commodity and where does it come from?
Com modity production develops only in a society in which the
means of production, and therefore the product, are the private
property of the producer; w ithout this condition no division of
labour would be enough to give rise to commodity production.
'
j
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
207
Hence, commodity production is the result of the development

of private property. Money, which naturally grows out of commod
ity exchange, presupposes a private owner in exactly the same
way as does, generally speaking, the entire process of commodity
production. Ind iv id u al members of the village communo can ac
quire money only in exchange for things that are their private prop
erty, although they are produced by cultivating communal land.
And it. is this money that the peasant must now pay as the price
of redemption.
But money begets money in the sense too, incidentally, that
the means of production and the materials for manufacture which
it buys are themselves exchange value, the equivalent of the sum
of money paid for them and again transformable into money
should the buyer wish. Consequently, objects bought by some
person must become his private property. Such is the irrefutable
logic of money economy. And it is that logic which is now taking
up the struggle against tho tradition of communal land tenure.
The redemption of land introduces into the peasant m ir a contra
diction which can be solved only by the final disintegration of
the village commune. By force of habit and traditio n, and partly
also by conscious conviction, the m ir endeavours to preserve the
old collective principle of land tenure after the mode of acquisition
of that land has become entirely based on the new, money, individ
ual principle. It goes w ithout saying that that endeavour cannot
bo fulfilled, that it is impossible to transfer to collective owner
ship of the m ir objects which were acquired in exchange for the
private property of individual householders.
Although the Statute on Redemption stipulates that peasants
allotments will be redeemed as communal property, says
Mr. Lichkov, nevertheless, the payment of a redemption, customari
ly (i.e., by force of facts, which are always stronger than any ju rid i
cal standards, and stronger again than any juridical contradic
tions), iseffected in most communes by the members of the commune,
according to the quantity of land. The sum of the redemption pay
ment decreases every year as payment proceeds. Here is what
may happen as a result of this: having punctiliously paid the
redomption money for a period of as much as two or three decades,
peasants may be deprived at a reallotment, of a considerable por
tion of the land they have redeemed; on the other hand, those
who have not paid anything may get land for nothing. In other
words, each further instalment on Ihe redemption price, while
apparently increasing the right of the one who pays it to the land
redeemed, by the very fact brings him nearer to the time when he
will be actually deprived at the first reallotment of this right
which he has earned by his sweat and blood. It is understandable
that the peasant cannot fail to notice this practical contradiction.
208
0. PLEK HA N O V
We have already seen that this contradiction can be solved only

by the abolition of reallotments and the confirmation in possession
of the land of those who have paid for its redemption.
By January 1883, 20,353,327 dessiatines of land had been
redeemed by the peasants. As the total land in use by llie peasants
is reckoned as 120,628,240 dessiatines, we can support what has
been said above w ith the statement that the redemption of land
has already managed to place one-sixth of the peasant lands in
conditions which arc incompatible with the principle of the vil
lage commune.
The extent to which the communal land tenure principle is
incompatible w ith the redemption of land, or purchase for money,
is clear from the following. In Moscow Gubernia some peasant
communes have, besides the land allotted to them, gift land",
that is, land given gratis when they were granted freedom by
their former landlords. W ith the exception of but a single vil
lage gift land is everywhere owned by the communes. But in
cases when peasant communes buy land from the landlords owner
ship of the portions falling to each household is always estab
lished by inheritance and by household, each household receiv
ing the right freely to dispose of and alienate part or the whole
of its portion by sale, gift, etc. Thus the size of the portion belong
ing to each household taking part in the redemption of the land
remains fixed.*
It is exactly the same in Pskov Gubernia: in cases when peas
ants acquire estates, examples of which are not rare , tenure is
settled as non-communal.
But that is not all. Mr. N ikolai on justly remarks that redemp
tion forces the producer to turn more and more of the product
of his labour into commodities and consequently to lay more and
more firmly the foundations of capitalist economy".
From what has been said it is clear how naive the Narodniks are
when they see the development of sm all land credit as means of
consolidating the village commune and fighting capitalism. As is
their rule, they recommend exactly those measures which can
only hasten the trium ph of the bourgeois relationships which
they hate so much. On the one hand, all projects aimed at improv
ing the material condition of the producer and based on credit,
far from being able to improve his position, on the contrary, bet
ter the condition of a few and worsen that of the m ajority. On the
other band, often lands which have been redeemed, and always
those which have been bought and the better the land is, the
more often this happens become the personal property of the
one acquiring them.
* Orlov, Forms of Peasant Land Tenure In Moscow Gubernia.
OUR DIF FEREN CES
269
In tho case of the lease of landlords' or state lands, the peasant

mir is also transformed into an association of shareholders respon
sible for one another, an association in which the distribution of
the lands leased is effected proportionally to the amount of money
contributed. Where, in this case, is the commune, where are the
traditional foundations?
Incidentally, the peaceful Narodniks are not the only ones who
are moved by facts of more than doubtful significance. Even the
terrorists can boast of such delicacy. Mr. Tikhomirov, for exam
ple, in his war against people who are convinced of the inevitabil
ity of Russian capitalism, points out that the quantity of land
belonging to the peasants is slowly but steadily increasing. He
apparently considers this fact so significant that he gives it w ith
out any comments whatsoever. But after all that has been said
here about the significance of money economy in the history of
the village commune's disintegration, we are entitled to consider
the increase of the quantity of land owned by the peasants as a
fact which is extremely ambiguous, to say the least.. R eality
fully justifies our scepticism.
In Moscow Gubernia the amount of land bought by the peas
ants increased in 12 years from 17,680 dessiatines to 59,741.
So here we see that very slow but steady increase noted by
.Mr. Tikhomirov. Fine. But how is this new land distributed
among the peasants? O ut of 59,741 dessiatines 31,858 belong to
no more than G9 owners, i.e., exceed the usual dimensions of peas
ant fanning, and 10,428 dessiatines consist of plots exceeding 100
d e s s ia t in e s How are we to understand this kind of peasant
property? Does it prove that the bourgeois system cannot oxist
in Russia? In that case we could say of Mr. Tikhomirov what Prou
dhon once said of Adam Sm ith: he sees and does not understand,
he speaks and does not realise the meaning of what he is
saying!
It is now time for us to finish with the problem of the village
commune. We have expounded our views on its history generally
and its position in Russia in particular. We have supported what
we have said with facts and examples and have often compelled
the Narodniks themselves to speak in our favour. Our study has
been necessarily brief and superficial. Not only could we not list
all the phenomena which confirm our thought and have already
been noted by investigators, the limits of our work also prevent
ed us even from pointing out all the tendencies which are now
of great importance in the life of the tiller of the land and whose
development is incompatible with commune principles. But
despite all that, we can say that our statements have not been
* V. V ., The Destinies of Capitalism, p.
136,
270
G. P LEK HA N O V
unsubstantiated. The examples cited and the tendencies indicated

perfectly suffice to defend our statements. No serious doubt is
possible. Every im partial observer sees that our village commune
is passing through a grave crisis, and that this crisis itself is
approaching its end, and that prim itive agrarian communism is
preparing to give way to in div id u al or household ownership.
The forms of this ownership are very diverse and it. often pene
trates into the countryside under the cover of the usual communal
relationships. But the old form has not the power to change the
new content: it w ill have to adapt itself to it or perish for ever.
And this upheaval which is becoming more and more intense,
this process of disintegration which is spreading daily in width
and depth and affecting an ever-increasing area, is introducing
radical changes in the peasants customs and outlook. W hile our
Slavophile revolutionaries console themselves w ith the consider
ation that three-quarters of our factory workers are not at all
proletarians and half of them work in the factories only seasonally
and accidentally ,* the peasants themselves realise full well that
the village commune of today is far from being what it was for
merly and that the links between the tiller of the land and the
land itself are being increasingly severed. The young, my dear
friend, are running, running away from the lan d.... The town is
attracting them, the peasants say in Mr. Zlatovratskys Every
day Life in the Villages. And, indeed, the town is more and more
subordinating the country to itself, introducing into it its civili
sation , its pursuit of wealth, its antagonism between the rich and
the poor; it is elevating some and lowering others, creating the
educated kulak and a whole army of airy people , ignoring the
lamentations of tho old peasants and pitilessly pu llin g the ground
away from under the feet of our reformers and revolutionaries of the
old, so to speak, physiocratic fashion. And here, in the attitude to
this process of the radical recasting of our rural foundations, the
absolute powerlessness of the outlook which Marx and Engels branded
as metaphysical is clearly shown. To the metaphysician, things and
their mental reflexes, ideas, are isolated, are to be considered one
after the other and apart from each other, are objects of investi
gation fixed, rigid, given once for all. He thinks in absolutely
irreconcilable antitheses. Ilis communication is yea, yea; nay,
nay ; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of e vil . For him
a thing either exists or does not exist; a thing cannot at the same
time be itself and something else. 197 That is Mr. Tikhomirov's type
of outlook and method of thinking. For him people is a fixed and
*
What Cnn We Expect from the Revolution? , pp. 228 and 236, Vestnik
Narodnoi Voli No. 2.
OUR DIFFER EN CES
271
invariable concept given once and for all; for him the village com
mune either exists or does not exist, for him the peasant who
is a member of the commune cannot at the same time bo himself
and something else , i.e., in the given case a representative of
the principle of individualism , an unw illing, and yet irresistible
destroyer of the commune. Mr. Tikhomirov thinks in absolutely
irreconcilable antitheses; he cannot understand how one can
acknowledge the action of capitalism to be useful and at the same
time organise the workers to fight it; how one can defend the principle
of collectivism and at the same time see the trium ph of progress
in tho disintegration of one of the concrete manifestations of that
principle. As a man who is consistent and can sacrifice himself our
metaphysician presumes that the only thing to do Jor the people
who are convinced of the historical inevitability of Russian capi
talism" is to enter the service of the knights of prim itive accumu
lation. His reasoning can be taken as a classic example of meta
physical thought. The worker capable of class dictatorship
hardly exists. Hence he cannot be given political power. Is it
not far more advantageous to abandon socialism altogether for a
while as a useless and harmful obstacle to tho immediate and
necessary aim? Mr. Tikhomirov does not understand that the
worker who is incapable of class dictatorship can become more
and more capable of it day after day and year after year,
and that the growth of his ability depends to a great extent
upon the influence of the people who understand the mea
ning of historical development. The way our author lalks is
yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cuineth
of evil.
At first sight this mode of thinking seems to us very luminous,
because it is that of so-called sound common sense. Only sound
common sense, respectable fellow that he is, in the homely realm
of his own four walls, has very wonderful adventures directly he
ventures out into the wide world of research. 198
We already know what wonderful adventures Mr. Tikhomirov's
common sense went through during his peregrinations in the
realm of suppositions: very often there was not the slightest trace
of it left. But the history of that common sense is in the final acroimt a dialectical history too. It does not exist and does exist at
one and the same time. It comes to grief on the reefs of supposi
tions. and yet, like Rocambole resuscitated, it again appears in all
its splendour on the more beaten track of reasoning.
We shall not, of course, forego the opportunity of once more
meeting this merry companion. But now we must pause to remem
ber the direction of the road we have already traversed on the
initiative of Mr. Tikhomirov.
272
G. P LEK HA N O V
6. SMALL LANDED PROPERTY
We have seen that in the field of processing industry large-scale

capitalist production is now developing without stopping and
that, armed with the power of capital and the might of modern
technology, it is increasingly knocking the small producers out of
their positions, defeating and subjugating them. We then said
1 hat the home market is entirely ready to serve large-scale produc
tion and that on the international market, too, by no means all
accesses and exits are closed to it. From this we concluded that
in this sphere not only the immediate future, but the present too
belongs to capitalism. But we recalled that the Narodniks see the
village commune as an impregnable bulwark against capitalism
in our country, where the bulk of tho peoples labour still goes
to cultivate the land. Then we turned to the commune and tried
to study its position today. This study brought us to the conclu
sion that the commune is being crushed under the burden of taxes
and disintegrating under the influence of money economy and of
the inequality which has arisen in it, and that in many places
in Russia, far from having its former calling of preserving and
defending the interests of all its members w ithout exception, it is
being transformed into a commune of kulaks, the destruction of
which would bring nothing but profit to the village poor whom it
has enslaved. Not satisfied with these results, we tried to deter
mine what would be the significance of the reforms upon which
our friends of the people rely so much. We came to the conviction
that these reforms would only intensify the disintegration which
has set in in the village commune, and that the latter could not
in any case be the bulwark against those conditions of production
which have already inflicted upon it so many incurable wounds.
It now remains for us to say a few words on small peasant agri
culture and then we shall be in a position to draw our final conclu
sion about capitalism.
It would be a great mistake to think that what is called the
abolition of large-scale agriculture w ill save us from capital
ism. First of all this abolition can only prove to be a temporary
and transient phenomenon, and secondly, even small-scale
agriculture strives to adopt a bourgeois character. That very Amer
ican competition that our big landowners fear w ill leave its mark
mi the peasant too. Transforming our corn-growing into produc
tion of a corn commodity it will subordinate all the tillers of
the soil to the implacable laws of commodity production. The
result of those implacable laws will bo that at a certain stage in its
development commodity production w ill lead lo the exploita
tion of the producer, will give birth to the capitalist employer
and the proletarian worker. Thus, the question of small-scale or
o i :k
d if f e r e n c e s
273
large-scale agriculture in Russia only boils down to Ihe question

of victory for tho big or for the small bourgeoisie. The traditional
foundations of peasant economy, far from being consolidated
by I lie "abolition of large-scale agriculture , w ill suffer much more
owing to the complete transposition into the peasantry of all
tin* contradictions of commodity production. And all the sooner
will Hie peasant estate divide into two hostile camps the exploit
ing minority and the toiling majority.
7. CONCLUSION
If, alter all we have said, we ask ourselves once more: W ill Rus
sia go through the school of capitalism? wo shall answer without
any hesitation: W hy should she not finish the school she has
already entered?
All the newest, and therefore most influential, trends of social
life, nil Ihe more remarkable facts in the fields of production and
exchange have one meaning which can be neither doubted nor
disputed: not only are they clearing the road for capitalism , they
themselves are necessary and highly important moments in its
development. Capitalism is favoured by the whole dynamics of
our social life, all the forces that develop w ith the movement of
tho social machine and in lheir turn determine the direction and
speed of that movement. Against capitalism are only the more or
less doubtful interests of a certain portion of the peasantry and
also that force of inertia which occasionally is felt so painfully
by educated people in every backward, agrarian country. But
Hie peasants are not strong enough to defend lheir real interests:
on the other hand, they are often not interested enough lo defend
with energy the old principles of communal life. The main stream
of Russian capitalism is as yet not great; there are still not many
places in Russia where the relations of the hirer of labour to the
labourer correspond entirely to the generally current idea of the
relations hoi ween labour and capital in capitalist society; but
towards this stream are converging from all directions such a
number of rivers, big and sm all, of rivulets and streamlets, that
the tolal volume of water flowing towards it is enormous, and
there can be no doubt that the stream w ill grow quickly and vigor
ously. For it cannot he stopped, and still less can it be dried up:
all lhat remains possible is to regulate its flow if we do not want
it In bring us nothing but harm and if we are not abandoning
hopo of subm itting at least partly the elemental force of nature
to the rational activity of man.
Rut what must we Russian socialists do in this case, we who
are accustomed to thinking that our country has some charter
U -01329
274
G. PLEK H A N O V
of exceptionalism granted to it by history for services which

body, however, is aware of?
It is not difficult to answer that question.
A ll laws of social development which are not understood work
w ith the irresistible force and blind harshness of laws of nature
B ut to discover this or that law of nature or of social d eveW
ment means, firstly, to be able to avoid clashing w ith it and, con
sequently, expending ones efforts in vain, and, secondly, to be
able to regulate its application in such a manner as to draw profit
from it. This general idea applies entirely to the particular case
we are interested in. We must utilise the social and economic up
heaval which is proceeding in Russia for the benefit of the revolu
tion and the working population. The highly important circum
stance that the socialist movement in our country began when
capitalism was only in the embryo must not be lost on ns. This
peculiarity of Russian social development was not invented by
the Slavophiles or the pro-Slavophile revolutionaries. It is an
indisputable fact which we are all aware of and which will be
of great benefit to the cause of our working class on the condition
that the Russian socialists do not waste their energy building
castles in the air after the style of the principality and iw/ieepoch.
Chapter
IV
CAPITALISM AND O U R TASKS

1. CHARACTER OF THE IMPENDING REVOLUTION
What was said at the end of the last chapter needs to be ex

plained. The least ambiguous views are erroneously interpreted
when the purpose of the interpretation is to defend somebodys
"programme . We must dot our fs, because if our opponents do
not see the dots they may by misunderstanding take the Vs for
some other letter. It is always bolter to draw the conclusions from
one's premises oneself than to rely on the good w ill of others.
Besides. Russian programmatic questions have been adapted so
exclusively to our exceptionalism that it cannot be considered
as a waste of time lo examine them from the standpoint from
which exceptionalism appears as nothing else but Slavophilism ,
either "devoted w ithout flattery 199 or rebellious and going over
to Ihe revolutionary camp. Whether that standpoint is correct or
not, whether they who adhere to it argue rightly or wrongly, there
can be no doubt, at any rate, that it would be unjust lo reproach
them with repeating theories w ith which everybody has long
been acquainted and many have been bored.
What, I him, must a certain section of the socialists do once
lliey are convinced of the historical in ev itability of Russian
capitalism? W hat real profit for the cause of the Russian working
class can be drawn from the circumstance that the beginning of
the socialist movement in our country almost coincided w ith the
fall of the economic system of the good old times? Those are
<|iiestions which we are bound to answer.
We shall not forget thal obligation. But for the lim e being it
is not our turn to speak, but, as you w ill remember, Mr. T ikhom i
rovs. and he must make use of it in accordance with all laws,
both divine and human. We have acquainted ourselves fairly
briefly and w ith great profit w ith tho general principles of his
philosophical-historical and socio-political theory. In order to
enlighten those wrho do not understand and to beat dissenters
Mr. Tikhomirov paraded before us old woman history with her
unbelievable roads , Western Europe w ith its capitalism, and
finally Mother Russia with her Chinese im m o bility and her land
18*
276
G. PLEK H A N O V
commune. He made both the past and the present clear for us.
But can we content ourselves with that? W ill we refuse to look
into the future?
W hat does that future hold out for Russia?
It seemed to us that first and foremost it held out the triumph
of the bourgeoisie and the beginning of the political and economic
emancipation of the working class. This outcome seemed to us to
be the most probable in view of many, many facts. We investigated the present condition of our national economy and came
to the conclusion that 110 reforms whatsoever would save its
ancient foundations. But in so reasoning we were forgetting that
at times the history of hum anity proceeds by the most unbelie
vable roads. Mr. Tikhomirov firmly recalls that basic proposition
in his philosophical-historical theory, and, therefore, in his excur
sions into the realm of the future, he is not embarrassed by the
incredibility of the picture he draws. Let us follow him and see
whether Narodnaya V olyas revolution w ill not be more effective
than Narodnik reforms.
The first thing that awaits us on our road is very pleasant news.
A revolution is impending in Russia, we are going towards a
catastrophe. That is very pleasant, although, to tell the truth,
one experiences a feeling of fear when Mr. Tikhomirov begins to
explain the moaning of this already menacing picture in the highflown style of old Derzhavin. The governments attempts lo re
tard the revolutionary movement in the country are only hasten
ing the dawn of the terrible and solemn moment when Russia will
enter at high speed (!) into the period of revolutionary destruc
tion like a rushing river, etc. Mr. Tikhomirov writes splendid
ly! But you cannot feed a nightingale w ith fables, even if they
are written by grandfather Krylov. There is no arguing: the pe
riod of revolutionary destruction would be a happy period in
the history of our country, but we should like to know all the
same what the revolution can bring Russia, what awaits us be
yond that mysterious line where the waves of the historic stream
seethe and foam.
The foundation of the socialist organisation, Mr. Tikhomirov
answers, contrary to the opinion of some who presume that it
is the reign of capitalism that awaits us.
How can one fathom the whiins of fortune! Yes, history is
really an incredible old woman! It was she who led the West
through the incredible experience of her roads, and yet she
has still not freed it from capitalist production; as for 11s, she
has left us in peace, w ithout urging us on for whole centuries,
and now she wants to move us straight up to the highest class in
her school. W hat virtues is that a reward for? Perhaps for having
sat quiet all that time and not having importuned her with those
i
I
I
'
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
277
indiscreet questions at which the free-tongued West is such a

master?
However, we are beginning lo fall into impermissible freedom
of tongue" ourselves. Our scepticism is completely out of place
if we consider that history loves occasionally to follow improb
able ioads just as Khlestakov sometimes loved to read some
thing amusing. Credo, quia absurdum ! 200
Acknowledging as entirely probable the most improbable ca
prices of lhe whimsical old woman, we nevertheless permit oursel
ves a question: W hat has history at its disposal to fulfil lhe
promise made by Mr. Tikhomirov in its name? Through which
countries does the road loading us lo lhe foundation of socialist
organisation lie?
How will our author answer lhal question? W hat will Vestnik,
whose editor he is, say?
We ask our readers not to forgel that the programme of Veslnik
tXarodnoi Voli embraces elements which are to a certain exlent
not identical with one another . Each of these elements defends
its own existence, each aspires lo live and develop, not always
without damage lo its antagonist. Hence lhe contradictions and
the impossibility of forming a clear idea of this journals pro
gramme. One thing is obvious: Mr. Tikhom irov does not consider
himself bound either by what his co-editor says, or even by what
he says himself in cases when the solo gives place lo a duet and
the honourable P. L. Lavrov joins his voice to Mr. Tikhom irovs.
For instance, according lo what Mr. Lavrov says, the Narodnaya
Volya party directs a ll its energies*" (our italics) against the chief
enemy who hinders any al all rational approach to the fulfilment
of the task 201 formulated by one of tho members of our group**
as follows: to help our working class to develop inln a conscious
social force, lo make up lo some extent for the gaps in its histor
ical experience and to light with it for the emancipation of the
entire working population of Russia. If the reality corresponds to
what the honourable author of Historical Letters says, the actual
task of the Narodnaya Volya parly boils down to clearing the
way for Russian Sncial-Democracy of the future. Al tho same lime,
that partys role seems lo be entirely negative. Il prepares no ele
ments for the organisation of the Russian workers party, but
directs a ll its energies against the chief enemy who hinders not
only the solution but even an approach to the solution of such
a qne.slion. W hich enemy does Mr. Lavrov mean? Everybody will
agree lhal the only such enemy al present can be absolutism,
which fellers all the vital forces in Russia; all the more should
* See Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2. Section II, p. fi7.
* y 2 ;o2 j n jjjp foreword to the tnm.slution of Engels' Development
of Scientific Socialism, p. IX .
278
G. PLEK HA NO V
Narodovoltsi adm it (his as (hey have repeatedly expressed in Ihe

press the thought that in our country it is not the political struc
ture that is based on a definite kind of economic relations but on
tho contrary the latter are indebted to absolutism for their exis
tence. But if lhat is the case, then Ihe Narodnaya Volya parly is
fighting for no more and no less than the political emancipation
of its country, and the foundation of the socialist organisation
of Russia' is naturally put off until such limes as Ihe Russian
working class forms at last into a conscious social force. In other
words, Ihe Narodnaya Volya parly is first of all, and mainly, if
not solely, a constitutional parly because it now directs all its
energies towards the (lestruction of absolutism. Does it not seem
so? Or perhaps the Narodnaya Volya parly is not noted for any
partiality for a constitution? But then how are we to under
stand activity which boils down to the struggle against absolut
ism for Ihe possible implementation of the social-democratic
tasks in the future? Some Narodnaya Volya writers are not indeed
noted for a great partiality for the word constitution; they assert
thal their party strives for government by the people. But the
difference between government by the people and a democratic
constitution is just as great as that between galoshes and rubber
shoesit is no more than the replacement of the awkward Rus
sian word by the current foreign one. And besides, in every civi
lised society, democracy, or, if you like, government by the peo
ple, presupposes a certain political education in the people, unless,
of course, government by the people means government by a
group of persons who speculate on the w ill of the people. It means
that a democratic constitution is an aim which is not yet so near
and can be attained only by rallying the class of producers in a
democratic party of its own. But in Russia the chief enemy
hinders even any at all rational approach to the fulfilment of
the social and political tasks of the working class. So down with
the enemy ! Long live partiality" for political freedom, and
consequently for a constitution! The activity of the Narodnaya
Volya parly thus acquires a clear and definite meaning.
Such are the logical conclusions we come to when we read
P. L. Lavrov's bibliographical note. Everything here is clear,
although perhaps not everything attracts the sympathy of this
or that reader. Unfortunately bibliographical notes are not
enough to make clear the trend of a social-political journal, and
the only reason we here refer to Mr. Lavrovs note is that it con
tains a direct answer to our group. The leading articles them
selves and the outright statements by the editorial board of Vestnik
only confuse the question of the actual trend of the paper. Take
the Announcement of its publication and read the lines on the
method of achieving the general aims of socialism and you will
OUR D IFFEREN CES
279
tbink you are dealing with convinced Social-Democrats. These

aims, which are common to all socialists, say Messrs. the E d i
tors, "can be attained only in one way (note, reader!): the work
ing classin town and country must gradually rally and organ
ise into a social force united by common interests and striving
for common aims; this force must, in tho process of rallying,
gradually undermine the existing economic and political system,
consolidating its own organisation as a result of its very struggle
and growing in might until it finally succeeds in overthrowing the
existing system. The authors of the Announcement even add
that "socialist-revolutionaries in a ll countries are at one in their
awareness of the necessity of this way. One could think in view
of this that Russian socialism as expressed in the Narodnaya
Volya party is neither more nor less than Russian Social-Democracy. The Announcement obviously explains the tasks of the
Narodnaya Volya party still more clearly than P. L. Lavrovs
bibliographical note did ami comes even closer than the latter to
tin* views of thinking socialists in all civilised countries. We
know, however, that Russians often have two measures, two
criterions, to appraise social phenomena one for the West
and another for domestic use. Never refusing to sympathise with
the most progressive ideals of Europe, the Russian often con
trives to add to his profession of hum an faith a hut so full of
meaning that the ideals that are so dear to him are transformed into
something quite unrecognisable. Needless to say, the Announce
ment" which now claims our attention does not dispense with
such a but , and nothing definite can be said about Vestnik's
programme until it completes its difficult passage from West to
East. Lei us look at the Announcement from this dangerous side,
and rather more attentively too, for its authors are Russians and
probably nothing that is Russian is alien to them.
But the programme of Russian socialism, we read on the
same page V of the Announcement , cannot lim it itself to these
general aspirations of socialism at present and in the given
conditions. History has set before every social group in our time
these same tasks in a different form, according to the economic,
juridical and cultural conditions surrounding it. The Narodnaya
Volya party is convinced that these tasks are now inovitably set
before the subjects of the Russian Empire in the form of the neces
sity of changing the political structure of Russia to make possible
the further healthy development of every progressive party,
including" (our italics) the socialist party.... That is why side
by side with socialist aims, which form the essence of the Russian
socialist party's programme, this programme includes an imme
diate taskto prepare for and hasten a change in Russias politi
cal structure.
280
G. P LEKHANOV
II
must be admitted lhat this first but accompanying thn
setting forth of the general socialist aims of the Russian so
cialist party is enough to make them particularly vague and in
definite. A real equation with many unknowns! The reader is lift
completely in (lie dark as to what the editors understand by a
change in Russia's political structure. Is it the government bv
the people mentioned by Messrs. Tikhomirov and K.T.*03 or thr
overthrow of the chief enemy, etc., i.e., simply the fall of abso
lutism? And why does this immediate task stand side by side
with the general socialist aims and not follow from them by way
of logical consequence? We can only guess at all this. Many of
our guesses will be probable, but not one w ill be indisputable.
And in fact, the editors say that the change that is desirable to
them must make possible the further healthy development of
every progressive party, including the socialist party. Which,
then, are the other progressive parties? Apparently the bourgeois
ones, lint the healthy development of the bourgeois parlies in
the field of politics is unthinkable without a corresponding further
healthy development in the economic field. Does that mean that
bourgeois development w ill be progressive for Russia? That is
what apparently follows from the editors' words. As for us, we
are prepared, with some, very substantial, it is true, reservations,
to agree with that opinion. However, it is not a question of us
but. of one of the authors of the Announcement . Mr. Tikhomi
rov, who, as we know, recommends that his readers should not
idolise private business capital . From what he says about what
exactly such capital w ill be able to do for Russia it follows
that the further healthy development of the bourgeois parties
w ill perhaps be a net loss for Russia. And besides, the Anno
uncement hastens to state that the socialist party (like all the
other parties, we w ill note in passing) considers itself to be the
representative of pure and the only possible progress. Does
lh a t mean that there are no other progressive parties? But then
why speak of their further healthy development?
If, in the opinion of the Russian socialist party, the change in
Russias political structure must take place in the interests of
the progressive parties, and if, at the same time, there are no
other progressive parties but the socialist party, the change
referred to w ill take place exclusively in the interests of the lat
ter. In other words, the im pending revolution must lead at least
to the victory of the government by the people mentioned above,
i.e., to the political domination of the working class in town and
country. But socialist-revolutionaries in all countries are at one
in their awareness of the truth that the working class can only
gradually undermine the existing economic and political system,
and, therefore, also gradually bring nearer the time of its doini-
OUR D IFFERENCES
281
nation. In exactly the same way, socialist-revoliitionarios in all

countries agree, as the editors say, that tin* socialist revolution
con be allained only in oneway by gradually rallying and or
ganising 1lie working class into a social force , etc. Perhaps Vestnik
Sarodnoi Voli sees such organisation as lhe chief task of tho Rus
sian socialists? Hut wo already know that in present-day Russia,
according to Mr. Lavrov, there is a certain chief enemy" who
hinders any at all rational approach to the fulfilment of such a
task. And as long as this task is not fulfilled, the socialist revolu
tion is impossibleand so is government by tho people. So this
is not what the editors mean when they speak of a change in
Russia's political structure? Hut what do they mean, then, by
I his mysterious change? Not that same constitut ion partiality(or which is somewhat incomprehensible to Mr. Tikhomirov?
For which progressive parties is the Narodnaya Volya party
milking possible the further healthy development? Not the
party of private business capital?
How clear everything was in the West , and how dark every
thing has become in the East! And all this darkening is due to a
single but accompanying the setting forth of the general aims of
socialism. What a mysterious power does t-luit small word have?
The matter is quite simple.
It is precisely from the point we are interested in that tho pro
cess begins thanks to which the component elements of Vestnik's
programme prove to be to a certain (even rather significant) ex
tent not identical with one another . The East, enters into a
struggle with the West as soon as the setting forth of the general
aims of socialism and the only way leading to their fulfilment is
ended. And this struggle, smouldering and hidden at the begin
ning, rages in full fury in the article W hat Can We Expect from
the Revolution?" In it doubts are expressed over the West.
On the occasion of its history Mr. Tikhomirov goes into long and
rather hazardous arguments on the hazardous and unbeliev
able roads of history in general, and finally the only way to the
victory of socialism which the Announcement points out is
transformed into a stereotyped edition of the late N abat's pro
gramme merely supplemented with a few illustrations of Mr. T ikh
omirov's exceptionalism. Everything is changed beyond recog
nition, everything is transformed into its opposite on this side of
the small but which separates the western territory of the edito
rial world outlook from the eastern or, to be more exact, the
views in communal ownership by Messrs. the editors from those
which are Mr. Tikhomirovs private property. And all this transsubstantiation is effected by means of a few more buts picked
out of articles by I\ N. Tkachov. Needless to say, an argument
which is not convincing on the lips of N abat's editor will not
282
G. PLEK HA NO V
become any more convincing on the pages of Vestnik Narodnoi

Voli. But it is always pleasant to meet old acquaintances, and
if only for that reason we could not resist the temptation to draw
tho readers attention to Mr. Tikhom irovs arguments.
Like a true follower of B lanqui, or rather of Tkachov, when
Mr. Tikhomirov sets out to discuss some revolutionary question
he first of all tries to substitute his own w ill for historical deve
lopment, to replace the initiative of the class by that of a com
mittee and to change the cause of the whole working population
of the country into the cause of a socret organisation. It is not
easy to perform such tricks before the eyes of people at all ac
quainted w ith the propaganda of modern socialism or even only
half convinced that tho emancipation of the workers must be
conquered by tho workers themselvas. That is why our author
tries to prove that the cause of the Executive Committee will bo
the cause of the whole people, not only as interests go but also as
far as w ill and consciousness are concerned. Forced to admit that
historical development has so far but little promoted the elabora
tion of socialist consciousness and revolutionary (not merely
rebellious) tendencies in the Russian people, he endeavours
w ith all the more zeal to convince us of the stability and unshakab ility of the prehistoric forms of the Russian way of life and
outlook.
1he economic revolution which the West is approaching after a
long and difficult movement proves to be very close to us because
of our centuries of stagnation. But as a certain knowledge of
history can arouse doubts about that closeness, the reader is
reminded that the ways of history have sometimes been too crook
ed and the most hazardous that could be imagined . The peculiar
ity of our Bakuninists favourite scheme of Russian social
development thus becomes a manner of guarantee for its probabil
ity . And in a sim ilar way, the necessity of giving a class character
to the struggle for the economic emancipation of the workers is
also avoided.
Here too, all difficulties are successfully overcome by contrast
ing Russia to the West. In the West, there are classes which arc
sharply divided economically, and powerful and united politi
cally. There the state itself is the result of the class struggle and
its weapon in the hands of the victors. That is why the only way
in which it is possible to win state power there is to oppose one
class to another and to vanquish the victors. In our country it is
different. Here Ihe attitude of society to the state is the direct
opposite of what it is in Western Europe. Here it is not the class
struggle that gives rise to the given state structure, but, on the
contrary, that structure itself brings into existence the different
classes with their struggle and antagonism. If the state decided to
OUR D IFFEREN CES
283
cltnnge its policy, the upper classes, deprived of its support,

would be condemned to perish, and the popular foundations of
primitive collectivism would be given the possibility of further
healthy development . Hut the government of the Romanovs is
neither w illing nor able to renounce its landlord-bourgeois tradi
tions. whereas we are both w illing and able to do so, being in
spired by the ideals of economic equality and government by the
people". So down w ith the Romanovs and long live our Commit
tee! is the invariable line of argument of the Russian Jacobins,
whether in the original, i.e., in the Letter to Frederick Engels ,
or i/i the copy , i.e., in tho article W hat Can Wo Expect from
the Revolution?
We have already said that the basic premises of Tkachovs
prograrnmo are borrowed from the same source that the Russian
anarchists derived their political wisdom from. Bakuninist theo
ries lay at the basis of both groups teachings. But we know that
Bakunin's influence did not end there. He had pupils in the West
too. i.e., in the very countries which ho so readily contrasted w ith
Russia. And it is remarkable that the Western followers of the
author of Statehood and Anarchy attribute to the state the same
overwhelming role in the history of tho relations of their West
European classes as Messrs. Tkachov and Tikhomirov ascribe to
it in Russia alone, as distinct , so to speak, from other coun
tries. Suppress government dictatorship, says Arthur Arnoult to
the French workers, and there w ill be facing one another only
men of the same kind, only economic forces whoso balance would
he immediately established by a simple law of statics.... I t is,
therefore, the state, and the state alone, that is the cause of your
weakness and your misery, just as it is the cause of the strength
and tho impertinent presumption of the others.* In this case the
Western anarchists reason with greater courage and logic than
the Russian Bakuninists and Tkachovisls. In the history of every
country without exception they reduce to nil the significance of
the economic factor which their Russian partners hold to be
condemned to inactivity only in Russia. The distinctive feature
of Russian exceptionalism is thus turned into a cosmopolitan
spectre of anarchist ignorance. The objective condition for the
development of one country proves to bo a subjective defect, a
logical blunder of a certain section of Ihe socialists in all civi
lised peoples.
Losing, as a result of this, a considerable portion of their ex
cept ionnlism, the arguments of the Russian Jacobins are not,
however, lacking in a certain instructiveness. Not saying anything
new about how we must consider our reality, they show perfectly
V&tat et la rfix>lutlon, p. 65.
284
G. ILEKMANOV
well by their own example how we must not consider it, how we
must not interpret its characteristic aspects.
In the Russian Jacobins usual way Mr. Tikhomirov tries to
prove to his readers lhat, as Tkachov once put it, the lime we
are passing through is particularly favourable for the social revo
lution. He analyses the present-day balance of all thesocial
forces under conditions prevailing in Russia and comes lo llio
conclusion that nothing can come of the impending revolution
but the foundation of the socialist organisation of Russia,
lie did not need to go far for proofs. The Leiter lo Frederick
Engels is a concentrate of Russian Jacobin arguments which lias
preserved for a whole decade all lhe charm of freshness and novelty
for many, many readers. This concent rale has only lo he dis
solved in hot water of eloquence and it gives forlh all tho expecta
tions from the revolution typical of Air. Tikhomirov. Let us take
a closer look at this simplified way of preparing a new pro
gramme. We shall start w ilh the political factor.
W hat do we find in lhe Tkachov preserves on this point?
The reader w ill naturally remember lhe extensive excerpts made
above from the Open Letter lo Frederick Engels, lie will not
have forgotten Tkachovs conviction that although we have no
urban proletariat, but, on the oilier hand, we have no bourgeoisie
at all. Helween the suffering people and the state which oppresses
them we have no intermediate estate. And it is this absence of
a bourgeoisie that Mr. Tikhomirov takes as the foundation of
all his political arguments.
According lo him our bourgeoisie is negligible economically
and powerless politically. As for lhe people, they have certain
points on which I hey cannot be divided into groups (ml, on the
contrary, always appear unanimous (p. 251). The first of these
points turns out to be Iheir idea of the supreme power. The
fact is lhat tho supreme power in the view of the people is the
representative of the whole people, certainly not of classes. Only
the unshatterable firmness of this conviction provided support
for the power of the tsars themselves . And it is this conviction
that our supreme power represents lhe whole people thal strength
ens Mr. T ikhom irovs faith in the not distant trium ph or govern
ment by the people. The transition to the latter from the autocra
cy of the tsars is nothing original [?|. The French people went in
exactly the same way without any difficulty (?!] from the idea
of the autocracy of a king who could say T o ta l e'est moi to the
idea of the peuple souverain. The dom ination of lhe self-govern
ing people could not be set up in facl there because of the power
of the bourgeoisie ; but we have no bourgeoisie and therefore
nothing prevents tho trium ph of government by the people in
ur country provided the autocracy does not maintain itself Ion?
OUR D IFFEREN CES
285
enough to give the* bourgeoisie time to acquire the strength neces

sary to organise our entire production on capitalist principles .
Bill in its present chaotic, condition Russia can hardly w ail u n til
the bourgeoisie becomes so constituted that it can put any order,
even bourgeois, in that chaos.... Therefore, if we live to see the
destruction of the present system before this, the bourgeoisie has
none of the requisites for seizing political power".
Hence we sec that the time we are passing through is indeed
very favourable for the social revolution; on tho one hand, Rus
sia can hardly w ail, and, 011 the other, there is absolutely nobody
lint the people, and perhaps the revolutionary party, who can
seize power. P. N. Tkachov was perfectly right when he said that
the social revolution would be now, or in a very remote future,
perhaps never. But in lhat case 1 . L. Lavrov was wrong when
lie qualified this assurance as speculation on the ignorance of
Russian readers.
We also see thal on the question of Ihe political factor it did
not cost Mr. Tikhomirov much trouble to warm up Tkachov's
arguments, lie only had to complete I . N. Tkachov's general
arguments 011 Ihe power of the Western and the powerlessness of
the Russian bourgeoisie with a particular example. This example
was provided for him by tho great revolution thanks to which, in
all probability. Ihe French people would have become self-governing had they not been prevented by the power of the bourgeoisie.
Happy are those who have an absolute p r i n c i p l e said
X. G. Chernyshevsky. They need neither to observe facts nor to
think, they have a ready-made medicine for every disease, and
the same medicine for every one, like the famous doctor who said
to every patient: purgare el clystirizare__ Many people have
such ta lism a n s. For the m an of im p o rta n c e ' lo w h o m Akaky
\ kakiyevich201 a p p lie d a b o u t the theft of h is overcoat, the ta lis
man was a good s c o ld in g . For the econo m ists of Ihe ba c kw ard
school (hat ta lis m a n is the c h a r m in g m o tto : 'non-intervention of
the utate'". F inally, we s h a ll a d d on o u r p a rt, for Ih e Russian
socialists of a 110 less backw ard school the ta lis m a n is the b o u r
geoisie. References lo Ihe w eakness or c o m p le te absence of the
bourgeoisie give the answ er to a ll Ihe m osl d iffic u lt q u e s tio n s of
Ihe past, present and fu ture. M r. Tikhom irov is not the lasl a m o n g
the h a p p y possessors of th is p h ilo s o p h ic stone. Why was not g o v
ernment by the ppople set up in France? Because it was pre
vented by the power of the bourgeoisie . W hy w ill it bo set u p
in our c o u n try w hen Ihe people becom e d is a p p o in te d iu the a u to c
racy of the tsars ? Because ou r bou rg eoisie is w eak. W hy is it
lhat in the West the o n ly w ay of p u tt in g in to effect the a im s c o m
mon lo all so c ia lists is the slow and g ra d u a l road of o r g a n is in g
Ihe w orking class in lo w n and c o u n try i nt o a conscious social
28G
G. PLEK HA NO V
force, whereas in our country it is sometimes said that the

seizure of power hy the revolutionaries may provide tho start
ing-point. of the revolution', which, in turn, w ill bo tho startingpoint of the socialist organisation of Russia? Once again because
in our country the bourgeoisie is very weak and in the West it
is very strong. Purgare et clystirizarehow the theory of medicine
is simplified, how easy practice is made by this talisman! Unfor
tunately social questions are a little more complicated than those
of medicine, and, therefore, publicists who resemble Molieres
physician should have provided themselves w ith more ingenious
talismans. You can bet that the key which the Russian socialists"
have will not open for them the door of many historical questions.
W hy did not the Spanish people, when they became disappointed
in the autocracy of the emperors pass without difficulty to the
idea of self-government of the people? It is true that Spain is one
of the most Western countries in Europe; but even Mr. Tikhomi
rov would not dare to attribute great strength to tho Spanish
bourgeoisie, particularly at the beginning of tho present century.
And what is more, even the principles of communal land tenure
were, and still are, far more widespread in Spain than in any other
heretical land, as is proved by the recent investigations of Mr. Luchitsky.205 Try as you like, but you will not open this door with
Mr. Tikhom irovs key!
We take the liberty of coming to the help of the Russian social
ists" in these difficult circumstances. If two heads are belter than
one, we are just as much entitled to say that two talismans are
also better than one, even if it is a good one. W hy. then, not add
to the bourgeoisie another no less magic word, for instance C a t h o l
icism, prolestanlism or non-orthodox confession generally. It is
true this talisman is not now and has been rather worn out by the
conservative Slavophiles, all the same, it is hardly loss universal
than the bourgeoisie . For it is still very doubtful, whether it
is true that there is no bourgeoisie in our country, and if there is,
whether it is weaker than the bourgeoisie in all the Western
countries and in all the limes of disappointment of the people
in the autocracy of the tsars; but orthodoxy is beyond doubt a
truly and strongly Russian feature, quite alien to lhe European
West. It should he easy lo decide by means of orthodoxy what
hindered the setting up in fact of the dom ination of lhe selfgoverning people in Spain in the twenties, although there was
no strong bourgeoisie there. It would bo sufficient to point to C a
tholicism . R eally, you should try, gentlemen!
However, far bo it from us to think of belittling the importance
of Mr. T ikhom irovs talisman; not only do we know its worth,
we even want to try and apply it ourselves. W hy do thinking
socialists in the West know what they are talking about and not
OUR D IFFEREN CES
287
carry Mr. Tikhom irovs confusion into tin- questions they analyse?
Is it not because the bourgeoisie in the West is stronger than ours?
It seems very much so! Where the bourgeoisie is strong the econom
ic development of the country is great and all social relations
are clear and well defined. And where social relations are clear
there is no room for fantastic solutions of political questions;
that is why in the West only people who are hopeless from the
intellectual point of view are characterised by the anarchy of
thinking" which is often a feature even of the convinced and
thinking socialists in Russia. So if Mr. Tikhomirov writes bad
publicistic articles it is not he but the weakness of our bourgeoi
sie lhat is to blame. The reader w ill see that our authors favour
ite little key occasionally opens very complicated little caskets.
Although Mr. Tikhom irovs arguments have no originality
Hhoul them, they are amazing none the less for their hazardous"
character. Where did be get the conclusion that supreme power,
in Ihe idea of the people, is representation? So far we have had
the impression that the present idea of Ihe people of the supreme
power is explained by the fact that the people have 110 idea at
all about representation. The subjects of the Shah of Persia, the
Khedive of Egypt or the Emperor of China have absurd prejudices
about supreme power in their countries sim ilar lo those of I he
Russian peasants. Does it follow from this lhat the Persians,.
Egyptians and Chinese w ill pass with the same ease to Ihe idea
of the peuple souverain"? If so, the farther eastward we go the
closer we get to the trium ph of government by the people. Further,
why does Mr. Tikhomirov think that having become disappointed
in Ihe autocracy of the tsars our people cannot be anything but
supporters of their own autocracy? Did an erroneous conception
of Ihe substance of absolutism ever guarantee any individual or
whole people against erroneous conceptions of the substance of a
limited monarchy or a bourgeois republic? The m illions of the
people, Mr. Tikhomirov says, w ill rise like one man against the
class state if only that character becomes at all noticeable. R ut
the fact of the matter is precisely that the peoples awareness of
the shortcomings of the present is not enough to supply the cor
rect conception of the future. Was not the absolute monarchy a
class state in our country just as everywhere else? Even Mr. T i
khomirov admits in our history the existence of the n o bility
as the real ruling estate at least since the Ukase on Freedom.206
And did not the people give precisely the influence and even a
direct conspiracy of the nobles and officials as an explanation of
all our legislations decrees which were unfavourable to the people
and all the measures of tyranny and oppression taken by the adm in
istration? That being the case, the class character of our monar
chy was very noticeable. We think that the protest against the
288
G. P LEKHANOV
class state is conspicuous in the whole of our history. It is true

th a t m illions rose against it, although, unfortunately, far from
like one man as Mr. Tikhomirov prophesies in regard to the
future. But what came of those protests? D id they abolish the
class state or lead the people to the conviction that the exist
ing supreme power did not correspond to their political ide.als? If not, what guarantee have we against the continuation of
such a sad history under constitutional monarchy too? The peo
ples disappointment in the autocracy of the tsars? But what will
that save the people from? W hat w ill it prevent? For the weak
.side of the peoples political outlook consists, Mr. Tikhomirov
says, in the conclusions, not the premises. If we are to believe
our author, the Russian people know quite well what the supreme
power should be\ they demand that it be representative of the
whole people and get confused only in cases when they have to
determine whether a given form of state conforms lo their ideals.
After noticing one error they can fall into another no less unfortu
nate or gross. They may not know under what conditions their
own supreme rights w ill cease to be vain and hypocritical words,
a mask hiding the political dom ination of the upper classes.
Does Mr. Tikhomirov admit that the Russian people can really
not know those conditions? For our part, we shall have no hesi
tation in answering that question in the affirmative: not only is
it possible, it is even probable that they do not know. And if
they do not know, they w ill make mistakes; and if they rn ike
mistakes and inasmuch as they make mistakesthe ideals
Mr. Tikhom irov attributes to them w ill not be put into effect,
i.e., the people will not become self-governing. Mr. Tikhomirov
thinks that such political failures by the people are possible only
in the West , but are unthinkable in his beloved East, in coun
tries which the care of history has saved from the ulcer of capi
talism . It would be reasonable and consoling if the peoples polit
ical notions were not so closely connected w ith their economic
development. Unfortunately, there is not the slightest doubt
about that connection and the people are disappointed in the
"autocracy of the tsars only when the economic relations lose
their prim itive character and become more or less bourgeois;
b u t simultaneously w ith this the bourgeoisie begins to gain
strength, i.e.. the immediate transition to self-government of the
people becomes impossible. It is true that Mr. Tikhomirov con
soles us w ith considerations about Russias exceptional develop
ment. But firstly, no historical peculiarities of our country will
Tree it from the action of universal social laws, and secondly,
we already" know that the economic reality in present-day Russia
by no means corroborates the political paradoxes of the editor of
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli. The peoples disappointment in the auto-
OUK D IFFEREN CES
289
cracv of the tsars is only beginning lo appear probable, while tho

growing disintegration of the village commune and the penetra
tion of bourgeois principles into the peoples life is already an
indubitable and indisputable fact. W hat if such a parallel is
maintained in the future? By the time the people break complete
ly with tsarism the bourgeoisie may have become alm ighty.
Where shall we then get government by the people from?
We would draw Mr. T ikhom irovs attention to the fact that we
oppose self-government of the people to the supremacy of the
bourgeoisie only because he himself found it convenient lo do so.
In substance, however, we think that such opposition can have a
meaning only in exceptional cases. P olitical self-government of
tho people does not in any way guarantee them against economic
enslavement and does not preclude the possibility of capitalism
developing in the country. The canton of Zurich is one of the
most democratic and at the same time one of the most bourgeois
in Switzerland. A democratic constitution becomes an instrument
for the social emancipation of the people only when the natural
course of the development of economic relationships makes it
impossible for the upper classes to continue to dominate. Thus,
in the advanced countries production is becoming more* and more
collectivised, whereas the private appropriation of its products
hy employers gives rise to a whole series of morbid convulsions in
the entire social and economic organism. The people are begin
ning to understand the cause of these convulsions arid therefore
will in all probability sooner or later make use of political power
for their economic emancipation. But let us imagine another
phase in social development; let us picture to ourselves a country
in which large-scale industry is as yet only aspiring to supremacy
while commodity production has already become the basis of
the economy; in other words, let us transport ourselves into a pet
ty-bourgeois country. W hat economic tasks w ill face the selfgoverning people in that case? P rim arily, and exclusively, the
task of guaranteeing t ho interests of the small individual produc
ers. since that is the class which forms the m ajority of the people.
Rul following that path you cannot avoid cither capitalism or tho
domination of the big bourgeoisie, Tor the objective logic of com
modity production itself w ill take care to transform the small
individual producers into wage-labourers on the one side and
bourgeois employers on the other. When that transformation has
taken place, the working class w ill of course use all political
means in a deadly fight against the bourgeoisie. But then the
mutual relations of the classes in society w ill become sharply
defined, the working class will take the place of the people and
self-government of the people w ill change into the dictatorship
of the proletariat.
19-01329
290
G. P LEKHANOV
Hence it follows that the degree to which a particular people is

prepared for true and genuine democracy is determined by the
degree of its economic development. Sharply defined economic
relations determine no less sharply defined political groupings,
the antagonism between labour and capital gives rise to the strug
gle between the workers and the bourgeois parties. And the devel
opment of the productive forces brings this struggle closcr to ils
end and guarantees the victory of the proletariat. So it has been
and still is in all the Western countries.
But Messrs. the Slavophile revolutionaries are not pleased thol
it should be exactly so w ith Russia. Just as the Russian peasant
does not like written laws and strives to do everything as he wishes,
according to his taste , so the Russian intellectual is afraid of
historical laws and appeals to exceptionalism, to Ihe subjective
method in sociology and the like, i.e., in substance to the
same taste. Considered from tho standpoint of taste history
receives a very peculiar colouring. It appears as nothing but a
series of intrigues of the wicked against the good, the advent of
the kingdom of God upon earth being hindered only by the
strength of the wicked and the weakness of the good. Needless
to say, as a result of their corruption the wicked cannot establish
a firm and lasting alliance among themselves. They fight not only
against the good, but among themselves too, forming groups and
factions a nd wrenching the helm of government" from one another.
This internecine war in the camp of the wicked is, of course, all
to the profit of the good, for whom the tim e when one group of
the wicked is no longer strong enough to retain power, while the
others are not yet strong enough to seize it, is especially favour
able. Then happiness becomes possible and close, and only
slight efforts on the part of the good are needed to establish at
least government by the people. K ind and sensitive in substance.
Russian socialism as expressed" in the articles of P. N. Tka
chov and Mr. Tikhom irov likes to flatter itself w ith the hope lhat
at the time we are passing through Russia is precisely in
this period of interregnum of the wicked and the vicious, of the
exhaustion of absolutism and the powerlessness of the bour
geoisie.
We went to no sm all pains in the foregoing pages to destroy
this naively optim istic aspect of the Russian revolutionary out
look. Rut as Air. Tikhomirov w ill all the same be inclined to
agree w ith his teacher P. N. Tkachov more than with us. hi?
political opponents, we oppose to the authority of the editor of
Xnhat lhat of a colleague of our author on Ihe editorial board of
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli. Mr. Lavrov w ill probably not refuse to
stand by the thoughts expressed in the leading article of Vperyod
No. 27. The author of this splendid article m aintains that "in
OUR D IFFEREN CES
291
Russia (he capitalist system is growing luxuriantly and rapidly

with all its consequences ; that this is not denied by the cham
pions of the present system any more than by its opponents,
and finally that the socialists see in these phenomena but a fatal
process for which there is only one cure: the development of the
capitalist system itself must give rise to and prepare for the upheav
al that w ill sweep that system away . Mr. Lavrov is completely
justified in asking Mr. Tikhom irov where Russian capitalism
and the Russian bourgeoisie, which certainly existed during the
time of the London Fortnightly Review, have disappeared. And if
he manages (o convince his colleague (hat capi(alism is not a
needle and that it could not have got lost in the bustle of Russian
life, Mr. Tikhomirov himself w ill see from which side danger
threatens Russian government by the people , which was sup
posed to succeed directly tsarist autocracy. Where the capitalist
system develops luxuriantly and rapidl}' w ith all its consequences
the bourgeoisie can always be strong enough to prevent as
was the case in France, according (o Mr. Tikhom irov the actual
establishment of the dom ination of the self-governing people.
If the author of the article we quoted from No. 27 of Vperyod was
right when he spoke of the rapid development of capitalism in
Russia, Mr. Tikhomirov is wrong when he supposes that pre
cisely the present-day economic relations are highly favourable for
laying the foundation of the socialist organisation in our coun
try. In (his case, too, his arguments are nothing but slight varia
tions on themes of Tkachov and Bakunin.
P. N. Tkachov, we know, wrote to Engels: Our people are igno
rantthat is a fact.... But on the other] hand, the immense ma
jority of them are imbued w ith (he principles of communal land
tenure; they are, if we may put it that way, communist by in
stinct, by tradition!
Faithfully echoing Tkachov, Mr. Tikhomirov assures us that
"(here are enough factors in the peoples concepts and usages for
(he successful organisation of their forces. The peasant is capable
of arranging his self-government, he is capable of taking commu
nal possession of the land and disposing of it in a social manner .*
From (he fact lha( communal land (enure exists in Russia Iho
editor of N abat concludes that despite their ignorance our people
are far nearer to socialism than the peoples of the West. The edi
tor of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli could not bring himself to follow his
teacher to such extreme conclusions, but he naturally did not fa il
to remind his readers (hat our peasants are jnst as clearly con
scious of the peoples right to the land and of the social character
of this instrument of labour as the European proletarian is con* Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, p. 255.
19*
292
G. P LEK HA N O V
scious of his right to the factory of the proprietor. W ith his poor
knowledge of the historical philosophy of modern socialism
Mr. Tikhomirov cannot for the life of him understand the simple
tru th that the European proletarians consciousness of his right
to the factory of the proprietor is not the only important thing
for the socialist revolution. There was a time when the Roman
proletarians also had a fairly clear consciousness of their right
to the latifundia of the rich, the origin of which was lhe seizure
of state lands and the expropriation of the sm all landowners; but
even had they been able to put their right into effect, it would by
no means have resulted in socialism. The socialist revolution is
prepared and made easier not by this or that mode of ownership,
but by lhe development of the productive forces and the organisa
tion of production. It is precisely in giving this organisat ion social
character that the historical preparatory significance of capitalism
consists, a significance which Mr. Tikhom irov reduces, in the
words of Mr. V. V ., to the mechanical union of the workers.
Neither P. N. Tkachov, nor Mr. V. V. nor Mr. Tikhomirov, anti
finally none of the Narodniks or Bakuninists have pul themselves
out to prove lo us that the Russian people just as clearly under
stands the necessity for the social organisation of production as the
European proletarian . And yet that is the whole point. Mr. Tikh
omirov should remember once and for all that it is not the organ
isation of production that is determined by juridical standards
but juridical standards by the organisation of production. This
is vouched for by the whole social history of all peoples, not exclud
ing lhe least civilised and most except ionalisl. If that is so, anti
if there is no room for capitalism in Russia, Ihen, when we com
pare Russia with the West, we must proceed not from the effect,
but from the cause, not from the dom inant type of land tenure, but
from the dom inant character of land cultivation, its organisation
and tho impending changes in it, for it is on these changes that
the fate of the forms of land tenure themselves depends. Let
Mr. Tikhomirov try and prove to us lh a l the same tendency now
predominates in our agriculture as in the modern mechanised
industry of the capitalist countries, i.e., lhe tendency lo planned
organisation w ithin the lim its of the state at least. If he succeeds
in doing so, the economic aspect of what he expects from the revo
lution will acquire quite considerable importance. In the opposite
event all his economic and political considerations and contrasts
boil down to the worn-out method of solving all our social prob
lems, so to speak, by excluding the bourgeoisie; as for lhe founda
tion of the socialist organisation of Russia , it loses all connec
tion with the not very distant time of the catastrophe" await
ing us and is again postponed to a more or less hazy
future
OUR DI FFEREN CES
293
Have we said enough? If not we shall again resort to the assis

tance of our dear P. L. Lavrov. For the overwhelming m ajority
of the Russian people, says lhat excellent article in No. 27 of
Vperyod, the inherited feeling of solidarity of the village commune
or the artel in its different forms is confined to the narrowest lim
its, beyond which begins the field of rivalry and struggle for
existence between starving groups hemmed in on all sides. In
this m ajority the ancient 1 rad it ion that the land belongs lo him
who cultivates it, the ancient hatred for immediate exploiters
of the peoples labour ... could not grow into awareness of the
necessity for economic communism; this m ajority cannot be clear
as to the enormous difference there would be in future sociely if
in a successful popular outbreak the econom ic upheaval were
limited to a redistribution of property (he should have said of the
means of production), and not the unconditional recognition of
its social character. The author of these words correctly supposes
that a redistribution of property, instead of its social character,
would inevitably lead to the elaboration of a new division of tho
classes, to a new system of exploitation, and consequently to the
restoration of bourgeois society in a new form. Indeed, the
right of all the people to the land" is by no means a condition
for the social character of the movable means of production, and,
therefore, admits of inequality in their distribution and oT the
exploitation of the poor by the rich. Precisely the disintegrating
influence of movable private property led to the decay of the
primitive forms of collectivism.
What w ill the former editor of Vperyod say to that? W ill ho
continue to admit the correctness of the argument just advanced,
or has he accomplished such a considerable evolution in his
socio-political convictions that he now shares the views of
P. N. Tkachov and Mr. Tikhom irov, which are incom patible
with lhat argument?
A straightforward and categorical answer to Ibis question would
be of very considerable importance. Indeed, if the people's aware
ness of their righl lo the land cannot be a sufficiently iirm
basis on which to lay the foundation of the socialist organisation
of Russia , all Mr. T ikhom irovs practical conclusions lose their
entire meaning and significance. If the people are not clearly
aware of the most essential conditions for Iheir economic eman
cipation, that em ancipation itself is unthinkable and conse
quently the seizure of power by the revolutionaries cannot provido
the starting-point for the anti-bourgeois revolution which Mr.
Tikhomirov expects. W hich means that we must speak not of what
we can expect from tho revolution but of what we must do for it,
how' we must make the people clearly understand the tasks of
the revolution; how we must prevent the victory of the hour-
294
G. PLEK H A N O V
geoisie or turn it to the advantage of the people, how we must

make sure that the development of the capitalist system itself
w ill give rise to and prepare for the upheaval that will swoop
away that system.
A certain section of the socialists advised our revolutionary
youth to engage in propaganda among the industrial workers.
Mr. Tikhomirov availed himself of all the mistakes and all the
ignorance of our police statisticians to prove that this advice
was not practicable. In his opinion the numbers of the working
class in our industrial centres are too small for any social-revolu
tionary hopes to be founded on that section of our wrorking popu
lation. From what he says about this it could be concluded that
our author holds the old Narodnik view which ignores the town
and exalts the country. But such a guess would be only partly
correct. Mr. Tikhomirov does indeed exalt the country but any
attentive reader w ill immediately understand that the country
cannot be better off for such praise. Indeed, there are various
kinds of idealisation and they entail different practical conclu
sions. The Narodniks of the recent past idealised the people partly
in order to incite themselves and all our intelligentsia to revolu
tionary work among them. Intensify this idealisation one degree
more and you w ill come to the conviction that thanks to their
communal tendencies our people need not be influenced by the
socialist intelligentsia. In that case the role of the latter becomes
purely destructive. It is reduced to the removal of the exterior
obstacles which hinder the realisation of the peoples ideals.
That is the kind of idealisation of the people we find in Mr. Tikh
om irovs article. At a revolutionary moment our people will
not be split when the basic principle of state power is in question,
our author decides. In just the same way they w ill prove to be
completely united economically on the land question__ In order
to gather the masses as a great force around these two points
no special propaganda is needed', all that is needed is that the
people know what the matter is about. Reduced to its extreme
expression, the idealisation of the people deprives the Narodniks
work of all meaning and import. B ut, on the other hand, the
significance of the conspiracy becomes all the greater. The social
revolution, the conspirator argues, is delayed because of the influ
ence of the present-day government. Do away w ith its influence
and the necessary result of your destructive work must be the
foundation of the socialist organisation of Russia. In the politi
cal struggle the power belongs to him who is able at any moment
to deploy the greatest quantity of hum an forces in defence of
his own cause. There is no need to inquire which class those
forces proceed from. They can be obtained at ones disposal by
various means. One can even buy ones fighters or drive them
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
295
out to defend one by means of economic pressure.* A ll the more

can they be recruited from any classes of society. Success depends
only upon skill in directing tho forces obtained in accordance
with the aims of the conspirators. That is why Mr. Tikhomirov
sometimes speaks of the seizure of power by the revolutionaries
as the starting-point of the revolution. This conclusion follows
logically from all of our authors premises.
The whole trouble is that Mr. Tikhom irovs premises cannot
stand criticism, lhat not. all is well w ith the people even as far
as the two main points are concerned, and that there are also
other points ignorance of which can bring the revolutionaries
nothing but grave disappointment. And w ith the premises, the
cnnrlusions so dear to Mr. Tikhomirov but so unfavourable for
the success of the socialist movement in Russia, naturally fall
away. The sentimental haze of false and affected idealisation of
the people disappears and reality looms before us w ith its urgent
demands. We see that there is no hope of a successful outcome of
the Russian revolutionary movement, without special propagan
da among the people. We come to the conclusion that our revolu
tionaries cannot be content w ith Tkachovs programme and that
they would do well to romember Vperyod's programme. But we
have still not come to any decision as to the extent to which
their break with the traditions of our Blanquism is desirable.
In this very difficult case it would be interesting to know for
certain the authoritative opinion of Mr. Lavrov.*
~
2. SEIZURE OF PO W ER
Incidentally, we can partly guess what, his opinion w ill be.

The honourable editor probably does not approve of the circum
stance that Mr. Tikhomirov sometimes speaks of the seizure of
power by the revolutionaries as the starting-point of the revolu
tion. P. N. Tkachov was also accustomed to speak sometimes
of such a seizure of power and thus courted severe censure from
Mr. Lavrov. Tho editor of Vperyod even thought it necessary to
warn our revolutionary youth against an alliance w ith false
friends. There are revolutionary groups. he wrote, who say
that they wish the good of the people, that they intend to achieve
that good by a revolution, but not a popular one. For such groups
all the philosophy of the revolution is naturally lim ited to seizing
power. "Others wish tho dictatorship to be only tem porary, merely
in order to disband the army, to remove the uppermost section of
their opponents and disappear from the stage, leaving the people
* Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, W hat Can We Expect from the Revolu
tion?, p. 250.
296
G. PLEK H A N O V
to decide their own future. Others again dream of handing over

this dictatorship, when they have accomplished their business,
to a Zemsky Sobor consisting of representatives of the people
or to local assemblies, and so on and so forth. W hat is common to
all revolutionaries of this kind is a revolution carried out by a
m inority, w ith a more or less lasting dictatorship of that minor
ity . In his capacity as editor Mr. Lavrov stated that his journal
would never consider it possible to allow the theory of the revo
lutionary dictatorship of a m ino rity the so-called Jacobin dicta
torship being void'd in it wi thout objecting". The theory mentioned
was ostracised for the following fairly valid reasons.
History has shown, and psychology convinces us, that any
unlim ited power, any dictatorship, spoils even the best people
and that even men of genius who wished to confer blessings on
the people by means of decrees could not do so. Every dictatorship
must surround itself with coercive force, b lin d ly obedient tools;
every dictatorship has had to suppress by force not only reaction
aries, but also people who simply did not agree w ith its methods;
every dictatorship seized by force has had to spend more time,
efforts and energy fighting its rivals for power than carrying out
its programme by means of that power. B ut dreams oj the termina
tion of a dictatorship seized violently by any party (i.e., a dicta
torship serving only as the starting-point, of the revolution" , you
mean, do you not, dear Editor?) ucan be entertained only before the
seizure', in the parties slruggle for power, in the agitation of overt
and covert intrigues, every m inute brings new necessity for main
taining power and reveals new im possibility of abandoning it.
The dictatorship can be wrenched from the hands of the dictators
only by a new revolution. ... Does our revolutionary youth in
deed agree to be the base of the throne of a few dictators who, even
with most selfless intentions, can be only new sources of social calam
ities, and who, most probably, w ill not even be selfless fanatics,
but men of passionate am bition thirsting for power for power's
sake, craving for power for themselves?...
If, indeed, a section of our youth favour a dictatorship, the
seizure of power by a m inority, the honourable editor continues.
Vperyod w ill never be the organ of that section ... let tho Rus
sian Jacobins fight the government, we w ill not hinder them, but
the party of the popular social revolution w ill always heroine
their enemy, directly one of them reaches out for power, which
belongs to the people and nobody else.*
P L. Lavrovs prophecy was fulfilled to the letter. The journal
Vperyod was never tho organ of the Russian Jacobins. It is true
* Russian Social-Revolutionary
London, 1874, pp. 40-43.
Youth,
by
the editor of Vperyod,
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
297
thal 1*. L. Lavrov himself became editor of the organ of that

section of youth. But that is a different m ailer with which we
are not concerned here.
Our interest at present is in the following considerations. The
author of Historical Letters has nowhere slated that he has changed
his views on the seizure of power; hence we can say w ith assur
ance that one of the editors of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli has an
extremely negative attitude to such a seizure. We are glad of that
assurance, it is pleasant to agree in opinion with a well-known
anil respected writer and we can say tliut wo completely share
his opinion on the seizure of power, although we arrived al our
conviction by a somewhat different path. We have, always tried
to direct our main attention not to the subjective, but Ihe objective
side of the m ailer, not lo the thoughts and feelings of individual
personalitieseven if they had the title of dictator bul to the
social conditions which they have lo take account of, to the inner
meaning of the social problems which Ihey undertake to solve.
We speak against the seizure of power not because any dicta
torship spoils even the best people , for lhat question has hardly
been finally settled by history and psychology". B u l we think
thal if the emancipation of the workers must be conquered by the
workers themselves, I here is nothing any dictatorship can do
when the working class in town and country has not been pre
pared for the socialist revolution. And that preparation generally
proceeds parallel lo the development of the productive forces and
of Ihe organisation of production corresponding to them. That is
why we posed Ihe question to what extent contemporary economic
relations in Russia justify the programme of I hose who aim at
seizing power and who promise lo work, by means of that power,
a whole series of social and political miracles. Have these people
any greater physical possibility to fulfil their promises than a
tomtit has to set the sea on fire? 207 The answer we arrived at was
negative. In the pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle
we explained in detail why we considered such an answer the
only possible one at present. W ithout directly analysing our
arguments, Mr. Tikhomirov also touched on this question in the
article we are analysing, and in doing so he flung at a certain
section of the socialists" a number of expressions used by us.
Rul, as usual, our authors line of argument is nol very convinc
ing; he does not even always aim at being convincing. Sometimes
he almost stops proving altogether and simply state's, decrees, so
to speak, some propositions or others, as though he had already
"seized power" over the minds of his readers. Thus, shouting to
those who consider the seizure of power by the present revolution
ary parly as physically impossible and accusing them of confus
ing concepts he opposes lheir arguments w ith Ihe following ...
298
G. PLEK H A N O V
statement: It cannot he doubted that the question of the seizure

of power by any revolutionary force is determined first and fore
most by whether the existing government is sufficiently disorgan
ised. shaken and unpopular; and if a ll these conditions are to
hand a state upheaval is by no means impossible or even particu
larly difficult. * W itho ut dwelling any more on this interesting
question, he immediately goes on to discuss our revolutionaries'
chances of holding power. W illy- nilly, all dissenters will have
to be reconciled to the author's not quite customary laconicism.
Let us be reconciled to it loo, all the more as the truth of some
of his propositions really cannot be doubted this time. Rut
even so it w ill be quite apposite to ask: W ho is confusing con
cepts"Mr. Tikhomirov or his opponents? Firstly, a state up
heaval is far from being the same thing as the seizure of power
by any revolutionary force. Where the existing government is
disorganised, shaken and unpopular a state upheaval is not only
4by no means impossible , it is sim ply almost inevitable and
consequently it is naturally not particularly difficult. Rut that
still does not mean that any revolutionary force can take the
place of the overthrown government and seize the power lost by
that government. A state upheaval can be effected by the aggre
gate actions of many forces" which, though hostile to one an
other, are nevertheless revolutionary in their attitude to the exist
ing system. Then power , too, w ill go not to one of those forces,
hut to the resultant of them all, which w ill be embodied in
a new provisional or permanent government. But for each of them
singly the question of the seizure of power far from being solved
will bo still more complicated by such an outcome; they w ill have
to fight for power not against a weak and unpopular adversary,
but against fresh, hale and hearty rivals who have not yet been
exhausted by struggle and have the support of a certain section
of tho nation. A ll that is as clear as daylight. And if that is the
case, can we make the question of the seizure of power by the
HNarodnaya Volya party in which we are interested depend
exclusively on the instability of the existing government and on
the probability of a state upheaval? Can one thus confuse concepts
which differ entirely in meaning and content?
But, we may be told, you impute to the state upheaval quite
a different meaning from the one in which Mr. Tikhomirov uses
it. By it he understands not only the fall of the existing govern
ment and the organisation of a new one; he presumes that tho
whole of this revolution w ill take place by a successful conspir
acy w ithin a certain definite revolutionary party which has his
sympathy. A conspiracy is a secret undertaking which begins
* Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, p. 255.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
299
without the knowledge of any of those who could enter into rivalry
with the conspirators after the state upheaval. When Little Napo
leon thought out his coup d etat , it did not occur to him to re
veal his intentions to the Orleanists or the Legitimisls; still less
would he have brought himself to ask for their help and collabo
ration. The success which the Honapartists achieved by lheir own
efforts alone remained wholly and entirely theirs; all that was
left for their rivals was to bear malice and to be sorry that they
had not thought of or undertaken that daring action. W hat the
infamous nephew did sincere revolutionaries can do too. Or is
success a privilege of evil? W ill an instrument which has proved
its worth in the hands of political adventurers refuse to serve
people sincerely devoted to the good of their country?
If Mr. Tikhomirov does understand a state upheaval in this
last sense, he is resorting to a still grosser confusion of concepts
than we formerly thought. What right has he so unexpectedly and
unscrupulously to replace a general, abstract possibility by a
particular, concrete actuality? Does not that which is possible
in a general sense prove in many and many an instance to be im
possible as regards some particular case? And, therefore, is it
permissible, when recommending to the Russian revolutionary
party the path of conspiracy, to confine oneself to general phrases
about it nol being particularly difficult lo organise a successful
conspiracy where the government is disorganised and unpopular?
Are the Russian revolutionaries conspirators in the abstract,
without flesh or bones, not coming w ithin the pale of all the condi
tions which make what is possible for some fantastic and impossible
for others? Are not the chances of success for a conspiracy deter
mined by tho qualities of thal section of society to which its
members belong, and do not the qualities of that section influence
the desires and aims of the conspirators? One has only to cast a
glance at our revolutionary section from this point of view7 for
general phrases about a successful conspiracy not being particu
larly difficult to lose all meaning.
To what class, to what strata of society have the overwhelming
majority of our revolutionaries belonged so far and do they still
belong? To what is called the thin k ing proletariat. We already
spoke in detail of the political qualities of this strata in Socialism
and the Political Struggle and we greatly regret that Mr. T ikhom i
rov did not consider it necessary to refute our ideas. Our thinking
proletariat, we wrote, has already done much for Ihe emancipa
tion of its motherland. It has shaken absolutism, aroused political
interest among society, sown the seed of socialist propaganda
among our working class. It is intermediary between the higher
classes of society and the lower, having the education of the for
mer and the democratic instincts of the latter. This position has
300
G. PLEK H A N O V
eased for it the diversified work of propaganda and agitation.

But this same position gives it very little hope of success in a
conspiracy to seize power. For such a conspiracy talent, energy
and education are not enough: the conspirators need connections,
wealth and an influential position in society. And that is what
our revolutionary intelligentsia lacks. It can make good these
deficiencies only by allying itself w ith other dissatisfied elements
of Russian society. Let us suppose that its plans actually meet
w ith the sympathy of those elements, that rich landowners, offi
cials, staff and senior oflicers join in the conspiracy. There will
then be more probability of the conspiracy being a success, al
though that probability w ill still be very sm alljust remember
the outcome of most of the famous conspiracies in history. But
the main danger to the socialist conspiracy w ill come not from
tho existing government, but from the members of the conspiracy
itself. The influential and high-placed personages who have joined
it may be sincere socialists only by a fortunate coincidence'.
But as regards the m ajority of them, there can be no guarantee
that they w ill not wish to use the power they have seized for pur
poses having nothing in common w ith the interests of the working
class__ Thus, the more sympathy a conspiracy of the socialist
intelligentsia to seize power in the immediate future meets among
influential spheres, i.e., the greater the probability of its outward
success, the more open to doubt its results w ill be\ contrariwise, the
more such a conspiracy is confined to our socialist intelligentsia,
i.e., the less the probability of its success, the less doubt there
w ill be about its results, as far as lhe conspirators intentions are
concerned. 2118 Is that comprehensible? Were we right when we
said that our n ihilist renegade, though very useful as a revolution
ary ferment in the social sphere, w ill not seize power because
he w ill be prevented from doing so by his social position? Bona
parte was not a n ih ilist, but for his coup d etat he, too, needed at
first to become no more and no less than the head of the executive
authority in the republic. Further. Is it probable that if the nihil
ist does draw over to his side a sufficient number of persons
having influence and a high position, and if he is followed by all
sorts of white generals , he w ill not profit by their social posi
tion but they w ill avail themselves of his self-abnegation and
transform the conspiracy into an instrument for their personal
aims? Perhaps we w ill be told that a high situation in society
does not always irremediably spoil man and that a heart full of
devotion to its people can beat even under a generals uniform.
We perfectly concede that, hut still continue to fear the Greeks.209
W hat guarantees w ill the revolutionaries have of the loyalty
and sincerity of high-placed members of the conspiracy? The cen
tral committees personal knowledge of those gentlemen? But how
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
301
will the committee assure us of the in fa llib ility of its choice? Can
one be satisfied with .swell guarantees in a matter as im portant as
the fate of Ihe working class of a whole country? It is here that
Ihe difference between the standpoints of the Social-Democrats
on one side and of Ihe Blanquists on the other is revealed. The
former demand objective guarantees of success for their cause,
Kuaranlees which they see in the development of consciousness,
iniliative and organisation in the working class; the latter are
satisfied with guarantees of a purely subjective nature; they aban
don the cause of Ihe working class to individuals and committees,
they make Ihe trium ph of the ideas they hold dear depend on
faith in the personal qualities of some or other members of the
conspiracy. If the conspirators are honest, brave and experienced,
socialism will triumph; if they are not resolute or capable
enough, the victory of socialism will be postponed, perhaps for a
short time if new and more capable conspirators are found, but
for an infinitely long time if there are no such conspirators. All is
here reduced to hazard, to the intelligence, a b ility and w ill of
individuals.*
Let it not be said lhat Ihe Russian Blanquists of today do not
deny the importance of preparatory work among the working
class. No doubt whatsoever is possible on this score after
Kalendnr Narodnoi Voli has declared that Ihe working popula
tion in the towns is of particularly great importance for the revo
lution (p. 130). But is there even a single party in the world
*
Incidentally, this is not quite the case. Objective conditions of success
appear sometimes to the conspirators as some kind of physical or meteoro
logical happening. For instance, one of the issues of Nabat contains an article
on the conspiracy of General Malet. From this article we see that in 1812
tho revolution did not take place in Franco merely because of sudden,
inopportune, heavy rains on the night of October 22-23. You find that hard
lo believe, reader? Head the following excerpt and judge for yourself.
When everything was finished, Malet intended to burry to the nearest
barracks, but rain poured down and the conspirators took it into their
heads to wait till il was over. They bad to wait till 3 a.m. and that was a
fatal mistake. During the night the conspiracy had all chances of succeeding,
for the civil and military authorities would not have had time to confer.
The conspirators let the favourable time slip and as a result of this and
this alone, the conspiracy itself was a failure.
Whatever be Ihe attitude to such explanations of the historical destiny
of peoples, it is obvious at any rate that they do not avail us of making any
sound forecast of social phenomena; in other words, they preclude any attempt
to discuss programme questions seriously.
Tikhomirov's foundation of the socialist organisation of Russia, with
which we are already familiar, will also apparently be cancelled in case of
bad weather. In general heavy rain is all Ihe more dangerous for the victory
of socialism the more the cause of the latter is made to depend on the success
of this or that committee in disregard of the degree of social and political
development of the working class in Ihe country in question.
302
G. PLEKHANOV
which does not acknowledge that the working class can greatly
help it to achieve its aims? The present-day policy of the Iron
Chancellor clearly shows that even the Prussian junkers do not
lack such awareness. Now all appeal to the workers, but they do
not all speak to them in the same tone; they do not all allot them
the same role in their political programmes. This difference is
noticeable even among the socialists. For the democrat Jacobi the
foundation of one workers' union was of more importance social
ly and historically than the Battle of Sadowa . 210 The Blanquist
w ill of course perfectly agree w ith that opinion. But he w ill agree
only because it is not battles but revolutionary conspiracies that
he sees as the main motive forces of progress. If you were to sug
gest that he choose between a workers union and a repentant
nobleman 211 in the person of some divisional general, he would
prefer the latter to the former almost without thinking. And that
is understandable. No matter how important the workers are
for the revolution , high-placed conspirators are still more
im portant, for not a step can be made w ithout them and the whole
outcome of the conspiracy can often depend on the conduct of
some Excellency.* From the standpoint of the Social-Democrat
a true revolutionary movement at tho present time is possible
only among the working class; from the standpoint of the Blanquist the revolution relies only partly upon the workers, who
have an im portant but not tho m ain significance in it. The for
mer assumes lhat the revolution is of particular importance for
the workers, while in the opinion of the latter the workers, as we
know, are of particular importance for the revolution. The SocialDemocrat wants the worker himself to make his revolution; the
B lanquist demands that the worker should support the revolution
which has been begun and led for him and in his name by others,
for instance by officers if wo imagine something in the nature of
the Decembrists conspiracy. Accordingly the character of the
a ctiv ity and the distribution of forces also vary. Some appeal
m ainly to the workers, others deal w ith them only incidentally
and when they are not prevented from doing so by numerous
complicated and unpredictable ever-growing needs of lhe conspir
acy which has begun without the workers. This difference is nf
immense practical importance and it is precisely what explains
the hostile attitude of the Social-Democrats to the conspiratorial
fantasies of the Blanquists.
*
The report of General Molet's conspiracy in Nabat explains in detail
the importance for the revolution" of the commanders of units or even of
mere officers. In order to carry out the plan he had thought out, Malel
needed to enlist the assistance of at least two officers who were capable, clever,
and inspired, like him , with hatred of the emperor, etc.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
303
3. PROBABLE CONSEQUENCES OF A POPULAR REVOLUTION
But let us be tractable. Let us concede the improbable that

"power is actually in the hands of our contemporary revolution
aries. W hat w ill such success lead them to?
Let us listen to our author. The immediate and prime task of
the victorious provisional government consists in coming to the
assistance of the popular revolution. The state power which has
been seized must be used in order everywhere to revolutionise the
popular masses and to organise their power; this is a task in the
fulfilment of which the revolutionaries stand on firm ground.
There the provisional government does not create anything but
only frees the forces which exist in lhe people and are even in a
state of very high tension.... In this the provisional government
does not need either to use coercion on the popular masses or
even to teach them. It only gives them purely external help.*
That is what Mr. Tikhomirov says when he discusses the role of
the provisional government which is forced to seize power.
He is convinced that this purely external" help for the people
will lead to the foundation of the socialist organisation of Rus
sia. If we recall his ancestry we w ill see that such an assurance
is by no means surprising on his part and that it was handed down
to him by the laws of heredity. Bakxinin begot Tkachov, and
Tkachov begot Tikhomirov and his brothers. And if the nearest
literary forbears of our author were of the conviction lhat the
people is always ready for the social revolution, it is quite natu
ral that their descendant should believe in such readiness of the
people at least at the time we are passing through. We
must be surprised not at Mr. Tikhom irov, who, ashamed to ac
knowledge his extraction openly, nevertheless piously keeps the
traditions of his spiritual fathers. It is those readers we must be
surprised at, who, having renounced the theories of Bakunin and
Tkachov, imagine that Mr. Tikhom irov is presenting them w ilh
something newer, more serious and practicable. For such readers
criticism is but an empty word and consistency an absolutely
empty concept!
People. who have really and irrevocably broken w ith the fanta
sies of Rukunin and Tkachov, w ill see Mr. T ikhom irovs confidence
as absolutely unjustified. They w ill understand lhat the social
ist revolution presupposes a whole series of measures for the
socialist organisation of production. And that reason alone is
enough to prevent the purely external help of the revolutionary
government from being considered sufficient to guarantee a suc
cessful oulcome of such a revolution. Besides, lhe socialist organ
isation of production presupposes two conditions without the
* Vestnik Narodnoi Volt No. 2, pp. 255-56.
304
G. PLEK HAN OV
presence of which it cannot ho undertaken. The first of these

conditions is objective and lies in the economic relations in the
country. The other is purely subjective and concerns the produc
ers themselves: the objective economic possibility of the transi
tion to socialism is not enough by itself, the working class must
understand and be aware of that possibility. These two conditions
are closely connected w ith one another. Economic relations influ
ence peoples economic concepts. These concepts influence peoples
mode of activity, the social and, consequently, the economic rela
tions. And since we now do not believe in any hand of God or
in inborn ideas, it only remains for us lo assume that the order
of ideas is determined by the order of things and that people's
views of economic circumstances are determined by the qualities
of those circumstances. These qualities also determine the tenden
cies of Ihe various classes conservative in one period of history,
revolutionary in another. A certain class rises against the reality
surrounding it, enters into antagonism with it only in Ihe event
of reality being divided against itself, of some contradictions
being revealed in il. The character, the course and the outcome
of the struggle which has started against that reality is deter
mined by the character of these contradictions. In the capitalist
countries, one of the chief economic contradictions is the antago
nism between Ihe social character of production, on the one hand,
and tho in div id u al appropriation by tho employers of its instru
ments, means, and consequently its products, on the other. As it
is absolutely impossible to renounce the social organisation of
production, the only means of solving this contradiction is to
bring juridical standards into conformity with economic facts,
to hand over the instruments and objects of labour to the owner
ship of society, for the latter to distribute the products according
lo the requirements of the working people. This contradiction,
as also Ihe urgent need for its solution, increasingly impresses
i I self upon the consciousness of the people who suffer from it.
The working class becomes more and more inclined to and ready
for tho socialist revolution. We have already repeated time and
again the truth proved by Marx that the antagonism referred to
above inevitably arises at a definite stage in the development of
commodity production. But commodity production, like every
thing else in the world, has nol only an end, but a beginning, too.
It not only prepares for a new social system thanks to its inherent
contradictions, but there was a time when it was new itself, it
arose out of antagonisms in its predecessor. We know (hat com
m odity production was preceded by natural economy and primi
tive collectivism. The principal cause leading lo antagonism in
the prim itive communities was their inherent lim itatio n which
did not permit the application of communist principle to the rela
OUR D IFFE R E N C E S
305
tions between communities. These relations led to the develop

ment of exchange, the products of social labour became commodi
ties and in this new quality they exerted a disintegrating influence
on the interior organisation of the community itself. The stage
in the disintegration of prim itive collectivism which is known as
the village commune is characterised, as we know, by the contra
diction that in it corn-growing on communal land is carried out by
individual householders. This leads to the development of private
property, to a new intensification of commodity production and
at the same time to the birth of the contradictions inherent in
this kind of production, i.e., to the exploitation of labour by
capital. Thus commodity production nears its end because of
the contradiction between the social organisation of production
and the individual mode of appropriation. It develops, on the
contrary, because of the contradiction between the in div id u al
character of the economy and the social character of the appro
priation of oue of the chief means of productionthe land. We
now ask Mr. Tikhomirov: which stage in the development of
commodity production is Russia now passing through? W hich of
the contradictions we have pointed out is typical of her economic
relations now? If the first, then there is no sense in contrasting
Russia with the West, and, therefore, in emphasising the peculiar
features of the Russian social-revolutionary programmes. If the
second, by what means w ill the revolutionary government pre
vent commodity production from developing further? Ry what
means will it solve the contradictions inherent in our village
commune?
The seizure of power by the revolutionaries may have two out
comes.
Either the provisional government w ill in fact confine itself to
purely external help to the people and, not leaching them any
thing, not coercing them to anything, w ill allow them to sot up
their own economic relations.
Or, not relying on the wisdom of the people, it will keep in its
hands the power it has seized and itself set about organising
socialist production.
In tho pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle, we have
already spoken of each of these outcomes. A ll we need to do now
is to repeat and elaborate the thoughts we expressed then.
Mr. Tikhomirov has freed us from the necessity or discussing
in detail the second of the cases assumed. He does not even wish
to hear of the despotism of a communist government . He de
mands that the provisional government should give the people
purely external help", that it should organise the people tem
porarily and only inasmuch as their (the peoples) self-govern
ment can be realised in those conditions. Obscure as this last
20-01329
306
G. PLEK H A N O V
phrase is, if it has any sense it means a resolute renunciation of

any attem pt to im plant socialism by means of decrees of the
secret society which has seized power. F inally , our author de
clares outright that the provisional government must use power, of
course, not to create a socialist system. T hat, of course, is an
other big piece of nonsense, for it is ridiculousfor a socialist govern
m enteven if only a provisional one not to use its power to
create a socialist system. However that may be, it is obvious
that Mr. Tikhom irov is seriously convinced that the provisional
government w ill not need to create anything but only to free
the forces which already exist in the people. Let us see what
such freeing can lead to.
Our author did not explain how long this period w ill last dur
ing which the provisional government w ill organise the power
of the popular masses. Neither did he tell us what this organisa
tion means when translated from his partys mystic way of
speaking into literary Russian. He did not say a word about the
way in which, after seizing power, the Narodnaya Volya party"
government w ill be replaced by a government elected by the
people, controlled by them and replaceable. Hence it remains
for us to choose the most probable of all possible guesses. The
Eastern countries have distinguished themselves so far only by
court revolutions or popular movements in which there were very
few conscious political actions. To have any at all graphical idea
of the probable course of the Russian revolution, we must willyn illy presume that, despite all its exceptionalism, it w ill never
theless take place at least partly after the manner of the West.
But in the West it generally developed as follows. The provisional
government placed in power by the coup d etat continued to sup
port the revolution against the efforts of reaction, convened a
constituent assembly and placed the countrys future in its hands.
Having drawn up the new constitution, the constituent assembly
set up a permanent government conforming to the most compelling
demands of the whole country or certain of the classes. It goes
w ithout saying that the new government was permanent only until
there was a new revolution or a new reshaping of the countrys
constitutional structure.
Let us now imagine that after seizing power the Narodnaya
Volya party w ill remain faithful to Mr. Tikhom irovs promises
and, not coercing the Russian people to anything, will convene
a constituent assembly of representatives of the people. Let us
assume that the elections w ill take place in the most favourable
conditions for the revolutionaries, and only after providing the
guarantee of the peoples economic independence , i.e., after the
expropriation of the big landowners and employers. Let us even
assume that the provisional government w ill institute electoral
O U R D IFFER EN C ES
307
qualifications according to estate and class and grant political

franchise only to peasants, artisans and proletarians working by
hand or brain. F inally, let us suppose that the provisional govern
ment w ill manage to m aintain, and the constituent assembly to
consolidate, the peoples political independence. This w ill be
all the more difficult the sooner the revolutionary situation fore
told by Mr. Tikhom irov arises; from Mr. Tikhomirov, too, we
learn that even with a powerless bourgeoisie self-government by
the people is possible only if the people are sufficiently disap
pointed in the autocracy of the tsars. Hence it follows that if by
the time of the revolutionary outbreak this disappointment is
not intense enough, there w ill not be any self-government by the
people and the revolution which has taken place may lead to a
political monster sim ilar to the ancient Chinese or Peruvian em
pires, i.e., to a renewal of tsarist despotism w ith a communist
lining. But refraining from pessimism, we w ill take into consider
ation the fact that Russia can hardly wait and assume that in
view of such urgency our country w ill hasten to put an end to
autocracy. We are so accommodating that we are ready to adm it
the best possible outcome to be the most probable one and to
concede that the purest kind of government by the people, i.e.,
direct popular legislation, w ill be established in our country.
All we ask is whether it can be expected that the self-governing
people will immediately lay the foundation of the socialist or
ganisation of Russia,
We have long known that
...W o die Begrifje fehlen,
Da stellt ein Wort zur rechten Zeit sich ein ,212
but we ask our reader to ponder the meaning of the words
socialist organisation of production and, in order to make it more
palpable, to imagine the decisions lhat the self-governing
Russian people w ill probably come to on this matter.
The representative assembly w ill be obliged to appeal to the
judgement of the people on all important legislative questions.
It will ask the people whether they approve and endorse the
expropriation of big proprietors which the provisional govern
ment has carried out. And of course the people w ill answer in the
affirmative. The land, the mines, the works and the factories
will be declared state property.
But a change in the owner does not mean a change in the or
ganisation of production. The question of expropriation will lead to
tliat of the exploitation of the confiscated properties.
The self-governing people w ill have to organise on a new basis
the whole of their economy, the production and the distribution
of all their products.
20*
308
G. PLEKHAN OV
W hat form of organisation w ill the people deem necessary?

W ill the m ajority of our peasantry pronounce in favour of com
munism?
Even Mr. Tikhomirov does not expect that. Being in or not
far from their present stage of development, the people would
not wish or even be able to establish a communist economy.
Even as far as corn-growing is concerned, the people would
probably m aintain the present organisation of production. After
socialisation, the land would still be cultivated by individual
households. We already know what that contradiction leads to.
It creates inequality, promotes the development of commodity
production and consequently of the new contradictions insepa
rable from it. The history of the disintegration of the village com
mune and of the appearance of the various social classes would be
repeated in a new form and on a wider scale. Our Narodniks and
Narodnaya Volya members generally see the cause of the disin
tegration of the commune in the hostile attitude adopted to it
by the estate and class state. But after all that has been said
on this subject in the preceding chapter, we need not stop to
refute, or rather to explain the real meaning of that conclusion.
Modern science leaves not the slightest doubt as to inequality
arising in prim itive communities before those communities
themselves organise into a state. Far from being the original cause
for inequality appearing, the state itself is historically its prod
uct. Subsequently the state naturally begins to influence econom
ic relations, to destroy prim itive communism. But he who wishes
to strike at the root of inequality (and without that desire
one cannot be a socialist) must direct his attention mainly to
its radical, not its derivative cause. It would be very inconsistent
on the part of such a one to wish to do away w ith the kind of state
which intensifies inequality and to leave untouched the economic
relations which create the inequality itself and the class state,
too. And that would be the very kind of inconsistency that a
provisional socialist government would suffer from which did
not set itself the aim either of teaching the people, or of coerc
ing it to adopt socialist organisation. By leaving that organisa
tion to producers who are absolutely unprepared for it and con
fining itself to giving the people purely external help it would
at best be chopping down the trunk and leaving untouched the
roots which support it. The former members of such a government
would display great naivete if they showed astonishment at a
new healthier and stronger trunk growing in the place of the old
rotten one.
We repeat, if government by the people were really established
in our country, when asked whether they needed land and whether
i t should be confiscated from the landlords, the self-governing
309
people would answer that they did need it and that it should be
confiscated. But if asked whether they needed the foundation
of the socialist organisation, they would first answer that they
did not understand the meaning of that question, and then, hav
ing understood it w ith great difficulty, they would answer: No,
we don't need that. And as the expropriation of the big landown
ers is by no means equivalent to the foundation of the socialist
organisation", there would not be any socialism as a result of
the seizure of power by the revolutionaries.* The outcome would
be what Mr. Tikhomirov invo luntarily prophesied when he said
that the provisional government would use its power by no
means to create a socialist system . We would be faeed w ith the
same village commune as now. The total difference would be
that, having about three times as much land as at present, the
commune would perhaps disintegrate more slowly and consequent
ly more slowly clear the ground for higher forms of social life.
What about the further independent development of the village
commune? W ell, its development consists in disintegrating! W ho
ever disputes this must prove the opposite; he must show us, if
not historical examples of a village commune becoming a com
munist one, at least of the tendency to such a transition, existing
not in the heads of our Narodniks but in the very organisation of
the commune and in all the dynamics of its agricultural economy.
We know where, how and why the prim itive communist com
munes were changed into communities of individual householders.
But we do not know why and how our Russian village commune
will accomplish the transition into a communist one. L iking an
occasional conversation w ith the Narodniks, we naturally could
not remain unaware that two or three of our communes had organ
ised collective cultivation of the fields. The village of Grekovka,
which has distinguished itself by this good action, was once spo
ken of by absolutely all the friends of the people" and its example
was thought to solve the whole social problem in Russia. But if
the peasants in that famous village were ever persecuted for com
munist tendencies it would not be difficult for their counsel to
prove that the prosecutor knew nothing at all about communist
doctrines. Collective cultivation of the soil is only a little nearer
to communism than collective work in the form of corvee or the
collective ploughing introduced under Nicholas I w ith the help
of bayonets and birch-rods. However stupid the unforgettable
tsar was, even he never thought that collective ploughing could
give rise to an independent movement towards communism in the
village communes. The m ain stress in this question is not on
INoteto thel905 edition. IT his is what our present socialist-rovolutionKies still refuse to understand when they put themselves out to resuscitate
our old "revolutionary prejudices.
310
G. PLEK H A N O V
tho manner in which the householders workindividually or

collectivelybut on the fact whether there are separate household
economies and whether they tend to unite in one communist
whole. The village of Grekovka has shown no such tendency. Its
householders continue to be owners of their products, which they
turn into commodities. And once they do not abolish the commod
ity quality of their products, it can be m athem atically proved
that the strongest tendency in this commune is towards capital
ism and by no means towards communism.
Collective cultivation of the soil is a very good and useful
thing; but it would be strange to th in k that it can be the main
road from the present village commune to the ideals of commu
nism. It can play, if anything, only the role of a small by-road
leading on to a main road which goes in a completely different
direction. It would have rendered great service in the West, where
its role would have amounted to giving the peasants the habit of
collective work and thus decreasing their resistance to the com
munist revolution, in which the in itia tiv e would have fallen to
the proletariat in town and country. But that would have ex
hausted its advantages. In every historical, as well as mechanical
movement, part of the motive force is expended in overcoming
resistance. To decrease the resistance means to free a correspond
ing portion of tho force tied down by it and to accelerate tho
movement. If you pave a m ain street, if you lubricate an engine,
you decrease the labour of the horse drawing a cart and cut down
fuel consumption. But not a single mechanic w ill imagine that
the engine w ill be set in motion just because you have decreased
the friction in its parts, no carter w ill ever dream of unharness
ing his horse as soon as he reaches a well-paved road. Any man
who imagined or did any such thing would be declared insane by
everybody. And there would not bo the slightest mistake in the
verdict. In order to cause movement we need an active, not a pas
sive force, positive, not negative conditions. The same with the
village commune. Collective tillin g of the soil is good provided
there is an active force which causes and accelerates its transition
to a higher form of social life. In the West the proletariat would
play that role, beginning the communist revolution in a complete
ly different sphere, the sphere of large-scale production and
agriculture, in works and factories and on big farms. The force
of the proletariat would be created and directed by absolutely
definite economic relations existing outside and independently of
the commune. But where would we get that force from here in
our peasant state, set up by the revolution of the Narodnaya
Volya party? From among the peasants themselves? I t seems to
Mr. Tikhomirov, we know, that history has some kind of inde
pendent movement towards socialism . He may th in k that such
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
311
an independent movement w ill appear among the peasants aa

well. But we w ill leave Mr. Tikhomirov and talk to less credulous
readers. They w ill agree, at least, that the economic tendencies of
every class are determined by the character of the economic con
ditions in which it lives. Our peasants live in conditions of com
modity production, and in commodity production tho product
dominates the producer and dictates its laws to him . And the laws
of commodity production are such that they promote first and
foremost the development of capitalism and capitalist, by no
means communist, tendencies. Where, then, w ill our peasant get
a tendency towards communism from?
Is that clear? No? Let us go from discussion to comparison.
The Don Cossacks now have as much land as our peasants would
have after the popular (of the Narodnaya Volya party) revolu
tion. They have about th irty dessiatines per person. This land
belongs not to individuals, not even to in d iv id u a l communes,
but to the whole of the glorious troop . The question is: Do the
Don Cossacks show any tendency to introduce communist econ
omy? As far as 1 know, not com m unist, but bourgeois tendencies
are becoming stronger and stronger among them. Perhaps this
will be put down to the corrupting influence of the state? But
there was a time when that influence was almost non-existent;
why did they not then accomplish the transition to communism?
Perhaps, their m ilitary way of life prevented them? Just imagine
the Cossacks, freed altogether from m ilitary service, devoting
themselves entirely to peaceful occupations. W hat would happen
in such a case? We w ill tell you: an intense disintegration of the
remaining traces of prim itive communism among the Cossacks
would set in, then the reign of the Cossack bourgeoisie would be
nearer....
Abundance of land did not save the Cossacks from the appear
ance of inequality and the resulting exploitation of the poor by
the rich. Quite the contrary, abundance of land in itself encour
aged the appearance of inequality.* The late Professor Belyayev,
despite his pronounced Slavophile tendency, perfectly understood
the significance of abundance of land in the history of the rise
of the classes. "N aturally, there was plenty of land in ancient
Russia, far more than was needed at the tim e, and anybody who
wished could occupy w ithout any hindrance enormous expanses
of wild fields and woods which belonged to nobody, naturally,
all those who could afford it did so."** But not everybody had equal
means, and that is why not all occupied the same q uan tity of
(Note to the 1905 edition.] This was confirmed a few years later by
Mr. Borodin's excellent study on the Ural Cossack troop.
* <iltpecTbHHe na Pycwo, 2-e nan., M o c k b b , 1879, CTp. 19. [The Peasants
in Russia, 2nd edition, Moscow, 1879, p. 19.]
312
G. P LEK H A N O V
land; some did not even occupy any at all, having no means what
soever to clear and cultivate it. Hence, inequality in income and
dependence of the poor upon tho rich. Neither is there any doubt
that in some cases the free occupation and cultivation of the
land was not long in leading to the concept of landed property".
This side of the matter has been well set forth by M. Kovalevsky
in his book on communal land tenure .*13 U ntil recent times the
right freely to occupy untilled lands existed in the region of the
Don Cossacks and perhaps still exists today in the Kuban ter
ritory; that was precisely what allowed the rich to become richer,
that is what sowed into that virgin soil the first seeds of the class
struggle.
But the state, transformed by the revolution, would prevent
such a turn of affairs in our country, another reader will say.
I t is difficult to say beforehand what a peoples state would do
in one particular case or another, but, having an idea of the eco
nomic conditions under which the m ajority of citizens live, it is
not difficult to foresee the general direction that the economic
policy of such a state would take. According to Mr. Tikhomirovs
own expectations" the revolutionary state established would be
m ainly a state of peasants. Being both unw illing and unable to
lay the foundation of the socialist organisation in his own com
mune, the peasant would also be both unable and unw illing to set
up such an organisation w ithin the^broader lim its of the state.
The economic policy of the peoplesjstate would be just as little
communist as that of the individual peasant communes out of
which it would be formed. It goes w ithout saying that the state
would endeavour to elim inate abuses which could arise as a
result of the distribution of social lands to individual persons or
groups for cultivation. B ut it would never bring itself to take
away stocks and instruments belonging to the better-off household
ers. S im ilarly, it would consider as perfectly just and nalural
to lim it the right of landed property only by the owners labour
and means, which, naturally, would be his private property. If in
fact the peasant has any definite ideals for the social structure,
there is no doubt that the freedom by which everybody can occupy
free land wherever his axe, plough, and scythe can go has a
great part in them. The popular revolution would provide, at
least partly, the possibility to put those ideals into practice;
but that would lead, as we know, to inequality between the agri
culturists. Once that impulse given, the inequality could, of
course, reach its natural extreme and reduce to n il all the results
of the popular revolution .
Further. The peasant state would naturally leave untouched
not only trade, but also, toTa great extent, industrial capital.
Mr. Tikhomirov himself apparently admits this when he pre-
OCR D IFFER EN C ES
313
sumes that the peoples revolution would only render powerless

"the already weak nobility and bourgeoisie. To render powerless
does not mean to destroy. Need we say what results the existence
of trade and industrial capital would lead to? Mr. Tikhomirov
assumes that these results would be prevented by that same peo
ple's government. But we w ill draw his attention to the fact that
not all that seems dangerous to the socialist is so in the eyes of
the peasant, and consequently of a peasant government. Whereas
Mr. Tikhomirov and we are opposed generally to private busi
ness capital , the peasant waxes indignant only over certain appli
cations of the capitalist principle, he has no objection to its sub
stance. He fully acknowledges the possibility of private business
enrichment. That being the case, the peoples government w ill
not have any objection to it either. Its radicalism will at best
engage in the struggle against the big capital of the manufacturer, but the government w ill not even th in k of setting a lim it to
exploitation by the master in general. Hence this is already a
second factor leading to the disappearance of the relative equal
ity established by the revolution. Mr. Tikhomirov thinks that
this factor w ill be rendered powerless by the removal of the land
from the domain of exploitation. But we already know that the
land will not be altogether removed from it; the peoples govern
ment will tolerate both inequality in the distribution of land and
the possibility of hiring a labourer from among the ruined house
holders. Peasant ideals are easily reconciled w ith hired labour.
Besides, anybody who understands the matter knows that only
so-called petty-bourgeois socialism hopes to help the people by
rendering powerless the bourgeoisie or removing from the
domain of exploitation" this or that particular means of produc
tion. And the only reason why it hopes to do so is because the
people" in whom it is interested are the petty bourgeoisie, who
stand only to gain if the big bourgeoisie is rendered powerless".
It is a distinctive feature of petty-bourgeois socialism that its
reform plans leave commodity production untouched. This is the
origin of its complete theoretical and practical powerlessness.
Tho truly revolutionary working-class movement of the present
has nothing in common w ith the cowardly fantasies of the petty
bourgeoisie. Unfortunately, Russian socialism as expressed ... in
Mr. Tikhomirovs article is much nearer in this case to the social
ism of the petty bourgeoisie than to that of the working class
Like the former, it does not carry its revolutionary projects as
far as the elim ination of commodity production. It leaves that
care to the future, post-revolution history of the Russian state.
Completely ignoring the significance of economic evolution in
the analysis of its revolutionary premises, it places exaggerated
hopes in it as soon as it is concerned w ith results of the upheaval
314
G. PLEK HA N O V
which it recommends. I t calls for revolution where it is unthink

able w ithout prelim inary evolution and appeals to evolution
where it is impossible w ithout a radical economic revolution. It
wants to be m ainly revolutionary but it falls into half-measures
and inconsistency as far as the substance is concerned.* We will
soon see where it borrowed this typical trait, which reduces to
n il all its revolutionary phrases.
In his efforts to convince his readers that a peoples government
w ill be able to paralyse the harmful consequences of the impend
ing half-measure economic revolution, Mr. Tikhomirov repre
sents the probable course of Russias future social development as
follows:
The government, responsible for the course of affairs in the
country, has an interest in the countrys prosperity, for its own
popularity depends upon it, and the government w ill no doubt
be obliged to take measures to increase labour productivity and,
among other things, to organise large-scale production.... Largescale production is too obviously advantageous and necessary,
in m any cases it is even inevitable. The popular masses can un
derstand that easily. Moreover (and this is particularly inter
esting, we w ill remark), private undertaking, slowed down in the
dom ain of capitalist production, w ill try in all respects (just
im agine, what an id y ll!) to make clear to tho peoplo the advan
tage and convenience of social production.... We w ill not even
mention the socialist intelligentsias influence on the people...,
W hy can there not thus be gradually effected a transition of the
village commune into an association, an organisation of exchange
among the communes and associations of communes, an association
of several communes for some production or other, u n til the so
cialist system, developing little by little and increasingly ousting
private economy, finally extends to all the functions of the coun
try. Then, the advent of the socialist revolution, in some
countries of Europe if not in the whole of it ,... w ill place Russia
in the almost unconditional necessity to organise her internation
al exchange on the same" (i.e., socialist) principles and hence
w ill almost impose upon us socialist organisation in the sphere of
home exchange" (pp. 258-59). That is how this question is
viewed by Mr. Tikhomirov. Before exam ining its substance we
shall make two incidental remarks.
Our author pins great hopes on the influence of the Russian
socialist intelligentsia and the West European working-class
revolution. We also recognise the significance of that influence
but think that it cannot be unconditional. First of all, where did
Mr. T ikhom irov get the idea that after the peasant revolution not
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] This again applies in full to the presen
socialist-revolutionaries".
OU R D IFFE R E N C E S
315
only a socialist intelligentsia, but any intelligentsia at all in

tlit' present sense of the word w ill be born unhindered? At pres
ent, our socialist intelligentsia, like any other, come m ainly
from among the official, landlord, merchant and ecclesiastical
walks of life, that is, from the higher sections of society, who see
education as a means for m aking a career. W hile producing career
ists, our universities also, by the way, create revolutionaries.
But both careerists and revolutionaries arc a product of the exist
ence of the bureaucratic state and the higher classes. This is so
far beyond doubt that the consciousness of their bourgeois ori
gin impelled our revolutionaries, on tho one hand, lo speak of
their duty to the people and, on the other, systematically to
contrast themselves w ith the people. The socialist intelligentsia
are conscious that they form nothing more than one of the
branches of the common trunk of the official-ridden class state.
Mr. Tikhomirov wants to fell that trunk but at the same time
he hopes that the branch which is dear to him , far from w ith
ering, will be born unhindered. That reminds one of the wellknown anecdote about the U krainian who, having chopped down
the bough he was sitting on, was surprised at his own fall. Or
perhaps Mr, Tikhomirov thinks that after tho popular revolu
tion the socialist intelligentsia w ill be born unhindered" from
the peasantry itself? In that case we fear he is mistaken.
What does the meaning of the revolution he is expecting"
amount to? To an agrarian upheaval, to the expropriation of
the big landowners, to the possibility to give the peasants allot
ments three times as large as the present ones, to the abolition
of oppressing taxation. Does Mr. Tikhom irov presume that such
an increase in allotments w ill convince the peasants that higher
education is a necessity, that it w ill compel them, themselves, to
send their children to university and their government to support
and institute higher educational establishments?
The large quantity of land w ill so much simplify the peasants
position, w ill so greatly increase the importance of extra work
ing hands in his fam ily that the peasantry w ill see neither the
necessity nor any possibility of spending much money and time
on higher education.
L'niversities are necessary for a state of officials, of bourgeoisie
and of gentry, and they w ill eventually be necessary for the pro
letariat., who, without higher scientific education, w ill be unable
to cope with the productive forces which w ill have come under
their command; but in the reign of the peasant communes u n i
versities will be a luxury having little attraction for practicalminded householders. Rut let us grant that the peasants can
"easily understand the significance of higher education. Let us
remember, besides, that after the popular revolution both the
316
G. PLEK H A N O V
bourgeoisie and the gentry w ill remain; let us assume that both
of them w ill be rendered powerless to the extent necessary for
them to be able to send their children to higher schools without
harming the people economically. W hy does Mr. Tikhomirov
think that those schools w ill be nurseries of socialist, intelligen
tsia? In Switzerland we happen to see, on the one hand, a well-todo peasantry and, on the other, a fairly powerless, i.e., pot 1 y,
bourgeoisie. Do m any socialists come from Ihe Swiss schools,
where, in fact, the number of peasants children is not at all
negligible?
Yet isnt it easy for the Swiss peasants to understand the
advantage of the socialist organisation of production?
Of course it is, but still they dont understand it! They don't
want to hear of socialism and this is not helped by their surviv
als of communal land tenure and their famous collective
dairies!
The advantages of socialist way of life are so apparent that
they would seem easy to understand for everybody. But only
the socialists of the utopian period could fail to know that under
standing of socialism can be achieved only combined with actual
economic necessity. And in a peasant state such a necessity can
be present only as a rare coincidence.
And what about the present intelligentsia? the reader w ill ask.
Can they not, when they experience the peoples revolution, de
vote their energies to the service of the people and to organis
ing their labour and their social relations?
Are there m any such intellectuals? Do they excuse me for
askingunderstand much themselves? W h at w ill they do against
the inexorable logic of commodity production?
W ill their exertions be aided by the West European revolution?
It is that revolution we want to talk about now.
The West European revolution w ill be m ighty, but not almighty.
To have a decisive influence on other countries, the socialist
countries of the West w ill need some kind of vehicle for that influ
ence. International exchange is a powerful vehicle, but it is
not alm ighty either. The Europeans have brisk trade w ith China,
but one can hardly be confident that the working-class revolution
in the West w ill very soon impose" socialist organisation in the
sphere of home exchange on China. W hy? Because China's "social
structure seriously hinders European ideas and institutions
in having decisive influence on it. The same can be said of Tur
key, Persia, and so on. But what is the social structure" of
the Sublim e Porte? First and foremost a peasant state in which
there is still not only the village commune, but also the zadrnga,
which, according to our Narodniks scheme, is much closer to
socialism. And despite this, despite all the popular revolutions
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
317
in the Turkish Empire, there can be no thought of the European

proletariat succeeding w ithout any difficulty in imposing so
cialism on Turkish citizens, even those of Slav origin. Here again
a distinction must be made between the active force of circum
stances impelling the people towards socialism and the negative
conditions which only ease the transition to socialism. The objec
tive logic of the relations inside peasant states by no means im
poses upon them a socialist organisation in the sphere of home
exchange ; and what is imposed upon them purely from outside
cannot be crowned w ith success. No doubt the European workingclass revolution w ill have a very powerful influence on those
countries in which at least some strata of the citizeqs resemble the
European working class by their economic situation, their polit
ical education and their habits of thought. Its influence w ill be
rather weak, on the contrary, where there are no such strata. The
February Revolution had an echo in nearly all countries which
resembled France by their social structure . But the wave which
it raised broke on the threshold of peasant Europe. Beware lest
the same happens, too, w ith the future revolution of the prole
tariat!
The meaning of this fable is that West is West and Russia is
Russia, or, in other words, dont count on eating somebody elses
loaf, but yourself get up early and start baking your own. How
ever powerful the possible influence of tho European revolution
may be, we must bother about, providing the conditions which
would render that influence effective. As for Mr. T ikhom irovs
half-measure peasant and petty-bourgeois revolution, far from
creating those conditions, it w ill destroy even those which actu
ally exist at present.
In this case, as in all others, a ll Mr. Tikhom irov's expecta
tions are full of contradictions. The influence of the West on
Russia appears possible to him thanks to international exchange .
From this it follows that the brisker that exchange is, the sooner
ihe West w ill impose upon us a "socialist organisation in the
sphere of home exchange. But the development of our internation
al trado relations presupposes the development of trade, com
modity production in our country. And the more commodity
production develops, the more the relative economic equality
resulting from the peoples revolution will be upset, and the more
difficult will be socialist organisation in the sphere of home
exchange, at least for the time being, i.e., u n til the development
of commodity production reaches its logical end. But in that case
the popular revolution which has been carried out w ill lose
all its meaning.
Thus, if after the upheaval we return to natural economy, we
shall have relative equality , but then the West w ill be unable
318
G. P LEK H A N O V
to influence us because of the weakness of international exchange.

On the other hand, if commodity production develops in our coun
try, it w ill he difficult for the West to influence us because our
relative equality w ill be seriously upset and Russia will be
transformed into a country of petty bourgeoisie. That is the vi
cious circle in which Mr. T ikhom irovs expectations from the
West are fated lo go round and round. That is what it means to
be a metaphysician, that is what it means to consider things onp
after the other and apart from each other !214
M ein theuerer Freund, ich rath'euch drum
Zuerst Collegium logicum . z16
These are the contradictory hopes pinned on the West by
those who suspect the whole of modern European history of
being hazardous and unbelievable ! R eally, collegium logicum
would be very useful for Mr. Tikhomirov!
H aving concluded these remarks, let us now go on to the main
content of the excerpt quoted above.
ft. L. TIKHOMIROV W A V E RS BETWEEN BLANQUISM
AND BAKUNINISM
In his projects for the socialisl organisation of Russia Mr. Ti

khomirov is a Bakuninist of the first water. I t is true, he does
not abolish the state, but his state helps the process of this
organisation purely from outside; it does not create the ele
ments of that process, but only supports them . P. N. Tkachov,
who is Mr. T ikhom irovs immediate ancestor, presumed that |
having seized power, the m inority must impose" socialism on |
the m ajority. Mr. Tikhom irovs government eases for the people 1
the organisation of social production w ithout any violence,
coming to the help of only such a movement which cannot but
arise independently in the country". In his argumentson the present,
Mr. Tikhom irov was Tkachovs true disciple. H is expectations
from the future are an instance of atavism in ideas, of a return
to the theories of a more distant spiritual ancestor.
The anarchist A rthur A rnoult, as we know, wrote: abolish
the state, and the economic forces w ill come into equilibrium
as a result of the simple law of statics . 214 Mr. Tikhomirov says:
abolish the modern state, expropriate the big landowners, and
the economic forces of Russia w ill begin independently to
come into equilibrium . The former appeals to a law of statics,
the latter to popular concepts and habits", i.e., to the same
ideal of the people with which we are fam iliar from the works
of M. A. Bakunin. Arthur Arnoult aims at the state and does
not notice that his criticism applies only to the modern state,
the stale of bourgeois centralism. Mr. Tikhomirov wishes to set
319
up a people's state, and he devises a new form of petty-bour

geois slate, a state which, w ithout definitely abandoning the
principle of laissez faire, laissez passer, i.e., without creating
anything", manages, all the same, to support the independent
movement of history in our country towards the socialist system.
Bakuninism is not a system, it is a series of contradictions
which Messrs. Ihe Bakuninists and the anarchists share in con
formity with the general aggregate of concepts and habits
of each.
Our author has chosen the peculiar variety of Bakuninism that
degenerated into P. N. Tkachovs programme. But he has not
remained faithful to that programme to the end. The exhorta
tions of his first teacher are too fresh in his m ind, he has not
forgotten that although our people are most obviously in need
of help, at the same lim e one must be an unmitigated block
head" to attempt to teach the people anything or to endeavour
to give lheir life a new direction. And so lie has made up his
mind to devise a revolutionary government which would give
the people purely external help, which, without any desire
to "use coercion on the popular masses or even to teach them ,
would nevertheless guide the matter to a successful end.
We asked Mr. Tikhom irov in what way the socio-political
philosophy of his article differs from the philosophy of the Open
Letter to Frederick Engels . Now it w ill not be difficult for us
to answer that question ourselves. It differs by its pallor and
timidity of thought, its desire to reconcile the irreconcilable.
What can one say about the pale copy if the original itself, as
Engels said, could attract only green gymnasium pupils?
M. A. Bakunin professed irreconcilable haired for any form
of state and advised our revolutionaries not lo seize power,
because all power is of the devil. P. N. Tkachov was of the opinion
that they should seize power and hold it for a long time.
Mr. Tikhomirov has chosen the golden mean. lie thinks that the
seizure of power can easily prove to be useful and necessary",
hut at the same time he assumes that the revolutionaries should
not strive to keep power indefinitely, but only hold it until the
popular revolution begins.
From this awkward position between two stools there can be
only two ways out. Our author can seat himselT on B a ku n in s
or on Tkachovs stool: he can become an anarchist or a consistent
follower (not only a secret pupil) of P. N. Tkachov. But lie will
hardly succeed in breathing into the Narodnaya Volya pro
gramme a really new content; he w ill hardly manage to prove
thal this or that new idea found recognition only with the appear
ance of tlie Narodnaya Volya trend. Never yet did empty eclec
ticism give birth to new m ighty theories, never yet did lim id
320
G. PLEK H A N O V
hesitation between two old programmes open a new epoch

in lhe history of revolutionary ideas in any country!
And so Mr. Tikhomirov w ill be a follower of Tkachov in the
first day of the revolution and changc into a Bakuninist imme
diately its honeymoon expires.
B ut what is Bukuninisrn when applied to the lendemain do
la revolution? We repeat, B akuninism is not a system. It is
a mixture of the socialist theories of the L atin countries" and
Russian peasant ideals, of Proudhons popular bank and tho
village commune, of Fourier and Stenka Razin.
That mixture is characteristic of the kind of process of social
isation of labour recommended to our country by Mr. Tikho
mirov and which not only never existed anywhere but never
can either.
W itho ut any exaggeration one can apply to this process"
Famusov's words:
Everything
is there,
provided there's no
deceptionI
There we have the village commune, we have the transition of

the village commune into an association , we have also an organi
sation of exchange among the communes and associations of com
munes, and besides all that we also have an association of
several communes for some production or other"', in brief, we have here
the notorious Bakuninist-anarchist organisation of the produc
ers from bottom to top. If the reader has any idea of this organ
isation, he needs no further proof of Tikhom irovs Bakuninism.
But if he has not had the opportunity to become acquainted
w ith the theories of anarchism (which, of course, is no great
loss) we recommend that he should read a little pamphlet by
a certain once well-known Guillaum e called Idees sur Vorganisation sociale. Once acquainted w ith the process of socialisation
of labour suggested in the pamphlet, he w ill see that the revo
lutionary theories of Russian exceptionalists are very closely
related to the theories of the European anarchists.
It is difficult for an intelligent Russian to get away from the
influence of the West". By declaring the most advanced theories
of Europe to be inapplicable to his own country, the Russian
social figure does not save his exceptionalism, but only transfers
his sympathy from a serious model to a caricature. Mr. V. V. turns
out to be a full brother of the imperial and royal state social
ists and Mr. Tikhomirov an anarchist standing on his head.
But a position so awkward for our author does not very much
promote consistency in his thinking. That is why he does not
reach the conclusions at which M. A. Bakunin arrived in his
time. Even Mr. Tikhom irovs most daring outbreaks of revo
lutionary fantasy do not extend to abolishing the businessman's
OU R D IFFEREN CES
321
profit. In the organisation of social" production, the business

man. as an undertaker and an able manager (Bastial himself
would not repudiate such a motive) still acquires some advan
tages, fewer, of course, than at present, but the only advantages
accessible to him at that time .* This part of the project of the
"socialist organisation of Russia somehow reminds one, on the
one hand, of the petty-bourgeois socialists jealous attitude
to the enormous profits of the big businessman and, on the
other, of the distribution of the income between labour, capital
and talent recommended by Fourier. Not w ithout reason did
we say that some varieties of Russian socialism are nothing
more than a mixture of Fourier and Stenka Razin.
However, in all this, tho reader w ill think, there is at least
no deception.
|
Granted, there is no deception, but there is self-deception.
There is not even the slightest ill intent, but there is an enor
mous dose of naivete. And it consists in nothing else than tho
talk about the socialist organisation of exchange. For anybody
who understands the matter, this is an absurdity, stuff and
nonsense. O nly petty-bourgeois followers of the petty-bo\irgeois
Proudhon could take this absurdity for anything possible or
desirable. But on the other hand it was said of Proudhon that
he understood as much about dialectics as a woodcutter about
botany. The social structure created by the proletariat can have
nothing in common w ith exchange and w ill know only distri
bution of the products according to the requirements of the working
puople. Some inconsistent Communists find a distribution more
convenient if it is proportional to the share the worker has in
production. It would not be difficult to find weak sides in such
a demand.** Nevertheless, even those who put forward that,
demand have always understood the im possibility of exchange
in a socialist state.
Whenever you say exchange you im ply commodity, and if
you retain commodities, you presuppose all the contradictions
inherent in the commodity. And once more, only anarchists
could think, to quote Proudhon, that there is a philosophers
slone which makes il possible to remove from socialist exchange
all the "bourgeois contradictions contained in ordinary exchange.
There is not and cannot be any such stone, because exchange
is a basic and inseparable attribute of bourgeois production,
and bourgeois production is a necessary consequence of exchange.
As recently as the late fifties Karl Marx splendidly explained
this side of the matter and thus left far behind the present-day
* Vestnik Narodnoi Voli No. 2, What Can We Expect , etc., p. 258.
** (Note to the 1905 edition.) Of course this demand is inconsistent only
s an ideal, as a transitional measure it can turn out to be perfectly expedient.
322
G. P LEK H A N O V
scientific progress the potty-bourgeois theories of the anarchists

and Bakuninists of all colours and shades. 217 One must be ignorant
of the very A BC of revolutionary socialism to base one's expec
tations from the revolution on the socialist organisation of
exchange.
We have already had occasion lo speak of this question in
another place* but it is so interesting lh a l it w ill do no harm
to repeat what we have said. To make it more comprehensible,
this time we shall leave aside the abstract formulae of science
and confine ourselves to simple and vivid examples.
Socialist exchange is exchange without money, (he direct
exchange of product for product according to the quantity of
labour expended in their production. It was in that form that
the idea emerged from the head of Proudhon, who, by the way,
repeated on this occasion a mistake made long before him.
Let us now imagine that on the day after the revolution"
our Bakuninists have succeeded in convincing the Torkhovo com
mune in Tula Gubernia, which we have already mentioned, of the
advantages of the socialist organisation of exchange. The members
of the commune have decided to lay the foundation of such
an organisation and published thoir decision in some kind of
Narodniye Vedomosti. Their call is answered by lhe Arkhangelsk
fishers, the Novgorod nail-makers, the K im ry shoemakers, the
Tula samovar-makers and the .Moscow tailors, all members of
workers associations or village communes. They also have been
imbued w ith the new principles of exchange under the influence
of the Bakuninists who are born unhindered. No sooner said
than done: an agreement is concluded and it only remains
to put it in practice. After the corn harvest our Proudhonist
peasants get down to exchange. They send a certain quantity
of corn to Arkhangelsk and receive fish from there; they dispatch
a few loads of potatoes to K im ry and bring back boots. They
offer the tailors m illet, nail-makers groats and the like. All
these things are sent not as signs of good w ill, but in accordance
with the conditions previously agreed upon. They will all have
to be transported over long distances and w itli great trouble
and it would probably have been more profitable to dispose
of them on the neighbouring market; but our peasants are people
of principle and are ready lo defend lhe new principle of exchange
even if, as lliey say, it costs more than it is worth. And so lhe
exchange is carried out, our village commune members have
nails, fish, shoes, samovars and ready-made clothing. But the
point is that far from all the peasants requirements are satisfied
by these articles. They need other articles of consumption, agriof
*
[Note to lhe 1905 edition.] I here refer to my exposition and criticism
Rodbertus economic doctrine.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
323
cultural implements, fertilisers, cattle and so 0 11 . Those who

produce all these thingsdonot wish to enter into socialist exchange,
perhaps because they have read Marx and laugh at Proudhons
economic discoveries, or perhaps because they have not reached
the stage of development needed to understand Proudhons
wisdom and are still ordinary commodity producers. For even
Mr. Tikhomirov presumes that the socialist system which he
recommends w ill develop only little by little. What then must,
our Torkhovo Proudhonisls do in such a case? llow will they
satisfy the numerous requirements not covered by means of
socialist" exchange? They have only one way out: to buy what
they have not got. This will also be the case for the tailors, who
naturally cannot live on millet, alone, and for the nail-makers,
who cannot subsist only on groats. In short, side by side w ith
fair, socialist exchange tho old. so lo speak heathen, form
of exchange for money w ill continue to exist. This cursed money
(maudit argent) w ill have to be resorted to oven in dealings
between the proselytes of Promlhonism. If the K im ry shoemak
ers need only a quantity of potatoes which embodies r days
work, whereas tho Torkhovo people need a number of pairs of
hoots requiring twice as many days to make, the difference w ill
have lo be made up in money, if the Kim ry people do not want
oats, hay or straw, or any other agricultural products. This
can easily be the case if Mr. Prugavins prophecy comes true
and the Kim ry shoemakers again lake to agriculture with tho
improvement in its conditions . What will happen then? Becoming
organised only little by little , the Proudhonist producers will
have against them the enormous mass of producers of the old
economic faith, and the negligible progress made with the
help of the "socialist organisation of exchange will always be
outbalanced by the regression in relative equality which will
result inevitably from commodity product ion and ordinary
bourgeois exchange. Vice will outweigh virtue, bourgeois
relationships w ill take the upper hand over Proudhonist social
ism. Surrounded by the petty-bourgeois m ajority, the Proudhonists themselves will begin to be perverted, all lhe more
as their own wealth will be largely in money of tin? old exploit
ers " kind. Templed by enrichment, tho K im ry people can
send the Torkhovo people boots w illi cardboard soles, for
which the Torkhovo people w ill not fail to pay them back
with half-rotten taties. Tho enemy is strong in general, hut
in the present case his strength w ill lean on the invincible logic
of commodity production, which w ill dominate even in the
village communes after they have entered into socialist exchange.
The associations which were* set up with difficulty w ill disin
tegrate, the Proudhonisls w ill turn into ordinary petty-bourgeois.
21*
324
G. PLEK H A N O V
producers and the intelligentsia who have been brought up on

Bakuninism w ill need repeatedly to set about the ungrateful
work of spreading the new economic principles. It is the tale
of the white bullock, Sisyphean labours! And that is the toil
which Mr. Tikhom irov imposes on the Russian socialists merely
to bring the reign of socialism as near as possible, so as not to
approach it by the slow and difficult road of capitalism. It is
a case of haste m aking waste.
On the question of socialist organisation in the sphere of
home exchange as on that of international trade, one must
have in m ind this alternative: either the popular revolution
w ill bring us back to natural economy and then socialist exchange"
w ill develop slowly in our country, because exchange generally
w ill be very weak; or else the revolution w ill preserve the present
tendency towards greater and greater division of labour, towards
the complete separation of agriculture from industry, and then
the socialist organisation of exchange w ill be an extremely
difficult task because of the great intricacy of the countrys
productive mechanism. And yet the slow development of the
socialist organisation of exchange robs it even of the sense which
its supporters see in it. To cut off at least one village commune
from the disintegrating influence of money economy, that com
mune must manage to organise socialist exchange w ith all the
producers whose products correspond to its various requirements.
In the contrary event, its monstrous money-socialist organism
would choke in its own contradictions. B ut one single commune
cannot supply agricultural produce to a ll the producers of all
the consumer goods it requires. Those producers w ill either have
to buy part of the raw material they require, and in turn to have
a monstrous money-moneyless economy, which w ill cause their
socialist plans to flounder; or they w ill have to w ait for the blessed
time when the number of Proudhonist village communes attains
the sufficient and necessary level. W ith the advent of that blessed
tim e it w ill be possible to organise the first m inim um production
and exchange organisation. But what is one such organisation
in the immense economic organism of the Russian state? It will
be stifled in the surrounding atmosphere of competition. It will
be like a drop of honey in a barrel of pitch. Alongside it and
against it there w ill be all the heathen producers; the nobility
and the bourgeoisie, who, though rendered powerless, have
not been destroyed by the popular revolution, w ill try to trip
it up at every step. W hat do you thin k, reader: w ill the socialist
system finally extend to all the functions of the country under
such conditions? We think that it at best w ill take a very, very
long time. And yet, we repeat, Mr. Tikhom irov indicates such
& process of socialisation of labour only because of its rapid
OUR D IFFEREN CES
325
assault on history. The road that Social-Democracy in all civi

lised countries has chosen seems to him too moderate and pain
staking. Our author has chosen the straight path and has
got stuck in the quagmire of petty-bourgeois reforms which
display no consistency, originality or daring at all.
But let us not digress. Suppose the socialist organisation of
exchange is rapid and successful. Let us see what the practical
application of its principles w ill lead to.
The Torkhovo village commune has entered into a union w ith
Ihe association of the K im ry shoemakers. Their products are
exchanged on the basis of constituted value , the yardstick
of which is labour and labour alone. Proudhon has triumphed.
But the practical and prosperous" Torkhovo householders
raise the question, which kind of labour must serve as the measure
of value? The more ideally inclined K im ry people (shoemakers
are always philosophers to some extent) have no difficulty in
giving the answer. They say that the measure of value must
be labour in general, abstract hum an labour. But the free corngrowers are not browbeaten. They say they do not know any
such kind of labour and that although it may exist scientifically ,
they have to do with the concrete and definite labour of the
shoemakers Pyotr, Ivan and Fyodor or a whole association of
Pyotrs, Ivans and Fyodors. They are a prey to bourgeois doubts
and they suppose that to give the K im ry people all the more
bread the more time they take to make the boots means to insti
tute a prize for in ab ility , slowness and clumsiness. Exasperated
by the lack of understanding displayed by the peasants the
shoemakers leave Proudhon aside and appeal, they think, to
Marx himself. They say that the measure of the value of their
products must be the socially necessary labour , the average
labour necessary to make boots under the present development
of technique. But even that argument does not overcome the
obstinacy of the Torkhovo peasants. They do not understand
how one can determine the exact quantity of socially necessary
labour contained in the work of the importunate shoemakers.
Then the latter seek salvation in Rodbertus and trium phantly
bring along his pamphlet Der Normalarbeitstag and his corres
pondence with the Schwerin architect Peters. The Pomeranian
economist, proves that it is always possible to determine exactly
how much the average workman can and must do in a particular
branch of production. That average productive labour must
he reckoned as socially necessary labour. He who can exceed
that norm w ill receive more, he who cannot reach it, less; the
question seems finally exhausted. But just, a m inute, exclaim
the Torkhovo peasants, who were on the point of yielding. Suppose
the average productivity of your labour and ours can be deter-
326
G. PLEK HA N O V
mined. We hope that the matter w ill be taken in hand by the

state which promotes" the socialist organisation of exchange.
Suppose it takes two days labour to make a pair of boots. But
there are many other shoemakers besides your association. They
produce for the market, and you, who have sent us thirty pairs
of boots, put thousands of pairs on the market. Imagine that
the supply of boots exceeds the demand. Then their exchange
value drops loo, because each pair of boots w ill represent only
one and a half or three-quarters of a days socially necessary
labour. Do you th in k we w ill givo you the same amount of corn
as before? That would be very unprofitable for us, and charity
begins at home, you know. If, on the contrary, not enough boots
are made, it w ill not pay you to sell them at Ihe former fair
socialist price. In general, it seems lo us that the basis of fairness
is the u tilita rian principle and that no bargain can be consid
ered as fair which causes detriment to one party or the other.
Hut with the present fluctuation of prices on commodities it
is absolutely impossible lo balance our m utual interests, since
the relation of the individual labour of separate producers or
the aggregate labour of a whole association of producers to the
socially necessary labour is determined only by those fluctuations.
So as long as the commodity market dictates to us the condi
tions for our socialist exchange, the whole of our agreement
w ill be nothing but vain beating of the air. It w ill bring us jnst
as much profit as if we agreed to write our b ills in Roman instead
of Arabic figures. You shoemakers have long been noted not only
for drunkenness, but for a great inclination to fantasy as well,
whereas we peasants are reasonable and have no intention of
wasting our
lime on nonsense.
Rut don t you see that the inconveniences of socialist exchange
w ill exist only u n til all producers agree to join in, the shoemak
ers w ill answer. When that time conies nothing w ill prevent
socialist exchange from exlending to all the functions of the
country.
Yes. but
that is coming at a snail's pace, the corn-growers
w ill object.
If everybody agrees to that, we, of course, will not
go against the village commune. Rut until then it doesnt suit us.
The implementation of the agreement is thus postponed
indefinitely, and meanwhile commodity production takes its
normal course and undermines the relative equality.
Tt. follows from all this that Ihe tim e of the socialist organ
isation in the sphere of home exchange w ill not come until
it is possible to remove all the contradictions that have been
pointed out. And lhat w ill be possible only when the labour of
each individual person assumes a social character. That can be
the case only when the whole of the social production mechanism
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
327
constitutes a single planned e ntily. But then the organisation

of exchange w ill be the fifth wheel to a cari, because any exchange
has sense only as long as the production mechanism in society
consists of separate parts not organically linked, i.e., as long
as the labour of the producers has an in d iv id ua l, not a social
character. Neither the tribal nor the fam ily community knew
any home exchange or needed to organise it, for tho simple
reason that they wore based on organised production: if they
needed anything it was only some kind of distribution quota.
But with the present development of the productive forces even
those quotas can be based on a single principle that of hum an
requirements. After our excursion along the road of socialist
organisation of exchange wo again come back lo 'o u r startingpoint. We arrive back again at the question: how w ill the socialist
organisation of production make its appearance in Russia? We
have seen that it w ill not be introduced by either a provisional
or a permanent peoples government; we have also seen that
neither communal land tenure nor communal cultivation of the
soil will lead to it. Moreover, we are now convinced that socialist
organisation in the sphere of home exchange w ill not lead to it
either. And yet Mr. Tikhom irov prophesied to us the foundation
of the socialist organisation of Russia; that was the whole idea
of his Narodnaya Volya revolution, flow, then, w ill his prophecy
come true?
One must have faith, Mr. Tikhom irov exclaims. Faith "in the
people, in ones own strength, in the revolution.
I believe, Lord, help me in my lack of faith! We know that
faith is a beautiful thing; that it is faith that guides the navi
gator when, trusting to fate his frail bark, he prefers the fickle
movement of the waves to the more solid element, the land.
But the same divinely inspired father who makes this apology
of faith could also tell us in what unstable equilibrium faith
finds itself when it enters into contradiction w ith reason. And
Mr. Tikhomirovs faith suffers greatly from that gross defect.
He has faith in his own, semi-Bakuninist, semi-Tkachovist
revolution only because his reason is perfectly satisfied w ith
the Tkachov-Bakunin philosophy. But as soon as his reason
becomes more exacting not a trace of this faith of his w ill be
left. He will then understand that he was cruelly mistaken when
he considered it permissible to talk about the economic revolu
tion knowing nothing at all about the ABC of economics, i.e.,
having no idea of money, commodity and exchange.
For the rest, we shall not make any special reproach to our
author on these last grounds. We w ill say: his faith has saved
him. He has been mistaken only because lie had faith in Tkachov
and Bakunin; not he is to blame, but those who tempted him .
328
G. PLEK H A N O V
Tho important tiling for us is the conclusion from all lhat

has been said. And we can formulate it as follows: a ll Mr. Ti
khomirov's expectations from the revolution" are nothing but a con
tinual misunderstanding and a return of advanced Russian thought
to the beaten track of Bakuninism. But what was is overgrown
with the past, and what w ill be w ill not be in the old way, but
in a new way, as the popular song says. Discredited in the seven
ties, Bakuninism w ill not be revived in the eighties. It will not
be resuscitated even by men either more eloquent or more noisy
than Mr. Tikhomirov.
Those of our readers to whom this conclusion seems convincing
can raise a new and last objection. They can say that our argu
ments are founded on the supposition that Mr. Tikhomirov will
only take power, but w ill not hold it for any length of time. What
w ill happen if the revolutionaries, instead of following Mr. Ti
khom irovs directions, follow those of Tkachov, if they justify
the opinion of P. L. Lavrov who, as much as ten years ago, said
that the dictatorship can be wrenched from the hands of the
dictators only by a new revolution?
5. PROBABLE CONSEQUENCES OF THE SEIZURE
OF PO W ER BY THE SOCIALISTS
W h at w ill happen then? Oh, then there w ill be' a most dis
graceful fiasco for the Russian socialist party! It w ill be obliged
to undertake an organisation for which it has neither the neces
sary strength nor the requisite understanding. Everything will
combine to defeat it: its own unpreparedness, the hostility of
the higher estates and the rural bourgeoisie, the peoples indiffer
ence to its organisational plans and the underdeveloped state
of our economic relations in general. The Russian socialist party
w ill provide but a new historical example corroborating the
thought expressed by Engels in connection w ith the Peasant
W ar in Germany. The worst thing that can befall a leader of
an extreme party is to be compelled to take over a government
in an epoch when the movement is not yet ripe for the domination
of the class which he represents, and for the realisation of the
measures which that domination implies. W h at he can do depends
not upon his w ill but upon the degree of contradiction between
the various classes, and upon the level of development of the
material means of existence, of the conditions of production and
commerce upon which class contradictions always repose. What
he ought to do, what his party demands of him , again depends
not upon him or the stage of development of the class strugglo
and its conditions. He is bound to the doctrines and demands
hitherto propounded which, again, do not proceed from the
OUH D IFFE R E N C E S
329
class relations of the moment,* or from the more or less acciden

tal* level of production and commerce, but from his more or less
penetrating insight into the general result of the social and political
movement. Thus, ho necessarily finds himself in an insolvable
dilemma. W hat he can do contradicts all his previous actions, prin
ciples and immediate interests of his party, and what he ought to
do cannot be done. In a word, he is compelled to represent not his
party or his class, but the class for whose domination the move
ment is then ripe. In the interests of the movement he is com
pelled to advance the interests of an alien class, and to feed
his own class with phrases and promises, and w ith tho assev
eration that the interests of that alien class are their own in
terests. Whoever is put into this awkward position is irrevocably
lost. 218
Hence it follows that Mr. Tikhomirov is greatly mistaken
when he imagines that the seizure of power by the revolution
aries would be the starting-point of the revolution. Q uite the
contrary: such a seizure" would be a signal for reaction. It would
not consolidate the influence of the countrys progressive forces,
but, having exhausted them in the first sterile effort, it would
guarantee the trium ph of the conservative and reactionary par
ties. Not only would the Russian revolution diverge from the
example of the French Revolution which our Jacobins treasure
and which is the only comprehensible one for them, but in its
development it would be the exact opposite of that revolution.
Whereas up to a certain time every new wave of the French Revo
lution brought on to the arena of history a more extreme party,
our home-reared Jacobins would reduce to n il the corresponding
period of the Russian revolution. Shattered and discredited,
they would withdraw from the stage uuder a hail of hostile accu
sations and mockery, and the unorganised and disunited masses
of the people, having no leaders, would be unable to overcome
the systematic resistance of their enemies. A t the very best the
popular revolt would end in the overthrow of the remnants of
the old regime w ithout bringing the working class the reforms
which most directly and im m ediately affect their interests.
As Marx notes, all facts of great importance in world history
occur, as it were, twice: the first time as tragedy, the second
as farce. 218 The history of the French Jacobins is a majestic trag
edy, full of burning interest. But the history of the conspira
torial plans of the modern Blanquists (Russian and foreign)
despite the heroism of individuals remains a farce whose tragicomicality lies in the complete in ab ility of the cast to under
stand the meaning and character of the impending workingclass revolution.
|Italics by Plekhanov*]
Chapter
T RU E T A SK S OF THE SOCIALISTS IN RU SSIA

1. SOCIAL-DEMOCRATS AND MAN-HANDLING
And so, Russian socialism as expressed in the Narodnaya

Volya party , w ill be alien to the great tasks of European social
ism u n til it abandons for ever its intermediary position between
Bakunins anarchism and Tkachovs Blanquism , i.e., until it
acknowledges the barrenness of Mr. Tikhom irovs theoretical
constructions.
But as these constructions are the last desperate attempt to
revive our revolutionary theories of the good old times, our
socialism, by raising itself to the height of such an acknowledge
ment, w ill cease to be Russian and w ill merge with world
socialism as expressed in the works of Marx and Engels and
partly in those of Lassalle.
Its supporters w ill then understand that:
1. The communist revolution of the working class cannot in
any way grow out of the petty-bourgeois peasant socialism pro
fessed at present by nearly all our revolutionaries.
2. By the inherent character of its organisation the rural
commune tends first and foremost to give place to bourgeois,
not communist, forms of social life.
3. In the transition to the latter its role w ill be not active,
but passive; it is not in a position to advance Russia on the road
to communism; it can only offer less resistance to that advance
than small individual landownership.
4. The initiative in the communist movement can bo assumed
only by the working class in our industrial centres, the class.
5. Whose emancipation can be achieved only by its own con
scious efforts.
Once they have understood these simple truths, the Russian
socialists from the privileged sections w ill put aside all thoughts
of seizing power, leaving that to our workers socialist party o!
the future. Then their efforts w ill be directed only towards the
creation of such a party and the removal of a ll coriditions which
are unfavourable to its growth and development.
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
331
Needless to say, such activity cannot have anything in com

mon with that uniting of the working class by means of depriving
them of land, fining and man-handling them which Mr. Tikhom i
rov speaks of as tho outcome the only possible one at present
for the Russian Social-Democrats.220 This fiction alone would
be enough to perpetuate our authors name in literature if only
it were not distinguished, like all his arguments, by its complete
lack of originality. In this case our author only repeated what
was said and printed long ago by our Narodniks, legal and illegal.
Kven fiction writers of the would-be-peasant trend have given
Marxists the role of myrmidons of capitalism in their writings.
Two years ago Mr. Ertel published in Vestnik Yevropy a tale
culled "The Young Lady of Volkonsk . 221 In this amusing story
we see a liberal landowner, an enlightened bourgeois, a Narodnik
who spends part of his time collecting songs and part making
love to the heroine, and finally a Marxist who has dedicated
his energies to improving agriculture on the liberal landlords
estate. True. Ertel's Marxist does not like fining and man-handling
but he waxes enthusiastic over the mere thought of the landlord
acquiring a new kind of machine, not to mention a works or
factory, fie has become so imbued with the interests of capi
talism that he hastens to contract a close and fraternal alliance
with the enlightened bourgeois already referred to as soon as
the latter pays a visit to his protector. Such a programme
has indeed nothing attractive about it, but that is the fault
neither of Marxism in general nor of the above-mentioned Marxist
in particular. lie could only imagine the kind of programme
Mr. Ertel thought fit to bestow on him . It has long been noted
that the fruit does not fall far from the tree and that the heroes
of fiction are no more ingenious than their authors. To corro
borate that old truth we could cite the new proof that Ertels
Narodnik himself says a lot of completely incoherent things;
for instance, in a conversation with the Marxist he assures him
thal Marx has been dealt tho final blow by the publication
of some new articles in Russian journals (not Mr. V. V .s articles
in Otechestvenniye Zapiskil2Z2). If the reader takes this truth
into consideration and exonerates the Marxist , he w ill have
to be all the more condescendent towards Marxism itself, whose
crime consists only in the representatives of Russian exception
alism not being able to understand and assess it.
If any attention at all is given to this question it is obvious
that the Social-Democrats, far from being ever or anywhere
capable of allying with the bourgeoisie in enslaving the workers,
are, on the contrary, the only ones who can organise serious
resistance to capitalist exploitation. To make this palpable let
us resort once more to a practical example. Let us remember
332
G. PLEK H A N O V
the contemporary condition of the handicraft weavers and see what

attitude the various socialist groups may and must adopt to them.
I t is useless to say much about the anarchists. They would
recommend propaganda by action to the handicraftsmen and
would advise them to blow up some inn or to m aim some manu
facturer. No systematic mode of action can be indicated by
a programme whose m ain feature is the negation of logical order
and system of any kind. The most interesting for us are the Blan
quists. In France, B lanq u is native country, his followers have
a systematic mode of action only insofar as their programme
loses all its distinctive features and merges w ith that of the
workers' party , as we see in the electoral campaigns, the pro
paganda of the class struggle, etc., etc. But whenever the Blan
quists preserve intact their particular im print their mode of
action becomes deprived of any kind of guiding thread and is
reduced to the formula: Lets make a noise, brothers, lets make
a noise! 223 Today they agitate for the presentation of a revolver
to Brzozowski224 as a mark of honour, tomorrow they w ill demand
the abolition of the standing army and the day after they will
get excited over a Chapel of Atonement, and so on. Of course,
such noisy activity is out of the question for B lanquis Russian
followers, i.e., for open or secret supporters of Nabat. The Blan
quists propaganda in Russia is necessarily reduced mainly to
terror and their organisational work to setting up secret con
spiratorial societies. The question is: W h at role in this can the
handicraftsman play as such, i.e., w ithout getting lost among
the intelligentsia, but remaining in his craft and maintaining
all the relations to capital which history has imposed on him?
Only isolated individuals can take part in the terrorist struggle.
Now it is not the time to invite the handicraftsmen to unite
in a single workers' party, for the worker capable of class dicta
torship hardly exists; hence he cannot be given political power",
etc. A ll the weavers can do is to place their hopes in the future
and support the revolutionary party in its striving to seize power
in the hope that the result of that seizure w ill be the founda
tion of the socialist organisation of Russia.
The master w ill come
A nd settle our quarrel.m
But the master may be late in coming or may not come at all;
he may be deported as soon as he arrives and have no time to lay
the famous foundation. W hat immediate practical profit will
the revolutionary movement then bring the handicraftsmen?
W ill it make their own condition clear to them? W ill it teach
them to defend their own interests by union and organisation?
No, it w ill not! And if it does it w ill only do so accidentally and
333
incidentally, since the main efforts of the Blanquists are by no

means directed at socialist propaganda among the workers. We
have already seen that Tikhom irovs revolution hopes to rally the
forces of the people round points whose explanation needs no
special propaganda. And yet special propaganda is the very
thing that is needed for the handicraftsmens serious and success
ful struggle against their exploiters. From this it follows that in
spite of all their desire to take the people as they are the Russian
Blanquists are bound to ignore a whole series of the peoples prac
tical needs and requirements.
What, then, w ill be the position adopted towards the handicrafts
men by the Russian Social-Democrat, who has so often and so insis
tently been accused of fantasy and of being unpractical? Knowing that
the emancipation of the workers must be conquered by the workers
themselves and that the degree of capitalist exploitation is deter
mined, among other things, by the level of the requirements and
development of the exploited, he will endeavour to rouse the work
ers to independent struggle against capital. As the scattered eSorts
of the workers in individual factories and workshops cannot guar
antee tho success of such a struggle, he w ill have to give it a class
character. For that he w ill have to conduct with great energy and
perseverance that special propaganda which is called the pro
paganda of socialism. But we already know that every class strug
gle is a political struggle. Therefore, our Social-Democrats propa
ganda must immediately assume a social and political character.
He will say to the workers: A rise in the standard of your mate
rial prosperity is possible only w ith resolute intervention by the
state. It can and must help some of you, namely those who have
almost become full-fledged factory workers, first and foremost by
legislation to protect the interests of the working men, women
and children; those among you whose independent small produc
tion is still struggling against capitalism can stabilise their posi
tion only by means of state credit to workers associations. But not
every state w ill assume the role of your ally. The state w ill be
wholly and entirely on your side only if it is wholly and entirely
yours, a workers state. That is the aim at which you must direct
all your efforts. And as long as it is not attained you must force
even a state which is hostile to you to make concessions to you.
And in so doing, do not forget that the more resolute you are in
demands and the stronger your party, the more decisive those
concessions w ill be. So set up such a party, unite in a single, for
midable, disciplined force. W hen you have succeeded in winning
Ihe final victory you w ill throw off completely the yoke of capital,
hut until then you w ill at least hold it in check to some extent,
you will at least safeguard yourselves and your children against
physical, moral and intellectual degeneration. You have only two
334
G. PLEK H A N O V
ways out of your present condition: either struggle or complete

subjection to capital. 1 call to my side those who wish to struggle!
W hat do you thin k , reader? W ill such activity be the most prac
tical of all that are possible? You will say that its success will bt^
too slow and unsure. We grant that. But other forms of activity
hold out still less certainty of success. Neither anarchist propa
ganda by action nor Blanquist conspiracies w ill advance the class
struggle a single step in Russia, and it is on the course of that strug
gle that the emancipation of the workers depends.
The Social-Democrat, of course, w ill do only what he can; but
the advantage of his position is that he can do much more for lhe
working class than any other socialist-revolutionary. He will
bring consciousness into the working class, and without that it is]
impossible to begin a serious struggle against capital. And once ho
brings that consciousness he w ill give the revolutionary move
ment a strength, endurance and intensity that cannot even be
dreamed of if one adheres to lhe old programmes.
And note that our Social-Democrat has no need at all to fuss
about (a typically Russian expression!) over the creation of the
class in whose name he wishes to act. O nly somebody who is com
pletely ignorant of the economic relations in Russia today can"
be in the dark as to the indisputable fact that that class is partly
already created and partly being created w ith increasing speed by
the implacable course of social development;. O nly somebody who
dops not at all understand the historical role of all-levelling capi
tal can compare the condition of our working class with the more
or less exceptional position of our gentry . 228 The French Anglo-'
maniacs at the end of the last century and the begiuning of this
failed in transplanting into their country England's aristocratic
institutions; but the French workers party can, without in tin*
least falling into utopianism, adhere to the same programme as
the British Democratic Federation. Whence this difference? It is
a secret which, by the way, Mr. Tikhomirov himself will discover
if only he reads attentively the Manifesto of the Communist Party.
Recommending to him this wonderful work, we for our part shall
say a few words more about the tasks of the socialists of that trend,
which considers Russian capitalism a historical inevitability and
to which we ourselves belong.
The most usual argument against that trend an argument
which comes from the heart if not from reason is the referencel
to the im possibility of tho revolutionary movement developing'
rapidly in Russia if its chances depend on the strength and growth
of the Russian working class. This consideration gives rise, on the
one hand, to the inclination towards exceptionalist programmes,
and, on the other, to the fear that we have already mentioned of
the revolutionaries themselves having, perhaps, to enter the service
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
335
of Russian capital. This argument, of course, will not be long in

being brought to bear against our reasoning.
That is why we do not think it superfluous to draw our readers
attention to tho strange inconsistency of those from whom we hear
objections sim ilar to the one just quoted. That inconsistency is a
palpable indication that many of the so-called pupils of Cherny
shevsky have mastered only the results of his study and have not
formed the slightest idea of his method.
When it is a question of the probable destiny of Russian capital
ism or of its influence on our political relations, the Narodniks
generally begin by pointing out the supposedly indisputable fact
that our capitalism is in the same stage of development as was thal
"in Western Europe more than a century ago. From this it is con
cluded that a whole century must elapse before capitalism renders
our history the same service as it rendered the history of the
West. That is a long time, and as our intelligentsia have long
been in the habit of substituting their revolutionary w ill for revo
lutionary development, they look to the village commune and refer
to the possibility proved by Chernyshevsky of its immediate transi
tion to a socialist form of communal life. Thus they invoke the
probability of the complete omission of one phase in social develop
ment largely because they do not understand the possibility of
lhat phase being shortened. It does not even occur to them that the
complete omission of a particular historical period is but a partic
ular case of its shortening, and that by proving the possibility
of the former we at the same time, and to a larger extent, affirm
the probability of the latter.
We have already seen above from the example <>f P. N. Tka
chov that this gross error in logic underlay our Blanquists' pro
gramme. Unfortunately not only the Blanquists repeat it.
Many people think that the social revolution can take place in
Itussia now, or in a very remote future, perhaps never in other
words on Ihe basis either of our present economic relations or of a
system whose institution and consolidation are a matter of Ihe
most hazy future. But we already know and this we learn from
the history of that same Western Europethat only Ihe first step
was difficult for capitalism and that its uninterrupted advance
from West to East is taking place with constantly increasing
acceleration. Not only the development of capitalism in Russia
cannot be as slow as it was in England, for example, its very ex
istence cannot be so lasting as it has been fated to be in the West
European countries". Our capitalism w ill fade before it has time
to blossom completely a guarantee for which we find in the power
ful influence of international relations. But neither is it possible
lo doubt that the course of affairs is advancing to its more or less
complete victory. Neither unsubstantiated denials of an already
336
G. PLEK HAN OV
existing fact nor grieved exclamations about the disintegration

of the old, traditional forms of the peoples communal life
nothing w ill stop the advance of a country which has entered the
road of the natural law of its development, b u t this development
w ill be more or less slow, the birth-pangs w ill be more or less pain
ful, depending on the combination of all the social and internation
al relations of the country in question. The more or less favourable
character of that combination for the working class depends, in
turn, on the conduct of those who have understood the meaning
of the evolution which awaits their country. Capitalism developed
in Germany at a time when the working class there was more highly
developed than in England or France, and that is why the rebuff
given to capitalist exploitation in that country was swifter and
more resolute. The German Communists did not even think of enter
ing the service of capitalism. They knew that the more or less early
victory of the working class depends, among other things, on the
influence that those who understand the meaning of historical
development have on that class. They actively set about the work
of propaganda among the workers and success exceeded their ex
pectations. W hy should we not follow their example?
The manufacturer is just as unthinkable w ithout the worker as
the master, according to Aristotle's remark, without the slave.
The development of the bourgeoisie presupposes the development
of the working class; the historical growth of capitalism is a twosided process, each side being the rallying point for the correspond
ing class in society. On the whole, each of these classes is chained
to its place more securely than V ulcans chains bound Prome
theus to the rock. In capitalist society the commodity dominates
the producer and prescribes his behaviour. B ut some individuals
have the possibility to make a conscious choice between the two
opposite poles. It is to these individuals that our so-called intel
lectuals belong. It w ill depend on their own moral and intellec
tual development what attitude they adopt to the cause of the work
ing class. No kind of sophism can provide any justification for
the socialist who deserts to the camp of the exploiters. And the
possible sophisms in this case are so wretched and impotent that
they cannot for a minute appear convincing to him who can cor
rectly construct even a single syllogism.
Only owing to the rectilinear and angular views typical of our
exceptionalists can there possibly be any talk about a logical ne
cessity of the socialists personal participation in the capitalist
development of a country. The exceptionalist is accustomed to
substituting his own w ill for historical development, he is used to
contenting himself w ith a dogmatic outlook instead of a critical
one. He judges as follows: capitalism is inevitable as a transitional
stage, hence there must be people who w ill create capitalist rela
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
337
tions. And yet I can no longer serve the knights of prim itive accu
mulation, 1 cannot plunder the worker with a clear conscience and
energy. What if there are many people like me? W hat if a ll are
imbued with iny views? Then there w ill be no capitalism, which
is necessary as a transitional stage, etc. Thus, the poor exceptionallst limls himself involved in a real vicious circle of premises fol
lowed by further concentric circles of conclusions. Is it not better to
renounce socialism for a time and apply one's energies to the
spreading and strengthening of capitalism, since capitalism is abso
lutely necessary? On what grounds, asks Mr. Tikhomirov, will
we soak the worker himself w ith socialist ideas which divert the
best forces of that class from striving towards the capitalist career
which nobody will carry out better than people from among the
workers themselves?2*7 We shall have time to return to socialism
when capitalism has fulfilled its historic mission, etc. The exceptionalist lives perpetually in a world of ready-made and sharply
defined facts and concepts, but he has not the slightest idea of the
process by which these facts and concepts came into existence. That
is why. dealing with each of them apart from the others, he com
pletely loses sight of their m utual connection and dependence.
Me proceeds from the assumption that it is impossible success
fully to spread socialist ideas w ithout the development of capital
ism. Hut in his desire to reduce his opponents views to the absurd
j i s quickly as possible he soon forgets this assumption and begins
In talk about the rapid spread of socialist ideas hindering t he devel
opment of capitalism. lie agrees to consider one phenomenon as
a consequence and another as a cause, but he fears lhat the con
sequence may appear sooner than the cause and thus prevent it
from manifesting its action, i.e., from giving rise to this very con
sequence. Thus, our exceptionalist falls into the very same pit
of absurdity that he so carefully dug for his opponents. A ll these
have to do then is to pull him out by means of the following very
simple argument.
ff the successful spread of socialist ideas among the popular
masses were thinkable, they w ill say, without the radical revolu
tion in relationships of life, revolution which capitalism gives rise
to, there would be no need for talk about any kind of transitional
phases in our social development. These phases have a meaning
for ns only for the very reason that they clear the ground for
socialist propaganda. It would, therefore, be ridiculous to fear
that our present propaganda w ill stop the development of capital
ism in our country. But, on the other hand, it would be absurd
to abandon that propaganda since its very possibility is an in d i
cation that history has already prepared a certain part of the ground
for it. The sooner we cultivate that part, the sooner our histor
ical development w ill be accomplished and the fewer sacrifices
r-i01329
336
G. P LEK H A N O V
existing fact nor grieved exclamations about the disintegration

of the old, traditional forms of the peoples communal life
nothing w ill stop the advance of a country which has entered the
road of the natural law of its development . But this development
w ill be more or less slow, the birtb-pangs w ill be more or less pain
fu l, depending on the combination of all the social and internation
al relations of the country in question. The more or less favourable
character of that combination for the working class depends, in
turn, on the conduct of those who have understood the meaning
of the evolution which awaits their country. Capitalism developed
in Germany at a time when the working class there was more highly
developed than in England or France, and that is why the rebuff
given to capitalist exploitation in that country was swifter and
more resolute. The German Communists did not even think of enter
ing the service of capitalism. They knew that the more or less early
victory of the working class depends, among other things, on the
influence that those who understand the meaning of historical
development have on that class. They actively set about the work
of propaganda among the workers and success exceeded their ex
pectations. W hy should we not follow their example?
The manufacturer is just as unthinkable w ithout the worker as
the master , according to Aristotles remark, without the slave.
The development of the bourgeoisie presupposes the development
of the working class; the historical growth of capitalism is a twosided process, each side being the rallying point for the correspond
ing class in society. On the whole, each of these classes is chained
to its place more securely than Vulcans chains bound Prome
theus to the rock. In capitalist society the commodity dominates
the producer and prescribes his behaviour. But some individuals
have the possibility to make a conscious choice between the two
opposite poles. It is to these individuals that our so-called intel
lectuals belong. It w ill depend on their own moral and intellec
tual development what attitude they adopt to the cause of the work
ing class. No kind of sophism can provide any justification for
the socialist who deserts to the camp of the exploiters. And the
possible sophisms in this case are so wretched and impotent that
they cannot for a minute appear convincing to him who can cor
rectly construct even a single syllogism.
Only owing to the rectilinear and angular views typical of our
exceptionalists can there possibly be any talk about a logical ne
cessity of the socialists personal participation in the capitalist
development of a country. The exceptionalist is accustomed to
substituting his own w ill for historical development, he is used to
contenting himself w ith a dogmatic outlook instead of a critical
one. He judges as follows: capitalism is inevitable as a transitional
stage, hence there must be people who w ill create capitalist rela
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
337
tions. And yet I can no longer serve the knights of prim itive accu
mulation, I cannot plunder the worker with a clear conscience and
energy. What if there are many people like me? W hat if a ll are
imbued with my views? Then there w ill be no capitalism, which
is necessary as a transitional stage, etc. Thus, the poor exceptional
ist i'mds himself involved in a real vicious circle of premises fol
lowed by further concentric circles of conclusions. Is it not better t o
"renounce socialism for a time and apply ones energies to the
spreading and strengthening of capitalism, since capitalism is abso
lutely necessary? On what grounds, asks Mr. Tikhomirov, w ill
we soak the worker himself w ith socialist ideas which divert the
best forces of that class from striving towards the capitalist career
which nobody w ill carry out better than people from among the
workers themselves?227 We shall have time to return to socialism
when capitalism has fulfilled its historic mission, etc. The excep
tionalist lives perpetually in a world of ready-made and sharply
defined facts and concepts, but he has not the slightest idea of the
process by which these facts and concepts came into existence. That
is why. dealing with each of them apart from the others, he com
pletely loses sight of their m utual connection and dependence.
lie proceeds from the assumption that it is impossible success
fully to spread socialist ideas without the development of capital
ism. Hut in his desire to reduce his opponents views to the absurd
as quickly as possible he soon forgets this assumption and begins
to talk about the rapid spread of socialist ideas hindering the devel
opment of capitalism. He agreos to consider one phenomenon as
a consequence and another as a cause, but he fears that the con
sequence may appear sooner than the cause and thus prevent it
from manifesting its action, i.e., from giving rise to this very con
sequence. Thus, our exceptionalist falls into the very same pit
of absurdity that he so carefully dug for his opponents. A ll these
have to do then is to pull him out by means of the following very
simple argument.
If the successful spread of socialist ideas among the popular
masses were thinkable, they w ill say, without the radical revolu
tion in relationships of life, revolution which capitalism gives rise
to, there would be no need for talk about any kind of transitional
phases in our social development. These phases have a meaning
for us only for the very reason that they clear the ground for
socialist propaganda. It would, therefore, be ridiculous to fear
that our present propaganda w ill stop the development of capital
ism in our country. But, on the other hand, it would be absurd
to abandon lhat propaganda since its very possibility is an in d i
cation that history has already prepared a certain part of the ground
for it. The sooner we cultivate that part, the sooner our histor
ical development will be accomplished and the fewer sacrifices
22-01329
33S
G. P LEK H A N O V
and efforts the road opening out before our people w ill cost them.
We do not wish to go against history, but neither do we wish to lag
even a single step behind. As Chernyshevsky puts it, we have no
pity for anything which has outlived its time, but we refuse to
delay, even for a m inute, a matter which already now appears
timely and possible. We undertake to spread our ideas, being able
to prove mathematically that every step Russia makes on the road
of social development brings closer tho time when those ideas will
trium ph and eases our subsequent work.
We differ from you inasmuch as, while the development of the
present economic relations is carrying you increasingly farther
away from your commune ideals, our communist ideals are coming
closer and closer to us thanks to that same development. You re
mind one of a man who wishes to go north and gets into a south
bound train; we, on the other hand, know where we are going and
board the train of history that takes us at full speed to our goal,
it is true lhat you are confused by the direction we have taken;
you think that a socialist may have no sympathy for the develop
ment of bourgeois modes of production. But the reason for that
is that your logic is too exceptionalist.
You imagine that a socialist, if he remains faithful to his ideals,
must everywhere and always hinder the development of capitalism.
In that case you are once again arguing in the most primitive man
ner: to hinder the development of capitalism, you say. means to
harm the interests of the employers; and as those interests are dia
metrically opposed to the workers everything which is detrimen
tal to capital w ill be profitable to labour. You do not even suspect
that capitalism is opposed not only to the following, but also to the
preceding link in the chain of historical development; that it fights
not only the revolutionary efforts of the proletariat, but the reac
tionary strivings of the nobility and the petty bourgeoisie too.
You burn w ith hatred for capitalism and are prepared to attack it
wherever possible. This zeal often makes you rejoice over those
defeats of capitalism which can be useful only to the reactionaries.
The programme of your Russian socialism coincides in that re
spect with the programme of the German social-conservatives"
and has no trace of progressive tendencies. In order to avoid such
miserable metamorphoses you must at last become imbued with
the dialectical view of history. You must at the same time support
capitalism in its struggle against reaction and be the implacable
enemy of the same capitalism in its fight against the working-class
revolution of the future. Only such a programme is worthy of a
party which considers itself to be the representative of the most
progressive strivings of its lime. To adopt this standpoint you need
again to abandon your position as a kind of intermediary between
the various classes and to merge w ith the workers.
OUR DIFFEREN CES
339
2. PROPAGANDA AMONG THE W O R K E R S
But is such a merger possible at present? Is propaganda among

the workers at all possible in the present political circumstances?
Impossibility is a particular case of difficulty. Hut there are
two forms of difficulty which occasionally become impossibility.
One type of difficulty depends on the personal qualities of the
agents, on the dominant character of their strivings, views and incli
nations. This type of difficulty is created by social surroundings
through the intermediary of individuals, and therefore its shades
are as varied as the qualities of individuals. What was difficult
for Goldenberg was easy for Zhelyabov; what is impossible for h
man of one type of character and convictions may appear necessary
and therefore possible, though perhaps difficult, for another with
different habits and views.228 The impossible is often not what is
in itself impossible, but what, in the opinion of a certain in d iv id
ual, brings profits which do not compensate for the efforts exert
ed. Bul the appraisal of the profits a given political matter brings
depends entirely on the agents view of the matter. Mr. V .V .,
being convinced that tho government itself w ill undertake the
organisation of national production which he thinks desirable,
will naturally consider superfluous the sacrifices and efforts which
propaganda among the workers w ill cost at present. Sim ilarly,
the conspirator who relies m ainly on some committee or other
will declare without great inner struggle thal propaganda is impos
sible among the workers, who, in his opinion, are important
for the revolution but are far from being the only representatives
of the revolution.229 This is by no means Ihe way the Social-Dem
ocrat speaks; he is convinced lhat it is not a case of the workers
being necessary for the revolution, but of the revolution being ne
cessary for Ihe workers. For him propaganda among the workers
will be the main aim of his efforts, and he will nol give it up u n til
he has tried all means at his disposal and exerted ail the efforts he
is capable of. And the more our revolutionary intelligentsia become*
imbued with truly socialist views, the more possible and the easier
work among Ihe workers w ill seem to them, for the simple reason
thal their desire for such work w ill be all the greater.
We do not wish and would not be able to deceive anybody. Every
body knows how many difficulties and persecutions await the pro
pagandist and popular agitator in our country today. But those*
difficulties must not be exaggerated. Every kind of revolutionary
work without exception is made very difficult in our country today
by persecution from the police, but that does not mean that the
white terror has achieved its aim , i.e., that il has rooted oul sedi
tion. Action calls for counteraction, persecution gives birth to
self-sacrifice, and no matter how energetic the reactionary steps
22*
340
G. PLEK H A N O V
taken by the government, the revolutionary w ill always be able

to evade them if only he devotes the necessary amount of energy
to that purpose. There was a time when the blowing up of the Win
ter Palace and the undermining in Malaya Sadovaya would have
seemed unpracticable and unfeasible to the revolutionaries themselvcs.*30 But people were found who did the impossible, carried
out the unfeasible. Can such persistence be unthinkable in other
spheres of revolutionary work? Are the spies that track down the
terrorists less skilful and numerous than those who guard our
working class against tho pseudo-science of socialism and commu
nism? Only he can affirm that who has made up his mind to avoid
any kind of work that is unpleasant for him .
As far as lhe qualities cf the working class itself are concerned,
they do not by any means justify the gloomy prophecies of our pes
simists. Properly speaking, hardly anybody has ever undertaken
propaganda among the workers in our country with any consisten
cy or system. And yet experience has shown that even the scattered
efforts of a few dozen men were sufficient to give a powerful impulse
to the revolutionary initiative of our working class. Let the read
er remember the Northern Union of Russian Workers, its SocialDemocratic programme and its organisation, which was very farflung for a secret society. This Union has disintegrated, but before
accusing the workers of that our intelligentsia should recall wheth
er they did much to support it .231 Yet it was quite possible and
not even so very difficult to support it. In their Letter to the Edi
tors of Zemlya i Volya" representatives of the Union even defined
the type of help that was desirable and indispensable for them.
They requested co-operation in setting up a secret print-shop for
the publication of their working-class paper. The intellectual"
society Zemlya i Volya considered it untim ely to fulfil that request.
The main efforts of our intellectual socialists were then aimed in
a completely different direction. The result of those efforts was
not support for the workers but intensification of the police perse
cutions whose victim s, among others, were the workers organisa
tions. Is it astonishing that, left to their own resources in a con
spiracy which they were by no means accustomed to, the Workers
Union broke up into small sections not linked by any unity of plan
or of action? But those small circles and groups of socialist workers
have still not ceased to exist in our industrial centres; all that is
needed to unite them again in one impressive whole is a little con
viction, energy and perseverance.
Needless to say the workers secret societies do not constitute
a workers party. In this sense, those who say that our programme
is meant far more for the future than for the present are quite right.
But what follows from that? Does it mean we need not set to work
immediately on its implementation? The exceptionalists who argue
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
341
in that way are again being caught in a vicious circle of conclu

sions. A widespread working-class movement presupposes at least
a temporary trium ph of free institutions in the country concerned,
even if those institutions are only partly free. But to secure such
institutions w ill in turn be impossible without political support
from the most progressive sections of the people. Where is the way
out? West European history broke this vicious circle by slow polit
ical education of the working class. But there is no lim it to our
revolutionaries fear of punctilious old woman historys slowness.
They want the revolution as soon as possible, cost what it may.
In view of this one can only wonder at them not remembering the
proverb: If you want to ride the sledge, pull it up the h ill a pro
verb whose political meaning amounts to the irrefutable proposi
tion that anyone who wishes to win freedom quickly must try to
interest the working class in the fight against absolutism. The de
velopment of the political consciousness of the working class is one
of the chief forms in the struggle against the principal enemy
which prevents any at all rational approach" to the question of
creating in out country a workers party on the West European
pattern. W hat, indeed, is the meaning of the assurances given by
historians that in such and such a historical period the bour
geoisieor, what comes to almost the same, societywas fighting
against absolutism in such and such a country? No more and no
less than that the bourgeoisie was inciting and leading the working
class to fight, or at least was counting on its support. U n til the
bourgeoisie were guaranteed that support they were cowardly,
because they were powerless. W hat did the republican bourgeoi
siedeservedly deprived of that support do against Napoleon
III? All that they could do was to choose between hopeless heroism
and hypocritical approval of the accomplished fact. When did
the revolutionary bourgeoisie show courage in 1830 and 1848?
When the working class was already getting the upper hand at the
barricades. Our society cannot count on such support from the
workers: it does not even know who the insurgent workers w ill
aim their blows at the defenders of absolute monarchy or the
supporters of political freedom. Hence its tim id ity and irreso
luteness, hence the leaden, hopeless gloom that has come over it
now. But if the state of affairs changes, if our society is guaran
teed the support from at least the city suburbs, you w ill see that
it knows what it wants and w ill be able to speak to the authori
ties in the language worthy of a citizen. Remember the Petersburg
>trikes in 1878-79. Reports about them were far from interesting to
the socialists alone. They became the event of the day and nearly
all the intelligentsia and thinking people in Petersburg showed
an interest in them.232 Now imagine that those strikes had exprosfd, besides the antagonism of interests between the employers
342
G. l LK KIIA N O V
and the workers of a given factory, the political discord which was
appearing between the Petersburg; working class and the absolute
monarchy. The way the police treated the strikers gave occasion
enough for such political discord lo be manifested. Imagine that
the workers at the Novaya Rumagopryadilnya M ill had demanded,
besides a wage rise for themselves, definite political rights for all
Russian citizens. The bourgeoisie would then have seen that they
had to consider the workers demands more seriously than before.
Resides this, all the liberal sections of the bourgeoisie, whose eco
nomic interests would not have been immediately and directly
threatened had the strikers been successful, would have felt that
their political demands were at last being provided with some solid
foundation and that support from the working class made the suc
cess of their struggle against absolutism far more probable. The
workers political movement would have inspired new hope in the
hearts of all supporters of political freedom. The Narodniks them
selves might have directed their attention to the new fighters from
among the workers and have ceased their barren and hopeless whim
pering over the destruction of the foundations they cherished so
much.*
The question is who, if not the revolutionary intelligentsia,
could promote the political development of the working class?
During the 1878-79 strikes even the self-reliant intelligentsia could
not. boast of clear political consciousness. That was why the strik
ers could not hear anything at all instructive from them about
the connection between the economic interests of the working class
and its political rights. Now, too, there is much confusion in the
heads of our revolutionary youth. R ut we are w illing to enter
tain the hope that confusion w ill at last give way to the theories
of modern scientific socialism and w ill cease to paralyse Ihe success
of our revolutionary movement. Once that fortunate time conies,
the workers groups, too, w ill not delay in adopting the correct
political stand point. Then the struggle against absolutism will
enter a new phase, the last; supported by the working masses,
the political demands of the progressive section of our society
will at last receive the satisfaction they have been waiting for so
long.
I lad the death of Alexander II been accompanied by vigorous
action of the workers in the principal cities of Russia, its results
would probably have been more decisive. Rut widespread agita
tion among the workers is unthinkable without the help of secret
societies previously set up in as large numbers as possible, which
*
(Note to the 1905 edition.1 The events of last year brilliantly confirm
what is said here: the proletariat aroused the political consciousness of
Russiau society.
OUR D IFFEREN CES
343
would prepare the workers minds and direct their movement.

U can, therefore, be said that w ithout serious work among the
workers, and consequently w ithout conscious support from the
secret workers' organisations, the terrorists most, daring feats
will never be anything more than b rillia n t sorties. The principal
enemy' w ill only be hit, not destroyed by them; that means that
the terrorist struggle w ill not achieve its aim , for its only aim must
be the complete aud merciless destruction of absolutism.
Thus, far from the political situation in Russia today compelling
us to renounce activity among the workers, it is only by means of
such activity that we can free ourselves from the intolerable yoke of
absolutism.
Let us now consider anot her aspect of the matter. The foregoing
exposition has once more confirmed for us the truth lhat the working
class is very important fur the revolution. But the socialist must
think lirst and foremost of m aking the revolution useful for the
working population of the country. Leaving the peasantry aside for
the lime being, we shall note that the more clearly the workingclass
see? the connection between its economic needs and its political
rights, the more prolit it w ill derive from its political struggle. In
the West European countries the proletariat often fought absolu
tism under the banner and the supreme leadership of the bourgeoisie.
Hence its intellectual and moral dependence on the leaders of liber
alism, its faith in the exceptional holiness of liberal mottoes and
its conviction in the in v io lability of the bourgeois system. In
Germany it took all Lassalle's energy and eloquence to do as much
as only to undermine the moral link of the workers with the pro
gressists. Our society has no such influence on the working class
and there is no need or use for the socialists to create it from scratch.
They must show the workers their own. working-class banner,
give them leaders from their own, working-class ranks; briefly,
they must make sure that not bourgeois society , but the workers
secret organisations gain dom inating influence over the workers
minds. This w ill considerably hasten the formation and growth
of the Russian workers socialist party, which w ill be able to win
itself a place of honour among the other parties after having, in
its infancy, promoted the fall of absolutism and the trium ph
of political freedom.
In order thus to contribute to the intellectual and political inde
pendence of lhe Russian working class, our revolutionaries need
not resort to any artificial measures or place themselves in any
false or ambiguous position. A ll they need is to become imbued
with the principles of modern Social-Democracy and, not con
fining themselves to political propaganda, constantly to impress
upon their listeners that the economical emancipation of the
working classes is ... the great end to which every political move
344
G. PLEK H A N O V
ment ought to he subordinate as a means1'.233 Once it has assimi

lated this thought, our working class w ill itself be capable of steer
ing between Scylla and Charybdis, between the political reaction
of state socialism and the economic quackery of the liberal bour
geoisie.
In prom oting the formation of the workers' party, our revolu
tionaries w ill be doing the most fruitful, the most important thing
that can be pointed to a progressive man in present-day Russia.
The workers party alone is capable of solving all the contradic
tions w hich now condemn our intelligentsia to theoretical and prac
tical impotence. We have already seen that the most obvious of
those contradictions is at present the necessity to overthrow abso
lutism and the impossibility of doing so without the support of
the people. Secret workers organisations will solve this contra
diction by drawing into the political struggle the most progressive
sections of the people. B ut that is not enough. Growing and strength
ening under the shelter of free institutions, the Russian workers
socialist party w ill solve another, not less important contradic
tion, this tim e of the economic character. We all know that the
village com m une of today must give place to communism or ulti
mately disintegrate. A t the same time, the economic organisation
of the commune has no springs to start it off on the road to com
munist development. W hile easing our peasants' transition to com
m unism , the commune cannot impart to them the initiative neces
sary for th a t transition. On the contrary, the development of commod
ity production is more and more undermining the traditional foun
dations of the commune principle. And our Narodnik intelligen
tsia cannot remove this basic contradiction in one fell swoop. Some
of the villag e communes are declining, disintegrating before their
eyes and becoming a scourge and a brake for the poorest of the
commune members. Unfortunate as this phenomenon may seem
to the intelligentsia, they can do absolutely nothing to help it at
present. There is absolutely no link whatever between the lovers
of the people and the people . The disintegrating commune is
still alone on its side, and the grieving intelligentsia are alone on
theirs, neither being able to put an end to this sad state of affairs.
How can a way out of this contradiction be found? W ill our intel
ligentsia indeed have to say Bah! to all practical work and con
sole themselves w ith utopias of the kind Mr. G. Uspensky likes?
Nothing of the sort! Our Narodniks can at least save a certain
number of village communes if only they will consent to appeal
to the dialectics of our social development. But such an appeal
is also possible only through the intermediary of a workers so
cialist party.
The disintegration of our village commune is an indisputable
fact. B ut the speed and intensity of the process differ according
OUR D IFFER EN C ES
345.
to localities in Russia. To halt it completely in places where the

commune is freshest and most stable, our Narodniks must use
the forces now being freed by the breaking up of communes in gu
bernias where industry is more developed. These forces are nothing
else than the forces of the rising proletariat. They, and they alone,
can be the link between the peasantry and the socialist in te lli
gentsia; they, and they alone, can bridge the historical abyss be
tween the people and the educated section of the population.
Through them and w ith their help socialist propaganda w ill at last
penetrate into every corner of the Russian countryside. Moreover,
if they are united and organised at the right time into a single
workers party, they can be the m ain bulwark of socialist agita
tion in favour of economic reforms which w ill protect the village
commune against general disintegration. And when the hour of
the final victory of the workers party over the upper sections of
society strikes, once more that party, and only that party, w ill
take the initiative in the socialist organisation of national produc
tion. Under the influence of and, if the case presents itself, under
pressure from that partythe village communes still existing w ill
in fact begin the transition lo a higher, communist form. Then the
advantages offered by communal land tenure will become not only
possible, but actual, and the Narodnik dreams of our peasantry's
exceptional development w ill come true, at least as far as a cer
tain portion of the peasantry is concerned.
Thus, the forces which are being freed by the disintegration of
the village commune in some places in Russia can safeguard it against
total disintegration in other places. A ll that is necessary is the abil
ity to make correct and timely use of those forces and to direct
them, i.e., to organise them as soon as possible into a SocialDemocratic party.
But, the champions of exceptionalism may object, the small
landowners w ill offer vigorous resistance to the socialist tendencies
of the workers parly. Most probably they w ill, but. on the other
hand, there w ill be somebody to light that resistance. The appear
ance of a class of small landowners is accompanied by the growth
in numbers and strength of the revolutionary proletariat, which
will at last impart life and movement to our clumsy state appara
tus. Resistance need not be feared where there is a historical force
capable of overcoming it; this is just as true as. on the other band,
a presumed absence of resistance is by rio means a fact to rejoice
at when the people are not capable of beginning the socialist
movement, when the heroic exertions of separate individuals are
shattered by the inertia of tho obscure and ignorant masses.
It must be borne in m ind, moreover, that Ibis workers party
will also be for us a vehicle of influence from the AYesl. The work
ingm an will not turn a deaf ear to the movement of the European
346
G. PLEK H A N O V
proletariat, as could easily be the case w ith the peasant. And the
united forces of the home and international movement w ill be more
than enough to defeat the reactionary strivings of the sm all land
owners.
So once more: The earliest possible formation of a workers' parly
is the only means of solving a ll the economic and political contradic
tions of present-day Russia. On that road success and victory lie
ahead; all other roads can leail only to defeat and impotence.
And what about terror? the Narodovoltsi w ill exclaim. And the
peasants? the Narodniks, 011 the other hand, w ill shout. Y o u are
prepared to be reconciled with the existing reaction for the sake of
your plans for a distant future, some w ill argue. You are sacrific
ing concrete interests for the victory of your doctrines like narrow
minded dogmatists, others w ill say horrified. But we ask ou r oppo
nents to be patient for a while and we shall try to answer at least
some of the reproaches showered on us.
First of all,w e by 110 means deny the important role of the terror
ist struggle in the present emancipation movement. I t has grown
naturally from the social and political conditions under which
we are placed, and it must just as naturally promote a change for
the better. But in itself so-called terror only destroys the forces
of the government and does little to further the conscious organi
sation of its opponents. The terrorist struggle does n o t widen
the sphere of our revolutionary movement; on the contrary, it re
duces it to heroic actions by small partisan groups. A fter a few
brilliant successes our revolutionary party has apparently weak
ened as a result of the great tension and cannot recover w ithout an
affluence of fresh forces from new sections of tho population. We
recommend it to turn to the working class as to the most revolution
ary of all classes in present-day society. Does that mean that we
advise it to suspend its active struggle against, the government?
Far from it. O 11 the contrary, we are pointing out a way of making
the struggle broader, more varied, and therefore more successful.
But it goes without saying that we cannot consider the cause of
the working-class movement from the standpoint of how important
the workers are for the revolution . We wish to make the very
victory of the revolution profitable to the working population of
our country, and that is why we consider it necessary to further
the intellectual development, the unity and organisation of tho
working population. By no means do we want the workers secret
organisations to he transformed into secret nurseries rearing terror
ists from among the workers. But we understand perfectly thal
the political emancipation of Russia coincides completely with
the interests of the working class, and that is why we th in k that
the revolutionary groups existing in that class must co-operate
in the political struggle of our intelligentsia by propaganda, agi-
347
tat ion. and occasionally open action in the street. It would be

unjust to leave all the hardships of the emancipation movement
to be home by the working class, but it is perfectly just and expe
dient to bring the workers, as well as others, into it.
There are other sections of the population for whom it would
be far more convenient to undertake the terrorist struggle against
the government. But outside the workers there is no section that
could at the decisive minute knock down and k ill off the political
monster already wounded by the terrorists. Propaganda among the
workers will not remove the necessity for terrorist struggle, but
it will provide it with opportunities which have so far never ex
isted.*
So much for the terrorists. Let us now speak to the Narodniks.
They are grieved at all programmes in which revolutionary work
among the peasants is not given the chief place. But although
such work is all that their own programme contains, the result is
that
The people's gains are still but small,
Their lifes not easier yet at a ll!
Since the late seventies, i.e., since the splitting of tho Zemlya
i Volya society, revolutionary work among tho peasants, far from
being extended, has become increasingly narrow. A t present it
would not be a great error to rate it at n il. And yet all this time
there has been no lack of people who assumed that the m ain stress
of our entire revolutionary movement should be immediately trans
ferred to the peasantry. Whence this contradiction? It would be
unjust to suspect the Narodniks of inactivity, cowardice or lack
of resolution. So one must think that they have set themselves a
task which they cannot carry out in the present circumstances,
that it is not with the peasantry that our intelligentsia must begin
its merger with the people. That is in fact what we think. But that
is far from meaning lhat we attribute no importance to revolution
ary work among the peasants. We note the fact and try to under
stand what it really means, convinced that once they have under
stood the true reasons for their failure the Narodniks w ill manage
to avoid repeating it. It seems to us that the formation of a work
ers party is what would free us from the contradiction as a result
of which iu Kussia Narodniks have been able to exist for the last
seven years only in a state of complete alienation from the people.
*
(Note to the 1905 edition.] On the basis ol this passage it was subse
quently said that the Emancipation of Labour group sympathised with
terrorism. Rut as long as it has existed that group has held that terrorism
is inconvenient for the workers; it was certainly useless at that time to pro
nounce against the terrorist activity of the intelligentsia who believed
in il os in a god.
348
G. P LEK H A N O V
How the workers party w ill do this can be seen from what has
been set forth above. But it w ill do no harm to say a few words
more on this subject.
To have influence on the numerous obscure masses one must
have a certain m inim um of forces w ithout which all efforts of sepa
rate individuals w ill never achieve any more than absolutely negli
gible results. Our revolutionary intelligentsia have not that mini
m um , and that is why their work among the peasants has left prac
tically no trace. We point out to them the industrial workers as
the intermediary force able to promote the intelligentsias merger
w ith the people. Does that mean that wo ignore the peasants?
By no means. On the contrary, it means that we are looking for
more effective means of influencing the peasantry.
Let us continue. Besides the definite m inim um of forces neces
sary to influence the sections in question, there must be a certain
com m unity of character between the sections themselves and the
people who appeal to them. But our revolutionary intelligentsia
has no com m unity w ith the peasantry either in its way of thinking
or its iitness for physical labour. In this respect, too, tho industrial
worker is an intermediary between the peasant and the student.
He must, therefore, be the link between them.
F in ally , one must not lose sight of s till another, far from negli
gible, circumstance. No matter what is said about the alleged ex
clusively agrarian character of present-day Russia, there is no
doubt that the countryside cannot attract a ll the forces of our re
volutionary intelligentsia. That is unthinkable if only because it is
in the town, not in the countryside, that the intelligentsia is recruit
ed, that it is in the town, not in the countryside, that the revolu
tionary seeks asylum when he is persecuted by the police, even if
it is for propaganda among the peasants. Our principal cities are,
therefore, the centres in which there is always a more or less con
siderable contingent of the intelligentsias revolutionary forces.
I t goes w ithout saying that the intelligentsia cannot avoid being
influenced by the town or liv in g its life. For some time this life
has assumed a political character. And we know that despite the
most extreme Narodnik programmes our intelligentsia have not
been able to hold out against the current and have found them
selves forced to take up the political struggle. As long as we have no
workers party, the revolutionaries of the town are compelled to
appeal to society , and therefore they are, in fact, its revolution
ary representatives. The people are relegated to the background
and thus not only is the establishment of a lin k between them and
the intelligentsia delayed, but even the link which formerly existed
between the intellectual revolutionaries of the town and those
of the countryside is severed. Hence the lack of m utual under
standing, the disagreements and differences. This would not be the
OUR DIF FEREN CES
349
case if the political struggle in the towns were m ainly of a workingclass character. Then the only difference between the revolution
aries of the town and those of the countryside would be in the place,
anil not the substance of their activity; both types of revolutionaries
would be representatives of the popular movement in its various
forms, and the socialists would not need to sacrifice their lives in
the interests of a society which is alien to their views.
Such harmony is not an unfeasible utopia. It is not difficult to
realise in practice. If at present it is impossible to find ten Narod
niks who have settled in the countryside because of their pro
gramme, because of their duty to the revolution, on the other hand,
there are quite a number of educated and sincere democrats who live
in the countryside because of their duty in the service of the state,
because of their profession. Many of these people do not sympathise
with our political struggle in its present form and at the same time
do not undertake systematic revolutionary work among the peasant
ry for the simple reason that they see no party w ith which they
could join efforts, and we know that a single man on a battlefield
is not a soldier. Begin a social and political movement among the
workers, and you w ill see that these rural democrats w ill little by
little come over to the standpoint of Social-Democracy and in
their turn w ill serve as a lin k between the town and the country
side.
Then our revolutionary forces w ill be distributed in the follow
ing very simple manner: those who are obliged by professional
duties to be in the countryside w ill'go thero. I t goes w ithout say
ing that there w ill be a fair number of them. A t the same tim e,
those who have the possibility of settling in towns or industrial
centres w ill direct their efforts at work among the working class
and endeavour to make it the vanguard of the Russian SocialDemocratic army.
Such is our programme. I t does not sacrifice the countryside to
tho interests of the town, does not ignore the peasants for the sake
of the industrial workers. I t sets itself the task of organising the
social-revolutionary forces of the town to draw the countryside into
the channel of the world-wide historic movement.
CONCLUSION
We now permit ourselves to say a few concluding words to the
reader.
In a ll that concerns the defence of our standpoint we should like
to appeal to his reason, not to his feelings. V alu in g exclusively the
interests of truth we shall succeed in reconciling ourselves to it,
even if it disagrees w ith the convictions which are dearest of all
to us. That is why we have only one request to the reader: let him
criticise our arguments w ith the attention that the revolutionary
questions we deal w ith deserve. W hether he approves or disap
proves of the solutions we offer, in any case, Russian revolution
ary thought w ill only gain from the new review of the results it
has achieved.
But there is another aspect of the matter, and it concerns not the
substance of our views but the form in which we chose to expound
them. W e or I should say / may be accused of excessive sever
ity , a hostile attitude to groups which have rendered no small
services to the cause of the revolution and, therefore, beyond doubt,
deserve respect.
Bachelors of science w ith whom 1 am already fam iliar may
even go further and accuse me of a hostile attitude to the Russian
revolution.
In all that concerns this question, I consider it w ill not be su
perfluous to appeal to the feelings of the reader that we call justice
and im p artiality .
Now, in the concluding chapter as in the beginning, in the Let
ter to P. L. Lavrov , I can repeat in all sincerity that my wishes
for Narodnaya Volya are not of failure but of further success. And
if I was severe towards the literary exercises of one of its repre
sentatives, there were enough reasons for that which have nothing
in common w ith hostility towards the revolution or any revolu
tionary group.*
*
|Note to the 1905 edition.] Here is another thing to be noted: I was
well aware that Mr. Tikhomirov was completely disappointed in the pro
gramme of Narodnaya Volya long before nis article W nat Can We Expect
from the Revolution? was published. That is why his defence of it was outra
geously hypocritical.
OUR DIFHKRENCKS
351
One must first of all bear in m ind that a revolutionary is not

the revolution and that theories of revolutionaries far from always
and not in all their parts deserve the name of revolutionary theories.
1 by no means deny the importance and usefulness of the revo
lutionary actions carried out by the Narodovoltsi; but I do not
interpret them in the same way as the official representatives of
the "party. I sec them in a light which irritates the eyes of Narodnaya Volya publicists. My view of the significance of these actions
was made sufficiently clear in the pamphlet Socialism and the
Political Struggle, where I said that Narodnaya Volya cannot
find a justification for itselfnor should it seek oneoutside
modern scientific socialism .
It pleased Mr. Tikhomirov to express another view 011 this
question, a view which lie thought more correct and more revo
lutionary.
Grieved by the fact that in certain sections of the socialists ...
the political democratic idea ... has taken forms which distort
its very substance", he decided to improve the matter and in the
Article W hat Can We Expect from the Revolution? he endeav
oured to adapt his party's activity to the theories of Bakunin and
Tkachov. Thanks to such a twist, the Narodnaya Volya party's
official theories ceased to be revolutionary and could be criticised
just as severely as all other phenomena of the now more and more
intensifying Russian literary reaction, w ithout any harm to the
revolution.
Reactionary theories in general are not attractive, but they are
not dangerous as long as they come forward under their own banner.
They become dangerous poison, real venom of the mind only when
they begin to disguise themselves under a revolutionary banner.
In such a case it is not. the one who tears the revolutionary mask
off them but the one who remains indifferent to the sight of inten
tional or unintentional literary forgery who is the opponent of
the revolution.
I am incapable of such indifference, and 1 do not try to display
it either. Hating reaction generally, 1 hale it all the more when it
attracts people over to it in the name of the revolution. Neither
can I confess to excessive severity towards Mr. Tikhomirov u n til
the following two propositions are proved:
1. That Mr. Tikhom irovs theories are not a new edition of the
teachings of Bakunin and Tkachov.
2. That these teachings cannot be acknowledged as reactionary
in comparison w ith K arl Marxs scientific socialism.
Let my opponents try to prove these two propositions and not
show any haste in accusing me of treason towards the Russian revo
lution. 1 myself w ill declare my severity out of place if their argu
ments are convincing.
352
G. PLEK HA N O V
But for that it is necessary, among other things, to base the argu
ment on the very propositions of Mr. Tikhomirov which served as
the occasion for my polemic w ith him . The general trend of Vestnik
Narodnoi Voli is so vague and ill-defined that the Bakuninist and
Tkachovian tendencies of the article W hat Can We Expect from
the Revolution? cannot prevent Marxist tendencies from being
manifest in articles by the other contributors, and perhapsunex
pected as this may bein new articles by Mr. Tikhomirov. There
is nothing impossible in the fact that our author w ill remember
the part of Vestnik's programme which lies on the other side of the
fatal but and w ill write a few eloquent pages on the only road
leading to the achievement of the general socialist aims. But
such a change of front w ill not weaken the reactionary tendency
of the article we have analysed; it w ill only prove that our author
has no definite views.
I
wish to remind those readers who are more im partial than M
Tikhomirov's defenders that one can sympathise from the bottom
of ones heart not only w ith the revolution in general, but also
with tho revolutionary Narodnaya Volya party in particular,
and at the same time think that that partys most urgent task,
the first and most necessary success, must be an unconditional break
with its present theories.
The supporters of Narodnaya Volya are wrong when they think
that to effect such a break would be to betray the memory of the
heroes of the Russian terrorist struggle. The most outstanding
terrorists began with a critical attitude to the then generally recog
nised programmes of revolutionaries. W hy then should people
who are following in their footsteps be unable to adopt a similar
critical attitude to the programmes of their time; why do they
think that Zhelyabovs critical thought should stop before Mr. Ti
khom irovs dogmatic outlook?
That is a question which the young members of our Narodnaya
Volya would do well to think over.*
*
|Note to the 1905 edition.] I have so far received no serious answer
my book. In the fifth issue of V estnik N arodnoi Voli there was, it is true,
a .short bibliographical note234 which said that to answer me would mean
first and foremost to speak of my personal character. Beyond this h in t, which
was obviously intended to be sp ite fu l, the editors of Vestnik said absolutely
nothing in defence of Mr. Tikhomirovs expectations from the revolution,
but some years later Mr. Tikhomirov himself stated that those expectations
were unrealistic and admitted that already at the time of his arrival abroad
he had considered his party as a corpse. That was an unexpected but very
significant conclusion to the whole of our argument. All that remained
for me was to sum up, which I did in the article Inevitable Change
published in the symposium Sozial-D em okrat, and in the pamphlet A Neu>
Champion of A utocracy, or M r. L . Tikhom irovs Grief, Geneva, 1889.255
PROGRAMME OF THE SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC

EMANCIPATION OF LABOUR GROUP
The Emancipation of Labour group sets itself the aim of spread

ing socialist ideas in Russia and working out the elements for
organising a Russian workers socialist party.
The essence of its outlook can be expressed in the following few
propositions:*
I. Theeconoimcemancipationof the workingclasswillbe achieved
only by the transfer to collective ownership by the working
people of all means and products of production and the organisa
tion of all the functions of social and economic life in accordance
with the requirements of society.
II. The modern development of technology in civilised societies
not only provides the material possibility for such an organisation
but makes it necessary and inevitable for solving the contradictions
which hinder the quiet and all-round development of those societies.
III. This radical economic revolution w ill entail most funda
mental changes in the entire constitution of social and internatio
nal relationships.
Eliminating the class struggle by destroying the classes them
selves; making the economic struggle of individuals impossible
and unnecessary by abolishing commodity production and the
competition connected w ith it; briefly, putting an end to the strug
gle for existence between individuals, classes and whole societies,
it renders unnecessary all those social organs which have devel
oped as tho weapons of that struggle during the many centuries it
has been proceeding.
Without falling into utopian fantasies about the social and
international organisation of the future, we can already now
foretell the abolition of the most important of the organs of chro
nic struggle inside society, namely, the state, as a political orga
nisation opposed to society and safeguarding m ainly the interests
of its ruling section. In exactly the same way we can already now
Note 1. We by no means regard the programme which we submit to the

judgement of the comrades as something finished and complete, not subject
In partial changes or additions. On the contrary, we are ready to introduce
into it any kind of corrections provided they do not contradict the basic
i concepts of scientific socialism and that they correspond to the practical
conclusions following from these concepts concerning the work of the socia
lists in Russia.
2.1-01329
354
G. P LEKHANOV
foresee the international character of the impending economi

revolution. The contemporary development of international
exchange of products necessitates the participation of all civi
lised societies in this revolution.
That is why the socialist parties in all countries acknowledge
the international character of the present-day working-class
movement and proclaim the principle of international solidarity
of producers.
The Emancipation of Labour group also acknowledges the
great principles of the former International Working M ens Asso
ciation and the identity of interests among the working people
of the whole civilised world.
IV.
Introducing consciousness where there now reigns blind
economic necessity, replacing the present mastery of the product
over the producer by that of tho producer over the product, the
socialist revolution simplifies all social relationships and gives
them a purpose, at the same time providing each citizen with
the real possibility of participating directly in tho discussion und
decision of all social matters.
This direct participation of citizens in the management of all
social matters presupposes the abolition of the modern system
of political representation and its replacement by direct popuhir
legislation.29*
In their present-day struggle, the socialists must bear in mind
this necessary political reform and aim at its realisation by all
means in their power.
This is all the more necessary as the political self-education
and the rule of the working class are a necessary preliminary
condition of its economic emancipation. O nly a completely
democratic state can carry out tho economic revolution which
conforms to the interests of the producers and demands their
intelligent participation in the organisation and regulation of
production.
At present the working class in the advanced countries is
becoming increasingly clear on the necessity of the social and
political revolution referred to and is organising into a special
labour party which is hostile to a ll parties of exploiters.
Being accomplished according to the principles of the Interna
tional Working Men's Association, this organisation, however,
lias m ainly in view the achievement by the workers of political
domination w ithin each of the respective states. The proletariat
of each country must, of course, first of all settle matters witb
its own bourgeoisie."
This introduces an element of variety into the programmes
of the socialist parties in the different states, compelling each
of them to conform to the social conditions in its country.
P RO GRA M M E
OF THE
SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC
GROUP
355
jt goes without saying that the practical tasks, and consequent

ly the programmes of the socialists, are bound to be more original
ond complicated in countries where capitalist production has not
vet become dominant and where the working masses are oppressed
under a double yokethat of rising capitalism and that
of obsolescent patriarchal economy.
In those countries, the socialists must at the same time organise
the workers for the struggle against the bourgeoisie and wage
war against the survivals of old pre-bourgeois social relationships,
which are harmful both to tho development of the working class
and to the welfare of the whole people.
That is precisely the position of the Russian socialists. The
working population of Russia is oppressed directly by the whole
burden of the enormous police-despotic state and at the same time
suffers all the miseries inherent in the epoch of capitalist accu
mulation and in places in our industrial centres it suffers
from the oppression of capitalist production which is not as yet
limited by any decisive intervention of the state or by the orga
nised resistance of the workers themselves. Present-day Russia is
suffering as Marx once said of the West European continent
not only from the development of capitalist production, but
also from insufficiency of that development.
One of the most harmful consequences of this backward state
of production was and s till is the underdevelopment of the middle
class, which, in our country, is incapable of taking the initiative
in the struggle against absolutism.
That is why the socialist intelligentsia has been obliged to
bead the present-day emancipation movement, whose immediate
task must be to set up free political institutions in our country,
the socialists on their side being under the obligation to provide
the working class w ith the possibility to take an active and fruit
ful part in the future political life of Russia .*37
The first means to achieve this aim must be agitation for a dem
ocratic constitution guaranteeing:
1. The right to vote and to be elected to the legislative Assem
bly as well as to the provincial and communal self-government
bodies for every citizen who has not been sentenced by court
to deprivation of political rights* for certain shameful activities
strictly specified by law.
2. A money payment fixed by law for the representatives of the
people, which w ill allow them to be elected from the poorest
classes of the population.
*
Note 2. Such actions may include, for example, bribing at elections,
outrageous repression of workers by employers, etc.
23*
356
G. P LEK HA NO V
3. Inv io lab ility of the person and home of citizens.

4. U nlim ited freedom of conscience, speech, the press, assembly
and association.
5. Freedom of movement and of employment.
6 . Complete equality of all citizens irrespective of religion
and racial origin.*
7. The replacement of the standing army by general arming
of t he people.
8 . A revision of all our civil and crim inal legislation, the
abolition of division according to estates and of punishments
incompatible with human dignity.
b u t this aim w ill not be achieved, the political initiative
of Ihe workers w ill be unthinkable, if the fall of absolutism
finds them completely unprepared and unorganised.
That is why the socialist intelligentsia has the obligation
to organise the workers and prepare them as far as possible for
tho struggle against the present-day system of government as
well as against the future bourgeois parties.
The intelligentsia must immediately set to work to organise
the workers in our industrial centres, as the foremost represen
tatives of the whole working population of Russia, in secret
groups with links between them and a definite social and politi
cal programme corresponding to the present-day needs of tho
entire class of producers in Russia and the basic tasks of socialism.
Understanding that the details of such a programme can be
worked out only in tho future and by the working class itself
when it is called on to participate in the political life of the
country and is united in its own party, the Emancipation of Labour
group presumes lhat the main points of tho economic section
of Ihe workers' programme must be the demands'.
1. Of a radical revision of our agrarian relations, i.e., the con
ditions for the redemption of the land and its allotment to peas
ant communes. Of the right to renounce allotments and leave
the commune for those peasants who find this convenient for
themselves, etc .238
2. Of the abolition of the present system of dues and the insti
tution of a progressive taxation system.
3. Of the legislative regulation of relations between workers
(in town and country) and employers, and the organisation of
the appropriate inspection with, representation of the workers.
*
Note 3. T his point is logically included in 4, which requires, among
other things, complete freedom of conscience; hilt wo consider it necessary
to set it in relief in view of the fact that there are in our country whole sections
of the population, for instance the Jews, who do not even enjoy the wretched
rights made available to other residents.
PROGRAMME
OF THE
SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC
GROUP
357
4.
Of slate assistance for production associations organised
n al' possible branches of agriculture, the mining and manu
facturing industries (by peasants, miners, factory and plant
workers, craftsmen, etc . ) - 239
The Emancipation of Labour group is convinced that not only
the success but even the mere possibility of such a purposeful
m o v e m e n t of the Russian working class depends in a large degree
upon the work referred to above being done by the intelligentsia
among the working class.
Rut the group assumes that the intelligentsia themselves must
as a preliminary step adopt the standpoint of modern scientific
socialism , adhering to the Narodnaya Volya traditions only
inasm uch as they are not opposed to its principles.
In view of this, the Em ancipation of Labour group sets itself
the aim of spreading modern socialism in Russia and preparing
the working class for a conscious social and political movement;
to 1 li is aim it devotes all its energies, calling upon our revolution
ary youth for help and collaboration.
Pursuing this aim by all means in its power, the Emancipation
of Labour group at the same time recognises the necessity lor
terrorist struggle against the absolute government240 and differs
from the Narodnaya Volya party only on lhe question of the
so-called seizure of power by the revolutionary party and of the
tasks of the immediate activity of the socialists among the working
class.
The Emancipation of Labour group does not in the least ignore
the peasantry, which constitutes an enormous portion of Russia's
working population. But it assumes that the work of the intelli
gentsia, especially under present-day conditions of the social
and political struggle, must be aimed first of all at the most devel
oped part of this population, which consists of the industrial
workers. Having secured the powerful support of this section,
the socialist intelligentsia w ill have far greater hope of success
in extending their action to the peasantry as well, especially
if they have by that time won freedom of agitation and propagan
da. Incidentally, it goes without saying that the distribution
of the forces of our socialists w ill have to be changed If an indepen
dent revolutionary movement becomes manifest among the peasantry,
anil that even at present people who are in direct touch with the
peasantry could, by their work among them, render an important
service to the socialist movement in Russia. The Emancipation
of Labour group, far from rejecting such people, w ill exert all
its efforts to agree with them on the basic propositions of I he
programme . 211
Genera, 1884
SECOND DRAFT PROGRAMME

OF THE RUSSIAN SOCIAL-DEMOCRATS
The Russian Social-Democrats, like the Social-Democrats

in other countries, aim at tho complete em ancipation of labour
from the yoke of capital. This emancipation can be achieved
by the transfer to social ownership of a ll the means and objects
of production, a transfer which w ill entail:
a) the abolition of the present commodity production (i.e.,
the purchase and sale of products on the market) and
b) its replacement by a new system of social production accord
ing to a previously drawn-up plan w ith a view to satisfying the
requirements both of society as a whole and of each one of its
members w ithin the lim its permitted by the condition of the
productive forces at the given time.
This communist revolution w ill give rise to the most radical
changes in the whole constitution of social and international
relationships.
Replacing the present mastery of the product over the producer
by that of the producer over the product, it w ill introduce con
sciousness where there now reigns blind economic necessity; by
sim plifying and giving purpose to all social relationships it will
at the same time provide each citizen w ith the real economic
possibility of participating directly in the discussion and deci
sion of all social matters.
This direct participation )of citizens in the management of
social affairs presupposes the abolition of the present system
of political representation and its replacement by direct popular
legislation.m
Moreover, the international character of the im pending econom
ic revolution may now already be foreseen. Given the present
development of international exchange, it is possible to consoli
date this revolution only by all or at least several of the civi
lised societies taking part in it. Hence follows the solidarity of
interests between producers of a ll countries, already recognised and
proclaimed
by
the
International
W orking
Mens Associa-
as tho emancipation of the workers must be the matter

0f the workers themselves, as the interests of labour in general
are diametrically opposed to the interests of the exploiters, and
therefore, tho higher classes w ill always hinder the above
described reorganisation of the social relationships, the necessary
preliminary condition for this reorganisation is the seizure of polit
ical power by the working class in each of the countries concerned.
Only this temporary dom ination of the working class can para
lyse the efforts of counter-revolution and put an end to the exis
tence of classes and their struggle.
This political task introduces an element of variety into the
programmes of the Social-Democrats in tho different states,
according to the social conditions in each of them in d iv id
uallyThe practical tasks, and consequently the programmes of the
Social-Democrats, are bound to be, naturally, more complicated
in countries where modern capitalist production is as yet only
striving to become dom inant and where the working masses are
oppressed by a double yoke lhat of rising capitalism and that
of obsolescent patriarchal economy. In such countries the SocialDemocrats must strive for such forms of social structure, as
transitional stages, as are already in existence in the advanced
countries and are necessary for the further development of the
working-class party. Russia is in precisely such a position. Capi
talism has achieved enormous success there since the abolition
of serfdom. The old system of natural economy is giving place
to commodity production and thereby opening up an enormous
home market for large-scale industry. The patriarchal, communal
forms of peasant land tenure are rapidly disintegrating, the vil
lage commune is being transformed into a mere means of enslav
ing tho peasant population to the state and in many localities
it is also an instrument for the exploitation of the poor by the
rich. At the same time, binding to the land the interests of an
enormous section of the producers, it hinders their intellectual
and political development by lim itin g their outlook to the narrow
bounds of village traditions. The Russian revolutionary move
ment, whose victory would be first and foremost profitable to the
peasants, finds among them hardly any support, sympathy or
understanding. The main bulwark of absolutism is precisely
the political indifference and intellectual backwardness of the
Peasantry. An inevitable consequence of this is the powerlessness
and tim id ity of those educated sections of the higher classes
whoso material, intellectual and moral interests are in contra
diction with the present political system. Raising their voice
300
G. PLEK HA NO V
in the name of the people, they are surprised to see the people,'
indifferent to their calls. Hence the instability of our intelli
gentsias political outlooks and occasionally their discouragement
and complete disappointm ent . 243
Such a state of affairs would be absolutely hopeless if thf*
movement of Russian economic relationships referred to had
not created new opportunities of success for those defending t|,e
interests of the working people. The disintegration of the village
commune is creating in our country a new class of industrial
proletariat. Being more receptive, mobile and developed, this
class responds to the call of the revolutionaries more easily than
the backward rural population. Whereas the ideal of the village
commune member lies in the past, under conditions of patriarchal
economy, tho political complement of which was tsarist autoc
racy, the lot of the industrial worker can be improved only
thanks to the development of the more modern and free forms
of communal life. In this class our people find themselves for the
first time under economic conditions which are common to all
civilised peoples and it is therefore only through the intermediary
of this class that the people can take part in the progressive
strivings of civilised hum anity. On these grounds the Russian
Social-Democrats consider as their first and principal obligation
the formation of a revolutionary workers' party. The growth and
development of such a party, however, w ill find a very powerful
obstacle in modern Russian absolutism.
That is why the struggle against absolutism is obligatory even
for those working-class groups which are now the embryo of the
future Russian Workers party. The overthrow of absolutism
must be the first of their political tasks.
The principal means for the political struggle of the workers'
groups against absolutism, in the opinion of the Russian SocialDemocrats. is agitation among tho working class and the further
spread of socialist ideas and revolutionary organisations among
that, class. Closely bound together in a single harmonic whole,
these organisations, not content with isolated clashes with the
government, w ill not delay in passing, at the convenient time,
to general and resolute attacks upon it and in this they will not
stop even at so-called acts of terrorism if that proves to be neces
sary in the interests of the struggle . 244
The aim of the struggle of the workers' party against absolutism
is to win a democratic constitution which shall guarantee:
1)
The right to vote and be elected to the Legislative Assem bl
as well as to the provincial and communal self-government bodiesfor every citizen who has not been sentenced by court to depriva
tion of his political rights for certain shameful activities strictly
specified by law.
SBC/>NP UHAFT P RO G R A M M E OF THE RUSS. SOCIAL-DEMOC.
3Gf
2) A money payment fixed by law for the representatives of

the people, which w ill allow them to be elected from tho poorest
classes of the population.
3 ) Universal, civil, free and compulsory education, tho state
being obliged to provide poor children with food, clothing and
school requisites.
4) Inv io lab ility of the person and home of citizens.
5) U nlim ited freedom of conscience, speech, the press, assem
bly and association.
6 ) Freedom of movement and of employment.
7) Complete equality of all citizens irrespective of religion
and racial origin.
8 ) The replacement of the standing army by general arming
of tho people.
9) A revision of all our civil and criminal legislation, the
abolition of division according to estates and of punishments
incompatible with human dignity.
Basing itself on these fundamental political demands, the
workers party puts forward248 a number of immediate economic
demands, such as:
1) Radical revision of our agrarian relations, i.e., the condi
tions for the redemption of land and its alloxtmcnt to peasant
communes. The right to renounce allotments and leave the village
communes for those peasants who find this convenient for them
selves, etc . 246
2 ) The abolition of the present system of dues and tho insti
tution of a progressive taxation system.
3) Legislative regulation of relations between workers (in town
and country) and employers, and the organisation of the appro
priate inspection with representation of the workers.2*7
4) State assistance for production associations organised in all
possible branches of agriculture, the m ining and manufacturing
industries (by peasants, miners, factory and plant workers,
craftsmen, etc . ) . 248
These demands are as favourable to the interests of the peas
ants as to those of the industrial workers; hence, aim ing at
their implementation, the workers parly w ill open for itself
a broad road for an approach lo the agrarian population. The
proletarian ejected from the countryside as an impoverished
member of the village commune w ill return there as a SocialDemocratic agitator. H is appearance in that role w ill change
he present hopeless fate of Ihe village commune. The disintegra
tion of the latter is unavoidable only as long as this very disin
tegration has not created a new popular force capable of putting
an end to the reign of capitalism. That force is the working class
and the poorest peasantry drawn in its wake.
362
G. P LEK HA NO V
Note. As is seen from above, the Russian Social-Democrats

presume that the work of the intelligentsia, particularly under
present-day conditions of social and political struggle, must be
aimed first at the most advanced part of the working population,
which consists of the industrial workers. H aving secured the
powerful support of this section, the Social-Democrats may have
far greater hope of success in extending their action to the peas
antry, especially when they have won freedom of agitation and
propaganda. Incidentally, it goes w ithout saying that even at
present, people who are in direct touch w ith the peasantry could,
by their work among them, render an im portant service to the
socialist movement in Russia. The Social-Democrats, far from
rejecting such people, w ill exert all their efforts to agree with
them on the basic principles and methods of their work . 249
A NEW CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY,

OR
Mr. L. TIKHOMIROVS GRIEF
(Reply to the Pamphlet:
Why 1 leased to be a Revolutionary
FROM THE AUTHOR

The present pamphlet is being published later than it should
have been. Illness prevented me from finishing it in time. A ll
the same I am publishing it because Mr. Tikhom irovs fall is
still a question of actuality for many readers.
Baugy, March 3, 1889
I
If Mr. Tikhomirov were noted for the same indiscriminate
love of fame as Herostratus, he would naturally bless the day
and the hour when it occurred to him to write the pamphlet:
Why I Ceased to be a Revolutionary. For that pamphlet made him
the centre of general attention. His fame, which even before
was not negligible, grew enormously. But Mr. Tikhomirov is
not one who can be satisfied w ith the fame of the insane Greek;
he tries to instruct, not to surprise, or if you like, he must surprise
his reader by the instructiveness of his story and the extraordina
ry m aturity of his political tendencies, those fully formed ideas
on social order and firm state authority which have long made
him notable among revolutionaries.* N aturally he does not
refuse to scourge himself for his former revolutionary errings.
Such a refusal is incompatible w ith the fully formed ritual
of setting the revolutionary on the road of truth. But Mr. Tikho
mirov is very skilful in the way he carries out the necessary cere
mony of self-flagellation. W hile making an appearance that he is
going to scourge himself, he, instead, manages to lash his former
comrades the revolutionaries in general and that revolutionary
groups which were able for a time to tie and prostrate even
such a remarkable man as he. Decency is fully observed but at
the same time the self-flagellation, far from inflicting pain on our
repentant author, is a pleasant exercise which gives him the
opportunity to show off before the public. Another vulgar viola
* Why I Ceased to be a Revolutionary, p. 11.
304
G. l LEKHANOV
tor of basic principles repents with the coarse sim plicity of a thor
oughly ill-bred man. In my rage, 1 frequently called the sacred
person of His Imperial Majesty a fool, said, for instance, one uf
the accused in the Petrashevsky affair. That is not altogether
elegant and by no means prudent. Does il please His Imperial
Majesty to hear such confessions? Is not the point to incline liirn
to clemency? Mr. Tikhomirov behaves differently. Not without
reason has he written a lot in his time: he knows how to use words.
He so cunningly composes his psalm of repentance that it is
at the same time a chanl of victory on Mr. Tikhomirov defeating
the revolutionary hydra and a hyinn of praise to Russian autoc
racy ... and also, by the way, to Mr. Tikhomirov himself. All
the moved and reconciled monarch can do is to fold the prodigal
son in his august embrace, press the once unruly head to his fat
breast and give orders for the fatted calf lo be killed for a solemn
celebration. Our brother the Russian is a rogue! Belinsky 2511
once exclaimed. lie should have said: Our brother the writer is
a rogue!
Seriously speaking, we do not know how fat the calf is that
is going to be slaughtered on the occasion of loyalty being aroused
in Mr. Tikhom irovs heart. But we can see that certain prepara
tions are being made for the celebration from the envy that has
seized the good sons of the Russian autocracy who have never
revolted against their tsar. This feeling was expressed in the
Russky Vestnik, 251 which obstinately refuses to be reconciled
w ith Mr. Tikhomirov and grumbles angrily at the Petersburg
departmental offices for their too lenient attitude lo the former
terrorist. So the compliments paid to Katkov have not done any
good! It must bo presumed that the Board of Trustees will
not delay in calling the editors of the paper in question to reason
by reminding them of the moral of the parable of the prodigal
son. But still the sorties of the Russky Vestnik w ill spoil the plea
sure of Mr. Tikhom irovs reconciliation with firm authority
Were it not for the Russky Vestnik, Mr. Tikhomirov would
consider himself the happiest of mortals. He is extremely satis
fied with himself and with his metamorphosis, lie invites Hie
hesitating and the irresolute to give il great attention, and, sure
beforehand of their enthusiastic approval, he presents them with
a whole collection of counsels containing wonderfully original
and sensible thoughts. lie tells them that they must learn to
think and not to be carried away by phrases, and so on. But l<?t
us imagine that we are among the hesitating and the irresolute
and let us give attention to the metamorphosis our author has
gone through. Its story is told in the pamphlet Why I Ceased
to be a Revolutionary.
A N EW CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
3C5
II
Here in Russia, and not here alone, Mr. Tikhomirov says,

the thought has become rooted that we live in some kind of period
of destruction , which, some people believe, w ill end with
a terrible upheaval, with torrents of blood, dynamite explosions,
and so on. After that, it is presumed, a creative period w ill begin.
This social conception is entirely erroneous, and as already noted,
it is merely a political reflection of the old ideas of Cuvier and the
school of sudden geological catastrophes. In actual fact, in real
life, destruction and creation go hand in hand, being even incon
ceivable without one another. The destruction of one phenomenon
originates, properly speaking, because in it, in its place, some
thing different is being created, and on the contrary, tho forma
tion of the new is nothing else than the destruction of
the old.*
The conception contained in these words is not distinguished
by particular clarity, but in any case the idea can be reduced
to two propositions:
1. Here in Russia, and not here alone , revolutionaries have
no idea of evolution, of the gradual change in the type of
phenomna , as Mr. Tikhomirov says elsewhere.
2. If they had an idea of evolution, of the gradual change
in the type of phenomena", they would not
imagine that
welive
in some kind of period of destruction".
Let us first see how things are in this respect not in Russia, i.e.,
in the West.
As everybody knows, there is now in progress in the West
a revolutionary movement of the working class, which aspires to
economic emancipation. The question is: have the theoretical
representatives of that movement, i.e., the socialists, succeeded
in conforming their revolutionary aspirations to any at all satisfac lory theory of social development?
Nobody who has the slightest idea of modern socialism can fail
to answer that question in the affirmative. A ll serious socialists
in Europe and America adhere to Marx's leaching, and who does
not know that his teaching is first, and foremost the doctrine of the
development of human society? Marx was an ardent defender
ol revolutionary activity . He sympathised profoundly with
every revolutionary movement directed against the existing
social and political order. One is not obliged against ones wish
to share such destructive sympathies, but naturally one is not
entitled to conclude from them that Marxs imagination was
* Why I Ceased to be a Revolutionary, p. 13.
366
G. P LEK HA N O V
fixed on forcible revolutions , that he ignored social evolution

slow, gradual development. Not only did Marx not forget evolu
tion, but he discovered many of its most im portant laws. It was
in his mind that the history of mankind was first organised into
a harmonic, non-fantastic picture. He was the first to show that
economic evolution leads to political revolutions. Thanks to him
the contemporary revolutionary movement was given a clearly
defined aim and a strictly formulated theoretical basis. But that
being the case, why does Mr. Tikhomirov imagine that by a few
incoherent phrases about social creation he can prove the incon
sistency of the revolutionary
strivings, existing here in
Russia, and not here alone? Is it not because he has not given
the trouble to understand the teaching of the modem so
cialists?
Mr. Tikhomirov now feels repugnance for sudden catastro
phes and forcible revolutions. When all is said and done that
is his own affair: he is not the first or the last. But he is wrong
in thinking that sudden catastrophes are impossible both in
nature and in human societies. First of all, the suddenness
of such catastrophes is a relative concept. W hat is sudden for
one person may not be sudden at all for another; eclipses of the
sun occur suddenly for the ignorant but by no means for the
astronomer. The same thing applies to revolutions: those political
catastrophes happen suddenly for the ignorant and the great
majority of self-satisfied philistines, but very often they are by
no means sudden for the man who understands the social phenom
ena surrounding him . Secondly, if Mr. Tikhomirov tried to con
sider nature and history from the standpoint of the theory he
now holds, a number of overwhelming surprises would await
him . He has fixed in bis mind that nature does not make any
leaps and that leaving the world of revolutionary fantasy and
coming to the firm ground of reality one may speak scientifically
only of slow change in the type of a given phenomenon , and
yet nature makes leaps without troubling herself about all those
philippics against suddenness . Mr. Tikhomirov knows full
well that "the old ideas of Cuvier are erroneous and that sudden
geological catastrophes arc no more than the imagination of scien
tists. Let us suppose he lives a carefree existence in the south
of France, without knowing of any trouble or danger. Then sud
denly there comes an earthquake like the one that occurred there
two years ago. The earth trembles, houses topple down, the ter
rified inhabitants I'lee in a word, there is a genuine "catastrophe',
which probably shows the incredible light-headedness of M other
Nature! Learning from bitter experience, Mr. Tikhomirov atten
tively checks all his geological concepts and comes to the con
clusion that slow changes in the type of phenomena (in this
A N E W CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY
307
cate in the condition of the earths crust) do not preclude revo

lutions , which, from h certain standpoint, may perhaps appear
sudden or forcible.*
Mr. Tikhomirov boils water which does not cease to be water,
and is not inclined to any suddenness as long as its temperature
increases from 32 to 212 degrees. But when it is heated to the
critical temperature oh, horrible thing !there is a sudden
catastrophe the water turns into steam as if its im agination
were fixed on forcible revolutions.
Mr. Tikhomirov cools the water and the same strange story
repeats itself. The temperature of the water changes gradually,
the water remains water. But when it is cooled down to 32 degrees,
the water turns into ice regardless of sudden revolution being
an erroneous conception.
Mr. Tikhomirov observes the development of some insect sub
ject to metamorphosis. The process of development of the chrysalis
goes on slowly, and for a time the chrysalis remains a chrysalis.
Our thinker rubs his hands with satisfaction, saying, everything
is going on as it should. Neither the social nor the anim al organism
experiences any kind of the sudden upheavals whose existence I
have had occasion to observe in the inorganic world. When it
rises to the creation of liv ing beings nature shows more steadiness.
But soon his joy gives place to disappointment. One fine day
the chrysalis accomplishes a forcible revolution and emerges
as a butterfly. Thus Mr. Tikhomirov is compelled to adm it
that even organic nature is not insured against sudden
changes".
It w ill be exactly the same, if Mr. Tikhomirov seriously gives
attention to his own evolution , he w ill certainly find in it
a similar sharp turn, or revolution . He w ill remember what
particular drop overfilled the cup of his impressions and changed him
from a more or less hesitating defender of the revolution into
its more or less sincere opponent.
Mr. Tikhomirov and 1 are doing exercises in addition. We takt*
the number five and like respectable people gradually add to it
one by one, making six, seven, eight.... Everything goes well
*
Because science has rejecte < Cuvier s geological doctrines it does not.
follow that it has proved the impossibility of geological catastrophes" or
revolutions generally. Scicnce could not prove that without contradicting
generally known phenomena such as the eruption of volcanoes, earthaunkes,
'(- The task of science was tn explain those phenomena as lhe product of
lie accumulated action of those natural forces whose slow influence we can
observe on a small scale al any given time. In other words, geology had to
^'xplain the revolutions that affect the earth's crust basing itself on the evoluion of that crust. Social science had a similar task to deal with and with
M<gel and Marx as its spokesmen it has had success similar to that of geology.
365
G. P LEKHANOV
up to nine. But as soon as we want to add another unit a disaster

occurs: our units
Suddenly, without any plausible reason
are changed into a ten. The same unfortunate thing happens to
us when we pass from tens to a hundred.
Mr. Tikhomirov and I will not deal with music: there we have
too many sudden transitions and this might put all our concep
tions out of joint.
To all Mr. Tikhomirov's confused arguments about forcible
revolutions contemporary revolutionaries can successfully an
swer by asking the simple question: W hat w ill you do about those
upheavals which have already occurred in our actual life and
which, in any case, represent periods of destruction? Must we
declare them nuls et non avenus or regard them as tho works
of vain and foolish people whose behaviour is not worth the
attention of a serious sociologist? However you regard those phe
nomena, you must adm it that there have been violent revolutions
and political catastrophes in history. W hy does Mr. Tikhomi
rov think that to adm it such phenomena in the future is to have
erroneous social conceptions?
^H isto ry makes no leaps! That is perfectly true. On the other
hand, it is equally true that history has made a great number
of leaps and accomplished a mass of violent revolutions.
There are countless instances of such revolutions. W hat does
this contradiction mean? Only that the first of these propositions
has not been quite correctly formulated and that is why it is
often misunderstood. We ought to have said that history does
not make leaps which have not been prepared. No leap can occur
without a sufficient reason, which is to be found in the previous
course of social development. B ut as this development never
stops in societies which are progressing, we may say that history
is constantly engaged in preparing leaps and revolutions. It does
so assiduously and unflinchingly; it works slowly, but the results
of its work (leaps and political catastrophes) are inevitable and
unavoidable.
The change in the type of the French bourgeoisie takes place
slowly.The burgher during the Regency is not the burgher of the
time of Louis X I , but generally speaking, they both conform
to the type of the old regime bourgeois, lie has become richer,
more educated, more exacting, but he has not ceased to be a roturier, obliged always and everywhere to give way to the aristoc
racy. But then comes 1789 and the bourgeois raises his head
proudly. A few years more and he becomes the master. But how?
W ith torrents of blood , to the rolling of drums, and explossions of gunpowder , if not of dynamite which has not yet been
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
360
invented. He forces France to undergo a genuine period of

destruction regardless of the fact that in days to come some
p e d a n t might proclaim that violent revolutions are an erroneous
conception.
The change in type of Russian social relationships is slow.
The separate principalities disappear, the boyars finally subm it
to the authority of the tsar and become ordinary members of the
class serving the state. Moscow subjugates the Tatar khanates,
acquires Siberia, incorporates half of southern Russia, and still
it remains the old Asiatic Moscow. Peter appears and effects
a forcible revolution in the life of Russia as a state. A new period
of Russian history, the European period, begins. The Slavophilescalled Peter the Antichrist because of the suddenness of the
revolution which he carried out. They said that in his eagerness
for reform lie forgot evolution, the slow change in the type
of the social system. But anybody who can think, w ill easily
realise that Peters revolution was necessitated by the historical
evolution which Russia had undergone, and by which it had
been prepared.
Quantitative changes, gradually accumulating, become, in the
end, qualitative changes. These transitions occur by leaps and cannot
occur in any other manner. Gradualists in politics, of all colours
and shades, the Molchalins , 262 who make moderation and meti
culous order a dogma, cannot understand this, although it was
explained long ago by German philosophy. Here, as on many
other occasions, it is useful to remember the view held by Hegel,
whom, of course, it would be difficult to accuse of partiality for
revolutionary activity". He wrote: The ordinary notion of the
appearance or disappearance of anything is the notion of a gradual
appearance and disappearance. Nevertheless, there are transfor
mations of being which are not only changes from one quantity
to another, but also changes from the qualitative to the quantita
tive and vice versa; such a transformation is an interruption
of *gradual becoming' and gives rise to a kind of being qua lita
tively different from the preceding. Underlying the theory of grad'alness is the idea that that which makes its appearance already
exists effectively, and only remains imperceptible because it is
so very small. In the like manner, when we speak of the gradual
disappearance of a phenomenon, we imagine to ourselves that
his disappearance is an accomplished fact and lhat the phe
nomenon which takes the place of the extant one already exists,
but that neither tho one nor the other is as yet perceptible....
In this way. however, we are really suppressing all appearance
f,nd all disappearance__ To explain the appearance or the disap
pearance of a given phenomenon by the gradualness of the trans
formation is absurdly tautological, for it implies that we consider
^- 01329
370
G. P LEK H A N O V
as having already appeared or disappeared that which is actually

in the course of appearing or disappearing.* This means thHt
if you need to explain the origin of the state, you simply imagine
a microscopic organisation of the state which, gradually chang
ing in size, finally makes the inhabitants aware of its existence.
In the same way, if you need to explain the disappearance of tho
prim itive clan relations, you endeavour to imagine a small nonbeing of these relationships and that is all there is to it. It goes
w ithout saying that such methods of thinking w ill not get you
far in science. One of Hegels greatest merits was that he purged
the doctrine of development of sim ilar absurdities. But what does
Mr. Tikhomirov care about Hegel and his merits! Mr. Tikhomi
rov has the fixed idea that Western theories are not applicable
to Russia.
Contrary to our authors opinion on forcible revolutions and
political catastrophes, we w ill confidently say that at the present
moment history is preparing in the advanced countries a revolu
tionary change of extreme importance, which there is every
reason to assume w ill be accomplished by force. It w ill consist,
in changing the mode in which products are distributed. Econom
ic evolution has created gigantic productive forces whose prac
tical application requires a very definite organisation of produc
tion. They are applicable only in large industrial establishments
founded on collective labour, on social production.
But the individual appropriation of the products, which grew
up under quite different economic conditions in the epoch of
flourishing small-scale industry and small-scale cultivation
of the soil, is in flagrant contradiction to this social mode of
production. The products of the social labour of the workers
thus become the private property of the employers. It is this
basic economic contradiction which determines all the other
social and political contradictions observed in modern society.
And this basic contradiction is becoming more and more flagrant.
The employers cannot dispense w ith the social organisation
of production, for it is the source of their wealth. On the contrary,
competition forces them to extend the social organisation to other
branches of industry where it did not exist before. The big indus
trial enterprises drive out the small producers thus increasing
the number, and consequently the power, of the working class.
The fatal denouement is at hand. To remove the contradiction
between the mode of production, on the one hand, and the mode
in which the products are distributed, on the other, a contradic
tion which is harm ful to the workers, these must win political
power which is now practically in the hands of the bourgeoisie.
*
Wissenschaft der Logik, erster Band, S. 313-14. We quote according to
the Nuremberg edition of 1812.
371
jf you wish lo put it thus, you may say that the workers must
ffect a political catastrophe. Economic evolution leads as sure
as fate t 0 political revolution and this latter, in turn, w ill be the
cause of important changes in the economic structure of society.
The mode of production slowly and gradually assumes a social
character. The mode of appropriation of the products correspond
ing to it w ill be the result of a forcible revolution.
That is how the historical movement is taking place not in Rus
sia, but in the West, of whose social life Mr. Tikhomirov has
not the slightest conception , although he has indulged in observ
ing the powerful culture of France .
Forcible revolutions, torrents of blood , scaffolds and execu
tions, gunpowder and dynam ite these are distressing phenom
ena. But what can we do about them, since they are inevit
able? Force has always been the midwife at the birth of a new socie
ty. That is what Marx said, and he was not the only one to think
so. The historian Schlosser was convinced that great revolutions
in the destiny of mankind are accomplished only by fire and
sword.* Whence this sad necessity? W7hose fault is it?
Or is not everything on earth
Subject to the power of truth ? 253
No, not yet. And this is due to the difference between class
interests in society. For once class it is useful or even essential
to reorganise social relationships in a certain way. For the
other it is useful or even essential to oppose such a reorganisation.
To some it holds out prospects of happiness and freedom, others
it threatens with the abolition of their privileged state, and even
with complete destruction as a privileged class. W hat class w ill
not fight for its existence? W hat class has no instinct of selfpreservation? The social system that is advantageous to one class
seems to it not only just, but even the only possible one. In
its opinion any attempt to change that system means destroying
the foundations of all human society. That class considers itself
*
His thorough knowledge of history apparently inclined Schlosser even
to accept the ola geological views of Cuvier. Here is what he says about
Turgots reform projects which still make the philistines wonder: These
projects contain all the substantial advantages that France acquired later
by means of the revolution. They could be achieved only by the revolution:
in its expectations the Turgot ministry displayed too much of a sanguine and
philosophical spirit: it hoped, contrary to experience and history, to change,
its prescriptions alone, the social structure which had been formed during
the course of time and consolidated with firm ties. Radical transformations,
>n history as in nature, are impossible until all that existshasbeen annihilat
ed by fire, sword and destruction. History of the Eighteenth Century, Russian
translation, second edition, St. Petersburg, 1868, Vol. I l l , p. 361. W hat an
amazing fantast that German scholar is, Mr. Tikhomirov w ill say.
24
372
G. P LEK HA N O V
called to defend those foundations even by the force of arms if

necessary. Hence the torrents of blood, hence the struggle and
violence.
However, the socialists, in reflecting on the impending social
upheaval, may console themselves w ith the thought that the more
their destructive doctrines spread, the more developed, orga
nised and disciplined the working class is, the fewer victims the
inevitable catastrophe w ill demand.
And then, the trium ph of the proletariat, by putting an end
to the exploitation of man by man, and consequently to the
division of society into'a class of exploiters and a class of exploited,
w ill make civil wars not only useless, but even utterly impos
sible. Thereafter mankind w ill advance by the power of truth
alone and w ill not need the argument of arms.
Ill
Let us now pass on to Russia.

The socialists in the West adhere to the teaching of Marx.
U ntil recently the Narodnik socialists have been dom inant among
the Russian revolutionaries. The distinction between the Western
socialist, i.e., the Social-Democrat, and the Narodnik socialist
is that the first appeals to the working class and relies only on
the working class, while the second has long ceased to appeal to
anybody but the intelligentsia", i.e., to himself, and relies only
on the intelligentsia, i.e., only on himself. W hat the Social-Demo
crat fears above all is to become isolated, and therefore, to be
in a false position in which his voice could no longer reach the
masses of the proletariat and would be a voice of one crying in the
wilderness. The Narodnik socialist, who has no support among
the people, does not suspect the falseness of his position; he
voluntarily goes into the wilderness and his only concern is
that his voice should strike his own ears and bring joy to his
heart. The working class, as is seen by the Social-Democrat,
is a powerful, eternally mobile and inexhaustible force which
alone is able now to lead society to progress. The people, as
is seen by the Narodnik socialist, is a clumsy giant born of the
earth who can remain immobile on his famous foundations
for hundreds of years. And the Narodnik socialist sees this immo
bility of our Ilya Muromets 254 not as a shortcoming but as quite
a considerable merit. Far from grieving over it, he asks of history
but one favournot to move the Russian giant from the founda
tions which have long been worn out u n til the fortunate time
when he, the good Narodnik socialist, having dealt with capi
talism, tsarism and other harmful influences, appears satisfied
.and radiant before Ilya Muromets and respectfully announces!
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
.373
M o n sie u r est servi! Dinner is served! Then all the giant will
need to do w ill be to drink off two and a half pailfuls of strong
wine and sit down quietly to the social repast prepared for h im ....
The Social-Democrat studies attentively laws and the course
0f historical development. The Russian Narodnik socialist,
who dreams w illingly and often of the development which the
people w ill begin to undergo some time in some other world,
on the day after the revolution , w ill not hear of that economic
evolution which is not a dream and which is proceeding every
day and every hour in present-day Russia. The Social-Democrat
swims w ith the current of history, but the Narodnik socialist,
on the contrary, drifts w ith that current farther and farther
away from his ideals. The Social-Democrat. derives support
from evolution, but the Narodnik socialist looks lo all sorts
of sophisms for support against it.
More than that. The village commune was far more enduring
one or two hundred years ago than it is now. That is why tho
Narodnik socialist has a yearning furtively to turn the clock
of history one or two hundred years back.*
Hence it follows that Mr. Tikhom irovs opinion is quite correct
when applied to the Russian Narodnik socialists: they were really
unable to reconcile the two concepts: evolution and revolution.
Only our author did not consider it necessary lo add that he
was the principal and the most prolific literary exponent of that
tendency in our revolutionary party. Long and obstinately he
fought in his articles against every attempt to establish reason
able connections between the Russian revolutionaries demands
and the inevitable course of Russian social development. The
village commune, on the one hand, and the intelligentsia , on
the other, were for Mr. Tikhomirov extreme concepts further
which his revolutionism never got.
Rut it goes without saying that the revolutionaries in a parti
cular country cannot ignore its evolution with im piinity. The
Russian Narodnik socialists soon learned this by bitter experi
ence. They did not always appeal only to themselves, they did
not always place their hopes on the intelligentsia only. There
was a time when they tried to rouse the people, they naturally
meant the peasants, the bearers of the village commune ideals
und Ihe representatives of commune solidarity. But as was to be
expected, the peasants remained deaf to their revolutionary calls
and they were obliged against their w ill to try to carry out the
*
Ry Narodnik socialists we mean all those socialists who held tho village
commune to be the main economic basis of the socialist revolution in Russia.
In this sense Ihe Narodovoltsi must also be considered as Narodniks. They
themselves admit that they are. In the Programme of the Executive Committhey indeed call themselves Narodnik socialists.'26^
374
G. PLEK HA NO V
revolution with their own forces. W e ll, and what could they
do with those forces? They never had the slightest possibility
of entering openly into conflict with the government. The politi
cal demonstrations during the second half of the seventies quite
convincingly brought home to the intelligentsia that their
forces were not sufficient even for a victory over dvorniks and po
licemen. In such a state of affairs, the Narodnik socialists having
the views we have spoken of, there was no other course for them
but what we call terror and what Mr. Tikhomirov calls individual
rebellion. But in div id u al rebellion cannot overthrow any govern
ment. Very rarely, I presume, are the champions of political
murder aware that the present force of terrorism in Russia is
the powerlessness of the revolution , our author caustically notes.
That is perfectly true. O nly he was wrong when he imagined
that his creative m ind was required to discover such a simple
truth. This was pointed out in the time of the Lipetsk and Voro
nezh congresses by those of our revolutionaries who wished to
m aintain the old programme of Zemlya i V olya .268 They were
perfectly right when they said that w ithout support from at least
a certain section of the popular masses no revolutionary movement
was possible. B u t as they adhered to the old Narodnik views,
they could not have even a vague idea of the kind of activity
that would guarantee our revolutionary party beneficial influence
over the masses and would therefore insure it against the exhaus
tion they could not avoid when carrying out the terrorist struggle.
A t the same tim e the terrorist struggle had one indisputable
advantage over all the old programmes: it was at any rate in
real fact a struggle for political freedom, a thing which the revo
lutionaries of the old make-up would not hear of.
Once they had entered the political struggle, the Narodnik
socialists were faced w ith the question of evolution. For the
socialist to win political freedom cannot be the last step in revo
lutionary work. The rights guaranteed to citizens by the modern
parliamentary system are no more in his eyes than an intermedi
ary stage on the road to the main aim , i.e., to the reorganisation
of economic relationships. Between w inning political rights and
reorganising these relationships a certain time must necessarily
elapse. The question is: W ill Russian social life undergo a change
during that tim e, and if it does, in which direction? W ill not
the constitutional system lead to the destruction of the old foun
dations of peasant life which are so dear to the Narodnik social
ists? To answer this question satisfactorily the m ain propositions
of Narodism had to be criticised.
I t would not be difficult to notice in our revolutionary lite
rature an ever-growing consciousness of the necessity to eluci
date, at last, the connection between the Russian revolution
375
8nd Russian evolution. Mr. Tikhomirov, who, as we have already

'vas the most obstinate of all our revolutionaries of the
old faith and zealously safeguarded the Narodnik dogma which
be had adopted against incursion by any new thoughteven
Mr. Tikhomirov personally felt the influence of this transitory
period. His pamphlet Why I Ceased to be a Revolutionary quite
definitely indicates this. Telling the story of the transformation
w h i c h he underwent, Mr. Tikhomirov mentions an article that
he wrote for N o.5 of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli but which was not
approved by his colleagues on the editorial board and was there
fore not printed. He says that in it he elaborated the proposi
tion that only a certain evolution in the life of the people can
provide ground for revolutionary activity;..."my revolutionism ,
he says, sought precisely that evolution, that historical process
of change of type, in order to act in conformity with it.*
W ell, what did Mr. Tikhom irovs revolutionism find?
I demand the union of the party w ith the country , our author
proclaims. I demand the abolition of terror and forming of
a great national party... b u tlth e n , what would be the purpose
of conspiracies, revolts and revolutions? A party, such as I was
striving to create would obviously have been able to work out
a system of improvements which would have been quite possible
and clearly fruitful, and hence it would have found strength and
ability to prove this to the government, which would have asked
for nothing better than to head the reform itself.**
Apparently, while seeking evolution, Mr. Tikhomirov's revo
lutionism , in its striving , dropped revolution, of which there
is no trace in his present views. That is sad, but it has its inevitable
logic. I t was natural for a man who refused at any price to aban
don the idealisation of antediluvian economic relationships in the
Russian countryside to end up w ith the idealisation of tsarism,
the natural political fruit of those relationships. Mr. Tikhom i
rovs present views are not more than the logical, though very
uncomely, conclusion from the theoretical premises of the Narod
nik socialists which he has always considered indisputable.
But, on the other hand, there can be no doubt either that this
conclusion has absolutely nothing in common w ith any evolution
whatsoever.
Mr. Tikhomirov sought evolution where it never existed and
where, consequently, il could not possibly be found.
W hat is the union of the party w ith the country? In any
country which has outgrown childhood there are classes or es
tates whose interests are partly different and partly completely
s a id .
* Pp. 13-14 of his pamphlet.

** Pp. 12-13 of his pampnlet.
376
G. PLEKHANOV
opposed to one another. No party can reconcile these interests*

therefore, no party can unite with the country as a whole. Any
party can express only the interests of a definite class or estate.
This naturally does not mean that every party is confined to rep
resent in politics only the selfish interests of this or that class
In every particular historical epoch there is a class whose victory
is linked with the interests of the countrys further development.
The countrys interests can be promoted only by contributing to
the victory of that class. Consequently, the union of the party
with the country can have but one rational meaning: the union
of the party with the class which at the particular time is the
bearer of progress. But what Mr. Tikhomirov says means nothing
of the sort. He has always denied, and all the more does he
now deny, the existence of any classes whatsoever in our
country.
The difference between class interests is a product of the course
of social development, of historical evolution. To understand the
difference between class interests means to understand the course
of historical development, and vice versa, not to understand that
difference means not to have the slightest conception of historical
development; it means to remain as far as theory is concerned
in the kind of darkness in which all cats are grey and perfectly
alike. And if a writer who is in such darkness nevertheless speaks
to you about evolution, you can be sure that he is mistaking for
evolution something that is its direct opposite.
But even if we leave aside all these considerations, we cannot
refrain from asking Mr. Tikhomirov the following interesting
question: W hy does he think that once the party succeeded in
uniting w ith the country, the government would ask for nothing
better than to head itself the reform demanded by that party?
Our author probably remembers that exactly a hundred years
ago the following fact occurred: the representatives of the third
estate in a certain country voiced the interests of the overwhelm
ing m ajority of the population; they worked out a system of im
provements which were quite possible and clearly fruitful . But the
government of that country did not wish to head the reform
and began to strive to suppress it with the help of foreign troops.
Of course, they did not prevent the reform being carried out,
but as far as the government was concerned, its striving was
a lamentable failure. However, Mr. Tikhomirov probably thinks
that the government of such an exceptionalist state as Russia
would most certainly follow its exceptionalist road in such a case,
and that therefore the examples of other countries mean nothing
for us.
Our author was seeking ways of uniting the party with the
country and found himself by mistake on a road which led him
A N EW CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
377
to union w ith .absolutism. But what, has the development of

Russia in common with the interests of the autocracy?
I regard the queslion of autocracy as follows,'we read on page
25 or Mr. Tikhom irovs pamphlet.. First of all, it constitutes in
Russia (as she is now) a phenomenon which is perfectly useless
lo discuss. It is a result of Russian history which stands in no
need of acknowledgement and cannot be destroyed by anybody
as long as there are lens and tens of m illions in the country who
neither know nor wish to know anything else in politics.
Mr. Tikhomirov was trying to understand the meaning of Rus
sian evolution. In order to succeed in that he should have made
clear to himself not only what Russia is now, but above all what
she is becoming, in which sense she is undergoing a change in
the type of social relationships. Whoever ignores this side of
the malter may speak only of stagnation, not of development.
It was precisely this side of the matter that Mr. Tikhomirov
ignored. That was why there happened to him what happens
to all those of the conservative trend. They imagine that they
are considering the country as it is now", but in reality their
minds eye is turned towards the country as it was at one lim e
and as it is no longer at the present time as far as a large part
of it is concerned. Their conservative dreams are founded on
the idealisation of old, already obsolete economic and political
relationships.
Mention economic relationships in Russia to Mr. Tikhom irov.
He w ill tell you: the village commune is a result of Russian histo
ry which stands in no need of acknowledgement as long as there
arc tens and tens of m illions who neither know nor wish to know
anything else in economics. But the short phrase as long as
contains the whole substance of the matter. A man who says
high-sounding phrases about evolution must not be content
with references to the present. If he wishes to convince us that
the village commune has a lasting future he must prove lhat
the above as long as" is not fated to be only a very short time,
that the village commune does not carry in itself and w ill never,
or at least for a long time, carry in itself the elements of its disin
tegration. S im ilarly, if he wishes to convince us of the lasting
future of the Russian autocracy, he must prove that in our social
relationships there are no factors under the influence of which
tons and tens of m illions w ill not, perhaps very soon, want to
hear anything about autocracy. As long as is a very vague term;
it is an X which may be equal to a m illion, but may also be not
far from nil. It was the task of our evolutionist to determine the
properties of X . But that was above his abilities. Overflowing
with exceptionalism, he has always lived in such strained rela
tions with science, which came to us, as we know, fromThe West,
378
G. P LEK HA N O V
that it was entirely beyond his power to find a serious solution

of any questions at all.
Defining the political views of the Russian people, Mr. Tikho
mirov speaks of Russia as she is now, or, more exactly, as she
appears to him . But his gaze is fixed on the past when he goes
on to the question whether the existence of autocracy is a hindrance
to the success of Russian culture. It is obvious to any unpreju
diced and unsophisticated person that this question can only
be formulated as follows: does the contemporary absolutism,
as it is now, hinder or promote Russias development? Mr. Tikh
omirov prefers another formulation of the question. He points
to absolutism as it was, in his opinion, at one time. Can one be
so forgetful of ones own history as to exclaim: W hat cultural
work there was under the tsars! (as many people do exclaim,
to Mr. Tikhom irovs great grief). Was not Peter a tsar? Yet has
there ever been in history an epoch of more rapid and broader
cultural work? asks our author vehemently. Was not Catherine
I I a tsaritsa? Was it not under Nicholas that a ll the social ideas
according to which Russian society still lives developed? And
lastly, are there many republics which carried out as many
improvements in the space of 26 years as the Emperor Alexan
der II? In answer to such facts we only find such pitiable phrases
as that this was done in spite of the autocracy1. But even if that
were the case, does it matter whether it was thanks to or
in spite of as long as progress and rapid progresswas pos
sible?*
B ut allow us to ask you, oh wise defender of evolution: Do
you really not understand the very simple fact that the present
may not resemble the past, and that the example of Peter, Cathe
rine or even Alexander I I means nothing at all for Alexander I I I
or Nicholas II? Peter tried to make Russia become an enlightened
country; Alexander I I I wanted to plunge her back into barbarity.
Russia can raise twenty new monuments to Peter and at the same
time find that Alexander I I I deserves nothing but the gallows.
W h y t urn back to Peter the Great when it is a question of Alexan
der the Fat?
Besides, how are we to understand the reference to the reign
of Nicholas? It was under Nicholas that m any of the ideas accord
ing to which Russian society s till lives were developed. That
is true, but do not be angry, Mr. Tikhomirov, and allow us to ask
you what role Nicholas, the guardsman-father of all reactions,
had in this. Suppose there is a war between the cats and the mice.
The mice think that the cats are a great danger to their well-being
and try by all means to get rid of them. Suddenly Reynard the
379
Fox appears and cunningly wagging his bushy ta il says to the

niice: Unreasonable and imprudent mice, I really cannot under
s t a n d you being so forgetful of your history as to exclaim, How
can we be well-off w ith cats? Now isnt Vaska a cat? Isn t Mashka
one too? D id not your number increase so much under Vaska that
the master of the house where you lived had to go to the trouble
of buying new mousetraps? It is true that Vaska destroyed as many
of you as he could, but all the same you m ultiplied, and isnt
it just the same to you whether you m ultiplied thanks to or in
spite of Vaska? W hat should the mice have answered to such
a sycophant?
"Great progress in literature is compatible w ith Autocratic
Monarchy, Mr. Tikhomirov assures us (p. 26). B ut that is really
too u n ... ceremonious! Or does he thin k that his readers do not
know the history of much-suffering Russian literature? W ho does
not remember Novikov and Radishchev, who felt the enlightened
Catherines claws, Pushkins exiles under Alexander the blessed;
Polezhayev, tortured to death by Nicholas the unforgetta
ble; Lermontov, exiled for a poem which contained nothing
dangerous for the foundations; Shevchenko, condemned to waste
his life as a common soldier; Dostoyevsky, at first sentenced
to death in spite of his complete innocence and then reprieved,
sent to forced labour, shut up in the Dead House where he was
twice subjected to corporal punishment; Belinsky, whom death
alone saved from the gendarmes? Does Mr. Tikhom irov think
his readers have forgotten the exile of Shchapov, M ikhailov
who died in Siberia, Chernyshevsky, who spent more than twenty
years there; Pisarev, who spent the best years of his life in a
fortress; the modern Russian writers among whom one rarely
finds a man of independent m ind who has not been under police
surveillance or banished to more or less remote districts; and
finally the fury of the Russian censorship, accounts of which
people who do not know our Autocratic Monarchy would never
believe? Merciless persecution of every liv ing thought runs through
the whole history of the Russian emperors and our literature
paid a price unheard of for its development in spite o f autocracy.
Everybody knows that, and we advise Mr. Tikhomirov to expa
tiate on anything he likes, to write solemn odes on: guns of
victory, sound louder! Sing, rejoice, courageous Russ! but to
leave Russian literature in peace. The mere thought of it is
enough to inspire us w ith burning hatred for our autocrats!
Replying to a book by Custine on Russia under Nicholas,
Grech once affirmed that one could write w ith the same freedom
Petersburg as in Paris or in London . 257 Mr. T ikhom irovs
observations on the flourishing of Russian literature under the
auspices of autocracy are nothing more than the further develop-
380
G. P LEK HA N O V
xnent of Grechs audacious thought. On the appearance of the

pamphlet Why I Ceased to be a Revolutionary, many people
thought that Mr. Tikhomirov wanted to become a new K atkov,
endowed w ith a more creative intelligence than the late editor
of Moskovskiye Vedomosti. 258 But that was a mistake. To one
who considers the matter carefully it is clear that Mr. Tikhomirov
was disturbed by Grechs fame. And it must be admitted that
Mr. Tikhom irovs entire manner of w riting is reminiscent of
Grech. Mr. Tikhom irov is not destined to be a new Katkov, but
he has all that it takes to he a new Grech, in m iniature, of
course.
W hat difference does it make, says Mr. Tikhom irov, whether
it is thanks to or "in spite of the tsars that our social develop
ment proceeds! A great deal of difference, Mr. Tikhomirov!
It is not a matter of indifference to us whether our educational
establishments are under the authority of Tolstois, Delyanovs,
Runiches or Magnitskys. It is not a matter of indifference to us
that admission to them is restricted, that they may be closed
at any time on the whim of the tsar and the youths taught in
them are handed over to sergeant-majors in lieu of Voltaires.
It is not the same tons that the northern and eastern exile regions
are populated w ith our students and that, at the present, parents
who let their sons enter a higher educational establishment con
sider them already almost lost. It is not a matter of indifference
to us that in our autocratic, police stale at least one-fifth of the
inhabitants (peasants) every year are subjected to corporal
punishment when the taxes are collected. It is not a matter of
indifference to us that the workers are persecuted in violation of
the laws by the adm inistration for the slightest protest against the
hellish conditions in the factories and, if it occurs lo our autocrat,
can even be handed over lo a m ilitary tribunal, as was not unfre
quently the case under Nicholas. A ll that is far from being a mat
ter of indifference to us. The stupid self-willedness of the autocrats
costs us too great a price. There was a tim e too when all this was
far from being a matter of indifference to you, Mr. Tikhomirov.
And do you know what? If you still have the slightest drop of
hum anity you w ill, in spite of yourself and your evolution,
often recall that time as the noblest in your life.
In Mr. T ikhom irovs opinion, if our student youth is surround
ed with danger those to be blamed are the incitors who draw
them into politics. Student interference in politics is a t t e n d e d
by the most harm ful consequences in the form of various demon
strations. when, for some paltry protest against a wretched inspec
tor, hundreds of young people, irreplaceable forces, are lost For
the country in hardly 24 hours. Let us note first that student
interference in politics is one thing and what are called student
A N EW CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY
381
affairs are quite another. For students there are other ways of
interfering in politics, besides the fight, against the inspectors.
Secondly, we hum bly ask Mr. Tikhom irov to tell us who is to
blame for ruin of these really valuable and truly irreplaceable
forces? Is it not the government, which is capable of destroying
hundreds of young people for a paltry protest against some wretch
ed inspector? It is remarkable that even in Mr. T ikhom irovs
presentation our absolutism is a kind of dragon, the wisest
policy towards which is merely not to fall into its claws.
Of course, it would be m illions of times better for the country"
if our youth could study and develop in peace! Who w ill dispute
that? Hut unfortunately they w ill not be able to do so u n til
the political system which is now ruining their young energies
is finally abolished. The government w ill never forgive the youth
their interference in politics and the youth w ill never refrain
from such interference. The student youth everywhere have taken
a most active part in the fight for political freedom. George Sand
long ago gave the right answer to the philistines who condemn
them for this: if everything that is good and noble in youth is
directed against the existing system, that is the best proof that
the system is worthless.
But it is not only the student youth that Mr. Tikhom irov
would like to keep away from the political struggle. He advises
everybody, even the very oldest of his readers to ignore it and
suggests as an alternative cultural work ... approved by the
authorities. According to him , no impediments or obstacles can
hinder such work. Whatever the kind of government, he says,
it can take away from the people anything you like to imagine
but the possibility to carry on cultural work, assuming that
the people is capable of such work. How gladdening! The only
trouble is that we just cannot imagine what wonderful kind
of work it is that, so to say, moths do not eat and rust does not
consume, and that we can peacefully engage in it even if the
government takes away from us anything you like to imagine .
The spreading of education, for example, is the most cultural
of all cultural works. But the government can always take away
from us this kind of work and Mr. Tikhomirov himself knows
many examples of it having done so. Literary activity must also
be recognised as cultural work. Hut Mr. Tikhomirov also knows
full well that the government can easily forbid any of us to indulge
in such work at any time. W hat kind of work does our author
menu then? The building of railways, the promotion of the suc
cess of our national industry? But even here everything depends
on bureaucratic tyranny. The government may at any time refuse
Permission for your undertaking or crush it w ith heavy taxes,
absurd tariffs, etc. W ill we have much left, once the government
382
G. P LEK HA N O V
takes away everything you like to imagine? (To tell the truth,
il is not far from doing that already.)
It seems to us that Mr. Tikhomirov should be more sincere
w ith his readers and tell them, w ithout any reservation, the con
soling words that the stoics used to tell the slaves: your masters
can take away from you everything you like to imagine, but it
is above their power to take away from you the inner freedom
of your ego, and only that inner freedom is of any value to the
man of reason. Many people would probably understand all
the correctness of that philosophical thought.
If the Russian 'intellectual is fated to a stormy youth from
the political point of view, and if in a riper age he wishes to rest,
to live and enjoy it, ho w ill yearn for cultural work". He does
not even know very well himself what that work must consist of.
From his confused explanations you can generally understand
only one thing: a very considerable portion of his future work
w ill be needed to guard and m aintain his cultured person. But
excuse me, every educated man is of value to us, the future
Kulturtrager w ill protest, avoiding that his eyes should meet
yours. In other words, he is so good and instructive in his intel
lectualness that when the Russian people look at him they w ill
be cured of m any diseases w ithout more ado, just as the Hebrews
in the desert were cured by looking at the brazen serpent. And it
is this work of figuring as a Russian brazen serpent that
M r. Tikhom irov recommends to his readers. He who once waxed
enthusiastic over the fame of Robespierre or Saint-Just now
pretends to be infatuated w ith the splendid examples of Kostanjoglo, the model landlord, or Murazov, the angelically kind
tax farmer . 259
But speaking of such work he should not have made any
reference to history. Our author was very im prudent when he
recalled Peter, Catherine and Alexander I I . D elving down to the
meaning of such examples, the reader may say to himself: however
much or little cultural work there really was in the country
during the reign of one or the other of those sovereigns, it consisted
in reorganising social relationships in accordance w ith the most
crying needs of the tim e. The question is: is tsarism as it is now,
capable of undertaking a reorganisation of Russian social rela
tionships which would be useful and conform to the needs of our
time? It is said that the most necessary reorganisation of those
relationships consists in lim itin g the power of the tsar. W ill thp
tsar undertake such cultural work? That is a dangerous thought.
Mr. Tikhom irov! The reader, asking himself such a question, is
not far from what today is called seditious intent. But that is
not all: some readers can even go farther and indulge, for example,
in the following destructive" thinking: the reforms of Alexander I I
383
were brought about by the Crimean pogrom, which forced us to

adopt a programme of transformations which were unquestionably
necessary for the self-preservation of Russia as a European coun
try. The basis of all other reforms at that time was the abolition
of serfdom. The reason for it , besides general economic considera
tions, was that the number of peasant revolts, increasing every
year, led to fear of a popular rising. It. apparently follows
from this that when we wish to force the tsar to undertake cultur
al work we w ill have to in tim id a te him by an uprising, and
intim idate him seriously, of course, i.e., not lim it ourselves to
words, but prepare an uprising in actual fact. This means that
revolutionary activity is that same cultural work, but considered
from a different aspect. And this last type of "cultural work is
in substance profitable to the autocrats themselves. Roused by the
danger of a revolt, they w ill more readily transform themselves
into emancipators . For Alexander I I to thin k of reforms Russia
had to be in such a desperate condition that the only thing left for
Nicholas was to com m it suicide. The revolutionaries w ill recon
cile the tsars w ith the inevitable perspective of cultural work ;
then the suicide of tsars may also prove superfluous.
Do you see, Mr. Grech, what a tem ptation you lead your read
ers into? IIow comes it that you behave so inconsiderately?
And s till you boast of the im p rin t of positiveness which you
were always noted" for! W hy did you delve into history? W ould
it not have been better for you to lim it yourself to exalting that
cultural work which is so dear to you and which does not in the
least concern social relationships and w ill repay us a hundredfold
for a ll mishaps, even if absolutism takes away from the brave
Russiaus everything you like to imagine?
Our modern Grech himself knows how little assiduity the
Russian monarchs display in the domain of historical cultural
work. That is why he wishes to play on our patriotism by point
ing out the Russian national problems" which, in his m ind, can
be solved only by a stable government. In a certain sense our
tsarism seems never to have been lacking in s tability , but did
that help much in solving our cultural problems? Let us recall at.
any rate the history of the Eastern question, which is nearest to us.
We were told that our national problems demanded the
liberation of Moldavia and W alachia. We fought for that libera
tion, but when it was effected our absolutism managed to make
the Rum anians our enemies. Was arousing them against Russia
Promoting the solution of the Russian national problems?
We were told that the liberation of Serbia was necessary in
view of our "national problems . We contributed to it, and the
tsars policy drove the Serbs into the arms of Austria-Hungary,
^ id that promote the solution of our national problems?
384
G. 1'LEKHANOV
We were told the interests of Russia required that Bulgaria

should be liberated. Enough Russian blood wasshed in that cause,
but now, thanks to the policy of our firm and stable government, the Bulgars hate us as their bitterest persecutors. Is that
advantageous to Russia ? 260
The solution of the national problems of any country requires
first of all one condition: stable conformity of the government's
policy w ith the countrys national interests. But in our country
that condition does not and cannot exist, because our policy is
fully dependent on His August Majestys fantasy. If Elizabeth
fights Frederick of Prussia, Russia is obliged to th in k that tho
war is being waged in her national interests. Then Peter I I I
becomes tsar Peter, who when he was only heir to the throne,
behaved treacherously towards R ussiaand the Russian soldiers
who u n til then have been fighting against Frederick im m ediately
go over to his side and the inhabitants of Russia are obliged to
thin k that the change of sides is required by their national problems. Or else let Mr. Tikhomirov recall the autocratic pranks
played by Paul or Nicholas, who thought that Russia's principal
national problem was to play im p lic itly the role of gendarme of
Europe. W hat did Russia gain from her campaign against Hungary? A few years after it the Unforgettable, in a conversation
w ith a Pole, asked him who was the most stupid king in Poland
after Ja n Sobieski. And as the Pole did not know what to answer,
the tsar said: I was, because I also saved Vienna when 1 should
not have done it. But the stup idity of His Majesty the K ing
of Poland and Emperor of Russia was bound to have the most
harmful effects on the national interests of Russia.
The most im portant of all our national tasks is to win freedom
of political institutions, thanks to which the forces of our country
would at last cease to be a toy in the hands of some crowned K it
K ity c h . 261 Speaking of Russias national tasks, the apologists of the
autocracy remind her first of all, against their w ill, of this task.
Our author writes that only the desperate romanticism of
our revolutionaries allows them to treat the hereditary autocrats
of Russia in a way permissible in respect of a usurper. The Russian
tsar did not usurp his power but, got it from his solemnly elected
ancestors and to this very day the overwhelming m ajority of the
people have not uttered a single word showing a desire to deprive
the Romanovs of their powers . To set off s till more the greatness
of the tsars authority, Mr. Tikhom irov stresses that the Russian
Church, which is acknowledged by the immense m ajority of the
population, consecrates the tsar, giving him the title of its
temporal head .*
* I*. 16.
R
'!
i
J
I
J
J
I
0
||
II
11
*
.
J
I
J
J
'(
I
J
I,
lj
ll
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
385
Let us first make a tin y remark: it was not the Church that
decided to consecrate the Russian tsar and give him the title
0f its temporal head; it was the Russian tsar himself who, on his
0wn inspiration and in the interests of his own authority, decided
to confer upon himself th a t title of honour. That is not a great
crime, but why does Mr. Tikhomirov distort history?
To continue, which Romanovs is he talk in g about? There was
a time when in fact Romanovs sat on the Russian throne. I t cannot
be said that this dynasty was elected by any particularly solemn
considerations. Some historians affirm that the boyars were in
favour of Misha Romanov because he was weak in the head
and they hoped to keep him under their thum b. I t is said also
that when the tsar was elected, he in turn made a solemn promise
to respect the rights of the country . B u t nothing definite is
known on this point and as far as the election of the Romanovs
is concerned we must say w ith Count A. Tolstoi:
I t happened in summer, but
whether there was agreement
(ibetween the parties concerned)
history does not say.*$t
Whatever the case may be, the Romanovs were in fact elected,
and the Russian tsars could claim election by the people if they
really belonged to that dynasty. But that dynasty has been
extinct for a long tim e. On the death of Elizabeth Peter HolsteinGottorp succeeded her on the throne and no Romanovs could have
issued from his union w ith the Princess of Anhalt-Zerbst, even
if we acknowledge the legitimacy of P a u ls birth which Catherine
herself expressly denies in her Memoirs. The country had abso
lutely no share in the election of Peter Holstein. I t is true that
in the female line he was related to the extinct dynasty, but
if that is a reason for granting him and his descendants the title
of Romanov, the children of the Prince of Edinburgh, for example,
should also be given that name, and this does not appear to have
occurred to anybody. For the Russian revolutionJiries, of course,
it is all the same whom they overthrow, the Romanovs or the
Holstein-Gottorps, but once more, why distort history?
The Russian tsars must not be treated as usurpers! That's a
novelty! We always thought they should not be treated other
wise than as usurpers. And our reason was that the Russian tsars
themselves not infrequently treated their predecessors as usurpers.
Does Mr. Tikhomirov remember the history of the eighteenth
century? Does he remember the accession to the throne of Elizabeth
and Catherine II? Either ces dames usurped the power of tsar,
or, if their accession was legitim ate, their predecessors were
usurpers. Paul always called Catherines action usurpation and
25-01329
386
G. lL E K H A N O V
they say that Nicholas shared his opinion on this point. Docs 1
Mr. Tikhomirov remember the murder of Paul? Does he remember
that in this matter Alexander the blessed can be accused of at
least knowing and not revealing"? W hat name should we give
a man who acceded to the throne by means of a plot against his
father and emperor? Of course, it is all the same to the Russian
revolutionaries whether they have to deal w ith tsars by the
grace of God or w ith tsars by the grace of the leibkampantsi " 263
and other praetorians. B ut, once again, why distort history? W hy
speak of the legitimate inheritance of power from ancestors?
W hy indulge in fantasy about the holiness of the throne when
it is fouled w ith a ll sorts of crimes?
Either Mr. Tikhomirov thinks that his readers do not know
the history of Russia, and is therefore speculating on their
ignorance, or else he does not know it himself and, so to say,
leaps before looking.
0 man of much experience, thy boldness is thy undoing!
And such a brave champion was not understood or appreciated
by the Russky Vestnikl Tho paper m aintains that Mr. Tikhomirov
has said nothing new. But where can we get anything new from
if you, gentlemen, have absolutely exhausted a ll there is to say
in favour of absolutism? And besides, Russky Vestnik's assurance
is not quite fair. Mr. Tikhom irovs pam phlet contains an absolute
ly new way of in tim id a tin g people to deter them from revolution
ary work. Ilere it is the precious fruit of Tikhom irovs originality.
The influence of the way of life itself, we see on page 18 of his
pam phlet, is extraordinarily unfavourable to the terrorist and
conspirator.... His consciousness is dominated by the awareness
that not only today or tomorrow, but at every second, he must
be ready to die. Tho only way to live w ith such an awareness is
not to think of many things which one must, however, think of
if one wishes to remain a man of culture. Any at all serious attach
ment is real misfortune in this situation. The study of any ques
tion whatsoever, of any social phenomenon, etc., is unthinkable.
It cannot occur to one to have any at all complicated, or extensive
programme. A ll day long, the terrorist and conspirator must
deceive every single individual (with the exception of 5-10 fellowthinkers); he must hide from everybody and see everyone as an
enemy. In short, the conspirator and terrorist leads the life
of a hounded wolf and his fight against the goveniment is a fight
which hum iliates the fighter himself.
W ell, how about the metaphor? Not a bad turn of phrase?
we ask w ith Nekrasov. Delve down to the meaning of those argu
ments and you w ill see that Mr. Tikhom irov is by no means as
simple as he often appears to be. In Russia there is a stern and
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
387
implacable force which oppresses us and takes away from us

everything you like Lo imagine. We protest against that force,
each singly, and it grounds us to powder. We organise to light
il systematically, and the result of this struggle which, wo thought,
was to free us, is our own hum iliation.'. The moral is obvious:
if you do not want to be humiliated!, do not protest, submit to
the authority ordained by God, bow thy head, proud m an!
Apparently this conclusion applies directly only to the terror
ists but if there is any basis for its premise, any kind of revolution
ary struggle in Russia must be acknowledged to be hum iliating
because every revolutionary without exception has to fight"
police spies and to be reconciled w ith the thought of his possible
death not only today or tomorrow, but at every second. But is
o u r author right? Fortunately not, far from i l ; w hal he says is
even just the opposite of the truth and it needs only a little
attention on the part of the reader to blow away Tikhomirov's
sophism like smoke.
Lei us begin w ith a small but necessary correction. The revolu
tionaries fight not police spies, but the Russian Government
which persecutes them with the help of its eyes of the Tsar, spies
and provocateurs. Such a method of fighting against, the revolution
aries ism osthum iliating forthegovernment itself. Mr. Tikhom i
rov says nothing about this, but it is self-evident.* As for the
revolutionaries, how can persecution by police spies affect them?
Iirsl of all, this persecution must m aintain in each of them the
consciousness lhat not only today or tomorrow, but at every
second, he must be ready to die for his convictions. Not everybody
is able to bear such a thought at every minute. We can find ii
the history of secret societies in any country examples of weakness
tim idity , hu m iliatio n and even complete degradation. Bn
unfortunately for despotism, not all revolutionaries are like that
Constant persecution has quite the opposite effect on peopb
of stronger character; it develops in them not fear of persocutioi
bnt complete and constant readiness to die in the fight for a jus
cause. And this readiness m aintains in them a state of mind tha
pacific philistines who never aroused a single suspicion in an
spy cannot come anywhere near lo understanding. Everythin
personal, everything selfish is relegated to the background. <;
*
We need only remember the burial of Pudeikin and %ve will see ho
hum iliatingly near to spies our tsars are brought by their method of fightir
revolutionaries. During the famous Gatchina isolation2*4 of Alexander II
've readwe cannot remember in which paper that the august family ha
arranged a Christmas tree ... for 1ho court, police officials, ller Majesty gr.
ciously deigned to distribute presents to those officials with her own hand
After such kindness to the recognised police nobody would be surprised
during Easter Week there was an announcement in tho papers to the cITuthat Their Majesties had given the kiss of peace to the representatives of tl
secret police, or simply to spies, their closest fellow-thinkers .
2!
388
G. P LEK HA N O V
rather is forgotten entirely, and all that remains is the political

interest common to all, the power of one thought alone, a single
but burning passion . 266 Man attains the height of heroism. And
there have been enough people of this kind in our revolutionary
movement. See what Kennan writes when he makes the acquaint
ance of our exiles in Siberia. W hat I saw and learned in Siberia
stirred me to the very depths of my soul opened to me a new
world of hum an experiences, and raised, in some respects, all
my moral standards, he says in a letter quoted by Mrs. Dawes
in the August 1888 issue of the American magazine The Century.
I made the acquaintance of characters as truly heroic in mould
characters of as high a type as any outlined in history, and saw
them showing courage, fortitude, self-sacrifice and devotion to
an ideal beyond anythingof which 1 could believe myself capable
I went to Siberia, regarding the political exiles as a lot of mentally
unbalanced fanatics, homb-throwers and assassins.... When I came
away from Siberia I kissed those same men good-bye w ith my
arms round them and my eyes full of tears. . . . " 268 W hat will
Mr. Tikhom irov say of such people? The h u m iliatin g struggle
against police spies apparently did not have any hum iliating
influence on them. Ah, Mr. Grech, Mr. Grech, what an elephant
you have not noticed!
Of course, it would be far better if the revolutionaries did
not need to expose themselves to persecution by police spies.
B ut that depends on the government. Tikhom irov would be ren
dering us a great service if he impressed on our rulers that not
all means are good in fighting the revolutionaries and that eyes
of the Tsar are very unattractive.
As for the deception which revolutionaries are allegedly obliged
to engage in all day long, we can answer Mr. Tikhomirov with
the following arguments. We do not know whether he deceived
many people when he considered himself as a revolutionary.
Possibly he did. His own admissions show that as long as the
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli. was published, his literary work was decep
tion of his readers, for even at that time he no longer believed
in the cause he was defending. But from this it by no means
follows that a ll revolutionaries are obliged by the very force of
things to deceive. Mr. T ikhom irovs sad example means nothing
for them. Revolutionary work only obliges to secrecy, but there
is an enormous difference between secrecy and deception. Even the
most truthful man who has never told a lie in his whole life can
have secrets, and he has absolute moral right to reveal those secrets
only to his fellow-thinkers. Does not Mr. Grech understand that?
But here, reader, is a most amazing thing: Russian absolutism
is so monstrous that even when Mr. Tikhom irov himself has
engaged on the road of truth ho could not remain steadfast in
389
his role of loyal writer. After a ll sorts of far-stretched suppositions

and sophisms that he has invented in support of the power of the
tsar, he suddenly begins to be ironical, involuntarily adopting
Shchedrins tone. The source of legislative and executive power
according to Russian law is the sovereign of the country, he
writes. In republican countries it is the electors. Both of these
forms have their advantages, but in both of them political action,
whatever be its source, is manifested only through the intermedi
ary of definite institutions (sometimes such institutions as
barricades, for example, Mr. Tikhomirov). These institutions
are no less means of activity in Russia than in other countries.
We have the State Council, the Senate, the ministries w ith various
supplementary bodies such as the department of trade and m anu
facture and a fair number of permanent commissions (p. 31).
For this caustic sarcasm we can forgive our author many trans
gressions against logic and common sense, but not, of course,
against political decency.
IV
From all we have said the reader w ill perhaps conclude that
we do not recognise any merits on the part of our despotism.
That would not be quite true. Russian despotism certainly has
undeniable historical merits, the chief of which is that it has
brought to Russia the seed of its own downfall. It is true that it
was forced to do so by reason of its proxim ity to Western Europe,
but all the same it did it, and as a result deserves our sincerest
recognition.
The old Muscovite Russia was noted for her completely Asiatic
character. This strikes one in the economic life of the country,
in all its usages and the whole system of state adm inistration.
Muscovy was a kind of China in Europe instead of in Asia. Hence
the essential distinction that whereas tho real China did all
she could to wall herself in from Europe, our Muscovite China
tried by every means in her power from the time of Ivan the
Terrible to open al least a small window on Europe. Peter succeed
ed in accomplishing this great task. He effected an enormous
change which saved Russia from ossifying. But Tsar Peter could
do no more than was w ithin the power of a tsar. He introduced
a permanent army equipped in tho European way and European
ised the system of our state adm inistration. In a word, to tho
Asiatic trunk of Muscovite Russia the carpenter tsar attached
European arms. On a social foundation which dated almost
back to the eleventh century appeared a diplomacy, a permanent
ar'Ty, a bureaucratic hierarchy, industry satisfying luxurious
tastes, schools, academies, and the like, as Ram baud wonderfully
describes this period in our history. Tho power of the new, Euro
390
G. P LEK H A N O V
pean arms was of great service to Russia in lier international

relations but was disadvantageous to many aspects of domestic
life. Having brought Russia, as Pushkin said, into a prance the
great tsar ground the people down under the weight of taxation
and carried despotism to a degree of m ight unknown until
then. Every state institution which had in the least restrained
tho power of the tsar was abolished, every custom and tradition
which had in the slightest way safeguarded the peoples dignity was
forgotten and immediately on Peter's death those pranks of theleibkampantsi began owing to which the history of Russian tsardom
for a long time was, as an Italian writer put it, a tragody nel un
lupanar. Peters reform pleased our tsars and tsarilsas chiefly
because it strengthened tremendously the power of the autocracy.
As for the cultural work" which Peter began, they tried to escape
it as far as was at all possible and it took shattering events to
make the Russian monarchs remember Russian culture". Thus,
the unfortunate outcome of the Crimean W ar forced Alexander II,
as we have already said, to remember it. The Crimean pogrom
showed what a terrible distance separated us from Western Europe.
W hile wo rested on the laurels we had gathered during the Napo
leonic Wars, and placed all our hopes in the Asiatic patience
of our soldiers and the valour of Russian bayonets, the foremost
peoples in Europe managed to avail themselves of all the most
up-to-dato achievements in technology. W illy- nilly we had to
shake ourselves up too. Tho state needed new funds, new sources
of revenue. But for them to be found, serfdom, which was then
greatly cramping our industry, had to be abolished. Alexander II
did this and after February 19, 1861, it could be said that our
absolutism had done its utmost.
From the beginning of the sixties new social requirements
began to mature in Russia and the autocracy could not satisfy
them w ithout ceasing to bo an autocracy.
The fact was that the European arms were little by little exert
ing enormous influence on the Irunk of our social organism.
It started gradually to change from A siatic into European. To
m aintain Ihe institutions which Peter had introduced into Russia
the need was, first, money, second, money, third, money. By the
very fact of squeezing this money out of the people, the govern
ment was contributing to the development of commodity produc
tion in our country. Then, in order to m aintain those same institu
tions, there had to be at least some kind of factory industry.
Peter had laid the foundation of that industry in Russia. At the
beginning, and perfectly in keeping w ith the character of its
origin, this industry was perfectly subordinate and ancillary
to the state. It was feudally bound, like every other social force
in Russia, to serve the state. It m aintained itself by the serf
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
391
labour ol' peasants enlisted for work in the factories and works.
Nevertheless, it did vvhut it was meant to do, greatly helped in
tliis by the same international relations. The success of Russian
economic development. From Peter u n til Alexander II is best
seen from the fact that whereas Peters reforms required the serf
dependence of the peasants to be intensified, those of Alexander II
were inconceivable without its abolition. During the 28 years since
February 19, 1801, Russian industry has so rapidly forged ahead
that its relations to the state have altered quite substantially.
At one time perfectly subordinate to the state, it now strives to
subordinate the state to itself, lo place it at its own service. In one
of the petitions which they almost annually present to the governmenl, the merchants of the N izhny Novgorod Fair naively call
lhe linn nee ministry the organ of the estateof trade and industry,
businessmen who formerly could not take a step without direc
tions from the government now demand lhal the Government shall
follow their directions. Those same N izhny Novgorod merchants
express the modest desire that measures capable of influencing
I lie state of our industry should not be taken without being approved
by representatives of their estate. Thus, as regards Russian
economic development, absolutism has already said ils piece.
Far from being needed by our industry, state tutelage was even
harmful to it. The time is not far off when our estate of trade
and industry, convinced by experience that tim id remonstrations
arc useless, will be forced to remind tsarism in a sterner and
severer lone that lempora m utantur et nos m ulam nr in illis .*
*
It is generally thought in our country thal provided llie government
introduces protectionist tariffs and is not miserly as regards subsidies lor
this or that stock company, our bourgeoisie no longer have any reason lo be
dissatisfied with it. This is an entirely erroneous view. Here, as in all other
matters, good intentions are by no means sufficient: ability is also needed,
and lhat is what, our government has not got. 1. S. Aksakov, who was inspired
in this case by our Moscow merchants, said, for example, in his Hut
(October 30, 1882) that all the efforts of onr merchants and industrialists
to lind new foreign markets for the disposal of their commodities are not
only weakly supported by the Russian administration, but can even be said
to lie unceasingly paralysed by the absence of a clearly conceived general
trade policy ill our government". He explained this absence by the perfectly
correct consideration thal "such is our bureaucratic system, in which all
sections of administration are divided between departments to lhe detriment
ot (lie whole, and each department is very nearly a state w ithin the state.
He gives the following arguments to prove this: The finance ministry, for
Sam ple, works out and establishes a whole system of encouragements and
support for Russian industry and trade, including, among other things,
tariffs for foreign goods imported into Russia, and the railway departments,
which are administered by another ministry, that of communications, estab
lish a transport tariff which reduces to nil the tariff combinations of the
Jinance ministry and protects foreign trade to the detriment of Russian
trade. And a third ministry, that of the interior, whicli has under its authorit y
'atural, not artificial roads, neglects and allows to become unusable the
G. PLEK HA NO V
Mr. Tikhom irov, who once exalted the real peasant as a men
acing revolutionary force, now speaks of tho peasants reactionary
qualities as of something quite natural. It is precisely the peasant
he has in view when he says that tens of m illions among the
population w ill not hear of anything except tsarism. Like the
procurator in the comic poem The Speech of Zhelekhovsky , 267
he is now ready to exclaim in a voice fu ll of emotion:
Christ be praised,
By the peasant we'll be saved.
And, true enough, the peasant would save Mr. Tikhomirov
and his present fellow-thinkers if Mr. Tikhom irov and his
present fellow-thinkers could save the peasant who has been left
to us by the good old times. But no power whatever can save
h im .
The development of commodity and capitalist production has
radically changed the life of Russias working population. Our
Moscow and Petersburg despotism used to rely for support on
the backwardness of the rural population which lived in economic
conditions dating back, according to the expression of Ram baud
quoted above, almost to the eleventh century. Capitalism has
completely disrupted our ancient patriarchal rural relationships.
G. I. Uspensky, who in his essays portrayed the real peasant
w ith photographic exactness, admits that such a peasant is fated
not to exist much longer on earth, that the old peasant order
is breaking up and that in the countryside tw'o new estates
have been taking shape, namely the bourgeoisie and the proletar
iat. The latter are leaving the countryside as they grow and are
going to the town, to industrial centres, to the factories and
works.
One does not need to have studied in a seminary to know that
I lie development of the proletariat revolutionises social relation
ships. Everybody knows what kind of role the working class has
important ancient trade route, and tho foreign affairs ministry suddenly
concludes some kind of treaty without carehil consideration of Russian
trade interests (allowing, for example, in the Berlin treaty, the obligation
for Bulgaria to follow the Turkish tariff, which is the most unfavourable for
Russia and the most favourable for England and Austria, etc., etc.). In
the following issue of Hus, Aksakov stated that every safeguard of Russian
industrial interests had to be obtained by fighting, i.e., after long and obsti
nate insistence. In the same issue, speaking of transit through the Caucasus,
the editor of the Slavophile paper, who, we repeat, is here inspired by Moscow
manufactures, says that our industrial world, dissatisfied with the direc
tion adopted in this question by Petersburg was ashamed, embarrassed and
grieved and had already lost all hope of energetic support for the Russian
national (sic!) interests in official spheres in Petersburg. W ell, this seems
clear!
393
had in the modern history of Europe. In modern European society,

where tho ruling classes present a horrifying picture of hypocrisy,
falseness, perversion, deception, speculation on the Exchange
and political corruption, the working class is the only buttress
ond the only hope of a ll sincere and thin k ing supporters of progress.
In our country the formation of this class is of s till greater
significance. W ith its appearance the very character of Russian
culture is changing: our old Asiatic economic life disappearing,
giving place to a new, European one. I t is the working class in
our country that is destined to finish the greatest work of Peter
to complete the Europeanisation of Russia. But the working class
will im part an entirely new character to this m atter, on which
depends the very existence of Russia as a civilised country.
Begun in the past from above by the iron w ill of the most despotic
of Russian despots, it w ill be completed from below, by the emanci
pation movement of the most revolutionary of a ll classes that
history has ever known. Herzen notes in his Diary that in Russia
there is properly speaking no people, but only a prostrate crowd
and an executioner. In the working class a people in the European
sense of the word is now being created in Russia. In it the working
population of our country w ill for the first time rise in all their
might and call their executioners to account. Then the hour of
Russian autocracys doom w ill strike.
Thus the inexorable course of historical development solves
all those contradictions which in our country are characteris
tic of the position not of the revolutionary intelligentsia" alone,
but of any intelligentsia whatsoever. The Russian intelligen
tsia themselves are the fruit, quite unintentional, it is true, of
Peters transformation, i.e., of the instruction of youth in schools
and academies which started w ith that transformation. More
or less European in structure, these schools instilled into the
young people taught in them m any European concepts which
were contradicted at every step by the Russian system and m ainly
by the whole practice of autocracy. It is therefore understandable
that a section of educated Russians not satisfied w ith the majestic
perspective of the hierarchy system, adopted an oppositional
attitude to the government. Thus there arose in our country
the stratum which it is customary to call the intelligentsia. As long
as this stratum existed on a social basis dating back almost to the
eleventh century, it could revolt and be infatuated w ith any
utopias it pleased but it could change absolutely nothing in the
actual situation. In the general course of Russian life this stratum
was one of the lost generation , the whole of it was a kind of
intelligent superfluity'", as Herzen described some of its varieties.
ith the destruction of the old economic foundation of Russian
social relationships, w ith the appearance of the working class
394
G. P LEKHANOV
iri our country, everything is changing. By going among the

workers, bringing them science, arousing the class consciousness
of lhe proletarians, our revolutionaries from among the intel
ligentsia can become a powerful factor of social development
they who often enough despaired and lost heart, changed pro
gramme after programme without any result just as a hopelessly
sick man resorts in vain to one treatment after another. It ig
among the proletariat that the Russian revolutionaries w ill find
that support of the people which they have not had u n til recently.
The strength of the working class w ill save the Russian revolu
tion from exhaustion about w'hicli Mr. Tikhom irov and his
fellow-thinkers now speak w ith a smile of satisfaction. Indeed,
in div id u al revolts" are incapable of destroying any political
system whatsoever (and any movement of the intelligentsia"
alone is nothing but a certain number of in d iv id u a l revolts),
those in d iv id u a l revolts w ill merge w ith the mass revolt" of the
whole class as separate streams merge w ith a m ighty river.
There is s till tim e, it is not yet too late. W ill our intelligentsia
understand their position? W ill they be capable of assuming
the grateful role that history reserves for them?
Whether they understand or not, events w ill not wait for
them. The absence of allies among the intelligentsia w ill not
prevent our wTorking class from becoming aware of its interest,
understanding its tasks, bringing forward leaders from its own
ranks and creating its own ivorking-class intelligentsia. Such an
intelligentsia w ill not betray its cause or abandon it to the mercy
of fate.
It must again be noted, however, that in its fight against
autocracy the working class w ill in a ll probability not be alone,
although, of course, only the working class is capable of giving
that light tho decisive turn. The very state of affairs w ill necessar
ily drive tho whole of our bourgeoisie, i.e., our society , our
world of trade and industry, our landlords, that petty-bourgeois
n o bility, and finally even the rural third estate to a struggle
which is within their power.
Tho Kolupayevs and Razuvayevs 268 are so absurd and conser
vative that at first sight they seem destined to be the future
immovable foundation of order . In time they w ill indeed assume
that role but they must necessarily first pass through their
period of stormy strivings.
Our financial system is founded on the enslavement of the
peasant to the state, which takes from him everything you
like to imagine , guided by the far from complicated consideration
that he w ill get it . 29 The all-suffering he" long justified this
assurance that was so flattering for him , but now even his amazing
capacity for getting things is nearing its ruin. As we already
A N E W CHAMPION
OF AUTOCRACY
395
said- he *s Sing through a process of differentiation, being

transform ed into a proletarian, on the one hand, and a kulak,
n the other. As the most assiduous and vig ilant chief cannot get
much out of the light-headed proletarians, the burden of taxation
w eighing down on the village commune is falling more and more
on the wealthier members. It is true that tho latter endeavour
to repay themselves by appropriating the plots abandoned by tho
proletarians, but it is not difficult to understand that when it
jS a case of dues and taxes they cannot be as disinterested as the
good old he was. I n his sim plicity he dreamed only of running
a farm 011 his own, and when he succeeded, as he did in the
great m ajority of cases under the old system, he could be enslaved
to the state by being deprived of every kind of income, both
known and unknown to economists, w ith the exception of his
meagre wage. The kulak cannot be content w ith such a wage.
He must give it to his hired labourer and be must make sure
of a decent profit for himself. B ut this is inconceivable w ithout
radical changes in the Russian financial system, changes which
only the representatives of the whole country w ill be able to
effect. And there is 110 need to be a prophet to know beforehand
that in this respect there w ill be serious tinpleasantness between
the kulak and his father the Tsar .
Thus, Russian absolutism has been and s till is preparing its
own downfall. The timo is not far off when absolutism w ill become
absolutely impossible in Russia and then, of course, not many
educated people in our country w ill be sorry for it. One can
argue, and it is even useful to do so, over the means by which we
should strive to achieve political freedom. B ut among honest
and educated people there cannot be doubt as to whether we
require that freedom or not. We now have enough experience
to know what our old absolutism is, so no more compromising,
no more hesitation, but put your thumbs in its eyesockets and
your knee on its chest!*
V
To conclude, a few words about our Grech. The reader can

now see what should have constituted progress in our revolu
tionary theories and what w ill constitute it. As we noted above,
our Narodnik socialists of all possible groups and trends,
including the Narodnaya Volya party, did not find support in
evolution but sought support against it in a ll sorts of sophisms.
Their doctrine consisted in idealising the economic system which,
if it were in reality as stable and unshakable as it seemed to them,
* Words of Lassalle in his speech Was nun?270
G. P LEK HA NO V
would condemn them for ever to utter powerlessness. A criticism

of Narodism was therefore the first and indispensable step forward
on the way to the future development of our revolutionary move
ment. If Mr. Tikhomirov was seriously grieved by the in ab ility
of the Russian revolutionaries to make evolution and revolution
harmonise, he only had to undertake such a criticism. But he did
just the opposite. He did not criticise Narodism, he only carried
its m ain propositions to the extreme. The errors which underlay
the N arodnik outlook reached such gigantic proportions in his
head that he can call himself a worker for progress" (whether
peaceful or otherwise does not matter in this case) only as a joke,
In brief, if the Narodniks proceeded from certain erroneous prop
ositions, Mr. Tikhom irov carries those propositions to tho
extent of monstrosity and now proceeds happily from the absurd.
But that horse w ill not carry him far!
Such is the sad story of our authors revolutionism". This
revolutionism was for a long time in complete theoretical
solitude, but the time came when he saw that it was not good
for him to be alone" and he deigned to contract law ful wedlock
w ith some theory of evolution. He sought himself a suitable
partner for a few years and finally rested his eyes in love on the
theory of u n ity of the party w ith the country . This very modestlooking m aiden, who passed herself off, so to say, as the major
theory of evolution, turned out to be first a wicked woman who
drove Mr. Tikhom irovs revolutionism to the grave, and secondly
an impostor, who had nothing in common w ith any doctrino
of social development.
Mr. Tikhom irov thinks that this story contains a lot of in
structive m aterial! It is instructive, but in a sense not so flattering
for him .
He imagines that on reading the pamphlet Why I Ceased to
he a Revolutionary everybody w ill think: it is obvious that the
author was a revolutionary only through the fault of others,
only because all our educated people are noted for their extremely
absurd habits of thinking; and Mr. Tikhomirov ceased to bo
a revolutionary thanks to the outstanding features of his own
creative reason and his wonderfully profound patriotism. Alas!
not even Russky Vestnik came to that conclusion.
In Mr. T ikhom irovs complaints about what he had to suffer
from the revolutionaries because of his evolution one can sense
proud consciousness of his own superiority. He is cleverer than
the others, the others d id n t understand or appreciate him and
insulted him terribly when they should have applauded himBut Mr. Tikhomirov is cruelly mistaken. He owes his cvoln*
tion only to his lack of development. Woe from w it is not his
woe. His woe is woe from ignorance.
397
And this m an, who understands no more about socialism than

a pen-pusher in a Petersburg police station, was for a long time
considered as a prophet and an interpreter of some kind of special
Russian socialism which he liked to oppose to West European
socialism! R evolutionary youth listened to his disquisitions,
considering him as the continuer of the work of Zhelyabov and
Perovskaya. Now they see what this would-be continuer was.
Mr. Tikhomirov's betrayal has forced our revolutionaries to
direct their critical attention to his person. But th a t is not all.
They are now obliged to check critically a ll that Mr. Tikhomirov
wrote throughout the eighties when he, although himself not
believing what he wrote, thought it necessary to write in the
capacity of a revolutionary.* A lot of rubbish Mr. Tikhomirov
came out w ith, a lot of questions he muddled during those years.
And u n til we can clear up that muddle, even if we have broken
with him and assessed him as he deserves, we shall s till not free
ourselves from theoretical Tikhomirovism. But free ourselves we
must.
And now, good-bye, Mr. Tikhomirov. May our orthodox god
grant you health and our autocratic god reward you w ith the
rank of general!
pamphlet. In Faith and Truth, by Conscience and Con

viction, Mr. Tikhomirov served the revolutionary cause only until nearly
jni end of 1880. Since that remote time all that he had was a mere formal
loyally to the banner. But that did not prevent him from writing numerous
Jisquisitions on revolutionary themes, disquisitions which, he says fill
more than 600 pages in small type.
*
SPEECH AT THE INTERNATIONAL W O R K E R S
SOCIALIST CONGRESS IN PARIS
(J u ly 14-21, 1889)
[FIRST VERSION]
It may seem strange for you to see at this workers' congress
representatives of R ussiaa country where the working-class
movement is still unfortunately extremely weak. We think that
revolutionary Russia must not in any case remain aloof from
the modern socialist movement in Europe, but that, on the con
trary, her present closer contact w ith it w ill be of great advantage
to the cause of the world proletariat. You all know the role played
by Russian absolutism in the history of Western Europe. The
Russian tsars have been crowned gendarmes who regarded it as
their sacred duty to defend and support European reaction from
Prussia to Ita ly and Spain. It would be wasting words to speak
here of the role which Nicholas, for example, played in 1848
and 1849; it is as clear as daylight that the fall of Russian absolut
ism would mean the trium ph of the international revolutionary
movement in the whole of Europe. The only question is: what
conditions are necessary for the revolutionary movement in
Russia to be victorious over Russian absolutism?
Certain writers, who have more im agination than knowledge
of social and economic matters, depict Russia as a country sim i
lar to China and whose economic structure has nothing in com
mon w ith that of the West. That is completely false. The old
economic foundations of Russia are undergoing a process of
complete disintegration. Our village commune, once so dear
even to certain socialists, but which in reality has been the
m ain buttress of Russian absolutism, is becoming more and more
an instrument in the hands of the rural bourgeoisie for the exploi
tation of the m ajority of the agrarian population. Tho poorer
peasantry are forced to move to the towns and industrial centres,
and simultaneously w ith this, big manufacturing industry is
growing and absorbing the once flourishing handicrafts industry
in the villages. Incited by the need for money our autocratic
government is devoting all its energies to the development of
capitalism in Russia. We socialists can only be satisfied with
this aspect of its activity, because it is thus digging its own
SPEECH AT THE IN T E RN A T IO N A L W O R K E R S CONGRESS 399
grave. The proletariat which is being formed as a result of the

disintegration of the village commune w ill strike a mortal blow
at the autocracy. If, in spite of the heroic efforts of the Russian
revolutionaries, the autocracy is not yet defeated in Russia,
the explanation is that the revolutionaries are isolated from the
masses of the people. The forces and the self-sacrifice of our revo
lutionary ideologists may be sufficient for the fight against the tsar
as an in d iv id u a l, but they are insufficient for a victory over
tsarism as a political system. The task of our revolutionary
intelligentsia therefore comes, in the opinion of the Russian
Social-Democrats, to the following: they must adopt the views
of modern scientific socialism, spread them among the workers,
and w ith the help of the workers, storm the stronghold of autoc
racy. The revolutionary movement in Russia can irium p h only
ns the revolutionary movement of the workers. There is not and
cannot be any other way out for us!
|SECOND VERS ION|

Citizens,
As the list of speakers is a long one and the congress can there
fore give them only a short time for their reports on the economic
and political situation in the countries they represent, I shall
endeavour to make my account of the working-class movement
in Russia as short as possible.
It may seem strange for you to see at this congress representa
tives of Russiaa country where the working-class movement
is far from being as developed as in West European countries.
But we Russian Social-Democrats think that revolutionary Bussia
must not in any case remain aloof from the rest of working-class
and socialist Europe; on the contrary, her present closer con
tact w ith it w ill be of great advantage to the world socialist
movement.
You a ll know the infamous role that Russian absolutism has
been playing up to this very day in the history of Western Europe.
The Russian tsars have been crowned gendarmes who regarded
it as their sacred duty to support reaction in all countries from
Prussia to Ita ly and Spain.
It would be wasting words to speak here of the role which
the Emperor Nicholas, of woeful memory, played in the wellknown events of 1848.
That is why the trium ph of the revolutionary movement in
Russia would be a trium ph for the European workers.
It is therefore im portant to elucidate how and on what con
ditions this trium ph of the revolutionary movement is possible
ln Russia.
400
G. P LEK H A N O V
I t is possible, citizenswe are firmly confident of th is only

on condition that the Russian revolutionaries succeed in winning
the sympathy of the people themselves.
And as long as our movement remains a movement of ideolog
ists and student youth, it may, perhaps, be dangerous for the
tsar personally, but it w ill present no danger for tsarism as a polit
ical system.
In order to overthrow and finally destroy tsarism, we must
rely on a more revolutionary element than student youth, and
this element, which exists in Russia, is the class of the proletar
ians, a class which is revolutionary by reason of its distressing
economic situation, revolutionary in its very essence.
Some economists who have too ardent an im agination and more
good w ill than solid knowledge, depict Russia as a kind of Euro
pean China, whose economic structure has nothing in common with
that of Western Europe. That is utterly false. The old economic
foundations of Russia are now undergoing a process of complete
disintegration. Our village commune about which so much lias
been said even in the socialist press, but which in fact has been
the buttress of Russian absolutismthis much praised commune
is becoming more and more an instrument of capitalist exploita
tion in the hands of the rich peasants, while the poor are abandon
ing the countryside and going to the big towns and industrial
centres. A t the same time big m anufacturing industry is growing
and absorbing the once flourishing handicrafts industry in the
villages.
The autocratic government is intensifying this situation with
all its m ight and thus prom oting the development of capitalism
in Russia. We socialists and revolutionaries can only be satisfied
w ith this aspect of its activity, for it is thus preparing its own
downfall.
The industrial proletariat, whose consciousness is being aroused,
w ill strike a mortal blow at the autocracy and then you w ill see
its direct representatives at your congresses alongside the delegates
of the more advanced countries.
For the time being our task is to defend w ith you the cause
of international socialism, to spread by a ll means the teachings
of Social-Democracy among the Russian workers and to lead
them in storming the stronghold of autocracy.
In conclusion I repeatand I insist on this im portant point:
the revolutionary movement in Russia w ill trium ph only aS
a working-class movement or else it w ill never trium ph!
FOR THE SIXTIETH ANNIVERSARY

OF HEGELS DEATH
Sixty years ago, on November 14, 1831, died a man who w ill
indisputably and always occupy one of the very first places in
the history of thought. N ot one of the sciences which the French
call sciences morales et politiques has remained unaffected
by the powerful and hig h ly fru itfu l influence of Hegels genius.
Dialectics, logic, history, law , aesthetics, the history of philos
ophy and the history of religion have a ll assumed a new counte
nance thanks to the impulse received from Hegel.
Hegel's philosophy formed and steeled the th in k in g of men
like Strauss, Bruno Bauer, Feuerbach, Fischer, Hans, Lassalle,
and finally Engels and Marx. D uring his life Hegel enjoyed
immense, world-wide fame; after his death, in the thirties, the
almost universal attraction of his philosophy became still more
notable; but then came a quick reaction: Hegel began to be treat
ed, to quote Marx, just as the honest Mendelssohn treated Spinoza
in the time of Lessing, i.e., like a dead dog . 271 Interest in his
philosophy disappeared altogether among the educated sections,
and in the world of science it weakened to such a degree that
so far no specialist in the history of philosophy has thought
of determining and pointing out the remaining value of Hegels
philosophy in the various branches of science that it deals w ith.
Below we shall see to a certain extent the explanation of this
attitude towards Hegel; let us now merely note that a revival
of interest in his philosophy, and particularly his philosophy
of history, can be expected in a near enough future. The enormous
success of the working-class movement, compelling the so-called
educated classes to take an interest in the theory under whos<
banner that movement is proceeding, w ill force those classei
also to show interest in the historical origin of that theory.
And once they show an interest in this, they w ill soon comi
to Hegel, who w ill thus be transformed in their eyes from tlv
Philosopher of the Restoration into the founder of the mos
Progressive ideas of today.
*6- 01329
402
G. P LE K H A N O V
That is why we can foretell that although there w ill be a revival

of interest in Hegel among the educated classes, they w ill never
adopt towards him the attitude of profound sym pathy that he was
the object of sixty years ago in the countries of German culture,
On the contrary, bourgeois scientists w ill undertake a feverish
critical revision of Hegels philosophy and m any doctors
diplomas w ill be obtained fighting the late professors extremes
and arbitrary logic.
N aturally, sciences only gain from that critical revision
w ill be that the learned defenders of the capitalist system will
repeatedly display their theoretical worthlessness, just as they
have already shown it in the field of politics. B u t not without
reason it is said that it is always useful to dig around the roots
of truth . The revival of interest in Hegel's philosophy w ill give
im p artia l people an opportunity to study his works independently,
and this w ill be a very fruitful though not easy exercise for their
minds. Those who really wish for knowledge w ill learn very much
from Hegel.
In tho present essay we wish to attem pt an appraisal of the
philosophico-historical views of the great German thinker. This
has already been done in the m ain lines by the hand of a master
in Engels articles Ludwig Feuerbach und der Ausgang der klassischen deutschen Philosophic , which were printed in Neue Zeit272
and then published as a separate booklet. B ut we th in k that these
views of Hegel fully deserve more detailed study.
Hegels importance in the social sciences is determined first
and foremost by the fact that he considered all their phenomena
from the standpoint of the process des Werdens (of coming into
being), i.e., from the standpoint of their appearance and their
disappearance. I t may seem to many people that this was not
a very great merit, as one cannot, apparently, consider social
phenomena in any other way. But firstly, this standpoint, we
shall see, is even today far from being understood by many of
those who term themselves e v o lu t io n is t s secondly, during
Hegels tim e, people who studied the social sciences were still
farther from that standpoint. I t is sufficient to remember the
socialists and the economists of those days. The socialists then
considered the bourgeois system as indeed a very harm ful, but
nevertheless entirely accidental product of hum an error. The
economists were enthusiastic over it and could find no words
to express their praise, but they too regarded it as no more than
the fruit of the accidental discovery of truth. Neither the
former nor the latter got any further than this abstract coun
terposition of truth and error, although'the teachings of the social
ists already contained elements of a more correct view of
things.
5u Ijjegels ferijjigJfcem Sabeatafl.

0*n (ft. jSUdjaiurtP.
i8or tetfyiig 3at*n, ant 14. StoBembtr 1831, secTtnb in SJimin, bun
unftieiiig unb f;ir tmmerbar eiiKr bee en>orragenbft<n !J8it$e in her ejd)irf)tt
besi menfc&ii&en fflebanJenS {jefwijerl ifl. Unter ben tffcrtfcfyxfltn, mticfc bit
{frcajofen sciences morales e t politiqoes* nerrnen, giebt tS (tine finjigc, bit
rud}t Bom Senie S } ts tl'g in mcdjtiQet unb )5<tift frudjtfiortr SBrtfe beeinflufit
reorbot retire. 2>ie SDioteKit, bit Sogii bit
b3 Stedjt, bte aeft&etif,
bit efdjid&te ber ^Sjilofoptye *b Sfttligton, tH* bitfe SKiffenftfjaften fjcben.
etnt stue eftolt angwommtn, ban bttsi S&iftcjs, ben i^rten $ e g d gegtbeji
Ijat
SDieSB^tlofop&ieat be
unb
wit Iwutb Stnnrfc, SJruno Baaer, %tatrba4), g t fi j tt , an8,
J . Caffall* unb public (Jitgtli unb 3ft
bei fiebjetten mat $egel
eta in bet ganjen jioiUfirteti SBtit gefeierter 2/enier. 3iwi) feinem lo b e , (m
3tttran n jtoif<$en ben hrt&iger unb Bitrjtjer S W ttt/ nafjm ber fcjt sUjtmftn*
&Rtf)ufiaSmu8 fiir feint SftjUofepfce no^ utel grofeariigtre 3>tmenfUmert an,
2>otauf abtr trot tine iaê Keaftun tin. SKtm begann $egrt fo ja brfxwbdn,
wie am. mit aR&rj in rtben *ber braue Hftenbeiajh^n ju 2ffmg' 3 Kt
ben Sbistoja beljanbelt fp l,
old >bten imbf." a8 jJWereffe ffir
A page from the article For the Sixtieth Anniversary

of Hegels Death
(in the magazine Neue Zeit)
wn C M jor^Toll
lbiroaY ia Hatred. mo% Ih* edyc&ted cUssks, thnL

tJ'Ti toward* him tlio attitu d e o | profound syfopBtlijfi
b jtfe t o ! ^ t y ' y e a r *gv ii
o- .untruv
-f <
COUfirWy, baUfKCoife cior!',<^ Will
** o>m
L:' jyi trtS^X'W*

i f.tu
.l,'i,; J
l^|ftri, tr*tijp5ifc
' iitM'Ofetji
" fr y
r* "<
vw
vtL
i i fcW :,!(i JL.

-tfA! if'
' " *sy.
(Rs^ji 'nt ,&&&

>i#^jbW fa#
'Irf'i
r*#? .ttcME-
,ifm
:.
ttejj yvT-Vfi
jcJw c m
t*
rpottfTsW twft: *lp|W 4tt>js*39

Tl tl>
...
-JW
.ilwwi
iy, t m 9 t ik ^ p m
to erea
ftWfifttood Jby ba
wrw. wwmwiy|
,/ffri^ 'rto /ttw ; MOttttllv,
Nrfeo Urm
tbcmwlvt ^vr,l--HcnUUn\
. _
Ri \
- -
V j Ubip , people who jttuaad the social sefeflp_

w
thal stA^}|inW It Is w tm BBfcto j^nomlK

o i tbow
u ,
w
.......... rg lrt> , Wo t
^STBUttjaft
IC.;; ! $ 1 0 0 1
gnier iio c
a* ^
oVl
i.K~.â.T5 a i^ ~ .y g .
routitlnc-d ^^^H iK EBl: a avosp crract \
FOR THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L S DEATH 405
In Hegels eyes this abstract cotinterposition of truth and

error was one of those absurdities into which rational" thought
often falls. Jean-Baptiste Say considered it useless t.o study the
history of political economy because before Adam Sm ith all econ
omists professed erroneous theories. For Hegel, philosophy
was nothing more than the intellectual expression of its lime.
Each philosophy that has been surpassed at a particular time
was the truth for its time, and if for only that reason Hegel could
n o t cast aside the previous philosophical systems as old and
useless rubbish. On the contrary, as he himself said, the most,
recent philosophy is the result of all preceding philosophies and
must therefore contain the principles of them all" (Enzyklopddie,
13). Underlying such a view of the history of philosophy there
was of course the purely idealist consideration that the leader
of this spiritual work (i.e., the work of philosophical thought
G.P.) is the single living spirit, whose thinking nature consists
in coming to self-consciousness, and, having attained it, to rise
immediately above the stage reached and go further. (Ibid.)
But the most consistent materialist w ill not refuse to adm it
that each particular philosophical system is no more than the
intellectual expression of its tim e.* And if, turning again to
the history of political economy, we ask ourselves which stand
point we must consider it from at present, wo shall immediately
see how much nearer wo are to Hegel than to Say. For instance,
from Say's standpoint, i.e., from the standpoint of the abstract
counterposition of truth and error, the mercantile system or
even the system of the physiocrats must, and indeed did, appear
as no more than an absurdity which accidentally found its way
into man's head. But we now know to what extent each of the
systems mentioned was the necessary product of its time.
W ith regard to the special attention paid by the Monetary
and Mercantile systems to international trade and to in divid u al
branches of national labour that lead directly to international
trade, which are regarded by them as the only real source of
wealth or of money, one has to remember that in those times
national production was for the most part still carried on w ithin
the framework* of feudal forms and served as the immediate
source of subsistence for the producers themselves. Most products
did not becomo commodities; they were accordingly neither
converted into money nor entered at all into the general process
of the social metabolism, hence they did not appear as materialisa
tion of universal abstract labour and did not indeed constitute
bourgeois wealth.... It was consistent w ith the rudimentary stage
of bourgeois production that those misunderstood prophets
*
Of course, it can be, and always is, only tho reflection of a certain
aspect of its time. But that does not affect the substance of the matter.
should have clung to the solid, palpable and glittering form

of exchange-value, to exchango-value in the form of the universal
commodity
as distinct from all particular commodities.
(Karl Marx, Zur K ritik der politischen Oekonomie, Berlin, 1859
S. 138-39.) Marx explains the physiocrats disputes w ith their
opponents as a dispute about which kind of labour creates surplus-value. (Ibid ., S. 35.) Was not this question most timely"
for the bourgeoisie, who wero then preparing to become every
thing?
But not only philosophy appaars lo Hegel as the natural ami
necessary product of its time; he takes the same view of religion
and law. And it must also be noted that philosophy, law. religion,
art, and even technology (technische Geschicklichkeit) are,
in Hegels opinion, closely interrelated: only w ith a particular
religion can a particular form of state exist, as also in that partic
ular state a particular philosophy and a particular art.* This
again may seem somewhat triv ial: who does not know that all
aspects and manifestations of the peoples life are closely inter
linked? Every schoolboy knows that now. But Hegel did not
understand this interrelation of the different aspects and manifes
tations of the peoples life as many educated people and school
boys still understand it now. They see this link as a simple
interaction of the aspects and manifestations referred to, and
at that, first, this interaction itself remains completely unex
plained, and secondly, and thisisthe main th in g they complete
ly forget that there must be one common source out of which
all these aspects and manifestations that are interrelated arise.
Thus, this system of interaction proves to be deprived of all
foundation, to be hanging in the air; law influences religion,
religion influences law, and each of them and both together
influence philosophy and art, which in turn, affecting each other,
also affect law, religion, and so on. That is indeed what universal
wisdom tells us. Let us assume that we may be satisfied with
such an exposition of tho matter for each particular period. But.
then the question still remains: what determined the historical
development of religion, philosophy, art, law, etc., down to the
present epoch?
This question is usually answered by referring to the same
interaction, which thus finally ceases to explain anything; or
else some accidental causes are pointed out which influence one
aspect or other of the peoples life but have nothing whatever
in common; or, finally, the whole matter is reduced lo subjective
logic. It is said, for instance, that Fichtes system of philosophy
derived logically from K a n ts, Schellings flowed logically from
* Phllosophie der Geschichte, dritte Auflage, Berlin, 1848, Einleitung, S.6(5.
FPU THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L S DEATH 407
ami Hegels from Schellings. The succession of schools

art is also logically explained in exactly the same way.
D o u b t l e s s there is a measure of truth in this. The trouble is
tliat. it explains nothing at all. We know that in some cases the
tr a n s itio n
from one philosophical system to another or from
o n e school in art to another takes place very rapidly, in a few
years, but in other cases it requires whole centuries. How is
this difference explained? The logical filiation of ideas does not
explain it at all. Neither do references made by the generally
known classical wisdom to interaction and accidental causes.
But educated people are not embarrassed by this. Having
uttered profound things about the interaction of various aspects
of peoples life, they are satisfied w ith this manifestation of
their own profoundness of thought and cease to thin k at the very
place where strict scientific thought first comes into its own. llegel
was as far from such profoundness of thought as heaven from
earth. To be satisfied w ith considering a particular content
from the standpoint of interaction, he says, ...is an extremely
poor method in the sense of understanding; then one deals merely
with the plain fact and the demand for mediation which is manifest
when it is a question of finding the causal link remains unsatisfied.
The defect of the method which consists in considering phenom
ena from the standpoint of interaclion lies in the fact that the
relation of interaction, instead of serving as an equivalent of the
concept, must itself be understood; this is achieved by both
interacting aspects being acknowledged as moments in some
third, higher one, and nol being taken as im m ediately given. *
This means that speaking, for instance, of.the various aspects of
peoples life, we must not be satisfied w ith references to their
interaction, but must see their explanation in something new,
higher , i.e., in what determines their very existence as well
as the possibility of their interaction.
Where must this new, higher thing be sought?
Hegel answers that it must be sought in the qualities of the
peoples spirit. That is quite logical from his point of view.
For him the whole of history is nothing but the exposition and
embodiment of the universal spirit". The movement of the univer
sal spirit is accomplished by stages. Each stage being differ
ent from the others, has its own definite principle. Such a prin
ciple in history is ... a special spirit of the people. The qualities
if the spirit of the people are the concrete expression of all aspects
of the peoples consciousness and w ill, of the whole of their reality;
they place their im p rint on the peoples religion, their political
constitution, their m orality, their system of law, their customs
F ic h te 's
j,i
* Enzyklopadie, 156, Zusatz.
408
G. P LEK H A N O V
and also their science, art, and technical skill. A ll these particu|ar
qualities are to be explained by the universal qualities, and viCt*
versa, the universal qualities may be explained by the particulars
of the life of the people provided by history.*
N othing is easier than to make here the b rillia n t discovery
that Hegels view of world history that we have quoted is imbued
w ith the purest idealism. That im m ediately strikes, as Gogol
says, even anybody who did not study in a seminary. In just
the same way there is nothing easier than to lim it ones criticism
of Hegels philosophy of history to scornfully shrugging one's
shoulders at its extreme idealism. This is done often enough by
people who are incapable of any consistent thin king , people who
are dissatisfied w ith the materialists because they are materialists,
and w ith the idealists because they are idealists and are extremely
satisfied w ith themselves because they suppose their own outlook
to be free from any extremes, whereas in reality it is s i m p l y
a completely undigested and completely indigestible mish-mash
of idealism and materialism. In any case, Hegels philosophy has
Ihe undeniable merit that it does not contain a trace of eclecticism.
And if its erroneous idealistic basis does really make itself felt loo
often, if it places too narrow lim its on the movement of the great,
m ans genius, that very circumstance must force us to pay the
utmost attention to Hegels philosophy; for it is precisely what
makes his philosophy supremely instructive. Hegels idealist
philosophy itself contains the very best, the most irrefutable
proof of the inconsistency of idealism. B ut at the same time it
teaches us consistency in thought, and whoever goes through
its stern school w ith love and attention w ill acquire for ever
a salutary repugnance for eclectical mish-mash....
If we now know that world history is not at all the exposi
tion and embodiment of the universal spirit, that still does
not mean that we may be satisfied w ith the current considerations
on the theme that the political structure of every given people
influences their morals, that their morals influence the con
stitution, and so on. We must agree w ith Hegel that both morals
*
[...H ier haben wir nur dieses aufzunehmen, daC jede Stufe als verschiedon von der anderen ihr bestimmtes eigenthiimliches Princip hat.
Solches Princip ist in dor Geschichte Bestimmtheit des Geistesein besonderer Volksgeist. In dieser driickt er als concret alle Seiten seines BewuBtseyns
und Wollens, seiner ganzen W irklichkeit aus; sie ist das gemeinschaftliche
Geprage seiner Religion, seiner politischen Verfassung, seiner Sittlichkeit,
seines Rechtssysteras, seiner Sitten, auch seiner Wissenschaft, Kunst und
technischen Geschicklichkeit. Diese speciellen Eigenthiimlichkeiten siud
aus jener allgemeinen Eigenthiimlichkeit, dem besonderen Principe eines
Volkes zu versehen, sowie umgekehrt aus dem in der Geschichte vorliegenden
factischen Detail jenes Allgemeine der Besonderheit herauszufinden ist....)
Philosophie der Geschichte, Einleitung, S. 79.
and political constitution proceed from a common source. W hat

that source actually is we are shown by the modern materialist
explanation of history, about which we shall for the present,
merely note that Messrs. the eclecticshave just the samo difficulty
in understanding it as in penetrating the secret of Hegels idealis
tic views, which are diam etrically opposed to it.
Every time Hegel undertakes to give a characteristic of any
great people in history he displays versatile knowledge and
enormous penetration; he gives truly b rillia n t and at the same
time profoundly instructive characteristics, scattering in passing
a number of valuable remarks on the various aspects of history
of the people in question. lie carries you away, and you are pre
pared to forget that you are dealing w ith an idealist, you are
ready to adm it that ho really die Geschichte n im m l, wie sie ist ,
that Hegel strictly follows his rule: to remain on historical,
empirical ground. But what does Hegel need that historical,
empirical ground for? To determine the quality of the spirit of the
people in question. The spirit of a particular people is, as we
already know, but a stage in the universal spirit's development;
and the qualities of the latter are not brought out by studying
universal history; the concept of it is brought into that study
as a ready-made one, a concept which is complete in all respects.
Here is what arises from this; as long as history does not contradict
the concept of the universal spirit, and the laws of the develop
ment of that spirit, it is taken as i l is. Hegel remains on his
torical, empirical grounds. But when history, w ithout exactly
contradicting the laws of the development of Ihe universal
spirit, sim ply leaves the track of that supposed development
and turns out. to be something not. foreseen by Hegels logic,
it receives no attention. Such an attitude to history apparently
should have saved Hegel at least from contradicting himself.
In actual fact it did not. Hegel is far from being free from contra
dictions. Here is a sufficiently vivid example. In the following
lines Hegel speaks of the religious concepts of the Indians.
Love, heaven, in brief, everything spiritual, on tho one hand,
passes through the In d ia n s im agination, but, on the other hand,
what he thinks is just as present .to his senses and he plunges ...
into the natural. Thus religious objects are either horrible forms
created by art, or natural things. Every bird, every ape, is the
god of the present, an absolutely universal being. For the Indian
is unable to grasp an object in its rational definition, since this
requires reflection.*
On the basis of this characteristic, Hegel considers animal
worship a natural consequence of the fact that the spirit of the
* P hilosophic der Geschichte, S.
192, 193.
G. PLEK H A N O V
410
In d ia n people is one of the lower stages in the development of the

universal spirit. The ancient Persians, who deified light and also
the sun, the moon and live other heavenly bodies", which they
acknowledged to be venerable images of Ormuzd, are placed
higher than the Indians by Ilegel. But see what the same ITegel
says of anim al worship among the ancient Egyptians.
The cult (of the Egyptians G .l5.) consists m ainly of animal
worship__ Zoolatry is repulsive to us; we can accustom ourselves
to praying to heaven, but to worship animals is alien to us....
And yet it is certain that the peoples who worship the sun and
other heavenly bodies are in no way higher than those who worship
animals; on the contrary, for in the animal world the Egyptians
saw the Interior and the Incomprehensible....*
The same anim al worship is given a completely different signifi
cance in Hegel's opinion according as he is dealing w ith the
Indians or the Egyptians. W hy this? Can the Indians have wor
shipped anim als in a different way from the Egyptians? No, it
is sim ply that the spirit of the Egyptian people is a transition"
to that of the Greeks and occupies a comparatively higher stage
in Hegel's classification; that is why Hegel is reluctant to testify
that it has weaknesses of which he has convicted the spirit of the
Indian people, which ho places at a lower stage. S im ilarly Ilegel
adopts quite a different attitude to castes according as he comes
across them in India or in Egypt. The Indian castes arise from
natural differences, and therefore the personality in India is
less able to appreciate itself than in China, where there is unen
viable equality of all before the despot. Of the Egyptian castes
we are told that they have not become petrified, but are in
m utual struggle and m utual contact; they often disintegrate
and then appear again. But, if only from what Hegel himself
says about castes in India, it is obvious that in Ind ia too there
was no complete absence of struggle and contact between them.
On this question, as on that of anim al worship, Hegel is obliged
for the sake of a rather arbitrary logical construction to attribute
completely different significance to analogous phenomena of social
life. But that is not all. The Achilles heel of idealism is bared
to us particularly where Hegel is obliged to consider the transfer
of the vortex of the historical movement from one people to an
other, or a change in the interior situation of a particular people.
N aturally, in such cases there arises the question of what causes
such transfers and changes, and Hegel, being an idealist, seeks
the answer in the qualities of the same spirit whose e m b o d i m e n t ,
in his opinion, constitutes history. For instance, he asks himself
* Ibid., S. 258.
for
THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L S DEATH 411
whv ancient Persia declined, whereas India and China still exist.
He prefaces the answer with the following remark:
First of all, we must put aside the prejudice that length of
resistance to disintegration is something excellent: indestructible
m o u n t a i n s are by no means superior to the ephemeral rose....
Of course that preliminary remark must in no case be considered
as the answer. Further we have the following considerations:
In Persia the principle of the free spirit begins in its opposi
tion to naturalness, and Ibis natural existence therefore fades
and falls; the principle of separation from nature is to be found
in tho kingdom of Persia, which is therefore higher than the
worlds which are plunged in the natural.* Thereby the necessity
of progress has come out; the spirit has revealed itself and must
fullil itself. The Chinese has significance only when he is dead,
the Indian kills himself, plunges into Brahma 278 and dies while
living, in complete unconsciousness, or is god by virtue of his
birth,** here there is no change, no progress, for advance is possible
only through the fulfilm ent of the independence of the spirit.
With the light*** of the Persians begins spiritual contemplation,
in which the spirit parts from nature. That is why (.<?/>!) we first
lind|here...that objectness remains free,that is, that the peoples****
are not oppressed, but retain their wealth, their system, their
religion. This was precisely Persias weakness compared with
Greece.*****
In this long disquisition only the very last lines, giving the
internal organisation of the kingdom of Persia as the cause of
the weakness which it manifested in its clashes w ith Greece
only these last lines can be termed an attempt to explain the
historical fact of Persia's fall. But this attempt at an explanation
has little in common with the idealist explanation of history
which Hegel adhered to: the weakness of Persias internal organisa
tion has but a very doubtful connection w ith the light of the
Persians. But where Hegel remains true to idealism, the best
he does is to wrap in an idealist cover the fact requiring an expla
nation. His idealism comes to grief in the same way everywhere.
Take, for instance, Greeces internal disintegration. Greece's
world, according to Hegel, was a world of beauty and splendid
moral m orality.* * * * * * The Greeks were excellent people, pro
foundly devoted to the country and capable of all kinds of self-
*
**
***
***
*****
******
i.e., the Chinese and Indian worlds.

As a brahmin.
Worshipped by the ancient. Persians.
Forming the kingdom of Persia.
Philosophic der Geschlchte, S. 270-71.
We know that Hegel distinguishes between morals and morality.
412
G. P LEK H A N O V
sacrifice. But they accomplished great feats entirely without

reflection.
For the Greek, his nation was a necessity w ithout which lu
could not live. O nly later did the sophists introduce principles;
there appeared subjective reflection, moral self-consciousness, the
teaching that each must act according to his conviction. Then
it was that the internal decay of the splendid moral m orality
of the Greeks mentioned above began; the self-liberation of the
interior world led to the decline of Greece. One of the aspects
of this interior world was thought. Consequently we here find
the interesting and historic phenomenon that the forces of thought
act, incidentally, as principles of decay. This view deserves
attention if only because it is much more profound than the recti
linear views of the Enlighteners, for whom success in thought in
any people must unconditionally and directly lead to progress".
Nevertheless, the question of where this self-liberation of the
interior world came from still remains open. Hegels idealist
philosophy answers that the spirit could only for a short time
remain on the standpoint of splendid moral m orality . But this,
of course, is still not an answer, it is only a translation of the
question into the philosophical language of Hegels idealism.
Hegel himself seems to feel this, and that is why he hastily adds
that the principle of decay revealed itself first of all in external
political development, both in the wars of tho Greek states among
themselves and in the struggle of the different factions w ithin the
cities.* Here we already stand on concrete historical ground.
Tho struggle of the factions w ithin the cities, in Hegels own
words, was the product of Greeces economic development, i.e..
in other words, the struggle between the political parties was but
the expression of the economic contradictions which had arisen
in the Greek cities. B ut if we remember that the Peloponnesian
W a r , 274 too, was, as we see from Thucydides, nothing but a class
struggle that spread to the whole of Greece, we shall conclude
w ithout any difficulty that the causes of the decline of Greece
arc to be found in her economic history.** Thus, Hegel puts us on
the way to tho materialist conception of history, although to him
the class struggle in Greece appears only as a manifestat ion of tin?
principle of decay. Expressing it in the terms used by Ilegel.
we can say that materialism is the truth of idealism. And we con
stantly meet w ith such unexpected things in Hegels philosophy
of history. This greatest of idealists seems to have set himself
the task of clearing the road for m aterialism. When he s p e a k s
about the cities of the Middle Ages he pays tribute to idealism.
* Philosophic der Geschichte, S. 323.
** Lacedaemon besonders wegen der Ungleichheit des Besitzes herimterkam , says Hegel expressly.276
but considers their history, on tho one hand, as the struggle of

(ho burghers against the nobility and tho clergy, and, on the
other, as a struggle between different sections of citizenstho
rich citizens and the common people.* When he speaks about
the Reform ation , 276 he again first reveals to us the secrets of the
universal spirit and then passes the following remark, which
is completely unexpected on the lips of an idealist, about the
spread of protestantism : 277
In Austria, in Bavaria and in Bohemia, the Reformation had
already achieved great success, and although it is said: when
truth has once permeated minds it can never bo torn away from
them, il was nevertheless suppressed hero by fprce of arms, by
cunning or persuasion. The Slav nations were agrarian peoples
(llcgel's italics). But this condition carries with it the relationship
of master and slave. In agriculture the impulse of nature is over
whelming, human industry and subjective activity are less to
bo found in this work. T hai is why the Slavs were slower and bad
greater difficulty in arriving at the basic feeling of the subjective
ego, to consciousness of what is universal, ... and they were unable
to take part in the rising freedom.**
By these words Ilegel tells us outright that tho explanation
of the religious views and all tho emancipation movements that
arise among a particular people must be sought in that peoples
economic activity. But even that is not enough. The state which,
according to Hegel's idealist explanation, is the embodiment
of the moral idea, of tho moral spirit, as the obvious w ill, clear
and substantial to itself, which thinks itself and knows itself
and fulfils itself insofar as it thinks and knows itse lf...,*** in
Ilegel the state itself is nothing more than the product of economic
development.
A real state and a real state government appear only when
there is already a difference between the estates, when wealth
and poverty become very great and there sets in a condition in
which a great m ajority can no longer satisfy their needs as they
are accustomed to.****
In exactly the same way, the historical origin of marriage
in Hegel is closely connected w ith the economic history of mankind.
The true beginning, and the first institution, of the state have
correctly been attributed to the introduction of agriculture and
*
Hegel notes: Examining this troubled and changing internal lif
the cities, the constant mutual struggle of the factions, we are surprised
to see that, on the other hand, industry was highly flourishing there, just
??.wa.s trade by land and sea. The same principle of vitality which fed on
'his internal incitement gave rise to that prosperity.
** Philosophic der Geschichte, S. 506.
*** Philosophie des Rechts, 257.
**** Philosophie der Geschichte, Einleitung, S. 106.
414
G. PLEK HA NO V
also of marriage, since the principle gives rise to exclusive private

ownership, and the wandering life of the savage seeking subsistence
in that wandering is led back to the tra n q u illity of private right
and the guaranteed satisfaction of requirements, w ith which is
linked the restriction of sexual love to m atrim ony, and hence tho
extension of this union to a lasting, in itself universal, union, of
the craving for care of the fam ily and for the possession of family
property."*
J
^ '
We could quote many more examples of this kind, but as spare
does not allow this, we shall coniine ourselves to pointing out
tho significance attributed by Ilegel to the geographical basis
of world history.
Much was written both before and after Hegel about the signifi
cance of the geographical environment in m a n s historical
development. But after him , as well as before him , scientists
often made the mistake of bearing in m ind only the psychological
or even the physiological influence of surrounding nature on man,
completely forgetting its influence on the condition of the social
productive forces and through them on all tho social relations between
people in general, with all their ideological superstructures.**
Hegel avoided this enormous error, if not in details at least in the
general setting of the question. According to him there are three
typical varieties of geographical environment: 1 ) a waterless high
plateau, with great steppes and plains; 2 ) low lands intersected
by great rivers; 3) coastal lands having direct communication
with the sea.
Cattle-rearing is dominant in the first, agriculture in the second,
trade and the crafts in tho third. The social relations of the inhab
itants of these areas assume various characters according to these
basic differences. The people inhabiting the high plateaux, the
Mongols, for instance, lead a patriarchal nomadic life and have
no history in the proper sense of the word. O nly occasionally,
assembling in great numbers, they swoop like a storm on the
civilised countries leaving desolation and destruction in their
wake.*** C ultural life begins in the]llowlands, which owe their
*
Philosophie des Rechts, 203, Anmerkung. It goes without saying
that, considering the state of science at the time, Hegels view of the original
history of the family and property could not be distinguished by groat clar
ity; the important thing is that he already feels where the key to that
history should be sought.
** Montesquieu in his Esprit des lois not unfrequently dwelt on the
influence of nature on mans physiology. He tries to explain many historical
phenomena by such influence.278
*** The high plateaux lead to narrow valleys, inhabited by quiet moun
tain people, shepherds who engage in land cultivation as well, like the
Swiss' , says Hegel. There are such peoples in Asia too, but they have less
importance in general.
fertility to tho rivers. Such a lowland we find in China, In d ia ...,

B a b y l o n . . . and Egypt. Great e m p i r e s a r i s e in these lands and
great states are formed there. For a g r i c u l t u r e , w h i c h is dom inant
here as the first source of subsistence for individuals, is bound
by the regularity of the seasons, b y tho regular occupations corre
sponding to them; here landed property and tho relationships of
r i g h t corresponding to t h e m have their b e g i n n i n g .270 But the
agricultural peoples who live in the lowlands are distinguished
by greater sluggishness, i m m o b i l i t y and segregation; t h e y are
u n a b l e to use for their m utual relationships the means that nature
places at their disposal. This defect does not exist in peoples in
a coastal country. The sea does not separate peoples, il unites
t h e m . That is why p r e c i s e l y in t h e coastal countries culture,
and w ith it the development of h u m a n consciousness, reacl.es its
highest development. There is no need to look far for examples,
it is sufficient to point to ancient Greece.*
Perhaps the reader knows L. Mechnikovs book La civilisation
et les grands fleuves historiques,280 which appeared in 1889. The
author has undeniable deviations towards idealism, but in general
he adheres to tho m aterialist standpoint. W ell? This materialist's
view of the historical significance of the geographical environment
agrees almost entirely w ith thal of the idealist Ilegel, although
Mechnikov would probably be very surprised to hear of such
an affinity.
Hegel also explains, in part, the rise of inequality among the
more or less prim itive societies by the influence of geographical
environment. Thus, he pointed out that in the A ttica of before
Solon's time,281 the differences between estates (by estates he
means the various more or less well-to-do sections of the popula
tion: the inhabitants of the plains, those of the m ountains, and
those of the coastal areas G .P .) were based on differences in the
localities. And there is no doubt that local differences and the
occupations which varied w ith them must have had great influence
on the economic development of prim itive societies. Unfortunately,
this aspect of the matter is far from being always taken into
consideration by modern investigators.
It is improbable that Hegel busied himself much w ith political
economy, but here, too, as in many other fields, his genius helped
him to grasp the most characteristic and essential aspect of
phenomena. Hegel understood more clearly than all economists
pf his time, not excepting even Ricardo, that in a society which
is based on private property, the growth of wealth, on the one
hand, is inevitably accompanied by the growth of poverty, on
the other. He says this expressly in his Philosophie der Geschichte
Philosophie
der
Geschichte,
Einleitung.
416
G. P LE K H A N O V
and also particularly in Philosophie des Rechts. To use his words,

this dialectics, meaning a lowering of the liv in g standard of the
m ajority of the population as a result of which they can no
longer satisfy their requirements correctly, and which concentrates
wealth in comparatively few hands, must necessarily lead to
a situation in which civil society, despite the surplus of wealth,
is not rich enough, i.e., has no sufficient means to do away with
tho excess of poverty and the dregs of the population (des Pobels).*
The result is that civil society** finds itself forced to emerge
from its own lim its and to seek new markets, to turn to world
trade and colonisation. Of all Hegels contemporaries only Fourier
distinguished himself by a sim ilar clarity of views and good
understanding of the dialectics of bourgeois economic relations,
The reader has probably noted that to Hegel the proletariat
is no more than the Pobel , incapable of using the spiritual
advantages of civil society. Hegel did not suspect to what degree
the modern proletariat differed from tho proletariat of the ancient
world, say, at any rate, from the Rom an proletariat; he did not
know that in modern society the yoke weighing down the working
class in fa llib ly gives rise to counteraction from that class, and
that in modern society the proletariat is destined considerably
to outstrip the bourgeoisie intellectually. Neither, of course, did
the utopian socialists know this; for them too tho proletariat was
no more than the Pobel, worthy of all kinds of sympathy but
incapable of any initiative. O nly scientific socialism was able
to understand the great historical significance of the modern
proletariat.
Let us resume what we have said. As an idealist, Hegel could
not regard history otherwise than from the idealist standpoint;
he made use of all the powers of his genuis,all the gigantic resources
of his dialectics, to give at least some scientific character
to the idealistic conception of history. H is attem pt proved vain.
He himself seemed dissatisfied w ith the results he had achieved
and he was often obliged to come down from the m isty heights
of idealism to the concrete ground of economic relationships.
Every time he turned to it, economics freed him from the shallows
into which his idealism had led him. Economic development turned
out to be the prius determining the whole course of history.
This determined the subsequent orientation of science. The
transition to materialism which took place after Hegels death
could not be a simple return to the naive metaphysical materialism
of the eighteenth century. In the sphere which interests us here,
i.e., in the explanation of history, materialism had to turn first
*
Philosophie der Geschichte, S. 285; Philosophie des Rechts, 243.
** He is here referring mainly to England.
iiud foremost to economics. To act otherwise would have meant

not progress, but retrogression compared with Hegel's philosophy
of history
The materialist conception of nature is still not the materialist
co nc e p tio n of history. The materialists of the last century saw
history with the eyes of idealists and very naive idealists at that.
Insofar as they dealt w ith the history of hum an societies, they
tried to explain it by the history of thought. For them the remark
able proposition of Anaxagoras that reason (Nus) governs the
world" was reduced to the proposition that human judgement
governs history. The sad pages in human history they put down
to mistakes of judgement. If the population of a pertain country
patiently suffers the yoke of despotism, this is only because it
has not yet understood the advantages of freedom. If it is super
stitious it is because it is deceived by the priests who thought
out religion for their own advantages. If hum anity suffers from
wars the reason is that it is not yet able to understand how detri
mental they are. And so for everything. The progress of ideas
depends on the progress nf t h i n g s said the remarkable thinker,
Jean-Baptiste Vico, at the beginning of the last century. The
materialists thought just the opposite: the progress of things in
society is determined by the progress of ideas and the latter is
determined by ...w ell, say, the rules of formal logic and
accumulation of knowledge.
Hegels absolute idealism was very far from the naive ideal
ism of the thinkers of the Enlightenment. When Hegel repeated
with Anaxagoras that reason governs the world, on his lips that
did not at all mean that the wrorld is governed by the thought
of man. Nature is a system of reason, but that does not mean
that nature is endowed w ith consciousness. The movement of
tho solar system takes place according to im m utable laws; these
laws are the reason of that system, but neither the sun nor the
planets which gravitate around it according to these laws have
any consciousness of doing so.*
Man is endowed w ith consciousness; he sets a definite purpose
for his actions; but it does not follow from this that history pro
ceeds as people wish it to. The result of every act of man always
has an unforeseen side and it is precisely this side that often,
or more correctly nearly always, constitutes the most substantial
acquisition of history, and it is this side that leads to the realisa
tion of the universal spirit.
In world history man's actions result in something quite
different from what he purposes or intends ; he fulfils his own
interests but thereby something more is brought into being, which
*
27-01329
Philosophie der Geschichte, S.
15-16.
418
G. P LE K H A N O V
is, adm ittedly, contained therein, bul was not in his consciousness
or his intention.* States, peoples and individuals pursue Iheir
own private interests, their particular aims.
From this standpoint they are undeniably conscious, thinking
agents. But, consciously pursuing their own private aims (which
generally are also permeated with definite universal aspirations
to what is good and right), they unconsciously accomplish the
aims of the universal spirit.
Caesar aimed at autocracy in Rome, that was his personal
aim; but autocracy was a l that time a historical necessity; hence*
in accomplishing his personal aim, Caesar served the universal
spirit. In this sense we can say that historical figures, and also
whole peoples are blind instruments of the spirit. It forces them
to work for it by holding out to them the bait of their private
aims and urging them on with the spur of passion, w ithout which
nothing great is done in history.
In relation to people there is here no mysticism of the uncon
scious". Peoples actions are necessarily reflected in their heads,
but it is not this reflection that determines the movement of
history. The progress of things is not determined by the progress
of ideas but by something outside and independent of m ans w ill
and hidden from human consciousness.
The accident of human arbitrariness and human prudence gives
place to conformity to law, i.e., consequently, to necessity. In this
lies the unquestionable superiority of absolute idealism compared
with the naive idealism of the French thinkers of the Enlighten
ment. Absolute idealism is to this latter idealism what monotheism
is to fetishism and magic. Magic leaves no room in nature for
conformity to law; it assumes that the progress of things" can be
disrupted at any moment by the intervention of a magician.
Monotheism attributes to God the establishment of tho laws of
nature, but it acknowledges (al least al the higher stage of its
development when it ceases to be reconciled w ith miracles) that
the progress of things is determined by these once-and-for-allestablished laws. In so doing it gives science a large place.
In just the same way absolute idealism, seeking the explanation
of the movement of hislorv in something which is independent
of human arbitrariness, sets science the task of explaining the
phenomena of history in conformity to laws, and the fulfilment
of this task does away w ith any necessity for the hypothesis of the
spirit which was quite worthless as far as this explanation was
concerned.
If the view of the French materialists of the last century on the
progress of history came to the proposition that human judgement
* Ibid., S. 35.
FOR THE S IXT IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y Ol' H E G E L S DEATH 419
governs history, lheir expectations from the future could be

expressed by saying: from now on everything w ill bo arranged
and put in order by enlightened reason, philosophy. It is remark
able that Ilegel, the absolute idealist, reserved philosophy a far
more modest role.
To speak once more on the precept* of how the world must
be, here philosophy always arrives too late. wo road in the
preface to Philosophie des Remits. As Ihe world thought, it appeared
first at the time when reality had accomplished the process of its
formation and was all complete.... When philosophy paints its
grey things grey, it is a form of life already grown old, and can
no longer be rejuvenated but only known; tho owl of Minerva
only flies out as tw ilight sets in.**
Beyond doubt, Ilegel goes too far here. Completely agreeing
that philosophy cannot revive a decrepit, obsolete social sys
tem, one may all the same ask Ilegel what then prevents it from
showing us of course only roughly the character of the new
social system which is coming to take the place of tho old. Philos
ophy considers phenomena in the process of their appearance.
But this process has two sides: appearance and disappearance.
These two sides can be considered as separate in time. B ut, both
in nature and especially in history the process of appearing is,
at every particular time, a double process: the old is destroyed
and at the same time the new arises out of its ruins. Must this
process of the appearance of the new always remain a mystery
for philosophy? Philosophy" takes cognisance of what is,
and not what should be according to this or that persons opinion.
But what is at each particular time? Precisely the obsolescence
of the old and the birth of the now. If philosophy takes cognisance
only of the obsolescent old, its cognisance is one-sided, and philos
ophy is unable to fulfil Ihe task of knowing what is. But this
contradicts Hegels assurance of the omnipotence of cognisant
reason.
Modern materialism knows not such extreme. On the basis of
what is and is becoming obsolete it can judge of what is coming
info being. But we must not forget that our conception of what is
coming into being differs essentially from the conception of being
to be (sein sollendeu), against which Ilegel directed the words we
have quoted from him on tho owl of Minerva. For us, what
is coming into being is the necessary result of what is becoming
obsolete. If we know that such a thing, and no other is coming
into being, we are indebted for this to the objective process
of social development, which prepares us to know what is
** Philosophie des Rechts, S. X X III- X IV .
27*
420
G. P LEKHANOV
coming into being. We do not opposo our thought lo the being

around us.
But those whom Hegel argued w ith did not consider the matter
that way. They imagined that thought could change the natural
course of development of being as it wished. Therefore they did
not find it necessary to study its course or take it into considera
tion. Their idea of what was to be was based not on the study of
reality around them but on their reasoning about the just and
normal social system they had at a particular time. This reasoning
was prompted by nothing but the reality around them (chiefly
its negative side). To rely on such reasoning meant in essence
to be governed by the directions of that same reality but accepted
indiscrim inately w ithout any attempts at checking them by
studying the reality which prompted them. I t was like trying
to get to know a thing by looking not straight at it, but at its
reflection in a convex mirror. Mistakes and disappointments
were inevitable. And the more people forgot that their ideas of
what was to be originated in the reality surrounding them,
the more they believed that, equipped w ith these ideas, they
could treat reality as it occurred to them, the greater was the
distance separating what they aspired to and what they attained.
How far modern bourgeois society is from the kingdom of reason
which the French thinkers of the Enlightenm ent dreamed of!
Ignoring reality, paople could not free themselves from the opera
tion of its laws; they only deprived themselves of the possibility
to foresee the working of those laws and to use them for their
own aims. That was precisely why their aims were unattainable.
To adopt the standpoint of the thinkers of the Enlightenment
meant to go no farther than the abstract, opposition between
freedom and necessity.
It seems at first sight that if necessity predominates in history
there is no room in it for the free activity of man. This enormous
mistake was corrected by German idealist philosophy. Schelling
had already pointed out that in the correct view of the matter
freedom is necessity, necessity is freedom.* Hegel finally solved
*
Schelling notes that freedom is inconceivable without necessity.
Denn wenn keine Aufopferung moglich ist ohne die tlberzeugung, dass
die Gattung, zu der man gehort, nie aufhoren konne fortzuschreiten, wie ist
denn diese 'C'berzeugung moglich, wenn sie einzig und allein auf die Freiheit
gebaut ist? Es muss hier etwas sein. das hohor ist, denn menschliche Freiheit,
und auf welches allein im Wirken und tlandeln sicher gerochnet werden kann;
ohne welches nio ein Mensch wagen konnte, eine Handlung von g r o s s e n
Folgen zu untcrnehmcn, da selbst die vollkommenste Berec-hnung d e r s e l b e n
durch den Eingriff fremder Freiheit so durchaus gestort werden kann, dass
aus seiner Handlung etwas ganz anderes resultieren kann, als er beabsichtigte.
Die Pflicht selbst kann mir nicht gebieten, in Ansehung der Folgen meiner
Handlungcn ganz ruhig zu sein, s o b a l d sie entschieden hat, wenn nicht mein
FOR THE SIX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L 'S DEATH 421
the antinom y between freedom and necessity. He proved that we

are free only insofar as we know the laws of nature and sociohistorical development and insofar as u-e, submitting to them,
rely upon them. This was a tremendous gain in the field of philos
ophy and also in that of social science a gain which, however,
only modern, dialectical m aterialism has exploited to the
full.
The m aterialist explanation of history presupposes the dia
lectical method of thought. Dialectics was known before Hegel.
Rut Hegel succeeded in m aking use of it as none of his predecessors
had. In the hands of this idealist of genius, dialectics became
a most powerful weapon for the cognizance of everything which
exists. Therefore, Ilegel says, the dialectical constitutes... the
motive soul of the scientific process and is the principle by which
alone the content of science acquires immanent connection and
necessity__ Diversion from abstract rational definitions seems
to our ordinary consciousness a profession of simple prudence
according to the rule: live and let live, whereby everything seems
equally good. B ut the essence of the matter is that what is definite
is not only lim ited from w ithout, but is bound to be destroyed
and to pass over into its opposite by virtue of its own inherent
nature.* As long as Hegel remains true to the dialectical method,
he is a highly progressive thinker. We say that all things (i.e.,
all that is finite as such) must be submitted to the judgement of
dialectics and by the very fact we define it as a universal, in v in
cible force, which must destroy everything, 110 matter how lasting
it may seem. Therefore Hegel is perfectly right when he says
that serious mastery and clear comprehension of dialectics is
a matter of extraordinary importance. The dialectical method
is the most powerful scientific weapon bequeathed by German
idealism to its successor, modern materialism.
However, materialism could not make use of dialectics in its
idealist form. It had first of all to be freed from its mystic wrap
pings.
The greatest of all materialists, a man who was in no way
inferior to Hegel by his genius, the true successor of the great
philosopher, K arl M a rx , said quite rightly of himself that his
method is the complete opposite of Hegel's method. To Hegel,
the life-process of the hum an brain, i.e., the process of th in k irg .
Handcln zwar von mir, d.h. von meiner Freiheit, die Folgen meiner Harnllungen aber, oder das, was sich aus ihnen fur mein ganzcs Geschlecht ent'vickeln wird, gar nicht von meiner Freiheit, sondern von etwas ganz Anderrm
Jjn<l Hoherem abhiingig sintl. System des tranazendentalen Idealism us".
Scbellings Werke, I I I Band, Stuttgart und Augsburg, 1858, S. 595.
* Enzyklop&die, 81 und Zusatz.
422
G. P LEKHANOV
which, under lhe name of the idea, he even transforms into

an independent subject, is the demiurgos of the real world, and
the real world is only tho external, the phenomenal form of the
idea. W ith me, on the contrary, the ideal is nothing else Ilian
the material world reflected by the human m ind, and translated
into forms of thought.*
Thanks to Marx, materialist philosophy has been elevated
to an integral, harmonious and consistent world outlook. We
already know that the materialists of the last century remained
naive idealists in the field of history. But Marx drove that ideal
ism out of its last refuge. Like Hegel, he saw hum an history as
a process conforming lo laws and independent or m ans arbitrar
iness; like Ilegel, he considered all phenomena in the process of
their appearance and their disappearance; like Hegel, he was
not satisfied with barren metaphysical explanation of historical
phenomena, and lastly, like Hegel, he endeavoured to trace to
a universal and single source all the acting and interacting forces
of social life. But he found that source not in the absolute spirit,
but in the same economic development to which, as we saw above.
Hegel too was forced to have recourse when idealism, even in his
powerful and skilful hands, was a powerless and useless instru
ment. But what in Hegel is accidental, a guess of greater or
lesser genius, becomes in Marx a rigorous, scientific investi
gation.
Modern dialectical materialism has made clear to itself in
comparably better than idealism the truth that people make his
tory unconsciously: from its standpoint the course of history is
determined in the final account not by m ans w ill, but by the
development of the material productive forces. Materialism also
knows when the owl of Minerva starts its flight, but it see?
nothing mysterious in the flight of this bird, any more than in
anything else. It has succeeded in applying to history the rela
tion between freedom and necessity discovered by idealism. Peo
ple made and had to make their history unconsciously as long
as the motive forces of historical development worked behind
their backs, independently of their consciousness. Once those
forcjs have been discovered, once the laws by which they work
have been studied, people will be able to take them in their
own hands and subm it them to their own reason. The service ren
dered by Marx consists in having discovered those forces a n d
made a rigorous scientific study of their working. Modern d i a
lectical materialism, which, in the opinion of philistines, must
turn man into an automaton, in actual fact opens for the first
time in history the road to the kingdom of freedom and c o n s c i o u s
* Das Kapital, Vorwort, 2. Auflage, S. X IX .* 82
FOR THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L S DEATH 42^

a c t iv it y . But il is possible to outer that kingdom only by means
0f a radical change in the prosent social activity. The philistines
realise, or at least have a foreboding of this. That is why the
materialist explanation of history causes them such vexation and
grief; and for thal reason too nol a single philistine is able or
w illing to understand or grasp Marx's theory in its entirely.
Ilegel saw the proletariat as a mob. For Marx and the Marxists the
proletariat is a great force, the bearer of the future. O nly the
proletariat is capablo of mastering the teaching of Marx (we are
not speaking of exceptions) and we see how it is in fact becoming
more and more permeated with its content.
Philistines in all countries are raising a hue and cry about
there not being a single im portant work in the whole of tho
writings of Marxism besides Capital. Hut first, that is not true,
and secondly, oven if it wore, it would prove nothing. Can one
speak of stagnation of thought at a time when thought daily
wins masses of followers, when it opens new and broad
perspectives for a whole class of society?
Ilegel is enthusiastic when he speaks of the people of Athens
before w'hom the tragedies of Aeschylus and Sophocles were
played, to whom Pericles addressed his speeches, and from
among whom emerged personalities who became classical charac
ters for all ages. We can understand Hegel's enthusiasm. Neverthe
less it must be noted that Ihe Atheneans were a people of slave
owners. It was not the slaves that Pericles addressed himself to,
nor was it for them that the great works of art were intended.
In our time science addresses itself to the working people, and we
are fully entitled to be enthusiastic when we consider the modern
working class, to whom the profoundest thinkers address them
selves and before whom the most talented authors make their
speeches. O nly now has a close and unseverable union between
science and the working people at last been established, a union
which will lay the foundations of a great and fruitful epoch in
world history.
11 is sometimes said that the standpoint of dialectics is identical
with that of evolution. There can be no doubt that these two
methods have points of contact. Nevertheless between them there
is a profound and important difference which, it must be adm itted,
is far from favouring the teaching of evolution. Modern evolution
ists introduce a considerable admixture of conservatism into their
teaching. They want to prove that there are no leaps either in
nature or in history. Dialectics, on the other hand, knows full
" e ll that in nature and also in hum an thought and history leaps
are inevitable. But it does not overlook the undeniable fact that
the same uninterrupted process is at work in all phases of change.
Il only endeavours to make clear to itself the series of conditions
424
G. P LEK HA N O V
under which gradual change must necessarily lead to a leap.*

From Hegels standpoint utopias have a sym ptomatic importance
in history: they display contradictions characteristic of the
epoch in question. Dialectical materialism gives the same apprais
al of them. It is n o t the utopian plans of various reformers, but.
the laws of production and exchange, which determine the now
continually growing working-class movement. That is why, con
trary to what happened in past centuries, not the reformers are at
present U t o p i a n s , but all those p u b l i c figures who want to stop
the wheel of history. And the most characteristic feature of onr
epoch is that not the reformers, but their opponents, resort to
utopias. The utopian champions of the present unsightly reality
want to convince themselves and others that of itself this reality
has all perfections, and that therefore all that is necessary is
to remove from it certain abuses that have accumulated. In this
connection we cannot help remembering what Hegel said about
the Reformation. The Reformation, he said, arose out of the
corruption of the Church. The corruption of the Church is not
accidental, not only abuse of power and authority. Abuse is
usually regarded as the cause of corruption; it is presumed that the
base is good, the thing in itself irreproachable, but passions and
in general subjective interests, the accidental w ill of men, use
that good as a means for themselves and that all that is needed
is to remove these accidental things__ W ith such an idea the
thing is saved and the evil considered as only extraneous to it.
But accidental ahuse of a thing is only a particular case; it is
quite another matter in the case of a general and great evil in
such a great and general thing as the Church. ** It is not surprising
that Hegel gets so little sympathy from those who like to appeal
to accidental rents where it is really a matter of radical change
*
Hegel proved with amazing clearness how absurd it is to explain
phenomena only from the standpoint of their gradual change. He says: Rci
der Allmiiligkeit des Entstehens liegt die Vorstellung zu Grunde, dass das
Entstehende schon sinnlich oder iiberhaupt wirklich vorhanden, nur wegen
seiner Klcinheit noch nicht wahrnehmbar, so wie bei der Allmiiligkeit des
Verschwindens, dass das Nichtsein oder das Andere an seine Stelle tretende
gleichfalls vorhanden, nur noch nicht bemerkbar sei;und zwar vorhandeu
nicht in dem Sinne, dass das Andere in dem vorhandenen Anderen an sich
enthalten, sondern dass es als Desein, nur unbemerkbar, vorhanden sei;
es wird dam it das Entstehen und Vergehen iiberhaupt aufgehoben ... und
der wesentliche oder der Begrifisunterschied in einen ausserlichen blossen
Grossenunterschied verwandelt. Das Begreiflichmachen eines Entstehens
oder Vergehens aus der Allmaligkeit der Veranderung hat die der Tautologie
eigene Langweiligkeit, weil es das Entstehende oder Vergehende schon vorher
ganz fertig hat, und die Veranderung zu einer blossen Andening Pinesausserlichen Unterschiedes inacht, wodurch sie in der That nur eine Taulologie ist. IVissenschaft der Logik, Niirenberg, 1812, B .I, S. 313-14.
** Philosophie der Gesrhichte, S. 497-98.
FOR THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OK H E G E L'S DEATH 425
in the thing itself. They are horrified by the audacious, radical

spirit that permeates Hegels philosophy.
There was a time when those who more or less belonged lo
the innovators camp rose against Hegel. W hat shocked them in
his doctrine was his philistine attitude to the contemporary
Prussian reality. These opponents of Hegel were gravely mistaken:
underneath the reactionary husk they did not notice the innovatory
kernel in his system. But however that may be, these peoples
antipathy for the great thinker proceeded from noble motives,
worthy of all respect. Now Hegel is condemned by scientists
representing the bourgeoisie, and they condemn him because
they understand or at least feel instinctively the innovatory
spirit of his philosophy. For the same reason people now like to
pass over Hegels merits in silence; they w illing ly oppose him
to Kant and nearly every assistant professor considers it his
calling to extol the system of the Konigsberg thinker . We w ill
ingly give Kant his due and do not dispute his merits. But it
seems very suspicious to us that the bourgeois scientists tendency
to criticism is called forth not by his strong sides but his weak
ones. It is the dualism characteristic of this system that attracts
bourgeois ideologists most. And dualism is a particularly conve
nient thing in the field of m orality . W ith its help the most
attractive ideals can be b u ilt up, the most daring expeditions
into a better world can be undertaken without any thought
of embodying those ideals in reality. W hat could be better?
In the ideal one can, for example, completely destroy the existence
of classes, abolish the exploitation of one class by another, and
at the same time defend the class state, etc.. in reality. Ilegel saw
the current assertion that an ideal cannot be implemented in
reality as a terrible insult to human reason. A ll that is rational
is real, all that is real is rational. This proposition, we know,
perplexed many people, not in Germany alone, but abroad, espe
cially in Russia. The reason for this perplexion must be sought
in the lack of clear understanding of the meaning which Ilegel
Save to the words reason and reality. It would seem that even
jf one gives these words their usual vulgar interpretation, one
*s bound, all the same, to be struck by the innovatory content
of the first half of this proposition: A ll that is rational is real .
Applied to history these words can mean nothing else than the
J'nshakable conviction that everything rational, far from remain'ng something of the beyond, must become reality. W ithout such
Promising conviction innovatory thought would lose all practical
S1 2nificance. According to Hegel, history is the manifestation
**><1 realisation in time of the universal spirit (i.e., reason). How
the continual superseding of social forms be explained from
hls standpoint? It can be explained only if one considers that
426
G. PLEK HA NO V
in the process of historical development reason becomes madness

and blessing an evil. One must not, according to Ilegel, be cere
monious with reason which has gone over into its opposite, i.e.
which has become madness. When Caesar seized state power he
violated the Rom an constitution. Such a violation was obviously
a heinous crime. Apparently Caesars opponents were fully justi
fied in considering themselves as champions of right because they
stood on legal ground. But the right which they championed was
formal right, void of any liv ing spirit and abandoned by the
Gods. The violation of that right was thus only formally a crime
and therefore there is nothing easier than to justify Ju liu s Caesar,
the violator of the Roman constitution.
Ilegel gave the following opinion of the fate of Socrates, con
demned as the enemy of the prevailing m orality: Socrates was
a hero because he consciously acknowledged tho higher principle
of the spirit and gave voice to it. The right of this higher spirit is
absolute__ Such is the position adopted by heroes in world
history in general; it is through them that the new world dawns.
The new principle is in contradiction w ith the one that has so
far existed; it seems destructive; therefore heroes appear as men
of violence who break the laws. As individuals, they are doomed,
but the principle itself forges on, even if in another person, and
undermines what already exists.* These words are sufficiently
clear in themselves. But the matter w ill become still clearer if
we pay attention to the fact that according to Hegel not only
heroes appaar on the scene of world history, not only individtnd
personalities, but whole peoples too, inasmuch as they are vehicles
of the new historical principle. In such cases the field of activity
to which the rights of the people extend is extraordinarily vast.
Against this its absolute right to be the vehicle of the present
stage of development of the universal spirit, the spirits of the
other peoples have no right and are as those whose epoch is past,
they do not count any more in the history of the world.**
We know that at the present time the vehicle of the new princi
ple of world history is not any single people, but a definite social
class. But we shall still be faithful to the spirit of Hegels philos
ophy if we say that all other social classes w ill go into world
history in the degree in which they will be able to give support
to this class.
The irresistible striving to the great historical goal, a striving
which nothing can stopsuch is the legacy of the great German
idealist philosophy.
* Geschichte der Philosophie, B. II, S. 120.
** Philosophie des Hedits, 347.
[FOREWORD TO THE FIRST EDITION

(FROM THE TRANSLATOR)
AND PLEKHANOVS NOTES TO ENGELS BOOK
y, C D I V I ( i E E C E l l H A V I l A X I ) T H E E X D
O F C L A S S I C . 1L G E R M A X
PUT LOSO PHY]
FROM THE TRANSLATOR

[a publishing the translation of Engels remarkable work on
Feuerbach we permit ourselves to say a few words on the signifi
cance which it may have for Russian readers.
Triumphant reaction attires itself in our country, among other
things, in a philosophical raiment, as can be seen, for example,
from the journal Voprosy Pkilosophii i, Psildiologii.2*3 The negational trend of the sixties284 is treated as something very light-minded
and superficial, and Messrs. Astafyev, Lopatin and others wouldbe sages are acknowledged as great philosophical magnitudes
(see, for instance, what Mr. Y. Kolubovsky narrates on Philos
ophy with the Russians in the supplement to his Russian transla
tion of History of Modern Philosophy by (jberweg-Heinze) . 285
The Russian socialists w ill be obliged to take this philosophical
reaction into account and consequently study philosophy. In this
field, in politics as in economics, Marx and Engels w ill be their
most reliable guides. Ths present pamphlet contains as full as
possible a summary of the philosophical views of these thinkers.
The pamphlet is written in a very concise form. We have had
to supply a number of explanatory notes. The longer ones are
indicated by figures and placed at the end of the book. There
also are two supplements, one of which (Karl M arx on Feuerbach)
is also in the German edition and the other one (K arl M arx on
French Materialism) is borrowed from Marx and Engels work
Die heilige Familie oder K ritik der kritischen K ritik, gegen Bruno
Bauer und- Comp., Frankfurt a.M ., 1845 ( The Holy Fam ily, or
Critique of Critical Criticism. Against Bruno Bauer and Co.).
But we have not borrowed it directly, as this book is extremely
rare. 288 The chapter on French materialism has been translated
h.v us from the well-known Socialist-Democratic journal Neue
Zeit, in which there was a reprint of it a few years ago. 287
Marx and Engels polemic witli Bruno Bauer and Company
(see Note 4 on Bruno Bauer) constitutes a whole epoch in the
history of world literature. It was the new dialectical m aterialism s
**rst resolute encounter with idealist philosophy. Of extraordinary
428
G. P LEK HA N O V
importance by its historical significance and its content (as far

as we have been able to judge by the few extracts we are acquaint
ed with) it could still play a great role in Russia, where even the
most progressive writers obstinately continue to adhere to idealist
views of social life. We would be very w illing to contribute to
the publication of this book in Russian if it were at our disposal.
B ut we do not know when it w ill be and therefore we content
ourselves w ith translating one chapter of it.* This chapter,
which is closely connected w ith what Engels says about Feuer
bach, is a fairly complete whole, and by its wealth of thought
it leaves far behind the m any pages on materialism of modern
times contained in Langes well-known work . 289 We particularly
direct our readers attention to the link which Marx shows between
nineteenth-century utopian socialism and eighteenth-century
French materialism.
Engels work on Feuerbach was written on the occasion of
Starckes book on the same author . 290 B ut so little is said in it
about this latter book that we do not consider it necessary to speak
of it in the foreword. Readers w ill find the required information
in Note 5.
G. Plekhanov
June 1892
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] This book has now been published in th
second volume of the edition of Gesammelte Schriften von K. Marx und Fr.
Engels, 1841 bis 7S50288 by Mehring.
IPLEKHANOVS NOTES
TO ENGELS BOOK L U D W I G F E U E I t B A C H . . . \
( I )291 The author here has in mind a series of articles on Germany
by Heine, which appeared originally in Revue des deux.Mondes and
were then published as a separate book (the foreword to its first
edition was dated December 1834). The reader w ill find this
splendid work of Heine 292 in the complete collection of his works.
Unfortunately the Russian translation has been horribly disfigured
by the censor.
The modern Aristophanes did not adopt towards the philosophy
of his time the Greek genius attitude towards the sophists.
He not only understood the revolutionary significance of German
philosophy, he warmly sympathised w ith it because of its very
revolutionary significance. However, in his book on Germany,
Heine dwells far more on the revolutionary significance [which
he greatly exaggerated] of K ant (his Criticism of Pure Reason)
than of Hegel. By the forties he was more decisive in his pro
nouncements on Hegel. In a still extant excerpt from his first
and only letter On Germany we find a humorous exchange of
thoughts between the author and the king of philosophy . Once
when I was embarrassed over the saying: A ll that exists is ration
al.' he laughed in a psculiar way and observed: It could also be
worded: all that is rational must exist. He looked around in
alarm but soon regained his self-possession, for only Heinrich
Beer593 had heard what he said. It does not matter in the case
in question who Heinrich Beer was. A ll that needs to be noted
hero is that in Heines opinion Hegel himself understood the
revolutionary significance of his philosophy but was afraid to
bring it to light. Again, to what extent this opinion of Hegel
*s true is another question, which w ill be answered, by the way,
jn the present pamphlet. But there can be no doubt that Heine
himself was by no means one of those lim ited and short-sighted
people who were afraid of the conclusions following from Hegels
philosophy. In the conversation quoted it was not w ithout intent
hat Hegel's famous proposition was changed: real was replaced
. y existing in general. Heine apparently wished to show that even
1,1 the vulgar form which the proposition was given by people
430
G. PLEK HA NO V
who were little versed in the secrets of Ilegels philosophy, jj,

invariably retains its revolutionary meaning.
(2)294 ^ye
the question of how to understand Hegels
teaching on the rationality of everything which is real" played
a great role in our philosophical circles in the late thirties and
early forties. Thanks to it, V. G. Belinsky, the clearest brain
among Russian writers, experienced, so to speak, a real tragedy.
His articles on Menzel and the anniversary of Borodino 295 aro
full of the sharpest attacks on those who permitted themselves
to condemn reality , i.e., the social relations around them. LaUr
he very much disliked to recall these articles, because ho consid
ered them as shameful error. In his passionate negation of tho
infamous Russian system he could not be restrained by any philo
sophical considerations on their alleged rationality. People
who wrote after him in the same trend did not consider it neces
sary to return to Hegel and check the theoretical premises that
the outstanding critic took as his starting-point al the time of his
conservative infatuations. They thought that those premises
contained nothing but error. Such is the view of progressivi
Russian writers at the present too. Is it correct?
In his M y Life and Thoughts Herzen relates how he logically
bypassed the theoretical stronghold which at a first (and, it must
be noted, extremely superficial and incorrect) glance the teaching
of the rationality of all that is real seems to represent. He decid
ed that this teaching was merely a new formulation of the law
of sufficient cause. But the law of sufficient cause does not at all
load to the justification of every given social system. If in the
history of Russia there was sufficient cause for the appearance
and growth of despotism, the emancipatory movement of the
Decembrists also apparently had sufficient cause of its own. If in
this case despotism was rational , the wish to do away with
it once for all was obviously no less rational. Hence, Herzen
decided Hegels teaching is rather a theoretical justification for
every emancipation struggle. It is the real algebra of tho revolu
tio n . 286
Herzen was perfectly right in the sense o f his final c o n c l u s i o n .
Bui ho arrived at it by an erroneous way. Let us explain Ibis
by means of an example.
The Roman Republic was real, Engels says, d e v e l o p i n g
Hegels thought, but so was the Roman Empire, which s u p e r seded it. The question is: why did the Empire supersede the
Republic? The law of sufficient cause only guarantees that thisfact could not have been without a cause. But it does not give
the slightest indication as t o where the cause or causes of the
fact in question are to be sought. Perhaps the Republic. waP
superseded by the Empire because Caesar had greater milit*ir3'
NOTES TO EN GELS' HOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
431
talent than l ompey; perhaps because Cassius and Brutus made

mistakes; perhaps because Octavius was very skilful and cunning,
0r perhaps for some other accidental reason. Hegel was not
satisfied with such explanations. In his opinion accident is merely
n wrapping hiding necessity. Of course, the concept of necessity
itself can also be interpreted very superficially; one can say that
the fall of the Roman R epublic became necessary because and
only because Caesar defeated Pompey. But with Ilegel this concept
liad another, incomparably profounder meaning. When he quali
fied a particular social phenomenon as necessary, he meant that
it had been prepared by all the preceding course of the develop
ment of the country in which it took place. It is there that we
must seek the cause or causes. Consequently, the fall oj the Roman
Republic is not explained by Caesars talents or the mistakes made
by Brutus or any other man or group of men, but by the IVct
that there had been changes in the home relationships of Rome,
and that as a result of those changes the further existence of the
Republic became impossible. W hat exactly were those changes?
Ilegel himself often gave unsatisfactory answers to such questions.
But that is not the point. The irnportanl thing is that Ilegels
view of social phenomena is far more profound than that of people
who know only one thing, namely that there is no action without
cause. Neither is that all. Ilegel brought out a far more profound
and more important truth. He said that every particular aggregate
of phenomena in the process of its development creates out of its
very self the forces that lead to its negation, i.e., its disappear
ance; that consequently every particular social system, in the
process of its historical development, creates out of its very self
the social forces that destroy it and replace it by a new ont\
Hence the conclusion suggests itself although it is not brought
f>ul by Hegel that if I adopt a negative altitude to a particular
social system, my negation is "rational" only if it coincides with
the objective process of negation proceeding w ithin that very
system itself, i.e., if thal system is losing its historical meaning
'uni entering into contradiction w ith the social needs to which
it owes its appearance.
l-el us now try to apply this standpoint to the social questions
"hioh agitated Russian educated youth in the thirties. Russian
reality* the serfdom, despotism, the all powerfulness of the
P'dice, censorship and the lik e appeared to them as infamous,
"njust. Invo luntarily Ihey remembered with sympathy the
recent Decembrists attempt to improve our social relationships.
>it they, at lcasl the most gifted among them, were no longer
satisfied with the abstracl revolutionary negation of the eighteenth
e iitu r y , or the conceited and self-loving negation of the romanlcs- Thanks to Ilegel they had already become far more exacting.
432
G. P LEKHANOV
They said to themselves: Prove the rationality of your negation

justify it by the objective laws of social development or abandon
it as a personal w him, a childish caprice. B ut to justify the nega
tion of Russian reality by the inner laws of its own development
meant to solve a problem which was beyond even Hegels ability.
Take for example Russian serfdom. To justify its negation meant
to prove that it negated itself, i.e., that it no longer satisfied the
social needs by virtue of which it had at one time come into being.
But to what social needs did Russian serfdom owe its appearance?
To the economic needs of a state which would have died of exhaus
tion w ithout the serf peasant. Consequently, it was a matter
of proving that in the nineteenth century serfdom had already
become too poor a means for satisfying the economic needs of
the state; that, far from satisfying them any longer, it was a direct
obstacle to their satisfaction. A ll this was proved later in the
most convincing way by the Crimean War. But, we repeat, Hegel
himself would not have been capable of proving that theoretically.
According to the direct meaning of his philosophy the conclusion
was that the causes of any given societys historical development
have their roots in its internal development. This correctly indi
cated the most im portant task of social science. B ut Hegel himself
contradicted, and could not but contradict, this profoundly
correct view. An absolute idealist, he regarded the logical
qualities of the idea" as the principal cause of any development.
Thus the qualities of the idea turned out to be the radical cause
of historical movement. And every time a great historical ques
tion towered before him , Hegel referred first of all to these quali
ties. But to refer to them meant to leave the ground of history
and voluntarily to deprive himself of any possibility of finding
the actual causes of historical movement. As a man of tremendous
and truly genial intelligence, Hegel himself felt that there was
something wrong and that, properly speaking, his explanations
explained nothing. Therefore, paying due tribute to the idea",
he hastened down to the concrete ground of history to seek lhe
real causes of social phenomena no longer in the qualities of
ideas, hut in the ideas themselves, in the very phenomena that
he was investigating at the time. In so doing he often made surmise*
th a l were truly genial (noting the economic causes of historical
movement). B u t these surmises of genius were all the same no
more than surmises. Having 110 firm systematic basis, they played
no serious role in the historical views of Hegel and the Hegelians.
T hat is w hw at the time they were pronounced, hardly any
attention was paid to them.
The great task pointed out by Hegel to the social science of tlif
nineteenth century remained unfulfilled; the real, internal cause**
of the historical movement of hum anity remained u n d i s c o v e r e d .
NOTES TO EN GELS' BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
433
And it goes w ithout saying that it was not in Russia that the
n l a i i capable of landing them could appear. Social relationships in
Russia were too underdeveloped, social stagnation held too tight
a hold on the country for these unknown causes to emerge on the
surface of social phenomena in Russia. They were found by Marx
a n d Engels in the West, under completely different social condi
tions. But this did not happen till some time later, and during
the period of which we are speaking the Hegelian negators there,
too, became involved in the contradictions of idealism. After all
that we have said, it is easy to understand why the young Russian
followers of Hegel began by completely reconciling themselves
with Russian reality, which, to tell the truth, was so infamous
that Hegel himself would never have recognised it as reality :
unjustified theoretically, their negative attitude to it was deprived
in their eyes of any reasonable right to existence. Renouncing it,
they selflessly and disinterestedly sacrificed their social strivings
to philosophical honesty. But on the other hand, reality itself
saw to it that they were forced to retract their sacrifice. An hourly
and daily eyesore to them by its infam y, it forced them to aspire
to negation at any cost, i.e., even to negation not founded on
any satisfactory theoretical basis. A nd, as we know, they yielded
to the insistence of reality. Parting w ith the philosophical
blinders of Hegel, Belinsky undertook vigorous attacks on
the very system that he had but recently justified. This, of
course, was very good on his part. But it must be admitted
that, acting thus, tho writer of genius was lowering the level
of his theoretical demands and was adm itting that he, and in
his person all progressive Russian thought, was an insolvent
debtor as far as theory was concerned.897 This did not prevent
him from occasionally expressing extremely profound views
on Russian social life. For example, in one of his letters at
the end of the forties he said that only the bourgeoisie, i.e.,
only capitalism , would provide the ground for serious and success
ful negation of the monstrous Russian reality . 298 B ut all 1 he
same, on the whole he adhered in his negation to utopian views
of social phenomena. S im ilar views were held by Chernyshevsky,
the subjective writers of the late sixties and early seventies
and the revolutionaries [of the same period and] of all trends.
And it is remarkable that the farther the matter went and the
more Hegel was forgotten, tho less the Russian negators realised
that their social views descended from a certain theoretical fall
from grace. Our subjective writers made a scientific insolvency
a dogma. They took pains to write and rewrite a certificate of
theoretical indigence for Russian thought, im agining that they
were m aking out for it a most flattering and precious document.
But that could not go on for ever. The revolutionary failures of
28-01329
434
G. P LEKHANOV
the seventies alone were enough to make the Russian sociy]

thought stop adm iring its own insolvency. The theoretical
which Russian philosophical circles in the forties could not solv(.
turned out to be easy after Marx turned Hegels philosophy upside
down, i.e., placed it on a materialist basis. Marx discovered
the inner causes of the historical movement of hum anity. .\1 |
that remained to be done was to view Russian social relationships
from his standpoint. This was done by the Social-Democrats,
who very often arrived independently one of another at ihe
same views on Russian life. Russian social thought, as represented
by the Social-Democrats, at last entered the general channel
of scientific thought of the nineteenth century. The theoretical
fall from grace of the old occidentalists was redeemed: a firm
objective basis for the negation of Russian reality was found
in that reality itself. [See my article Zu Hegels sechszigsteni
Todestage in Neue Zeit, X I , 1891 and my speech V. G. lieliusky, Geneva, 1898.1298
(3 )3
.jg27 the Hegelian Henning began to publish Jahrbucher fiir wissenschaftliche K ritik (Year-Books of Scientific
Criticism) to spread and defend the views of his teacher. Bul
Henning followed a conservative trend and his journal did not
satisfy the Young Hegelians. In 1838 A. Ruge and T. Echterrneyer
founded the H alle Year-Books of German Science and A rt (Hallischc
Jahrbucher fiir deutsche Wissenschaft und Kunst) which was renamed
Deutsche Jahrbiicher (German Year-Books) when the editoritil
office was transferred to Leipzig in 1841. From both the religious
and political points of view, German Year-Books was of a radical
trend. In 1843 it was prohibited in Saxony and then Ruge and
Marx decided to publish it in Paris under the title German-French
Year-Books (Deutsch-Franzosische Jahrbiicher). Among its contrib
utors were Frederick Engels and H. Heine. Unfortunately only
one volume of German-French Year-Books appeared, combining
both the first and the second issues. In it, among other things,
were Marxs remarkable articles E inleitung
zur K ritik dor
Hegelschen Rechtsphilosophie (Introduction to the Critique
of Hegels Philosophy of Law) published in Russian in Geneva
in 1888 and Zur Judenfrage (On tho Jewish Question) and
a no less remarkable article by Engels: Umrisse zu einer K ritik
der Nationalokonomie (Sketch of a Criticism of N ational Econ
omy which was reprinted in Neue Zeit, No. 8 of the n i n t h
year of its publication ) . 301
The Rheinische Zeitung 302 was founded in Cologne by Cainphausen, Harisemann and their fellow-thinkers. Marx was its
most active and talented contributor. In [mid-October] 1842
he became the editor. A t that time he was not yet a socialist303
but his attacks on the government were already so vigorous that
NOTES TO E N G E LS BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
435
the papc'r lasted only a few months under his direction. [The
issue of March 17, 1843, contained this short notice: The under
s i g n e d declares that as a result of the present censorship conditions
foe has retired from the editorial board of Rheinische Zeitung.
l)r. M arx." (Italics in the original). On March 31 of the same
year the paper was compelled to cease publication as a result
of a government decree which had been published on January 25.
The editorial board ceased publication a few days before the
term, on March 28.] Marx, by the way, was almost glad of this
prohibition. Previous literary activity had proved to him the
insufficiency of his economic inform ation and he wished to com
plete il; the penally imposed on the Cologne Gazette304 gave him
an opportunity of engrossing himself in his study. When Marx
again took up literary and political activity he already had an
extensive stock of knowledge which he had not had before, but,
most im portant of all, he had a new view of economic science which
constituted an epoch in its history.
[The most remarkable of Marx's articles in this newspaper were
recently published by Franz Mehring in Gesammelte Schriften
van K arl M arx und Friedrich Engels, 1841 bis 1850, Vol. I,
pp. 208-321. For Russian readers these articles have still not
lost their puhlicistic interest. It is superfluous to add that they
are very im portant in the history of M arxs own intellectual
development. ] 305
In June 1848, Marx, w ith the collaboration of Engels. Freiligrath and W ilhe lm W olff (to whose memory C apital is dedicated),
founded, again in Cologne, the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. In it
Marx and his main collaborators wrote as already completely
convinced socialists in the most modern sense of the word, i.e.,
in the sense it has in their own works. The Neue Rheinische Zeitung,
as even its enemies adm it, was the most remarkable literary
event of its time. But more can and must be said about it: not
one of the socialist newspapers either before or after it can be
compared with it. It was prohibited in June 1849 for its open
'all to insubordination to the government, which was then
rapidly recovering from the blows dealt it by the revolution . 306
(4) 807 Thanks to the solicilude of lhe censors the views of Strauss
nd B. Bauer which Engels mentions are still little known to
Russian readers. We therefore do not consider it superfluous
lo expound them here in brief.
The matter is as follows. If you are convinced that the H oly
Scripture was dictated by God himself (the H oly Ghost), selecting
!>s his secretary sometimes one, sometimes another holy man,
you w ill not tolerate even the idea that it can contain any [mis
takes or] incoherences. A ll that is related there has for you the
significance of lhe most indisputable fact. In tempting Eve, the
28*
436
G. P LEK HA N O V
serpent pronounces a speech worthy of an insinuating Jesuit

fu ll of experience of life. This is rather strange, but for God
nothing is impossible: the apparent strangeness is only a new
instance of his omnipotence. Balaam s famous she-ass entered
into conversation w ith her rider. This again is quite an extra
ordinary phenomenon, but for God, etc., etc., according to the
same once and for ever established formula. Faith is not embar
rassed by anything [even by absurdity: credo quia absurdurn],
Faith is the announcement of things we hope for, the revelation
of things invisible, i.e., the certainty of what we can see and also
what we cannot see, what we desire and anticipate as if it were
already present. For the religious man the omnipotence of God,
the creator and lord of nature, is precisely what he desires above
everything. A ll this would have been very good, very touching
and even very lasting if man, in his struggle against nature for
his existence had not been obliged to taste of the tree of knowl
edge of good and evil", i.e., gradually to study the laws of nature
itself. Once he has tasted of the fruit of this dangerous tree
he is no longer so easily influenced by fiction. If he continues by
force of habit to believe in the omnipotence of God, his faith
assumes a different character: God recedes into the background,
behind the stage of the world, so to speak, and nature w ith its
eternal, iron im m utable laws, comes on to the proscenium. But
miracles are incompatible w ith conformity to law; conformity
to law leaves no room for miracles; miracles preclude conformity
lo law. The question now is: How can people who have grown to
the concept of im m utable laws in nature regard the account
of miracles in the Bible? They are bound to negate them. But
negation can assume various forms according to the constitution
and course of social life in which the particular intellectual trend
takes place.
The French thinkers of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment
sim ply laughed at the Bible stories, regarding them as a manifes
tation of ignorance and even of quackery. This sharply negative
attitude to the Bible was prompted to the French by the struggle
that the third estate in tho country was then waging against the
privileged in general and the clergy in particular. In Protestant
Germany of the time the situation was different. First, since the
Reformation the German clergy itself played quite a different
role from that of the clergy in Catholic countries; secondly, the
third estate in Germany was then far from the thought of
struggling against the old order. This circumstance laid it?
impress upon the whole of the history of eighteenth-century
German literature. Whereas in France the educated representatives
of the third estate used every new conclusion [every new hypothe
sis] of science as a weapon to fight the ideas and conceptions w h ich
NOTES TO E N G E L S BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
437
liatl grown out of the obsolete social relationships, in Germany

it was not so much a question of eradicating old prejudices as of
bringing them into agreement with recent discoveries. For the
revolutionary-minded French thinkers of the Enlightenment,
religion was the fruit of ignorance and deception; for the German
supporters of E nlightenm enteven the most progressive among
them (for example, Lessing] it was the education of the human
race''- Accordingly the Bible was not in their eyes a book to lie
denied and ridiculed. They tried to enlighten this book, to give
its narrations new meaning and bring them into line w ith the
spirit of the time . Then began tho most arduous rending of the
Bible. In the Old Testament God speaks on almost every page.
|3 vit. that does not mean that he spoke in reality. That is only
one of those figurative expressions to which Orientals are so
inclined. W hen we road that God said one thing or another,
we must understand it in the sense that he impressed these or
those ideas on one or the other of his loyal worshippers. The same
with the tempting serpent and B alaam s she-ass. These animals
did not speak at all in reality. They only suggested certain
thoughts to their so-to-speak interlocutors. On the Day of Pente
cost, as is known, the H oly Ghost came down on the apostles
in the form of tongues of fire. This again is a figurative expression.
By it the author or authors of the Acts of the Apostles merely meant
that the apostles felt at the time a vehement access of religious
fervour. However, in the interpretation of other enlightened
investigators the matter took place in a somewhat different
manner. The tongues of fire which descended on the apostles
represented a perfectly natural phenomenon, namely, electric
sparks. In exactly the same way if Paul became blind on his
way to Damascus, this is explained by the natural effect of lig h t
ning, and if the old man Ananias healed him by the contact of
his hands, it is well known, that old men often have very cold
hands, and cold calms inflam m ation. If Jesus raised many dead
people to life, this is explained by the quite simple circumstance
that he had to deal not w ith corpses but w ith living organisms
in a swoon. His own death on the cross was only apparent death.
In the interpretation of Doctor Paulus, who was well known in
his tim e,* Jesus himself was astonished (voli Verwunderung)
at his unexpected return to life. F inally, there can be no question
of his ascension into heaven, for the evangelists themselves are
extremely vague on this point: they say that he was taken up
into heaven (Mark); but does not that mean that his soul was
taken up into heaven after his death? And then, on what grounds
*
In 1800-04 lie published Evangeliencommentar and in 1828 Das Leben
Jesu, which we refer to hereafter in our quotations from Paulus.
438
G. P LEK HA N O V
would it have occurred to the evangelists to relate things that

neither a naturalist nor an astronomer, able to calculate exactly
how long it would take a cannon ball to reach ... Sirius , coulil
have believed?
It would be superfluous to prove that this kind of criticism of I ho
Gospels is quite inconsistent and that it testifies to its representa
tives complete lack of a true critical attitude to the question.
[It could be good and useful as a first step. B ut the first step, already
made by Spinoza, had to be followed by the second, and th<>
German thinkers of the Enlightenment did not take lh a t second
step.] The whole merit of Strauss (1808-74) consisted in putting
a stop to fruitless attempts to make the improbable probable
and to make historically conceivable things which did not happen
in history. Strauss regarded the Gospel narratives not as account?
(more or less accurate, more or less distorted) of actual events,
but only myths unconsciously formed in Christian communities
and expressing the idea of the Messiah at the time of its origin.
S im ilarly, the speeches of Jesus, particularly the loftiest among
them, quoted in the so-called Gospel of John, were in Strauss'
view of later creation. In his latest arrangement of The Life
of Jesus he thus expounds the view he then held of the origin of
the Gospel myths:
In my earlier works I suggested the idea of the myth as the
key to the Gospel stories of miracles and other reports which are
contrary to the view of history. In vain, I said, have attempts
been made to present stories like the star which appeared to the
Wise Men, the transfiguration, the miraculous feeding of crowds
and the like as natural processes; but since it is also impossible
to believe that such unnatural things really happened, narrations
of this kind are to be considered as fictions. Answering the ques
tion how people came, in the time in which these Gospels origi
nated, to imagine such things about Jesus, I referred first of all
to the expectation of the Messiah at that time. W hen once, I said,
first a few people, and then many, had come to see Jesus as the
Messiah, they thought that everything must have happened
to him which was expected from the Messiah in the prophecies
and parables of the Old Testament and their current explanations.
No matter how common knowledge it was that Jesus was a Nazarene, since the Messiah was the son of D avid, he had to be born
in Bethlehem, for Micheas had prophesied it so. No matter how
strictly Jesus condemned his compatriots passion for wonders, the
first saviour of the people, Moses, had worked miracles, and there
fore the last saviour, the Messiah, and that was Jesus, was also
bound to work miracles. Isaiah had prophesied lhat in that time,
i.e., the time of the Messiah, the blind would see, the deaf would
hear, the lame would leap like a hart and the tongue of the dumb
439
nlan would be loosened; thus it was known in detail what miracles

Jesus had to work, since he was the Messiah. In this way it came
about thal in lhe first Christian communities stories could, and
even had to be imagined about Jesus, without the consciousness
that they were fictions.... In such a conception the composition
of myths by the early Christians is placed on the same level as
w-e lind elsewhere in the origin of religions. The progress of science
in the field of mythology is precisely that it has understood
lhat a myth in its original form is not an intentional and con
scious invention of one single person but, the product of tho com
munity consciousness of a people or a religious circle, first indeed
uttered by a single person, but then believed precisely because
thal single person thus becomes the mouthpiece of the general
conviction; the myth is not a wrapping in which a clever man
covers an idea which has occurred to him for the use and edifica
tion of the ignorant crowd; but only with the story, and even
in the form of the story which he tells, does he become conscious
of the idea which he himself was unable to understand in its pure
form....
But the more the evangelical myths take, at least partly,
a now and independent character, all the more difficult is it
to imagine that their authors did not realise that thoy were
passing off what they themselves had imagined for actual events.
The one who first reported the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem could
honestly believe it, since the prophet Micheas had foretold that
the Messiah would come from Bethlehem, and Jesus was the
Messiah, and must accordingly have been born in Bethlehem.
The one, on the other hand, who first reported that at the death
of Jesus the veil of the temple was rent asunder (Matthew, 27, 51)
must, it seems, have known that he was relating something that
lie had not seen, that he had never heard of, but had imagined
himself. Precisely in this case a figurative expression like the
one in the Epistle to the Hebrews (10, 19), where it is said that
the death of Jesus opened for us the way thnnigh the veil of the
temple to the Ilo ly of Holies, could easily be understood by listen
ers in the literal sense, and thus the story could arise without
any conscious invention. In exactly the same way the story of
lhe calling of the four apostles to be fishers of men could be con
veyed in the form that the fishing to which Jesus called them
would be far more productive than their previous poorly paying
occupation, and from this, continuing to pass from one person
to another, the story of the miraculous catch of fish (Luke. 5)
could easily have arisen of itself. The data out of which the story
of the resurrection of Christ took shape also seem at a first glance
to be either true events or an undeniable and conscious lie. But
here too, if we examine the matter carefully we shall see that it
440
G. P LEK HA N O V
is not so. In an argument with a Christian a Jew could have said

No wonder the tomb was empty, when you had stolen the body
out of it.' We stole it? the Christian could have retorted. How
could we when you were guarding the grave so closely? He could
have said that because he supposed it was so; but the next narra
tor, using the same words, could have conveyed far greater cer
tainty: the grave was guarded. Then it would have been said
that it was sealed, since one is reminded of the seal by Daniel
whose lio n s den serves as a symbol for the tomb of Jesus...!
Or tho Jew could have said: Perhaps he appeared to you, but
as an incorporeal vision from the other w orld. How so, an
incorporeal vision! the Christian would have objected. W hy,
he still had tho wounds from the nails (that was quite obvious
for the Christian), he showed them . In the next narration tho
touching of the wounds could also have been added; such narra
tions could have arisen with complete honesty although they
were quite contrary to historical truth.*
There is no doubt that Strauss view was a huge step forward
compared w ith the above-mentioned views of his predecessors.
But it is not difficult to see that it also had certain shortcomings.
The change which historical facts undergo in passing through
oral tradition, the growth of myths pointed out by Strauss, in
a word, the popular Christian legend explains only the features
common to all the Gospels or versions of them which are noted
for their accidental and unintentional character and therefore
betray no precise tendency and are not peculiar to any one of
these expositions. B ut when, on the contrary, we see certain
characteristic features constantly produced in one of the Gospels,
whereas they are absent from the rest of evangelical tradition,
we can no longer explain them by motives common to tho whole
of the Christian legend; we must recognise in them the influence
of opinions and interests peculiar to the author of the book or
to the group of Christians whose mouthpiece he is. And when
this special character is manifest not only in certain isolated
points of the work, but the whole work seems conceived so as
to bring them out, when it leaves its mark on the arrangement
of the material, the chronology, the accessory details of the
narration and the style itself; when the work contains long discourses
or conversations usually not preserved in legend all circums
tances which strike one in the fourth Gospel and also, although
to a lesser degree, in the th ird we can be certain that we are
in presence not of a simple editing of religious legends but of the
*
Das Leben Jesu, for das deutsche Volk bearbeitet von David Friedrich
Strauss, dritte Auilage, Leipzig, 1874, S. 150-55.
441
deliberate work of the writer. * Consequently, Strauss mythologi

cal theory is far from explaining all that needs explanation.
Subsequently Strauss himself was convinced of this. In his latest
arrangement of The Life of Jesus he gave a far larger place to
the deliberate work of the writers. But at the time referred
to by Engels, i.e., in the forties, he had not yet noticed Ihe weak
side of his view which was so vigorously attacked by Bruno
Bauer.
Bauer (1809-82) reproached Strauss with a tendency to the
mystic and, the supernatural because in his myth theory the chief
factor is the general, the tribe, tho religious community, tradi
tion , and no room is left for the mediating activity of self-con
sciousness. Strauss mistake, he says, consists not in indicating
a certain general force (i.e., the force of tradition), but in making
that force work exclusively in a general form, directly out of its
generality. This is a religious view, faith in miracles, the repro
duction of religious ideas from the standpoint of criticism, reli
gious vulgarity and ingratitude towards self-consciousness....
The opposition between the views of Strauss, on the one hand,
aDd Bauer, on the other, is an opposition of the tribe and selfconsciousness, the substance and the subject.** In other words,
Strauss points out the unconscious appearance of the Gospel
narrations, while Bauer says that in the historical process of their
formation they went through the consciousness of people who
deliberately composed them for some religious purpose. This is
perfectly noticeable in the so-called Gospel of John*** who created
a quite special Jesus absolutely unlike the one of the other Gos
pels. B ut the other evangelists, too, were by no means innocent
of such composing. The so-called Luke recarves and pieces togeth
er again as he likes the Gospel written by the so-called Mark;
the so-called Matthew, who wrote after Ihem, treats Luke and
Mark w ithout any ceremony, trying to conciliate them with each
other and to adapt their narrations to the religious views and
strivings of his time. But still he does not succeed in this by no
means easy task. He gets muddled up in the most absurd contra
dictions. Here is one out of many examples. Matthew says that
after being baptised Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert
to be tempted by the devil. The question is: why did the S pirit,
*6 ., God, need to tempt Jesus by the intermediary of the devil?
For ... he could have known that the one whom he had just
called his beloved son (at the baptism G.P.) was inaccessible
n.
* Ed. Zeller, Christian Bauer et Vecole de Tubtngue, traduit par Ch.
Hter, Paris, 1883, p. 98.
** Die gute Sache der Freiheit, Zurich und W interthur, 1842, S. 117-18.308
*** It is now acknowledged that the apostle John was not its author.
442
G. P LEK HA N O V
to temptation.* But the fact is that Matthew simply got mud

dled up in his narration. He did not wish sim ply to copy what
ho road in the writings of his predecessors, but to explain it and
give it internal cohesion.** He read in Luke and Mark that the
Spirit led .lesus into the desert, where in fact he was tempted by
the devil. So he made up his mind that the Spirit led Jesus into
the desert for the purpose of tempting him with the help of tho
devil. And that is what he wrote in his Gospel, not noticing what
a ridiculous situation his omniscient god was getting into by
finding it necessary to tempt his own son. And here is a more
vivid example. Isaiah prophesies about the voice crying in
the wilderness (prepare ye the ways of the Lord). In order that
the words of the prophet should be fulfilled, Mark and Matthew
make John the Baptist preach in the desert. Matthew even
names the desert the Desert of Judea. Then, evidently repeating
lhe words of Mark and Luke, he reports that many people who
repented came to John and that he baptised them in the Jordan.
But it is sufficient to glance at the map of Palestine to see that
it was absolutely physically impossible for John to baptise the
penitents in the Jordan if he was preaching in the Desert nf
Judea, which is far from the river.*** [Such errors must be con
sidered as personal blunders on the part of the narrator.]
By picking out of the various evangelists features from the life
of .lesus which for some reason struck them, the faithful, or even
sim ply sentimental, compose for their spiritual use a more or
less attractive figure of the redeemer according to their con
cepts, tastes and inclinations. Strauss criticism already made
(his fabrication of a mosaic of Christ very difficult, but Bauer,
by h is criticism of the Gospels.**** threatened to make it absolutely
impossible: he did not recognise Jesus as historical at all. It is
therefore easy to understand the horror w ith which he inspired
pious and respectable people. He was deprived of the right
to teach in the theological faculty of Bonn University (where he
was an assistant professor), and was severely censured in a num
ber of booklets, articles and faculty reports. But Germany in the
forties of the nineteenth century was no longer the Germany of
the eighteenth. The revolutionary storm of 1848 was approaching:
the agitation among the progressive sections of the German people
was growing, as the saying goes, not daily but hourly; the literary
*
Kritik der evangelischen Geschichle der Synoptiker, zweite Autlag
Leipzig, 1846, 1 Band, S. 213.
** Ibid., p. 214.
*** Ib id ., p. 143.
,
*** pirSt edition, Kritik der evangelischen. Geschichle der Synoptiker. I 11,1,
I I Band, Leipzig, 1841. Kritik der evangelischen Geschichte der Synoptiker 11"
des lohannes, I I I uud lctzter Band, Braunschweig, 1842.
443
representatives of these sections were by no means embarrassed

by the conclusions from their criticism being opposed lu estab
lished ideas; on the contrary, they were becoming more and more
permeated with the tendency to negation. 13. Hauer answered
the attacks of his respectable opponents very sharply, sparing
neither religion in general nor the Christian state. 11is brother
Edgar showed still greater vigour and for his Der Streit der Kritik
mit Kirche und Staat (Criticisms Dispute with Church, and State),
published in Berne in
lie was imprisoned in a fortress.
It goes without saying that, such a method of arguing used by the
defenders of the system could not be considered very praiseworthy,
but it must also be conceded that in this work Edgar Bauer went
so far that his views could even now horrify very many of the
progressive representatives of Russian literature, lie recognised
neither God, private property nor state. He went so far that one
could go no farther in the direction of negation. But no, we are
mistaken: one more step could and should have been made
the most decisive step in that direction: the question could and
should have been posed: How strong was the weapon of criticism?
How well-grounded was il in its negation? Or, in other words,
to what extent did il free itself from the prejudices it wasattacking? This question was set by people who went farther than the
Bauer brothers, by Marx and Engels in their book Die heilige
Familie ( The Holy Fam ily).309 It turned out that critical criti
cism based itself entirely on the very same idealism that it was
fighting so furiously. That was its main shortcoming. As long
as B. Bauer basing himself on the right of self-consciousness
analysed Ihe Gospel stories, he could striko many heavy blows
at prejudices which time had rendered sacred; but when he and
his brother went over to criticism of the state and to the appraisal
of such great events as those in France at the end of the last and
the beginning of the present century, he arrived at conclusions
some of which were absolutely erroneous and others altogether
inconsistent and unconvincing. Nor could it be otherwise. To say
hat a particular social form is opposed to my self-consciousness
nut equivalent to defining its historical significance. But without
appraising its significance one cannot understand it correctly or
light, it with any serious hope of success. Marx and Engels did
precisely what was suggested by the whole course of the developnient of philosophical thought in the nineteenth century: once
having broken with idealism, one had to break also with autocra
tic self-consciousness , one had to find and point out the causes
*J.v which it in turn is determined. Here is not the place to discuss
Miether Marx and Engels were successful in the task they under
took; let the reader judge by their works. We shall only note
'aL the abstract radicalism of the Bauer brothers recalls in many
444
G. P LEKHANOV
respects our Russian subjective method in sociology; tho sa,P

unceasing references to criticism and to the critical spirit;'
(called critical thought in our country); the same inability
to penetrate by thought into the critical process which goes on
within social relationships themselves and which determines tho
self-consciousness of people. It would be very interesting and
extremely instructive to write a special essay drawing a paralleJ
between the arguments advanced by Edgar Bauer (Der Streit der
Kritik, viertes K apitel) against Hegel, on the one side, and thu
objections made by N ikolai Mikhailovsky to Spencer, on the
other. 310 Such a parallel would show how little is new in the
notorious subjective method. It would also show how all lhe
originality of the Russian subjective sociologists comes to uncon
scious repetition of the mistakes of others which have long ago
been pointed out and corrected by thinkers in Western Europi*.
(5)3U Having neither the necessity nor the possibility lion*
lo go into details on tho life of Feuerbach, we shall confine our
selves to a few lines from the History of Modern Philosophy by
Uberweg-Heinze312 (p. 394 of the Russian translation). Born
in 1804 ... the son of the famous crim inalist Anselm Feuerbach,
he studied theology and ... became a Hegelian. From 1824 ho
lived in Berlin, where bo attended lectures by Hegel and devoted
himself entirely to philosophy. In 1828 he became a lecturer
in Erlangen and lived from 1836 in the village of Bruckberg,
between Ansbach and Bayreuth, and from 1869 in Rechenbcrg
near Nuremberg in difficult conditions and died in 1872."
The contents of his Essence of Christianity can also be set forth
in a few words. 313
Religion , Feuerbach says, is unconscious self-consciousness
of man. In religion man deifies himself, his own "essence. The
essence of God is the essence of man, or to express it better, (lie
essence of man purified, freed from the lim itation of the indivi
dual person. The perfection of God, says Leibniz in his Theodic.ee.
is the perfection of our souls, but he possesses it in all its ful
ness ... in us there is a certain m ight, a certain knowledge, a cer
tain goodness, all these attributes are fu lly inherent in God.
This is quite true and only means that a ll attributes of God are.
attributes of man. But the religious man is not conscious of de
ifying his own essence. He objectifies it, i.e., contemplates and
honours it as another being, separate from him and existing
independently. Religion is the sp littin g of man in two, his sepa
rating from himself. From this follows a double conclusion.
First, Hegel absolutely distorted truth when ho said whit
man knows about God is God's knowledge of himself, or, i"
other words, God knows himself in man. In actual fact it lS
just the other way round: man knows himself in God and wbu*
445
,nan knows of God, is m ans knowledge of himself. The attributes

0f God change according to what man thinks and feels.
Whatever is the value of man, that, and no more, is the value
0f his God ... religion is the solemn revelation of the hidden trea
sures of man, the open confession of his love secrets. Every step
forward in religion is a step forward in m an s knowledge of him
self. Christ, the incarnation of God, is god personally known to
man
the happy certainty that God exists and exists in the
very form in which it is necessary and desirable that he should
exist .... That is why the last desire of religion is fulfilled only in
Christ, the secret of religious feeling revealed (revealed of course
in the figurative language characteristic of religion); what in
God was essence becomes a manifestation in Christ ... in this sense
the Christian religion can be called absolute religion. The oriental
religions, for example H induism , also speak of the incarnations
of God. But in them these incarnations take place too often and
for that very reason they lose all their meaning. In them the
Gocl incarnate does not bccome a person, i.e., a man, for without
a person there is no man.
Secondly, since in religion man is dealing with himself, as
with a separate being outside and opposed to himself; as reli
gion is only the unconscious self-consciousness of man, it inevitably
leads to a number of contradictions. When the believer says
God is love, he says in essence only that love is superior to any
thing in the world. But in his religious consciousness love is
degraded to the level of an attribute of a separate being, God, who
lias significance even independently of love. For the religious
man belief in God becomes the indispensable condition for
a loving, cordial attitude to his neighbour. He hates the atheist
in the name of that very love which he professes and deifies. Thus
the belief in God distorts the m utual relations between people,
by distorting mans attitude to his own essence. It becomes a source
of fanaticism and of all the horrors which go w ith it. It damns in
(he name of salvation, it becomes violent in the name of beati
tude. God is an illusion. But this illusion is extremely harmful,
il binds reason, it kills m ans natural inclination to truth and
goodness.... That is why reason which has grown to self-consciousness
niust destroy it. And it is not difficult for reason to do this. It
needs only to turn inside out all the relationships created by
religion. W hat in religion is a means (e.g., virtue, which serves as
a means of acquiring eternal happiness) must become an end;
''hat in religion is a subordinate, secondary thing, a condition
'e,8 -i love of ones neighbour the condition for Gods favour
towards us) must become the principal thing, the cause. Justice,
trulh, and good contain their sacred foundation in themselves, in
their quality. For man there is no being superior to man.
G. PLEK HA NO V
tin 1902 tho editorial board of the Mouvement socialiste under

took a wide enquete on the attitude of lhe socialist parties in
different countries to clericalism.31* This question now has obvious
practical importance. But in order to solve it correctly we must
first of all make clear to ourselves another m ainly theoretical
question: the attitude of scientific socialism to religion. This last
question is hardly analysed at all in the international socialist
literature of our time. And this is a great deficiency, which is.
explained precisely by the practicalness" of the majority of
present-day socialists. They say: religion is a personal matter.
That is true, but only in a definite, limited sense. It goes without
saying that the socialist party in each individual country would
act very improvidently if it refused to accept in its ranks a man
who recognises its programme and is ready to work for its ful
filment but at the same time still entertains certain religious
prejudices. Yet it would be still more improvident of any party
to renounce the theory underlying iLs programme. And the theorymodern scientific socialism rejects religion as tho product of an
erroneous view of nature and society and condemns it as an obstacle
to the all-round development of the proletarians. We have not
the right to close the doors of our organisation to a man who is
infected w ith religious belief; but we are obliged to do all that
depends 011 us in order to destroy that faith in him or at least
to prevent with spiritual weapons, of course our religiousminded comrade from spreading his prejudices among the wor
kers. A consistent socialist outlook is in absolute disagreement
with religion. It is therefore not surprising that the founders
of scientific socialism had a sharply negative attitude towards it.
Engels wrote: We wish to remove from our path all that appears
to us under the banner of the superhuman and the supernatural....
That is why we declare war once and for all on religion and reli
gious conceptions. 318 Marx called religion the opium w ith which
the higher classes try to put to sleep the consciousness of the
people and said that to abolish religion, as the imaginary happi
ness of the poople, is to demand their real happiness. And M an
again said: The criticism of religion disillusions man in order
that he may thin k and act and arrange his life like a sober man.
free from any inebriation, so that he may gravitate round himself,
i.e., round his genuine sun . 318
This is so true that in our country all those former Marxists"
who, because of their bourgeois strivings, neither wish nor can
wish that the proletariat should become completely sober, have
now returned to the fold of religious belief.317]
(6)318 pjT1 ge]s uses tbe word belles-lettres and literary i"
a sense in which it is not now used in Russia. Hence there can
arise a misunderstanding: How does it come, the reader may
8 k,
447
that true socialism has degenerated into unattractive

belles-lettres? Probably its followers wrote poor tendentious
novels and tales? B ut the point is that the Germans class among
belles-lettres (the so-called schonen Wissenschaften) not only
poetry (Dichtkunst) but also oratory (Redekunst). That is why
the degeneration of true socialism into belles-lettres means its
degeneration into unattractive rhetorics, as a Russian writer
w o u l d put it. We w ill recall that in Belinsky the word belleslettres did not have the same meaning as we give it now.
[On German, or true, socialism, cf. Fr. Mehring, Geschichte
der deutschen Sozialdemokratie, I Theil, S. 199-203819 (first edition).
This trend is characterised in greater detail by Mehring in his
explanatory notes to the works of Marx and Engels published
by him (^4ks dem literarischen Nachlass, etc.. Vol. I I , pp. 349-74).
Professor Adler's book Geschichte der ersten sozialpolitischen Bewegungen m Deutschland is interesting in this respect m ainly by the
excerpts it contains from the works of true socialists, especially
M. Hess and K. Griin. A scientific characteristic of the la Iter
is contained in M arxs article: K arl Griin: Die soziale Bewegung
in Frankreich und Belgien oder die Geschichtsschreibung des
wabren Sozialismus , 320 which appeared originally in Westfalischen
Darnpfboot,321 August-October 1847, and was then reprinted
in Neue Zeit, Nos. 1-6, 1899-1900. Last but not least, mention
must be made of a few extraordinarily substantial and correct
although very rigorous pages of the Manifesto of the Communist
Party on true socialism (Chap. I l l , pp. 29-33 of my translation,
1900 edition). Mr. Struve's articles in Neue Zeit (Nos. 27 and 28
of 1895-96 and 34 and 35 of 1896-97) have now lost nearly all
their interest. The first sets forth the content of two articles by
Marx one of which has now been published in fu ll by Mehring
(the article on Hermann Kriego Aus dem literarischen Nachlass ,
II B ., S. 415-45) and the other (on K arl Griin) reprinted in the
above-mentioned issues of Neue Zeit; the second article of
Mr. P. Struve, Studien und Bemerkungen zur Entwickelungsgeschichte des wissenschaftlichen Sozialismus is devoted to the
history of the idea of the class struggle". According to him Lorenz
von Stein appears as the first to have proclaimed this idea, at
least in German literature. Mr. Struve thinks Marx borrowed it
from Stein. This is an unfounded and completely improbable
guess. In order to corroborate it, Mr. Struve should have proved
that at the time of publication of L. von Stein's book on French
socialism Marx still had no knowledge of the works of the French
historians of the period of the Restoration, who already firmly
adhered to the idea of the class struggle. Mr. Struve did not
prove and w ill never be able to prove that. (For the reader inter
ested in this question I allow myself to refer to my foreword
448
G. P LEK HA N O V
to the Manifesto of the Communist Party, 1900 edition.) Mr. Stru

ves article is interesting only from one point of view: it shows
us how high Mr. Struve was in 1896-97, in spite of all the defects
of his thinking and all the gaps in his education, in comparison
with the level to which he sank in his Osvobozhdeniye
That
man developed out of the ape is a very gratifying thing, but
there is nothing sadder than the opposite metamorphosis from
man to ape.
[The true German socialists erred in theory by having no idea
of economics generally and of the class struggle in particular;
in practice their gravest fault was their negative attitude to
politics". K arl Griins attacks on the liberal movement of the
German bourgeoisie at the time would be now readily subscribed
to by any of our defenders. Marx was extremely severe in his con
demnation of this enormous error; this was one of the many
services he rendered. B ut in condemning the true socialists
one must remember that the question of socialisms attitude to
politics was incorrectly solved by the utopian socialists in all
countries. Russia is no exception to the general rule; our Narodniks
and Narodovoltsi also coped very badly with this problem. More
than that, even now rather strange views are spread among the
Russian Social-Democrats as far as the political tasks of the
working class are concerned. It suffices to recall the talk about
the seizure of power by the Social-Democrats during the now impend
ing bourgeois revolution. The supporters of such a seizure forget
that the dictatorship of the working class w ill be possible and
opportune only where it is a case of a socialist revolution. These
supporters (who rally round the paper Proletary323) are returning
to the political standpoint of the late Narodnaya Volya trend.
The founders of scientific socialism had a different view of the
seizure of power. The worst thing that can befall a leador of an
extreme party, says Engels in his book Der deutsche Bauernkrieg,
is to be compelled to take over a government in an epoch when
the movement is not yet ripe for the dom ination of the class which
he represents, and for the realisation of the measures which that
domination implies. W hat he can do depends not upon his will
but upon tho degree of contradiction between the various classes,
and upon the level of development of the material means of
existence, of tho conditions of production and commerce upon
which class contradictions always repose. W hat he ought to do,
what his party demands of him , again depends not upon him or
the stage of development of the class struggle and its c o n d itio n s ,
lie is bound to the doctrines and demands hitherto p r o p o u n d e d
which, again, do not proceed from the class relations of tte
moment,* or from the more or less accidental* level of production
.3M
* |Italics by Plekhanov.]
r
___________ NOTES TO ENGELS BOOK L. F E U E H B A C I I __________ 449
commerce, but from his more or less penetrating insight into

the general result of the social and political movement. Thus,
he necessarily finds himself in an insolvable dilemma. W hat he
can do contradicts all his previous actions, principles and imme
diate interests of his party, and what he ought to do cannot be
done. In a word, he is compelled to represent not his party or his
class, but the class for whose dom ination the movement is then
ripe. In the interests of the movement he is compelled to advance
the interests of an alien class, and to feed his own class w ith phrases
and promises, and with the asseveration that the interests of that
alien class are their own interests. Whoever is put into this awk
ward position is irrevocably lost 824 (quoted by me in Our Differ
ences, pp. 288-89).
It would be useful for Lenin and the Nietzscheans and Machists
surrounding him to give this some thought. But there are grounds
to fear that these supermen have lost the a bility to think. ]sas
(7)328 W hat is the meaning of to deny the possibility of know
ing the world or not to consider complete knowledge of it
possible? We shall see this presently.
I cannot doubt my own existence for a minute; it is vouched
for by my own internal conviction which nothing can refute.
Judging according to common sense, the reader may add,
it seems that it may be conceded that there are no grounds for
doubting the existence of the paper on which you are w riting
those lines. A t another time I would not doubt of it, but now I
have been seized with a desire to philosophise and for the philos
opher the current judgements of common sense are not always
convincing. I ask the reader: of which existence of the paper are
you talking? If you assume that it exists outside of me, that it is
one of the objects that make up what is called the external world,
1 will ask you another question: How do you know of the existence
of those objects? [What vouches to you for the existence of the
external world?] Your external senses tell you of it, it is testified
to you by your sensations: you see this paper and feel this desk.
That is undeniable. But that means that you are dealing, properly
speaking, not with objects but with sensations and w ith conceptions
arising from them. You only conclude as to the existence of these
objects on the basis of your sensations. But by what w ill you
prove the correctness of such a conclusion? Y ou th in k that the
objects cause the sensations. B u t leaving aside the question of
how consistent your conception of cause in general is, I would ask
you to explain to me why you are so sure that the cause of your
sensations lies outside you and not in yourself. It is true that you
re in the habit of d iv iding your sensations into two categories:
1 ) those whose cause lies w ithin you; 2 ) those which are caused
by objects outside you. But that is only a habit. How do you
and
2901329
450
G. P LEK HA N O V
know that this habitual classification of sensations is not a consequence of the properties of your ego , which is conscious of
itself only insofar as, by an unconscious act of creation, it creates
and counterposes to itself, in ils very self, the outer world, what
is not your ego"? It seems more probable to me that this is exactly
what takes place in reality, and that there is no external world
at all, no world existing outside my ego".
W hile giving vent to your indignation at my sophism" I shall
continue philosophising. But now I shall abandon the standpoint
of subjective idealism, whose most prominent representative was
Fichte, and change into a sceptic.
I open H um es book Investigation of Hum an Reason and read
you the following passage from Chapter X I I . It seems evident
that men are carried, by natural instinct or prepossession, to
repose faith in their senses.... I t seems also evident that, when
men follow this b lin d and powerful instinct of nature, they
always suppose the very images, presented by the senses, to be
the external objects, and never entertain any suspicion, that the
ones are nothing but representations of the others.... But if
philosophy wanted to prove that instinct does not deceive man,
it would have extreme difficulty. Tho decisive argument can be
taken only from experience; but here experience is silent and
must be silent ; we are dealing only w ith images and shall never
be able to check their connection w ith objects. That is why reason
gives no grounds whatsoever for adm itting any such connection.
Of course this need not embarrass us. A ll such arguments are
only fruitless play of the m ind. The sceptic himself would be
embarrassed if he were asked what he really wants, what he is
aim ing at w ith his clever arguments. Man must act, reason and
believe , although, in spite of a ll his efforts, he cannot be comple
tely sure of the ultim ate basis of his actions and his reasoning.
B ut, a ll the same, in philosophy one must not lose sight of this
im possibility. It must be remembered that the field of knowledge
of the world accessible to us is lim ited by fairly narrow bounds.
We are not even in a position to understand the true nature of
the causal connection between one phenomenon and another.
Thousands of times we have seen a stone fallin g to the ground.
Therefore we believe that it w ill always fall unless some s u p p o r t
prevents it. B ut our belief is founded only on habit. Reason does
not make it obligatory, and cannot do so. I t does not vouch to us
that what we call a law of nature is im m utable.
Let us go further. Let us remember the basic proposition in the
philosophy of K a n t, who was influenced by H um es scepticism*
Outside us there exist objects of some kind. But exactly w h a t
kin d, we do not know. A ctually we are dealing only w ith our
own sensations and w ith images of those objects which are f o r m e d
NOTES TO ENGELS' BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
451
in us on the basis of the sensations. Hut sensation, and consequent

ly the image of the object, is the resultant of two forces: the
properties of the objects which produce a certain impression on
us and those of the receiver which receives the impressions, the
properties of our ego , which groups them in a certain manner,
disposes them and connects them in a manner conforming to its
own nature. It is already obvious from this that our ideas of objects
cannot be sim ilar to the objects which give rise to them, that our
images are one thing and things as they exist in themselves are
another. Nor is that all. We said that our ego groups the impres
sions it receives from external things (things in themselves which
are inaccessible to us) in a manner conforming to Us own nature.
But how does it group them, how does it dispose and connect
them? We see things in space. The question is: does space exist
in itself? Experience cannot give a direct answer to this question.
As for reason, the presumption that space exists outside us and
independently of us leads it to contradictory conclusions; it
remains to presume that space (just as time) is nothing but a form
of our contemplation (or outlook, as some Russian writers express
it), and that consequently it has absolutely no relation to things
in themselves (to noumena). From images let us go on to concepts
and take, for example, the concept of cause. I t is quite possible
that we are mistaken when we say that phenomenon A is the
cause of phenomenon B. But we are not mistaken when we say
in general that there exists a causal connection between pheno
mena. Abolish the concept of cause and you w ill have nothing
left but a chaos of phenomena which you will understand nothing
at all about. But the point is precisely that it is impossible to
abolish this concept. It is obligatory for us, it is one of the forms
of our thinking. We shall not enumerate the other forms, but
shall merely say thal as ftirms of our thinking they lose all signi
ficance as soon as we talk of things as they exist in themselves,
independently of our thin k ing . In other words, what we call
laws of nature extend only to the world of phenomena which
exists in our consciousness, and the noumena (things in them
selves) are not at all subject to those laws.
Thus K a n ts doctrine on the world of phenomena contains two
elements: 1 ) a subjective idealist element: the form of our contem
plation or thought, of knowledge in general; 2 ) a realistic ele
ment: the indeterminate material which the noumena give us
and which is processed by our consciousness. K an t calls his
Philosophy transcendental idealism. As our concept of natural
necessity is not applicable to the world of noumena, it can be
consideredby anybody who wishes as a kingdom of complete
freedom. In this world all those spectresGod, the im m o rta lity
f the soul, freedom of w ill which do not lit in with the concept
29*
452
G. PLEKHANOV
of conformity to law can find their place. K a n t, who fought

these spectres in his Critique of Pure Reason, lays down his arms
before them in his Critique of Practical Reason, i.e ., when it is
a question of action, not of abstract speculation.
This dualism is the Achilles heel of K a n ts idealism. By the
way, its inconsistency is apparent even from the standpoint
of K a n ts premises.
[For example, what is a phenomenon in the sense of K a n ts
philosophy? It is the resultant of two forces:
1) Action on our ego by those objects (noumena) which exist
outside us* and are known to us not in themselves, but only
through the intermediary of the impressions they produce upon us;
2 ) the properties of our ego, which processes according to these
properties the impressions which it receives from the thing in
itself.
But if the phenomenon is caused by the action upon us of the
thing in itself, the action of this thing is the cause of the pheno
menon. And yet, according to K a n ts doctrine, the category of
causality is applicable only within the limits of the world of pheno
mena but is inapplicable to the thing in itself. There are only two
ways out of this obvious contradiction which has already been
pointed out in German philosophy of the end of the eighteenth
century: either we continue to m aintain that the category of
causality is inapplicable to things in themselves and conseq
uently reject the thought that the phenomenon is brought forth
by the action upon us of the thing in itself; or we continue to
consider this thought as correct and then adm it that the category
of causality is applicable to things in themselves. In the first
case we are taking the direct road to subjective idealism, because,
if the thing in itself does not act upon us, we know nothing of its
existence and the very idea of it must be declared unnecessary,
that is, superfluous in our philosophy; in the second case we enter
upon the path of materialism, for the materialists never affirmed
that we know what things are in themselves, i.e., independently
of their action upon us, but only m aintained that these things
are known to us precisely because they act upon the organs of our
*
In 32 of K ants well-known work Prolegomena zu einer jeden Metaphysik,
die als Wissenschaft wird auf Ireten konnen which appeared after his Critique
of Pure Reason, we read: In der That, wenn wir die Gegenstiinde der Siun,
wie billig, als blosse Erscheinungen ansehen, so gestehen wir hierdurcli (loci)
zugleich, dass ihnen eiu Ding an sich selbst zu Grunde liege, nb wir ilassoll"
gleich nicht, wio es an sich beschaffen sei, sondern nur seine Erscheini)W{>
3 .i. die Art, wie unsere Sinne von diesem unhekannten Etwas affiziert war
den kennen. (In fact, if, as we should, we consider the objects of our exter
nal senses as simple phenomena, we thereby, however, acknowledge that
there underlies them tne thing in itself, although we do not know its prop
erties, but only the way in which it affects our senses.)
NOTES TO E N G E LS BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
453
senses and in the very measure in which they act upon them. We
do not know either the essence or the true nature of matter,
says Holbach, although by its action upon us we can judge of
some of its properties. For us, matter is what acts in one way
or another upon our senses. * 327 If Lange wrote in his History of
Materialism (Vol. I, p. 349 of the Russian translation, where he
deals precisely with Holbach) that ...m aterialism obstinately
considers the world of sensuous appearance as the world of real
things , 328 this is explained only by the fact that he obstinately
refused to understand materialism. But however this may be,
the question of the unknowableness of the external world in both
the cases I have mentioned is settled positively. Indeed, if we
go on to the standpoint of subjective idealism it w ill be clear
to us that our ego is capable of knowing the non-ego which it
itself creates. And if we prefer to be materialists, w ith a little
reflection we must come to the conviction that if we, thanks to
the action upon us of things in themselves, know some properties
of these things, than, contrary to Holbachs opinion, their nature
is also known to us to a certain extent, for the nature of a thing
is manifest in its properties. The current counterposition of nature
to properties is completely unfounded and it is precisely this
counterposition lhat has led the theory of knowledge into the
scholastic labyrinth in which K an t got lost and in which the
present opponents of materialism continue to w'ander helplessly.
Goethe, w ith his feeling of a poet and thinker of genuis, under
stood better than K an t, the transcendental idealist", and even
better than Holbach, the m aterialist, where truth lies. He said:
Nichts ist innen, Nichts ist draussen,
Denn was innen, das ist aussen.
So ergreifet ohne SSumniss
H eilig offentlich Geheimniss...320
Those few words may be said to contain the whole gnosiology
of materialism: but neither these words nor the materialist theory
of knowledge can yet be understood by the scholastics who speak
f nothing but the unknowableness of the external world.
Hegel revealed w ith extraordinary clarity the logical, or,
*1 you prefer, the gnosiological, error which underlies all argu
ments that things in themselves are inaccessible to our knowl
edge. It is, indeed, impossible for us to answer the question what
8 thing in itself is. And the reason for this is very simple: the
p .* Still more decisive in this senso is the English materialist Joseph
n.iif- ey (cf- ,his Disquisitions Relating to Matter and Spirit, Vol. I, second
ition, Birmingham, M D C C L X X X II, p. 134). True, according to the spirit
Wi
VBnety of materialism, which is fairly close to Ostwalds energetics ,
nestley goes too far, but that is indifferent to us here.
454
G. P LEK HA N O V
question what, is!" presupposes that tlio thing in question has

properties which must be pointed out; this question has any sense
only with this presumption. But philosophical people" who indulge
in talk about the unknowableness of things in themselves prelimi
narily make abstraction of a ll properties of the thing and by this
abstraction make the question absurd and therefore the answer
impossible. K a n ts transcendental idealism, Hegel says, trans
ports into consciousness all the properties of things, in relation
to both form and content. It is understandable that from this
standpoint it depends only on me, on the subject, that the leaf
of the tree appears to mo green, not black; that sugar sweet, riot
bitter, and that when the clock strikes two, 1 perceive its strokes
successively, not simultaneously and that I do not consider the
first stroke as either the cause or the effect of the second , etc.
(Wissenschaft der Logik, I Band, 1. A b th., S. 55; 11 A bth., S. 150.
Priestley in his Disquisitions and also in his polemic w ith Pricexi
made, before Hegel, many most apt remarks about what, pro
perly, must be understood by the world knowledge.)
But pardon, the reader may object, is not light or sound some
thing quito subjective? Is the perception of sound or colour simi
lar to that kind of movement by which it is caused, according
to the teaching of modern natural science? Of course, it is not.
But if iron at different temperature has different colours, there
is an objective cause of this which does not depend on the qualities
of my spiritual organisation. Our famous physiologist Seclienov
was perfectly right when he wrote that every vibration or change
of sound according to intensity, pitch or duration that wo feel,
corresponds to a perfectly definite change in the sound movement,
in reality. Sound and light as sensations are products of the
organisation of man; but roots of tho forms and movements which
we see, just as the modulations of sound which we hear, lie outside
us in reality" (Objective Thought and Reality" in the collection
Help for the Hungry published by Russkiye Vedomosti, p. 188).
Sechenov adds: Whatever the external objects may be in themselves,
independently of our consciousness even if it be granted that our
impressions of them are only conventional signs the fact remains
that the similarity or difference of the signs we perceive corresponds
with a real similarity or difference." In other words, the similari
ties or differences man finds in the objects he perceives are real simi
larities or differences (ibid., p. 207).331 This again is true. Only
we must note that Mr. Sechenov does not express himself quite
precisely. When he admits that our impressions may be only
conventional signs of things in themselves he seems to a c k n o w l *
edge that things in themselves have some kind of a p p e a r a n c e
that we do not know of and which is inaccessible to our c o n s c i o u s
ness. But appearance is precisely only the result of the actio 11
NOTES TO ENGELS' BOOK L. F E U E H B A C H
455
upon us of the things in themselves: outside this action they have

no appearance whatsoever. Hence, to oppose their appearance
as it exists in our consciousness to that appearance of theirs
which they supposedly have in reality means not to realise which
concept is connected w ith the word appearance. Such an impreci
sion of expression underlies, as wo said above, all the gnosiology
of the scholasticism of K antianism . I know that Mr. Sechenov
is not inclined to such scholasticism; I have already said that
his theory of knowledge is perfectly correct, but we must not make
to our opponents in philosophy concessions in terminology which
prevent us from expressing our own thoughts w ith complete
precision. Another reason why I mako this reservation is because
in the notes to the first edition of m y translation of this pamphlet
by Engels I also failed to express myself quite exactly and only
subsequently felt all the awkwardness of that inexactness.
And so, things in themselves have no appearance at all.
Their appearance exists only in the consciousness of those sub
jects on whom they act. The question is now, who are those
subjects? People? No, not only people, but all organisms which,
thanks to certain peculiarities of their structure, have the possi
bility to usee" the external world in one way or another. But the
structure of these organisms is not identical; for that reason the
external world has not for them an identical appearance ; I do
not know how the snail sees things, but I am sure that it does
not see things the same as peoplo do. From this, however, it
does not follow that the properties of the external world have
only subjective significance. By no means! If a man and a snail
move from point A to point B, the straight line w ill be the shortest
distance between those two points for both the man and the
snail; if both these organisms went along a broken line they would
have to expend a greater amount of labour for their advance. Con
sequently, the properties of space have also objective significance,
although they are seen differently by different organisms at
different stages of development.
Nor is that all. W hat is a snail for me? A part of the external
world which acts upon ine in a definite manner determined by my
organism. So that if I adm it that the snail sees tho external
World in one way or another, 1 am obliged to acknowledge that
the appearance in which the external world presents itself to
the snail is itself determined by the properties of this really
existing external world. Thus, the relation of object to subject,
of being to thought, this, Engels says, basic question of modern
Philosophy, presents itself to us in a completely new lig ht. The
counterposition of the subject to the object disappears: the- subject
becomes object too; matter (remember H olbachs definition: for
Us matter is what acts in one way or another upon our senses)
<456
G. P LEK H A N O V
turns out under definite conditions to be endowed w ith conscious

ness. This is the purest materialism; but it is the only at a ll
satisfactory answer not contradicting science to the question of
the relation of subject to object.
Further. K a n t places his theory of knowledge outside all con
nection w ith the doctrine of development which dominates science
today and to the substantiation of which he himself contributed
so much by his work A llgemeine Theorie und Geschichle des Himmels.
This is a great shortcoming, which is naturally explained by the
state of biology contemporaneous to K a n t but is clearly felt
now by certain biologists who place K an t's philosophy very high.
As an example 1 shall point out an interesting article by Profes
sor Reinke, K a n ts Erkenntnisslehre und die moderne Biologic"
in Deutsche Rundschau, issue of Ju ly 1904.
Reinke finds that modern natural science, especially biology,
does not fit in w ith K a n ts teaching on the a priori properties
of hum an reason.
K a n t, as we know, says that the category of causality is inap
plicable to things in themselves, and applicable only lo phenomena,
and this because causality is introduced into phenomena by our
reason, is an a priori law of nature. Generally, according to Kant,
reason serves as the source of all order in nature, since it dictates
its laws to nature. This is what embarrasses Reinke. Does such
an a priori exist?" he asks. And he answers as follows, Man from
his very b irth, and consequently prior to any experience whatso
ever, is compelled by the properties of his reason to th in k according
to the category of causality and to imagine phenomena in time
and in space (Reinke also calls time and space categories; that
is not a m isprint, but a peculiar way of understanding the doctrine
of the categories, on which I shall not dwell here); but in just
the same way he is compelled by the properties of his organism
to breathe, to move, to take food, etc. As man is part of nature he
is subject to its great law the law of adaptation to the conditions
of existence. And it would be perfectly ridiculous to th in k that
this law of adaptation is prescribed to nature by our reason. But
the spiritual properties of organism too are subject to this law,
for they are also part of nature; they also develop w ith the devel
opment of the organism. A ll forms of adaptation of the organism
to the m edium around i t lungs, branchiae, etc., are given to the
organism just as a priori as the forms of thought. Both these
groups of properties of the organism are acquired by it through
heredity and develop proportionally to its growth from the cell,
in w hich such properties are quite unnoticeable. If we ask our
selves how they were acquired by a given species of anim al we
w ill have to turn to the history of the development of the earth,
but if we take a separate in d iv id u a lman or some other a n im a l^
NOTES TO E N G E LS' BOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
457
all its properties, physical as well as spiritual, are given to it

a priori".
Such is Reinkes reasoning. His arguments are interesting and
correct, but K a n ts a priori acquires a completely new meaning
thanks to him . And Reinke would hardly be approved by K ant.
It is sufficient to say that Reinke refuses to attribute an exclu
sively subjective character to time, space and causality. On the
contrary. Analogy w ith the adaptation of bodily forms leads
me to the conclusion", he says, that a priori laws of thought
would not exist at all if they ... did not correspond to realities
outside us. This already sounds quite materialistic, although
Reinke, being one of the pillars of contemporary neovitalism,
is naturally not a m aterialist. And it goes w ithout saying that
the present neo-Kantians like Cohen, Lasswitz or even Riehl
would not at any price agree w ith what Reinke says about a priori.
But modern biology leaves them no rest.
I do not know , says one German author, how philosophers
who adhere to K a n ts theory of knowledge deal w ith the doctrine
of development. For K a n t, m ans soul was a datum invariable
in its elements. For him it was only a question of determining
its a priori property and deducing all the rest from it, not of
proving the origin of that property. B ut if we proceed from the
axiom that man developed gradually out of a tin y piece of pro
toplasm, we shall have to deduce from the elementary v ita l
manifestations of the cell the very thing which for K an t was the
basis ... of the whole world of phenomena (P. Beck, Die Nachahmung und ihre Bedeuiungjur Psychologie und Volkerkunde, Leipzig,
1904, S. 33). The point is, however, that up to now the K antians
have given no thought to whether their theory of knowledge fits
in w ith the teaching on development and were even very surpised
when anybody suggested that they should thin k of this. I remember
how my K an tian friends shrugged their shoulders in scorn when
arguing w ith Konr. Schm idt I brought forward against K an t the
arguments that P. Beck advances in the passage 1 have just cited.
But tru th is coming into its own and today even such an incorri
gible, we may say, K an tian as W indelband has found himself
forced to ask whether phenomenality" of time (die Phaenomenalitat dor Zeit) can be acknowledged by one who adheres to the
theory of development (cf. his article Nach hundert Jahren
in the collection Z u Ka?it's Gedachtniss, Berlin, 1904, S.
17-18).
W indelband finds that here science sets K antianism a "diffi
cult problem. B ut the problem in the present case is not "dif
ficult , it is sim ply unsolvable.
Development takes place in time and yet, according to K ant,
time is only a subjective form of contemplation. If I hold the
458
G. P LEK HA N O V
philosophy of K a n t, I contradict myself when I speak of what

was before me, i.e., when I did not exist and consequently neither
did the forms of my contemplation: space and time. It is true
that K a n ts disciples tried to get out of this difficulty by the
reference that w ith K an t it is a matter of the forms of contempla
tion and thought, not of the in div id u a l m an, but of the whole of
hum anity. But such a reference is of no help, it only creates new
difficulties.
Firstly, I must adm it either one or the other: either other people
exist only in my imagination and in that case they did not exist
before me and w ill not exist after my death; or they exist outside
me and independently of my consciousness,
in
which ca
idea of their existence before and after me naturally does not
contain any contradiction; but now is the time when new and
insuperable difficulties arise for K ant's philosophy. If people
exist outside me, that outside me" is apparently what thanks to
the structure of my brain appears to me as space. So that space
is not only a subjective form of contemplation; to it corresponds
also a certain objective an sich (in itself). If people lived
before me and w ill live after me, then again to this before me
and to this after me" apparently corresponds some an sich
which does not depend on my consciousness and is only reflected
in that consciousness in the form of time. So that time is not
only subjective either. F in ally , if people exist outside me they
are among those things in themselves on the possibility of know
ing which we materialists are arguing w ith the Kantians. And
if their actions are in any way capable of determining my actions,
and mine are capable of influencing theirs, which he must neces
sarily adm it, who acknowledges that human society and the devel
opment of its culture do not exist only in his consciousness
then it is clear that the category of causality is applicable to the
really existing external world, i.e., to the world of noumena,
to things in themselves. In a word, there is no other way out:
either subjective idealism, leading logically to solipsism(i.e., tho
acknowledgement that other people exist only in my imagina
tion) or tho renunciation of K a n ts premises, a renunciation whose
logical consummation must be the transition to the standpoint
of materialism as I already proved in my argument w ith Konrad
Schm idt . 332
Let us go further. Let us transport ourselves in thought to the
time when only very remote ancestors of man existed upon the
earth, for example in the Secondary Period. The question is:
how did the matter of space, tim e and causality stand then? Whose
subjective forms were they then? Subjective forms of the ichthyo
saurus? And whose reason dictated its laws to naturo then? Thfl
reason of the archaeopteryx? K a n ts philosophy cannot give any
NOTES TO E N G E LS HOOK L. F E U E R B A C H
459
answer to this question. And it must be rejected as disagreeing

with modern science.
Idealism says: without a subject there is no object. The history
of the earth shows that the object existed long before the subject
appeared, i.e., long before any organism appeared which had any
perceptible degree of consciousness. The idealist says: reason
dictates its laws to nature. The history of the organic world shows
that reason appears only on a high rung of the ladder of devel
opment. And as this development can be explained only by the
laws of nature, it follows that nature dictated its laws to reason.
The theory of development reveals the truth of materialism.
The history of mankind is a particular case of development in
general. That is why what has been said includes the answer to the
question whether K a n ts teaching can be united w ith the mate
rialist explanation of history. Of course, the eclectic can unite
everything in his m ind. W ith the help of eclectic thinking one
can unite Marx not only w ith K a n t, but even w ith the realists
of the Middle Ages. But for people who thin k consistently the
illegal cohabitation of Marx w ith the philosophy of K an t must
appear as something monstrous in the fullest senco of the word.
K ant says in his Critique of Practical Reason that the greatest
obligation of the philosopher is to be consistent, but that this
is precisely what we most seldom meet w ith. One cannot help
recalling this remark of his in connection w ith K ant himself
and with the journeymen and novices of philosophy who want
to unite him w ith Marx.
The critics of Marx", including the above-mentioned armer
Konrad, have shouted much and loud that Engels showed utter
misunderstanding of K an t when he said that the teaching of the
unknowableness of the external world was refuted best of a ll by
experiment and industry. In actual fact Engels was absolutely
right. Every experiment and every productive activity of man
represents an active relation on his part to the external world,
a deliberate calling forth of deiinite phenomena. And as a pheno
menon is the fruit of the action of a thing in itself upon me (K ant
says: the affecting of me by that thing), in carrying out an experi
ment or engaging in production of this or that product, I force
the thing in itself to affect my ego in a definite manner deter
mined beforehand by me. Consequently, I know at least some of
its properties, namely those through whose intermediary 1 force
it to act. But that is not all. By forcing this thing to act upon
nie in a certain way, I enter into a relation of came towards it.
But K ant says that the category of cause has no relation whatso
ever to things in themselves ; consequently, experience here
refutes him better than he refuted himself when he said that the
category of cause is related only to phenomena (not to tilings in
G. P LEK HA N O V
themselves) and at the same time m aintained that the thing

in itse lf acts upon our ego , in other words, that it is the cause
of phenomena. From this again it follows that K an t was seriously
mistaken when he said that the forms of our thought (categories,
or basic concepts of reason ,'e .g ., causality, interaction, exis
tence, necessity) are only a priori forms", i.e., that things in them
selves are not subjected to causal relations, interaction, etc.
In reality the basic forms of our thought not only correspond
completely to the relations existing between things in themselves,
they cannot fa il to correspond to them, because otherwise our
existence in general, and consequently the existence of our forms
of thought would be made impossible. It is true that we are
quite capable of error in investigating these basic forms: we may
take for a category what is not a category at all. B ut that is
another question, not directly related to the present one. In
connection w ith it we shall merely make one remark: when we
speak of the knowableness of the external w orld, we do not at all
mean thereby th a t any philosopher you come across has the cor
rect conception of it.
W ell, granted that K an t is wrong, granted that his dualism
cannot withstand criticism. But the very existence of external
objects is all the same s till not proved. How w ill you prove that
Hume is not right, that the subjective idealists, for example
Berkeley, whose views you set forth at the beginning of this note,
are not right?
I do not even consider it necessary to give an answer concerning
subjective idealism. I t is useless to argue w ith one whose mind
can be satisfied w ith this philosophy which logically leads, as we
have said above, to solipsism-, but we can and must request him
to be consistent. And consistency for a man like him means, for
example, to deny even the act of his own birth; the solipsist who
does not recognise anything but his own ego would, of course,
commit a great error in logic, a real salto mnrtale of the mind,
if he adm itted that his mother exists or existed otherwise than
in his im agination. And yet nobody perceived" himself during
the process of his birth; hence the solipsist has absolutely no
grounds for saying that he was born of woman . But only the
m ind of an unfortunate Poprishchin 333 can be satisfied w ith such
idealism. This idealism is nothing but a reductio ad absurdum
of criticism which doubts the knowableness of the external world.
Man must act, reason and believe in the existence of the external
world, said Hume. It remains for us materialists to add that
such b elief is the necessary prelim inary condition for critical
thought in the best sense of the word, that it is the inevitable
salto vitale of philosophy . 1134 The basic question in philosophy is
not solved by opposing ego to non-ego , i.e.. to the external
461
world; such a counterposition can only lead us into the blind

alley of the absurd. The solution of this particular question
requires one to go beyond the lim its of the ego and consider
how it (an organism endowed w ith consciousness) stands in
regard to the external world surrounding it. But as soon as the
question assumes th is the only ra tio n alform, it becomes obvious
that tho subject in general, and consequently m y ego too,
far from dictating laws to tho objective world, represents only
a component part of that world, considered from another aspect,
from that of thought, not of extent, as Spinoza would say, he an
indisputable m aterialist, although historians of philosophy refuse
to recognise him as such.*
This decisive step of thought cuts the Gordian knot of Hume's
scepticism. I t goes w ithout saying that as long as I doubt the
existence of external objects, the question of the causal connec
tion between them necessarily remains before me in the same form
that it assumed w ith Hume: 1 am entitled to talk only of the
consistency of my own impressions, thesource of which is unknown.
But when the work of my thought convinces me that doubt in the
existence of the external world leads my mind to absurdity, and
when I , no longer "dogmatically", but critically , declare the
existence of the external world indubitable, I then, by the very
fact, adm it that my impressions are the result of the action upon
me of external objects, i.e., I attribute an objective significance
to causality.
Of course to a thinker in a certain state of m ind the salto vitale
of thought that 1 alluded to may appear unjustified and he w ill
feel inclined to return to Hume. But Humes standpoint condemns
thought to complete im m o b ility : Hume himself abandoned it
every time he, in a desire to th in k , began to believe in the exis
tence of the external world. That is why a return to Hume is, as
Engels justly remarks, a step back compared with materialism.
Such a step back, by the way, is made in the present time by the
empiriomonists, whose philosophy R iehl quite correctly calls
a renewal of H um es philosophy (Zur E inleitung in die Philosophie
der Gegenwart, Leipzig, 1903, S. 101).]
(8 )33s In this connection it may perhaps be remarked that both
chemistry and biology w ill finally bo reduced, in all probability
to molecular mechanics .330 But the reader sees that Engels is not
talking of the mechanics which the French materialists had not
and could not have in m ind, any more than Descartes, their
*
Cf. Feuerbachs: Was fiir mich, oder subjectiv, ein reingeistiger,
nimaterieller, unsinnlicher Akt, ist an sich, oder objectiv, ein materieller,
siunlicher. (W hat to me, or subjectively, is a purely spiritual, immaterial,
pu sensuous act, is, in itself, or objectively, a material and sensuous one.
Werke, II, 350.)
4(32
G. PLEKHANOV
teacher, had when lie spoke of building an anim al machine".

We can see already from the first part of Descartes work On th's
Passions (Des passions en general, etc.) what mechanical causes
he resorted to in explaining phenomena accomplished in the ani
mal organism. But how little the mechanical outlook of the
French materialist tallies w ith the historical view of nature
is shown best of all by the famous book Systeme de la Nature
( The System of Nature).7 In the sixth chapter of the first part
of this book its authors come up against the question of the origin
of man. Although the thought of his gradual (zoological) develop
ment does not seem to them contradictory", it is clear from every
thing that in their eyes it is a very improbable surmise. If
anybody had objected against such a surmise, if anybody had
told them that nature acts with the help of a definite aggregate
of universal and im m utable laws (as though universal and immu
table laws are contradictory to development!!); if to this they
had added that man, the quadruped, the fish, the insect, the
plant, and so on, have existed for ever and remain for ever immu
table , the authors would not have opposed this either ; they
would merely have remarked that neither was this view contra
dictory to the truths (of mechanical materialism) which they
were expounding. In the end they get out of the difficulty with
these considerations: It is not given to man to know everything;
it is not given to him to know his origin; it is not given to him
to penetrate into the essence of things down to the primary causes;
but he is capable of having reason and good intentions, he is
capable of adm itting sincerely that he does not know what he
cannot know and of not putting incomprehensible words and
absurd propositions in the place of his ignorance (Syst. de la
N at., London edition, 1781. Part I, p. 75). A warning for those
who like to philosophise on the lim its to knowledge of nature.
The authors of The System of Nature explain all the historical
evils of m ankind by lack of reason". The peoples did not know
the true foundations of authority, they did not dare to demand
happiness of their rulers, who were obliged to give it to them....
The inevitable consequence of such opinions was tho degeneration
of politics into the fatal art. of sacrificing the happiness of all to
the caprice of a single one or of a few privileged ones , etc. (Ibid..
p. 291) W ith such views one could light w ith success against
existing privileges , but one could not even th in k of a s c i e n t i f i c
conception of history. IFor more details on this see Beltov, The
Development of the Monistic View of History, and my book Beitrage
zur Geschichle des MaterialismusA
(9)338 W hat is a categorical imperative? W hy does KngeJs
speak of it with such scorn? Is it only because it suggests too high
ideals? |No, it is not.]
NOTES TO E N G E L S ROOK L. F E U E R B A C H
What is an ideal? An ideal, the philistine answers, is a goal

towards which we arc m orally obliged to strive but which is so
high I bat we w ill never reach it. From this the philistine draws
the conclusionan extremely pleasant one for him that faith
in an ideal is compatible w ith actions which, to say the least,
have nothing in common with the ideal . In the seventies there
were such ideal gendarme officers in Russia who when arresting
n nihilist, assured him that socialism was indeed a very good
thing, that nothing better could he imagined, but that at the
same time the ideal was unattainable and that, living on earth,
one must think of what was earthly, and that what was earthly
demanded that he, the ideal gendarme officer, having tracked
down the no less ideal n ih ilis t, should bring him to judgement
and so he was tracking down and bringing to judgement. In all
probability the gendarmes were lying when they spoke of their
striving towards an ideal . But let us take another example. Our
legal Narodniks strived w ith complete sincerity towards their
"ideals. But see what came of their sincere attitude to those
ideals. Their social ideal was a l'reo people , developing indepen
dently, w ithout any hindrances from the government and the
higher estates. Both the government and the higher estates were
completely deleted, if not completely annihilated in the Narod
nik ideal. But what did the Narodniks do to l'ullil their ideals?
Sometimes they sim ply moaned over the disintegration of the
"foundations (they wept over figures , as G. I. Uspensky 339
put it). Sometimes (hey advised the government to increase the
peasants allotments and to lighten the burden of taxation.
Sometimesthese were the most consistent and irreconcilable
they settled on the land . But all this did not bring Russian
reality any closer to the Narodnik ideal. That is why the Narod
niks wept nol only over figures, but over themselves too. They
were conscious of the complete impotence of their ideals. But
what was the cause of this impotence? It is clear: they had no
organic connection between their ideals and reality. Reality went
in one direction and their ideals in another, or, to put it better,
they remained stationary, continuing lo be settled on the land
with Messrs. the liberal Narodniks, so that the distance between
ideals and reality kept increasing, as a result of which their ideals
became more and more powerless day by day. Engels would have
laughed at such ideals, of course, as Hegel indeed did. However,
the mockery would be directed not against the loftiness of the
'deals, but against their very impotence, their severance from the
general course of the Russian movement. Engels dedicated his
entire life to an extremely lofty aim: the emancipation of the
Proletariat. He also had his ideal , but he was not severed for
ever from reality. His ideal was reality itself, but the reality of
464
G. P LEK HA N O V
tomorrow, a reality which w ill be fulfilled, not because Engels

was a man of an ideal, but because the properties of the present
reality are such that out of it , by its own inner laws, there must
develop that reality of tomorrow which we may call Engels'
ideal. Uneducated people may ask us: if the whole point consists
in the properties of the reality, then what has Engels to do with
it, why does he intervene w ith his ideals in the inevitable histor
ical process? Can not the matter do w ithout him? From the
objective standpoint the position of Engels appears as follows:
in the process of the transition from one form to another, reality
seized on him as on one of the necessary instruments of the impend
ing revolution. From the subjective standpoint it turns out that
it was pleasant for Engels to partake in that historical movement,
that he considered it his duty and the great task of his life. The
laws of social development can no more be fulfilled w ithout the
intermediary of people than the laws of nature w ithout the inter
mediary of matter. But this does not in any sense mean that the
personality can ignore the laws of social development. In the
best of cases he w ill be punished for this by being reduced to the
position of a ridiculous Don Quixote.
(In his well-known work WirtschaftundRechtStammlerexpressed
amazement at the Social-Democrats considering, on the one
band, that the revolution of the proletariat is inevitable, and,
on the other, finding it necessary to promote the advent of that
revolution. In his opinion this was just as strange as creating
a party to promote astronomically inevitable eclipses of the
moon. B ut his m aking such a remark showsas does, by the way,
the whole of his bookthat he did not understand the materialist
philosophy underlying modern socialism. Even D . Priestley
says, and quite rightly: Though the chain of events is necessary,
our own determinations and actions are necessary links of
that chain (Disquisitions, Vol. I , p. HO). K ant considered
Priestley a fatalist. B ut where is the fatalism in this? There
is no trace of it, as Priestley pointed out in his argument with
Price.
Let us now speak of the categorical imperative. W hat is it?
K ant calls imperatives rules which have the mark of obligation".
An imperative can be conditional or categorical. A conditional
imperative determines the w ill only in relation to a given desirable
action. A categorical imperative determines the w ill independently
of this or that end in view; it determines the w ill as such, even
before I ask myself whether I have sufficient a b ility to produce
the action I have in view or what I must do to produce it . B e s i d e s
the mark of obligation, the categorical imperative has, there
fore, the mark of unconditional necessity. If somebody is told
that he must work and put money aside for a rainy day, this JS
405
,j conditional imperative; he must put money aside only if he does

n0t want to be in need when he is old and has no other means of
protecting himself against poverty. B u t the rule not to make false
promises applies only to m an s w ill as such and does not depend
0n the aims pursued by that man. By this rule the act of w ill is
determined a priori. This is a categorical imperative. Con
sequently," K ant says, practical laws apply only to the w ill,
independently of what is created by its causality, and one can
renounce the latter in order to have these laws pure. (Critique of
Practical Reason, Russian translation by N . M. Sokolov, St. Peters
burg, 1897. p. 21.)
There is, properly, only one categorical imperative which says:
act only in accordance with such a rule as you could desire to elevate
to a universal law (Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten, Leip
zig, 1897, S. 44).
To explain his thought K an t cites several examples. A particu
lar person is so unhappy that life has become a burden for him
and ho asks whether it is permissible to k ill himself. Where must
the answer to this question be sought? In the categorical impera
tive. W hat would happen if suicide were made a univorsal law?
What would happen is that life would cease. Therefore, suicide
does not conform to m orality. Another example. Somebody has
trusted his chattels to the safe keeping of another m an. Is it per
missible for the other man to keep it for himself? To K an t this
question too seems just as easy to solve w ith the help of the cate
gorical imperative: if all people appropriated what they had been
entrusted w ith to them nobody would give property for safe
keeping. A third example. A well-to-do m an could help a poor
man but refuses to do so. Is this not contrary to moral duty?
It is: nobody can desire that such conduct should be the general
rule, since each may find himself in difficulty.
These examples provide a good explanation of K ant's thought,
but they also reveal its groundlessness. Hegel has already noted 340
that the example of giving chattels for safe keeping is not convinc
ing, for one can ask: where is the harm if things are not entrusted
for safe keeping? And if anyone replied that it would then be more
difficult to guard chattels and that property itself would be impos
sible in the end, it could also be objected, what is property needed
for? K a n ts teaching, as Hegel says, does not contain a single
law of m orality clear in itself, w ithout any further arguments
and without contradictions, independently of other qualifications.
This is correct and it is especially noticeable in the example of
suicide. Indeed, in this example it is a question of the suicide
not of all people generally, but only of such as are broken by the
difficult struggle of life, and the suicide of such people would not
put an end to life.
01329
466
G. PLEKHANOV
Besides, Hegel says that w ith K an t each definite law of moral

ity is an empty statement, a meaningless tautology like tlio
formula A = A , chattels entrusted for safe keeping are chattels
entrusted for safe keeping, property is property. That is also
correct and quite comprehensible. For K a n t there sim ply existed
no such questions as those which Hegel counterposes to his
empty statements : Where is the harm if things are not entrusted
for safe keeping? W h y is property needed? etc. K ant's ideal, his
kingdom of aims (Reich der Zwecke, cl. Grundlegung, p. 58)
was an abstract ideal of bourgeois society, whose standards seemed to
K ant to be unquestionable orders of practical reason . Kant's
m orality is bourgeois m orality, translated into the language of
his philosophy, whose m ain defect, as we have seen, was tluj
complete in a b ility to cope w ith the questions of development.
To support this I shall dwell on the third example cited above
and borrowed from K a n t himself. But first 1 ask the reader to note
that K an t was a resolute opponent of u tilita rian m orality. In his
opinion, the principle of happiness contains no other bases to
determine the w ill than those which are inherent in the ability
to desire; but reason, determining the w ill, cannot take this
lower a b ility into account. Reason is so different from this ability
that even the slightest admixture of the impulses deriving from
the latter deprives it of its force and superiority, just as the
slightest em pirical admixture, as a condition in a mathematical
proof, debases aud destroys the whole action of the demonstra
tion (Critique of Practical Reason, p. 27). The principle of moral
ity consists in being independent of the desired object.
This being independent of the desired object has long provid
ed occasion for jokes and epigrams (cf. for example 388-38S*
Xenien of Schiller and Goethe). 1 cannot give them here.* All I
wish to say is that the third example cited above from K ant cun
be considered as convincing only in the event of our adopting the
standpoint of utilitarian morality and compelling our practical
reason" to take into account our ability to desire"', for according
to K ant 1 must help others because I also m ay be in need of their
help. W hat could be more utilitarian? Besides, 1 wish to draw
* However, here is one from Xenien
Gewissenskrupel
Gerno dienich den lreunden, doch thu'ich es leider mit NeigunR
Und so wurmt es m ir oft, dass ich nicht tugendhaft bin.
Decisum
Da ist kein andrer Rat, du musst suchen sio zu verachten,
Und m it Abscheu alsdann thun, wie die Pflicht dir gebietet.M1
(i.e., Scruple: I w illingly render services to friends, but unfortunately
do it with inclination and I often have misgivings that I am not virtuon*Decision: There is no other way out: you must try to despise them a||lt
do with repulsion what duty commands you.)
NOTES TO KNZELS' BOOK
FEUERBACH
407
the reader's attention to the circumstance that while objecting

to utilitarianists, Kant always has in m ind tho principle of uper
sonal happinestf' which ho correctly calls the principle of self-love.
And that is precisely why he cannot cope w ith the basic questions
of morality. Indeed, m orality is founded on the striving not for
personal happiness, but for the happiness of lhe whole: the clan,
the people, the class, hum anity. This striving has nothing in
com m on w ith egoism. On the contrary, it always presupposes
a greater or lesser degree of self-sacrifice. And as social feelings
can be transmitted from generation to generation and strengthened
by natural selection (cf. D arw ins most apt remarks on this point
in his book on the origin of m an )342 self-sacrifice can take a form
as if it were a matter of autonomous w ill , without any adm ix
ture of tho a b ility to desire . Blit this indisputable circumstance
docs not in the least preclude the utilitarian principle of this
lofty a b ility . If self-sacrifice were not useful for the particular
society, class, or, finally, the particular anim al species in its
struggle for existence (remember that social feelings are not
characteristic of man alone), then it would be alien to the in d iv id
uals belonging to this society, class or species. That is all.
A particular in d iv id u a l is born w ith an a priori a b ility for selfsacrifice just as it is born according to the remark by Beinke
quoted above (in Note 7) w ith an a priori a bility to breathe
and digest; but there is nothing mysterious in this a prioriuess : it was formed gradually in the long, long process of deve
lopment.
From the standpoint of development and social usefulness
it is easy to solve those questions by means of which Hegel refut
ed K ants moral laws: what is the safe keeping of chattels needed
for? W hy is property needed? etc. B u t I repeatstill more clear
ly in his teaching on m orality than in his theory of knowledge
>s his in a b ility and that of his followers to adopt the standpoint
of development displayed. And here, just as often as in connec
tion w ith K a n ts theory of knowledge, we have to remember
K ants own words: The greatest obligation of the philosopher
is to be consistent, but this is precisely what we most seldom
meet with .
Jacobi, a contemporary of K a n t, revolted against his teaching
n m orality and said in a letter to Fichte: Yes, I am an atheist
and a godless m an, who desires, contrary to a w ill which desires
Nothing, to lie like Desdemona when she was dying; 1 want to lie
nd deceive like Pylades when he tried to pass as Orestes; to k ill
ike Timoleon, to break laws and oaths like Epaminondas and
Jan do W itt; to com m it suicide like Otto; to plunder tho tem ple
jjke D avid and even to pluck ears of corn on the Sabbath just
"<-031180 I am hungry and because the law is made for man.
30*
468
and not man for the law. That is very good, and Hegel was per
fectly right in his opinion that these thoughts of Jacobis were
perfectly pure, since their expression in tho first person, I am'
I dosire', cannot hinder their objectivity .3,13 But the absolutely
correct thought that the law is made for man and not man fop
the law provides an unshakable foundation for utilitarian morality
understood in its true, i.e., objective significance.]
(10)344 Hegel had already noted that it is absurd to consider
historical events from the moral point of view (cf. his Lectures on
the Philosophy of History, p. f>7 of the first edition, Vol. IX of the
complete collection of his works). But our progressive writers"
s till do not understand the correctness of this remark (which,
I adm it, they have yet hardly heard of). They lament with the
utm ost sincerity over the deterioration of morals which accom
panies the disintegration of the ancient foundations" of the
peoples life, foundations on which whole forests of birch-roda
and m ountains of blows have grown. The factory proletariat is
in their eyes a vessel of all kinds of vices. Scientific socialism
takes a different view of the matter. The representatives of scien
tific socialism knew long before progressive Russian writers
noticed it, that the development of capitalism inevitably leads
to what may be called the demoralisation of the workers, i.e., first
and foremost a break w ith traditionally established morality
{cf. for example Engels Die Lage der arbeitenden Kla.sne in
England. Leipzig, 1845, pp. 120 et seq.). But Engels did not
dream of a resumption of patriarchal relationships, and, what
is most im portant, he understood that out of the immorality"
of the factory proletariat there grows a new m orality", the moral
ity of revolutionary struggle against the existing order of things,
which in the end w ill create a new social system in which tlio
workers w ill not be perverted , because the sources of their per
version w ill disappear (pp. 256 et seq.). The contemporary con
d ition of Russian progressive thought can be expressed as fol
lows: we have not even an idea of what really progressive th o u g h t
in the West already knew half a century ago. R eally, there is
enough to drive us to despair!
I Those lines were written in 1892 when our arguments with
illegal Narodism (still in existence as remnants of the N a r o d n a y a
Volya trend) were s till going on and our polemic w ith the legal
Narodniks, which became particularly sharp in the second half
of the nineties, was as yet only in preparation. Now our pro
gressive writers havo no time to mourn over the disintegration
of the ancient foundations" and they no longer regret the appear
ance of the proletariat in our country: life itself has now shown
them how great the revolutionary significance of this class i?!
.and tho progressive press is now lavish in praise of it. Better
NOTES TO E N G E L S BOOK
FEUERBACH
409
late than never, as the saying goes. But I say: better early thai
late- If our progressive people had abandoned their absurd
view of the proletariat as of a mere "ulcer" earlier; if, renouncing'
this view, they had promoted with all their might the develop
ment of consciousness in this class, the infamous Black Hundred
would not now be playing its dangerous role in politics. Stubborn
and persistent defence by the progressive intelligentsia of the
prejudices of Narodism truly constitutes their political crime
for which implacable history is now severely punishing them.]
( I I )45 As for prim itive society, Marxs historical views are
brilliantly corroborated by the studies of Morgan (cf. his Ancient
Society348 which was first published in English; now there is
a German, [Russian] and, if we are not mistaken, a Polish transla
tion). Some dishonest critics m aintain that Morgans conclusions
regarding tribal life are founded only on the study of the social
life of the Red Indians in North America. It is sufficient to read
liis book to be convinced that such critical remarks are complete
ly unfounded. In the same way it is sufficient to become acquaint
ed in detail, i.e., from first sources, w ilh the history of the an
tique world to see how' indisputable is all that Morgan and Engels
say about it (cf. the lattcrs Der Ursprung der Familie, des Privateigenthums und des Staats, i.e., The Origin of the F am ily ,
Private Property and the State.) [But notwithstanding many
scientists malevolent attitude towards Morgan's work, this
man's thoughts of genius have not been lost, for modern ethnology.
Under his influence there has arisen in North America a whole*
school of ethnologists whose works are published in the annual
and extremely noteworthyreports of the Smilhsonian Institu
tion and provide much most valuable data fur the materialist
t'xplanation of the history of prim itive society. Among the works
in Europe based on the studies of Morgan we must include first
r'f all the valuable works of our German comrade II. Cnnow on the
systems of relations among the Australian Negroes, the social
structure in Mexico and the state of the Incas, and finally on
matriarchy in connection w ith the development of the productive
forces in the savage tribes . 347 However, one must adm it when
speaking of Europe, that the influence of Morgans ideas, properly
speaking, is still relatively weak. But there is no doubt lhat hero
too ethnology resorts with increasing frequence lo purely mate
rialist explanations of social phenomena. I do not think that an
("vesl.igator such as Karl von den Steinen would take any interest
ln historical materialism; in his works at least there is not so
much as a hint lhat he is even a little acquainted with this theory,
"t in his instructive book Unter den Naturvdlkern Zentral-BrasiBerlin, 18!)4, this method, recommended by the economic
materialists, is applied invariably from beginning to end, and
470
G. P LEK HA NO V
in the m ajority of cases successfully. Even Ratzel, who considers

it necessary lo defend himself against the reproach of materia
lism (cf. his Viilkerkunde, I I , S. 631), places the development
of spiritual culture in causal dependence on the development
of material culture. lie says: The sum of cultural acquisitions
in each people in each stage of lheir development is made up of
material and spiritual acquisitions. These acquisitions are achiovud
by various means, with differing ease and at different times....
Underlying spiritual cultural acquisitions are the material ones"
(ibid.. Vol. I, p. 17). This is the same historical materialism
but not thought out to the end and therefore partly inconsistent,
partly naive. And we come across the same, so to speak, naturally
grown and therefore naive and more or less inconsistent material
ism in a large number of works on the development of difiereut
special fields of prim itive culture , or, to use M arxs expression,
different ideologies. Thus, the investigation of prim itive art
has taken a firm stand on materialist ground; this could be con
firmed by quoting a long list of works published in Europe aD(l
in the United States of North America, but I w ill confine myself
to indicating the works of Grosse, Die Aufdnge der Kunst, and
of Bucher, Arbeit und Rhythmus, of which there are Russian
translations. It is interesting that this latter work was written
by a man whose view of the basic causes of social development
is directly opposed to the materialist view (as can be seen from
what Biicher wrote about the m utual relations of play and labour).
B ut it is obvious that now even the bourgeois scientist cannot
always avoid the influence of truth, although he finds it unpleas
ant to acknowledge it bocause of some or other prejudices. Every
thing shows that we are now rapidly approaching the time when
what we can now observe in natural science w ill be repeated in
social sciences: all phenomena w ill be given a materialist expla
nation but the basic thought of the materialists w ill be rejected
as being groundless. It is not difficult to understand what explains
this duai attitude to materialism: the consistent materialist
outlook is mainly a revolutionary view of the world, and the edu
cated classes in the Western countries are by no means inclined
towards revolution at present. I l can be seen from an interesting
book written by an American, Edw in R. A. Seligman, The Econo
mic Interpretation of History, New York, 1902, that I am not calum
n iatin g the educated classes. Professor Seligman says expressly
that historical materialism is doing itself a lot of harm in lh
eyes of scientists by its close connection w ith socialism (cf. p. M
of his book) and its alleged absurd exaggerations , including
its negative attitude to religion in general and to C h ris tia n ity
in particular (see the whole of Chapter IV of the book quoted)As Seligman considers the materialist explanation of history
471
to be correct and as he wishes to have its correctness recognised

bv other scientists, he tries to prove that one can adhere to the
materialist explanation of history and not share the atheist and
socialist conclusions at which the enormous m ajority of its
supporters have arrived so far. It must be admitted that Seligjnan is right in his way: with a certain inconsistency the logical
o p e r a t i o n which he suggests is obviously possible. And it would
be useful for social sciences if bourgeois scientists listened to the
advice that Seligman gives them: by renouncing the exaggera
tions of modern Marxism they would, of course, be making a big
mistake. But by rejecting historical materialism outright they
are making not one, but a large number of mistakes; of the two
evils the former would therefore all the same be the'lesser....
However this may be, the late N. M ikhailovsky was cruelly
mistaken when he m aintained in his argument w ith the Russian
pupils of Marx that historical materialism is incapable, because
of its inherent groundlessness, to attract the attention of the
scientific world. The attention of the scientific world is now being
drawn to it from all sides and although bourgeois scientists,
due to the causes pointed out above, still show little inclination
to acknowledge its scientific worth in the m ajority of cases, now
it is not rare even for experts in geography to speak about it in
special works and, for example, certain members of the Berlin
Geographical Society have spared no efforts to fight it. This is
a gratifying sign of the times, and one that is of no little im por
tance.]
|NOTES TO THE F IR S T EDITION IN THE O RIG IN A L

VERSION)
END OF NOTE 6
On German true socialism see the Manifesto of the Communist

Party by Marx and Engels (a new Russian translation of it was
published in Geneva in 1882) and also Adler (not the Adler, the
leader of the Austrian Social-Democrats) Geschichle der ersten
sozialpolitischen Bewegungen in Deutschland. In this same book
which by the way is far from satisfactory the reader w ill aba
learn about the activity of K arl Griin. True German socialism
was one of the varieties of utopian socialism, but it did not con
tain any trace of the profound thoughts for which the works of
such Utopians as Robert Owen, Saint-Simon and Fourier are
remarkable at every step. The supporters of true socialism rose
against politics and could not at a ll understand what the class
struggle is. It is known that certain Russian, no less true, socia
lists, still transgress in the same way. On the question of poli
tics we all now reason differently from the true socialists, we
all acknowledge it as neccesary. B ut that still does not mean that
we all have a correct view of it. Whoever counterposes socialism
to politics, whoever does not understand that every class struggle
is a political struggle, whoever says, for example, let us engage
first in politics, let us overthrow the autocracy, and then
shall go on to socialism , such a man is not a hair breadth above
the views of the utopian socialists, he does not understand the
policy of the working class and he w ill in a ll probability defend
a policy having definitely no direct relation to the political
tasks of the socialists.
END OF NOTE 7
Thus, for example, we know that, according to K a n ts teachingi

things in themselves, when they act upon us give material which
is processed by our consciousness. But as Oberweg correctly
notes (p. 233 of the Russian translation of his History of Philosophy
in Modern Times), action contains the notions of time and of
cause, which, as a priori forms, on the other hand, Kant acknowledges
as having significance only w ithin the w-orld of p h e n o m e n a .
473
n o t beyond it. M any more sim ilar contradictions could be pointed

out, but not, of course, in this short note.
Some German and Russian philosophers like to expatiate on
the subject of the unknowableness of things in themselves. It
seems to them that in doing so they are uttering very profound
truths. But this is a grave error. Hegel was perfectly correct
when he noted that a thing in itself is nothing else than the
abstraction of every definite property, an empty abstraction
about which nothing can be known for the very reason that it is
an abstraction of all qualification. We do not know what a thing
in itself is.... Of course, we do not. The question what is? pre
supposes definite properties of the thing which must be pointed
out; but once we make abstraction of a ll the properties of a thing,
we naturally cannot answer the question what it is because the
impossibility to answer is already contained in the question.
Transcendental idealism transports into consciousness all th&
properties of things, in relation to both form and content. It is
understandable, that from this standpoint it depends only on me,
on the subject, that the leaf of the tree appears to me greeu, not
black; the sun round, not quadrangular; sugar sweet, not bitter,
and that when the clock strikes two, I perceive its strokes succes
sively, not simultaneously, and that I do not consider the first
stroke as either the cause or the effect of the second, etc. (Wissenschaft der Logik, I, Bd., I A bth., S. 55, I I A bth., S. 150).
But pardon, the reader may object, is not colour or sound some
thing completely subjective, is the perception of colour and of
sound the same thing as the movement which causes it? By no
means, but every vibration or transition of sound according to
intensity, pitch or duration that we feel, corresponds to a perfectly
definite change in the sound movement in reality. Sound and light
as sensations are products of the organisation of man; but the
roots of the forms and movements which we see, just as the modu
lations of sound which we hear, lie outside us in reality (Sechenov, Objective Thought and R eality , in the collection Hunger
Relief, published by Russkiye Vedomosti, p. 188). And, generally,
whatever the external objects may be in themselves, independent
ly of our consciousnesseven if it be granted that our impressions
f them are only conventional signs the fact remains that the
sim ilarity or difference of tho signs we perceive corresponds to
>' real sim ilarity or difference. In other words, the similarities or
differences man finds in the objects he perceives are real sim ilari
ties or differences (Sechenov, ib id., p. 207). This cannot be refut
ed and consequently one cannot speak of unknowableness of
things in themselves even if it occurred to somebody to speak of
these things after Hegel showed the logical origin of these alleged
things.
474
G. PLEK HA NO V
Our sensations are in their way hieroglyphs 319 which inform

us of what is taking place in reality. The hieroglyphs do not rosumhie the events conveyed by them. But they can with complete
fidelity convey, both the events thomselves, andwhat is th(*
main thingtho relations existing between them. Engels say*
that Kant's theory is refuted best of all by experiment and indust
ry. The words wo have quoted from Sechenov partly show how
this is to he understood. But perhaps it w ill do no harm to dwell
a little longer on this question. Every experiment and every
industry, that is, production of the things man needs, the delib
erate calling into being of certain phenomena, are an active attitude
of man towards nature. And this active attitude sheds new light
on it, a light far brighter than that which is given by a passive
perception of impressions. Indeed, making use of his knowledge of
the laws of nature, man could build an electric railway. This means
that he himself deliberately calls into being definite phenomena
(the transformation of electricity into movement properly, etc.).
But what is a phenomenon in the sense of K ant's philosophy? It
is the resultant of two forces: 1 ) our "ego", 2 ) the action produced
on that ego by the thing in itself. Consequently, calling forth
a definite phenomenon, I force this thing to act upon my ego"
in a definite manner previously determined by me. Consequently,
I know at least some of its properties: namely those by means of which
1 force it to act. But that is not yet all. Forcing the thing lo
act upon me in a definite manner, I become cause in relation to
it. And K ant says that the category of cause cannot have any
relation to things in themselves; consequently, here experiment
refutes him better than he refuted himself when he said that the
category of cause applies only to phenomena (and not to things in
themselves), and at the same time maintained that things in
themselves act upon our ego", that is, serve as one of the causes
of phenomena. From this it follows that K ant was seriously
mistaken when ho said that tho forms of our thinking (the cate
gories, or basic concepts of reason, for example causality, inter
action, existence, necessity) are only a priori forms", i.e., that
things in themselves are not subject to the causal relation, inter
action, and so forth. In reality the basic forms of our thinking not
only correspond fully to tho relations existing between things in
themselves, they cannot but correspond to them, because our existence
generally, and consequently our "forms of thinking , would be
impossible. It is true that we are quite capable of error in the
investigation of these basic forms; we can take for a category that
which is not a category at all. But that is another question which
has no direct relation to the present one. In connection w ith it we
w ill confine ourselves to a single remark: when we speak of tho
identity of the basic forms of being and of thought we do not at
475
all mean thereby that any philosopher you come across has a com
pletely correct conception of it.
W ell, granted that K ant is wrong, granted that his dualism
c a n n o t withstand criticism, but the very existence of external
objects is still not proved. How w ill you prove lhat tho subjective
idealists are not right, that Berkeley, for example whose views you
set forth at the beginning of this note, is not right? That can be
proved too: read, at any rale, the works of Vberweg on this ques
tion.
END OF NOTE 9
Concerning K a n ts categorical im perative... but do we need

to speak of it? Any history of philosophy will explain it better
than us in the few lines of our note. Read, for one thing, pp. 24556 of the Russian translation of Uberweg-IIeinzes History of
Philosophy in Modern Times. And in particular we recommend
anybody who is interested to know how Hegel ridiculed the cate
gorical imperative pp. 550-81 (first edition of the German original)
of the Phenomenology of Spirit. We really only wished to remark
that if Engels adopts a scornful attitude to non-realisable ideals
it is not because of some philistine-like propensity to be recon
ciled w ith every particular social system; that he scorns only the
Manilov attitude, which, by the way, K ant displayed to no small
degree. Our aim , we think, is achieved.
END OF NOTE It
The role of economic needs and relations in the history of the

ancient Orient is splendidly brought to light in L. I. Mechnikov's
book, La civilisation et les grands fleuves historiques (Civilisation
and the Great Historic Rivers), although its late author did not
set himself exactly that aim. However, tho role of these needs
and relations strikes one forcibly already in the bulky Histoire
ancienne de VOrient {Ancient History of the Orient) by Lenormant.
Concerning medieval history and the origin of medieval insti
tutions we shall refer to Augustin Thierry, Guizot, Maurer and
partly Fustel de Coulanges. F inally, the significance of economic
relations and the class struggle resulting from them in modern
history is brought out with amazing vividness in Marxs excellent
"o rk , Der achtzehnte Brumaire des Louis Bonaparte ( The Eighteenth
Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte). To say nothing of Capital, which
is highly remarkable also as a work of history. In fact, every step
forward in the science of history brings new proofs in favour of
economic materialism. Hence the fact that many historians and
writers now discover independently of Marx (i.e., not having the
slightest idea of his theory) or more exactly, see in a very m isty
476
G. PLEK HA NO V
distancesmall pieces of the long ago discovered America.

Giraud-Teulons book on the history of the fam ily, for one, which
has been translated into Russian, shows that such independence*
of the most im portant historical theory of our times does not g&
unpunished.
Marxs theory of history must still be tho basis of many, many
particular historical investigations. Its significance is far from
being fully clear even to all Marxists. B ut when philosophers
like Paul Barth (see his Geschichtsphilosophie Hegel's und der
Hegelianer) ask w ith surprise in exactly which works the correct
ness of Marxs theory is proved, they thereby only display their
ignorance or their lack of reasoning powers, a lack which Kant
was quite right in acknowledging to be incurable.
BOURGEOIS OF DAYS GONE BY
The almost universal unhappiness of men and of peoples

depends on the imperfection of their laws and the too unequal
distribution of their wealth. In the m ajority of kingdoms there
are only two classes of citizens: one which has not the necessary
and the other which has the superfluous in abundance. The former
can provide for its needs only by excessive labour. This labour is
a physical evil for all and a torture for some.
The second class lives in abundance but also in miserable
boredom. And boredom is an evil almost as fearful as indigence.
Most of the empires must therefore be populated only by unhappy
people. W hat must be done to restore happiness? Dim inish the
wealth of some, increase that of others; place the poor man in
such a state of ease that he may provide abundantly for his needs and
those of his family by working seven or eight hours. I t is then that
he will be about as happy as he can be.3*9
This was the way Ilelvetius reasoned more than a hundred
years ago, convinced that if in general labour is regarded as an
evil, it is because in most states the means necessary for subsis
tence are acquired only by unbearable labour, because as a result
the idea of labour is always connected with the idea of suffer
ing.35" Moderate labour , he added, is in general the happiest
use that we can make of time if we do not surrender to any other
feelings of delight, which, w ithout doubt and notwithstanding all
their brilliance, are less lasting . 361
Helvetius was undeniably a convinced bourgeois. For him the
right of property was the first and most sacred of a ll rights. But
the bourgeois of his time were not like those of today. The bourgeoi
sie were then capable of noble strivings. Fighting the clergy and
he nobility, the powers that be , the lords and the privile
g'd , they were fighting for the cause of entire hum anity. The
ideal of their educated representatives was not a society in which
a few thousand capitalists live by the sweat of m illions of workers.
On the contrary, the philosophers of the eighteenth century dreamed
a society consisting of property-owners unequal in wealth
478
G. P LEK H A N O V
but all independent and every one working for himself. This was
an impracticable dream. It contradicted all the laws of capitalist
production.
But as long as the philosophers cherished this dream they could
not become defenders of the exploiters. And often enough they
said fairly unpleasant things to the latter.
So Helvetius already understood that the interests of employers
are contradictory to the interests of the entire nation as a whole.
In a certain respect , he said, nothing contradicts the national
interest so much as the presence of a too large number of people
who have no properly. At the same time, nothing corresponds bel
ter to the interests of the merchants. The bigger the number of
properlyless, the less the merchants pay for their labour.... And
in a trading country the merchants are often the effective /orce.35*
(Helvetius meant in a country w ith capitalist production.)
Holbach, another philosopher of the revolutionary bourgeoisie,
was indignant at a system under which whole nations must work
and sweat, and water the land with their tears merely to feed the
whims, luxury, fantasy and perverted tastes of a handful of
madmen, a few useless people who cannot be happy because their
disorderly im agination no longer knows any bounds.
Helvetius already foresaw what would be the moral consequencos
of the struggle for existence going on in bourgeois society.
He said that in all countries where money circulation exists
there arises the striving to become rich at any cost. But the pas
sion for enrichment cannot extend to all classes of citizens without
giving rise at the same time among the ruling classes to a propensi
ty to theft and abuse".
Then they start avidly on building ports, producing armaments,
establishing trading companies, and waging wars for the honour
of the nation, according to Lhe favourite expression in a word
on any pretext for plunder. In the state there appear at the same
time all vices, those offshoots of cupidity; they infect all its
members and finally lead the state to ru in . 353
Thus, the Tunisian and Panama scandals were prophesied more
than a century ago.
Circumstances have undergone a great change since the time of
Helvetius. In our days every self-respecting bourgeois considers it.
his sacred duty to oppose the eight-hour working day and all
other demands of the exploited. Whereas the productive forces of
modern societies are developing on a scale so far unheard of, Messrs.
the exploiters w ill not even listen to anything about casing
the labour of the workers. And while, because of the passion for
enrichment, the perversion of the bourgeoisie exceeds every
thing their enemies can imagine, they try to convince us thal the
bourgeois world is the best of all.
B O U R G E O IS
OF
DAYS
GONE
BY
479
W ill we swallow the bait of the sycophants of the bourgeoisie?

The working day that Ilelvetius once dreamed of and which
the working class of the whole world is now demanding w ill not
make the worker about ashappy as he can be". But it w ill give him
a new weapon in the struggle for his complete and final emanci
pation.
Helvetius knew no medicine for the evil which he foresaw.
But we know one, and it is a reliable medicine. I t is the dictator
ship of the proletariat as a means to attain the end which is the social
ist organisation of production.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST VIEW

OF HISTORY
A u d ia tu r et alte ra pars
PREFACE TO THE SECOND AND T H IR D EDITIONS
I have here corrected only slips and misprints which had crept
into the first edition. I did not consider it right to make any
changes in my arguments, since this is a polemical work. Making
alterations in the substance of a polemical work is like appearing
before your adversary with a new weapon, while compelling him
to fight w ith his old weapon. This is impermissible in general,
and still less permissible in the present case because my chief
adversary, N. K. Mikhailovsky, is no longer alive . 354
The critics of our views asserted that these views are, first,
wrong in themselves; secondly, that they are particularly wrong
when applied to Russia, which is destined to follow its own origi
nal path in the economic field; thirdly, that they are bad, because
they dispose their supporters to impassivity, to quietism . This
last stricture is not likely to be reiterated by anyone nowadays.
The second has also been refuted by the whole development of
Russian economic life in the past decade. As to the first stricture,
it is enough to acquaint oneself w ith recent ethnological litera
ture, if w ith nothing else, to be convinced of the correctness of
our explanation of history. Every serious work on prim itive civil
isation is obliged to resort to it whenever the question under
discussion is the causal connection between manifestations of the
social and spiritual life of savage peoples. Witness, for exam
ple, the classical work of K. Steinen, Unter der Naturvolkern
Zentral-Brasiliens. But I cannot, of course, dilate on this subject
here.
I reply to some of my critics in an article appended to this
edition, A Few Words to Our Opponents , which I published
under a pseudonym, and therefore refer in it to my book as if
it were the work of another person whose views are also my
own . 865 But this article says nothing in opposition to Mr. Kud
rin, who came out against me in Busskoye Bogatstvo3he after it had
appeared. 357 In reference to Mr. K udrin, I shall say a couple of
words here.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF TH E MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 481
It might seem that the most serious of his arguments against

historical materialism is the fact he notes that one and the same
religion, Buddhism for instance, is sometimes professed by peo
ples at very different levels of economic development. B ut this
argument may appear sound only at first glance. Observation has
revealed that one and the same religion substantially differs in
content depending on the level of economic development of the
peoples professing it.
I should also like to reply to Mr. K udrin on another point. He
found in my book an error in the translation of a Greek text from
Plutarch (see footnote, p. 142), and is very scathing about it.
Actually, I am not guilty. Being on a journey at the time the
book was published, I sent the manuscript to St. Petersburg w ith
out giving the quotation from Plutarch, but only indicating the
paragraphs which should be quoted. One of the persons connected
with the publication of the bookwho, if I am not mistaken,
graduated from the same classical gymnasium as Mr. K u d rin
translated the paragraphs I had indicated and ... made the mistake
Mr. K udrin points out. That, of course, is a pity. B ut it should
also be said that this mistake was the only blunder our opponents
could convict us of. They too had to have some moral satisfaction.
So lhat, hum anly speaking , I am even glad of the error.
N . Beltov
Chapter I
FRENGH MATERIALISM
OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
If you nowadays , says Mr. M ikhailovsky , 358 meet a young
m a n ... who, even with some unnecessary haste, informs you
that he is a m aterialist , this does not mean that he is a material
ist in the general philosophical sense, in which in olden days we
had admirers of Buchner and Moleschott. Very often the person
with w'hom you are talking is not in the least interested either
in the metaphysical or in the scientific side of materialism, and
even has a very vague idea of them. W hat he wants to say is that
he is a follower of the theory of economic materialism, and that
in a particular and conditional sense.*
We do not know what kind of young men Mr. Mikhailovsky
has been meeting. But his words may give rise to the impression
that the teaching of the representatives of economic materialism
has no connection w ith materialism in the general philosophical
sense. Is that true? Is economic materialism really so narrow
and poor in content as it seems to Mr. Mikhailovsky?
A brief sketch of the history of that doctrine w ill serve as a
a reply.
W hat is materialism in the genei-al philosophical sense?
Materialism is the direct opposite of idealism. Idealism strives
to explain all the phenomena of Nature, all the qualities of matter,
by these or those qualities of the spirit. Materialism acts in the
exactly opposite way. It tries to explain psychic phenomena by
these or those qualities of matter, by this or that organisation of
the human or, in more general terms, of the anim al body. All
those philosophers in the eyes of whom the prime factor is matter
belong to the camp of the materialists; and all those who consider
such a factor to be the spirit are idealists.
That is all that can be said about materialism in general, about
materialism in the general philosophical sense , as time built
up on its fundamental principle the most varied superstructures,
* Russkoye Bogatstvo, January 1894, Section II, p. 98.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF HISTOHY 483
which gave the materialism of one epoch quite a different aspect

from the materialism of another.
Materialism and idealism exhaust the most important tenden
cies of philosophical thought. True, by their side there have almost
always existed dualist systems of one kind or another, which
recognise spirit and matter as separate and independent subslances.
Dualism was never able to reply satisfactorily to the inevi
table question: how could these two separate substances, which
have nothing in common between them, influence each other?
Therefore the most consistent and most profound thinkers were
always inclined to monism, i.e., to explaining phenomena with the
help of some one main principle (monos in Greek means one).
Every consistent idealist is a monist to the same extent as every
consistent materialist. In this respect there is no difference, for
example, between Berkeley and Holbach. One was a consistent
idealist, the other a no less consistent materialist, but both were
equally monistic', both one and the other equally well understood
the worthlessness of the dualist outlook on the world, which up to
this day is still, perhaps, the most widespread.
In the first half of our century philosophy was dominated by
idealistic monism. In its second half there triumphed in science
with which meanwhile philosophy had been completely fused
materialistic monism, although far from always consistent and
frank monism.
We do not require to set forth here all the history of material
ism. For our purpose it w ill be sufficient to consider its develop
ment beginning with the second half of last century. And even
here it w ill be important for us to have in view m ainly one of its
trends true, the most im portant namely, the materialism of
Holbach, Ilelvetius and their supporters.
The materialists of this trend waged a hot polemic against the
official thinkers of that lime who, appealing to the authority of
Descartes (whom they can hardly have well understood), assert
ed that man has certain innate ideas, i.e., such as appear inde
pendently of his experience. Contesting this view, the French
materialists in fact were only setting forth the teaching of Locke,
who at the end of the seventeenth century was already proving
hat there are no innate principles. But setting forth his teaching
he French materialists gave it a more consistent form, dotting
such i's as Locke did not wish to touch upon, being a well-bred
English liberal. The French materialists were fearless sensational
ists, consistent throughout, i.e., they considered all the psychic
functions of man to be transformed sensations. It would de valueless
examine here to what extent, in this or that particular case,
lheir arguments are satisfactory from the point of view of present
l y science. It is self-evident that the French materialists did not
31*
484
G. P LEK HA N O V
know a groat deal of what is now known to every schoolboy: it is

sufficient to recall the views of Ilolbach on chemistry and physics,
even though he was well acquainted w ith the natural science of
his age. R ut the French materialists incontestable and indispens
able service lies in that they thought consistently from the stand
point of the science of their age and that is all that one can and
must demand of thinkers. It is not surprising that the science of
our age has advanced beyond the French materialists of last centu
ry: what is important is that the adversaries of those philosophers
were backward people even in relation to science of that day. True,
the historians of philosophy usually oppose to the views of the
French materialists the view of K ant, whom, of course, it would
bo strange to reproach with lack of knowledge. B ut this contraposi
tion is quite unjustified, and it would not be difficult to show that
both Kant and the French materialists took, essentially, the
same view,* but made use of it differently and therefore arrived
at different conclusions, in keeping w ith the different characteris
tics of the social relations under the influence of which they lived
and thought. We know that this opinion w ill be found paradoxical
by people who are accustomed to believe every word of the histori
ans of philosophy. There is no opportunity to prove it here by
circumstantial argument, but we do not refuse to do so, if our
opponents should require it.
Be that as it may, everyone knows that the French materialists
regarded all the psychic activity of man as transformed sensations
(sensations transformees). To consider psychic activity from this
point of view means to consider all notions, all conceptions and
feelings of man to be the result of the influence of his environment
upon him. The French materialists did adopt this very view. They
declared constantly, very ardently and quite categorically that
man, w ith his views and feelings, is what his environment, i.e..
in the first place Nature, and secondly society, make of him.
L homme est tout education (man dopends entirely on educa
tion), affirms Helvetius, meaning by the word education the sumtotal of social influence. This view of man as the fruit of his environ
ment was the principal theoretical basis for the progressive demands
of the French materialists. For indeed, if man depends on his
environment , if he owes it a ll the qualities of his character, then
he owes it also his defects; and consequently if you wish to combat
his defects, you must in suitable fashion change his environment,
and moreover his social environment in particular, because Nature
makes man neither bad nor good. Put people in reasonable social
*
IPlekhanovs statement about both Kant and the French materialists
taking, essentially, the same view is erroneous. In contradistinction to
Kants agnosticism and subjective idealism, the French materialists of the
eighteenth century believed in cognisability of the external world.1
H. ............
BejibTOBi).
- -
kt
> Bonpocy
0 PA3BHTIH
MOHHGTMECKArO B3FJKUU HA HCTOPIIO

ti
rr.
Audiatur et altera pars.
CUICTEPRyPFb.
TBDorpaiJiis H. H. C u o f o i o j o B i (HuxexAHHCKaa, 43).
IS95.
Title-page of the first edition of The Development

of the Monist View of History
TLtKHA.'oV
n v K p ^ ie & V I
IjTpr
K'ikt^f-N
in r'
t; it>i TmwKJ
liVf tb.
li ili"iL".
"
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 487
relations, i.e., in conditions where the instinct of self-preservalion

of each of them ceases to impel him to struggle against the remain
der: co-ordinate the interests of the individual man w ith the inter
ests of society as a whole and virtue w ill appear of its own
accord, just as a stone falls to the earth of its own accord when it
loses any support. Virtue requires, not to be preached, but to I k?
prepared by the reasonable arrangement of social relations. By Ihe
light-hearted verdict of the conservatives and reactionaries of
last century, the m orality of the French materialists is up to the
present day considered to be an egotistical m orality. They them
selves gave a much truer definition: in their view it passed entirely
into politics.
The doctrine that the spiritual world of man represents the
fruit of his environment not infrequently led the French material
ists to conclusions which they did not expect themselves. Thus,
for example, they sometimes said that the views of man have
absolutely no influence on his conduct, and that therefore the
spreading of one idea or another in society cannot by a hairbreadth
change its subsequent fate. Later on we shall show wherein such
an opinion was mistaken, but at this stage let us turn our attention
to another side of the views of the French materialists.
If the ideas of any particular man are determined by his environ
ment , then the ideas of hum anity, in their historical development,
are determined by the development of the social environment, by
the history of social relationships. Consequently, if we were to think
of painting a picture of the progress of human reason , and if we
were not to lim it ourselves in doing so to the question of how? (in
what particular way did the historical advance of reason take place?),
and put to ourselves the quite natural question of why? (why
did that advance take place just in this fashion, and not otherwise?),
we should have to begin w ith the history of the environment, the
history of the development of social relations. The centre of grav
ity of our research would thus be shifted, at all events in the first
stages, in the direction of studying the laws of social development.
The French materialists came right up against this problem, but
proved unable not only to solve it but even correctly to state it.
Whenever they began speaking of the historical development
of m ankind, they forgot their sensationalist view of man in
general and, like all the philosophers of enlightenment of that
age, affirmed that the world (i.e., the social relations of mankind)
is governed by opinions (c'est /opinion qui gouverne le monde).*
*
I mean by opinion the result of the mass of truths and errors diffused
in a nation: a result which determines its judgements, its respect or contempt,
its love or hate, which forms its inclinations and customs, its vices and
virtues in a word, its manners. This is the opinion of which it must be
said that it governs the world. Suard, Melanges de Litterature, Paris,
An X I I , lome I I I , p. 400.
488
G. P LEK HA N O V
In this lies the radical contradiction from which the materialism

of the eighteenth century suffered, and which, in the reasoning of
its supporters, was divided into a whole series of secondary and
derivative contradictions, just as a banknote is exchanged for
small cash.
Thesis. Man, with all his opinions, is the product of his environ
ment, and m ainly of his social environment. This was the inevit
able conclusion from the fundamental proposition of Locke: there
are no innate principles.
Antithesis. Environment, with all its qualities, is the product of
opinions. This is the inevitable conclusion from the fundamental
proposition of the historical philosophy of the French materialists:
c'est Vopinion qui gouverne le monde.
From this radical contradiction there followed, for example,
the following derivative contradictions:
Thesis. Man considers good those social relations which are
useful to him . He considers bad those relations which are harm
ful to him . The opinions of people are determined by their interests.
L opinion chez un peuple est toujours determinee par un interet
dom inant, says Suard.* W hat we have here is not even a conclu
sion from the teachings of Locke, it is sim ply the repetition of his
words: No innate practical principles.... Virtue generally ap
proved; not because innate, but because profitable.... Good and
E v il... are nothing but Pleasure or Pain, or that which occasions
or procures Pleasure or Pain, to us.**
Antithesis. The existing relations seem useful or harmful to
people, according to the general system of opinions of the people
concerned. In the words of the same Suard, every peoplo ne veut,
n aime, n approuve que ce quil croit etre utile (every people
desires, loves and approves only what it considers useful). Conse
quently in the last resort everything again is reduced to the opin
ions which govern the world.
Thesis. Those are very much mistaken who th in k that religious
m orality for example, the commandment to love ones neigh
boureven partially promoted the moral improvement of mankind.
Such commandments, as ideas generally, are quite devoid of power
over men. Everything depends on social environment and on social
relations.***
* Suard, tome I I I , p. 401.
** Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Book I, Ch. 3; Book II>
Ch. 20, 21, 28.
*** This principle is more than once repeated in Holbachs Systeme
de la Nature. It is also expressed by Helvetius when he says: Lot us suppose
that I have spread the most stupid opinion, from which follow the most revolt
ing consequences; if I have changed nothing in the laws, I w ill chauge nothing
in manners either (De VHomme, Section V II, Ch. 4). The same opinion is
frequently expressed in his Correspondance Littiralre by Grimm, who lived
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 489
Antithesis. Historical experience shows us que les opinions

furent la source veritable des maux du genre huraain
and this is quite understandable, because if opinions generally
govern the world, then mistaken opinions govern it like blood
thirsty tyrants.
It would be easy to lengthen the list of sim ilar contradictions
of the French materialists, inherited from them by many materi
alists in the general philosophical sense" of our own age. But this
would be unnecessary. Let us rather look more closely at the gen
eral character of these contradictions.
There are contradictions and contradictions. When Mr. V.V.
contradicts himself at every step in his Destinies of Capitalism or
in the first volume of his Conclusions from an Economic Investiga
tion of Russia,369 his sins against logic can be of importance only as
a human document: the future historian of Russian literature,
after pointing out these contradictions, w ill have to busy himself
with the extremely interesting question, in the sense of social
psychology, of why, with all their indubitable and obvious charac
ter, they remained unnoticed for many and many a reader of
Mr. V.V. In the direct sense, the contradictions of the writer
mentioned are as barren as the well-known fig-tree. There are con
tradictions of another character. Just as indubitable as the contra
dictions of Mr. V .V ., they are distinguished from the latter by
the fact that they do not send human thought to sleep, they do not
retard its development, but push it on further, and sometimes push
it so strongly that, in their consequences, they prove more fruit
ful than the most harmonious theories. Of such contradictions one
may say in the words of Hegel: Der Widerspruch ist das Fortleitende (contradiction leads the way forward). It is just among
these that the contradictions of French materialism in the eigh
teenth century must bo rightfully placed.
Let us examine their main contradiction: the opinions of men are
determined by their environment; the environment is determined by
opinions. Of this one has to say what K ant said of his antinom i
es the thesis is just as correct as the antithesis. For there can
be no doubt that the opinions of men are determined by the social
environment surrounding them. It is just as much beyond doubt
that not a single people w ill put up w ith a social order which
contradicts all its views: it w ill revolt against such an order, and
^construct, it according to its own ideals. Consequently it is also
true that opinions govern the world. But then in what way can
sacrees
|or long among the French materialists and by Voltaire, who fought the
Materialists. In his Philosophe Ignorant, as in many other works, the Patnrch of Ferney endeavoured to demonstrate that not a single philosopher
nau ever yet influenced the conduct of his neighbours, since they were guided
*n their acts by customs, not metaphysics.
G. P LEKHANOV
I wo propositions, true in themselves, contradict each other? The

explanation is very simple. They contradict each other only
because we are looking at them from an incorrect point of view.
From that point of view il seems and inevitably must seem_
that if the thesis is right, then the antithesis is mistaken, and vice
versa. 13ut once you discover a correct point of vieu% the contra
diction will disappear, and each of the propositions which confuse
you w ill assume a new aspect. It w ill turn out to be supplement
ing or, more exactly, conditioning the other proposition, not exclud
ing it at all; and if this proposition were untrue, then equally
untrue would be the other proposition, which previously seemed to
you to be its antagonist. Bul how is such a correct point of view
lo be discovered?
Let us take an example. It often used to be said, particularly
in the eighteenth century, that the constitution of any given people
was conditioned by the manners of that people; and this was quite
justified. When the old republican manners of the Romans disap
peared, their republic gave way to a monarchy. But on the other
hand it used no less frequently to be asserted that the manners of
a given people are conditioned by its constitution. This also cannot
be doubted in the least. And indeed, how could republican man
ners appear in the Romans of the time, for example, of Heliogabalns? Is it not patently clear that the manners of the Romans during
llie Empire were bound to represent something quite opposite to
the old republican manners? And if it is clear, then we come to the
general conclusion that the constitution is conditioned by manners,
and manners by the constitution. But then this is a contradic
tory conclusion. Probably we arrived at it on account of the
mistaken character of one or the other of our propositions. Which
in particular? Rack your brains as you w ill, you w ill not discover
anything wrong either in one or in the other; they are both irre
proachable, as in reality the manners of every given people do
influence its constitution, and in this sense are its cause, while on
the other hand they are conditioned by the constitution, and in
this sense are its consequence. Where, then, is the way out? Usual
ly, in questions of this kind, people confine themselves to dis
covering interaction-, manners influence the constitution and the con
stitution influences manners. Everything becomes as clear as
daylight, and people who are not satisfied with clarity of this
kind betray a tendency to one-sidedness worthy of every condem
nation. That is how almost all our intellectuals argue at the pres
ent time. They look at social life from the point of view of inter
action: each side of life influences all others and, in its turn, expe
riences the influence of all the others. Only such a view is worthy
of a thinking sociologist, while those who, like the Marxistskeep on seeking for some more profound reasons or other for soci-
US!
JfW
2**?* 2 L
Z*
J
-^t
4? t ^ y / n y
-34
Title-page of a planned edition abroad of The Development of the

Monist View of History. Type-setting was begun in 1894, the title
being Our Differences, Vol. 2, Part 1, Our Legal Literature"
H A -
v ;
^ - ' ' T - ' V . > .> '

..J.rif-wW *{j$
!l
j 'l ,'
y ft1
u;,1~<
* IfjipîVr
I'*Ql*
*
>'(
t V- f |
t|nt It.ife tbv* i- i <
>Sk f-*
i-
'V h i-.** !
1<U H * >
"
to u t, m
p * ' * r
*-
.- }.
,-p.
i
b e 1: #
x-.-'i' :
-.J J ' j .
;f ffcj I '-.vi'
I t e J , tftKO VI*1;
c'.D(Vi'
-ôt i b ^
' ,".
. '>' '. <<</;?.'
JS .1:
/'
>v-1r
' '
'
'
* .t
A l,fl 1^*
' ?-
lr .ii
tJ <
|o vll<!
"
.. 1
.
<*** -V1,
r I*.* I l l
'IH 'U ;
<. v:
ir,i<
*J
, oT .-'svu
i>y
hftnd J* " iV| l l'
'
'.:fi-11
'r f : i
n ' ,L 1
.i
< \
m
"
'
. .lift'll.-. :'.*
MfSttoiv wy u y :>
,C<V<MW. s* i t -iMii'.
if'
r >r.<i
' ii-%
rf ' v
'.>>>
' . - - i i . A i W *
(. . t i ' i l * !?i i.'iO i'
' t!i^
ai
-wiidrt'.^PtaPrc
'j t
UnliOQ. TKftt fc k,* ttiir 't :,!l (n.r
a f1 thii.Kin
tY A uir .
fcfnf- i' r
-'><
^r.i i<
whil.^
,w
fciit .i.1 w
* 1V
-h>,
i !-
* " ^ S e iiOJ* j'^. i>.< n i rr:* r'v iis 1 r * t
al development, sim ply don't see to what degree social life is

complicated. The French writers of the Enlightenm ent were also
inclined to this point of view, when they felt the* necessity of
bringing their views on social life into logical order and of solving
tho contradictions which were getting the upper hand of them.
The most systematic minds among them (we do not refer here to
Housscau, who in general had little in common w ith the Avriters
of the Enlightenment) did not go any farther. Thus, for example,
it is this viewpoint of interaction that is m aintained by Montes
quieu in his famous works: Grandeur et Decadence des Romains and
De I'Esprit des Lois.* And this, of course, is a justifiable point of
view. Interaction undoubtedly exists between a ll sides of social
life. Rut unfortunately this justifiable point of view explains
very little, for the simple reason that it gives no indication as to
lhe origin of the interacting forces. If the constitution itself presup
poses tho manners which it influences, then obviously it is not to
the constitution that those manners owe their first appearance.
The same must be said of the manners too: if they already pre
suppose the constitution which they influence, then it is clear
that it is not they which created it. In order to got rid of this
muddle wo must discover the historical factor which produced both
tho manners of the given people and its constitution, and thereby
created the very possibility of their interaction. If we discover such
a factor we shall reveal tho correct point of view we are seeking,
and then we shall solve w ithout difficulty the contradiction which
confuses us.
As far as the fundam ental contradiction of the French materi
alists is concerned, this means the following. The French materi
alists wero very mistaken when, contradicting their customary view
of history, they said that ideas mean nothing, since environment
means everything. No less mistaken was that customary view of
thoirs on history (cest. I opinion qui gouverne le monde), which
proclaimed opinions to bo tho m ain fundamental reason for the
fxislonco of any given social environment. There is undoubted
interaction between opinions and environment. But scientific in
vestigation cannot stop at recognising this interaction, since inter
action is far from explaining social phenomena to us. In order to
understand the history of m ankind, i.e., in the present case the
*
Holbach in his Politique naturelle takes the standpoint of interaction
wtwoen manners and constitution. But as he has there to deal with practical
questions, this point of view leads him into a vicious circlo: in order to
improve manners one must perfect the constitution, and in order to improve
one must improve manners. Holbach is rescued from this circle by an
"iiaginary bon prince, who was desired by all the writers of the EnlightenP,0nt, and who, appearing like deus ex machina, solved the contradiction,
'tnproving both manners and constitution.
494
G. P LEK HA N O V
history of its opinions, on the one hand, and the history of thos*
social relations through which it passed in its development, on the
other, we must rise above the point of view of interaction, and
discover, if possible, that factor which determines both the develop,
ment of the social environment and the development of opinions
The problem of social science in the nineteenth century was piel
cisely to discover that factor.
The world is governed by opinions. Hut then, opinions do not
remain unchanged. W hat conditions their changes? The spread
ing of enlightenment, replied, as early as the seventeenth centu
ry, La Mothe le Vayer. This is the most abstract and most super
ficial expression of the idea that opinions dominate the world.
The writers of the Enlightenm ent of the eighteenth century held
to it firmly, sometimes supplementing it with melancholy
reflections that the fate of enlightenment, unfortunately, is in
general very unreliable. B ut the realisation that such a view was
inadequate could already be noticed among the most talented of
them. Helvetius remarked that the development of knowledge is
subordinated to certain laws, and that, consequently, there are
some hidden and unknown causes on which it depends. lie made
an attempt of the highest interest, still not assessed at its true
value, to explain the social and intellectual development of man
by his material needs. This attempt ended, and for many reasons
could not but end, in failure. But it remained a testament, as it
were, for those thinkers of the following century who might wish
to continue the work of the French materialists.
Chapter
II
FRENCH HISTORIANS OF THE RESTORATION

"One of the most im portant conclusions which can be drawn
from the study of history is that government is the most effective
cause of the character of peoples; that the virtues or the vices of
nations, their energy or their weakness, their talents, their e nlight
enment or their ignorance, are hardly ever the consequence of
climate or of the qualities of the particular race, but are the work
of the laws; that nature has given a ll to everyone, while govern
ment preserves or destroys, in the men subjected to it, those qual
ities which originally constituted the common heritage of the
human race. In Ita ly there occurred no changes either in climate
or in race (the influx of the barbarians was too insignificant lo alter
the latters quality): Nature was the same for Italians of all
ages; only governments changed and these changes always pre
ceded or accompanied changes in the national character.
In this way Sismondi contested the doctrine which made the
historical fate of peoples depend only on geographical environ
ment.* His objections are not unfounded. In fact, geography is
far from explaining everything in history, just because the latter
is history, i. e., because, in Sism ondis words, governments change
*n spite of the fact that geographical environment remains
unchanged. But this in passing: we are interested here in quite
a different question.
The reader has probably already noticed that, comparing the
unchanging character of geographical environment w ith the
changeability of the historical destinies of peoples, Sismondi
hnks these destinies w ith one m ain factor "government", i. e.,
"th the political institutions of the given country. The character of
people is entirely determined by the character of the government.
; rUe, having stated this proposition categorically, Sismondi
limediately and very essentially modifies it: political changes,
e says, preceded changes of the national character or accompanied
*
Histoire des Ripubllqu.es italiennes du moyen age, Paris, 1.1, Introduction,
PP. v-vi.
496
G. PLEK HA NO V
them. Here the character of the government appears to he ratly?r

determined by tho character of the people. B ut in this case th (1
historical philosophy of Sismondi encounters the contradiction
w ith which we are already fam iliar, and which confused the
French writers of the Enlightenm ent: the manners of a given
people depend on its constitution; the constitution depends on
their mannors. Sismondi was just as little able to solve this con
tradiction as the writers of the Enlightenment: he was forced tn
found his arguments now upon one, now upon the other branch
of this antinomy. But be that as it may, having once decided on
one of them namely that which proclaims that the character of
a people depends on its government he attributed to the con
ception of government an exaggeratedly wide meaning: in his
eyes it embraced absolutely a ll the qualities of the given social
environment, all the peculiarities of the social relations concerned.
It would be more exact to say that in his view absolutely all the
qualities of the social environment concerned were the work of
government , tho result of the constitution. This is the point of
view of the eighteenth century. When the French materialists
wanted briefly and strongly to express their conviction of the om
nipotent influence of environment on man, they used to say:
eest la legislation qui fait tout (everything depends on legisla
tion). But when they spoke of legislation, they had in m ind almost
exclusively political legislation, the system of government. Among
the works of the famous Jean-Baptiste Vico there is a little article
entitled PIssay of a System of jurisprudence, in W hich the Civil
Law of the Romans Is Explained by Their Political Revolu
tions.* Although this Essay was written at the very beginning of
the eighteenth century, nevertheless the viow it expresses on
the relationship between civil law and the system of govern
ment prevailed up to the French Restoration. The writers of the
Enlightenm ent reduced everything to politics.
But the political activity of tho legislator is in any event
a conscious activity, although naturally not always expedient.
*
We translate the title of the article from the French, and hasten to
remark in so doing that the article itself is known to us only from certain
French extracts. We were unable to discover the original Italian t e x t , a*
it was printed, so far as we know, only in one edition of Vicos works (1818);
it is already missing from the Milan edition in six volumes of 1835. H o w e v e r
what is important in the present case is not how Vico performed the task
he had set himself, but what task it was.
We shall incidentally anticipate here one reproach which shrewd critics
will probably hasten to level at us: You indiscriminately make use of tn
term writers of the Enlightenment and materialists , yet far from a ll y 1*
Enlighteners' were materialists; many of them, for example Voltairevigorously combated the materialists. This is so; but on the other hano
Hegel demonstrated long ago that the writers of the Enlightenment w)
rose up against materialism were themselves only inconsistent materialist-
the
The conscious activity of man depends on his opinions". In this

way the French writers of the Enlightenm ent w ithout noticing it
the nisei ves returned to the idea of the omnipotence of opinions, even
in those cases when they desired to emphasise the idea of the
omnipotence of environment.
Sismondi was still adopting the view-point of the eighteenth
c e n tu r y .*
Younger French historians were already holding d if
ferent views.
The course and outcome of the French Revolution, w ith its
surprises that nonplussed the most enlightened thinkers, proved
a refutation, graphic to the highest degree, of the idea that opin
ions were omnipotent. Then many became quite disillusioned in the
power of reason, while others who did not give way to d isillu
sionment began all the more to incline to acceptance of the idea of
the omnipotence of environment, and to studying the course of its
development. But at the time of the Restoration environment too
began to be examined from a new point of view. Great historic
events had made such a mock, both of legislators and of politi
cal constitutions, that now it already seemed strange to make
dependent on the latter, as a basic factor, all the qualities of a par
ticular social environment. Now political constitutions began to
be considered as something derivative, as a consequence and not
as a cause.
The m ajority of writers, scholars, historians or publicists,
says Guizot in his Essais sur Vhistoire de France,** have attem pt
ed to explain the condition of society, the degree or the nature
of its civilisation, by its political institutions. It would be
wiser to begin with the study of society itself, in order to learn
and understand its political institutions. Before becoming a cause,
institutions are a consequence; society creates them before it
begins to changeunder their influence; and instead of judging the
condition of a people from the system or the forms of its govern
ment, we must first of all investigate the condition of the people,
in order to judge what should be and what could be its govern
ment Society, its composition, the mode of life of in divid u a l
persons in keeping w ith their social position, the relations of various
classes of persons, in a word, the civil condition of men (letat des
personnes)such, without doubt, is the first question which
attracts the attention of the historian who desires to know how
peoples lived, and of the publicist who desires to know how they
were governed.***
This view is directly opposed to the view of Vico. The latter
explained the history of civil law by political revolutions. Guizot
* He began working at the history of the Italian Republics in 1796.
** First edition appeared in 1821.
** Essais (lOrne Edition), Paris, 1860, pp. 73-74.
32 - 0 1 3 2 9
498
G. P LEK H A N O V
explains the political order by civil conditions, i.e., by civil ]aw

B ut the French historian goes even further in his analysis of
social composition". He states that, among all the peoples who
appeared on the historical arena after the fall of tho Western
Rom an Empire, the civil condition of men was closely connected
w ith agrarian relations (etat des terres), and therefore the study
of their agrarian relations must precede the study of their civil
condition. I n order to understand political institutions, we must
study the various strata existing in society and their m utual relation
ships. I n order to understand these various social strata, we must know
the nature and the relations of landed property."* It is from this
point of view that Guizot studies the history of France under the
first two dynasties. He presents it as the history of the struggle of
various social strata at the time. In his history of the English
R evolution he makes a new step forward, representing this event as
the struggle of the bourgeoisie against the aristocracy, and tacitly
recognising in this way that to explain the political life of a partic
ular country it is necessary to study not only its agrarian rela
tions, but also all its property relations in general.**
Such a view of the political history of Europe was far from
being the exclusive property of Guizot at that time. I t was shared
by m any other historians, among whom we shall refer to Augustin
Thierry and Mignet.
In his Vues des revolutions d'Angleterre Thierry represents the
history of the English revolutions as the struggle of the bourgeoi
sie against the aristocracy. Everyone whose ancestors were num
bered among the conquerors of England, he writes of the first
* Ibid ., pp. 75-76.

** The struggle of religious and political parties in England in the seven
teenth century was a screen for the social question, the struggle of various
classes for power and influence. True, in England these classes were not so
sharply delimited and not so hostile to one another as in other countries.
The people had not forgotten that powerful barons had fought not only for
t.lieir own but for the peoples liberty. The country gentlemen and the town
bourgeois for three centuries sat together in parliament in the name of the
English Commons. But during the last century great changes had taken place
in the relative strength of the various classes of society, which had not been
accompanied by corresponding changes in the political system.... The bour
geoisie, country gentry, farmers and small landowners, very numerous at
that time, had not an influence on the course of public affairs p r o p o r t i n a t e
to their importance in the country. They had grown, but not been e le v a t e d .
Hence in this stratum, as in other strata lying below it, there appeared
a proud and mighty spirit of ambition, ready to seize upon the first pretext
it mot to burst forth. Discours sur I'histoire de la revolution d'A ugleterre,
Berlin, 1850, pp. 9-10. Compare the same authors entire six volumes
relating to the history of the first English Revolution, and the sketches of
the life of various public figures of that time. Guizot there rarely a b a n d o n s
the view-point of the struggle of classes.
the
DEVELOPMENT OK THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 499
Revolution, left his castle and journeyed to the royal camp, where
jje took up a position appropriate to his rank. The inhabitants of
the towns and ports flocked to the opposite camp. Then it m ight
have been said that the armies were gathering, one in the name
of idleness and authority, the other in the name of labour and
liberty. A ll idlers, whatever their origin, all those who sought in
life only enjoyment, secured w ithout lahour, rallied under the
roval banner, defending interests sim ilar to their own interests;
and on the contrary, those of the descendants of the former con
querors who were then engaged in industry joined the Party of
the Commons.*
The religious movement of the time was, in Thierrys opinion,
only the reflection of positive lay interests. On both sides the war
was waged for positive interests. Everything else was external or
a pretext. The men who defended the cause of the subjects were
for the most part Presbyterians, i.e., they desired no subjection
even in religion. Those who adhered to the opposite party belonged
to the Anglican or the Catholic faith; this was because, even in
the religious sphere, they strove for authority and for the im
position of taxes on men. Thierry quotes in this connection the
following words of Fox in his History of the Reign of James I I :
"The Whigs considered all religious opinions w ith a view to poli
tics.... Even in their hatred to popery, [they] did not so much regard
the superstition, or imputed idolatry of that unpopular sect, as its
tendency to establish arbitrary power in the state. **
In M ignets opinion, the movement of society is determined
by the dom inating interests. A m id various obstacles, this move
ment strives towards its end, halts once that end has been reached,
and yields place to another movement which at first is impercepti
ble, and becomes apparent only when it becomes predominant.
Such was the course of development of feudalism. Feudalism
existed in the needs of man while it yet did not exist in fact
the first epoch; in the second epoch it existed in fact, gradually
ceasing to correspond to mens needs, wherefore there came to an
end, ultim ately, its existence in fact. Not a single revolution has
yet taken place in any other way.***
In his history of the French R evolution, Mignet regards events
precisely from this point of view of the needs of various social
classes. The struggle of these classes is, in his opinion, the m ain
spring of political evens. Nat urally, such a view could not, bo to
the taste of eclectics, even in those good old times when their
*
D ix arts d'etudes historiques, the sixth volume of Thierrys Complete
Works (10th fid.), p. 66.
** [London, 1808, p. 2751.
*** De la fSodalitides institutions de St.-Louis et de I'influence de la IfglslaUon de ce prince, Paris, 1822, pp. 76-77.
32*
500
G. PLEK HA NO V
brains worked much more than they do nowadays. The eclectics

reproached the partisans of tho new historical theories with
fatalism, with prejudice in favour of a system (esprit de systeme).
As always happens in such cases, the eclectics did not notice at
all the really weak sides of the new theories, but in return with tho
greater energy attacked their unquestionably strong sides. How
ever, this is as old as the world itself, and is therefore of little
interest. Much more interesting is the circumstance that these
new views were defended by the Saint-Simonist Bazard, one of tho
most b rillia n t representatives of the socialism of that day.
Bazard did not consider M ignets book on the French Revolu
tion to be flawless. Its defect was, in his eyes, that among other
things it represented the event it described as a separate fact,
standing without any connection w ith that long chain of efforts
which, having overthrown the old social order, was to facilitate
the establishment of the new regime. But the book also has
unquestionable merits. The author has set himself the task of
characterising those parties which, one after the other, direct the
revolution, of revealing the connection of these parties with
various social classes, of displaying what particular chain of events
places them one after the other at the head of the movement, and
how finally they disappear. That same "spirit of system and
fatalism, which the eclectics put forward as a reproach against
the historians of the new tendency, advantageously distinguishes,
in Bazard's opinion, the work of G uizot and Mignet from the works
of literary historians (i.e., historians concerned only for beauty
of style) who, in spite of their number, have not moved histor
ical science forward one step since the eighteenth century.*
If Augustin Thierry, Guizot or Mignet had been asked, do the
manners of a people create its constitution, or, on the contrary,
does its constitution create its manners, each of them would have
replied that, however great and however unquestionable is tho
interaction of the manners of a people and its constitution, in the
last analysis, both owe their existence to a third factor, lying
deeperthe civil condition of men, their property relationsF.
In this way the contradiction which confused the philos
ophers of the eighteenth century would have been solved, anil
every im p artial person would recognise that Bazard was right
in saying that science had made a step forward, in the person of
the representatives of the new views on history.
Rut we know already that the contradiction mentioned is
only a particular case of the fundamental contradiction of the
views on society held in the eighteenth century: ( 1 ) man w ith all
his thoughts and feelings is the product of environment; (2 ) environ* Considerations sur l histoire" in Le Producteur, Part IV ,
the
jjjent is the creation of man, the product of his opinions. Can it

jje said that the new views on history had resolved this fundamen
tal contradiction of French materialism? Let us examine how the
French historians of the Restoration explained the origin of that
c iv il condition, those property relations, the close study of which
alone could, in their opinion, provide the key to the under
s ta n d in g of historical events.
The property relations of men belong to the sphere of their
legal relations; property is first of all a legal institution. To say
that the key to understanding historical phenomena must be
sou g ht in the property relations of men means saying that this
key lies in institutions of law. But whence do these institutions
come? Guizot says quite rightly that political constitutions were
a consequence before they became a cause; that society first
created them and then began to change under their influence. But
cannot the same be said of property relations? Were not they in
their turn a consequence before they became a cause? D id not
society have first to create them before it could experience their
decisive influence on itself?
To these quite reasonable questions Guizot gives highly unsatis
factory replies.
The civil condition of the peoples who appeared on the histori
cal arena after the fall of the Western Roman Empire was in the
closest causal connection w ith landownership*: the relation of
man to the land determined his social position. Throughout the
epoch of feudalism, all institutions of society were determined in
the last analysis by agrarian relations. As for those relations
they, in the words of the same Guizot, at first, during the first
period after the invasion of the barbarians , were determined by
the social position of the landowner: the land he occupied acquired
this or that character, according to the degree of strength of
the landowner. ** But what then determined the social position
of the landowner? W h at determined at first, during the first
period after the invasion of the barbarians the greater or lesser
degree of liberty, the greater or lesser degree of power of the land
owner? Was it previous political relations among the barbarian
conquerors? But Guizot has already told us that political relations
*
That is, with modern peoples only? This restriction is all the more
strange that already Greek and Roman writers had seen the close connection
between the civil and political life of their countries, and agrarian relations.
However, this strange lim itation did not prevent Guizot making the fall
of the Roman Empire depend upon its state economy. See his first Essay:
Uu regime m unicipal dans Vempire romain au V-me siecle de Vere chretienne.
** That is, landownership bore this or that legal character, or in other
rds its possession involved a greater or lesser degree of dependence, accordng to the strength and liberty of the landowner (loc. cit., p. 75).
502
G. P LEK HA N O V
are a consequence and not a cause. In order to understand the p(>Jii_

ical life of tho barbarians in tho epoch preceding the fall of t|m
Roman Empire we should have, according to tho advice of our
author, to study their civil condition, their social order, the
relations of various classes in their m idst, and so forth; and such
a study would once again bring us to the question of what deter
mines the property relations of men, what creates the forms of
property existing in a given society. And it is obvious that wi*
should gain nothing if, in order to explain the position of various
classes in society, we began referring to the relative degrees of their
freedom and power. This would be not a reply, but a repetition
of the question in a new form, w ith some details.
The question of the origin of property relations is hardly likt-ly
even to have arisen in G uizots mind in the shape of a scientific
problem, strictly and accurately formulated. We have seen
that it was quite impossible for him not to have taken account
of the question, but the very confusion of the replies which ho
gave to it bears witness to the unclarity w ith which he conceived
it. In the last analysis the development of forms of property was
explained by Guizot by exceptionally vague reference to human
nature. It is not surprising that this historian, whom the eclectics
accused of excessively systematic views, himself turned out to ho
no mean eclectic, for example in his works on the history of
civilisation.
Augustin Thierry, who examined the struggle of religious sects
and political parties from the view-point of the positive interests
of various social classes and passionately sympathised w ith the
struggle of the third estate against the aristocracy, explained the
origin of those classes and ranks in conquest. Tout cela date d une
conquete; il y a une conquete la-dessous (all this dates from
a conquest; theres a conquest at the bottom of it), he says of class
and estate relations among the modern peoples, which are exclu
sively the subject of his writing. He incessantly developed this
idea in various ways, both in his articles and in his later learned
works. But apart from the fact that conquest an international
political act returned Thierry to the point of view of the eigh
teenth century, which explained all social life by the activity of the
legislator, i.e., of political authority, every fact of conquest in
evitably arouses the question: why were its social c o n s e q u e n c e s
these, and not those? Before the invasion of the German b a r b a r i
ans Gaul had already lived through a Rom an conquest. The social
consequences of that conquest were very different from those which
were, produced by the German conquest. The social c o n s e q u e n c e s
of the conquest of China by the Mongols very little r e s e m b l e d
those of the conquest of England by the Normans. Whence <1
such differences come? To say that they are determined by differ'
the
ence? >n ^ 10 soc*al structure of the various peoples which come

into conflict at different times means to say nothing, because what
determines that social structure remains unknown. To refer in
this question to some previous conquests means moving in a vi
cious circle. However many the conquests you enumerate, you w ill
nevertheless arrive in the long run at the inevitable conclusion
that in the social life of peoples, there is some X , some unknown
factor, which is not only not determined by conquests, but which
on the contrary itself conditions the consequences of conquests and
even frequently, perhaps always, the conquests themselves, and
is the fundamental reason for international conflicts. Thierry in
his History of the Conquest of England by the Normans himself points
out, on the basis of old monuments, the motives which guided
the Anglo-Saxons in their desperate struggle for their indepen
dence. We must fight, said one of the earls, whatever may be the
danger to us; for what wo have to consider is not whether we shall
accept and receive a new lord.... The case is quite otherwise. The
Duke of Normandy has given our lands to his barons, to his
knights and to all his men, tho greater part of whom have
already done homage to him for them: they w ill all look for
their gift if their duke become our king; and he himself w ill be
bound to deliver up to them our lands, our wives and our daugh
ters: all this is promised to them beforehand. They come, not
only to ruin us, but to ruin our descendants also, and to take from
us the country of our ancestors, etc. On his part, W illia m the
Conqueror said to his companions: Fight well and put all to death;
for if we conquer we shall all be rich. W hat I gain, you w ill gain;
if I conquer, you w ill conquer; if I take this land, you shall have
it.* Here it is abundantly clear that the conquest was not an end
in itself, and that beneath it lay certain positive , i.e., econom
ic interests. The question is, what gave those interests the form
which they then had? W hy was it that both natives and conquer
ors were inclined precisely to the feudal system of landownershi p,
and not to any other? Conquests explain nothing in this
case.
In Thierrys Histoire du tiers etat, and in all his sketches of the
internal history of France and England, we have already a fairly
full picture of the historical advance of the bourgeoisie. It is
sufficient to study even this picture to see how unsatisfactory is
the view w hich makes dependent on conquest the origin and deve
lopment of a given social system: that development progressed
quite at variance with the interests and wishes of the feudal
aristocracy, i.e., the conquerors and their descendants.
* Histoire de la conquete, etc., Paris, t. I, pp. 296 et 300.390
504
G. PLEK H A N O V
It can be said w ithout any exaggeration that in his historical

researches Thierry himself did much to refute his own views
on the historical role of conquests.*
In Mignet we find the same confusion. lie speaks of the in Hu,
ence of landownership on political forms. B ut what the forms of
landownership depend on, why they develop in this or that direc
tion, this Mignet does not know. In tho last analysis he, too,
makes forms of landownership depend on conquest**
Ho senses that it is not abstract conceptions such as conquer
ors and conquered", but people possessing liv in g flesh, having
definite rights and socil relations that we are dealing w ith in the
history of international conflicts; but here, too, his analysis does
not go very far. When two peoples liv in g on the same soil min
gle, he says, they lose their weak sides and communicate their
strong sides to each other.***
This is not profound, nor is it quite clear.
Faced w ith the question of the origin of property relations,
each of the French historians of the tim e of tho Restoration whom
we have mentioned would probably have attempted, like Guizot,
to escape from the difficulty w ith the help of more or less in
genious references to human nature".
The view of hum an nature as the highest authority which
decides all knotty cases in the sphere of law, m orality, politics
and economics, was inherited in its entirety by the writers of the
nineteenth century from the writers of the Enlightenm ent of the
previous century.
If man, when he appears in tho world, does not bring w ith him
a prepared store of innate practical ideas; if virtue is respected,
not because it is innate in people, but because it is useful, as
Locke asserted; if the principle of social u tility is the highest law,
as Helvetius said; if man'is the measure of things wherever there is
a question of m utual hum an relations then it is quite natural to
draw the conclusion that the nature of man is the view-point from
which we should assess given relations as being useful or harm
ful, rational or irrational. It was from this standpoint that the
*
It is interesting that the Saint-Simonists already saw this weak side
of the historical views of Thierry. Thus, Bazard, in the article quoted earlier,
remarks that conquest in reality exercised much less influence on the devel
opment of European society than Thierry thought. Everyone u n d e r s t a n d i n g
tne laws of development of hum anity sees that the role of conquest is quit0
subordinate. But in this case Thierry is closer to the views of his former
teacher Saint-Simon than is Bazard: Saint-Simon examines the history
of Western Europe from the fifteenth century from the view-point
development of economic relations, but explains the social order of the Middle
Ages merely as the product of conquest.
** De la fiodalite, p. 50.
*** Ibid., p. 212.
writers of the Enlightenm ent of the eighteenth century discussed

hoth the social order then existing and the reforms which they
thought desirable. H um an nature was for them the most im por
tant argument in their discussions w ith their opponents. How great
in their eyes was the im portanco of this argument is shown excellent
ly, for example, by the following observation of Condorcet: The
ideas of justice and law take shape invariably in an identical
form among all beings gifted w ith the capacity of sensation and of
acquiring ideas. Therefore they w ill he identical. True, it
happens that people distort them (les alterent). B ut every man
who thinks correctly w ill just as inevitably arrive at certain
ideas in m orality as in'mathernatics. These ideas are the necessary
outcome of the irrefutable truth that men are perceptive arid
rational beings . 361 In reality the views on society of the French
writers of the Enlightenm ent were not deduced, of course, from this
more than meagre truth, but were suggested to them by their
environment. The man whom they had in view was distin
guished not only by his capacity to perceive and think: his nature
demanded a definite bourgeois system of society (the works of
Holbach included just those demands which later were put into
effect by the Constituent Assembly). His nature prescribed free
trade, non-interference of the state in tho property relations of
citizens (laissez faire, laissez passer!),* etc., etc. The writers of the
Enlightenment looked on hum an nature through the prism of
particular social needs and relations. B ut they did not suspect
that history had put some prism before their eyes. They imagined
that through their lips hum an nature itself was speaking,
understood and assessed at its true value at last, by the enlightoned representatives of hum anity.
Not all the writers of the eighteenlh century had an identical
conception of human nature. Sometimes they differed very strong
ly among themselves on this subject. B ut all of them were equally
convinced that a correct view of that nature alone could provide
the key to the explanation of social phenomena.
We said earlier that many French writers of the Enlightenment
had already noticed a certain conformity to law in the develop
ment of human reason. They were led to the idea of this conformity
*o law first and foremost by the history of literature: what people,
, * True, not always. Sometimes, in the name of the same nature, the
Philosophers advised the legislator to smoothjout the inequalities of pro
perly. This was one of the numerous contradictions of the French writers
!,r tle Enlightenment. But we are not concerned with this here. W hat is
niportant for us is the fact that the abstract nature of man was in every
8ven case an argument in favour of the quite concrete aspirations of a definite
lratum of society, and moreover, of bourgeois society.
G. P LEK HA N O V
they ask, was not first a poet and only then a thinker?* But how
is such succossionto be explained? By the needs of society, which
determine the development of language itself, replied the phi
losophers. The art of speech, like all other arts, is the fruit of
social needs and interests, asserted the Abbe Arnaud, in the
address just mentioned in a footnote. 362 Social needs change, and
therefore there changes also the course of development of the arts".
But what determines social needs? Social needs, the needs of men
who compose society, are determined by the nature of man. Con
sequently it is in that nature that we must seek the explanation
of this, and not that, course of intellectual development.
In order to play the part of the highest criterion, human nature
obviously had to be considered as fixed once for all, as invariable.
Tho writers of the Enlightenm ent did in fact regard it as such as
the reader could see from the words of Condorcet quoted above.
But if hum an nature is invariable, how then can it servo to explain
the course of the intellectual or social development of mankind?
W hat is the process of any development? A series of changes. Can
those changes be explained w ith the help of something that is
invariable, that is fixed once for all? Is this the reason why a vari
able magnitude changes, that a constant magnitude remains
unchanged? The writers of the Enlightenm ent realised that this
could not be so, and in order to get out of their difficulty they
pointed out that the constant magnitude itself proves to be vari
able, w ithin certain lim its. Man goes through different ages:
childhood, youth, m aturity and so forth. A t these various ages his
needs are not identical: In his childhood man has only his feelings,
his im agination and memory: he seeks only to be amused and
requires only songs and stories. The age of passions succeeds: the
soul requires to be moved and agitated. Then the intelligence
extends and reason grows stronger: both these faculties in their
turn require exercise, and their activity extends to everything
that is capable of arousing curiosity.
Thus develops the in d iv id u a l man: these changes are condi
tioned by his nature; and just because they are in his nature, they
are to be noticed in tho spiritual development of a ll mankind.
It is by these changes that is to be explained the circumstance
th a t peoples begin w ith epics and end w ith philosophy.**
It is easy to see that explanations of this kind, which did not
explain anything at all, only imbued the description of the course
of intellectual development of man w ith a certain picturesqueness
*
Grimm, Corrcspondance LittSraire for August, 1774. In putting this
[uestion, Grimm only repeats the idea of the Abb6 Arnaud, which the latter
ieveloped in a discourse pronounced by him at the French Academy.
** Suard, loc. cit., p. 383.
(simile always sets off more v iv id ly the quality of the object

being described). I t is easy to see likewise that, in giving expla
nations of this kind, the thinkers of the eighteenth century were
moving round the above-mentioned vicious circle: environment
creates m an, man creates environment. For in effect, on the one
hand, it appeared that the intellectual development of m ankind,
i.e., in other words the development of hum an nature, was due to
social needs, and on the other it turned out that the development
of social needs is to be explained by the development of human
nature.
Thus we see that the French historians of the Restoration also
failed to elim inate this contradiction: it only took a new form
with them.
Chapt er I I I
T H E UTOPIAN SOCIALISTS
If human nature is invariable, and if, knowing its main quali
ties, wo can deduce from them m athem atically accurate prin
ciples in the sphere of m orality and social science, it w ill not be
difficult to invent a social order which would fu lly correspond to
the requirements of hum an nature, and just for that very reason,
would be an ideal social order. The materialists of the eighteenth
century were already very w illing to engage in research on tho
subject of a perfect system of laws (legislation parfaite). These
researches represent the utopian element in the literature of the
E nlightenm ent.*
The U topian Socialists of the first half of the nineteenth centu
ry devoted themselves to such researches w ith all their heart.
The U topian Socialists of this age fully shared the anthropolog
ical views of the French materialists. Just like the materialists,
they considered man to be the product of social environment
around h im ,* * and just like the materialists they fell into a vi
cious circle, explaining the variable qualities of the environment
of man by the unchanging qualities of human nature.
*
Helvetius, in his book, De Vlfomme, has a detailed scheme of such
perfect system of laws. It would bp extremely interesting and instructive
to compare this utopia with the utopias of the first half of the nineteenth
century. But unfortunately both the historians of socialism and the histo
rians of philosophy have not up to now had the slightest idea of any such
comparison. As for the historians of philosophy in particular, they, it
must be said in passing, treat Helvetius in the most impermissible way.
Even the calm and moderate Lange finds no other description for him than
the superficial Helvetius". The absolute idealist Hegel was most just of all
in his attitude to the absolute materialist Helvetius.
** Yes, man is only what omnipotent society or omnipotent education
make of him , taking this word in its widest sense, i.e., as meaning not only
school training or book education, but the education given us by men ana
things, events and circumstances, the education which begins to influenofl
us from the cradle and does not leave us again for a moment. Cabet, Voyag*
en Icarie, 1848 ed., p. 402.
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 509
A.11 the numerous Utopias of the first half of the present century
nothing else than attempts to invent a perfect legisla
tion, taking human nature as the supreme criterion. Thus, Fourier
takes as his point of departure tho analysis of hum an passions',
thus- Robert Owen in his Outline of the R ational System of Society
s t a r t s from the first principles of human nature, and asserts that
" r a t i o n a l government must first of a l l ascertain what hum an na
ture is; thus, the Saint-Simonists declare that their philosophy
is foumled on a new conception of human nature (sur une nouvelle
c o n c e p t i o n de la nature hum aine)*; thus, the Fourierists say that
the social organisation invented by their teacher represents a num
ber o f irrefutable deductions from the im m utable laws of hum an
nature.**
Naturally, the view of hum an nature as the supreme criterion
did not prevent the various socialist schools from differing very
considerably in defining the qualities of that nature. Thus, in the
opinion of the Saint-Simonists, the plans of Owen contradict to
such an extent the inclinations of hum an nature that the sort
of popularity which they, apparently, enjoy at the present time
(this was written in 1825) seems at first glance to be inexplicable.* * * In Fourier's polemical pamphlet, Piegeset charlatanisms
des deux sectes Saint-Simon et Owen, qui promettent Vassociation et
le progres, we can find a number of harsh statements that the
Saint-Simonists teaching also contradicts all the inclinations of
human nature. Now, as at the time of Condorcet, it appeared that
to agree in the definition of human nature was much more difficult than to define a geometrical figure.
To the extent that the Utopian Socialists of the nineteenth cen
tury adhered to the view-point of human nature, to that extent
they only repeated the mistakes of the thinkers of the eighteenth
wntury an error which was common, however, to all social
re p re se n t
!
I
* See Le Producteur, Vol. I, Paris, 1825. Introduction.

** Mon but P9t de donner une Exposition EUmentalre, claire et facilement intelligible, de l organisation sociale, <)6duit.e par Fourier des lois de la
nature humaine. (V. Considerant, Destlnie Sociale, t. I, 3-me edition, Decla
ration.) II serait temps enfin de saccorder sur ce point: est-il a propos,
jjv a n t do faire des lois, de senquerir de la veritable nature de I'homme, itfin
" haritioniser In loi, qui est par elle-meme modifiable, nvec la nature, qui
Immuablo et souveraine? Notions (limentaires de la science sociale de
Fourier, par Vauteur de la Defense du Fourierisme (Henri Gorsse, Paris, 1844,
P. 35) |My aim is to give an Elementary Exposition, clear and easy to under
hand. of the social organisation deduced by Fourier from the laws of human
Jalure," (V. Considerant, Social Destiny, Vol. I, 3rd ed., Declaration.)
*t is high time we reached agreement on the following point: would not it be
fetter, before making laws, to inquire into the real nature of man in order
J, prjng the law, which is in itself modifiable, into harmony with nature,
which is im mutable and supreme?!
** Le Producteur, Vol. I, p. 139.
510
G. PLEK HA NO V
science contemporary w ith them .* But wo can see in them an

energetic effort to break out of the narrow confines of an abstract
conception, and to lake their stand upon solid ground. SaintS im ons works are especially distinguished for this.
W hile the writers of the French Enlightenm ent very frequently
regarded the history of hum anity as a series of more or less happy,
hut chance occurrences,** Saint-Simon seeks in history prim arily
conformity to law. The science of human society can and must
become just as exact as natural science. Wo must study the facts
of the past life of mankind in order to discover in them the laws
of its progress. O nly he is capable of foreseeing the future who has
understood the past. Expressing the task of social science in this
way, Saint-Simon in particular turned to the study of the history
of Western Europe since the fall of the Roman Empire. The novelty
and scope of his views can be seen from the fact that his pupil
Thierry could practically effect a revolution in the study of French
history. Saint-Simon was of the opinion that G uizot also borrowed
his views from himself. Leaving this question of theoretical pro
perty undecided, we shall note that Saint-Simon was able to trace
the mainsprings of the internal development of European societies
further than his contemporary specialists in history. Thus, if both
Thierry and Mignet, and likewise Guizot, pointed to property
relations as the foundation of any social order, Saint-Simon, who
*
We have already demonstrated this in relation to the historians of the
Restoration. It would be very easy to demonstrate it also in relation to lha
economists. In defending the bourgeois social order against the reactionaries
and the Socialists, the economists defended it precisely as the order most
appropriate to human nature. The efforts to discover an abstract law of
populationwhether they came from the Socialists or the bourgeois camp
were closely bound up with the view of human" nature as the basic con
ception of social science. In order to be convinced of this, it is sufficient
to compare the relevant teaching of Malthus, on the one hand, and the
teaching of Godwin or of the author of the Comments on M ill,3*3 on the other.
Both Malthus and his opponents equally seek a single, so to speak absolute,
law of population. Our contemporary political economy sees it otherwise:
it knows that each phase of social development has Us own, particular, la
of population. But of this later.
** In this respect the reproach addressed by Helvetius to Montesquieu
is extremely characteristic: In his book on the reasons for the grandeur #n<*
decadence of Rome, Montesquieu has given insufficient attention to tw
importance of happy accidents in the history of thal state. He has Fallen
into the mistake too characteristic of thiukers who wish to explain everythin?*
and into the mistake of secluded scholars who, forgetting the nature of mon,
attribute to the peoples representatives invariable political views nn'
uniform principles. Yet often one man directs at his discretion those
tant assemblies which are called senates' Pensees et Reflexions, C X L, in t'
third volume of his Complete Works, Paris, M D C C C X V III. Does not tu1remind you, reader, of the theory of heroes and crowd364 now fashionable
in Russia? W ait a bit: what is set forth further w ill show more than once bo
little there is of orieinnlity in Russian sociology".
most vividly and for tho first time threw light oil the history of
lliese relations in modern Europe, went further and asked himself:
why is it that precisely these, and uo other relations, play such
an important part? The answer is to be sought, in his opinion, in
the requirements of industrial development. Up to the fifteenth
century lay authority was in the hands of the nobility, and this
was useful because the nobles were then the most capable indus
trialists.
They directed agricultural works, and agricultural
works were then the only kind of im portant industrial occupa
tion.* To the question of why the needs of industry have such
a decisive importance in the history of m ankind, Saint-Simon re
plied that it was because the object of social organisation is pro
duction (le but de l organisation sociale s'est la production). He
attributed great significance to production, identifying the useful
with the productive (1 u tile cest la production), lie categori
cally declared that la politique ... c'est lasciencede la production".
It would seem that the logical development of these views
should liavo brought Saint-Simon to the conclusion that the laws
of production are those very laws by which in the last analysis
social development is determined, and the study of which must be
the task of the thinker striving to foresee the future. A t times he,
as it were, approaches this idea, but that only at times.
For production the implements of labour are necessary. These
implements are not provided by nature ready-made, they are
invented by man. The invention or even the simple use of a partic
ular implement presupposes in the producer a certain degree of
intellectual development. The development of industry is,
therefore, the unquestionable result of the intellectual development
of mankind. It seems as though opinion, enlightenment (luniieres) here also reign unchallenged over the world. And the more
apparent the im portant role of industry becomes, the more is
confirmed, seemingly, this view of the philosophers of the eigh
teenth century. Saint-Simon holds it even more consistently than
the French writers of the Enlightenm ent, as he considers the ques
tion of the origin of ideas in sensations to be settled, and has less
grounds for m editation on the influence of environment on man.
The development of knowledge is for him the fundamental factor
of historical advance.** He tries to discover the laws of that devel
* Opinions litteraires, philosophiques et industrielles, Pnris, 1S25, pp. 144 Compare also Catechisme politique des industrials.
** Saint-Simon brings the idealistic view of history to its last and extreme
conclusion. For him not only are ideas (principles) the ultimate foundation
rrelations, but among them scientific ideasthe "scientific system
,i
worldplay the principal part: from these follow religious ideas
''lilch, in their turn, condition the moral conceptions of man. This is intellecwhich prevailed at the same time also among tho German philophers, but with them took quite a different form.
512
opment; thus ho establishes the law of three stages theological,

metaphysical and positive which later on Auguste Comto very suc
cessfully gave out to he his own discovery.* But these laws,
too, Saint-Simon explains in the long run by the qualities of human
nature. Society consists of individuals, he says. Therefore the
development of social reason can be only the reproduction of the
development of the individual reason on a larger scale.'' Starling
from this fundamental principle, he considers his laws of .social
development finally ascertained and proved whenever he succeeds
in discovering a successful analogy in the development of the indi
vidual confirming them. Me holds, for example, that the role of
authority in social life w ill in time be reduced to zero.** Tho
gradual but incessant d im inution of this role is one of the laws of
development of hum anity. How then does he prove this law? The
m ain argument in its favour is reference to tho individual develop
ment of man. In the elementary school the child is obliged uncon
d itio n a lly to obey his elders; in the secondary and higher school,
the element of obedience gradually falls into the background, in
order finally to yield its place to independent action in maturity.
No matter how anyone may regard the history of authority,
everyone w ill nowadays agree that here, as everywhere, compari
son is riot proof. The embryological development of any partic
ular individual (ontogenesis) presents many analogies w ith the
history of the species to which this individual belongs: ontogenesis
supplies m a n y im portant indications about phylogenesis. But what
should we now say of a biologist who would attempt to assert
that the ultim ate explanation of phylogenesis must be sought in
*
Littr6 strongly contested the statement of Hubbard when the lntter
pointed out this ... borrowing. He attributed to Saint-Simon only the law
of two stages : theological and scientific. Flint, in quoting this opinion of
I,ittr6, remarks: He is correct when he says that the law of three stages i
not enunciated in any of Saint-Simons writings (The Philosophy of History
in France and Germany, Edinburgh and London, M D CCCLXX IV , p. 158). We
shall contrast to this observation the following extract from Saint-Simon:
What astronomer, physicist, chemist and physiologist does not know that in
every branch of knowledge the human reason, before proceeding from purely
theological to positive ideas, for a long time has used metaphysics? Docs
there not arise in everyone who has studied the history of sciences the con
viction that this intermediate stage has been useful, and even absolutely
indispensable to carry out the transition? (Du systeme industriel, PariSt
M DCCCXXI, Preface, pp. vi-vii.) The law of three stages was of such impor
tance in Saint-Simons eyes that he was ready to explain by this means
purely political events, such as the predominance of the "legists and nieW'
physicians during the French Revolution. It would have been easy for Flint
to "discover this by carefully reading the works of Saint-Simon. But
unfortunately it is much easier to write a learned history of human thought than
to study the actual course of its development.
** This idea was later borrowed from him and distorted by Proudhon,
who built on it his theory of anarchy.
THE DEVELOPMENT OK T H E MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY 513

ontogenesis? Modern biology acts in the exactly opposite way: it
exp|ains the embryological history of the individual by the

history of the species.
The appeal to human nature gave a very peculiar appearance to
all the laws" of social development formulated both by SaintSimon himself and by his followers.
It led them into the vicious circle. The history of mankind is
explained by its nature. B u t what is the key lo the understanding
of the nature of man? History. Obviously, if we move in this cir
cle, we cannot understand either the nature of man or his history.
VVe can make only some in d iv id u a l, more or less profound, obser
vations concerning this or that sphere of social phenomena.
Saint-Simon made some very subtle observations, sometimes truly
instinct with genius: but his main objectthat of discovering
a firm scientific foundation for politics remained unattained.
The supreme law of progress of human reason, says SaintSimon, subordinates all to itself, rules over everything: men for
it are only tools. And although this force |i.e., this law] arises
from ourselves (derive de nous), we can just as little set ourselves
free from its influence or subordinate it to ourselves as we could
at our whim change the working of the force which obliges the
earth to revolve around the sun__ A ll we can do is consciously to
submit to this law (our true Providence) realising the direction
which it prescribes for us, instead of obeying it blindly . Let us
remark in passing that it is just in this that w ill consist the grand
step forward which the philosophical intelligence of our age is
destined to accomplish.*
And so hum anity is absolutely subordinated to the law of its
own intellectual development; it could not escape the influence of
that law, should it even desire to do so. Let us examine this
statement more closely, and take as an example the law of the
three stages. M ankind moved from theological thought to meta
physical, from metaphysical to positive. This law acted with the
force of the laws of mechanics.
This may very well be so, but the question arises, how are we
to understand the idea that mankind could not alter the workings
"f this law should if even desire to do so? Does this mean that it
'oiild not have avoided metaphysics if it had even realised the
advantages of positive thin k ing while still at the end of the
theological period? E vidently no; and if the answer is no. then it
>s no less evident that there is some lack of clarity in Saint-Sim ons
view of the conformity of intellectual development to law.
Wherein lies this unclarity and how does it come about?
*
L'Orgamsateur, p. 11!) (Vol. IV of lhe Wor/rs of Saint-Simon, or Vol. X X
> tho Complete Works of Saint-Simon and Enfantin).
514
G. P L E K IIA N O V
It lies in the very contrasting of the law with the desire to alter
its action. Once such a desire has made its appearance anionnm ankind, it becomes itself a fact in the history of mankind'^
intellectual development, and the law must embrace this fact
not come into conflict w ith it. So long as we adm it the possibility
of such a conflict, we have not yet made clear to ourselves tho
conception of law itself, and wo shall inevitably fall into one 0j
two extremes: either we shall abandon the standpoint of conform!,
ty to law and w ill be taking up the view-point of what is desirable
or we shall completely let the desirable or more truly what was
desired by the people of the given epoch fall out of our field of
vision, and thereby shall be attrib u tin g to law some mystical
shade of significance, transforming it into a kind of Fate. Law
in the writings of Saint-Simon arid of the Utopians generally, t0
the extent that they speak of conformity to law, is just such
a Fate. We may remark in passing that when the Russian subjec
tive sociologists rise up in defence of personality, ideals" and
other excellent things, they are warring precisely w ith the uto
p ia n , unclear, incomplete and therefore worthless doctrine of the
natural course of things. Our sociologists appear never even to
have heard what constitutes the modern scientific conception of th*
laws underlying the historical development of society.
Whence arose the utopian lack of clarity in the conception of
conformity to law? It arose from the radical defect, which we have
already pointed out, in the view of the development of humanity
which the Utopians held and, as we know already, not they alnne.
The history of hum anity was explained by the nature of man.
Once that nature was fixed, there were also fixed the laws of histo
rical development, all history was given an sick, as Ilegel would
have said. Man can just as little interfere in the course of his
development as he can cease being man. The law of development
makes its appearance in the form of Providence.
This is historical fatalism resulting from a doctrine which
considers the successes of knowledge and consequently flic
conscious activity of man to be the mainspring of historical
progress.
Bul let us go further.
If the key to tho understanding of history is provided by tlir
study of the nature of man, what is important to me is not so nm ch
the study of the facts of history as the correct understanding of
human nature. Once I have acquired the right view of the latter.
I lose almost all interest in social life as it is. and concentrate all
my attention on social life as it ought to be in keeping with th?
nature of man. Fatalism in history does not in the least interfere
w ith a utopian attitude to reality in practice. On the contrary,
it promotes such an attitude, by breaking off the thread of scieii'
the
DEVELOPMENT OK THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 515
tific investigation. Fatalism in general marches frequently hand

in hand with the most extreme subjectivism. Fatalism very commonly
p r o c l a i m s its own state of mind t o he an inevitable law o f bisto
ry. ft is jst of the fatalists that one can say, in the words of tho
poet:
Was sie den Geist der Geschichte nennen,
Ist nur der Ilerren eigner Geist.*
TheSaint-Simonists asserted that the share of the social product
which falls to the exploiters of another's labour, gradually d im in
ishes. Such a dim inution was in Iheir eyes the most im portant law
governing the economic development of hum anity. As a proof
they referred to the gradual decline in the level of interest and land
rent. If in this case they had kept lo the methods of strict scien
tific investigation, they would have discovered the economic
causes of the phenomenon to which they pointed, and lor this
they would have had attentively to study production, reproduction
and distribution of products. Had they done this they would have
seen, perhaps, that the decline in the level of interest or even of
land rent, if it really takes place, does not by any means prove of
itself that there is a decline in the share of lhe property owners.
Then their economic law would, of course, have found quite
a different formulation. But they were not interested in Ibis.
Confidence in the omnipotence of the mysterious laws arising out
of the nature of man directed their intellectual activity into quite
adifferent sphere. A tendency which has predominated in history
up to now can only grow stronger in the future, said they: the
constant dim inution in the share of the exploiters will necessarily
end in its complete disappearance, i.e.. in the disappearance of
the class of exploiters itself. Foresoeing this, we must already loday
invent new forms of social organisation in which there will no
longer be any place for exploiters. It is evident from other q u a li
ties of human nature lhat these forms must be such and such....
The plan of social reorganisalion was prepared very rapidly: the
extremely important scientific conception of the conformity of so
cial phenomena to law gave birth lo a couple of utopian recipes....
Such recipes were considered by the Utopians of that day lobe
the most important problem with which a thinker was faced.
This or that principle of political economy was not im portant in
itself. It acquired importance in view of the practical conclusions
which followed from it. J. B. Say argued with Ricardo about what
determined the exchange value of commodities. Very possibly
this is an im portant question from the point of view of specialists.
*
[W hat they call the Spirit of History is only the spirit of these gentleDlen themselves.35]
33*
516
G. P LEK HA NO V
But oven more im portant is i l to know what ought to determine

value, and the specialists, unfortunately, do not attempt to think
about this. Let us think for the specialists. H um an nature clearly
gives us facts. Once we begin to listen to its voice, we see
w ith astonishment that the argument so im portant in the eyes
of the specialists is, in reality, not very im portant. We can agree
w ith Say, because from his theses there follow conclusions fully in
harmony w ith the requirements of hum an nature. We can agree
w ith Ricardo too, because his views likewise, being correctly
interpreted and supplemented, can only reinforce those require
ments. It was in this way that utopian thought unceremoniously
interfered in those scientific discussions the meaning of which
remained obscuro for it. It was in this way that cultivated men,
richly gifted by nature, for example Erifantin, resolved the con
troversial questions of the political economy of their day.
E nfantin wrote a number of studies in political economy which
cannot bo considered a serious contribution to science, but which
nevertheless cannot be ignored, as is done up to the present day
by the historians of political economy and socialism. The economic
works of E nfantin have their significance as an interesting phase
in the history of the development of socialist thought. But his
attitude to the arguments of the economists may be well illustrat
ed by the following example.
It is known that M althus stubbornly and, by the way, very
unsuccessfully contested Ricardos theory of rent. Enfantin be
lieved that truth was, in fact, on the side of the first, and not of the
second. B ul he did not even contest R icardos theory: he did not
consider this necessary. In his opinion all discussions on the
nature of rent and as to the actual relative rise or fall of the part
taken by the property owners from the labourer ought to be re
duced to one question: what is the nature of those relations which
ought in the interests of society to exist between the producer who
has withdrawn from affairs (that was the name given by Enfan
tin to the landowners) and the active producer (i.e., the farmer)?
When these relations become known, it w ill bo sufficient, to
ascertain the means which w ill lead to the establishment of
such relations; in doing so it w ill be necessary to take into account
also the present condition of society, but nevertheless any otlior
question (apart, from (hat set forth above) would be secondary,
and would only impede those combinations which must promote
the use of the above-mentioned means. *
The principal task of political economy, which E nfantin w o u l d
prefer to call J"the philosophical history of industry, consists in
*
In his article, Considerations sur la baisse progressive du loyer de
objets mobiliers et immobiliers , Le Producteur, Vol. I., p. 564.
pointing out both the m utual relations of various strata of pro

ducers and the relationships of the whole class of producers with
the other classes of society. These indications must he founded
0n the study of the historical development of the industrial class,
aI1(l such a study must he founded 011 the new conception of the
human race, i.e., in other words, of human nature.*
M a lth u s
challenge to R icardos theory of rent was closely
bound up with his challenge lo the very well-known as people
now say labour theory of value. Paying little attention to the
substance of the controversy, Enfantin hastened to resolve it
by a utopian addition (or, as people in Russia say nowadays,
amendment) to R icardos theory of rent: If we understand this
theory aright, he says, we ought, it seems to me. to add to it
th a t... the labourers pay (i.e., pay in the form of rent) some people
for the leisure which those enjoy, and for the right to make use of
the means of production.
By labourers E nfantin meant here also, and even principally,
the capitalist farmers. W h at he said of their relations w ith the
landowners is quite true. But. his amendment is nothing more
than a sharper expression of a phenomenon with which Ricardo
himself was well acquainted. Moreover, this sharp expression
(Adam S m ith sometimes speaks even more sharply) not only did
not solve the question either of value or of rent, but completely
removed it from E n fa n tin s field of view. But for him these ques
tions did not in fact exist. He was interested solely in the future
organisation of society. It was important for him to convince the
reader lhat private property on the means of production ought not
to exist. E nfantin says plainly that, but for practical questions
of this kind, all the learned disputes concerning value would be
simply disputes about words. This, so to speak, is the subjective
method in political economy.
The Utopians never directly recommended this method .
But that they were very partial to it is shown, among other ways,
by the fact that E nfantin reproached Malthus (!) with excessive
objectivity. Objectivity was, in his opinion, the principal fault
f that writer. Whoever knows the works of Malthus is aware that
>t is precisely objectivity (so characteristic, for example, of
Ricardo) that, was always foreign to the author of the Essay on the
Principle of Population. We do not know whether Enfantin read
Malthus himself (everything obliges us to think that, for example,
the views of Ricardo were known to him only from the extracts
yhich the French economists made from this writings); but even
he did read them, ho could hardly have assessed them at their
*
See in particular the article in Le Producteur, Vol. IV , Considerations
8llr les progres de l economie politique.
518
G. P LEKHANOV
true value, he would hardly have been able to show thal real
life was in contradiction to Malthus. Preoccupied with considera
tions about what ought to be, Enfantin had neither the time nor
the desire attentively lo study what really existed. You are right,
he was ready to say to the first sycophant he met. In presentday social life matters proceed just as you describe them, but you
are excessively objective; glance al the question Trom the humane
point of view, and you w ill see that our social life must be rebuilt
on new foundations.
Utopian dilettantism was forced to make theoretical conces
sions to any more or less learned defender or the bourgeois order,
In order to allay the consciousness rising w ithin him of his own
impotence, the U topian consoled himself by reproaching his
opponents w ith objectivity: let us admit you are more learned
than I, but I am kinder. The Utopian did not refute the learned
defenders of the bourgeoisie; he only made footnotes and
amendments to their theories. A sim ilar, quite utopian atti
tude to social science meets the eye of the attentive reader on
every page of the works of our subjective sociologists. We shall
have occasion yet to speak a good deal of such an attitude. Let us
meanwhile quote two vivid examples.
In 1871 there appeared the dissertation by the late N. Sieber:
Ricardos Theory of Value and Capital, in the Light of Later
Elucidations. In his foreword the author benevolently, but only
in passing, referred to the article of Mr. Y. Zhukovsky: Tin?
School of Adam Sm ith and Positivism in Economic Science)
(this article appeared in the Sovremennik366 of 1864). On the
subject of this passing reference Mr. M ikhailovsky remarks: "Itis pleasant for mo to recall that in my article On the Literary
A ctivity of Y. G. Zhukovsky I paid a great and just tribute to
the services rendered by our economist. I pointed out lhat Mr.
Zhukovsky had long ago expressed the thought that it was neces
sary to return to the sources of political economy, which provide
all the data fora correct solution of the main problems of science,
data which have been quite distorted by the modern text-book
political economy. But I then indicated also that the honour of
priority in this idea, which later on proved so fruitful in the power
ful hands of Karl Marx, belonged in Russian literature not lo M r .
Zhukovsky, but to another writer, the author of the articlc?
Economic A ctiv ity and Legislation (Sovremennik. 1859), Capi
tal and Labour (1860), the Comments on M i l l , etc . 367 Tn a d d itio n
to priority in time, the difference between this writer and Mr.
Zhukovsky can be expressed most v iv id ly in the following wav.
If, for example, Mr. Zhukovsky circum stantially and in a strict
ly scientific fashion, even somewhat pedantically, proves that
labour is the measure of value and that every value is produced by
labour, the author of the above-mentioned articles, w ithout losing

sight of the theoretical aspect of the question, lays principal stress
0n the logical and practical conclusion from it: being produced
and measured by labour, every value must belong to labour. *
One does not have to be greatly versed in political economy to
know that the author of the Comments on M ill" entirely failed to
understand the theory of value which later received such bril
liant development in the powerful hands of Marx. And every
person who knows the history of socialism understands why that
author, in spite of Mr. M ikhailovskys assurances, did in fact
lose sight of the theoretical aspect of the question and wandered
off into meditations about the basis on which products ought
to be exchanged in a well-regulated society. The author of the
Comments on M ill regarded economic questions from the stand
point of a Utopian. This was quite natural at the time. B ut it is
very strange that Mr. M ikhailovsky was unable to divest himself
of this point of view in the 70s (and did not do so even later, other
wise he would have corrected his mistake in the latest edition of
his works) when it was easy to acquire a more correct view of
things, even from popular works. Mr. M ikhailovsky did not
understand what the author of the Comments on M i IF wrote
about value. This took place because he, too, lost sight of the
theoretical aspect of the question and wandered off into the logical
and practical conclusion from it", i.e., the consideration that every
value must belong to labour . We know already that their pas
sion for practical conclusions always had a harmful effect on the
theoretical reasoning of the Utopians. And how old is the con
clusion which turned Mr. Mikhailovsky from the true path is
shown by the circumstance that it was being drawn from Ricardo's
theory of value by tho English Utopians even of the 1820s. But,
as a Utopian. Mr. M ikhailovsky is not interested even in the
history of Utopias.
Another example. Mr. V. V.. in 18S2, explained in the following
way the appearance of his book, The Destinies of Capitalism in
Russia:
The collection now offered to the reader consists of articles
printed earlier in various journals. In publishing them as a sepa
rate book, we have brought them only into external un ity , dis
posed the material in a somewhat different fashion and elim inated
repetitions (far from all: very many of them remained in Mr.
V .V .s book.G .P .). Their content has remained the same;
few new facts and arguments have been adduced; and if neverthe
less we venture for a second time to present our work to the atten
*
N. K. Mikhailovsky, M'orfrs, Vol. II (Second ed.), St. Petersburg, 1888,
PP- 239-40.
520
G. P LEKHANOV
tion of the reader, we do so w ith one sole a im by attacking his

world outlook w ith all the weapons at our command, to force
the intelligentsia to turn its attention to the question raised"
(an impressive picture: W ith a ll the weapons at his command
Mr. V.V. attacks the world outlook of the reader, and the terril
fled intelligentsia capitulates, turns its attention, etc.G.P.)
and to challenge our learned and professional publicists of capi
talism and Narodism to study the law of the economic develop
ment of Russia the foundation of all the other expressions of the
life of the country. W ith o u t the knowledge of this law, systematic
and successful social activity is impossible, while the conceptions
of the immediate future of Russia which prevail amongst us can
scarcely be called a law (conceptions... can be called law?!
G .P.) and are hardly capable of providing a firm foundation for
a practical world outlook (Preface, p. 1).
In 1893 the same Mr. V. V ., who had had time to be*
come a professional, though, alas! still not a learned publicist of
Narodism, turned out to be very remote from the idea that
the law of economic development constitutes the foundation of
all the other expressions of the life of the country. Now with
all the weapons he attacks the world outlook of people who
hold such a view ; now he considers that in this view, the histor
ical process, instead of being the creation of m an, is transformed
into a creative force, and man into its obedient tool"*; now he
considers social relations to be the creation of the spiritual
world of man,* * and views w ith extreme suspicion the theory of
the conformity to law of social phenomena, setting up against it
the scientific philosophy of history of Professor of History
N. I. Kareyev (hear, O tongues, and be stilled, since the Profes
sor himself is w ith u s!).*** 868
W hat a change, w ith G ods help! W hat brought it about? Why,
this. In 1882, Mr. V. V. was looking for the law of the economic
development of Russia , im agining that that law would be only
the scientific expression of his own "ideals. He was even con
vinced that he had discovered such a law namely, the law that
Russian capitalism was stillborn. But after this he did not live
eleven wholo years in vain. He was obliged to adm it, even though
not aloud, that stillborn capitalism was developing more and
more. It turned out that the development of capitalism had be
come nil but the most unquestionable law of tho economic develop
ment of Russia . And lo, Mr. V. V. hastened to turn his philo
sophy of history inside out: he who had sought for a law began
*
Our Trends, St. Petersburg, 1893, p. 138.
** Loc. cit., pp. 9, 13, 140, and many others.
*** Ibid., pp. 143 el seq.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IST O R Y 524
to say that snc-h a search is quite an idle waste of time. The Rus
sian Utopian is not averse to relying on a law ; but he immediate
ly renounces it, as Peter did Jesus, if only the law is at vari
ance with that ideal which he has to support, not only for
fear, but for conscience sake. However Mr. V. V. even now has
not parted company w ilh the law forever. The natural striv
ing' to systematise its views ought to bring tho Russian in te lli
gentsia to the elaboration of an independent scheme of evolution
of economic relations, appropriate to the requirements and the
conditions of development of this country; and this task w ill be
undoubtedly performed inthevery near future (Our Trends, p. 114).
In elaborating its independent scheme , the Russian in te lli
gentsia will evidently devote itself to the same occupation as Mr.
V. V. when, in his Destinies of Capitalism , he was looking for
a law. When the scheme is discovered and Mr. V. V. takes his
Bible oath that it w ill be discovered in the immediate future
our author w ill just ns solemnly make his peace w ith the principle
of conformity to law, as the father in the New Testament made his
peace with his prodigal son. Amusing people! It is obvious that,
even at the time when Mr. V. V. was still looking for a law, he
did not clearly realise what meaning this word could have when
applied to social phenomena, fie regarded law as the Utopians
of the 20s regarded it. O nly this can explain the fact that he was
hoping to discover the law of development of one country Russia.
But why does he attribute his modes of thought to the Russian
Marxists? He is mistaken if he thinks that, in their understanding
of the conformity of social phenomena to law, they have gone no
further than the Utopians did. And that he does think this, is shown
by all his arguments against it. And he is not alone in thinking
this: the Professor of History Mr. Kareyev himself thinks this:
and so do all the opponents of Marxism". First of all they attribute
to Marxists a utopian view of the conformity to law of social phe
nomena, and then strike down this view w ith more or less doubt
ful success. A real case of tiltin g at w indm ills!
r"
By the wav, about the learned Professor of History. Here are
the expressions in which he recommends the subjective view of
the historical development of hum anity: If in the philosophy of
history we are interested in the question of progress, this very
fact dictates the selection of the essential content of knowledge,
its facts and their grouping. B ut facts cannot be either invented
or placed in invented relations (consequently there must be noth
ing arbitrary either in the selection or in the grouping? Consequent
the grouping must entirely correspond to objective reality?
ês! Just listen!G .P .) and tho presentation of the course of
history from a certain point of view w ill remain objective, in the
sense of the truth of the presentation. Here subjectivism of another
ly
522
G. PLEKHANOV
kind appears on the scene: creative synthesis may bring into

existence an entire ideal world of norms, a world of what ought to
be, a world of the true and just, w ith which actual history, i.e.,
the objective representation of its course, grouped in a certain
way from the standpoint of essential changes in the life of hum an
ity, w ill be compared. On the basis of this comparison there arises
ail assessment of the historical process which, however, must also
not be arbitrary. It must be proved that the grouped facts, as wo
have them, really do have the significance which we attribute to
them, having taken up a definite point of view and adopted a defi
nite criterion for their evaluation.
Shchedrin34* writes of a venerable Moscow historian who, boast
ing of his objectivity, used to say: I t s all the same to me whether
Yaroslav beat Izyaslav or Izyaslav beat Yaroslav. Mr. Kareyev,
having created for himself an entire ideal world of norms, a world
of what ought to be, a world of the true and just, has nothing lo
do with objectivity of that kind. lie sympathises, shall we say,
w ith Yaroslav, and although he w ill not allow himself to repre
sent his defeat as though it were his victory (facts cannot be
invented), nevertheless he reserves the precious right of shedding
a tear or two about the sad fate of Yaroslav, and cannot refrain
from a curse addressed to his conqueror Izyaslav. It is difficult to
raise any objection to that kind of subject ivism. But in vain does
Mr. Kareyev represent it in such a colourless and therefore harm
less plight. To present it in this way means not to understand its
true nature, and to drown it in a stream of sentimental phraseolo
gy. In reality, the distinguishing feature of subjective thinkers
consists in the fact that for them tho world of what ought to be,
the world of tho true and just stands outside any connection with
tho objective course of historical development: on the one side is
what ought to be, on the other side is reality, and these two
spheres are separated by an entire abyss that abyss which among
the dualists separates the material world from thespiritual world370.
The task of social science in the nineteenth century has been,
among other things, to build a bridge across this evidently bottom
less abyss. So long as we do not build this bridge, we shall ot
necessity close our eyes to reality and concentrate all our attention
on what ought to be" (as the Saint-Simonists did, for example):
which naturally w ill only have the effect of delaying the transla
tion into life of this what ought to be , since it renders more diffi
cult the forming of an accurate opinion of it.
We already know that the historians of tho Restoration, *n
contradistinction to t h e writers of the Enlightenment in the
eighteenth century, regarded the political institutions of any
country as the result of its civil conditions. This new view became
so widespread and developed that in ils application to p r a c t i c a l
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 523
questions it readied strange extremes which to us nowadays

are almost incomprehensible. Thus, J. IJ. Say asserted thal polit
ical questions should not interest an economist, because the
national economy can develop equally well even under diametri
cally opposite political systems. Sainl-Siinon notes and applauds
this idea of S ays, although in facl he does give it a somewhat more
profound content. W ith very few exceptions, all the Utopians of
the nineteenth century share this view of politics.
Theoretically the view is mistaken in two respects. In the first
place, the people who held it forgot that in the life of society, as
everywhere where it is a case of a process and not of some isolatod
phenomenon, a consequence becomes, in its turn, a cause, ami
a cause proves to be a consequence. In short, they abandoned here,
at quite the wrong moment, th a l very point of view of interaction
to which in other cases, also at very much the wrong moment, they
lim ited their analysis. Secondly, if political relations are Ihe con
sequence of social relations, it is incomprehensible how conse
quences which differ to the extreme (political institutions of a
diam etrically opposite character) can be brought about by one
and the same cause the same state of wealth . Evidently the
very conception of the causal relationship between the political
institutions of a country and its economic condition was still
extremely vague; and in fact it would not be difficult to show how
vague it was with all the Utopians.
In practice this vagueness brought about a double consequence.
On the one hand the Utopians, who spoke so much about the
organisation of labour, were ready occasionally to repeat the old
watchword of the eighteenth century laissez faire, laissez pas
ser. Thus, Saint-Simon, who saw in Ihe organisation of industry
the greatest task of the nineteenth century, wrote: l industrie
a besoin d etre gouvernee le moins possible. ( Industry has need
of being governed as little as possible.)* On tho other hand the
Utopians again with some exceptions falling in the later period
were quite indifferent to current politics, to the political questions
of the day.
The political system is a consequence, not a cause. A conse
quence always remains a consequence, never becoming in its
turn a cause. Hence followed the almost direct conclusion that
politics cannot serve as a means of realising social ami economic
ideals. We can therefore understand the psychology of the
*
The writers of the Enlightenment in Ihe eighteenth century contra
dicted themselves in just the same way, although their contradiction dis
played itself otherwise. They stood for non-interference by the slate, and
yet at times required the most polty regulation by the legislator. The con
nection of politics (which they considered a cause) with economy (which
they considered a consequence) was also unclear to them.
524
G. PLEK H A N O V
Utopian who turned away from politics. But what did they think
would help them realise their plans of social transformation?
W hat was it they pinned their practical hopes on? Everything and
nothing. Everything in the sense that they awaited help indiffer
ently from the most opposed quarters. Nothing in the sense
that all their hopes were quite unfounded.
The Utopians imagined that they were extremely practical
people. They hated doctrinaires , 371 and unhesitatingly sacrificed
their most high-sounding principles to their own idees fixes. They
were neither Liberals, nor Conservatives, nor Monarchists, nor
Republicans. They were quite ready to march indifferently with
the Liberals and with the Conservatives, with the Monarchists and
w ith the Republicans, if only they could carry out their practi
cal'" in their view, extremely practical plans. Of the old Utopi
ans Fourier was particularly noteworthy in this respect. Like
Gogols Kostanjoglo, he tried to use every piece of rubbish for the
good cause. Now he allured money-lenders with the prospect of
the vast interest which their capital would bring them in the
future society; now he appealed to the lovers of melons and arti
chokes, drawing for them a seductive picture of the excellent mel
ons and artichokes of the future; now he assured Louis Philippe
that the princesses of the House of Orleans, at whom at the time
other princes of the blood were turning up their noses, would
have no peace from suitors under the new social order. He snatched
at every straw. But, alas! neither the money-lenders, nor the
lovers of melons and artichokes, nor the Citizen K ing, as they
say, pricked up an ear: they did not pay the slightest attention to
what, it m ight have seemed, were the most convincing arguments
of Fourier. Ilis practicality turned out to be doomed beforehand
to failure, and to be a hopeless chase after a lucky coincidence.
The chase of the lucky coincidence was the constant occupation
of the writers of the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century as
well. It was just in hope of such a coincidence that they sought by
every means, fair and foul, to enter into friendly relations with
more or less enlightened legislators and aristocrats of their age.
Usually it is thought that once a man has said to himself that
opinion governs the world, he no longer has any reason to despair
of the future: la raison finira pas avoir raison. But this is not so.
When and in what way w ill reason triumph? The writers of the
Enlightenment held that in the life of society everything depends,
in the long run, on the legislator. Therefore they went on their
search for legislators. But the same writers knew very well that
the character and views of man depend on his upbringing, and that
generally speaking their upbringing did not predispose the legi*
slators" to the absorption of enlightened doctrines. Therefore they
could not but realise that little hope could be placed in the
legislators. There remained only to trust to a lucky coincidence.

]niag>ne
yu have an enormous box in which there are very
nlany black balls and two or three white ones. You take out ball
after ball. In each individual case you have incomparably fewer
chances of taking out a white ball than a black. But, if you repeat
the operation a sufficient number of times, you w ill finally take
out a white ball. The same applies to the legislators. In each
individual case it is incomparably more probable that the legis
lator will be against the philosophers": but in the end there must
appear, after all, a legislator who would be in agreement with the
philosophers. This one w ill do everything that reason dictates.
Thus, literally thus, did Helvetius argue.* The subjective idealist
view of history (opinions govern the world), which seems to provide
such a wide field for m ans freedom of action, in reality represents
him as the plaything of accident. That is why this view in its essence
is very hopeless.
Thus, for example, we know nothing more hopeless than the
views of the Utopians of the end of the nineteenth century, i.e., the
Russian Narodniks and subjective sociologists. Each of them has
his ready-made plan for saving the Russian village commune,
and with it the peasantry generally: each of them has his formula
of progress. B u i, alas, life moves on, without paying attention to
their formulae, which have nothing left but to find their own
path, also independently of real life, into the sphere of abstrac
tions, fantasies and logical mischances. Let us, for example, listen
to the Achilles of the subjective school, Mr. Mikhailovsky.
The labour question in Europe is a revolutionary question since
it requires the transfer of the conditions (?) of labour into the
hands of the labourer, the expropriation of the present owners.
The labour question in Russia is a conservative question, since
here all that is needed is preserving the conditions of labour in the
hands of the labourer, guaranteeing to the present owners the
property they possess. Quite close to St. Petersburg itself ... in
a district dotted with factories, works, parks, country cottages,
there are villages the inhabitants of which live on their own
land, burn their own timber, oat their own bread, wear coats and
sheepskins made by their own labour out of the wool ot their own
sheep. Give them a firm guarantee that this property of theirs will
remain their own, and the Russian labour question is solved.
And for the sake of such a purpose everything else can be given
'ip, if we properly understand the significance of a stable guaran
tee. I t w ill be said: but we cannot for ever remain with wooden
. * Dansun temps plus ou moins long il faut, disent les sages, que toutes
possibility se realisent: pourquoi desesperer du bonheur futur do l'humanite?
*
526
G. P LEK HA N O V
ploughs and three-field economy, w ith antediluvian methods of

making coats and sheepskins. We cannot. There are two ways out.
of this difficulty. One, approved by the practical point of view, is
very simple and convenient: raise the tariffs, dissolve the village
commune, and that, probably w ill be enough industry like
that of Great Britain w ill grow up like a mushroom. But it will
devour the labourer and expropriate him . There is another way, of
course much more difficult: but the simple solution of a question is
not necessarily the correct solution. The other way consists in
developing those relations between labour and property which
already exist, although in an extremely crude and prim itive form.
Obviously this end cannot be achieved without broad intervention
by the state, the first act of which should be the legislative consoli
dation oT the village commune.*
Through the wide world
For the free heart
There are two paths still.
Weigh your proud strength,
Bend your firm, mind,
Choose which you will]3"2
We suspect that all the arguments of our author have a strong
aroma of melons and artichokes; and our sense of smell hardly
deceives us. W hat was Fouriers mistake in his dealings with
melons and artichokes? It was that he fell into subjective sociol
ogy. The objective sociologist would ask himself: is there any
probability lhat the lovers of melons and artichokes w ill be attract
ed by the picture I have drawn? lie would then ask himself: are
the lovers of melons and artichokes in a position to alter existing
social relations and the present course of their development? It is
most probable that he would have given himself a negative reply
to each of these questions, and therefore would not have wasted
his time on conversation with the melon and artichoke lovers.
But that is how an objective sociologist would have acted, i.e.,
a man who founded all his calculations upon the given course of
social development in conformity to law. The subjective sociolo
gist, on the other hand, discards conformity to law in the name of
the desirable", and therefore there remains no other way out f'r
him but to trust in chance. As the old Russian saying has it. i
a tight corner yon can shoot with a slick loo: that is the only con
soling reflection upon which a good subjective sociologist can relyIn a tight corner you can shoot with a stick too. But a stick Im?
two ends, and we do not know which end it shoots from. Our
Narodniks and, if I may use the expression, subjectivists have
* N. K. Mikhailovsky, Works, Vol. I I (Second cd.), pp. 102-03.
already tried a vast number of sticks (even the argument as to the

convenience of collecting arrears of taxes in the village-commune
system of landholding has sometimes appeared in the role of
a magic stick). In the vast m ajority of cases the sticks proved
quite incapable of playing the part of guns, and when by chance
they did fire, the bullets hit the Narodniks and subjectivists
themselves. Let us recall the Peasant Bank . 373 W hat hopes were
placed upon it, in the sense of reinforcing our social foundations !
Ilow the Narodniks rejoiced when it was opened! And what
happened? The stick fired precisely at those who were rejoicing.
Now they themselves admit that the Peasant B ank a very valu
able institution in any case only undermines the foundations';
and this admission is equivalent to a confession lhat those who rejoi
ced were at least for some tim e also engaged in idle chatter . 374
But then the Bank undermines the foundations only because
its statutes and its practice do not completely correspond to our
idea. If our idea had been completely applied, the results would
have been quite different....
In the first place, they would not have been quite different
at all: the Bank in any case would have facilitated tho develop
ment of money economy, and money economy would inexorably
have undermined the foundations'. And secondly, when we hear
these endless ifs , it seems all the time to us, for some reason,
that there is a man with a barrow shouting under our windows:
Here are melons, melons, and good artichokes!'
It was already in the 20s of the present century that the French
Utopians were incessantly pointing out the conservative charac
ter of the reforms they had invented. Saint-Simon openly tried
to frighten both the government and what we nowadays call
society with a popular insurrection, which was meant to present
itself to the imaginations of tlie conservatives in the shape of the
terrible movement of the sansculottes, still vividly remembered
hy all. But. of course nothing came of this frightening, and if
history really provides us with any lessons, one of the most instruc
tive is that which attests the complete unpracticalily of all the
plans of all the would-be practical Utopians.
When the Utopians, pointing to the conservative character
of their plans, tried to incline the government to put them into
effect, they usually, to confirm their idea, presented a survey
f the historical development of their country over a more or less
prolonged epoch a survey from which it followed that on these
nJ those particular occasions mistakes were made, which had
Siven a quite new and extremely undesirable aspect to all social
Relations. The government had only to realise and correct these
niistakes immediately lo establish on earth something almost
resembling paradise.
528
G. PLEK HA N O V
Thus, Saint-Simon assured the Bourbons that before the revo

lution the main distinguishing feature of the internal develop
ment of France was an alliance between the monarchy and the
industrialists. This alliance was equally advantageous for both
sides. During the revolution the government, through a misun
derstanding, came out against the legitimate demands of the
industrialists, and the industrialists, through just as sad a misun
derstanding, revolted against the monarchy. Hence all the evils
of the age that followed. But now that the root of the evil had
been laid bare things could be put straight very easily, as the
industrialists had only to make their peace on certain conditions
with the government. It is this that would be the most reasonable,
conservative way out of the numerous difficulties of both sides.
It is unnecessary to add now that neither the Bourbons nor the
industrialists followed the sage advice of Saint-Simon.
Instead of firmly keeping to our age-old traditions; instead
of developing the principle of the intim ate connection between
the means of production and the direct producer, which we inhe
rited; instead of taking advantage of the acquisitions of West
European science and applying them for the development of
forms of industry, founded on the possession by the peasantry
of the implements of production; instead of increasing the pro
ductivity of its labour by concentrating the means of production
in its hands; instead of taking advantage, not of the form of pro
duction, but of its very organisation as it appears in Western
Europe ... instead of all this, we have taken a quite opposite
path. We not only have not prevented the development of the
capitalist forms of production, in spite of the fact that they are
founded on the expropriation of the peasantry, but on the contrary
have tried w ith all our strength to promote the complete break
up of all our economic life, a break-up which led to the faminn
of 1891.* Thus laments Mr. N . on, recommending society"
to correct this mistake by solving an extremely difficult but
not impossible problem: to develop the productive forces of the
population in such a form that not an insignificant m inority, but
ihe entire people could take advantage of them .** Everything
depends upon correcting the mistake .
It is interesting that Mr. N . on imagines himself to be ever
so foreign to any Utopias. Every minute he makes references to
people to whom we owe the scientific criticism of utopian social
ism . 376 Everything depends on the countrys economy, he repeats
in season and out of season, echoing these people, and all thu
*
Nikolai on [N. Danielson], Outlines of Our Social Economy SinCt tht
Reform, St. Petersburg, 1893, pp. 322-23.
* Ibid., p. 343.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 529
springs from this: Therefore the means to elim inate the

once it has been discovered, must consist likewise in altering
the very conditions of production. To explain this he once again
quotes one of the critics of utopian socialism: These means are
n o t to be invented by deduction from fundamental principles, but
are to be discovered in the stubborn facts of the existing system
of production.*
But in what, then, consist those stubborn facts of the existing
system of production which w ill move society to solve, or at least to
understand, the problem presented to it by M r. N . on? This
remains a mystery not only to the reader but, of course, to the
author himself as well. By his problem he has very convincingly
demonstrated that in his historical views he remains a full-blooded
Utopian, in spite of his quotations from the works of quite nonutopian writers.**
Can it be said that the plans of Fourier contradicted the stub
born facts of production in his times? No, not only did they not
contradict them, but they were entirely founded upon those
facts, even in their defects. But this did not prevent Fourier
from being a Utopian, because, once having founded his plan
by deduction" on the material conditions of the production of
his age, he failed to adapt its realisation to those same conditions,
and therefore with complete fu tility pestered with his great task" those
social strata and classes which, in virtue of those same material
conditions, could not have either the inclination to set about its
solution or the possibility of solving it. Mr. N . on sins in this
way just as much as Fourier or the Rodbertus whom he loves
so little: most of all he reminds one precisely of Rodbertus, be
cause Mr. N . ons reference to age-old traditions is just in the
spirit of that conservative writer.
e v il
e v il,
*
[K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected IVorks in three volumes, Vol. 3,
Moscow, 1973, p. 134.]
** Correspondingly, Mr. N .ons practical plans also represent an
almost literal repetition of those demands which long ago and, of course,
quite fruitlessly were presented by our utopian N arodniks, like, for example,
Mr. Prugavin. The ultimate ends and tasks of social and state activity
(you see, neither society nor [the state is forgotten) in the sphere of factory
economy must be: on the one hand, the purchase for the state of all imple
ments of labour and the granting of the latter to the people for temporary
use. for hire; on the other, the establishment of an organisation of the condi*ions of production (Mr. Prugavin wants to say simply "production , but
s is the custom of all Russian writers, headed by Mr. Mikhailovsky, he
[isos the expression "conditions of production, without understanding what
it means) which would be founded upon the requirements of the people and
jhe state, and not on the interests of the market, of disposal and of competi
tion, which is the case in the commodity-capitalist organisation of the econom
ic forces of the country (V. S. Prugavin, The H andicraftsm an a t the E x h i
bition, Moscow, 1882, p. 15). Let the reader compare this passage with the
oliove quotation from the book of Mr. N .on.
3i - 0 t 3 2 0
530
G. P LEKHANOV
For lhe better instruction of society". Mr. X . on points

to the terrifying example of Western Europe. By such obser
vations our Utopians have long attempted to give themselves
the aspect of positive people, who don't get carried away by
fantasies b nl know how to take advantage of the lessons of
history". However this method, too, is not at a ll new. The French
Utopians were already attem pting to terrify their contemporaries
and make them listen to reason by the example of England, whom
a vast distance separates the employer from the workman and
where there hangs over the latter the yoke of a special kind uf
despotism. Other countries which follow England along the
path of industrial development, said the Producteur, 376 must
understand that they ought to search for lhe means to prevent
such a system arising on their own soil.* The only real obstacle
to the appearance of English methods in other countries could
be the Saint-Simonists organisation of labour and labourers .**
W ith the development of the labour movement in France it was
Germany that became the principal theatre of day-dreams about
avoiding capitalism. Germany, in the person of her Utopians,
long and stubbornly set herself up against Western Europe (den
westlichen Landern). In the Western countries, said the German
Utopians, the bearer of the idea of a new organisation of society
is the working class, with us it is the educated classes (what is
called in Russia the intelligentsia). It was precisely the German
intelligentsia which was thought to be called upon to avert from
Germany the cup of capitalism .*** Capitalism was so terrifying
* Lr Producteur, Vol. 1, p. 140.
** On this organisation, see the Globe377 for 1831-32, where it is set forth
in detail, with even the preparatory transitional reforms.
*** v nserc Nationalokonomen stroben mil. alien Kraften Deutschland
auf die Stufc der Industrie zu heben, von welcher hurab England jetzl diuandern Lander noch beherrscht. England ist ihr Ideal. Gewiss: England
sieht sich gern schon an; England hat seine Besitzungen in alien Welttheilen,
es weiss seinen Einfluss aller Orten geltend zu machen, es hat die reiclisl>
Handels- und Kriegsflotte, es weiss bei alien Ilandelstraktaten die Gegonkontrahenten inimer hinters Licht zu fiihren, es hat die spekulativnteu
Kaufleute, die bedoutendstcn Kapitalisten, die erlindungsreichstun KupIV,
die ruarlitigsten Eisenbahnen, die grossartigsten Maschinenanlagen; gowis;,
England ist., von dieser Seite betrachtet, ein gliickliches Land, aber-cs
lasst sich auch ein anderer Gesichtspnnkt bei der Schiitzung Englands (?(" i'*
non und unter diesein mochte docn wohl das Gluck desselben von spiin'.i'i
U ngluck bodeutend iiberwogen werden. England ist auch das Lnnd, in " ty
chcm das Elend auf die hochste Sjiitze gelriebon ist, in wolchem jiihrli'1
llunderte notorisch Hungers sterben, in welchem die Arbeiter zu KiinfWlftausenden zu arbeiten verweigem, ila sie trotz n il ihrer Miilie und Li'i**1*"
nicht so viel verdienen, dass sie nothdurftig leben kiinnen. England iM I*1*
Land, in welchem die Wolilthiitigkeit durch die Ariuensteuer zum a u s s e r l i t M tt
Gesetz gemncht werden muss to. Seht doch ihr, Nalionalokonuniun, in ,1,!"
Fabriken iiie wankenden, gebiickten und verwachsenen Gostalten, schi j 1
bleichen, abgcharnitcn, scbwimlsiichtigen Gesichtor, seht u ll das geisti?
to llie German Utopians Lhat, for ihe sake of avoiding it, they
wore ready in the last resort to pul up with complete stagnation.
The trium ph of a constitutional system, they argued, would lead
to the supremacy of the money aristocracy. Therefore let there
rather bo no constitutional system.* Germany did not avoid
capitalism. Now it is the Russian Utopians who talk about avoid
ing it. Thus do utopian ideas journey from west to east, every
where appearing as the heralds of the victory of that same capital
ism against which they are revolting and struggling. But. the
further they penetrate into the east the more their historical sig
nificance changes. The French Utopians were in their day bold
und das leibliche Elend, und ihr wollt Deutschland noch zu einem zweiten
England maclien? England konnte nur durch Ungliick und Jammer zu dem
Ilohepunkt der Industrie gelangen, auf dem es jctzt stelit, und Deutschland
konute nur durch dieselben Opfer iihnltche Rcsnltate erroichen, d.h. erreichen,
(lass die Reichen noch reicher und die Armen noch armer werden. [Our
national economists strive with all their might to lift Germany on to that
stage of industry from which England now still dominates other countries.
England is their ideal. Of course', England likes to admire herself: she has
her possessions in all parts of the world, she knows how to make her influence
count everywhere, she has the richest mercantile marine and nnvy and knows
in all trade agreements how to humbug her partner, she has the most specu
lative merchants, the most important capitalists, the most inventive heads,
the most excellent railways, the most magnificent machine equipment. Of
courpe, England when viewed from this aspect is a happy country, but
another point of view might gain the upper hand in assessing England, and
from this point of view tier happiness might nevertheless be considerably
outweighed by her unhappiness. England is also the country in which misery
lias been brought to its highest point, in which it is notorious that hundreds
die of hunger every year, in which the workmen by the fifty thousand reTu.se
to work because, in spite of all their toil and suffering, they do not earn
enough to provide themselves with a bare livelihood. England is the country
in which philanthropy through the poor rate had to be enacted by an extreme
nieiisure. Look then, national economists, at the swaying, bowed and de
formed figures in the factories, look at the pale, languid, tubercular faces, look
tl all the spiritual and bodily miseryand you still wish to make Germany
into a second England? England was only able through misfortune and
misery to reach the high point of industry at which she now stands, and only
through the same sacrifices could Germany achieve sim ilar results, i.e.,
that the rich should become still richer and the poor still poorer.] Triersvher
Xeitung, May 4, 1846, reprinted in Vol. 1 of the review edited by M. lless,
indcr the title of D er Gesellsc.hajtsspiegel. D ie gesellschaftUchen Zustande der
Civilisierten W elt (The Social M irror, Social Conditions of ihe C ivilised W orld),
Iserlohn and Elberfeld, 1846.
*
Sollte es den Constitutionellen gelingen, said Buchner, die deutschen
Negierungen zu sturzen und cine allgemeine Monarchic oder Repuhlik einfcuriihrei), so bekommen wir bier einen Geldaristokratismus, wie in Fraukrt*ich, und liebersoll es bleibon, wie es jelzt ist. ["Should the Constitution"lisls succeed, said Buchner, in overthrowing the German governments
I'd introducing a universal monarchy or republic, we should get here an
ristocracy of money as in Franco; and better it should remain as it now is. ]
(Georg H uihncr, Collected W orks, ed, Franzos, p. 122.)
34*
532
innovators of genius; the Germans proved much lower than they

and the Russians are now capable only of frightening Western
people by their antediluvian appearance.
It is interesting that even the writers of the French Enlighten
ment had the idea of avoiding capitalism. Thus, Holbach was very
upset by the fact that the trium ph of the constitutional order
in England led to the complete supremacy of Vinteret sordide des
marckands. He was very saddened by the circumstance that the
English were tirelessly looking for new marketsthis chase of
markets distracted them from philosophy. Holbach also con
demned the inequality of property existing in England. Like IIclvetius, he would have liked to prepare the way for the triumph
of reason and equality, and not of mercantile interests. But
neither Holbach nor Helvetius, nor any other of lhe writers of the
Enlightenment could put forward anything against the then course
of events except panegyrics of reason and moral instructions
addressed to the people of Albion. In this respect they were
just as impotent as our own present-day Russian Utopians.
One more remark, and we shall have finished w ith the Utopians.
The point of view of human nature brought forth in the first
half of the nineteenth century that abuse of biological analogies
which, oven up to the present day, makes itself very strongly
felt in Western sociological and particularly in Russian quasisoeiological literature.
If tho cause of all historical social progress is to be sought
in the nature of man, and if, as Saint-Simon himself justly
Temarks, society consists of individuals, then the nature of the
in div id u al has to provide the key to the explanation of history.
The nature of the individual is the subject of physiology in tho
broad sense of the word, i.e., of a science which also covers psy
chological phenomena. That is why physiology, in the eyes of
Saint-Simon and his followers, was the basis of sociology, which
they called social physics. In the Opinions philosophiques, litteraires
et induslrielles published during Saint-Simons lifetime and wit 1j
his active participation, there was printed an extremely interesting
but unfortunately unfinished article of an anonymous Doctor of
Medicine, entitled: De la physiologie appliquee a Iamelioralion des institutions sociales. The author considered the sci
ence of society to be a component part of general physiology
which, enriched by the observations and experiments of special
physiology of the individual, devotes itself to considerations of
a higher order. Individuals are for it only organs of the social
body , the functions of which it studies just as special physiology
studies the functions of individuals . General physiology studies
(the author writes: expresses) the laws of social existence, to which
the written laws should conform. Later on the bourgeois sociolo
THE D EVELOPMEN T OF T H E MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 533
gists, as for example Spencer, made use of the doctrine of the

social organism to draw the most conservative conclusions. But the
Doctor of Medicine whom we quote was first of all a reformer.
ffe studied the social body w ith the object of social reconstruc
tion, since only social physiology" and the hygiene closely bound
up with it provided the positive foundations on which it is
possible to build the system of social organisation required by the
present state of the civilised world. But evidently social physiolo
gy and hygiene did not provide much food for the reforming fantasy
of the author, because in the end he found himself obliged to turn
to the doctors, i.e., to persons dealing with individual organisms,
asking them to give to society, in the form of a hygienic prescrip
tion", a system of social organisation.
This view of social physics" was later on chewed overor,
if you prefer, developed by Auguste Comte in his various works.
Here is what he said about social science still in his youth, when
he was w riting in the Saint-Simonist Producteur: Social pheno
mena, being human phenomena, should without doubt be classed
among physiological phenomena. But although social physics
must find its point of departure in, and be in constant connection
with, individual physiology, it nevertheless should be examined
and developed as quite a separate science: for various genera
tions of men progressively influence one another. If we m aintain
the purely physiological point of view, we cannot properly study
that influence: yet its evaluation should occupy the principal
place in social physics.*
Now you can see what hopeless contradictions confront those
who regard society from this point of view.
In the first place, since social physics has individual physiol
ogy as its point of departure, it is built on a purely materialist
foundation: in physiology there is no place for an idealist view
of an object. B ut the same social physics was principally to con
cern itself with evaluating the progressive influence of one genera
tion on another. One generation influences the next, passing on
to it both the knowledge which it inherited from previous genera
tions, and the knowledge which it acquired itself. Social physics
therefore examines the development of the human species from
the poiut of view of the development of knowledge and of enlight
enment (lumieres). This is already the purely idealist point
of view of the eighteenth century: opinions govern, the world.
Having closely connected , on Comtes advice, this idealist
point of view w ith the purely materialist point of view of individ-
, * Considerations sur les sciences et les savants in

v l- I, pp. 355-56.
Le Producteur^
534
G. PLEKHAA'OV
ual physiology, we turn out to be dualists of tho purest water,

and nothing is easier than lo trace the harmful influence of this
dualism on the sociological views even of tho same Comte. Bui
this is not all. The thinkers of the eighteenth century noticed
that in the development of knowledge there is a certain conformity
to law. Comte firmly maintained such a conformity, putting
into the foreground the so-called law of three stages: theological,
metaphysical and positive.
But why does the development of knowledge pass precisely
through these stages? Such is the nature of the human mind,
replies Comte: By its nature (par sa nature), the hum an mind
passes wherever it acts through three different theoretical con
ditions.* Excellent; but to study that nature we shall have
to turn to individual physiology, and in divid ual physiology does
not give us an adequate explanation; and we have again to refer
to previous generations and the generations again send us
back to nature. This is called a science, but there is no trace
of science in it: there is only an endless movement round a vicious
circle.
Our own allegedly original, subjective sociologists fully
share the view-point of the French Utopian of the 20s.
W hile 1 was still under tho influence of N ozhin, Mr. Mikhai
lovsky tells us about himself, and partly under his guidance,
I interested myself in the question of the boundaries between
biology and sociology, and the possibility of bringing them togeth
er.... I cannot sufficiently highly assess the advantage I gained
from communion with the ideas of Nozhin: but nevertheless there
was much in them that was accidental, partly because they wen1
s till only developing in Nozhin himself, partly because of his
lim ited knowledge in the sphere of the natural sciences. 1 received
from Nozhin really only an impulse in a certain direction, hut
it was a strong, decisive and beneficent impulse. W ithout think
ing of any special study of biology, I nevertheless read a great
deal on Nozhin's suggestion and, as it were, by his testam ent.
This new trend in my reading threw an original and most absorb
ing light on that considerable though disorderly, and to some
extent simply useless material, both of facts and ideas, which
I had stored up previously.**
Nozhin has been described by Mr. M ikhailovsky in his sketche.
On This and That, under the name of Bukharlsev. Bukhartsev
"dreamed of reforming the social sciences w ith the help of natural
science, and had already worked out an extensive plan for that
purpose. The methodsjof this reforming activity can be seen from
* Ib id ., p. 304.
** Literature and Life in Russkaya My si, 1891, Vol. IV, p.
fHE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 535
the following. Bukhartsev undertakes to translate into Russian

Latin an extensive treatise on zoology, and accompanies the
translation w ith his own footnotes, in which he proposes to in
clude the results of all his independent work", while to these
footnotes he adds new footnotes of a sociological character.
Mr. M ikhailovsky obligingly acquaints the reader with one such
footnote to a footnote: Generally speaking, I cannot in my
supplements to Van der Hoeven proceed too far in theoretical
discussions and conclusions regarding the application of all
these purely anatomical questions in solving social and economic
q u e s t ions. Therefore I again only draw the attention of the reader
lo the fact thal my whole anatomical and embryological theory
has as its main object the discovery of the laws of the physiology
of society, and therefore all my later works w ill, of course, be
founded on the scientific data set forth by me in this book. *
Anatomical and embryological theory has as its m ain object
the discovery of the laws of the physiology of society ! This is
very awkwardly put, but nevertheless is very characteristic of the
utopian sociologists, lie constructs an anatomical theory, with
the help of which he intends to write out a number of hygienic
prescriptions" for the society surrounding him . It is to these
prescriptions that his social physiology is reduced. The social
physiology" of Bukhartsev is, strictly speaking, not physiology
but the hygiene w ith which we are already acquainted: not
a science of what is, but a science of what ought to be, on the
basis ... of the anatomical and embryological theory of that
same Bukhartsev.
Although Bukhartsev has been copied from Nozhin, he, never
theless, represents to a certain extent the product of the artistic
and creative work of Mr. M ikhailovsky (that is, if wre can speak of
artistic work in relation to the sketches quoted). Consequently
even his awkward footnote, perhaps, never existed in reality.
In that event it is all the more characteristic of Mr. Mikhailovsky,
who speaks of it with great respect.
I chanced nevertheless to come across the direct reflection in
literature of the ideas of my unforgettable friend and teacher,
says Tyomkin, in w'hose name the story is told. Mr. M ikhailovsky
reflected, and still reflects, the ideas of Bukhartsev-Nozhin.
Mr. M ikhailovsky has his own formula of progress. This for
mula declares: Progress is the gradual approach to the integrity
of the individ ual, to the fullest possible and most manifold d iv i
sion of labour between institutions and the least possible division
^*f labour between people. A nything retarding this movement is
immoral, unjust, harmful and unreasonable. Only that is moral,
from
* N. K. Mikhailovsky, WorA-f, Vol. IV (Second ed.), pp. 265-66.
536
G. P LEK H A N O V
just, reasonable and useful which diminishes the heterogeneity

of society, thereby increasing the heterogeneity of its individual
members.*
W hat can be the scientific significance of this formula? Does
it explain the historical progress of society? Does it tell how
that progress took place, and why it took place in one particular
way and not in another? Not in the least: and its m ain object
is not that at all. It does not speak of how history advanced, but
of how it ought to have advanced to earn the approval of Mr. Mi
khailovsky. This is a hygienic prescription invented by a Uto
pian on the basis of exact investigations of the laws of organic
development. It is just what the Saint-Simonist Doctor was look
ing for.
...We have said that the exclusive use in sociology of the
objective method would be equivalent, if it were possible, to
adding up arshins and poods**: whence, by the way, it follows,
not that the objective method must be completely eliminated
from this sphere of research, but that the supreme control must
be exercised by the subjective method. ***
This sphere of research is precisely the physiology of the
desired society, the sphere of Utopia. N aturally the use of the
subjective method in it very much facilitates the work ol the
investigator. But this use is based not at all on any laws, but
on the enchantment of charming fantasy379; whoever once has
given way to it, w ill never revolt even against the use in one and
the same sphere true, on different levels of both methods,
subjective and objective, even though such a confusion of methods
really does mean adding up arshins and poods.* * * *
* Ibid ., pp. 186-87.

** (The first is a measure of length, the second of weight: thus it
like saying that yards should be added to hundredweights.]
*** N. K. Mikhailovsky, Works, Vol. IV (Second ed.), p. 185.
**** Incidentally, these very expressionsobjective method, subjec
tive methodrepresent a vast confusion, in terminology at the very least.
Chapter
IV
IDEALIST GERMAN PHILOSOPHY

The materialists of the eighteenth century were firmly convin
ced that they had succeeded in dealing the death-blow to idealism.
They regarded it as an obsolete and completely forsaken theory.
But a reaction against materialism began already at the end of
that century, and in the first half of the nineteenth century mate
rialism itself fell into the position of a system which all consid
ered obsolete and buried, once for all. Idealism not only came
to life again, but underwent an unprecedented and truly brilliant
development. There were, of course, appropriate social reasons
for this: but we w ill not touch on them here, and w ill only con
sider whether the idealism of the nineteenth century had any
advantages over the materialism of the previous epoch and, if it
had, in what these advantages consisted.
French materialism displayed an astonishing and today scarcely
credible feebleness every time it came upon questions of evolution
in nature or in history. Let us take, for example, the origin oj man.
Although the idea of the gradual evolution of this species did
not seem contradictory to the materialists, nevertheless they
thought such a guess to be most improbable. The authors of
the Sysleme de la Nature (see Part I, ch. 6 ) say that if anyone
were to revolt against such a piece of conjecture, if anyone were
to object that Nature acts w ith the help of a certain sum of general
and invariable laws, and added in doing so that m an, the quad
ruped, the fish, the insect, the plant, etc., exist from the begin
ning of time and remain eternally unaltered they would not
object to this. They would only remark that such a view also does
not contradict the truths they set forth. Man cannot possibly
know everything: he cannot know his origin that is all that
in the end the authors of the Systeme de la Nature say about this
important question.
Ilelvetius seems to be more inclined to the idea of the gradual
S o lu tio n of man. Matter is eternal, but its forms are variable,-
538
G. PLEK H A N O V
lie remarks, recalling that even now hum an natures change under
the influence of clim ate.* He even considered that generally
speaking all anim al species were variable. But this sound ii|eH
was formulated by him very strangely. It followed, in his view,
that the causes of dissim ilarity" between the different species
of animals and vegetables lie either 111 the qualities of their very
embryos, or in the differences of their environment, the d i f f e r
ences of their upbringing.**
Thus heredity excludes mutability, and vice versa. If we adopt
the theory of m utab ility , wo must as a consequence presuppose
that from any given embryo there can arise, in appropriate
circumstances, any anim al or vegetable: from the embryo of an
oak, for example, a bull or a giraffe. N aturally such a conjecture"
could not throw any light on the question of the origin of species,
and Helvetius himself, having once made it in passing, never
returned to it again.
Just as badly were the French materialists able to explain
phenomena of social evolution. The various systems of legislation
were represented by them solely as the product of the conscious
creative activity of legislators; the various religious systems
as the product of the cunning of priests, etc.
This impotence of French materialism in face of questions
of evolution in nature and in history made its philosophical
content very poor. In its view of nature, that content was reduced
to combating the one-sided conception of matter held by tho
dualists. In its view of man it was confined to an endless repeti
tion of, and some variations upon, Locke's principle that there
are no innate ideas. However valuable such repetition was in com
bating out-of-date moral and political theories, it could not have
serious scientific value unless the materialists had succeeded in
applying their conception to the explanation of the spiritual
evolution of mankind. We have already said earlier that some
very remarkable attempts were made in this direction by l!>
French materialists (i.e., to be precise, by Helvetius), but that they
ended in failure (and if they had succeeded, French m a te ria lism
would have proved very strong in questions of evolution). The
materialists, in their view of history, took up a purely ideal
istic standpoint that opinions govern the world. O nly at time?,
only very rarely, did materialism break into their historical
reflections, in the shape of remarks that some stray atom, find in?
its way into the head of the legislator and causing in it a dislurbance of the functions of the brain, might alter the course 01
* Le vral sens du si/steme de la nature, London, 1774, p. 15.
.
** Do l'homnie, (Euvres completes de HelvUlus, Paris, 1818, Vol. **
p. 120.
I I I E DEVELOPMENT C)F THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 539
history for entire ages. Such materialism was essentially fatalism,

anti left no room for the foreseeing of events, i.e., for the conscious
historical activity of thinking individuals.
[t is not surprising, therefore, that to capable and talented
people who had not been drawn into the struggle of social forces
jn which materialism had been a terrible theoretical weapon
of the extreme Left party this doctrine seemed dry, gloomy, melan
choly. That was, for example, how Goethe spoke of i t . 880 In order
that this reproach should cease to be deserved, materialism had
to leave its dry and abstract mode of thought,, and attempt to
understand and explain real life the complex and variegated
chain of concrete phenomena from its own point of view. But
in its then form it was incapable of solving that great problem,
and the latter was taken possession of
by
idealist p h i
losophy.
The main and final link in the development of that philosophy
was the system of Ilegel: therefore we shall refer principally to
that system in our exposition.
Jlegel called metaphysical the point of view of those thinkers
irrespective of whether they were idealists or materialistswho,
failing to understand the development of phenomena, willy-nilly
represent them to themselves and others as petrified, disconnected,
incapable of passing one into another. To this point of view
he opposed dialectics, which studies phenomena precisely in
their development and, consequently, iri their interconnection.
According to Hegel, dialectics is the principle of a ll life. Fre
quently one meets people who, having expressed some abstract
proposition, w illingly recognise that perhaps they are mistaken,
and that perhaps the exactly opposite point of view is correct.
These are well*bred people, saturated to their linger tips with
" tolerance : live and let live, they say to their intellect. Dialectics
has nothing in common with the sceptical tolerance of men of the
"o rld, but it, too, knows how to reconcile directly opposite
abstract propositions. Man is mortal, we say, regarding death
as something rooted in external circumstances and quite alien
o the nature of living man. It follows that a man has two quali
ties: first of being alive, and secondly of also being mortal. But
upon closer investigation it turns out that life itself bears in itself
the germ of death, and that in general any phenomenon is contra
dictory, in the sense that it develops out of itself the elements
which, sooner or later, will put an end lo its existence and will
transform it into its own opposite. Everything flows, everything
changes; and there is no force capable of holding back this con
stant flux, or arresting this eternal movement. There is no force
Cf|p<ible of resisting the dialectics of phenomena. Goethe personi
fies dialectics in the shape of a spirit381:
540
I n Lebensfluthen, im Tkatenslurm,
W all'ich auf und ab,
Webe hin und her!
Geburt und Grab,
E in ewiges Meer,
E in wechselnd Weben,
E in gluhend Leben,
So schaff'ich am sausenden Webstuhl der Zeit
Und wirke der Gottheit lebendiges Kleid.*
At a particular moment a moving body is at a particular spot,
but at the same time it is outside it as well because, if it were
only in that spot, it would, at least for that moment, become
motionless. Every motion is a dialectical process, a living contra
diction, and as there is not a single phenomenon of nature iu
explaining which we do not have in the long run to appeal to
motion, we have to agree with Hegel, who said that dialectics is
the soul of any scientific cognition. And this applies not only to
cognition of nature. W hat for example is the meaning of the old
saw: summum jus, summa in ju ria ? Does it mean that we act most
justly when, having paid our tribute to law, we at the same time
give its due to lawlessness? No, that is the interpretation only of
surface thinking, the m ind of fools. The saw means that
every abstract justice, carried to its logical conclusion, is trans
formed into injustice, i.e., into its own opposite. Shakespeare's
Merchant of Venice serves as a b rilliant illustration of this. Take
a look at economic phenomena. W hat is the logical conclusion of
free competition? Every capitalist strives to beat his competitors
and to remain sole master of the market. And, of course, cases
are frequent when some Rothschild or Vanderbilt succeeds in
happily fulfilling this ambition. But this shows that free
competition leads tomonopoly, that
is to the
n e g a tio n
of competition, i.e.,
to its own opposite. Or look at
the conclusion to which
the so-called labour principle of
property, extolled by our Narodnik literature, leads. O nly that be
longs to me which has been created by my labour. Nothing can be
more just than that.
And it is no less just that I use the
* I n the tides of Life, in Actions storm,
A fluctuant wave,
A shuttle free,
Birth and the Grave,
A n eternal sea,
A weaving, flowing,
Life, all-glowing,
Thus at Time's humming loom tis my hand prepares
The garment of Life which the Deity wears!
(Faust, Part I, Scene I [Bayard Taylors translation].)
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE M O M ST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 541
thing I have created at my own free discretion: 1 use it myself or

j exchange it for something else, which for some reason I need
IIl0 rc. It is equally just, then, that I make use of the thing I have
secured by exchangeagain at my free discretion as I find best
and most pleasant and advantageous. Let us now suppose that I have
sold the product of my own labour for money, and have used the
money to hire a labourer, i.e., 1 have bought somebody elses
labour-power. Having taken advantage of this labour-power of
another, I turn out to be the owner of value which is considerably
higher than the value I spent on its purchase. This, on the one
band, is very just, because it has already been recognised, after
all, that I can use what 1 have secured by exchange as is best and
niost advantageous for myself: and. on the other hand, it is very
un just, because I am exploiting the labour of another and thereby
negating the principle which lay at the foundation of my con
ception of justice. The property acquired by my personal labour
boars me the property created by the labour of another. Summum
jus, summa injuria. And such injuria springs up by tho very
nature of things in the economy of almost any well-to-do handi
craftsman, almost every prosperous peasant.*
And so every phenomenon, by the action of those same forces which
condition its existence, sooner or later, but inevitably, is trans
formed into its own opposite.
We have said that the idealist German philosophy regarded
all phenomena from the point of view of their evolution, and that
this is what is meant by regarding them dialectically. ft must be
remarked that the metaphysicians know how to distort the very
doctrine of evolution itself. They affirm that neither in nature
nor in history are there any leaps. When they speak of the origin
of some phenomenon or social institution, they represent matters
as though this phenomenon or institution was once upon a time
very tiny, quite unnoticeable, and then gradually grew up. When
it is a question of destroying this or that phenomenon and insti
tution, they presuppose, on the contrary, its gradual dim inution,
continuing up to the point when the phenomenon becomes quite
*
Mr. Mikhailovsky thinks this eternal and ubiquitous supremacy of
dialectics incomprehensible: everything changes except the laws of dialeciical
motion, he says with sarcastic scepticism. Yes, thats just it, we reply:
*nd if it surprises you, if you wish to contest this view, remember that you
will have to contest the fundamental standpoint of modern scicnce. In order
to bo convinced of this, it is sufficient for you to recall those words of Playjair which Lyell took as an epigraph to his famous work Principles of Geology.
Amid the revolutions of the globe, the economy of Nature has been uniform,
and her laws are the only things that have resisted the general movement.
iê rivers and the rocks, the seas and the continents have been changed in
their parts; but the laws which direct these changes, and the rules to which
tey are subject, have remained invariably the same.
542
G. P LEK HA N O V
unnoticeable on account of its microscopic dimensions. Evolution

conceived of in this way explains absolutely nothing; it presup
poses the existence of the phenomena which it has to explain, and
reckons only w ith the quantitative changes which take place in
them. The supremacy of metaphysical thought was once so power
ful in natural science that m any naturalists could not imagine
evolution otherwise than just in the form of such a gradual increase
or d im inution of the magnitude of the phenomenon being investi
gated. Although from the time of Harvey it was already recognised
that everything living develops out of the egg", no exact conception
was linked, evidently, w ith such development from the egg, and
the discovery of spermatozoa immediately provided the basis
for the appearance of a theory according to which in the seminal
cell there already existed a ready-made, completely developed
but microscopical little anim al, so that all its development"
amounted to growth. Some wise sages, including many famous
European evolutionary sociologists, still regard the evolution,
say, of political institutions, precisely in this way: history makes
no leaps: va piano (go softly)....
German idealist philosophy decisively revolted against such
a misshapen conception of evolution. Hegel b itin gly ridiculed
it. and demonstrated irrefutably that both in nature and in
human society leaps constituted just as essential a stage of evolu
tion as gradual quantitative changes. Changes in being," he
says, consist not only in the fact that one quantity passes into
another quantity, but also that quality passes into quantity,
and vice versa. Each transition of the latter kind represents an
interruption in gradualness (ein Abbrechen des Allmahlichen),
and gives the phenomenon a new aspect, qualitatively distinct
from the previous one. Thus, water when it is cooled grows hard,
not gradually... but. all at once; having already been cooled to
freezing-point, it can still remain a liq u id only if it preserves n
state of rest, and then the slightest impulse is sufficient for
it suddenly to become hard.... In the world of moral phenomena ...
there take place the same changes of quantitative into qualitative,
and differences in qualities there also are founded upon quantita
tive differences. Thus, a little less, a little more constitutes that
lim it beyond which frivolity ceases and there appears something
quite different, crime__ Thus also, statesother conditions
being e qualacquire a different qualitative character merely in
consequence of differences in their size. Particular laws and a par
ticular constitution acquire quite a different significance with
the extension of the territory of a state and of the numbers of its
citizens."*
*
Wissenschaft der Logik (First ed.), Part I, Book 1, pp. 313-14.[St>C*'0<l
('d., Leipzig, 1032, Part 1, Book I, pp. 383-84,]
Modern naturalists know very well how frequently changes of

quantity lead to changes of quality . W hy does one part of the
solar spectrum produce in us the sensation of a red colour, another,
of green, etc.? Physics replies that everything is due here to tho
number of oscillations of the particles of the ether. 1 1 is known
that, this number changes for every colour of the spectrum, rising
from red to violet. Nor is this all. The intensity of heat in the
spectrum increases in proportion to the approach to the external
border of the red band, and reaches its highest point a little
distance from it, on leaving the spe ctru m .lt follows that in the
spectrum there are rays of a special kind which do not give light
but only heal. Physics says, here too, that the qualities of the
rays change in consequence of changes in the number of oscilla
tions of the particles of the ether.
But even this is not all. The suns rays have a certain chemical
effect, as is shown for example by tho fading of material in the
sun. W hat distinguishes the violet and the so-called ultra-violet
rays, which arouse in us no sensalion of light, is their greatest
chemical strength. The difference in the chemical action of the
various rays is explained once again only by quantitative differ
ences in the oscillations of the particles of the ether: quantity
passes into quality.
Chemistry confirms the same thing. Ozone lias different q u a li
ties from ordinary oxygen. Whence conies this difference? In the
molecule of ozone there is a different number of atoms from that
contained in the molecule of ordinary oxygen. Let us take three
hydrocarbon compounds: CI1 4 (marsh gas), C 2 I I 8 (dimethyl) and
C 3H 8 (methyl-ethyl). All of these are composed according to the
formula: n atoms of carbon and 2 n + 2 atoms of hydrogen. If n is
equal to 1 , you get marsh gas; if n is equal to 2 , you get dim ethyl;
if n is equal to 3, methyl-ethyl appears. In this way entire series
arc formed, the importance of which any chemist w ill tell you;
nnd all these series unanim ously confirm the principle of the old
dialectical idealists that quantity passes into quality.
Now we have learned the principal distinguishing features of
dialectical thought, but the reader feels himself unsatisfied. But
where is the famous triad, he asks, the triad which is, as is well
known, the whole essence of Hegelian dialectics? Your pardon,
reader, we do not mention tho triad for the simple reason thal it
dues not at all play in Hegel's work the part which is attributed to it
by people who have not the least idea of the philosophy of that
thinker, and who have studied it, for example, from the text
book of crim inal law of Mr. Spasovich.* Filled w ith sacred
*
"Aspiring to a barrister's career, Mr. Mikhailovsky tells ns, 1 pas
sionately, though unsystematically, road various legal works. Among them
'vas tho text-liook of criminal law by Mr. Spasovich. This work contains
544
G. P LEK HA NO V
sim plicity , these light-hearted people are convinced that tin,

whole argumentation of the German idealist was reduced to ref
erences to the triad; that whatever theoretical difficulties the
old man came up against, he left others to rack their poor unen
lightened" brains over them while he, w ith a tranquil smile, imme
diately b u ilt up a syllogism: all phenomena occur according to
a triad, I am faced w ith a phenomenon, consequently I shall turn
to the triad .* This is sim ply lunatic nonsense, as one of the
characters of Karonin puts it, or unnaturally idle talk, if you
prefer the expression of Shchedrin. Not once in the eighteen vol
umes of Hegelslworks does the triad! play the part of an argument,
and anyone in tho least fam iliar w ith his philosophical doctrine
understands that it could not play such a part. W ith Hegel the triad
has tho same significance as it had previously w ith Fichte, whoso
philosophy is essentially different from the Hegelian. Obviously
only gross ignorance can consider the principal distinguishing
feature of one philosophical system to be that which applies to
at least two quite different systems.
We are sorry that the triad has diverted us from our exposi
tion: but, having mentioned it, we should reach a conclusion.
So let us examine what kind of a bird it is.
Every phenomenon, developing to its conclusion, becomes
transformed into its opposito; but as the new phenomenon, being
opposite to the first, also is transformed in its turn into its own
opposite, tho third phase of development bears a formal resem
blance to the first. For the time being, let us leave aside the question
a brief survey of various philosophical systems in their relation to criminol
ogy, t was particularly struck by tho famous triad of Hegel, in virtue of
which punishment so gracefully becomes the reconciliation of the contra
diction between law and crime. The seductive character of the tripartito
formula of Hegel in its most varied applications is well known.... And it ia
not surprising that I was fascinated by it in tho text-book of Mr. Spasovich^
Nor is it surprising that thereupon it drew me to Hegel and to much else...,
(Russkaya Mysl, 1891, Vol. I l l , Part II, p. 188.) A pity, a great pity,
that Mr. Mikhailovsky does not tell us how far he satisfied his yearning w
Hegel . To jail appearances, he did not go very far in this direction.
*
Mr. Mikhailovsky assures us that the late N. Sieber, when arguini!
with him about tho inevitability of capitalism in Russia, used all possible
arguments, but at the least danger hid behind the authority of the imraulublu
and unquestionable tripartite dialectical development (Russkay&
1892, Vol. V I, Part II, p. 196). Ho assures us also that all of what lie calls
Marxs prophecies about the outcome of capitalist development repose only
on the triad. We shall discuss Marx later, but of N. Sieber wo may retnarK
that we had more than once to converse with the deceased, and not onco ('*
we hear from him references to dialectical development. He himself
more than once that he was quite ignorant of the significance of Ilegel
the development of modern economics. Of course, everything can >
blamed on the dead, and therefore Mr. Mikhailovskys evidence l*
irrefutable.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THF. MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 545
f the extent to which such a course of development corresponds

l'0 re a lity : let us a d m it for the sake of argument that those were
-rung who thought that it does so correspond completely. Hut

j n .my case it is clear that the triad only follows from one of
Hegel's principles: it does not in the least serve him as a main
principle itself. This is a very essential difference, because if the
triad had figured as a main principle, the people who attribute
such an im portant part to it could really seek protection under
its authority , but as it plays 110 such part, the only people
who can hide behind it are maybe those who, as the saying lias
it, have heard a bell, but where they cannot tell.
N aturally the situation would not change one iota if. w ithout
hiding behind the triad , dialecticians at the least danger
sought protection behind the authority of the principle that
every phenomenon is transformed into its own opposite. Hut
they never behaved in that way either, and they did not do so
because the principle mentioned does not at all exhaust their
views 011 the evolution of phenomena. They say in add ition, for
example, that in the process of evolution quan tity passes into
quality, and quality into quantity. Consequently they have to
reckon both with the qualitative and the quantitative sides of the
process; and this presupposes an attentive attitude to its real
course in actual fact; and this means in its turn that they do not
content themselves with abstract conclusions from abstract p rin
ciples or, at any rate, must not he satisfied w ith such conclusions,
if they wish to remain true to their outlook upon the world.
On every page of his works Hegel constantly and tirelessly p o in t
ed out that philosophy is identical with the totality of empirics,
that philosophy requires nothing so insistently as going deeply
into the empirical sciences__ Material facts w ithout thought
have only a relative importance, thought w ithout material facts
is a mere chimera__ Philosophy is that consciousness at which the
empirical sciences arrive relative to themselves. It cannot be
anything else.
That is the view of the task of the thinking investigator which
Lassalle drew from the doctrine of Hegelian philosophy*: philos
ophers must be specialists in those sciences which they wish
to help to reach self-consciousness . It seems a very far cry from
the special study of a subject to thoughtless chatter in honour
of the triad . And let them not tell us that Lassalle was not
a real Hegelian, that he belonged to the Left and sharply
reproached the R ight w ith merely engaging in abstract con
structions of thought. The man tells you plainly that he borrowed
his view directly from Hegel.
*
See his System der erworbenen Jiechte (Seconded.), Leipzig, 1880, Prefaco, pp. x ii-x iii.
3 a 01329
546
G. P LE K H A N O V
But perhaps you w ill want to rule out the evidt'nce of ih

author of the System of Acquired Rights, just as in court the ov-'
dence of relatives is ruled out. We shall not argue and contradictwe shall call as a witness a quite extraneous person, the author
of the Sketches of the Gogol Period. We ask for attention: u,&
witness w ill speak long and, as usual, wisely.
We follow Hegel as little as we follow Descartes or Aristotle
Hegel now belongs to past history; the present has its own philol
ophy and clearly sees the flaws in the Hegelian system. It must
be adm itted, however, that the principles advanced by Hegol
were indeed very near to the truth, and this thinker brought out
some aspects of the truth w ith tru ly astonishing power. Of those
truths, the discovery of some stands to Hegels personal credit;
others do not belong exclusively to his system, they belong to
German philosophy as a whole from the time of K a n t and Fichte;
but nobody before Hegel had formulated them so clearly and had
expressed them w ith such power as they were in his system.
First of a ll we shall point to the most fruitful principle*
underlying all progress w'liich so sharply and b rillia n tly distin
guishes German philosophy in general, and the Hegelian system
in particular, from the hypocritical and craven views that predom
inated at that time (the beginning of the nineteenth century)
among the French and the English: Truth is the supreme goal
of thought; seek truth, for in truth lies good; whatever truth may
be, it is bettor than falsehood; the first duty of the thinker is not
to retreat from any results; he must be prepared to sacrifice his
most cherished opinions to truth. Error is the source of all ruin;,
truth is the supreme good and the source of all other good. To be
able to appraise the extreme importance of this demand, common
to German philosophy as a whole since the tim e of Kant., but
expressed w ith exceptional vigour by Hegel, one must remember
what strange and narrow restrictions the thinkers of the other
schools of that period imposed upon truth. They began to philos
ophise, only in order to justify their cherished convictions',
i.e., they sought not tru th , but support for their prejudices. Each
took from truth only what pleased him and rejected every truth
that was unpleasant to him , b lu n tly a dm ittin g that a pleasing
error suited him much better than im partial truth. The German
philosophers (especially Hegel) called this practice of seeking
not tru th but confirmation of pleasing prejudices subjective
th in k in g (Saints above! Is this, perhaps, why our subjective
thinkers called Hegel a scholastic?Author), philosophising for
personal pleasure, and not for the vital need of truth. Ilegel
fiercely denounced the idle and pernicious pastime. (Listen
well!) As a necessary precaution against inclinations to digress
from tru th in order to pander to personal desires and prejudices*
the
Hegel advanced his celebrated dialectical method of th in k in g .

The essence of this method lies in that the thinker must not rest
content w ith any positive deduction, bul must find out whether
Ihe object he is thinking about contains qualities and forces the
opposite of those which the object had presented to him at first
sight. Thus, the thinker was obliged to examine the object from
flH sides, and truth appeared to him only as a consequence of
a conflict between all possible opposite opinions. G radually, as
a result of this method, the former one-sided conceptions of an
object were supplanted by a full and all-sided investigation, and
ii living conception was obtained of all the real qualities of an ob
ject. To explain reality became the paramount duty of philosoph
ical thought. As a result, extraordinary attention was paid
lo reality, which had been formerly ignored and unceremoniously
distorted in order to pander to personal, one-sided prejudices.
(De te fabula narratur!) Thus, conscientious, tireless search for
truth took the place of the former arbitrary interpretations. In
reality, however, everything depends upon circumstances, upon
the conditions of place and tim e, and therefore, Hegel found that
the former general phrases by which good and evil were judged
without an examination of the circumstances and causes that
give rise to a given phenomenon, that these general, abstract
aphorisms were unsatisfactory. Every object, every phenomenon
has its own significance, and it must be judged according to the
circumstances, the environment, in which it exists. This rule
was expressed by the formula: There is no abstract truth; truth
is concrete', i.e., a definite judgement can be pronounced only
about a definite fact, after exam ining all the circumstances on
which it depends.*
*
Chernyshevsky, Sketches of the Gogol Period in Huxsfan Literature,
St. Petersburg, 1892, pp. 258-59. In a special footnote the author of the
Sketches magnificently demonstrates what is the precise meaning of this
examination of all the circumstances on which the particular phenomenon
depends. W r shall quote this footnote too. For example: Is rain good or bad?
This is an abstract question; a definite answer cannot be given In it. Some
times rain is beneficial, sometimes, although more rarely, it is harmful.
One must inquire specifically: 'After the grain was sown it mined heavily
for live hourswas the rain useful for the crop?only here is the answer:
that rain was very useful clear and sensible. Hut in that very same summer,
just when harvest time Brrived, it rained in torrents for u whole weekwas
that good for the crop? The answer: 'No. That rain was harmful, is equally
clear and correct. That is how all questions are decided by Hegelian rmilosophy. I s war disastrous or beneficial?' This cannot be answered definitely
in general; one must know' what kind of war is meant, everything depends
upon circumstances, time and place. For savage peoples, the harmfulness
* vvar is less palpable, the benefits of it are more tangible. For civilised
peoples, war usually does more harm than good. Rut the war of 1812, for
trample, was a war of salvation for the Russian people. The Rattlo of
Marathon82 was a most beneficial event in the history of mankind. Such
35*
548
G. 1 LKKIIANOV
And so, on the one hand, we are told lhat the distinguishir ,
feature of Hegel's philosophy was its most careful in v e s tig a te
of reality, the most conscientious attitude to any particulj'
subject, the study of tho latter in its liv in g environment, Wj,|r
a ll those circumstances of time and place which condition r
accompany its existence. The evidence of N. G. Chernyshevsky
is identical in this case w ith the evidence of F. Lassalle, A nil
on the other hand we are assured that this philosophy was empty
scholasticism, the whole secret of which consisted in the sophistical
use of the triad. In this case the evidence of Mr. Mikhailovsky
is in complete agreement w ith the evidence of Mr. V. V., and
of a whole legion of other modern Russian writers. How is tlii.s
divergence of witnesses to be explained? Explain it any way you
please: but remember that Lassalle and the author of the Sketches
of the Gogol Period did know the philosophy they were talking
about, while Messrs. M ikhailovsky, V. V ., and their brethren
have quite certainly not given themselves tho trouble of studying
even a single work of Hegel.
And notice that in characterising dialectical thought tin*
author of the Sketches did not say one word about the triad.
How is it that he did not notice that same elephant, which
Mr. M ikhailovsky and company so stubbornly and so ceremonious
ly bring out on view to every loafer? Once again please remember
that the author of the Sketches of the Gogol Period knew the philos
ophy of Hegel, while Mr. M ikhailovsky and Co. have not tho
least conception of it.
Perhaps the reader may be pleased to recall cortain other judge
ments on Hegel passed by the author of the Sketches of Hte
Gogol Period. Perhaps he w ill point out to us the famous articlo:
^Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices Against Communal Owner
ship of Land"? This article does speak about the triad and, to all
appearances, the latter is put forward as the m ain hobby-horse
of the German idealist. Bat it is only in appearance. Discussing
the history of property, the writer asserts that in the third and
highest phase of its development it w ill return to its point of
departure, i.e., that private property in the land and the means
of production w ill yield place to social property. Such a return,
he says, is a general law which manifests itself in every process
of development. The authors argument is in this case, in fact,
nothing else than a reference to the triad. And in this lies its
is the meaning of the axiom: There is no abstract truth; truth is concrete
a conception of an object is concrete when it presents itself with all th0
qualities and specific features and in the circumstances, environment, if}
which the object exists, and not, abstracted from these circumstances ami
its livin g sjpecitic features (as it is presented by abstract thinking, tho judge*
ment of which has, therefore, no meaning for real life).38
t h e d e v e lo p m e n t o f t h k m o n is t v i e w o r h i s t o r y 549
eSSt>I,tial defect. J t is abstract: the development of property is
examined w ithout relating it to concrete historical conditions
and therefore the atithors arguments are ingenious, b rillia n t, hut
not convincing. They only astound, surprise, but do not convince.
Put is Ilegel responsible for this defect in the argument of the
iHilhor of Ihe Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices? Do you
really think his argument would have been abstract had he consid
ered the subject just in the way in which, according to his own
words, Ilegel advised all subjects to be considered, i.e.. keeping
to the ground of reality, weighing all concrete conditions, all
circumstances of time and place? It would seem that t hat would not
be the case; it would seem that then there would not have been
just that defect we have mentioned in the article. But w hat, in that
event, gave rise to the defect? The fact thal the author of the
article Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices Against Communal
Ownership of Land , in controverting the abstract arguments
of his opponents, forgot the good advice of Ilegel, and proved
unfaithful to the methcd of lhat very thinker to whom he referred.
We are sorry that in his polemical excitement he made
such a mistake. B ut, once again, is Hegel lo blame because in this
particular case the author of Criticism of Philosophical Preju
dices proved unable to make use of his method? Since when is it
that philosophical systems are judged, not by their internal
content, but by the mistakes which people referring to them may
happen to make?
And once again, however insistently the author of the article I
have mentioned refers to the Ilia d , even there he does not put it
forward as the main hobby-horse of the dialectical method. Even
there he makes it, not the foundation but, at most, an unquestion
able consequence. Ih e foundation and the m ain distinguishing
feature of dialectics is brought out by him in the following words:
Eternal change of forms, eternal rejection of a form brought into
being by a particular content or striving, in consequence of an inten
sification of that striving, the higher develojinent of that same con
tent. .. whoover has understood this great, eternal, ubiquitous
low, whoever has learnt how to apply it to every phenomenon
flli, how calmly he calls into play the chance which affrights oth
ers. etc .384
Eternal change of foims, eternal rejection of a foim brought
nto being by a particular contcnt ... dialectical thinkers really
do look on such a change, such a rejection of foims as a great,
eternal, ubiquitous law. At the present time this conviction is not
shared only by the representatives of some branches of social
science who have not the courage to look truth straight in the
yps, and attempt to defend, albeit w ith the help of error, tho
Prejudices they hold dear. A ll the more highly must we value
550
G. P LEK HA N O V
the services of the great German idealists who, from the very
beginning of the present century, constantly spoke of the eternal
change of forms, of their eternal rejection in consequence of the
intensification of the content which brought those forms into
being.
Earlier we left unexamined /or the time being" the question
of whether it is a fact that every phenomenon is transformed, as
the Gorman dialectical idealists thought, into its own opposite.
Now, we hope, the reader w ill agree w ith us that, strictly speak
ing, this question need not be examined at all. When you a p p ly
the dialectical method to the study of phenomena, you need to
remember that forms change eternally in consequence of the higher
development of their content". You w ill have to trace this process
of rejection of forms in all its fullness, if you wish to exhaust
the subject. But whether the new form is the opposite of the old
you w ill find from experience, and it is not at a ll im portant to
know this beforehand. True, it is just on the basis of the historical
experience of m ankind that every lawyer knowing his business
w ill tell you that every legal in stitu tio n sooner or later is trans
formed into its own opposito. Today it promotes the satisfaction
of certain social needs; today it is valuable and necessary precise
ly in view of these needs. Then it begins to satisfy those needs
worse and worse. F inally it is transformed into an obstacle to their
satisfaction. From something necessary it becomes something
harm fuland then it is destroyed. Take whatever you like
tho history of literature or the history of specieswherever there
is development, you w ill see sim ilar dialectics. But nevertheless,
if someone wanted to penetrate the essence of the dialectical
process and were to begin, of a ll things, w ith testing the idea of the
oppositeness of the phenomena which constitute a series in each
particular process of development, he would be approaching the
problem from the wrong end.
In selecting the view point for such a test, there would always
turn out to be very much that was arbitrary. The question must
be regarded from its objective side, or in other words one must
make clear to oneself what is the inevitable change of forms in
volved in the development of the particular content? This is the
same idea, only expressed in other words. But in testing it in
practice there is no place for arbitrary choice, because the point
of view of the investigator is determined by the very character of the
forms and content themselves.
In the words of Engels, Hegels merit consists in the fact that
he was the first to rogard a ll phenomena from the point of vie'v
of their development, from the point of view of their origin and
destruction. Whether he was the first to do it is d e b atable ,
says Mr. M ikhailovsky, b u t at all events he was not the last*
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O RY 551
and the present-day theories of development the evolutionism

0f Spencer, Darwinism, the ideas of development in psychology,
physics, geology, etc. have nothing in common with Hegelian
ism.*
1 f modern natural science confirms at every step the idea expressed
with such genius by Hegel, that qu an tity passes into q u a lity ,
can we say that it had nothing in common with Hegelianism?
True, Hegel was not the "last" of those who spoke of such a transi
tion. but this was just for the very same reason that Darwin was
tiot the last of those who spoke of the v a riab ility of species
and Newton was not the last of the Newtonists. W h at would
you have? Such is the course of development of the human in te l
lect! Express a correct idea, and you w ill certainly not be the last
of those who defend it; ta lk some nonsense, and although people
have a great failin g for it, you still risk finding yourself to be its
last defender and champion. Thus, in our modest opinion, Mr.
Mikhailovsky runs a considerable risk of proving to be the
last supporter of the subjective method in sociology . Speaking
frankly, we see no reason to regret such a course of development
of the intellect.
We suggest that Mr. M ikhailo vsky who finds debatable
everything in the world, and much elseshould refute our follow
ing proposition: that wherever the idea of evolution appears
in psychology, physics, geology, etc. it always has very much
in common w ith Hegelianism , i.e., in every up-to-date study
of evolution there are invariably repeated some of the general
propositions of Hegel. We say some, and not a ll, because many
modern evolutionists, lacking the adequate philosophical educa
tion, understand evolution abstractly and one-sidedly. An example
are the gentry, already mentioned earlier, who assure us that
neither nature nor history makes any leaps. Such people would
gain a very great deal from acquaintance w ith Hegels logic.
Let Mr. M ikhailovsky refute us: but only let him not forget that
we cannot be refuted by knowing Hegel only from the text-book
of crim inal law by Mr. Spasovich and from Lewes Biographical
History of Philosophy. He must take the trouble to study Hegel
himself.
In saying that the present-day teachings of the evolutionists
always have very much in common w ith Hegelianism , we are
uot asserting that the present evolutionists have borrowed their
views from Hegel. Quite the reverse. Very often they have just
as mistaken a view of him as Mr. M ikhailovsky has. And if never
theless their theories, even partially and just at those points
"here they turn out to be correct, become a new illustration of
* Russkoye Bogatstvo, 1894, Vol
II, part II, p. 150.
552
G. P LE K H A N O V
Hegelianism , this circumstance only brings out in higher relief

the astonishing power of thought of the German idealist: people
who never read him , by the sheer force of facts and the evident
sense of reality , are obliged to speak as he spoke. One could
not thin k of a greater trium ph for a philosopher: readers ignore
him , but life confirms his views.
Up to this day it is still difficult to say to what extent the views
of the German idealists directly influenced German natural
science in the direction mentioned, although it is unquestionable
that in the first half of the present century even the naturalists
in Germany studied philosophy during their university course,
and although such men learned in the biological sciences as
Haeckel speak w ith respect nowadays of the evolutionary theories
of some nalure-philosophers. But the philosophy of nature wits Dm;
weak point of German idealism. Its strength lay in its theories
dealing with the various sides of historical development. As for
those theories, let Mr. M ikhailovsky remember if he ever
knew that it was just from the school of Hegel that there emerged
all that b rillia n t constellation of thinkers and investigators who
gave quite a new aspect lo the study of religion, aesthetics, law,
political economy, history, philosophy and so forth. In all these
disciplines, during a certain most fruitful period, there was not
a single outstanding worker who was not indebted to Hegel fur
his development and for his fresh views on his own branch of
knowledge. Does Mr. M ikhailovsky think that this, too, is debat
able? If he does, let him just try.
Speaking of Ilegel, Mr. M ikhailovsky tries to do it in surh
a way as to be understood by people un initiate d in the mysteries
of the philosophical nightcap of Yegor Fyodorovich as Beliuskv
disrespectfully put it when he raised the banner of revolt against
Hegel.3SS He takes for this purpose two examples from Engels
book Anti-Duhring (but why not from Hegel himself? That would
be much more becoming to a writer initiated into the mysteries",
etc.).
A grain of oats falls in favourable conditions: it strikes rof
and thereby, as such, as a grain, is negated. Fn its place there arise;*
a stalk, which is the negation of the grain; the plant develops ami
hears fruit, i.e., new grains of oats, and when these grains ripen,
the stalk perishes: it was the negation of the grain, and now it if*
negated itself. And thereafter the same process of negation and
negation of negation is repeated an endless number (sic!)
times. At the basis of this process lies contradiction: the grain if
oats is a grain and at the same time not a grain, as it is always
in a state of actual or potential development. Mr. Mikhailovsky
naturally finds this debatable. And this is how this attractive
possibility passes w ith him into reality.
t iie
development
of t h e
MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 55*
The first stage, the stage of the grain, is the thesis, or propo
sition; the second, up to the formation of new grains, is the anti
thesis, or contradiction; the third is the synthesis or reconcilia
tion (Mr. M ikhailovsky has decided to write in a popular style,
and therefore leaves no Greek words without explanation or trans
lation) and all together they constitute a triad or trichotomy.
And such is the fate of all that is alive: it arises, it develops and
provides the origin of its repetition, after which it dies. A vast
number of individual expressions of this process immediately
rise up in the memory of the reader, of course, and Ifegels law
proves justified in Ihe whole organic world (for the present we go
no further). If however we regard our example a little more closelyr
we shall see the extreme superficiality and arbitrariness of our
generalisation. We took a grain, a stalk and once more a grain
or, more exactly, a group of grains. Hut before bearing fruit,
a plant flowers. When we speak of oats or some other grain of
economic importance, we can have in view a grain that has been
sown, the straw and a grain thal has been harvested: but to con
sider that the life of the plant has been exhausted by these throe
stages is quite unfounded. In the life of a plant the point of flower
ing is accompanied by an extreme and peculiar straining of forces,
and as the flower does not arise direct from the grain, we arrive,
even keeping to Hegels terminology, not at a trichotomy but at
least at a telracliotomy, a division into four: the stalk negates
the grain, the flower negates the stalk, the fruit negates the flower.
The omission of the moment of flowering is of considerable impor
tance also in the following respect. In Ihe days of Ilegel. perhaps,
it was permissible lo take the grain for the point of departure in
the life of the plant, and from the business point of view it may
he permissible to do so even today: the business year does begin
with the sowing of the grain. Rut the life of the plant, does not
begin with the grain. We now know very well that the grain is
something very complex in its structure, and itself represents
the product of development of the coll. and that Ihe cells requisite
for reproduction are formed precisely at the moment of flowering.
Thus in the example taken from vegetable life not only has the
point of departure been taken arbitrarily and incorrectly, hut
the whole process has been artificially and once again arbitrarily
squeezed into the framework of a trichotom y. * And tho conclu
sion is: " It is about time we ceased to believe that oats grow according
to FIegel."aM
Everything flows, everything changes! In our day. i.e.. when
the writer of these lines, as a student, studied the natural sciences.
ats grew according to Hegel, while now "we know very well"'
* Russkoye Bogatslvo , 18!M, Vol. II, Part II, pp. 154-57.
554
G. P LEK HA N O V
that all that is nonsense: now nous avons change tout cola.
Hut really, do we quite know what we are talking about?
Mr. M ikhailovsky sets forth the example of a grain of oats,
which he has borrowed from Engels, quite otherwise than as it is
set forth by Engels himself. Engels says: The grain as such
ceases to exist, it is negated, and in its place appears the plant
which has arisen from it, the negation of the grain. B ut what is the
normal life-process of this plant? It grows, flowers, is fertilised
and finally once more produces grains of oats,* and as soon as
these have ripened the stalk dies, is in its turn negated. As a result
of this negation of the negation we have once again the original
grain of barley, but not as a single u n it, but ten-, twenty-, or
thirty-fold. ** For Engels the negation of the grain was the
entire plant, in the cycle of life of which are included, incidentally,
both flowering and fertilisation. Mr. M ikhailovsky negates the
word plant by putting in its place the word stalk. The stalk,
as is known, constitutes only part of a plant, and naturally is
negated by its other parts: omnis determinatio est negatio. But
lhat is the very reason why Mr. M ikhailovsky negates tho
expression used by Engels, replacing it by his own: the stalk
negates the grain, he shouts, the flower negates the stalk, the
fruit negates the flower: theres a tetrachotorny at least! Quite
so, Mr. M ikhailovsky: but all that only goes to prove that in
your argument w ith Engels you do not stop even at ... how shall
1 put it more m ild ly ... at the moment ... of altering the words
of your opponent. This method is somewhat, ... subjective".
Once the moment of substitution has done its work, the hatofnl triad falls apart like a house of cards. You have left out the
moment of floweringtho Russian sociologist reproaches the
German Socialist and the omission of the moment of flowering
is of considerable importance. The reader has seen that tho
moment of flowering has been omitted not by Engels, but by
Mr. Mikhailovsky in setting forth the views of Engels; he knows
also that omission? of that kind in lite ra tu re are given consider
able, though quite negative, importance. Mr. Mikhailovsky
here, too, had recourse to a somewhat unattractive moment".
But what could he do? The triad is so hateful, victory is so
pleasant, and people quite uninitiated in the mysteries of
a certain nightcap are so gullible!
We a ll are innocent from birth,
To virtue a great price we pin:
*
Enijels writes, strictly speaking, of barley, not oats: but this is im
material, of course.
** flerrn Eugen DUhrlng's Umwalzung der Wissenschaft, I. Auflag*
I. T e il, S. 1 1 1 -1 2 .857
B ut meet such people on this earth

That truly, toe can't help but s in ...3SS
The flower is an organ of the plant anil, as such, as little negates
the plant as the head of Mr. M ikhailovsky negates Mr. M ikhai
lovsky. But the fruit or, to be more exact, the fertilised ovum,
is really the negation of the given organism being the point of
departure of the development of a new life. Engels accordingly
considers the cycle of life of a plant from the beginning of its
dev 'lopment out of tho fertilised ovum to its reproduction of a ferlilised ovum. Mr. M ikhailovsky w ith the learned air of a connois
seur roinarks: The life of a plant does not begin w ith tho grain.
We now know very well, etc.: briefly, we now know that the
si?3 <l is fertilised during the flowering. Engels, of course, knows
this just as well as Mr. Mikhailovsky. But what does this prove?
If Mr. M ikhailovsky prefers, we shall replace the grain by the
fertilised seed, but it w ill not alter the essence of tho life-cvcle of
the plant, and w ill not refute the triad. The oats will still
be growing according to Hegel.
By the way. supposing we adm it for a moment lhat the moment
of flowering overthrows all tho argumonts of the Hegelians. IIow
will Mr. M ikhailovsky have us deal w ith non-flowering plants?
Is ho really going to leave them in the grip of the triad? That
would be wrong, because the triad would in that event have a vast
number of subjects.
But we put this question really only in order to make clearer
Mr. Mikhailovsky's idea. Wo ourselves still remain convinced
that you cant save yourself from the triad even with the flower.
And are we alone in thinking so? Mere is what, for example, the
botanical specialist Ph. Van Tieghem says: Whatever be tho form
of the plant, and to whatever group it may belong thanks to that
form, its body always originates in another body which existed
before it and from which it separated. In its turn, at a given mo
ment, it separates from its mass particular parts, which become
the point of departure, the germs, of as many new bodies, and
so forth. In a word it reproduces itself in' the same way as it is
born: by dissociation. * Just look at that! A scholar of repute,
a member of the Institute, a professor at the Museum of Natural
History, and talks like a veritable Hegelian: it begins, he says,
with dissociation and finishes up w ith it again. And not a word
about the moment of flowering ! We ourselves understand how
very vexing this must bo for Mr. Mikhailovsky: but theres nothing
to be done truth, as we know, is more important than Plato.
Let us once again suppose that the moment of flowering
overthrows the triad. In that case, keeping to Hegel's term inol
* Tratte de Botantque
(2nd ed.), Paris, 189), Part I, p. 24.^
556
G. P LEK H A N O V
ogy, wo arrive not at a trichotomy hut at least at a tetrachotomy,

a division into four. Hegels terminology reminds us of his
Encyclopaedia. We open its first part, and learn from it that there
are many cases when trichotomy passes into tetrarhotomy, and
lhat generally speaking trichotomy, as a matter of fact, is su
preme only in the sphere of the spirit.* So i l turns out that oals
grow according lo Hegel, as Van Tieghem assures us, and Hoc**!
thinks about oats according to M r. Mikhailovsky, as is evidenced
by the Enzyklopadie der philosophischen Wissenschaften im Grumlrisse. Marvel upon marvel! She to him , and lie to me. and I to the
barman Peter . . . . 389
Another example borrowed by Mr. M ikhailovsky from Engels,
to enlighten the uninitiated , deals w ith the teachings of Rous
seau. 3*0
"According to Rousseau, people in their natural state and sav
agery were equal with the equality of animals. But man is distin
guished by his perfectibility, and this process of perfection began
w ith the appearance of inequality: thereafter every further step
of civilisation was contradictory: they were steps seemingly
towards the perfection of the in divid ual man, hut in reality
towards the decay of the race.... Metallurgy and agriculture were
the two arts the discovery of which produced this great revolu
tion. For the poet it is gold and silver, but for the philosopher
iron and corn, which have civilised men and ruined the human
race. Inequality continues to develop and, reaching its apogee,
turns, in the eastern despotisms, once again into the universal
equality of universal insignificance, i.e., returns to its point of
departure: and thereafter the further process in the same way
brings one to the equality of the social contract.
That is how Mr. M ikhailovsky sets out the example given by
Engels. As is quite obvious, he finds this, too, debatable.
One could make some remark about Engels exposition;
but is it im portant for us only to know what precisely Engels
values in Rousseaus work (Discours sur Vorigine el les fondements
de Vinegalite parm i les homines). He does not touch upon the
question of whether Rousseau rightly or wrongly u nd e rsta n d s
the course of history, he is interested only in the fact that Roussenn
thinks dialectically : he sees contradiction in the very content of
progress, and disposes his exposition in such a way as to make
it adaptable to the Hegelian formula of negation and negntim <*f
the negation. And in reality this can he done, even though Rousseau
did not know the Hegelian dialectical formula.
This is only the first outpost attack on Hegelianism in the
person of Engels. Then follows the attack sur toute la ligne.
* Enzyklopddie, Erster Teil, 230, Zusatz.
THE DEVELOPMENT OP THE MONIST V IE W OK H IST O RY 557
"Rousseau, w ithout knowing Hegel, thought dialectically

according to Ilegel. W hy Rousseau and not Voltaire, or not
the first man in tho street? Becuuse all people, by lheir very
nature, think dialectically. Yet it is precisely Rousseau who
i selected, a matt who stands out among his contemporaries
not only by his g iftsin this respect many were not inferior to
him but by his very mental make-up and by the character of his
perception of Ihe world. Such an exceptional phenomenon, you
might think, ought nol to be taken as a test for a general rule.
Rut we pick as wo choose. Rousseau is interesting and im portant,
first of all, because he was the first to demonstrate sufficiently
clearly the contradictory character of civilisation, and contra
diction is the essential condition of the dialectical process. We
must however remark lh a t the contradiction discerned by Rous
seau has nothing in common w ith contradiction in the Hegelian
sense of the word. The contradiction of Hegel lies in the fact that
everything, being in a constant process of motion and change
(and precisely by the consistent triple path), is at every given
unit of time i t and at the same time 'not-it' . If we leave aside
the obligatory three stages of development, contradiction
is here sim ply, as it were, the lining of changes, motion, develop
ment. Rousseau also speaks of the process of change. But it is
by no means in the very fact of change that he sees contradiction.
A considerable part of his argument, both in the Discours and in
bis other works, can be summarised in the following way: intel
lectual progress has been accompanied by moral retrogression.
Evidently dialectical thinking has absolutely nothing to do w ith
it: there is no negation of the negation here, but only an in d i
cation of the simultaneous existence of good and evil in the
particular group of phenomena. All the resemblance to the dia
lectical process is reduced to the single word contradiction .
This, however, is only one side of the case. In addition, Engels
sees an obvious trichotomy in Rousseaus argument: after prim
itive equality follows its negation inequality, then follows
Ihe negation of the negation the equality of all in the eastern
despotisms, in face of the power of the khan, sultan, shah. Here
we have the extreme measure of inequality, the final point which
completes the circle and meets the point from which we set o u t.
Rut history does not stop at this, it develops new inequalities,
nd so forth. The words we have quoted are the actual words
of Rousseau, and it is they which are particularly dear to Engels,
obvious evidence that Rousseau thinks according to Hegel.*
*
A ll these extracts have been taken from the volume of Russkoue Boealshm
*1ready quoted.
558
G. P LE K H A N O V
Rousseau stood out among his contemporaries. That is true.

W hat made him stand out? The fact that he thought dialectical!yy
whereas his contemporaries were almost w ithout exception
metaphysicians. H is view of the origin of inequality is precisely
a dialectical view, although Mr. M ikhailovsky denies it.
In tho words of Mr. M ikhailovsky, Rousseau only pointed out
that intellectual progress was accompanied in the history of civi
lisation by moral retrogression. No, Rousseau did not only point
this out. According to him , intellectual progress was the cause
of moral retrogression. It would be possible to realise this even
without reading the works of Rousseau: it would he sufficient to
recall, on the basis of the previous extract, what part he ascribed
in his work to the working of metals and agriculture, which
produced the great revolution that destroyed prim itive equality.
B u t whoever has read Rousseau himself has not, of course, forgot
ten the following passage in his Discours sur I'origine de Vinegalite:
II me reste a considerer et a rapprocher les differents hasards
qui ont pu perfectionner la raison hum aine en deteriorant l'espece,
rendre un etre mechant en le rendant sociable__ (It remains
for me to consider and to bring together the different hazards
which have been able to perfect hum an reason by worsening Ihe
hum an species, m aking this anim al wicked bv m aking him socia
b le ....)
This passage is particularly remarkable because it illustrates
very well Rousseaus view on the capacity of the hum an race for
progress. This peculiarity was spoken of a great deal by his
contemporaries as well. But with them it was a mysterious
force which, out of its own inner essence, brought about the suc
cesses of reason. According to Rousseau, this capacity never could
develop of its own accord". For its development it required constant
impulses from outside. This is one of the most important specific,
features of the dialectical view of intellectual progress, compared
w ith ihe metaphysical view. We shall have to refer to it again
later. A t present what is important is that the passage just quoted
expresses w ith utm ost clarity the opinion of Rousseau as to the
causal connection between moral retrogression and intellectual
progress.* And this is very important for ascertaining the v itv
of this writer on the course of civilisation. Mr. M ikhailovsky n ako?
it appear that Rousseau sim ply pointed out a contradiction",
and maybe shed some generous tears about it. In reality Rousseau
*
For doubters there is another extract: J'ai assipn ce premier drcr^
de la decadence des moeurs au premier moment de la culture des lettres linns
tous les pays du monde. Letlre a M. l'abbc Raynal, Guvres dr Rousseau
Paris, 1820, V ol. ]V , p. 43. [1 have assigned this first degree of tho docadi'ixf
of morals to the first, moment, or the art of letters in all countries of the world.
Letter to the Abbe Raynal, in Rousseau's Works, Paris, 1820, Vol. IV , p. 43.!
considered this contradiction to be the mainspring of the historical

development of civilisation. The founder of civil society, and
consequently the grave-digger of prim itive equality, was the man
who first fenced off a piece of land and said: It belongs to mo.'
In other words, the foundation of civil society is property, which
arouses so many disputes among men. evokes in them so much
greed, so spoils their m orality. But the origin of properly presup
posed a certain development of technique and knowledge (de l industrie et des lumieres). Thus prim itive relations perished precisely
thanks to this development; hut at the lim e when this develop
ment led to the trium ph of private property, prim itive relations
between men, on their part, were already in such a state that
their further existence had become impossible.* If we judge of
Rousseau by the way in whicli Mr. M ikhailovsky depicts the
contradiction he pointed out. we might think that the famous
Genevese was nothing more than a lachrymose subjective sociolo
gist, who at best was capable of inventing a highly moral formula
of progress for the curing of human ills. In reality Rousseau most
of all hated just that kind of formula , and stamped it underfoot
whenever he had the opportunity.
Civil society arose on the ruins of prim itive relations, which
had proved incapable of further existence. These relations con
tained w ithin themselves the embryo of their own negation. In
demonstrating this proposition, Ronssenu as it were was illus
trating in anticipation tho thought of Ilegel, that every phenome
non destroys itself, becomes transformed into its own opposite.
Rousseaus reflection on despotism may be considered a further
illustration of this idea.
Now judge for yourself how much understanding of Hegel
and Rousseau Mr. M ikhailovsky displays when he says: "Evidently
dialectical thinking has absolutely nothing to do with it
and when he naively imagines that Engels arbitrarily registered
Rousseau in the dialectical department only on the grounds that
Rousseau used the expressions contradiction , "cycle , return
to the point from which we set out , etc.
But why did Engels quote Rousseau, and not anyone else?
'M iy Rousseau and not Voltaire, or not the first man in the
street? Because all people, bv their verv nature, think dialectic ally ...
Y oure mistaken. Mr. M ikhailovsky: far from all. You for one
Would' never be taken by Engels for a dialectician. It would be
sufficient for him to read your article: Karl Marx Before the
Judgement of Mr. Y . Zhukovsky , 391 for him lo put you downWithout* hesitation among lhe incorrigible metaphysicians.
* See the beginning of Part II of Discours sur VinigaliU.
500
G. P LEKHANOV
On dialectical thinking Engels says: Men thought dialectically

long before they knew what dialectics was, just as they spoke
prose long before the term prose existed. The law of negation of
the negation, which is unconsciously operative in nature
history, and, u n til it has been recognised, also in our heads, was
only first clearly formulated by Hegel. * As the reader sees, this
refers to unconscious dialectical thinking, from which it, is still
a very long way to its conscious form. When we say that extremes
meet, we without noticing it express a dialectical view of things;
when we move we, again without suspecting it, are engaged in
applied dialectics (we already said earlier that motion is tho
application of contradiction). But neither motion nor dialectical
apii(jrisrris are sufficient to save us from metaphysics in the sphere of
systematical thought. On the contrary. The history of thought shows
that for a long time metaphysics grew more and more strongand
necessarily had lo grow strong at the expense of prim itive and
naive dialectics: The analysis of nature into its individual parts,
the grouping of different natural processes and objects in definite
classes, the study of the internal anatomy of organic bodies in
their manifold forms these were the fundamental conditions
of the gigantic strides in our knowledge of nature that have been
made during the Iasi four hundred years. But. this method of
work has also left us as legacy the habit of observing natural
objects and processes in isolation, outside their connection
w ith the vast whole; of observing them in repose, not in motion:
as constants, not as essentially variables; in their death, not, in
their life. And when this way of looking at things was trans
ferred by Bacon and Locke from natural science lo philosophy, il
l>egot the narrow, metaphysical mode of thought peculiar to the
last century.
Thus writes Engels, from whom we also learn lh a l the newer
philosophy, on the other hand, although in it also dialectics had
brilliant exponents (e.g., Descartes and Spinoza), had, especially
through English influence, become more and more rigidly t'lxoii
in the so-called metaphysical mode of reasoning, by which also
the French of the eighteenth century were almost wholly
dominated, at all events in their special philosophical work.
Outside philosophy in the restricted sense, the French nevertheless
produced masterpieces of dialectic. Wo need only call to min'l
Diderots Le Neveu de Rameau and Rousseaus Discours sur I'origin*
et les fondcments de I'inegalite parmi les hommes. **
It would seem clear why Engels speaks of Rousseau, and n" 1
of Voltaire and not of the first man in the street. We dare n"*
and
* flerrn Eugen Diihring's U m w dlzungelc., I I . Auflage, S. 134.33>

** Ib id ., S. 4-6.303
the
development
of t h e
m o n is t
v ie w
of h is t o r y
sei
think that Mr. Mikhailovsky lias not read that same book of Engels
he quotes, and from which he draws the examples which
l,e examines. And if Mr. M ikhailovsky still pesters Engels w ith
jq first man in the street, it remains to suppose merely that
our author, here too, has recourse to the moment of substitution
with which we are already fam iliar, the moment. ... of purpose
ful distortion of the words of his opponent. The exploitation
0f such a moment m ight seem to him all the more convenient
because Engels book has not been translated into Russian, and
does not exist for readers who dont know German . 394 Here we
pick as we choose. Here again there is a new tem ptation, and
once again "we can't help but sin".
Oh is it true, each god some pleasure feels
When 'tis our honour tumbles, head over heels?*
But let us take a rest from Mr. Mikhailovsky, and return to the
German idealists, an und fiir sich.
We have said that the philosophy of nature was the weak point
pi these thinkers, whose m ain services are to be sought in various
brunches of the philosophy of history. Now we shall add that it
could not be otherwise at that time. Philosophy, which called
itself the science of sciences, always had in it much "worldly
content, i.e.. it always occupied itself with many purely scien
tific questions. But at different times its worldly content was
different.
Tims to confine ourselves here to examples from the history
of modern philosophy, in the seventeenth century the philoso
phers m ainly occupied themselves with questions of mathematics
and the natural sciences. The philosophy of the eighteenth century
utilised for its purposes the scientific discoveries and theories
of the preceding epoch, but itself, if it studied the natural sciences,
did so perhaps only in Ihe person of Kant. In France it was social
questions which then came to the foreground. The same questions
continued m ainly to preoccupy, although from a different aspect,
the philosophers of the nineteenth century. Schelling, for exam
ple, said flatly thal he thought the solution of a certain historical
problem to be the must important task' of transcendental philosophy.
^ hut this problem was, we shall soon see.
If everything flows and everything changes: if every phenoine"(n negates itself: if there is no such useful institution as w ill
ultim ately become harm ful, changing in this way into its
wn opposite, it follows that it is stupid to seek for perfect legisla
*
Let the reader not blame us for these quotations from La Belle HHene.
jVe recently read again Mr. Mikhailovskys article, Darwinism and the
u peretias of Offenbach", ami are s t ill under its potent influence.
36-01320
562
G. P LEK H A N O V
sociotv
tion and that it is impossible to invent a structure of

which would be the best for all ages and peoples: everything ^
good in its right place and at the right time. Dialectical thinking,
excluded a ll Utopias.
It was all the more bound to exclude them because human na
ture", that allegedly constant criterion which, as we have seen, w;is
invariably used both by the writers of the Enlightenment of
eighteenth century and the U topian Socialists of the first half ,,f
the nineteenth century, experienced the common fate of all pheno
mena: it was itself recognised to be variable.
W ith this there disappeared that naively idealist view of history
which was also maintained in equal measure both by tho writer*
of the Enlightenment and the Utopians, and which is expressed
in the words: reason, opinions govern the world. Of course, said
Hegel, reason governs history, but in the same sense as it governs
the motion of the colestial bodies, i.e., in the sense of conformity
to law. Tho motion of the celestial bodies conforms to law, but they
naturally have no conception of that conformity. The same applies
to the historical progress of hum anity. In it, without any doubt,
there are particular laws at work; but this does not mean that
men are conscious of them, and that therefore human reason, mir
knowledge, our philosophy are the principal factors in histori
cal progress. The owl of Minerva begins to fly only at nighl.
When philosophy begins tracing its grey patterns on a grey back
ground, when men begin to study their own social order, you
may say with certainty that that order has outlived its day and
is preparing to yield place to a new order, the true character of
which w ill again become clear to mankind only after it has played
its historical part: Minervas owl w ill once again fly out only at
n ig ht . 388 It is hardly necessary to say that the periodical aerial
travels of the bird of wisdom are very useful, and are even quit**
essential. But they explain absolutely nothing; they themselves
require explanation and, probably, can be explained, because
they too conform to law.
The recognition of conformity to law in the flights of Minerva's
owl was the foundation of quite a new view of the history of
m ankind s intellectual development. The metaphysicians of all
ages, all peoples and all tendencies, once they had acquired
a certain philosophical system, considered it to be the truth an'l
all other systems to be unquestionably false. They knew only
the abstract oppositeness of abstract conceptions truth and errorTherefore the history of thought was for them only a chaotic
tangle of partly sad, partly ridiculous mistakes, whose wild dance
continued right up to that blessed moment when, at last, the trii'1
system of philosophy was invented. That was how .1 . B. Say.
that most confirmed metaphysician of all metaphysicians, regard-
the
DEVELOPMENT OK THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 563
i the history of his branch of knowledge. IJo recommended not

to stmly it, because there was nothing in it except, errors. The
dialectical idealists looked otherwise at things. Philosophy is the
Intellectual expression of its own age, they said: every philosophy
is true for its own age, and mistaken for any other.
Hut if reason governs the world only in the sense of the confor
mity ol phenomena to law: if it is not ideas, not knowledge, not
enlightenment that direct men in their, so to speak, social house
keeping and in their historical progress, where then is human
freedom? Where is the sphere in which man judges and chooses
without amusing himself, like a child, with some trifling toy,
without serving as a plaything in the hands of some external force,
even though maybe it is not blind?
The old but eternally new question of freedom and necessity
rose up before the idealists of the nineteenth century, just as it
had arisen before the metaphysicians of the preceding century,
and as it arose before absolutely all the philosophers who had
concerned themselves w ith questions of the relationship of being
and thought. Like a sphinx it said to each such thinker: unravel
me. or I shall devour your system\
The question of freedom and necessity was precisely that prob
lem the solution of which in its application to history Schelling
considered to be the greatest task of transcendental philoso
phy. Did tho latter solve it? How did that philosophy decide it?
And note: for Schelling, as for Hegel, this question presented
difficulties in its application precisely to history. From the purely
anthropological point of view it could already be considered solved.
An explanation is necessary here, and in giving it we shall
ask the reader to pay it particular attention, in view of the tre
mendous importance of the subject.
The magnetic needle turns to the north. This arises from tho
action of a particular form of matter, which itself is subordinated
to certain laws: the laws of the material world. But for the needle
'he motions of that matter are unnoticed: it has not the least
conception of them. It imagines thal it is turning to the north
quite independently of any external cause, simply because it
finds it pleasant so to turn. Material necessity presents itself
to the needle in the shape of its own free spiritual activity.*
By this example Leibniz tried to explain his view of freedom
<'f w ill. By a sim ilar example Spinoza explains his own quite
identical view . 387
A certain external cause has communicated to a stone a certain
Quantity of motion. The motion continues, of course, for a certain
tune even after the cause has ceased to act. This, its continuation,
s necessary according to the laws of the material world. But imagine
^ a t the stone can thin k , thal it is conscious of its own motion
36*
564
G. PLEK HA NO V
which gives it pleasure, but does not know its causes, and does
not even know that there was any external reason at all for that
motion. How in that event w ill the stone conceive of its own
motion? Inevitably as the result of its own desire, its own free
choice. It w ill say to itself: I am moving because I want to move.
The same is true of that human freedom of which all men are
so proud. Its essence amounts to the fact that men are conscious
of their inclinations but do not know' the external causes which
give rise to those inclinations. Thus a child imagines that it is
free to desire that m ilk which constitutes its sustenance....
Many even present-day readers w ill find such an explanation
crudely materialistic", and they w ill be surprised that Leibniz,
an idealist of the purest water, could give it. They w ill say in
addition that in any case comparison is not proof, and that even
less of a proof is the fantastic comparison of man w ith a magnetic
needle or a stone. To this we shall observe that the comparison
w ill cease to be fantastic as soon as we recall the phenomena
which take place every day in the human head. The materialists
of the eighteenth century were already pointing out the circum
stance that to every willed movement in the brain there corres
ponds a certain motion of the brain fibres. W hat is a fantasy
in respect of the magnetic needle or the stone becomes an unques
tionable fact in relation to the brain: a movement of matter,
taking place according to the fatal laws of necessity, is in fact
accompanied in the brain by what is called the free operation
of thought. And as for the surprise, quite natural at first sight,
on account of the materialist argument of the idealist Leibniz,
we must remember that, as has already been pointed out, all
the consistent idealists were monists, i.e., in their outlook upon
the world there was no place at all for that impassable abyss which
separates matter from spirit in the view of the dualists. In tho
opinion of the dualist, a given aggregation of matter can prove
capable of thought only in the event of a particle of spirit enter
ing into it: matter and spirit, in the eyes of the dualist, art'
two quite independent substances which have nothing in common
between them. The comparison made by Leibniz w ill seem wil'l
to him , for the simple reason that the magnetic needle has no soulBut imagine that you are dealing w ith a man who argues in this*
way: the needle is really something quite material. But what is
matter itself? I believe it owes its existence to the spirit, and nol >n
the sense that it has been created by the spirit, but in the sen?'1
that it itself is the spirit, only existing in another shape. T h atsh ap i
does not correspond to the true nature of the spirit: it is even
directly opposed to that nature; but this does not prevent it from
being a form of existence of the spiritbecause, by its very naturfi.
ithe spirit must change into its own opposite. You may be s,ir'
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY 565
nriseil by this argument as well, but you w ill agree at all events that
tbe man who finds it convincing, the man who sees in matter
only the other existence of the spirit , w ill not be repelled by
explanations which attribute to matter tho functions of the'
spirit, or which make those functions intim ately dependent upon
the laws of matter. Such a man may accept a materialist explana
tion of spiritual phenomena and at the same time give it (whether
bv far-fetched reasoning or otherwise, is a different question)
a'strictly idealist sense. And that was how the German idealists
acted.
The spiritual activity of man is subjected to the laws of mate
rial necessity. But this in no way destroys human freedom. The
laws of material necessity themselves are nothing else than the
laws of action of the spirit. Freedom presupposes necessity, necessity
passes entirely into freedom, and therefore m ans freedom in real
ity is incomparably wider than the dualists suppose when, trying
to delim it free activity and necessary activity, they thereby tear
away from the realm of freedom all that region (even in their
opinion, a very wide region) which they set apart for necessity.
That was how the dialectical idealists argued. As the reader
sees, they held firmly to the magnetic needle of Leibniz: only
that needle was completely transformed, or so to speak spiritu
alised, in their hands.
But the transformation of the needle did not yet solve all the
difficulties involved in the question of the relationship between
freedom and necessity. Let us suppose that the individual is
quite free in spile of his subordination to the laws of necessity,
or moreover just because of that subordination. B u t in society,
and consequently in history too, we are dealing not w ith a single
individual but with a whole mass of individuals. The question
arises, is not the freedom of each infringed by the freedom of the
rest? 1 have the intention of doing this and that for example,
of realising truth and justice in social relations. This intention
has been freely adopted by myself, and no less free w ill be those
actions of mine with the help of which I shall try to put it into
effect. But my neighbours hinder me in pursuing my aim. They
have revolted against my intention, just as freely as I adopted it.
And just, as free are their actions directed against me. How shall I
overcome the obstacles which they create? N aturally, I shall
argue with them, try to persuade them, and maybe even appeal
to them or frighten them. But how can I know whether this w ill
h'ad to anything? The French writers of the Enlightenment used
to say: la raison fmira par avoir raison. But in order that my reason
should trium ph, I require that my neighbours should recognise
't to be their reason as well. And what grounds have I for hoping
that ibis w ill take place? To the extent that their activity is
5fifi
G. PLEK HA NO V
freeand it is quite free to the extent that, by paths unknowi

to me, material necessity has passed into freedom and, by suD.
position, it has completely passed into freedomto that ext<>ij*
the acts of my fellow-citizens evade any foretelling. 1 might
hope to foresee them only on the condition that I could examine
them as I examine all other phenomena of tho world surrounding
me, i.e., as the necessary consequences of definite causes which are
already known, or may become known, to me. In other words, niv
freedom would not be an empty phrase only if consciousness of i\
could bo accompanied by understanding the reasons which give rise
to the free acts of my neighbours, i.e., if I could examine them
from the aspect of their necessity. Exactly the same can my neigh
bours say about my own acts. But what does this mean? This
means that the possibility of the free (conscious) historical activity
of any particular person is reduced to zero, if at the very foundation
of free human actions there does not lie necessity which is accessible
to the understanding of the doer.
We saw earlier that metaphysical French materialism led,
in point of fact, to fatalism. For in effect, if the fate of an entire
people depends on one stray atom, then all we can do is to sit
back, because we are absolutely incapable and never w ill lie
capable, either of foreseeing such tricks on tho part of individual
atoms or of preventing them.
Now we see that idealism can lead to exactly the same fatalism.
If there is nothing of necessity in the acts of my fellow-citizens,
or if they are inaccessible to my understanding from the angle
of their necessity, then all I can do is to rely on beneficent Provi
dence: my wisest plans, my most generous desires, w ill be brokeu
against the quite unforeseen actions of m illions of other men. Jn
that event, as Lucretius has it, out of everything anything may come.
And it is interesting that the more idealism attempted to
underline the aspect of freedom in theory, tho more it would be
obliged to reduce it to nothingness in the sphere of practical
activity, where idealism would not have the strength to grapple
with chance, armed with a ll the powers of freedom.
The dialectical idealists understood it perfectly well. In their
practical philosophy necessity was the truest and only reliable
guarantee of freedom. Even inoral duty cannot reassure me as to
the results of my actions, Schelling said, if the results depend
only on freedom. I n freedom there must be necessity. 38
B ut of what necessity, then, can thero be any question in this
case? I am hardly likely to derive much satisfaction from constant
repetition of the thought that certain willed movements neces
sarily correspond to certain movements of the substance of the
brain. No practical calculations can be founded on such an
abstract proposition, and there is no further prospect of progress
THE D E VELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H ISTOKV 567
,i (his direction, because the head of my neighbour is not a glass

beehive, and his cerebral fibres are not bees; and I could not
observe their motions even if I knew w ith certainty anti we are
still a long way from lhat situatio n that after such and such
a m ovem ent of such and such a nervous fibre there w ill follow such
and such an intention in tho soul of my fellow-citizen. Conse
quently we have to approach the study of the necessity of human
tit-.tions from some other angle.
This is all the more necessary because the owl of Minerva
flics out, as we know, only in the evening, i.e., the social rela
tions between men do not represent the result of their conscious
activity. Men consciously follow their private and personal ends.
Each of them consciously strives, let us suppose, to round off
his own property; yet out of the sum-total of their individual
actions there arise certain social results which perhaps they did
not at all desire, and certainly did not foresee. W ealthy Roman
citizens bought up the lauds of poor farmers. Each of them knew,
of course, that thanks to his efforts such and such Tullies and
Juliuses were becoming landless proletarians. Rut who among
them foresaw that the great estates would destroy the republic,
and with it Italy itself? W ho among them realised, or could
realise, the historical consequences of his acquisitiveness? None
of them could, and none of them did. Yet these were the conse
quences thanks to the great estates, both the republic and Italy
perished.
Out. of the conscious and free acts of individual men there
necessarily follow consequeuces, unexpected for them and un
foreseen by them, which affect tho whole of society, i.e., which
influence tlie sum-total of m utual relationships of the same men.
From the realm of freedom we thus pass into the realm of necessity.
If the social consequences of tho individual acts of men, arrived
at unconsciously for themselves, lead to the alteration of the
social systemwhich takes place always, though far from w ith
equal speed then new in div id u al aims arise before men. Their
free conscious activity necessarily takes a new form. From the
realm of necessity we again pass into the realm of freedom.
Every necessary process is a process taking place in conformity
to law. Changes in social relations which are unforeseen by men,
but which of necessity appear as a result of their actions, evi
dently take place according to definite laws. Theoretical philo
sophy has to discover them.
The same evidently applies to changes introduced into tho
aims of life, into lhe free activity of men, by the changed social
relations. In other words, the passing of necessity into freedom also
takes place according to definite laws, which can and must be disco
vered by theoretical philosophy.
508
G. P LEK HA N O V
And once theoretical philosophy has performed this task *

w ill provide quite new and unshakable foundation for practical
philosophy. Once I know the laws of social and historical progregs
I can influence the latter according to my aims, without beini?
concerned either by the tricks of stray atoms or by the considera
tion that my fellow-countrymen, as beings gifted w ith free will
are every moment getting ready for me whole piles of the niosl
astonishing surprises. N aturally, 1 shall not be in a condition
to go b ail for every in div id u al fellow-countryman, especially
if he belongs to the intellectual class; but in broad outline f
shall know the direction of the forces of society, and it w ill remain
for me only to rely on their resultant to achieve my ends.
And so if I could arrive, for example, at the blissful conviction
that in Russia, unlike other countries, it is the foundations
of society that w ill trium ph, this w ill only be lo the extent
that 1 succeed in understanding the actions of Ihe glorious Russ
as actions which are in conformity to law, and in examining
them from the standpoint of necessity and not from the stand
point of freedom. World history is progress in the consciousness of
freedom, says Hegel, progress which we must understand in its
necessity.399
Further, however wrell we may have studied the nature of
man, we shall still be very far from understanding those social
results which follow from the actions of individual men. Let
us suppose that we have adm itted, just as the economists of the
old school did, that striving for profit is the chief distinguishing
feature of human nature. Shall we be in a position to anticipate
the forms which that striving w ill take? Given definite social
relations, known to usyes; but these given, definite, known social
relations w ill themselves change under the pressure of human
nature , under the influence of the acquisitive activity of our
fellow-citizens. In what direction w ill they change? This will
be just as little known to us as that new direction which the
striving for profit itself w ill take, in the new and changed sociid
relations. We shall find ourselves in quite the same situ atio n
if, together w ith the German Katheder Sozialisten , we begin
asserting that the nature of man is not exhausted by Ihe mere
striving for profit, but that he also has a social sense (Gemeinsinn). T h is w ill be a new song to an old tune. In order to emerge
from ignorance, covered up by more or less learned terminology,
we have to pass on from the study of the nature of man to tho
study of the nature of social relations-, wre have to understand those
relations as essential process conforming to law. And this brings
us back to the question: what underlies, what determines, the nature
of social relations'}
We saw that neither the materialists of last century nor th* |
Utopian Socialists gave a satisfactory reply to this question,

pid the dialectical idealists succeed in answering it?
No, they too did not succeed, and they did not succeed precisely
because they were idealists. In order to grasp their view, let us
recall the argument referred to earlier about what depends on
whatthe constitution on manners, or manners on the const il ution. Hegel rightly remarked on this discussion that the question had
been pul here quite wrongly, as in reality, although the manners
of a particular people undoubtedly influence its constitution, and
its constitution its manners, nevertheless both of them repre
sent the result, of some "third' or special force, whicli creates
both the manners influencing the constitution and the constitu
tion influencing manners. But what, according to Hegel, is this
special force, this ultim ate foundation on which stand both the
nature of men and the nature of social relations? This force is
Notion" or, what is the same thing, tho "Idea", the realisation
of which is the whole history of the particular people concerned.
Every people puts into effect its own particular idea, and every
particular idea of each individual people represents a stage
in the development of the Absolute Idea. History thus turns out to
be, as it were, applied logic: to explain a particular historical
epoch means showing to what stage of the logical development
of the Absolute Idea it corresponds. But what, then, is this
Absolute Idea? N othing else than the personification of nur
own logical process. Here is what a man says of it who himself
passed through a thorough grounding in the school of idealism,
and himself was passionately devoted to it., but noticed very
soon wherein lies tho radical defect of this tendency in philo
sophy400:
If from real apples, pears, strawberries and almonds I form
the general idea 'F ru it'; if I go further and imagine that my ...
abstract idea F ru it, derived from real fruit, is an entity existing
outside me, is indeed the true essence of the pear, apple, etc.; then,
]n the language of speculative philosophy, I am declaring that F ruit
>s the substance of the pear, the apple, the almond, etc. 1 a in
saying, therefore, that to be a pear is not essential to the pear,
that to be an apple is not essential to the apple; that what is
essential to these things is ... the essence that I have abstracted
jroni them and then foisted on to them, the essence of m y idea
fr u it . I therefore declare apples, pears, almonds, etc., to be
nere forms of existence, modi, of F ruit . My finite understanding,
supported by my senses, does, of course, distinguish an apple
lrf>m a pear and a pear front an almond: but my speculative
reason declares these sensuous differences unessential, indifferent.
sees in the apple the same as in the pear, and in the pear tin*
Same as in the almond, namely 'F ru it'. Particular real fruits an
570
G. P LEK H A N O V
no more than semblances whose true essence is the Substance'

Fruit .
By this method one attains no particular wealth of definition.
The mineralogist whose whole science consisted in the statement,
that a ll minerals are really M ineral' would be a mineralogist
only in his im agination....
Having reduced the different real fruits to the one fruit of
abstraction F ru it , speculation must, in order to attain some
appearance of real content, try somehow to find its way back
from F ruit , from 'Substance', to the different profane real fruits,
the pear, the apple, the almond, etc. It is as hard to produce real
fruits from the abstract idea 1 F ru it as it is easy to produce this
abstract idea from real fruits. Indeed, it is impossible to arrive
at. the opposite of an abstraction w ithout relinquishing tho
abstraction.
The speculative philosopher therefore relinquishes the abstrac
tion F ru it , but in a speculative, mystical fashion.... Thus he
rises above his abstraction only in appearance. He argues like this:
If apples, pears, almonds and strawberries are really nothing
but Substance, F ru it, the question arises: W hy does Fruit mani
fest itself to me sometimes as an apple, sometimes as a pear,
sometimes as an almond? W hy this appearance of diversity which
so strikingly contradicts my speculative conception of Unity,
'Substance' , Fruit'?
This, answers tho speculative philosopher, is because Fruit
is not dead, undifferentiated, motionless, but living, self-differ
entiating, moving. The diversity of profane fruits is significant
not only to my sensuous understanding, but also to F ruit itself
and to speculative reasoning. The different profane fruits arc
different manifestations of the life of the one F ru it .... In the
apple, F ru it gives itself an apple-like existence, in the pear,
a pear-like existence.... F ru it presents itself as a pear, Fruit
presents itself as an apple, F ruit presents itself as an almond,
and the differences which distinguish apples, pears and almonds
from one another are the self-differentiations of F ru it making
the particular fruits subordinate members of the life-process "I
Fruit
A ll this is very b iting, but at the same time undoubtedly justBy personifying our own process of thought in the shape of an
Absolute Idea, and by seeking in this Idea the explanation of all
phenomena, idealism thereby led itself into a blind alley, out ol
which it could emerge only by abandoning tho Idea , i.e..
saying good-bye to idealism. Here, for example: do the following
*
[The quotation is from K. Marx and
(Gesamtausgabe, Abt. I, 13d. 3, S. 228-29)1
F.
Engels
The Holy Fmnt^
the
words of Schelling explain to you to any extent the nature of

magnetism? Magnetism is a general act of anim ation, the embed
ding of U nity into M ultitude, Concept into Diversity. That same
invasion of the subjective into the objective, which in the ideal ...
is self-consciousness, is here expressed in being .401 These words
dont explain anything at all, do they? Just as unsatisfactory are
similar explanations in the sphere of history. W hy did Greece
full? Because the idea which constituted the principle of Greek
life, the centre of the Greek spirit (the Idea of the Beautiful),
could be only a very shortlived phase in the development of the
world sp irit . 402 Replies of this kind only repeat the question in
a positive and, moreover, a pompous form, as it wore on stilts.
Hegel, who gave the explanation of the fall of Greece which has
just been quoted, seems himself to have felt this, and hastens
to supplement his idealist explanation by a reference to Ihe
economic reality of ancient Greece. Ho says: Lacedaemon fell
mainly on account of inequality of property." And he acts in this
way not only where Greece is concerned. This, one may say, is
his invariable approach in the philosophy of history: first a few
vague references to the qualities of the Absolute Idea, and then
much more extensive and, of course, much more convincing
indications of the character and development of the property
relations of the people to whom he is referring. Strictly speaking,
in explanations of this latter kind theres really nothing at all
idealist left and, in having recourse to them, Hegelwho used
to say that idealism proves to be the truth of materialism"was
signing a certificate about the poverty of idealism, tacitly adm it
ting as it were that in essence matters stand in exactly the opposite
way, and that materialism proves to be the truth vf idealism.
However, the materialism which Ilegel here approached was
a quite undeveloped, embryonic materialism, and im m ediately
passed once more into idealism as soon as he found it necessary
to explain whence came these or those particular property rela
tions. True, here also il would happen that Hegel frequently
expressed quite materialist views. But as a rule he regarded prop e r t y relations as the realisation of conceptions of R ig h t which
developed by their own internal force.
And so what have we learned about the dialectical idealists?
They abandoned the standpoint of human nature and, thanks
to this, got rid of the utopian view of social phenomena: they
began to examine social life as a necessary process, with its own
\vs. But in a roundabout fashion, by personifying the process
f our logical reason (i.e., one of the sides of human nature),
they returned to the same unsatisfactory point of view, and there
fore the true nature of social relations remained incomprehensible
for them.
572
G. P LEK HA N O V
.Now once again a little digression into the sphere of our own
domestic, Russian philosophy.
Mr. M ikhailovsky has heard from Mr. Filippov, who in his turn
has heard from the American writer Frazer, that all the philo
sophy of Hegel amounts to galvanic mysticism". W hat we have
said already of the aims which the idealist German philosophy
set before itself w ill be enough to show the reader how nonsensical
is Frazers opinion. Messrs. Filippov and M ikhailovsky them
selves feel that, their American has gone too far: It is sufficient
to recall the successive course and influence (on Hegel) of preced
ing metaphysics, beginning with the ancients, w ith Heraclitus..."
says Mr. M ikhailovsky, adding im m ediately, however: Neverthe
less the remarks of Frazer are in the highest degree interesting,
and undoubtedly contain a certain element of truth. We mnst
adm it, although we cannot but recognise__ Shchedrin long ago
held up this formula" to ridicule. But what would you have his
former contributor, Mr. M ikhailovsky , 403 do, when he has
undertaken to interpret to the uninitiated a philosopher whom
he knows only by hearsay? W illy-nilly you w ill go on repealing,
w ith the learned air of a scholar, phrases which say nothing..,.
Let us however recall the successive course of development
of German idealism. The experiments in galvanism produce an
impression on all the thinking people of Europe, including the
then young German philosopher Hegel, says Mr. Mikhailovsky.
Hegel creates a colossal metaphysical system, thundering through
out the world, so that theres no getting away from it even
on the banks of the River Moskva. ... The case is represented
here as though Hegel had become infected w ith galvanic mysti
cism direct from the physicists. But. Hegels system represents
only the further development of the views of Schelling: clearly
the infection must have previously influenced lhe latter. So
it did, reassuringly replies Mr. M ikhailovsky, or Mr. Filippov,
or Frazer: Schelling, and particularly some doctors who hnd
been his pupils, carried the teaching of polarity to the last extreme."
Very good. But the predecessor of Schelling was* as is known,
Fichte. How did the galvanic infection affect him ? Mr. M ikhailov
sky says nothing about this: probably ho thinks that it had no
influence at all. And he is quite right if he really does think so;
in order to be convinced of this, it is sufficient to read one of the
first philosophical works of Fichte, Grtindlage der gesammtcn
Wissenschaftslehre. Leipzig. 1794. Tn this work no m i c r o s c o p e
will discover the influence of galvanism ; yet there, too, appears
thal same notorious triad which, in the opinion of Mr. M ikhai'
lovsky, const.it,ues the main distinguishing feature of the H e g e l i a n
philosophy, and the genealogy of which Frazer, allegedly with
a certain element of truth, traces from the experiments ef
THE DEVELOPMENT OF TH E MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 573
Galvani and Volta We must adm it that all this is very strange,
although we cannot but recognise that nevertheless Hegel, etc., etc.
The reader knows already what were Schellings views on
magnetism. The defect of German idealism lay not at all in Its
being founded allegedly on an excessive and unjustified captiva
tion (in a mystical form) by the scientific discoveries of its age,
but, on the contrary, in its attem pt to explain all the phenomena
of nature and history w ith the help of the process of thought
which it had personified.
In conclusion, one comforting piece of news. Mr. M ikhailovsky
has discovered that metaphysics and capitalism are most in ti
mately connected; that, to use the language of economic m aterial
ism, metaphysics is an essential component part of the super
structure over the capitalist form of production, although at the
same time capital swallows up and adapts to itself all the techni
cal advances of science, founded on experiment and observation,
which is hostile to metaphysics". Mr. M ikhailovsky promises lo
discuss this curious contradiction" some other time. Mr. M ikhai
lovsky's examination w ill be curious indeed! Just think: what he
calls metaphysics underwent a b rillia n t development both in
ancient Greece and in Germany of the eighteenth and the first
half of the nineteenth centuries. U p to now it was thought that
ancient Greece was not a capitalist country at all, and in Germany,
at the time indicated, capitalism had only just begun to develop.
Mr. M ikhailovskys research w ill demonstrate that from the point
of view of subjective sociology" this is quite untrue, and that pre
cisely ancient Greece and Germany in the days of Fichte and
Hegel were classical countries of capitalism. You see now why
this is im portant. Let our author, then, hasten to publish his re
markable discovery. Sing, my dear, don't be shy!
Chapter
t'
M ODERN M A T ER IA LISM
The bankruptcy of the idealist point of view in explaining
the phenomena of nature and of social development was hound
to force, and really did force, thinking people (i.e., not eclectics,
not dualists) to return to the materialist view of the world. But
the new materialism could no longer be a simple repetition of the
teachings of lhe French materialists of the end of the eighteenth
century. Materialism rose again enriched by all the acquisitions
of idealism. The most important of these acquisitions was the
dialectical method, the examination of phenomena in their develop
ment, in their origin and destruction. The genius who represented
this new direction of thought was K arl Marx.
Marx was not the first to revolt against idealism. The banner
of revolt was raised by Ludwig Feuerbach. Then, a little later
than Feuerbach, the Bauer brothers appeared on the literary
scene: their view\s merit particular attention on the part of the
present-day Russian reader.
The views of the Bauers were a reaction against Ilegels ideal
ism. Nevertheless, they themselves were saturated through and
through w ith a very superficial, one-sided and eclectic idealism.
We have seen that the great German idealists did not succeed
in understanding the real nature or discovering the real basis
of social relations. They saw in social development a necessary
process, conforming to law, and in this respect they were quite
right. But when it was a question of the prime mover of historical
development, they turned to the Absolute Idea, the qualities
of which were to give the ultim ate and most profound e x p la n a tio n
of that process. This constituted the weak side of idealism, against
which accordingly a philosophical revolution first broke out. The
extreme Left wing of the Hegelian school revolted w ith determi
nation against the Absolute Idea.
The Absolute Idea exists (if it exists at all) outside time aim
space and, in any case, outside the head of each individual in fnReproducing in its historical development the course of 'I11'
logical development of the Absolute Idea, mankind obeys a force
THE D EVELO PM EN T OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IST O R Y 575
alien to itself, standing outside itself. In revolting against the

Absolute Idea, the young Hegelians revolted first of all in the
name of the independent activity of man, in the name of ultim ate
human reason.
"Speculative philosophy, wrote Edgar Bauer, is very mis
taken when it speaks of reason as some abstract, absolute force....
Reason is not an objective abstract force, in relation to which man
represents only something subjective, accidental, passing; no,
the dom inating force is man himself, his consciousness of self,
and reason is only the strength of that consciousness. Consequently
there is no Absolute Reason, but there is only reason which changes
eternally w ith the development of consciousness of self: it does
not exist at all in its final form, it is eternally changing. *
And so there is no Absolute Idea, there is no abstract Reason,
but there is only m an s consciousness, the ultim ate and eternally
changing human reason. This is quite true; against this even
Mr. M ikhailovsky would not argue, although as we already know he
can find anything debatable... with more or less doubtful success.
But, strangely enough, the more we underline this correct thought,
the more difficult becomes our position. The old German idealists
adapted the conformity to law of overy process in nature and in
history to the Absolute Idea. The question arises, to what will
we adapt this conformity to law when we have destroyed its
carrier, the Absolute Idea? Let us suppose that in relation to nature
a satisfactory reply can be given in a few words: we adapt it to
the qualities of matter. But in relation to history things are far
from being as simple: the dom inating force in history turns out
to be m ans consciousness of self, eternally changing, ultiinato
human reason. Is there any conformity to law in the development
of this reason? Edgar Bauer would naturally have replied in the
affirmative, because for him m an, and consequently his reason,
were not at all something accidental, as we have seen. But if you
had asked the same Bauer to explain to you his conception of
conformity to law in the development of hum an reason: if you
had asked him , for example, why in a particular historical epoch
reason developed in this way, and in another epoch in that way,
practically speaking you would have received no reply from him .
He would have told you that eternally developing human reason
creates social forms , that historical reason is the motive force of
world history and that consequently every particular social
order proves to be obsolete as soon as reason makes a new step in
Us development.** But all these and sim ilar assurances would not
_
* Edgar Bauer, Der Streit der Kritik mit Kirche und Staal, Borne, 1844.
s * 184.
** Loc. cit., p. 185.
57C
G. P L E K IIA X O V
be a reply to the question, but rather a wandering around tho

question of why hum an reason takes new steps in its develop
m ent, and why it takes them in this direction and not in that.
Obliged by you to deal precisely w ith this question, E. Bauer
would have hastily put it aside with some meaningless reference
to the qualities of the ultim ate, eternally changing human reason,
just as the old idealists confined themselves to a reference to the
qualities of the Absolute Idea.
To treat reason as the motive force of world history, and to
explain its development by some kind of special, immanent,
internal qualities meant to transform it into something uncondi
tio n a lor, in other words, to resurrect in a new form that same
Absolute Idea which they had just proclaimed to be buried for
ever. The most im portant defect of this resurrected Absolute
Idea was the circumstance that it peacefully coexisted with the
most absolute dualism or, to be more precise, even unquestionably
presupposed it. As the processes of nature were not conditioned
by ultim ate, eternally changing human reason, two forces turned
out to be in existence: in naturematter, in historyhuman
reason. And there was no bridge connecting the motion of matter
w ith the development of reason, the realm of necessity with the
realm of freedom. That was why we said that the views of Bauer
were saturated through and through w ith a very superficial, one
sided and eclectical idealism.
O pinion governs the world thus declared the writers of the
French Enlightenment. Thus also spoke, as we see, the Bauer
brothers wThen they revolted against Hegelian idealism. But if
opinion governs the world, then the prime movers of history are
those men whose thought criticises the old and creates the new
opinions. The Bauer brothers did in fact think so. The essence
of the historical process was reduced, in their view, to the refa
shioning by the critical spirit of the existing store of opinions,
and of the forms of life in society conditioned by that store. These
views of the Bauers were imported in their entirety into Russian
literature by the author of the Historical Letters40*who, by thu
way, spoke not of the critical "spirit but of critical thought",
because to speak of the spirit was prohibited by Sovremennik.
Once having imagined himself to be the main architect, tl'1'
demiurge of history, the critically thinking man thereby sepa
rates off himself and those like him into a special, higher variety
of the hum an race. This higher variety is contrasted to the massforeign to critical thought, and capable only of playing the par*
of clay in the creative hands of critically thinking personaliti<-,Heroes are contrasted to the crowdI . However much the hero
loves the crowd, however filled he may be with sympathy
its age-long needs and its continuous sufferings, he c a n n o t bul
look down on it from above, he cannot but realise that every
thing depends upon him , the hero, while the crowd is a mass alien
to every creative element, something in the nature of a vast quan
tity of ciphers, which acquire some positive significance only in
the event of a kind, critically thinking entity condescendingly
taking its place at their head. The eclectic idealism of the Bauer
brothers was the basis of the terrible, and one may say repulsive,
self-conceit of the critically thinking German intellectuals
of the 1840s; today, through its Russian supporters, it is breeding
the same defect in the intelligentsia of Russia. The merciless
enemy and accuser of this self-conceit was Marx, to whom we shall
now proceed.
Marx said that the contrasting of critically thinking person
alities w ith the mass was nothing more than a caricature of
the Hegelian view of history: a view which in its turn was only
the speculative consequence of the old doctrine of the oppositeness
of Spirit and Matter. In Hegel the Absolute Spirit of history*
already treats the mass as material and finds its true expression
only in philosophy. But with Hegel the philosopher is only the
organ througli which the creator of history, the Absolute Spirit,
arrives at self-consciousness by retrospection after 1he movement
has ended. The participation of the philosopher in history is re
duced to this retrospective consciousness, for real movement is
accomplished by the Absolute S pirit unconsciously,** so that
the philosopher appears post festum. Hegel is doubly incon
sistent: first because, while declaring that philosophy consti
tutes the Absolute S p irits existence, he refuses to recognise
the real philosophical in d iv id u a l as the Absolute Spirit;
secondly because according to him the Absolute Spirit makes
history only in appearance. For as the Absolute Spirit becomes
conscious of itself as the creative W orld S pirit only in the
philosopher and post festum, its making of history exists
only in tho consciousness, in the opinion of the philosopher, i.e.,
only in the speculative im agination. Herr Bruno Bauer*** e lim i
nates Hegels inconsistency.
First, he proclaims Criticism to be the Absolute Spirit and
himself to be Criticism. Just as the element of Criticism is banished
from the mass, so the element of mass is banished from Criticism.
Therefore Criticism sees itself incarnate not in a mass, but in a
* The same as the Absolute Idea.

** The reader will not have forgotten the expression of Hegel quoted
earlier: the owl of Minerva begins to fly only in the evening.
, *** Bruno Bauer was the elder brother of Edgar, mentioned earlier, and
tho author of a book famous in its day, Kritik der evangelischen Geschichte
er Synoptiker.
37- 0 l:t 2 9
578
G. PLEK HA N O V
small handjul of chosen men, exclusively in Ilerr Bauer and his

followers.
Ilerr Bauer further does away with Hegel's other inconsistency.
No longer, like the Hegelian spirit, does he make history post
festum and in im agination. He consciously plays tho part of tho
World S p irit in opposition to the mass of the rest of mankind;
he enters in the present into a dramatic relation with that mass;
he invents and carries out history w ith a purpose and after mature
m editation.
On the one side stands the Mass, that material, passive, dull
and unhistorical element of history. On the other side stand the
S pirit, Criticism , Ilerr Bruno and Co. as the active element from
which arises a ll historical action. The act of social transformation
is reduced to the brain work of Critical Criticism .*
These lines produce a strange illusion: it seems as though they
were w ritten, not fifty years ago, but some m onth or so ago, and
are directed, not against the German Left Hegelians, but against
the Russian subjective sociologists. Tho illusion becomes
still stronger when we read the following extract from an article
of Engels:
Self-sufficient Criticism , complete and perfect in itself, natu
rally must not recognise history as it really took place, for that
would mean recognising the base mass in a ll its massy massiness,
whereas the problem is to redeem the mass from massiness. History
is therefore freed from its massiness, and Criticism, which has
a free attitude to its object, calls to history, saying: You ought
to have happened in such and such a w ay! A ll the laws of Criti
cism have retroactive force: history behaved quite differently
before the decrees of Criticism than it did after them. Hence
massy history, the so-called real history, deviates considerably
from critical history__ **
Who is referred to in this passage? Is it the German writers of
the 40s, or some of our contemporary sociologists", who gravely
discourse on the theme that the Catholic sees the course of histor
ical events in one way, the Protestant in another, the monarchist
in a third, the republican in a fourth: and that therefore a good
subjective person not only can, but must, invent for himself, for
*
F. Engels und K. Marx, Die heilige Familie, oder Kritik der kritischtn
Kritik. Gegen Bruno Bauer und Consorlen, Frankfurt am Main, 1845,
pp. 126-28. This book is a collection of articles by Engels and Marx directed
against various opinions expressed in the Critical Criticism . The pnssflgP
quoted is taken from an article by Marx405 against an article by Bruno Bauer.
I t was also from Marx that the passage quoted in the preceding chapter was
taken.
[The passage is in chapter 6 bv Marxof The Holy Family (Gesamtuusgabe, Abt. I, Bd. 3, S. 257-58).]
** Ibid., S. 6.446
liis own spiritual use, such a history as would fully correspond to

I lie best of ideals? Did Engels really foresee our Russian stupid itit>s? Not at all! N aturally, he did not even dream of them, and
if his irony, half a century later, fits our subjective thinkers like
a glove, this is to be explained by the simple fact that our sub
jective nonsense has absolutely nothing original in it: it repre
sents nothing more than a choap Suzdal407 print from a caricature
uf tho same Hegelianism against which it wars so unsuccessfully....
From the point of view of Critical Criticism , all great histori
cal conflicts amounted to the conflict of ideas. Marx observes that
ideas were worsted every time they did not coincide w ith the
real economic interests of that social stratum which at the partic
ular time was the bearer of historical progress. It is only the
understanding of those interests that can give the key to under
standing the true course of historical development.
We already know that the French writers of the Enlightenment
themselves did not close their eyes to interests, and that they too
were not averse to turning to them for an explanation of the
given condition of a given society. But their view of the decisive
importance of interests was merely a variation of tho formula
that opinions govern the world: according to them, the interests
themselves depend on mens opinions, and change w ith changes
in the latter. Such an interpretation of the significance of inter
ests represents the trium ph of idealism in its application to his
tory. It leaves far behind even German dialectical idealism, accord
ing to the sense of which men discover new material interests
every time the Absolute Idea finds it necessary to take a new step
in its logical development. Marx understands the significance
of material interests quite otherwise.
To the ordinary Russian reader the historical theory of Marx
seems some kind of disgraceful libel on the hum an race. G. I. Us
pensky, if we are not mistaken, in his R u in , has an old woman,
the wife of some official who even in her deathbed delirium ob
stinately goes on repeating the shameful rule by which she was
guided all her life: Aim at the pocket, the pocket! The Russian
intelligentsia naively imagines that Marx attributes this base
rule to all m ankind: that he asserts that, whatever the sons of man
have busied themselves w ith, they have always, exclusively
and consciously, aimed at the pocket". The selfless Russian intel
lectual n aturally finds such a view just as disagreeable as the
theory of Darwin is disagreeable for some official dame who
imagines that the whole sense of this theory amounts to the out
rageous proposition that she, forsooth, a most respectable officials
lady, is nothing more than a monkey dressed up in a bonnet. In
reality Marx slanders the intellectuals just as little as Darwin
does official dames.
37*
------------------------------------------------580
G. P LEKHANOV
In order to understand the historical views of Marx, we must

recall the conclusions at which philosophy and social and histori
cal science had arrived in the period im m ediately preceding his
appearance. The French historians of the Restoration caine as
we know to the conclusion that civil conditions , property rela
tions , constitute the basic foundation of the entire social order.
We know also that the same conclusion was reached, in the person
of Hegel, by idealist German philosophyagainst its w ill, against
its spirit, sim ply on account of the inadequacy and bankruptcy
of the idealist explanation of history. Marx, who took over .'ill the
results of the scientific knowledge and philosophic thought of his
age, completely agrees w ith the French historians and Hegel about
the conclusion just mentioned. I became convinced, he said, that
legal relations as well as forms of state are to be grasped neither
from themselves nor from the so-called general development of
the human m ind, but rather have their roots in the material con
ditions of life, the sum-total of which Hegel, following the example
of the Englishmen and Frenchmen of the eighteenth century, com
bines under the name of civil society , that, however, the anatomy
of civil society is to be sought in political economy.408
But. on what does the economy of the given society depend?
Neither the French historians, nor the U topian Socialists, nor
Hegel have been able to reply to this at a ll satisfactorily. All
of them, directly or indirectly, referred to hum an nature. The
great scientific service rendered by Marx lies in this, that lie ap
proached the question from the diam etrically opposite side, and
that he regarded m ans nature itself as the eternally changing
result of historical progress, the cause of which lies outside man.
In order to exist, man must support his organism, borrowing
the substances he requires from the external nature surrounding
him . This borrowing presupposes a certain action of man on
that external nature. But, acting on the external world, lie
changes his own nature . In these few words is contained the
essence of the whole historical theory of Marx, although naturally,
taken by themselves, they do not provide an adequate under
standing of it, and require explanations.
Franklin called man a tool-making anim al . The use and production of tools in fact does constitute the distinguishing feature
of man. Darwin contests the opinion that only man is capable of
the use of tools, and gives m any examples which show that in an
embryonic form their use is characteristic for many mammals. And
he naturally is quite right from his point of view, i.e., in the sense
that in that notorious human nature there is not a single feature
which is not to be found in some other variety of anim al, and
that therefore there is absolutely no foundation for considering
man to be some special being and separating him off into a sp<-'-
'I
cial kingdom . But it must not be forgotten that quantitative

differences pass into qualitative. W hat exists as an embryo in one
species of anim al can become the distinguishing feature of another
species of anim al. This particularly applies to the use of tools.
An elephant breaks off branches and uses them to brush away
flies. This is interesting and instructive. B ut in the history of the
evolution of the species elephant the use of branches in the fight
against flies probably played no essential part; elephants did not
become elephants because their more or less elephant-like ancestors
brushed oil flies w ith branches. I t is quite otherwise w ith
man.*
The whole existence of the Australian savage depends on his
boomerang, just as tho whole existence of modern B ritain depends
on her machines. Take away from the Australian his boomerang,
make him a tiller of the soil, and he of necessity w ill change all
his mode of life, all his habits, all his manner of thin king , all
his nature".
We have said: make him a tiller of the soil. From tho example
of agriculture it can clearly be seen that the process of the pro
ductive action of man on nature presupposes not only the im ple
ments of labour. The implements of labour constitute only part
of the means necessary for production. Therefore it w ill be more
exact to speak, not of the development of the implements of labour,
but more generally of the development of the means of production,
the productive forcesalthough it is quite certain that the most
important part in this development belongs or at least belonged
up to the present day (u ntil im portant chemical industries ap
peared) precisely to the implements of labour.
In the implements of labour man acquires new organs, as it
were, which change his anatom ical structure. From the time that
he rose to the level of using them , he has given quite a new aspect
to the history of his development. Previously, as w ith a ll the
other animals, it amounted to changes in his natural organs.
Since that time it has become first of all the history of the perfecting
of his artificial organs, the growth of his productive forces.
M an the tool-making a n im a lis at the same time a social
Animal, originating in ancestors who for m any generations lived
'n more or less large herds. For us it is not im portant at this
point why our ancestors began to live in herdsthe zoologists have
to ascertain, and are ascertaining, th is but from the point of
view of the philosophy of history it is extremely im portant to note
, * So thoroughly is the use of tools the exclusive at tribute of man that
;ne discovery of a single artificially shaped flint in the drift or cave-breccia
is deemed proof enough that man has been there. Daniel Wilson, Prehistoric
Man, Vol. I, pp. 151-52, London, 1876.
G. PLEK HA N O V
582
lhat from tho time the artificial organs of man began to play a deci
sive part in his existence, his social life itself began to change, in
accordance w ith the course of development of his productive
forces.
In production, men not only act on nature but also on one
another. They produce only by co-operating in a certain way and
m utually exchanging their activities. In order to produce, they
enter into definite connections and relations w ith one another and
only w ithin these social connections and relations does their action
on nature, does production, take place. *
The artificial organs, the implements of labour, thus turn out
to be organs not so much of in d iv id u a l as of social man. That is
why every essential change in them brings about changes in the
social structure.
These social relations into which the producers enter with one
another, the conditions under which they exchange their activi
ties and participate in the whole act of production, w ill naturally
vary according to the character of the means of production. With
the invention of a new instrument of warfare, fire-arms, the whole
internal organisation of the army necessarily changed; the rela
tionships w ithin which individuals can constitute an army and
act as an army were transformed and the relations of different
armies to one another also changed. Thus the social relations
w ithin which individuals produce, the social relations of produc
tion, change, are transformed, w ith the change and development
of the material moans of production, the productive forces. The
relations of production in their to tality constitute what are called
the social relations, society, and, specifically, a society at a definite
stage of historical development, a society w ith a peculiar, distinc
tive character. Ancient society, feudal society, bourgeois society
are such totalities of production relations, each of which at tho
same time denotes a special stage of development in the history
of m ankind. **
It is hardly necessary to add that the earlier stages of human
development represent also no less dist inct totalities of production
relations. It is equally unnecessary to repeat that, at these earlier
stages too, the state of the productive forces had a decisive influence
on the social relations of men.
A t this point we must pause in order to examine some, at
first sight fairly convincing, objections.
The first is as follows.
No one contests the great importance of the implements of
labour, the vast role of the forces of production in the historical
* K . Marx, Lohnarbeit und K ap lta l.40>
** Ibid.
progress of m a n k in d tlie Marxists are often to ld but it was

man who invented the implements of labour and made use of them
in his work. Y ou yourselves recognise that their use presupposes
a comparatively very high degree of intellectual development.
Every new step forward in the perfecting of the implements of
l a b o u r requires new efforts of the human intellect. Efforts of the
intellect are the cause, and the development of the productive
forces the consequence. Therefore the intellect is the prime mover
of historical progress, which means that those men were right
who asserted that opinions govern the world, i.e., that human
reason is the governing element.
Nothing is more natural than such an observation, but this
does not prevent it from being groundless.
Undoubtedly the use of the implements of labour presupposes
high development of the intellect in the anim al man. But see
the reasons which modern natural science gives as an explana
tion for this development.
Man could not have attained his present dominant position
in the world w ithout the use of his hands, which are so adm irably
adapted to act in obedience to his w ill, says Darw in.* This is
not a new idea: it was previously expressed by Helvetius. But
Helvelius, who was never able to take his stand firmly on the
view-point of evolution, was not able to clothe his own thought
in a more or less convincing form. Darwin put forward in its
defence au entire arsenal of arguments, and although they all
naturally have a purely hypothetical character, still in their
sum-total they are sufficiently convincing. W hat does Darwin
say, then? Whence did quasi-inan get his present, quite human
hands, which have exercised such a remarkable influence in pro
moting the successes of his intellect? Probably they were formed
in virtue of certain peculiarities of the geographical environment
which made useful a physiological division of labour between
the front and rear limbs. The successes of intellect appeared as
the remole consequence of this division a n d again in favourable
external circumstances became in their turn the immediate
reason for the appearance of m ans artificial organs, the use of tools.
These new artificial organs rendered new services to his intellectual
development, and the successes of the intellect again reflected
themselves upon the organs. We have before us a long process in
which cause and consequence are constantly alternating. But
it would be a mistake to examine this process from the standpoint
of simple interaction. In order that man should take advantago of
the successes already achieved by his intellect to perfect his
artificial implements, i.e., to increase his power over nature, he had
* La descendance de I'homme, etc., Paris,
1881, p .
5 1 . 411
5S4
G. P LE K H A N O V
to be in a certain geographical environment, capable of providing

him w ith (1 ) materials necessary for that perfecting, (2 ) the
object the working up of w hich would presuppose perfected imple
ments. Where there were no metals, the intellect of social man
alone could not in any circumstances lead him beyond the bounda
ries of the polished stone period ; and in just the same way in
order to pass on to the pastoral and agricultural life he required
certain fauna and flora, w ithout which intellect would have re
mained motionless. But even this is not all. The intellectual
development of prim itive societies was bound to proceed the more
quickly, the greater were the m u tu al connections betwoen them,
and these connections were, of course, the more frequent, the more
varied were the geographical conditions of the localities which
they inhabited, i.e., the less sim ilar, consequently, were the prod
ucts of one locality and those of another.* Lastly, a ll know how
im portant in this respect are the natural means of communication.
It was already Hegel who said that mountains divide men, while
seas and rivers bring them together.**
Geographical environment exercises no less decisive an influence
on the fate also of large societies, the fate of states arising on the
ruins of the prim itive clan organisations. I t is not the mere fertil
ity of the soil, but the differentiation of the soil, the variety of
its natural products, the changes of the seasons, which form the
physical basis for the social division of labour, and which, by
changes in the natural surroundings, spur man on to the m u ltip li
*
In the well-known book of von Martius, on the primitive inhabitants
of Brazil,412 several interesting examples can be found which show how impor
tant are what seem to be the most insignificant peculiarities of various loca
lities, in developing mutual relations between their inhabitants.
** However, it must be observed about the sea that it does not always
bring men together. Ratzel (Anthropo-Geographie, Stuttgart, 1882, p. 02)
justly remarks that at a certain low stage of development the sea is an absolute
frontier, i.e., it renders impossible any relations whatsoever between the
peoples it divides. For their part, relations which are made possible origi
nally only by tho characteristics of geographical environment leave their
impression on the physiognomy of primitive tribes. Islanders are markedly
distinguished from those dwelling on continents.
Die Bevolkerungen der Inseln sind in cinigen Fallen vollig anderc als
die des niichst gelegenen Festlandes oder der nachsten grosseren Insel; iibw
auch wo sie urspriinglicb derselben Rassc oder Volkergruppe angehoren, sind
sie immer weit von derselben verscbieden; und zwar, kann man hinzusetzen,
in der Regel weiter als die entsprechenden festlandischen Abzweigungen
dieser Rasse oder Gruppe untereinander (Ratzel, loc. cit., S. 96). ["The
inhabitants of islands are in some cases totally different from those of the
nearest mainland or the nearest large island; but even where they originally
belonged to the same race or group of.peoples, they are always widely differ
ent from the latter; and indeed one can add, as a rule, that they differ more
widely than do the corresponding branches of this race or group on the main
land among themselves. ! Here is repeated the same law as in the form ation
of the species and varieties of animals.
cation of his wants, his capabilities, bis means and inodes of la

bour. It is the necessity of bringing a natural force under the con
trol of society, of economising, of appropriating or subduing it
on a large scale by the work of m ans hand, that first plays the
decisive part in the history of industry. Examples are, the irri
gation works in Egypt, Lombardy, H olland, or in India and
Persia where irrigation, by means of artificial canals, not only
supplies the soil w ith the water indispensable to it, but also carries
down to it, in the shape of sediment from the hills, mineral fertil
isers. The secret of the flourishing state of industry in Spain and
Sicily under the dominion of the Arabs lay in their irrigation
works. *
Thus only thanks to certain particular qualities of the geographical
environment could our anthropomorphic ancestors rise to that height
of intellectual development which was necessary to transform them
into to:', making animals. A nd in just the same way only certain
peculiari.:es of the same environment could provide the scope for
using in practice and constantly perfecting this new capacity of
"tool-making".** In the historical process of the development
*
Marx, Das K ap ital, 3. Aufl., S. 524-26.413 In a footnote Marx adds:
One of the material bases of lhe power of the State over the small discon
nected producing organisms in India, was the regulation of the water supply.
The Mohammedan rulers of India understood this better than their English
successors. We may compare with the opinion of Marx, quoted above, the
opinion of a most recent investigator: Unter dem, was aie lebende Natur
dem Menschen an Gaben bietet, ist nicht der Reic-htum an Stoffen, sondern
der an Kraften oder, besser gesagt, Krafleanregungen am hochsten zu
schatzen (Ratzel, loc. cit., S. 343). ["Among lhe gifts which living Nature
offers to men, that to be prized most highly is not material wealth, but energy,
or rather the means of producing onergy. l
** Editor's Note-. PlekhaDovs arguments about the significance of lhe
geographical environment in social progress (see pp. 585-86 and 657-tiO of this
edition) cannot be regarded as absolutely correct. In his later works Plekhanov
even speaks of the determining influence of the geographical environment
on the entire course of social progress.
While pointing out quite rightly that the geographical environment
influences man through social relations, thal the latter, once they have
arisen, develop in conformity with their inner laws, Plekhanov is mistaken
"hen he says that social structure "is determined in the long run by the char
acteristics of the geographical environment (p. 658) and that "the capacity
of man for tool-making must be regarded first of all us a constant magnitude,
while the surrounding external conditions for the use of this capacity in
practice have lo be regarded as a constantly varying magnitude " (p. 5S6).
Geographical environment is unquestionably one of the constant and
^dispensable conditions of development of society and, of course, influences
the development of society, accelerates or retards its development. Hut its
nfluence is not the determining influence, inasmuch as the changes and devel
opment of society proceed at an incomparably faster rate than the changes
ai|d development of geographical environment. In the space of three thousand
years three different social systems have been successively superseded in
Urr'pe: the primitive communal system, the slave system and the feudal
G. PLEK HA NO V
of productive forces, the capacity of man for tool-making must

be regarded first of all as a constant magnitude, while the surround
ing external conditions for the use of this capacity in practice
have to bo regarded as a constantly varying m agnitude*
The difference in results (the stages of cultural development)
achieved by various human societies is explained precisely by
the fact that environment did not permit tho various human tribes
to make practical use to an equal extent of their capacity to
invent . There is a school of anthropologists who trace the origin
of the difference in results mentioned in the different qualities of
the races of man. But the view of this school does not hold water:
it is merely a new variation of the old method of explaining histor
ical phenomena by references to human nature (or here, refer
ences to racial nature), and in its scientific profundity it has not
gone very much farther than the views of Molieres doctor, who
sagely proclaimed that opium sends one to sleep because it has
System. In the eastern |>art of Europe, in the U .S.S.R., even four social
systems have boon superseded. Yet during this period geographical condi
tions in Europe have either not changed at all, or have changed so slightly
that geography takes no note of them. And that is quite natural. Changes in
geographical environment of any importance require millions of years,
whereas a few hundred or a couple of thousand years are enough for even
very important changes in the system of human society.
It follows from this that geographical environment, cannot he the chief
cause, the determining cause of social development, for that which remains
almost unchanged in the course of tens of thousands or years cannot be the
chief cause of development of that which undergoes fundamental changes in
the course of a few hundred years.
*
We must beware, says L. Geiger, of ascribing to premeditation ton
great a part in the origin of implements. The discovery of the lirst imple
ments of the highest importance took place, of course, by accident, like many
groat discoveries of modem times. They were of course rather discovered
than invented. I arrived at this view in particular on account of the circum
stance that the names of implements never arise from their manufacture,
that those names never have a genetic character, but arise from the use
which is made of the implement. Thus, in the German language Scheere
(scissors), Sage (saw), Hacke (pick-axe) are objects which shear (scheereu).
saw (sagen), hack (hacken). This law of language must all the more allrod
our attention because the names of devices which do not represent tools on*
formed by a genetic or passive method, from the material or from the work
of which or thanks to which they arise. Thus, a skin as a receptacle for wine
in many languages originally means the skin torn off an animal: to tli
German Schlauch corresponds the English slough (snakeskin): the Greek
asc.os is simultaneously a skin in the sense of receptacle, and the skin
a beast. Here, consequently, language shows us quite evidently how and o'1*
of what was manufactured the device called a skin. It is otherwise in relalin
lo implements; and they at firstif we base ourselves on language"'on'
not manufactured at all. Thus the first knife could be found by a ccid en t
and I would say made use of in play, in the shape of a sharpened stnnf-^
L. Geiger, D ie Urgeschichte der Menschheit im Lichte der Sprache. M it htson
derer Beziehung atif die Entstehung des Werkzeugsjyp. 36-37 (in the colli*1'
Z ur Entwickelungsgesehichte der Menschheit, Stuttgart, 1878).
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY 587
the quality of sending to sleep (a race is backward because it lias

the quality of backwardness).
Acting on external nature, man changes his own nature. He
develops all his capacities, among them also the capacity of
tool-making . But at any given time the measure of thal capacity
is determined by the measure of the development of productive forces
already achieved.
Once an implement of labour has become an object of produc
tion, the very possibility as well as the greater or lesser degree
of perfecting its manufacture entirely depends on the implements
of labour w ith the help of which it is manufactured. This is
comprehensible to anyone even w ithout explanation. But this
is what, for example, may seem quite incomprehensible at
first glance. Plutarch, when m entioning the inventions made by
Archimedes during the siege of Syracuse by the Homans, finds it
necessary lo afologise for the inventor. It is, of course, indecent for
a philosopher to occupy himself with things of this kind, he
reflects, but Archimedes was justified by the extremity in which
his country found itself. We ask, who would now thin k of seeking
for circumstances which extenuate the guilt of Edison? We now
adays do not consider sham efulquite the oppositethe use
by man in practice of his capacity for mechanical inventions, while
the Greeks (or if you prefer the Homans), as you see, took quite
a different view of this. Hence the course of mechanical discovery
and invention among them was bound to proceed and actually
did procoedincomparably more slowly than amongst ourselves.
Here once again it m ight seem that opinions govern the world.
Hut. whence did the Greeks derive such a strange opinion? Its
origin cannot be explained by the qualities of the human intel
lect. It remains only to recall their social relations. The soci
eties of Greece and Rome were, as wo know, societies of slave-oumers.
In such societies all physical labour, a ll the work of production,
foil to the lot of the slaves. The free man was ashamed of such
labour, and therefore naturally there was established a contemptu
ous attitude even to the most im portant inventions which bore
on I lie processes of production and among (hern to the mechani
cal inventions. That is why Plutarch looked on Archimedes in a
very different way from that in which we now regard Edison.*
*
"For the art of mechanics ... was first originated by Eudoxus and
Archyta.s, who embellished geometry with its subtleties, and gave to problems
jncapable of proof by word and diagram a support derived from mechanical
lustrations that were patent to the senses.... Rut Plato was incensed at
(. f i 11UL* inveighed against them as corrupters and destroyers of the pure
xcellence of geometry, which thus turned her back upon tho incorporeal
Jungs of abstract thought and descended to the things of sense, making use,
'oreover, of objects which required much mean and manual labour. For
is reason mechanics was made entirely distinct from geometry, and being
588
G. P LE K H A N O V
But why was slavery established in Greece? Was it not because

the Greeks, on account of some errors of their intellect, consid
ered the slaveowning order to be the best? No, it was not because
of that. There was a time when the Greeks also had no slavery
and at that time they did not at all consider the slaveowning
social order to be natural and inevitable. Later on, slavery arose
among the Greeks, and gradually began to play a more and more
im portant part in their life. Then the view of the citizens of
Greece also changed: they began to defend slavery as a quite natu
ral and unquestionably essential institution. But why, then, did
slavery arise and develop among the Greeks? E vidently, for the
same reason that it arose and developed in other countries as
well, at a certain stage of their social development. And this
reason is well known: it consists in the state of the productive
forces. For, in fact, in order that it should be more profitable for
me to make my conquered enemy into a slave, rather than into
roast meat, it is necessary that the product of his unfree labour
should be able to m aintain not only his own existence but, at
least in part, mine too: in other words, a certain stage of develop
ment of the productive forces at my disposal is essential. And
it is precisely through this door that slavery enters history. Slave
labour is not very favourable to the development of the productive
forces; in conditions of slavery it advances extremely slowly, but
still it does advance. Finally there arrives a moment at which
the exploitation of slave labour proves to be less advantageous
than the exploitation of free labour. Then slavery is abolished.
or gradually dies out. It is shown to the door by that same develop
ment of the productive forces which introduced it into history.*
Thus we, returning to Plutarch, see that his view of Archimedes
inventions was conditioned by the state of the productive forces
of his age. And as views of this kind undoubtedly have a vast
for a long time ignored by philosophers came to be regarded as one of the
m ilitary arts (Pliitarchi. Vita Marcelli, edit. Teubneriana. C. Sintenis,
Lipsiae, 1883, Ch. X IV , pp. 135-36). As the reader will sec, Plutarch's view
was far from new at that time.
*
It is known that for a long time the Russian peasants themselves could
have, and not infrequently did have, their own serfs. The condition of a serf
could not be attractive to a peasant. But in the then state of the productive
forces of Russia not a single peasant could find that condition abnormal.
A muzhik who had made some money just as naturally began to think
about buying serfs as a Roman freeman strove to acquire slaves. The slaves
who revolted under the leadership of Spartacus waged war with their lords,
but not with slavery; if they had succeeded in winning their freedom. thpY
would themselves, in favourable circumstances, and with the most trami1'1'
conscience, have become slave-owners. W illy-nilly one recalls at this point
the words of Schelling, which acquire a new meaning, that freedom rmft
necessary. History shows that any of the forms of freedom makes its a|M"lir'
ance only where it becomes an economic necessity.
THE D EVELOPMEN T OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 589
influence on tho further course of discovery and invention, we

can say all the more that for every given people, at every given period
of its history, the further development of its productive forces is
determined by their condition in the period under examination.iU
Naturally, wherever we have to deal w ith inventions and dis
coveries, we deal also with reason . W ith o u t reason discoveries
and inventions would have been just as impossible as they were
before man appeared on tho earth. The teaching we are setting
forth does not at all leave out of account the role of reason; it
only tries to explain why reason at every given time acted, in this
way, and not otherwise-, it does not despise the successes of reason,
Inil only seeks to find a sufficient cause for them.
Lately another objection has been raised to the same
teaching, and we shall leave Mr, Kareyev to set it forth:
In course of tim e," says this writer, having more or less success
fully expounded the historical philosophy of Engels, Engels
supplemented his view by new considerations which introduced
an essential alteration. If previously he had recognised as the
foundation of the material conception of history only the investi
gation of the economic structure of society, later on he recognised
as equally important the study of fam ily structure. This took place
under the influence of new conceptions of the prim itive forms of
marriage and fam ily relations, which forced him to take into
account, not only the process of the production of products but
also the process of the reproduction of human generations. In
this respect lhe influence came in part from Morgans Ancient
S o c ie t y etc . * 415
And so, if earlier Engels recognised as the foundation of the
material (?) conception of history the investigation of the eco
nomic structure of society, later on, having recognised as equally
important, etc., he, practically speaking, ceased to be an econom
ic materialist. Mr. Kareyev sets forth this event in the tone of
a dispassionate historian, while Mr. M ikhailovsky skips and
jumps on the same subject; but both of them say essentially one
and the same thing, and both repeat what before them was said by
the extremely superficial German writer Weisengriin in his book,
Rntwickelungsgesetze der Menschheit, 416
It is quite natural that such a remarkable man as Engels, who
during whole decades followed attentively the advance of science
of his time, should very substantially supplement his basic view
f the history of hum anity. But there are supplements and supple
ments. as there are fagot el fagot. In this case the whole question
,s. did Engels change his views as a result of the supplements
, 0 * See Economic Materialism in History,rin Veslnik Yeiropu, August
,894, p. 601.
590
G. PLEK HA N O V
which wore introduced in them? Was he really obliged to recognise,

side by side w ith the development of production", the action of
another factor, allegedly equally im portant with the lirst? l i
is easy for anyone to reply to this question who has even tho
least willingness to make an attentive and serious approach
to it.
Elephants sometimes beat off flies w ith branches, says Darwin.
We have remarked in this connection that nevertheless these
branches play no essential part in the life of elephants, and that
the elephant did not become an elephant because he used branches.
B ut the elephant m ultiplies. The malo elephant has a certain
relationship w ith the female. The male and the female have a cer
tain relationship w ith their young. It is clear that these relations
have not been created by branches : they have been created by
the general conditions of life of this species, conditions in which
the role of a branch is so infinitely small that it can w ithout error
be equated to zero. B ut imagine that in the life of the elephant the
branch begins to play a more and more im portant part, in the
sense that it begins more and more to influence the structure of
those general conditions on which depend all the habits of elephants,
and in the long run their very existence. Imagine that the
branch has acquired at length a decisive influence in creating
these conditions. Then we shall have to recognise that it deter
mines in the long run also the relations of the male elephant with
the female and with his young. Then we shall have to recognise
that there was a time when the fam ily relations of elephants
developed independently (in the sense of their relation with the
branch), but that later on there came a time when those relations
began to be determined by the branch. W ill there be anything
strange in such an admission? Absolutely nothing, except the
strangeness of the very hypothesis that a branch might suddenly
acquire a decisive importance in the life of the elephant. And
we know ourselves that in relation to the elephant this hypothesis
cannot but seem strange; but in application to the history of man
things are different.
Man only gradually separated off from the anim al world. Them
was a time when in the life of our anthropoid ancestors tools played
just as insignificant a part as branches play in the life of I (in (dopliant. During this very long period, the relations between tl
anthropoid males and the anthropoid females, just as the rela
tions between each and their anthropoid young, were determined
by the general conditions of life of this species, which bre >
relation whatsoever to the implements of labour. On what dn
then depend the fam ily relations of our ancestors?_It is l ',e
naturalists who must explain this: the historian has as'yet no'.1'
ing to do in this sphere. But now the implements of labour I'1? 1
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 5<Ji
Id play a more and more im portant pari in the life of n an, Ihe
productive forces develop more and more, and there comes at length
a moment when they acquire a decisive influence on the whole
structure of social, and among them of fam ily, relations. It is
at this point that the work of the historian begins: he has to show
how and why tho fam ily relations of our ancestors changed in
connection w ith the development of their productive forces, how
the fam ily developed in accordance w ith economic relations. But
obviously, once he sets about such an explanation, he has in
studying the prim itive fam ily to reckon not only with economics:
for people m ultiplied even before the implements of labour acquired
their decisive significance in human life: even before this time
there existed some kind of fam ily relations which were deter
mined by the general conditions of existence of the species homo
sapiens. W hat then has the historian to do here? He w ill have,
first of all, to ask for a service record of this species from the natural
ist, who is passing over to him the further study of tho develop
ment of man; and he w ill have secondly to supplement this record
out of his own resources. In other words he will have to take the
family, as it came into existence, shall we say, in the zoological
period of the development of hum anity, and then show what
changes were introduced into it during the historical period, under
tho influence of the development of the productive forces, in conse
quence of changes in economic relations. That is all Engels says.
And we ask: when he says this, is he in the least changing his
original view of the significance of the productive forces in
the history of hum anity? Is he accepting, side by side with tho
working of this factor, the working of some other, of equal im
portance? It would seem that he is changing nothing, il would
seem that he is accepting no such factor. W ell, but if he is nol,
then why do Messrs. Weisengriin and Kareyev talk about a change
in his views, why does Mr. M ikhailovsky skip and jum p? Most
probably because of their own thoughtlessness.
But after all, it is really strange to reduce the history of the
family to the history of economic relations, even during what
you call the historical period, shout our opponents in chorus.
may be strange, and maybe it is not strange: this is debatable,
"e shall say in the words of Mr. M ikhailovsky. And we dont mind
debating it w ith you, gentlemen, but only on one condition:
during the debate behave seriously, study attentively the mean"R of nur words, dont attribute to us your own inventions, and
InI hasten to discover in us contradictions which neither we
"or our teachers have, or ever had. Are you agreed? Very well,
"''s debate.
One cannot explain the history of the fam ily by the history of
Pc"rioinic relations, you say: it is narrow, one-sided, unscientific.
592
G. P LEK HA N O V
We assert the contrary, and turn to the mediation of specialist

investigators.
Of course you know the hook of Giraud-Teulon: Les origines dc
la fam ille? We open this book which you know, and we find in
it for example the following passage:
The reasons which brought about the formation w ithin tho
prim itive tribe (Giraud-Teulon says, in point of fact, w ithin
the horde de la horde) of separate fam ily groups are evidently
connected w ith the growth in wealth of this tribe. The intro
duction into use, or the discovery, of some grain, the domesti
cation of new species of animals, could bo a sufficient reason for
radical transformations in savage society: all great successes of
civilisation always coincided w ith profound changes in Uneconom
ic life of tho population (p. 138).*
A few pages further on we read:
A pparently the transition from the system of female kinship
lo the system of male kinship was particularly heralded by con
flicts of a juridical character on the basis of property right (p. 141).
And furl her on: The organisation of the fam ily in which main
right predominates was everywhere aroused, it seems to me. by
the action of a force as simple as elemental: the right of property
(p. 146).
Von know, of course, what significance in the history of the
prim itive fam ily McLennan attributes to the k illin g of children
of the female sex? Engels, as we know, has a very negative attitude
to McLennans researches; but all the more interesting is it for
us in the present case to learn the views of McLennan on the
reason which gave rise to the appearance of infanticide, which
allegedly exercised such a decisive influence on the history of the
family.
To tribes surrounded by enemies, and, unaided by art, con
tending w ith the difficulties of subsistence, sons were a source of
strength, both for defence and in the quest for food, daughters
a source of weakness. **
W hat was it, then, that brought, about, in McLennans o p in io n ,
the k illin g of children of the female sex by the prim itive tribes?
The insufficiency of the means of existence, the weakness of tho
productive forces: if these tribes had enough food, probably they
would not have killed their little girls merely out of fear that one
day an enemy m ight come and possibly k ill them, or take them
away into captivity.
We repeat that Engels does not share McLennans view of *l,e
history of the fam ily, and we too find it very unsatisfying; but what
* We quote from the French edition of 1874.
.
** J. F. McLennan, Studies in A ncient History: Primitive Marriage, IS ''1'
p. 111.
THE D EVELOPMEN T OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O RY 593
is important at this stage is that McLennan, too, shares in the

sin with which Engels is reproached. lie , too, seeks in the state
of the productive forces the answer to the riddle of the history
of fam ily relations.
Need we continue our extracts, and quote from Lipperl or
Morgan? We see no need of this, for whoever has read them knows
that in this respect they are just as great sinners as McLennan
and Engels. Not w ithout sin on this occasion, as is well known,
in Herbert Spencer himself, although his sociological views have
absolutely nothing in common with economic materialism.
Of course it is possible to take advantage of this last circum
stance for polemical purposes, and to say: there you are! So
one can agree with Marx and Engels on this or that individual
question, and not share their general historical theury! Of course
one can. The only question is, on whose side w ill logic be.
Let us go further.
The development of the fam ily is determined by the develop
ment of property right, says Giraud-Teulon, adding that all success
es of civilisation in general coincide w ith changes in the economic
life of hum anity. The reader probably has noticed himself that
Giraud-Teulon is not quite precise in his terminology: his con
ception of property right is covered, as it wore, by the conception
of economic life. B u l after all, right is right, and economy is
economy, and the two conceptions should not bo mixed up. Where
has this property right come from? Perhaps it arose under the
influence of the economy of the given society (civil law always
serves merely as the expression of economic relations, says Lassalle),
or perhaps it owes its origin to some quite different reason. Here
we must continue the analysis, and not interrupt it precisely at
the moment when it is becoming of particularly profound and
most vital interest.
We have seen already that the French historians of the Resto
ration did not find a satisfactory reply to the question of the ori
gin of property right. Mr. Kareyev, in his article Economic Mate
rialism in History, deals w ith the German historical school of
law. It w ill not be a bad thing for us also lo recall the views of
this school.
Here is what our professor says about it. When at tho begin
ning of the present century there arose in Germany the sotailed historical school of law ' . 117 which began to examine law
not as a motionless system of juridical norms, as it was conceived
of by previous jurists, but as something moving, changing, developing, there appeared in this school a strong tendency to con
trast the historical view of law, as the sole and exclusively correct
view, with all other possible views in this sphere. The historical
view never tolerated the existence of scientific truths applicable
01329
G. PLEK HA NO V
504
to all ages, i.e., what in the language of modern science are called
general laws, and even directly denied these laws, and together
w ith them any general theory of law, in favour of the idea that
law depends on local conditions a dependence which has always
and everywhere existed, but does not exclude principles which
are common to all nations.*
In these few lines there are very m any... how shall we put it?...
shall we say, inexactitudes, against which the representatives and
supporters of the historical school of law would have raised a
protest. Thus, for example, they would have said lhat, when Mr.
Kareyev ascribes to them the denial of what in lhe language of
science are called general laws, he either deliberately distorts
their view, or else is confusing conceptions in a way most unbe
fitting a historiosophist , m ixing up those laws which fall
w ithin the scope of lhe history of law, and those which detoiinino
the historical development of nations. The historical school of law
never dreamed of denying the existence of the second kind of law,
and always tried to discover them although its efforts were not
crowned with success. But the very cause of its failure is extreme
ly instructive, and if Mr. Kareyev were to give himself the
trouble of thinking about it, perhaps who knows he too would
make clear for himself, at last, the "substance of the historical
process".
In the eighteenth century people were inclined to explain the
history of law by the action of the legislator. The historical
school strongly revolted against this inclination. As early as
1814, Savigny formulated the new view in this way: The smntotal of this view consists of the following: every law arises from
what in common usage, but not quite exactly, is called customary
law, i.e., it is brought into being first of all by the custom and
faith of the people, and only afterwards by jurisprudence. Thus
il is everywhere created by internal forces, which act unnoticed,
and not by the personal w ill of the legislator.**
This view was later developed by Savigny in his famous work
System des heutigen romischen Rechts. Positive law." he says in
this work, lives in the general consciousness of a people, and
therefore we have to call it popular law .... But this must n o t i n
any event be understood as meaning thal law has been c r e a t e d by
individual members of the people arbitrarily.... Positive law is
created by the spirit of a people, liv ing and acting in its i n d i v i d u a l
members, and therefore positive law, not by accident but of necPS'
* Vestnik Yevropy, Ju ly 1894, p. 12.
* Friedrich Karl von Savigny, Fora Beruf unserer Zeit jiir Gesetzgel>u
und liechtswissenschaft, 3rd ed., Heidelberg, 1840, p. 14. The lirst edili,1I>
appeared
in
1814.
the
development
of t h e
m o n is t
V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 595
*jty. is one and the same law in Ihe consciousness of individual

persons.
Savigny continues: If we consider Ihe question of the origin
0f the State, we shall have in the same way to locate it in supreme
necessity, in the action of a force building outward from w ithin,
as was shown earlier in the case of law in general; and this applies
not only to the existence of the State in general, but also to that
particular form which the State assumes in every individual
nation.**
Law arises in exactly Ihe same invisible way as language,
and it lives in the general consciousness of a people, not in the
shape of abstract rules, but in the shape of a living conception
of institutions of law and in their organic connection, so that,
when necessity arises, the abstract rule has to be formed in its
logical shape from this general conception, by means of a certain
artificial process (durch einen kiinstlichen Prozess).***
We are not interested here in the practical aspirations of the
historical school of law; but. as far as its theory is concerned, we
can already say, on the basis of the words of Savigny here quoted,
that it represents:
1. A reaction against the view held widely in the eighteenth
century that law is created by the arbitrary will of individual
persons (legislators); and an attempt to furnish a scientific ex
planation of the history of law, to understand that history as
a process which is necessary, and which, therefore, conforms to
law.
2. An attempt to explain that process, starting from a complete
ly idealist point, of view: the spirit of a people , the conscious
ness of a people , is the final authority to which the historical
school of law appealed.
Puchta expressed the idealist character of the views of this
school even more sharply.
Prim itive law, with Puchta, just as w ith Savigny, is custom
ary law. But how does customary law arise? The opinion is
often expressed that this law is created by everyday practice
(Uebung), but this is only a particular case of the materialist
view of the origin of popular conceptions. Exactly the opposite
view is the right one: everyday practice is only Ihe last moment,
it only expresses and embodies Ihe law which has arisen, and
^'hich lives in Ihe conviction of the individuals belonging to the
Particular people. Custom influences conviction only in the sense
* Berlin odition, 1840, Vol. 1, p. 14.

** Ibid., p. 22.
*** Ibid., p. 16.
38*
596
G. P LEK HA N O V
that tho latter, thanks to custom, becomes more conscious ami

more stable.*
And so the conviction of a people concerning this or that legal
institution arises independently of everyday practice, and earlier
than custom. Whence does this conviction come from, then?
It arises from the depth of the spirit of the people. The particular
form this conviction takes with a particular people is to be explained
by the particular features of the spirit of the people concerned.
This is very obscureso obscure that it does not contain any
symptom of a scientific explanation. Puchta himself feels that
things here are not quite satisfactory, and tries to put them right
with an observation of this kind: Law arises by an imperceptible
path. W ho could take upon himself to trace those paths which
lead to the origin of the given conviction, to its conception, its
growth, its flourishing, its manifestation? Those who tried to do
so, for the most part started from mistaken ideas. **
For the most pa rt....That means that there also existed inves
tigators whose in itia l ideas were correct. To what conclusions,
then, about the genesis of popular views on law did these persons
arrive? We must suppose that this remained a secret for Puchta,
because he does not go one step further than meaningless refer
ences to the qualities of the spirit of the people.
Nor is any explanation provided by the above-quoted remark
of Savigny lhat law lives in the general consciousness of a people,
not in the shape of abstract rules, but in the shape of a living
conception of legal institutions in their organic connection". Ami
it is not difficult to understand what it was that impelled Savigny
to give us this somewhat muddled information. If we had pre
sumed that law exists in the consciousness of a people in the shape
of abstract rules , we should thereby in the first place have come
up against the general consciousness of the jurists, who know
very well w ith what difficulty a people grasps these abstract
rules, and secondly, our theory of the origin of law would have
assumed a too incredible form. It would have appeared that before
entering into any practical relations one w ith another, before
acquiring any practical experience whatsoever, the men con
stituting the given people work out definite legal conceptions for
themselves, and having laid in a store of these, as a tramp does of
*
Cursus der Institutionen, Leipzig, 1841, Vol. I, p. 31. In a footnot
Puchta speaks sharply of the eclectics who strive to reconcile contradictory
views of the origin of law, and uses such expressions that willy-nilly t*111
question arises: can he possibly have anticipated the appearance of Mr. Ka*
reyev? But on the other hand it must be said that in Germany at the tim<?
of Puchta they had quite enough eclectics of their own. Whatever else then'
may be a shortage of, there are always and everywhere inexhaustible reserves
of that tvpe of mind.
** Ibid ., p. 28.
crusts, they set forth into the sphere of everyday practice, enter
upon their historical path. Nobody, of course, would believe
this, and so Savigny eliminates the abstract rules : law exists in
the consciousness of the people not in the shape of definite con
ceptions, it represents, not a collection of already fully shaped
crystals, but a more or less saturated solution out of which, when
necessity for this arises , i.e., when coming up against everyday
practice, the required juridical crystals are precipitated. Such
nn approach is not w ithout its ingenuity, but naturally it does
not in the least bring us nearer to a scientific understanding
of phenomena.
Let us take an example:
The Eskimos, R in k tells us, scarcely have any regular property;
but in so far as it can be spoken of, he enumerates three forms
which it takes:
1. Property owned by an association of generally more than
one fam ily e.g., the winter-house
2. Property, tho common possession of one, or at most of
three families of kindred v iz., a tent and everything belonging
to the household, such as lamps, tubs, dishes of wood, soapstono
pots; a boat, or um iak, which can carry a ll these articles along
with tho tent; one or two sledges w ith the dogs attached to them ;...
the stock of winter provisions....
3. As regards personal propertyi.e., owned by every in d iv id
ual ... his clothes ... weapons, and tools or whatever was specially
used by himself. These things were even regarded as having a
kind of supernatural relation to the owner, reminding us of that
between the body and the soul. Lending them to others was not
customary.*
Let us try and conceive of the origin of these three kinds of
property from the standpoint of the old historical school of law.
As, in the words of Puchta, convictions precede everyday prac
tice, and do not arise on the basis of custom, one must suppose
that matters proceeded in the following way. Before liv in g in
w inter-lio uses, even before they began to build them, the Eskimos
came to the conviction that once winter-houses appeared among
them, they must belong to a union of several families. In the
same way, our savages came to the conviction that, once there
appeared among them summer tents, barrels, wooden plates,
boats, pots, sledges and dogs, all these would have to be the
Property of a single fam ily or, at most, of three kindred families,
fin a lly , they formed no less firm a conviction that clothes, arms
aud tools must constitute personal property, and that it would be
^ Iong even to lend these articles. Let us add to this that, probably
* II. J. Rink, Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo, 1875, pp. 9-10, 30.
598
G. P L E K IIA N O V
all these "convictions existed, not in the shape of abstract rules,

but in the shape of a liv in g conception of legal institutions in
their organic connection , and that out of this solution of legal
conceptions there were precipitatedwhen necessity for this
arose, i.e., as they encountered winter dwellings, summer tents,
barrels, stone pots, wooden plates, boats, sledges and dogs the
norms of customary Eskimo law in their more or less logical form".
And the qualities of the above-mentioned legal solution
were determined by the mysterious qualities of the Eskimo
spirit.
This is not a scientific explanation at all, but a mere way of
talk in g Redensarten, as the Germans say.
That variety of idealism which was maintained by the supporters
of the historical school of law proved in its explanation of social
phenomena to be even more fallacious than the much more profound
idealism of Schelling and Hegel.
How did science emerge from that blind alley in which ideal
ism found itself? Let us hear what Mr. M. Kovalevsky, one
of the most distinguished representatives of modern comparative
law, has to say.
P ointing out that the social life of prim itive tribes bears on
itself the stamp of communism, Mr. Kovalevsky (listen, .Mr.
V. V.: he also is a professor) says:
If we enquire as to the real foundations for such an order of
things, if we try and discover the reasons which forced our prim
itive forefathers, and s till oblige modern savages, to maintain
a more or less sharply expressed communism, we shall have in
particular to learn the prim itive modes of production. For the
distribution and consumption of wealth must be determined by
the methods of its creation. And as to this, ethnography state#
the following: hunting and fishing peoples secure their food as
a rule in hordes.... In Australia the kangaroo is hunted by armed
detachments of several tens, and even hundreds, of natives. The
same takes place in northern countries when hunting the rein
deer.... I t is beyond doubt that man is incapable of maintaining
his existence alone; he needs help and support, and his forces
are m ultiplied tenfold by association.... Thus we see social pro
duction at the beginning of social development and, as the neces
sary natural consequence of this, social consumption. Ethno
graphy abounds in facts which prove this. *
*
M. Kovalevsky, Tableau des origines et de I'ei'olution de la f(imillf
de la propriety, Stockholm, 1890, pp. 52-53. The late N. Siebers OutlM**
oi Primitive Economic Culture contains numerous facts demonstrating
the utmost clarity that modes of appropriation are determined by iiwuu*

production.
THE DEVELOPMENT OK THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O RY 599
H aving quoted the idealist theory of Lerm ina , 118 according

to which private property arises from the self-consciousness of
the in div id u al, Mr. Kovalevsky continues:
No, this is not so. It is not for this reason that prim itive man
arrives at the idea of tho personal appropriation of the chipped stone
which serves him as a weapon, or of the skin which covers his
body. He arrives at this idea in consequence of the application
of his in div id u al forces to the production of the object concerned.
The flint which serves him as an axe has been chipped by his
own hands. At the hunt in which he engaged together with many
comrades, he struck the final blow at the anim al, and therefore
the skin of that animal becomes his personal property. The custom
ary law of savages is distinguished by great exactness on this
question. I t carefully provides beforehand, for example, for the
case in which the hunted anim al fell under the jo int blows of two
hunters: in that event the an im a ls skin becomes the property of
the hunter whose arrow penetrated nearest to the heart. It also
provides for the case in which an already wounded anim al was
given the finishing blow by a hunter who turned up accidentally.
The application of in d iv id u a l labour logically gives rise, conse
quently, to individual appropriation. We can trace this phenom
enon through all history. He who planted a fruit tree becomes
its owner__ Later a warrior who won a certain booty becomes
its exclusive owner, so that his fam ily no longer has any right to
it. In just the same way a priest's fam ily has no right to the
sacrifices which are made by the faithful, and which become his
personal property. A ll this is equally well confirmed by the
Indian laws and by the customary law of the South Slavs, Don
Cossacks or ancient Irish. And it is im portant not to make any
mistake as to the true principle of such appropriation, which is
the result of the application of personal effort to the procuring
of a definite object. For when the personal efforts of a man are
supplemented by the help of his kin ... the objects secured no
longer become private property.*
After all that lias been said, it w ill be comprehensible why
it is arms, clothes, food, adornments, etc., that first become
objects of personal appropriation. Already from the first steps
taken, the domestication of anim alsdogs, horses, cats, working
cattleconstitutes the most im portant fund of personal and fam ily
appropriation....** But to what extent the organisation of pro
duction continues to influence the modes of appropriation is shown,
for example, by such a fact: among the Eskimos the hunting of
whales takes place in big boats and big detachments, and the
hoats which serve for this purpose represent social property. But
* Ibid., p. 95.
600
G. P LEK H A N O V
the little boats which serve for transporting tho objects of family
property themselves belong to separate families, or at most to
three kindred families .
W ith the appearance of agriculture, the land also becomes an
object of appropriation. The subjects of property in land become
more or less large unions of kindred. This, naturally, is one of the
forms of social appropriation. IIow is its origin to be explained?
It seems to us, says Mr. Kovalevsky, that its reasons lie in
that same social production which once upon a time involved tbo
appropriation of the greater part of movable objects.*
N aturally, once it has arisen, private property enters into con
tradiction to the more ancient mode of social appropriation.
Wherever the rapid development of productive forces opens a
wider and wider field for individual efforts , social production
fairly rapidly disappears, or continues to exist in the shape, so to
speak, of a rudimentary institution. We shall see later on that
this process of the disintegration of prim itive social property at
various times and in various places through the most natural,
material necessity, was bound to be marked by great variety.
At present we w ill only stress the general conclusion of the modern
science of law that legal conceptionsor convictions, as Puchta
would have s aid are everywhere determined by the modes of
production.
Schelling said on one occasion that the phenomenon of
magnetism must be understood as the embedding of the subjec
tive" in the objective". A ll attempts to discover an idealist ex
planation for the history of law represent 110 more than a supple
ment, a Seitensliick , to idealist natural philosophy. It amounts
always to the same, sometimes b rilliant and ingenious, but always
arbitrary and always groundless m editations, 011 the theme of the
self-sufficing, self-developing spirit.
Legal conviction could not precede everyday practice for this
one reason alone that, if it had not grown out of that practice, it
would have no reason for existence whatsoever. The Eskimo stands
for the personal appropriation of clothes, arms and implements of
labour for the simple reason that such appropriation is much more
convenient, and is suggested by the very qualities of the things in
volved. In order to learn the proper use of his weapon, his bow or
his boomerang, the prim itive hunter must adapt himself to it,
study all its in d iv id u a l peculiarities, and if possible adapt it
to bis own in d iv id u a l peculiarities.** Private property here is in
* Ib id ., p. 93.
** It is known that the intimate connection between the hunter and his
weapon exists in all primitive tribes. Der Jager darf sich keiner frem den
Waflcn bedienen |"Tne hunter must not make useof a strangers weapons. 1*
says Martius of the primitive inhabitants of Brazil, explaining at the same
THE DEVELOPMENT OF T H E MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 60f
the nature of things much more than any other form of appro
priation, and therefore the savage is convinced of its advantages:
as we know, he even attributes to the implements of individual
labour and to arms some kind of mysterious connection w ith their
owner. But his conviction grew up on the basis of everyday prac
tice, and did not precede it: and it owes its origin, not to the q u a li
ties of his spirit , but to the qualities of the articles which lie is
using, and to the character of those modes of production which
are inevitable for him in the existing state of his productive
forces.
To what extent everyday practice precedes legal conviction"
is shown by the numerous symbolic acts existing in prim itive law.
The modes of production have changed, w ith them have likewise
changed the m utual relations of men in the process of production,
everyday practice has changed, yet conviction has retained its
old shape. It contradicts the new practice, and so fictions appear,
symbolic signs and actions, the sole purpose of which is formally
to elim inate this contradiction. In the course of time the contra
diction is at last elim inated in an essential way: ori the basis of
the new economic practice a new legal conviction lakes shape.
It is not sufficient to register the appearance, in a given society,
of private property in this or that object, to be able thereby to
determine the character of that institution. Private property
always has lim its which depend entirely on the economy of society.
In the savage state man appropriates only the things which are
directly useful to him . The surplus, even though it is acquired by
the labour of his hands, he usually gives up gratuitously to others:
to members of his fam ily, or of his clan, or of his tribe says Mr.
Kovalevsky. R in k says exactly the same about the Eskimos .419
But whence did such ways arise apiong the savage peoples? In
the words of Mr. Kovalevsky, they owe their origin to the fact
that savages are not acquainted w ith saving.* This is not a very
clear expression, and is particularly unsatisfactory because it
time whence these savages derived such a conviction: "Besondors behaupten dieienigen Wilden, die m it dem Blasrohr schiessen, dass dieses Geschoss
durch den Gehrauch eines Fremden verdorben werdc, und geben es nicht aus
ihren Ilanden. ( Von dem Rechtszustande unter den Ureinwohnern Brasil tens,
Miinchen, 1832, S. 50.) ( In particular these savages who shoot with a blow
pipe, insist that this weapon is spoiled when used by a strauger, and don t
allow it out of their hands. E d.) "Die Fiihning diescr Wal'fen (Ikiws and
arrows) erfordert eine grosse Geschicklichkeit und bestandige Uebung.
o sie bei wilden Volkern im Gebrauche sind, berichten uns die Reisenl!11, dass schon die Knnben sich m il Kindcrgcraten im Schiessen
uben. (Oscar leschel, VSlkerkunde, Leipzig, 1875, S. lflO.) [ The use of these
^ a p o n s (bows and arrows) requires great skill and constant practice. Where
they are in use among savage peoples, we are told by travellers, the boys
already practise shooting with toy weapons.]
* Loc. cit., p. 56.
(102
G. P LEK HA N O V
was very much abused l>y lhe vulgar economists. Nevertheless,

it can he understood in what sense our author uses the expression.
Saving is really unknown to prim itive peoples, for the simple
reason lhat it is inconvenient and, one may say, impossible for
them to practise it. The flesh of an anim al that has been killed can
be saved only to an inconsiderable extent: it goes bad, and then
becomes quite unsuitable for use. Of course, if it could be sold,
it would be very easy to save the money got for it. But money
does not yet exist at this stage of economic development. Conse
quently, the economy of prim itive society itself fixes narrow
lim its w ithin which the spirit of thrift can develop. Moreover,
today 1 was lucky enough lo k ill a big anim al, and I shared its
meat with others, but tomorrow (hunting is an uncertain business)
1 w ill return w ith empty hands, and others of my kin w ill share
their booty with me. The custom of sharing thus appears as some
thing in the nature of m utual insurance, w ithout which the ex
istence of hunting tribes would be quite impossible.
Finally, one must not forget that private properly among such
tribes exists only in an embryo form, while the prevailing prop
erty is social. The habits and customs which have grown up on
this basis, in their turn, set lim its to the arbitrary w ill of the
owner of private property. Conviction, here too, follows economy.
The connection of the legal conceptions of men w ith their
economic life is well illustrated by the example which Rodbertus
readily and frequently used in his works. It is well known lhat
the ancient Roman writers energetically protested against usury.
Cato the Censor considered that a usurer w'as twice as bad as h
thief (that was just what the old man said: exactly twice). In
this respect the Fathers of the Christian Church were completely
al one w ith the heathen writers. B u ta remarkable fa c tboth
revolted only against interest produced by money capital. But
to loans in kind, and to lhe surplus which they brought, there was
an incomparably milder altitude. W hy this difference? Because
it was precisely money or usurers capital that was effecting
terrible devastations in society at thal time: because it was precise
ly this that was ruining Ita ly " . Legal conviction , here too,
went hand-in-hand with economy.
Law is the pure product of necessity or, more exactly, of nee<L
says Post. In vain should we seek in it any ideal basis whatso
ever.* We should say thal this was quite in the spirit of thi
most modern science of law, if our scholar did not display a fairly
considerable confusion of conceptions, very harmful in its co"
sequences.
*
Dr. Albert Hermunn Post, Der Ursprutig des Rechts. P rolegom eno
* tn e r a llg e m e in en vergleichenden Jiechtswtssenschaft, Oldenburg, 187(1, S. -
THE DEVELOPMENT OK THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 603
Speaking generally, every social union strives to work out sucli

a system of law as would best satisfy its needs and would be most
useful for it at the given time. The circumstance that the partic
ular sum-total of legal institutions is useful or harmful for society
cannot in any wray depend on the qualities of any idea" w hat
soever, from whomsoever the idea m ight come; it depends, as
we have seen, on the modes of production and on those m utual rela
tions between people which are created by those modes. 1 11 this sense
law lias not and cannot have any ideal foundations, as its foun
dations are always real. But the real foundations of every given
system of lawr do not exclude an ideal attitude towards that system
on the part of the members of the given society. Taken as a whole,
society only gains from such an attitude of its members towards
tliat system. On the contrary, in its transitional epochs, when the
system of law existing in society no longer satisfies its needs,
which have grown in consequence of the further development of
productive forces, the advanced part of the population can and
must idealise a new system of institutions, more in keeping w ith
the spirit of the time . French literature is full of examples of
such an idealisation of the new advancing order of things.
The origin of law in need" excludes an ideal" basis of law only
in the conception of those people who are accustomed to relegate
need to the sphere of crude matter, and to contrast this sphere to
the pure spirit , foreign to need of every kind. In reality, only
that is ideal which is useful to men, and every society in work
ing out its ideals is guided only by its needs. The seeming excep
tions from this incontestably general rule are explained by the
fact, that, in consequence of the development of society, its ideals
frequently lag behind its new nqeds.*
The realisation of the dependence of social relations on the
slate of productive forces is penetrating more and more into mod
ern social science, in spite of the inevitable eclecticism of many
scientists and in spite of their idealist prejudices. Just as com
parative anatomy has raised to the level of a scientific truth the
Latin proverb that from the claws I recognise the lio n ', so the
*
Post belongs to the category of those people who have far from parted
" ith idealism yet. Thus, for example, he shows that the union of kindred
corresponds to hunting and nomad society, and that with the appearance
of agriculture and the stable settlement bound up with it, the union of k in
dred yields place to Gaugenossenschaft (wo should call it the neighbourommunity). It would seem clear that the man is seeking the key to the
t'A'planation of the history of social relations in nothing else than the devel
opment of productive forces. In individual cases Post is almost always true
o such a principle. But this does not prevent him regarding itn Menschen
^huflend ewigen Geist ( the Eternal Spirit creating in Man . Ed.) as the
nwdaniental cause of the history of law. This man has been, as it were,
sI"-cial|y created in order to delight Mr. Kareyev.
604
G. P LEK HA N O V
study of peoples can from the armament of a particular people

form an exact conclusion as to the degree of its civilisation,
says Oscar Peschel, whom we have already quoted.*... W ith the
mode of procuring food is bound up most in tim ate ly the dissection
of society. Wherever man joins w ith man a certain authority
appears. Weakest of all are the social ties among the wandering
hunter hordes of Brazil. But they have to defend their areas and
need at least a m ilitary chief.... The pastoral tribes are for the most
part under the authority of patriarchal sovereigns, as the herds
belong as a rule to a single master, who is served by his fellowtribesmen or by previously independent but later impoverished
possessors of herds. The pastoral form of life is mostly, though not
exclusively, characterised by great migrations of peoples, both
in the north of the Old W orld and in South Africa; on the oilier
hand, the history of America knows only of in divid ual attacks by
w ild hunter tribes on the fields of civilised peoples which attract
them. Entire peoples which leave their previous places of habita
tion could make great and prolonged journeys only when accom
panied by their herds, which provided them w ith the necessary
food on their way. Furthermore, prairie cattle-breeding itself
impels a change of pastures. But w ith the settled mode of life
and agriculture there appears the striving to make use of the
labour of slaves Slavery leads sooner or later to tyranny, sine
he who has the largest number of slaves can with their help subject,
the weakest to his w ill The division into free men and slaves is
Ihe beginning of the division of society into estates.**
Peschel has many considerations of this kind. Some of them
are quite just and very instructive; others are debatable" for
more than Mr. M ikhailovsky. B ut what we are concerned with
here are not particular details but the general direction of Pschels thought. And that general direction completely coincides
w ith what we have already seen in the work of Mr. Kovalevsky:
it is in the modes of production, in the state of the productive forces,
that he seeks the explanation of the history of law and even of the whole
organisation of society.
And this is precisely what Marx long ago and insistently advised
writers on social science to do. And in this lies to a consider
able extent, though not completely (the reader w ill see later
why we say: not completely), the sense of that remarkable pre
Loc. cit., p. 13!). When we were making this extract, we imaging'*

Mr. Mikhailovsky quickly rising in his seat, crying: "1 tind this d e b a i n l i l ' "
the Chinese may be armed with English rifles. Can one on the basis o lth e s fr
rifles judge of I he degree of their civilisation? Very well asked, Mr. Mikhaj"
lovsky: from English rifles it. is not logical to draw conclusions about Chines*
civilisation. It is of English civilisation thal one must judge from llteiu** Loc. cit., pp. 252-53.
face to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy which

hart such bad luck here in Russia, which was so terribly and so
strangely misunderstood by the m ajority of Russian writers who
read it in the original or in extracts.
In the social production of their life, men enter into definite
relations that are indispensable and independent of their w ill,
relations of production which correspond to a definite stage of
development of their material productive forces. The sum-total
of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure
of society, the real foundation, on which rises a legal and p o lit
ical superstructure . . . . *30
Hegel says of Schelling that the fundam ental principles of the
system of that philosopher romain undeveloped, and his absolute
spirit appears unexpectedly, like a pistol-shot (wie aus der Pistole
goschossen). When the average Russian intellectual hears that
in Ylarx everything is reduced to the economic foundation
(others say sim ply: to the economic), he loses his head, as though
someone had suddenly fired a pistol by his ear. But why to the
economic? he asks dejectedly and'uncomprehendingly. Of course
the economic is also im portant (especially for the poor peasants
and workmen). But after all, no less im portant is the intellectual
(particularly for us intellectuals). W hat has just been set forth
has, we hope, shown the reader that the perplexity of the average
Russian intellectual occurs in this case only because he, that intel
lectual, was always a little careless about what was particularly
important intellectually for himself. When Marx said that the
anatomy of civil society is to be sought in political economy , he
did not at a ll intend to upset the world of learning by sudden
pistol-shots: he was only giving
direct and exact reply to the
damned questions which had tormented thinking heads for a
whole century.
The French materialists, consistently developing their sensa
tionalist views, came to the conclusion that man, w ith all his
thoughts, feelings and aspirations, is the product of his social
environment. In order to go further in applying the materialist
view to the study of man, it was necessary lo solve the problem
of what conditions the structure of the social environment, and
what aru the laws of its development. The French materialists
weri> unable to reply to this question, and thereby were forced
to ho falso to themselves and return to the old idealist point of
view which they had so strongly condemned: they said that en
vironment is created by the opinion of men. Dissatisfied w ith
l his superficial reply, the French historians of the Restoration
themselves the task of analysing social environment. The
esult of their analysis was the conclusion, extremely im portant
or science, that political constitutions are rooted in social
606
G. P LEK HA N O V
relations, while social relations are determined by tho state

of property. W ith this conclusion there arose before science
a new problem, w ithout solving which il could not proceed:
what then determines the state of property? The solution of this
problem proved to be beyond the powers of the French histo
rians of the Restoration, and they were obliged to dismiss
it w ith remarks on the q\ialities of human nature which
explained absolutely nothing at all. The great idealists of Ger
m anySchelling and Ilegelwho were their contemporaries in
life and work, already well understood how unsatisfactory was
the point of view of human nature: Ilegel made caustic fun of il.
They understood thal the key to Ihe explanation of the historical
advance of hum anity must be sought outside human nature. Tliis
was a great service which they rendered: but in order that that
service should prove completely fruitful for science, it was neces
sary to show where precisely that key should be sought. They looked
for it in the qualities of the spirit, in the logical laws of development
of the absolute idea. This was a radical error of the great idealists,
which returned them by roundabout ways lo the point of view of
human nature, since the absolute idea, as we have already seen,
is nothing else than the personification of our logical process of
thought. The discovery of the genius of Marx corrects lliis radical
error of idealism, thereby inflicting on it a deadly blow: tlie state
of property, and w ith it all the qualities of the social environment
(we saw in the chapter on idealist philosophy lhat Iiegel, too,
was forced to recognise the decisive importance of the state of
properly) are determined, not by the qualities of the absolute
spirit and not by the character of human nature, but l>y those
m utual relations into which men of necessity enter one w ith anolher
in the social production of their life , i. e., in their struggle for
existence. Marx has often been compared w ith Danvin a com
parison which arouses Messrs. M ikhailovsky, Kareyev and their
fraternity to laughter. Later we shall say in what sense lhat. com
parison should be understood, although probably m any readers
already see it w ithout our help. Here we shall permit ourselves,
w ith all due respect to our subjective thinkers, another compar
ison .
Before Copernicus, astronomy taught thal the earth is a
tionloss centre, around which revolve Ihe sun and Ihe ot her celes
tial bodies. This view made it impossible to explain very many
phenomena of celestial mechanics. The Polish genius a p p r o a c h e d
their explanation from quite the opposite point of view: he pre
supposed that it was nol the sun that revolves around Ihe e a r t h *
but on the contrary the earth around the sun. The correct vie'v
had been discovered, and much became clear that bad been h11
clear before Copernicus.
T IIE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y W)7
Before Marx, writers on social science had laken human nature

as their point of departure, and thanks to this, Ilu- most im por
tant questions of human development had remained unanswered.
Marx's teaching gave affairs quite a different I urn: while m an ,
to m aintain his existence, acts on the external world, he changes his
own nature ,421 said Marx. Consequently the scientific explanation
of historical development should be begun at the opposite end:
it is necessary to ascertain in what way does this process of the
productive action of man on external nature take place. In its great
importance for science, this discovery can be boldly placed on a
par with that of Copernicus, and on a par w ith the greatest and
most fruitful discoveries of science in general.
Strictly speaking, previous to Marx social science had much
less in the way of a finn foundation than astronomy before Coper
nicus. The French used lo call, and still call, ail the sciences
bearing on human society, sciences morales et politiques as
distinct from sciences in the strict sense of the word, under
which name were understood, and are still understood, only the
exact sciences. And it must be admitted that, before Marx, social
science was not and could not be exact. So long as learned men
appealed to human nature as to the highest authority, of necessity
they had to explain the social relations of men by their views,
\hc\r conscious activity, but the conscious acliv ity of man necessar
ily has to present itself to him us free activity. But free activity
excludes the conception of necessity, i.e., of conformity to law;
and conformity to law is the necessary foundation of any scientific
explanation of phenomena. The idea of freedom obscured the con
ception of necessity, and thereby hindered the development of science.
This aberration can up to the present day he observed with amaz
ing clarity in the sociological" works of subjective Russian
writers.
But we already know that freedom must be necessary. By obscur
ing the conception of necessity, the idea of freedom itself became
extremely dim and a very poor comfort. Driven out al the door,
necessity flew in at the window; starting from their idea of free
dom. investigators every moment came up against necessity, and
Jn the long run arrived at the melancholy recognition of its fatal,
'resistible and utterly invincible action. To their horror, freedom
proved to be an eternally helpless and hopeless tributary, an
impotent plaything in the hands of blind necessity. And truly
Pftthelic was the despair which at, times seized upon the clearest
j*nd most generous idealistic minds. For several days now 1 have
been taking up m y pen every minute," says Georg Buchner, but
cannot write a word. I have been studying the history of the
Involution. I have fell myself crushed, as it were, by the frighl*ul fatalism of history. 1 see in human nature the most repulsive
08
G. P LEK HA N O V
dullness, but in human relations an invincible force, which belongs

to all in general and to no one in particular. The in divid u a l per
sonality is only foam on the crest of tho wave, greatness is only
an accident , the power of genius is only a puppet-show, a ridic
ulous attempt to fight against iron law, which at best can only
be discovered, but which it is impossible to subject to ones
w ill. * It may be said that, to avoid such bursts of what naturally
was quite legitimate despair, it was worth while even for a time
abandoning ones old point of view, and attem pting to liberate
freedom, by appealing to that same necessity which made a mock
of her. It was necessary once again to review the question which
had already been put by the dialectical idealists, as to whether
freedom does not follow from necessity, and whether the latter does
not constitute the only firm foundation, the only stable guarantee
and inevitable condition of human freedom.
We shall see to what such an attempt led Marx. But as a prelim
inary let us try and clear up for ourselves his historical views,
so that no misunderstandings should remain in our minds on that
subject.
On the basis of a particular state of the productive forces there
come into existence certain relations of production, which receive
their ideal expression in the legal notions of men and in more or
less abstract rules , in unwritten customs and written laws. We
110 longer require to demonstrate this: as we have seen, tho pres
ent-day science of law demonstrates it for us (lot the reader
remember what Mr. Kovalevsky says on this subject). But it
w ill do no harm if we examine the question from the following
different point of view. Once we have ascertained in what way
the legal notions of men are created by their relations in production,
we shall not be surprised by the following words of Marx: It is
not the consciousness of men that determines their being (i.e., the
form of their social existence), but, on the contrary, their social
being that determines their consciousness. 422 Now we know already
that at least in relation to one sphere of consciousness this is really
so, and why it is so. We have only to decide whether it is always
so, and. if the answer is in the affirmative, why it is always so?
Let us keep for the time being to the same legal notions.
At a certain stage of their development, the material pro
ductive forces of society come in conflict w ith the existing rela
tions of production, or what is but a legal expression for the
same th in g w ith the property relations w ithin which they have
been at work hitherto. From forms of development of the produc
*
In a letter to his betrothed, written in 1833. Footnote for Mr.
lovsky: This is not the Buchner who preached materialism in the general
philosophical sense : it is his brother, who died young, the author of a famous
tragedy, The Death of Danlon.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y H09
tive forces these relations turn into their fetters. Then begins an
epoch of social revolution . 423
Social ownership of movable and immovable property arises
because it is convenient and moreover necessary for the process
of prim itive production. I t maintains the existence of prim itive
society, it facilitates the further development of its productive
forces, and men cling to it, they consider it natural and necessary.
But now, thanks to those property relations and within them, the
productive forces have developed to such an extent that a wider
field has opened for the application of in d iv id u a l efforts. Now
social property becomes in some cases harmful for society, it
impedes the further development of its productive forces, and
therefore it yields place to personal appropriation: a more or less
rapid revolution takes place in the legal institutions of society.
This revolution necessarily is accompanied by a revolution in
the legal conceptions of men: people who thought previously that
only social property was good, now began to th in k that in some
cases in d iv id u a l appropriation was better. But no, we are express
ing it inaccurately, we are representing as two separate processes
what is completely inseparable, what represents only two sides of
one and the same process: in consequence of the development of the
productive forces, the actual relations of men in the process of pro
duction were bound to change, and these new de facto relations expressed
themselves in new legal notions.
Mr. Kareyev assures us that materialism is just as one-sided in
its application to history as idealism. Each represents, in his
opinion, only a moment in tho development of complete scien
tific truth. After the first arid second moments must come a third
moment: the one-sidednoss of the thesis and that of the antithesis
w ill find their application in the synthesis, as the expression of
the complete truth.* It w ill be a most interesting synthesis. In
what that synthesis w ill consist, I shall not for the time being
say, tho professor adds. A pity! Fortunately, our historiosophist
does not very strictly observe this vow of silence which he has
imposed upon himself. He immediately gives us to understand
in what w ill consist and whence w ill arise thal complete scien
tific truth which w ill, in tim e, be understood by all enlightened
hum anity, but for the time being is known only to Mr. Kareyev.
It will grow out of the following considerations: Every human
personality, consisting of body and soul, leads a twofold life
physical and psychical appearing before us neither exclusively
as flesh with its material requirements, nor exclusively as spirit
with its intellectual and moral requirements. Both tho body and
the soul of man have their requirements, which seek satisfaction
*
Vestnik Yevropy, Ju ly 1894, p. 6.
39-01329
610
G. P LEKHANOV
and which place tho individual personality in different relation

ships to the external world, i.e., to nature and to other men, i . 0
to society, and these relationships are of a twofold character."*
That man consists of soul and hody is a just synthesis", though
hardly what one would call a very new discovery. If Mr. Irofpssor
is acquainted w ith the history of modern philosophy, he must know
that it has been breaking its teeth on this same synthesis for whole
centuries, and has not been able to cope with it properly. And if
he imagines that this synthesis w ill reveal to him the essence
of the historical process , Mr. V. V. w ill have to agree that some
thing is going wrong w ith his professor , and that it is not Mr.
Kareyev who is destined to become the Spinoza of historiosophy.
W ith the development of the productive forces, which lead to
changes in the m utual relationships of men in the social process
of production, there change all properly relations. But it was
already Guizot who told us that political constitutions are routed
in property relations. This is fully confirmed by modern knowl
edge. The union of kindred yields place to the territorial union
precisely on account of the changes which arise in property rela
tions. More or less im portant territorial unions amalgamate in
organisms called states, again in consequence of changes which
have taken place in property relations, or in consequence of new
requirements of the social process of production. This has been
excellently demonstrated, for example, in relation to the large
states of the E ast.** E qually well this has been explained in
relation to the states of the ancient world.*** And, speaking gen
erally, it is not difficult to demonstrate the truth of this for any
particular state 011 whoso origin we have sufficient information,
la doing so we only need not to narrow, consciously or unconscious
ly, M arxs view. W hat we mean is this.
The particular state of productive forces conditions the inter
nal relations of the given society. But the same state of the produc
tive forces also conditions Its external relations with other societies.
On the basis of these external relations, society forms new require
ments, to satisfy which new organs arise. At a superficial glance, the
m utual relations of individual societies present themselves as a
* Ibid., p. 7.
** See the book of the late L. Mechnikov on the great historical rivers
In this book the author in essence nnly summarised the conclusions arrived
a t by the most authoritative specialist historians, such as Lenormant. Elisec
Meelus says in his introduction to the bonk that Mechnikovs view will
mark an epoch in the history of science. This is untrue, in the sense that
the view is not a new one: Hegel expressed it in the most definite way.
But undoubtedly science w ill gain a great deal if it consistently adheres te
that view.
*** See Morgans Ancient Society ami Engels hook, The Origin ol the
Family, Private Property and the State.
series of political acts, having no direct bearing on economics.

In reality, what underlies relations between societies is precisely
economics, which determines both the real (not only external)
causes of inter-tribal and international relations, and their results.
To each stage in the development of the productive forces corre
sponds its own particular system of armament, its m ilitary tactics,
its diplomacy, its international law. Of course many cases may
lie pointed out in which international conflicts have no direct
relationship with economics. And none of the followers of Marx
w ill dream of disputing the existence of such cases. A ll they say
is: dont stop at the surface of phenomena, go down deeper, ask
yourself on what basis did this international law grow up? W hat
created the possibility of international conflicts of this kind?
And what you w ill arrive at in the long run is economics. True,
the examination of individual cases is made more difficult by the
fact that not infrequently the conflicting societies are going through
dissimilar phases of economic development.
But at this point we are interrupted by a chorus of shrewd oppo
nents. Very well, they cry. Let us adm it that political rela
tions are rooted in economic relations. But once political relations
have been given, then, wherever they came from, they, in turn,
influence economics. Consequently, there is interaction here,
and nothing but interaction.
This objection has not been invented by us. The high value
placed upon it by opponents of economic materialism is shown
by the following fact.
Marx in his Capital cites facts which show that the English
aristocracy used the political power to achieve its own ends in
the sphere of landownership. Dr. Paul Barth, who wrote a critical
essay entitled Die Geschichtsphilosophie Hegel's und der Hegelianer,
has seized on this to reproach Mane w ith contradicting himself1*5:
you yourself, he says, adm it that there is interaction here: and
to prove that interaction really exists, our doctor refers to the
book of Sternegg, a writer who has done much for the study of the
economic history of Germany. Mr. Kareyev thinks that the
pages devoted in B arths book to the criticism of economic mate
rialism may be recommended as a model of how the problem of the
role of the economic factor in history should be solved . NaturHlly, he has not failed to point out to his readers Ihe objections
raised by Barth and the authoritative statement, of Inama-Sternt*Kg, who even formulates the general proposition that interaction
between politics and economy is the fundamental characteristic
the development of all states and peoples . We must bring at
least a little light into this muddle.
First of all, what does Inama-Sternegg actually say? On the
subject of the Carolingian period in the economic history of Gor39*
612
G. P LEK HA N O V
many he makes the following remark: The interaction between

politics and economics which constitutes the main feature of devel
opment of all states and all peoples can be traced hero in the
most exact fashion. As always the political role which falls to the
lot of a given people exercises a decisive influence on the further
development of its forces, on the structure and elaboration of its
social institutions; on the other hand, the internal strength innate
in a people and the natural law's of its development determine
the measure and the nature of its political activity. In precisely
this way the political system of the Carolings no less influenced
the changing of the social order and the development of the eco
nomic relations in which the people lived at that time than the
elemental forces of the people its economic life influenced the
direction of that political system, leaving on the latter its own
peculiar im print. * And th a ts all. I t s not very much; but this
is thought sufficient to refute Marx.
Now let us recall, in the second place, what Marx says about
the relations between economics on the one hand, and law and
politics on the other.
Legal and political institutions are formed on the basis of the
actual relations of men in the social process of production. For
a time those institutions facilitate the further development of the
productive forces of a people, the prosperity of its economic life.
Those are the exact words of Marx; and wo ask the first conscien
tious man we meet, do these words contain any denial of the im
portance of political relations in economic development, and is
Marx refuted by those who remind him of that importance? Is
it not true that there is not a trace of any such denial in Marx,
and the people just mentioned are refuting nothing at all? To
such an extent is it true that one has to consider the queslion,
not of whether Marx has been refuted, but of why he was so badly
understood? And to this question we can reply only w ith the
French proverb: la plus belle fille du monde ne peut donner que
ce q u elle a (the most beautiful girl in the world can only give
what she has g o t. Ed.). The critics of Marx cannot surpass the
measure of understanding with which a bountiful Nature has
endowed them .**
*
Deutsche Wtrtschaftsgeschichte bis zum Schluss der Karolingenperiode,
Leipzig, 1889, Band I, S. 233-34.
*
* Marx says that every class struggle is a political struggle . Consequently,
concludes Barth, politics In your opinion does not influence economics at all,
yet you yourself quote facts proving ... etc. Bravo, exclaims Mr. Kareyev^
that s what I call a model of how one ought to argue with Marx! The model
of Mr. Kareyev displays a remarkable power of thought altogether. "Rous
seau, says the model, lived in a society where class distinctions and privi
leges were carried to the extreme, where all were subjected to an all-powerful
despotism; and yet the method of the rational structure of the state borrowed
THE D EVELOPMEN T OF T H E MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 613
Interaction between politics and economics exists: that is

just as unquestionable as the fact that Mr. Kareyev does not under
stand Marx. But does the existence of interaction prohibit us
from going further in our analysis of the life of society? No, to
think that would mean almost the same as to imagine that the
lack of understanding displayed by Mr. Kareyev can prevent
us from attaining correct historiosophical conceptions.
Political institutions influence economic life. They either facil
itate its development or impede it. The first case is in no way
surprising from the point of view of Marx, because the given
political system has been created for the very purpose of promoting
the further development, of the productive forces (whether it is con
sciously or unconsciously created is in this case all one to us).
The second case does not in any way contradict Marxs point of
view, because historical experience shows that once a given polit
ical system ceases to correspond to the state of the productive
forces, once it is transformed into an obstacle to their further
development, it begins to decline and finally is elim inated. Far
from contradicting the teachings of Marx, this case confirms
them in the best possible way, because it is this case that shows
in what sense economics dominates politics, in what way the
development of productive forces outdistances the political devel
opment of a people.
Economic evolution brings in its wake legal revolutions. It
is not easy for a metaphysician to understand this because, al
though he does shout about interaction, he is accustomed to examine
phenomena one after another, and one independently of another.
But it w ill be understood w ithout difficulty by anyone who is in
the least capable of dialectical thinking. lie knows that quanti
tative changes, accumulating gradually, lead in the end to changes
of quality, and that these changes of quality represent leaps, inter
ruptions in gradualness.
At this point our opponents can stand it no longer, and pro
nounce their word and deed426: why, th a ts how Hegel used
to talk, they shout. T hats how a ll Nature acts, we reply.
from a ntiq uity the method which was also used by Hobbes and Locke
led Rousseau to create an ideal of society based on universal equality and
popular self-government. This ideal completely contradicted the order
existing in France. Rousseaus theory was carried out in practice by the
Convention; consequently, philosophy influenced politics, and through it
economics {toe. cit., p. 58). How do you like this brilliant argument, to
serve which Rousseau, the son of a poor Genevese Republican, turns out
to be the product of aristocratical society? To refute Mr. Barth means to
repeat oneself. But what are we to say of Mr. Kareyev, who applauds Barth?
Ah, Mr. V. V., your professor of history is poor stuff, really he is. We advise
you quite disinterested Iy: lind yourself a new professor .
614
G. P LEKHANOV
"1
A title is soon told, but work goes more slowly. In its applica
tion to history, this proverb may be altered in this way: a tale
is told very sim ply, but work is complex in the extreme. Yes, i t s
easy to say lhat the development of productive forces brings in
its train revolutions in legal institutions. These revolutions
represent complex processus, in the course of which tho interests
of individual members of society group themselves in the most,
whimsical fashion. For some i l is profitable to support the old
order, and they defend it with every resource at their command.
For others the old order has becorno already harm ful and hateful,
and they attack it w ith all the strength at their disposal. And
this is nol all. The intorests of the innovators arc also far from
sim ilar in all cases: for some one set of reforms is more impor
tant. for others another set. Disputes arise in the camp of the
reformers itself, and the struggle becomes more complicated. And
although, as Mr. Kareyev so justly remarks, man consists of soul
and body, the struggle for the most indisputably material inter
ests necessarily raises before the disputing sides the most un
doubtedly spiritual problem of justice. To what extent does old
order contradict justice? To what extent are the new demands in
keeping with justice? These questions inevitably arise in the
minds of those who are contesting, although they w ill not always
call it simply justice, but may personify it in the shape of some
goddess in hum an, or even in anim al shape. Thus, notwithstand
ing the injunction pronounced by Mr. Kareyev, the body gives
birth to the soul : the economic struggle arouses moral questions
ami the soul at closer examination proves to be the body.
The justice of the old believers not infrequently turns out to be
the interests of the exploiters.
Those very same people who, with such astounding inventive
ness, attribute to Marx the denial of the significance of politics
assert that he attached no significance whatsoever to the moral,
philosophical, religious or aesthetic conceptions of men, every
where and anywhere seeing only the economic. This once again
is unnatural chatter, as Shchedrin put it. Marx did not deny tho
significance" of all these conceptions, hut only ascertained whencc
they came.
What is electricity? A particular form of motion. W hat is
heat? A particular form of motion. W hat is light? A particular
form of motion. Oh, so th a ts it. So you dont attach any meaning
either to light, or to heat, or to electricity. It's all one motion
for you; what one-sidedness, what narrowness of conception.
Just so, gentlemen, narrowness is the word. You have understood
perfectly the meaning of the doctrine of the transformation of
energy.
Every given stage of development of the productive forces
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y fi!5
necessarily involves definite grouping of men in the social process

of production, i.e., definite relations of production, i.e., a definite
structure of the whole of society. Hut once the structure of society
has been given, it is not difficult to understand that the character
of that structure will he reflected generally in the entire psychology
of men, in all their habits, manners, feelings, views, aspirations
and ideals, lla h its, manners, views, aspirations and ideals w ill
necessarily have to adapt themselves to mens way of life, to
Iheir mode of procuring their subsistence (lo use Peschels expres
sion). The psychology of society is always expedient in relation to
its economy, always corresponds to it, is always determined by it.
The same phenomenon is repeated here which the Greek philos
ophers themselves noticed in nature: expediency triumphs, for
the reason that thal which is inexpedient is by its very character
doomed to perish. Is it advantageous for society, in its struggle
for existence, that I here should be this adaptation of its psychol
ogy to its economy, lo the conditions of life? Very advantageous,
because habits and views which did not correspond to its economy
and which contradicted lhe conditions of existence would inter
fere with the maintenance of that existence. An expedient psy
chology is just as useful for society as organs which are well fitted
for their task are useful for the organism. But to say that the
organs of animals must be appropriate to the conditions of their
existencedoes that mean the same as saying thal the organs
have no .significance for the anim al? Quite the contrary. It means
recognising their colossal and essential significance. O nly very
weak heads could understand matters otherwise. Now the same,
the very same, gentlemen, is the case w ilh psychology. Recognis
ing that it adapts itself to the economy of society, Marx thereby
was recognising its vast and irreplaceable significance.
The difference between Marx and, for example, Mr. Kareyev
reduces itself in this case to the fact lhat the latter, in spite of
his inclination to synthesis, remains a dualist of the purest
water. In his view, economics is here and psychology is there:
tlu* soul is in one pocket and the body in another. Between these
two substances there is interaction, but each of them m aintains
its independent existence, the origin of which is wrapped in the
darkest mystery.* The point of view of Marx eliminates this dual
ism. W ith him the economy of society and its psychology represent
two sides of one and the same phenomenon of the production
*
Dont, imagine lhat we are slandering the worthy professor. He quotes
with great praise lhe opinion of Barth, according to which "law carries on
a separate, though not independent existence. Now, it s just this separate

ness, though not independence that prevents Mr. Kareyev from mastering
the essence of the historical process . How precisely it prevents him w ill
he immediately shown by points in the text.
616
G. 1'LEKHANOV
of life of men, their struggle for existence, in which they are

grouped in a particular way thanks to the particular slate of the
productive forces. The struggle for existence creates their economy
and on the same basis arises their psychology as well. Economy
itself is something derivative, just like psychology. And that, is
the very reason why the economy of every progressing society
changes: the new state of productive forces brings w ith it a new
economic structure just as it does a new psychology,a new spir
it of the age . From this it can be seen that only in a popular
speech could one talk about economy as the prime cause of all
social phenomena. Far from being a prime cause, it is itself a
consequence, a function of the productive forces.
And now follow the points promised in the footnote. Both
the body and the soul of man have their requirements, which seek
satisfaction and which place the individual personality in different
relationships to the external world, i.e., to nature and to other
men The relation of man to nature, according to the physical
and spiritual needs of the personality, therefore creates, on the
one hand, various kinds of arts aim ing at ensuring the material
existence of the personality and, on the other hand, all intellectual
and moral culture....42T The materialist attitude of man to nature
rests upon the requirements of the body, the qualities of matter.
It is in the requirements of the body that one must discover
the causes of hunting, cattle-breeding, agriculture, manufactur
ing industry, trade and monetary operations.
From a common sense point of view this is so, of course: for
if we have no body, why should we need cattle and beasts, land
and machines, trade and gold? But on the other hand, wo must
also say: what is body w ithout soul? No more than matter, and
matter after all is dead. Matter of itself can create nothing if in
its turn it does not consist of soul and body. Consequently matter
traps wild beasts, domesticates cattle, works the land, trades
and presides over the banks not of its own intelligence, but by
direction of the soul. Consequently it is in the soul that one
must seek the ultim ate cause for the origin of the materialist atti
tude of man to nature. Consequently the soul also has dual require
ments; consequently it also consists of soul and body and that,
somehow sounds not quite right. Nor is that all. W illy-nilly
doubt" arises about the following subject as well. According
to Mr. Kareyev it appears that the materialist relation of man
to nature arises on the basis of his bodily requirements. But is
that exact? Is it only to nature that such relations arise? Mr. Kanyev, perhaps, remembers how the abhe Guibert condemned the
m unicipal communes who were striving for their liberation from
the feudal yoke as base institutions, the sole purpose of existent1*'
of which was. he said, to avoid the proper fulfilment of feudal
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 61T
obligations. W hat was then speaking in the abbe G uihert

body or soul? If it was the body then, we say again, that
body also consisted of body and soul; and if it was the soul
then it consisted of soul and body, for it displayed in this
case under examination very little of that unselfish attitude to
phenomena which, in the words of Mr. Kareyev, represents the
distinctive feature of the soul. Try and make head or tail of
that. Mr. Kareyev w ill say, perhaps, that in the abbe Guihert
it was the soul that was speaking, to be exact, but that il was
speaking under dictation from the body, and that the same lakes
place when man is occupied with hunting, w ith banks, etc. But
first of all, in order to dictate, the body again must consist both
of body and of soul. And secondly, a vulgar materialist may remark:
well, theres the soul talking under the dictation of the body,
consequently the fact that man consists of soul and body does
not in itself mean anything at all. Perhaps throughout history
all the soul has been doing is to talk under dictation from the
body? Mr. Kareyev, of course, w ill be indignant at such a suppo
sition, and w ill begin refuting the vulgar materialist. We are
firmly convinced that victory w ill remain on the side of the
worthy professor; but w ill he be greatly helped in the fray by that
unquestionable circumstance that man consists of soul and
body?
And even this is not all. We have read in Mr. Kareyevs writ
ings that on the basis of the spiritual requirements of personality
there grow up mythology and religion ... literature and arts
and in general the theoretical attilud e to the external world
(and to oneself also), to questions of being and cognition, and
likewise the unselfish creative reproduction of external phenom
ena (and of ones own intentions). We believed Mr. Kareyev.
B u t... we have an acquaintance, a technological student, who is
passionately devoted to the study of the technique of manufactur
ing industry, but has displayed no theoretical attitude to all
that has been listed by the professor. And so we find ourselves
asking, can our friend be composed only of a body? We beg Mr.
Kareyev to resolve as quickly as he can this doubt, so torm enting
for ourselves and so hu m ilia tin g for a young, extremely gifted
technologist, who maybe is even a genius.
If Mr. Kareyevs argument has any sense, it is only the follow
ing: man has requirements of a higher and lower order, he has
Egotistical strivings and altruistic feelings. This is the most in
contestable truth, hut quite incapable of becoming the founda
tion of historiosophy. You w ill never get any further with
than hollow and long-since hackneyed reflections on the
theme of human nature: it is 110 more lhan such a reflection
Uself.
-OS
G. PLEK HA NO V
W hile wo have been chatting w ith Mr. Kareyev, our perspica

cious critics have had time to catch us contradicting ourselves,
and above all Marx. We have said that economy is not the prime
cause of all social phenomena, yet at the same time we asserl that
the psychology of society adapts itself to its economy: the lirst
contradiction. We say that the economy and the psychology 0f
society represent two sides of one and the same phenomenon, where
as Marx himself says that economy is the real foundation on
which arise the ideological superstructures: a second contradiction,
all the more lamentable for us because in it we are diverging from
the views of the man whom we undertook to expound. Let us
explain.
That the principal cause of the social historical process is tho
development of the productive forces, we say word for word with
Marx: so lhat here there is no contradiction. Consequently, if it
does exist anywhere, it can only be in the question of the rela
tionship between the economy of society and its psychology. Lei
us see whether it exists.
The reader w ill be good enough to remember how' private prop
erty arises. The development of the productive forces places men
in such relations of production that the personal appropriation of
certain objects proves to be more convenient for the process of
production. In keeping with this the legal conceptions of primitive
man change. The psychology of society adapts itself to its economy.
On the given economic foundation there rises up fatally the ideolog
ical superstructure appropriate to it. But on the other hand each
new step in the development of the productive forces places men,
in their daily life, in new m utual relations which do not corre
spond to the relations of production now becoming outdated. These
new and unprecedented situations reflect themselves in the psy-chology of men, and very strongly change it. In what direction?
Some members of society defend the old order: these are the people
of stagnation. Others to whom the old order is not advantageous
stand for progress; lheir psychology changes in the direction of
those relations of production which in time w ill replace the old eco
nomic relations, now becoming outdated. The adaptation of psy*
chology to economy, as you see, continues, but slow psychological
evolution precedes economic revolution.*
Once this revolution has taken place, a complete harmony
is established between the psychology of society and its economyThen on the basis of the new economy there takes place the full
flowering of the new psychology. For a certain time this harmony
remains unbroken, and even becomes stronger and stronger. But
*
In essence this is the very psychological process which the proletariat
of Europe is now going through: its psychology is already adapting itsC'
lo the new, future relations of production.
THE D EVELOPMEN T OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IST O R Y 619
litlle by little the first shoots of a new discord make their appear
ance; the psychology of the foremost class, for the reason mentioned
above, again outlives old relations of production: without for a
moment ceasing to adapt itself to economy, it again adapts itself
In the new relations of production, constituting the germ of the
future economy. W ell, are not these two sides of one and the same
process!*
Up to now we have been illustrating the idea of Marx m ainly
by examples from the sphere of the law of property. This law is
undoubtedly the same ideology wo have been concerned w ith,
but ideology of the first or, so to speak, lower sort. Ilow are we lo
understand the view of Marx regarding ideology of the higher
sortscience, philosophy, the arts, etc.?
In the development of these ideologies, economy is the founda
tion in this sense, that society must achieve a certain degree of
prosperity in order to produce out of itself a certain stratum of peo
ple who could devote their energies exclusively to scientific and
other sim ilar occupations. Furthermore, the views of Plato and
l'lutarch* which wo quoted earlier show that the very direction
of intellectual work in society is determined by the production
relations of the latter. It was already Vico who said of the sciences
thn t they grow out of social needs. In respect of such a science as
political economy, this is clear for everyone who has the least
knowledge of its history. Count Pecchio justly remarked that
political economy particularly confirms the rule that practice al
ways and everywhere precedes science.** Of course, this too can
be interpreted in a very abstract sense; one may say: W ell, natu
rally science needs experience, and the more the experience the
fuller the science. But this is not the point here. Compare the
economic views of Aristotle or Xenophon with the views of Adam
Smith or Ricardo, and you w ill see that between the economic
science of ancient Greece, on the one hand, and the economic sci
ence of bourgeois society, on the other, there exists not only a
quantitative but also a qualitative difference the point of view is
* |See pages 612-15 of this edition.)
** Quand essa cominciava appena a naseere nel diciasettesiino secolo,
alcune nazioni avevano gia da piu secoli fiorito colla loro sola csperienza, da
cui poscia la scienza ricavd i suoi dettami. (Storia della Econornia publica
Italia, etc., Lugano, 1829, p. 11.) ( Even before it (political economy)
began to take shape in the seventeenth century, some nations had been
nourishing for several centurios relying solely on'their practical experience.
That experience was later used by this science for its propositions.]
John Stuart M ill repeats: In every department of human affairs, Practice
long precedes Science.... The conception, accordingly, of Political Economy
as a prauch of Science is extremely modern; but the subject with which its
enquiries are conversant has in all ages necessarily constituted one of the chief
Practical interests of mankind. Principles of Political Economy, London,
18*3, Vol. I, p. 1.
620
G. P LEK HA N O V
quite different, the attitude to the subject is quite different. How

is this difference to be explained? Sim ply by the fact that the very
phenomena have changed.', relations of production in bourgeois so
ciety dont resemble production relations in ancient society. D iffer
ent relations in production create different views in science.
Furthermore, compare the views of Ricardo with the views of some
Bastiat, and you w ill see that these men have different views of
production relations which were the same in their general character,
being bourgeois production relations. W hy is this? Because at the
time of Ricardo these relations were still only flowering and becom
ing stronger, while in the time of Bastiat they had already begun
to decline. Different conditions of the same production relations
necessarily had to reflect themselves in the views of the persons
who were defending them.
Or let us take the science of public law'. How and why did its
theory develop? The scientific elaboration of public law, says
Professor Gumplowicz, begins only where the dom inating classes
come into conflict among themselves regarding the sphere of au
thority belonging to each of them. Thus, the first big political
struggle which we encounter in the second half of the European
m iddle ages, the struggle between the secular and the ecclesiastic
authority, the struggle between the Emperor and the Pope, give*
the first impetus to the development of the German science of pub
lic law. The second disputed political question which brought
division into the midst of the dom inating classes, and gave an im
pulse to the elaboration by publicists of the appropriate part of
public law, was the question of the election of the Emperor,*
and so on.
W hat are the m utual relations of classes? They are, in the
first place, just those relations which people adopt to one another
in the social process of productionproduction relations. These
relations find their expression in the political organisation of
society and in tho political struggle of various classes, and thal
struggle serves as an impetus for the appearance and developm ent
of various political theories: on the economic foundation then*
necessarily arises its appropriate ideological superstructure.
S till, all these ideologies, too, may be of the first quality, hut
are certainly not of the highest order. Ilow do matters stand, fr
example, w ith philosophy or art? Before replying to this questi"
we must make a certain digression.
Helvetius started from the principle that I homme n'est qjH!
sensibilite. From this point of view it is obvious that man wi
avoid unpleasant sensations and w ill strive to acquire only lloSC
which are pleasant. This is the inevitable, natural egotism of sen
* Rechtsstaat und Sozialismus , Innsbruck, 1881, S. 124-25.
tient matter. But if this is so, in what way do there arise in man
quite unselfish strivings, like love of truth or heroism? Such was
the problem which Helvetius had to solve. He did not prove capa
ble of solving it, and in order to get out of his difficulty he sim ply
crossed out that same X , that same unknown quantity, which he
had undertaken to define. He began to say that there is not a single
learned man who loves truth unselfishly, that every man sees in it
only the path lo glory, and in glory the path to money, and in
money the means of procuring for himself pleasant physical sen
sations, as for example, by purchasing savoury food or beautiful
slave girls. One need hardly say how futile are such explanations.
They only demonstrated what we noted earlier the incapacity
of French metaphysical materialism to grapple with questions of
development.
The father of modern dialectical materialism is made responsible
for a view of the history of human thought which would be nothing
else than a repetition of the metaphysical reflections of Helvetius.
Marx's view of the history of. say, philosophy is often understood
approximately as follows: if K ant occupied himself with questions
of transcendental aesthetics, if he talked of the categories of m ind
or of the antinomies of reason, these were only empty phrases.
In reality he wasnt at all interested in either aesthetics, or anti
nomies, or categories. A ll he wanted was one thing: to provide the
class to which he belonged, i.e., the German petty bourgeoisie,
with as many savoury dishes and beautiful slave girls as possible.
Categories and antinomies seemed to him an excellent means of
securing this, and so he began to breed them.
Need I assure the reader that such an impression is absolute non
sense? When Marx says that a given theory corresponds to such
and such a period of the economic development of society, he does
not in the least intend to say thereby that the thinking represen
tatives of the class which ruled during this period deliberately
adapted their views to the interests of their more or less wealthy,
more or less generous benefactors.
There have always and everywhere been sycophants, of course,
b'it it is not they who have advanced the human intellect. And
those who really moved it forward were concerned for truth, and
not for the interests of the great ones in this world.*
l-'pon the different forms of property, says Marx, upon tho
social conditions of existence, rises an entire superstructure of
distinct and peculiarly formed sentiments, illusions, modes of
thought and views of life. The entire class creates and forms them
<
This did not prevent them from sometimes fearing the strong. Thus,
jgr ex?lnple, Kant said of himself: No one w ill force me to say lhat which
against my beliefs; but I will not venture to say all I believe.
622
G. P LEK H A N O V
out of its material foundations and out of the corresponding social

relations . 428 The process by which the ideological superstructure
arises takes place unnoticed by men. They regard that superstruc
ture, not as the temporary product of temporary relations, but as
something natural and essentially obligatory. Individuals whose
views and feelings have been formed under tho influence of edu
cation and environment may be filled with the most sincere, most
devoted attitude to the views and forms of social existence which
arose historically on the basis of more or less narrow class interests.
The same applies to whole parties. The French democrats of 1848
expressed the aspirations of the petty bourgeoisie. The petty bour
geoisie naturally strove to defend its class interests. But one must
not form the narrow-minded notion that the petty bourgeoisie,
on principle, wishes to enforce an egoistic class interest. Rather,
it believes that the special conditions of its emancipation are the
general conditions w ithin the frame of which alone modern society
can be saved and the class struggle avoided. Just as little must
one imagine that the democratic representatives are indeed all
shopkeepers or enthusiastic champions of shopkeepers. According
to their education and their individual position they may bo as far
apart as heaven from earth. W hat makes them representatives
of the petty bourgeoisie is the fact thal in lheir minds they do not
get beyond the lim its which the latter do not get beyond in life,
that they are consequently driven, theoretically, to the same prob
lems and solutions to which material interest and social position
drive the latter practically. This is, in general, the relationship
between the political and literary representatives of a class ami
the class they represent.*
*
Proving that the conditions of life (les circonstances) influence the
organisation of animals, Lamarck makes an observation which it will l>
useful to recall here in order to avoid misunderstandings. -lt is true, if this
statement were to be taken literally, I should he convicted of au error; (<ir
whatever the environment may do, it does not work any direct modification
whatever in Ihe shape and organisation of anim als. Thanks to considerable
changes in that environment, however, new requirements, different from
those previously existing, make their appearance. If these new requirement#
Inst a long time, they lead to the appearance of new habits. Now, if nejf
environment ... induces new habits in these animals, that is to say, leujls
them to new activities which have become habitual, the result will Ik1 *j11
use of some one part in preference to some other part, and in some can- vj*
total disuse of some part no longer necessary. The increasing of use nr
absence w ill not remain without influence on the structure of organs,
consequently of the whole organism. (Lamarque, Philosophie zoologiq"?
nouvelle edition par Charles M arlin. 1873, t. I, pp. 223-24.) 458
In the same way must also be understood Ihe influence of economic J
quiremeuts, and of others following from them, on the psychology of
Here there takes place a slow process of adaptation by exercise or non-excrri-,^
while our opponents of economic materialism imagine that, in
opinion, people when they experience new requirements immediately
Marx says this in his book on lhe coup d'etat of Napoleon I I I . 430
In another of his works he perhaps still better elucidates for us the
psychological dialectics of classes. He is speaking of the emanci
patory role which sometimes individual classes have to play.
No class in civil society can play this pari unless it calls forth
a phase of enthusiasm in its own ranks ancl Ihose of tho masses:
a phase when it fraternises and intermingles with society in gener
al, is identified w ith society, is felt and recognised to be the
universal representative of society, and when its own demands and
rights are really the demands and rights of society itself, and it
is in truth the social head and the social heart. Only in the name
of society and its rights in general can a particular class vindicate
its general domination. The position of liberator cannot be taken
by storm, simply through revolutionary energy and intellectual
self-confidence. If the emancipation of a particular class is to he
identified w ith the revolution of a people, if one social class is lo
be treated as the whole social order, then, on the other hand, all
the deficiencies of society must be concentrated in another class; a
definite class must be the universal stumbling-block, the embod
iment of universal fetters__ If one class is to be the liberating
class par excellence, then another class must contrariwise be the
obvious subjugator. The general negative significance of the French
aristocracy and clergy determined the general positive signifi
cance of the bourgeoisie, the class immediately confronting and
opposing them.*
After this preliminary explanation, it w ill no longer be dif
ficult to clear up for oneself Marxs view on ideology of the highest
order, as for example philosophy and art. B ill to make it still
clearer, we shall compare it with the view of H. Taine:
In order to understand a work of art,an artist.a group of artists,
says this writer, one must picture to oneself exactly the general
condition of minds and manners of their age. There lies the u lti
mate explanation, there is to he found the first cause which deter
mines all the rest. This truth is confirmed by experience. In fact,
't we I race the main epochs of the history of art, we shall find that
*hp arls appear and disappear together with certain conditions of
minds and manners with which they are connected. Thus, Greek
tragedy the tragedy of Aeschylus. Sophocles and Kuripides
ehberatoly change their views. Naturally this sei'ms to them a piece of
sa'v*
k- ^ Ut * *s l h(-'V themselves who invented this stupidity: Marx
it^n
Generally speaking, the objections of these thinkers
cler
Us
following triumphant refutation of Darwin by a certain
" ^ ar" i n says, throw a hen into the water and she will grow webbed
*
r assert that the hen will simply drown.
fJu ci if' n.iribution to the Critique of the Hegelian Philosophy of Law. Introa (Lleutsch-Franznsische Jahrbdeher, 1844).
24
G. PLEK HA NO V
appears together with the victory of the Greeks over the Persians,
in the heroic epoch of the little city republics, at the moment of
that great effort thanks to which they won their independence and
established their hegemony in the civilised world. That tragedy
disappears, together w ith that independence and that energy,
when the degeneration of characters and the Macedonian conquest
hand over Greece to the power of foreigners.
In exactly the same way Gothic architecture develops together
with the final establishment of the feudal order, in tho semi-re
naissance of the eleventh century, at a time when society, freed
from Northmen and robbers, begins to settle down. It disappears
a t the time when this m ilitary regime, of small independent barons
is disintegrating, towards the end of the fifteenth century, together
with all the manners which followed from it, in consequence of the
com ing into existence of the new monarchies.
S im ilarly Dutch art flourishes at that glorious moment when,
thanks to its stubbornness and its valour, H olland finally throws
off the Spanish yoke, fights successfully against England, and be
comes the wealthiest, freest, most industrious, most prosperous
state in Europe. It declines at the beginning of the eighteenth
century, when Holland falls to a secondary role, yielding the first
to England, and becomes simply a bank, a commercial house,
maintained in the greatest order, peaceful and well-kept, in which
man may live at his ease like a sagacious bourgeois, with no great
ambitions or great emotion's. Finally, just in the same way does
French tragedy appear at the time when, under Louis X IV , the
firmly established monarchy brings w ith it the rule of decorum,
court life, the brilliance and elegance of the domestic aristocracy;
and disappears when noble society and court manners are abulished by the Revolution.... Just as naturalists study the physical
temperature in order to understand the appearance of this or that
plant, maize or oats, aloes or pine, in exactly the same way must
one study the moral temperature in order to explain tho appear
ance of this or that form of art: pagan sculpture or realistic pniniing, mystic architecture or classical literature, voluptuous music
or idealistic poetry. The works of the hum an spirit, like the works
of living Nature, are explained only by their environment *
Any follower of Marx will unquestionably agree with all this: y*sj
any work of art, like any philosophical system, can be explain '111
by the state of minds and manners of the particular age. But what
explains this general stale of minds and manners? The follow"
ers of Marx think that it is explained by the social order, the quid'*
ties of the social environment. When a great change lakes pla' 0
in the condition of hum anity, it brings by degrees a c o r r e s p o n d i n g
Philosophie de Vart 12-me edition), Paris, 1872, pp. 13-17.
change in human conceptions, says the same Taine.* That, too,

is correct. The only question is, what is it that causes changes in
the position of social man, i.e., in the social order? It is only on
this question that economic materialists differ from Taine.
For Taine the task of history, as of science, is in the last resort
a psychological task1'. According to him , the general state of minds
and manners creates not only the different forms of art, literature
and philosophy but also the industry of the given people and all
its social institutions. And this means that social environment
has its ultim ate cause in the state of minds and manners.
Thus it turns out that the psychology of social man is determined
by his position, and his position by his psychology. This is once
again the antinomy we know so well, w ith which the writers of
the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century failed to grapple.
Taine did not resolve this antinomy. He only gave, in a number of
remarkable works, numerous b rillia n t illustrations of its first
proposition the thesis that the state of minds and manners is deter
mined by the social environment.
Taines contemporaries in France, who contested his aesthetic
theory, put forward I lie antithesis that the qualities of the social
environment are determined by the state of minds and manners.**
This kind of discussion could be carried on u n til tho second advent,
not only w ithout resolving the fateful antinom y, but even w ithout
not icing its exist ence.
[t is only the historical theory of Marx that resolves the a n ti
nomy and thereby brings the argument to a satisfactory conclusion
or, at any rate, provides the possibility of concluding it satisfac
torily, if people have ears to hear and a brain wherewith to think.
The qualifies of the social environment are determined by the
state of the productive forces in every given age. Once the state
* Philosophie de Vart dans les Pays-Has, Paris, 1860, p. 96.
** Nous subissons linfluence du milieu politique ou historique, nous
subissons linfluence du milieu social, nous subissons aussi 1'influence du
milieu physique. Mais il ne faut pas oublier que si nous la subissons, nous
pmivons nourtant aussi lui resister et vous savez sans doute quil y en a de
mSmorables examples.... Si nous subissons l'influence du milieu, un ponvoir
que nous avons aussi, cest de ne pas nous laisser faire. ou pour diro encore
juelque chose de plus, cest de conformer, cest d adaptcr lo milieu lui-meme,
a nos propres convenances!. (F. Brunetiere, L'(volution de la critique depuis
la renaissance jusan'i nos jours, Paris, 1890, pp. 260-61.) l^'We experience
the influence of the political or historical environment, we experience the
influence of the social environment, we also experience the influence of the
physical environment. Rut it must not be forgotten that, if we experience
it, we can however also resist it, and you know doubtless that there are
memorable examples of this.... If we experience the influence of environ
ment, a power which we also have is not to let ourselves be swayed, or to
say more, it is the power of making the environment conform, of adapting
*t to our own convenience.]
*0-01329
(520
G. PLEK H A N O V
of the productive forces is determined, tho qualities of the social

environment are also determined, and so is lhe psychology corres
ponding to it, and the interaction between the environment on
the one side and minds and manners on the other. Brunetiere is
quite right when he says that we not only adapt ourselves to our
environment, but also adapt it to our needs. You w ill ask. but
whence come the needs which do not correspond with the qualities
of the environment around us? They arise in us and, in saying
this, we have in view not only the material but also all lhe socalled spiritual needs of men thanks to that same historical
movement, th a l same development of the productive forces, owing
to which every particular social order sooner or later proves to bo
unsatisfactory, out of date, requiring radical reconstruction, and
maybe fit only for the scrapheap. We have already pointed earlier
to the example of legal institutions to show how the psychology
of men may outdistance the particular forms of their social life.
We are sure that, on reading these lines, many readers even
those favourably inclined towards us have remembered a mass
of examples and of historical phenomena which apparently cannot
in any way he explained from our point of view. And the readers
are already prepared to tell us: You are right, but not entirely;
equally right, but also not entirely, are lhe people who hold views
opposite to yours; both you and they see only half the truth.
B ut wait, reader, dont seek salvation in eclecticism without grasp
ing all that lhe modern monist, i. e., materialist, view of history
can give you.
Up to this point our propositions, of necessity, were very ab
stract. But we already know that there is no abstract truth, truth
is always concrete. We must give our propositions a more concrete
shape.
As almost every society is subjected lo the influence of its neigh
bours, it may be said that for every society there exists, in its turn,
a certain social, historical environment which influences its develop
ment. The sum of influences experienced by every given socioly
at the hands of its neighbours can never be equal to the sum of the
influences experienced at the same time by anot her society. There
fore every society lives in its own particular historical environment,
which may be. and very often is, in reality very similar to the historical
environment surrounding other nations and peoples, but can never
be, and never is, identical with it. This introduces an extremely
powerful element of diversity into that process of social develop
ment which, from our previous abstract point of view, seemed most
schematic.
For example, the clan is a form of com m unity characteristic
of all human societies at a particular stage of their d e v e lo p m e n t
But lhe influence of the historical environment greatly varies
the destinies of the clan in different tribes. It attaches to the clan

itself a particular, so to speak in div id u al, character, it retards or
accelerates its disintegration, and in particular it diversifies the
process of that disintegration. But diversity in the process of the
disintegration of the clan determines the diversity of those forms
of community which succeed clan life. Up to now we have been
saying that the development of the productive forces leads to the
appearance of private properly and to the disappearance of pri
mitive communism. Now we must say that the character of the
private property which arises 011 the ruins of prim itive communism
is diversified by the influence of the historical environment which
surrounds each particular society. The careful study of the Asiatic,
particularly Ind ian, forms of communal property would show how
from different forms of prim itive communal property there follow
different forms of its disintegration. Thus, for example, different
original types of Roman and German private property could be
traced back to different forms of the Indian communal properly. *
The influence of the historical environment of a given society
tells, of course, on the development of ils ideologies as well. Do
foreign influences weaken, and if so to what extent do they weaken,
the dependence of this development on the economic structure of
society?
Compare the Aeneid w ith the Odyssey, or the French classical
tragedy with the classical tragedy of the Greeks. Compare the
Russian tragedy of the eighteenth century with classical French
tragedy. W hat w ill you see? The Aeneid is only an im itation of
the Odyssey, the classical tragedy of the French is only an im ita
tion of Greek tragedy; the Russian tragedy of the eighteenth centu
ry has been composed, although by unskilful hands, after Ihe im
age and likeness of the French. Everywhere there has been im ita
tion; but the im itator is separated from his model by all that dis
tance which exists between the society which gave him , the
imitator, birlh and the society in which the model lived. And
note that we are speaking, not of the greater or lesser perfection
of finish, but of what constitutes the soul of the work of art in ques
tion. W hom does Ihe Achilles of Racine resemble a Greek who
has just emerged from a state of barbarism, or a marquis talon
rouge of Ihe seventeenth century? The personages of the Aeneid.
it has been observed, were Romans of the lim e of Augustus. True,
the characters of the Russian so-called tragedies of the eighteenth
century can hardly be described as giving us a picture of the Rus
sian people oT the time, but their very worthlessness bears witness
to the state of Russian society: they bring out before us its imma
turity.*31
* Marx, Zur Kritik der politischen Oekonomie, Anmerkung, S. 10.
40*
628
G. PLEK HA NO V
Another example. Locke undoubtedly was the teacher of the

vast m ajority of the French philosophers of the eighteenth century
(Helvetius called him the greatest metaphysician of all ages and
peoples). Yet, between Locke and his French pupils there is pre
cisely that same distance which separated English society at the
time of the Glorious Revolution from French society as it was
several decades before the Great Rebellion of the French people.***
A third example. The true Socialists of Germany in the 40s
imported their ideas direct from France. Yet nevertheless these
ideas, one may say, had already at the frontier stamped on them
the mark of the society in which they were destined to spread.
Thus the influence of the literature of one country on the literature
of another is directly proportional to the similarity of the social rela
tions of these countries. I t does not exist at a ll when that similarity
is equal to zero. As an example, the African Negroes up to tho pres
ent time have not experienced the least influence of tho European
literatures. This influence is one-sided when one people through its
backwardness can give nothing to another, either in the sense of form
or in the sense of content. As an example, the French literature of
last century, influencing Russian literature, did not itself expe
rience the least Russian influence. Finally, this influence is recip
rocal when, in consequence of the similarity of social life, and con
sequently of cultural development, each of the two peoples making the
exchange can borrow something from the other. As an example,
French literature, influencing English, experienced the influence
of the latter in its turn.
The pseudo-classical French literature 433 was very much to the
liking, at one time, of the English aristocracy. But the English
imitators could never equal their French models. This was because
all the efforts of the English aristocrats could not transport into
England those relations of society in which the French pseudoclassical literature flourished.
The French philosophers were filled w ith adm iration for tho
philosophy of Locke; but they went much further than their teach
er. This was because the class which they represented had gone
in France, lighting against the old regime, much further than the
class of English society whose aspirations were expressed in the
philosophical works of Locke.
When, as in modern Europe, we have an entire system of so
cieties, which influence one another extremely powerfully, the
development of ideology in each of these societies becomes just
increasingly complex as its economic development becomes more
and more complex, under the influence of constant trade with
other countries.
We have in these conditions one literature, as it were, c o m m o n
to all civilised m ankind. But just as a zoological genus issubdi-
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF HIST O RY 029
vitlert into species, so this world literature is subdivided into the

literatures of the individual nations. Every literary movement,
every philosophical idea assumes its own distinctive features,
sometimes quite a new significance, with every particular civi
lised nation.* When Hume visited France, the French philosoph
ers greeted him as their fellow-thinker. But 011 one occasion,
when dining w ith Holbach, this undoubted fellow-thinker of the
French philosophers began talking about natural religion. As
regards atheists," he said, 1 do not adm it their existence: I have
never met a single one. You have not had much luck up to now,
retorted the author of the System, of Nature. Here, for a start, you
can see seventeen atheists seated at table. The same Ilum e had a
decisive influence on K ant, whom he, as the latter himself adm it
ted, awakened from his dogmatic drowsiness. But the philosophy
of K ant differs considerably from tho philosophy of Hume. The
very same fund of ideas led to the m ilita n t atheism of the French
materialists, to the religious indifferentism of Ilum e and to the
practical religion of K ant. The reason was that the religious ques
tion in England at that time did not play the same part as it
was playing in France, and in France not the same as in Germany.
And this difference in the significance of the religious question was
caused by the fact that in each of these three countries the social
forces were not in the same m utual relationship as in each of the
others. S im ilar in their nature, but dissimilar in their degree of
development, the elements of society combined differently in the
different European countries, w ith the result that in each of them
there was a very particular state of minds and manners", which
expressed itself in the national literature, philosophy, art, etc.
In consequence of this, one and the same question m ight excite
Frenchmen to passion and leave the English cold; one and the same
argument m ight be treated by a progressive German with respect,
while a progressive Frenchman would regard it w ith bitter hatred.
To what did German philosophy owe its colossal successes? To
German realities, answers Hegel: the French have no time to oc
cupy themselves w ith philosophy, life pushes them into the prac
tical sphere (zum Praktischen), while German realities are more
reasonable, and the Germans may perfect theory in peace and quiet
(beim Theoretischen stehen bleiben). As a matter of fact, this im a
ginary reasonableness of German realities reduced itself to tho
poverty of German social and political life, which left educated
Germans at that time no other choice than to serve as officials of
Jiiattractive realities (to adapt themselves to the Practical)
"r to seek consolation in theory, and to concentrate in this sphere
011 the strength of their passion, all the energy of their thought.
* (This sentence is to be found only in the first Russian edition.]
(>30
G. P LEKHANOV
But if the more advanced countries, going away into the Prac
tical , had not pushed forward the theoretical reasoning f n ,
Germans, if they had not awakened the latter from their d og m at
ic drowsiness , never would that negative q u a lity the poverty
of social and political life have given birth to such a colossal
positive result as the brilliant flowering of German ph ilosop h y
Goethe makes Mephistopheles say: Vernunft wird Unsinn'
YVohlthat Plage. (Reason has become unreason and right
wrong. Ed.) In its application to Ihe history of Gorman philo
sophy, one may almost venture such a paradox: nonsense gav>
birth to reason, poverty proved a benefaction.
But I think we may finish this part of our exposition. Let us
recapitulate what has been said in it.
Interaction exists in international life just as it does in the
internal life of peoples; it is quite natural and unquestionably
inevitable; nevertheless by itself it explains nothing. In order to
understand interaction, one must ascertain the attributes of the
interacting forces, and these attributes cannot find their ultimate
explanation in the fact of interaction, however much they may
change thanks to that fact. In the case we have taken, the qualities
of the interacting forces, the attributes of the social organisms in
fluencing one another, are explained in the long run by the cause
we already know: the economic structure of these organisms, which
is determined by the state of their productive forces.
Now t lie historical philosophy we are setting forth has assumed,
we hope, a somewhat more concrete shape. But it is still abstract,
it is still far from "real life. We have to make yet a further step
towards the latter.
At first we spoke of society : then we went on to the interac
tion of societies. But societies, after all, are not homogeneous in
their composition: we already know that the break-up of prim i
tive communism leads to inequality, to the origin of classes which
have different and often quite opposed interests. We already know
that classes carry on between themselves an almost uninterrupt
ed, now hidden, now open, now chronic, now acute struggle.
And this struggle exercises a vast and in the highest degree im
portant influence on the development of ideology. It may bo said
without exaggeration that we shall understand nothing of this de
velopment without taking into account the class struggle.
Do you wish to discover, if one may put it that way, the true
cause of the tragedy of Voltaire? asks Brunetiere. Look for
il, first, in the personality of Voltaire, and particularly in the
necessity which hung over him of doing something different from
what Racine and Q uinault had already done, yet at the same time
of following in their footsteps. Of tho romantic drama, the drama
of Hugo and Dumas, 1 w ill permit myself to say that its definition
fully comprised in tho definition of the drama of Voltaire. If

^ j^ n t ic is m did not want to do this or that on tho stage, it was
because it wanted to do the opposite of classicism.... In literature
fl.s in art, after the influence of the indiv id ual, the most important
i n f l u e n c e is that of some works on others. Sometimes we strive to
co m p e te with our predecessors in their own field, and in that way
ce rta in methods become stable, schools are established, traditions
formed. Or sometimes we try to act otherwise than they did, and
then development proceeds in contradiction to tradition, new
schools appear, methods are transformed.*
Leaving aside for the time being the question of the role of the
in d iv id u a l, we shall remark lhat it has long been time to ponder
over the influence of some works on others. In absolutely all
ideologies development takes place in the way indicated by Brunetiere. The ideologists of one epoch either move in the tracks of
their predecessors, developing their thoughts, applying their
methods and only allowing themselves to compete w ith their
forerunners, or else they revolt against the old ideas and methods,
enter into contradiction to them. Organic epochs, Saint-Simon would
have said, are replaced by critical epochs. The latter are particu
larly noteworthy.
Take any question, like for example that of money. For the Mer
cantilists money was wealth par excellence: they attributed to
money an exaggerated, almost exceptional importance. The people
who revolted against the Mercantilists, entering into contradic
tion!' to them, not only corrected their exceptionalism but them
selves, at least the most headstrong among them, fell into excep
tionalism, and precisely into the opposite extreme: they said that
money is sim ply a symbol, which in itself has absolutely no value.
That was the view of money held, for example, by Hume. If the
view of the Mercantilists can be explained by the im m aturity of
commodity production and circulation in their day, it would be
strange to explain the views of their opponents sim ply by the fact
that commodity productiou and circulation had developed very
strongly. For that subsequent development did not for a moment
actually transform money into a mere symbol, deprived of inter
nal value. Whence did the exceptionalism of H um es view, I hen,
originate? It originated in the fact of struggle, in contradiction"
to the Mercantilists. He wanted to do the opposite to the Mer
cantilists, just as the Romantics wanted to do the opposite lo
the classics. Therefore one may say, just as Brunetiere says of lhe
romantic drama, that Hum es view of money is completely includ
ed in the view of the Mercantilists, being its opposite.
* Loc. cit., pp. 262-63.
G32
G. PLEK HA NO V
Another example. The philosophers of the eighteenth century

resolutely and sharply struggled against any kind of mysticism.
The French Utopians are all more or less imbued with religious
feeling. W hat brought about this return of mysticism? D id such
men as the author of The New Christianity 434 have less lumieres"
than the Encyclopaedists? No, they had no less lumieres, and,
generally speaking, their views were very closely linked with
the views of the Encyclopaedists: they were descended from the
latter in the direct line. But they entered into contradiction" to
the Encyclopaedists on some questions particularly, that is, on
the question of the organisation of society and there appeared in
them the striving to do the opposite to the Encyclopaedists.
Their attitude to religion was sim ply the opposite of the attitude
to it taken up by the philosophers; their view of religion was
already included in the view of the latter.
Take, finally, the history of philosophy. Materialism triumphed
in France during the second half of the eighteenth century; under
its banner marched the extreme section of the French tiers etat
(Third Estate. Ed.). In England in the seventeenth century ma
terialism was the passion of the defenders of the old regime, the
aristocrats, the supporters of absolutism. The reason, here loo,
is clear. Those to whom the English aristocrats of the Restoration
were in contradiction were extreme religious fanatics; in order
to do the opposite to what they were doing, the reactionaries
had to go as far as materialism. In France of the eighteenth century
things were exactly opposite: the defenders of the old order stood
for religion, and it was the extreme revolutionaries who arrived
at materialism. The history of human thought is fu ll of such ex
amples, and all of them confirm one and the same thing: in order to
understand the state of minds of each particular critical epoch, in
order to explain why during this epoch precisely these, and not those,
teachings gain the upper hand, we must as a preliminary study the
state of minds' in the preceding epoch, and discover what teachings
and tendencies were then dominant. W ithou t this we shall not un
derstand at all the intellectual condition of the epoch concerned,
however well we get to know its economy.
But even this must not be understood in abstract fashion, as
the Russian intelligentsia is accustomed to understand every
thing. The ideologists of one epoch never wage against their pre
decessors a struggle sur toute la ligne, on all questions of human
knowledge and social relations. The French Utopians of the nine
teenth century were completely at one with the Encyclopaedists
on a number of anthropological views; the English aristocrats of
the Restoration were quite at one with the Puritans, whom they
so hated, on a number of questions, such as civil law, etc. The
territory of psychology is subdivided into provinces, the provinces
into counties, the counties into rural districts and communities,

and the communities represent unions of individuals (i.e., of indi
vidual questions). When a contradiction arises, when struggle
blazes up, its passion seizes as a rule, only upon individual pro
vinces if not individual counties and only its reflection falls
upon the neighbouring areas. First of all lhat province to which
hegemony belonged in the preceding epoch is subjected to attack.
It is only gradually that the miseries of war spread to the nearest
neighbours and most faithful allies of the province which has been
attacked. Therefore we must add that, in ascertaining the charac
ter of any particular critical epoch, it is necessary to discover not
only the general features of the psychology of the previous organic
period, but also the individual peculiarities of that psychology.
During one period of history hegemony belongs to religion, during
another to politics, and so forth. This circumstance inevitably
reflects itself in the character of the corresponding critical epochs,
each of which, according to circumstances, either continues for
mally to recognise the old hegemony, introducing a new, opposite
content into the dom inating conceptions (as. for example, the
first English Revolution), or else completely rejects them, and
hegemony passes to new provinces of thought (as, for example, the
French literature of the Enlightenment). If we remember that
these disputes over the hegemony of individual psychological pro
vinces also extend to their neighbours, and moreover extend to a
different degree and in a different direction in each individual
case, we shall understand to what an extent here, as everywhere,
one cannot confine oneself to abstract proposition.
A ll that may be so, retort our opponents. But we dont see
what the class struggle has got to do w ith all this, and we strongly
suspect that, having begun with a toast to its health, you're now
finishing w ith one for rest to its soul. You yourself now recognise
that the movements of human thought are subjected to certain
specific laws, which have nothing in common with the laws of eco
nomics or with that development of the productive forces which you
have talked about till we are sick of hearing it. We hasten to reply.
That in the development of human thought, or, to speak more
exactly, in the co-ordination of human conceptions and notions there
are specific laws this, so far as we know, not a single one of the
economic materialists has ever denied. None of them has over
identified, for example, the laws of logic with the laws of the cir
culation of commodities. But nevertheless not one of this variety
of materialists has found it possible to seek in the laws of thought
tho ultim ate cause, the prime mover of the intellectual develop
ment of hum anity. And it is precisely this which distinguishes,
and advantageously distinguishes, economic materialists from
dealisls, and particularly from eclectics.
634
G. PLEK HA NO V
Once the stomach has been supplied w ith a certain quantity

of food, it sets about its work in accordance with the general laws
of stomachic digestion. But can one, with the help of these laws,
reply to the question of why savoury and nourishing food descends
every day into your stomach, while in mine it is a rare visitor?
Do these laws explain why some eat too much, while others starve?
It would seem that the explanation must be sought in some other
sphere, in the working of some other kind of laws. The same is tho
case with the mind of man. Once it has been placed in a definite situ
ation, once its environment supplies it w ith certain impressions, it
co-ordinates them according to certain general laws (moreover here,
too, the results are varied in the extreme by the variety of impres
sions received). But what places it in that situation? What deter
mines the influx and the character of new impressions? That is
the question which cannot be answered by any laws of thought.
Furthermore, imagine that a resilient ball falls from a high
tower. Its movement takes place according to a universally known
and very simple law of mechanics. But suddenly the ball strikes
an inclined plane. Its movement is changed in accordance with
another, also very simple and universally known mechanical law.
As a result, w'e have a broken line of movement, of which one can
and must say that it owes its origin to the joint action of the two
laws which have been mentioned. But where did the inclined
plane which the hall struck come from? This is not explained either
by the first or the second law, or yet by their joint action. Exactly
the same is the case w ith hum an thought. Whence came the cir
cumstances thanks to which its movements were subjected to the
combined action of such and such laws? This is not explained either
by its in div id u al laws or by their combined action.
The circumstances which condition the movement of thought
must be looked for where the writers of the French Enlighten
ment sought for them. But nowadays we no longer halt at that
lim it which they could not cross. We not only say that man with
all his thoughts and feelings is the product of his social environ
ment; we try to understand the genesis of that environment. We say
that its qualities are determined by such and such reasons, lying
outside man and hitherto independent of his w ill. The multiform
changes in the actual m utual relations of men necessarily bring in
their train changes in the state of minds , in the m utual relations
of ideas, feelings, beliefs. Ideas, feelings and beliefs are co-ordi
nated according to their own particular laws. But these laws are
brought into play by external circumstances which have nothin?
in common w ith these laws. Where Brunetiere sees only the in
fluence of some literary works on others we see in addition the
m utual influences of social groups, strata and classes, influences
that lio more deeply. Where he sim ply says: contradiction P"
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF I1ISTOUY 635
peared, men wanted to do the opposite' of what their predecessor?

had been doing, we add: and the reason why they wanted it was
because a new contradiction had appeared in their actual relations,
because a new social stratum or class had come forward, which
could no longer live as the people had lived in former days.
W hile Brunetiere only knows Lhat the Romantics wished to
contradict the classics, Brandes tries lo explain their propensity
to contradiction by the position of the class in society to which
they belonged. Remember, for example, what he says of the rea
son for the romantic mood of the French youth during the period
of the Restoration and under Louis Philippe.
When Marx says: If one class is to be the liberating class par
excellence, then another class must contrariwise be the obvious
subjugator,483he also is p o in tin g to a particular, and moreover very
important, law of development of social thought. But this law
operates, and can operate, only in societies which are divided into
classes; it does not operate, and cannot operate, in prim itive socie
ties where there are neither classes nor their struggle.
Let us consider the operation of this law. When a certain class
is the enslaver of all in the eyes of the rest of the population, then
the ideas which prevail in the ranks of that class naturally pre
sent themselves to the population also as ideas worthy only of
slave-owners. The social consciousness enters into contradiction
to them: it is attracted by opposite ideas. But we have already said
that this kind of struggle is never carried on all along the line:
there always remain a certain number of ideas which are equally
recognised both by the revolutionaries and by tho defenders of
the old order. The strongest attack, however, is made on the ideas
which serve to express the most injurious sides of the dying order
at the given time. It is on those sides of ideology that the revolu
tionaries experience an irrepressible desire to contradict their
predecessors. But in relation to other ideas, even though they did
grow up on the basis of old social relations, they often remain
quite indifferent, and sometimes by tradition continue to cling
to them. Thus the French materialists, while waging war 011 the
philosophical and political ideas of Ihe old regime (i.e., against
the clergy and the aristocratic monarchy), left almost untouched
the old traditions in literature. True, here also the aesthetic theo
ries of Diderot were the expression of the new social relations.
But tho struggle in this sphere was very weak, because the main
forces had been concentrated 011 another field.* Here the standard
of revolt was raised only later and, moreover, by people who, warm*
In Germany the struggle between literary views, as is know), went
n with much greater energy, but here the attention of the innovators was
not distracted by political struggle.
636
G. P LEK H A N O V
ly sympathising w ith the old regime overthrown by the revolni j

ought, il would seem, to have sympathised with the literary
which were formed in the golden age of that regime. But even l]",
seeming peculiarity is explained by the principle of c o n tra d i'S
tion. How can you expect, for example, that Chateaubriand shot h
sympathise w ith the old aesthetic theory, when Voltaire- ij/
hateful and harm ful V oltaire was one of its representatives') *
Der Widerspruch ist das Fortleitende (Contradiction leads thp
way forward. Ed,.), says Hegel. The history of ideologies seem*
once more to demonstrate that the old metaphysician was not
mistaken. It also demonstrates apparently the passing of q u a n ti
tative changes into qualitative. But we ask the reader not to lie
upset by this, and to hear us out to the end.
Up to now we have been saying that once the productive forces
of society have been determined, its structure also has been deter
mined and, consequently, its psychology as well. On this founda
tion the idea m ight be attributed to us that from the economic
state of a given society one can w ith precision form a conclusion
as to the make-up of its ideas. But this is not the case, because tho
ideologies of every particular age are always most closely connect
edwhether positively or negatively w ith the ideologies of
the preceding age. The state of minds of any given age can ho
understood only in connection w ith the state of the minds of lhe
previous epoch. Of course, not a single class w ill find itself captivat
ed by ideas which contradict its aspirations. Every class excellent
ly. even though unconsciously, always adapts its ideals to its
economic needs. B ut this adaptation can take place in various*
ways, and why it takes place in this way, not in that, is explained
not by the situation of the given class taken in isolation, but. by
all the particular features of the relations between this class and
its antagonist (or antagonists). W ith the appearance of classe*.
contradiction becomes not only a motive force, but also a formative
principle.*
But what then is the role of the individual in the history of ideol
ogy? Brunetiere attributes to tho individual a vast importance,
independent of his environment. Guyau asserts that a g e n i u s al
ways creates something new.**
We shall say that in the sphere of social ideas a genius outdis
tances his contemporaries, in the sense that he grasps earlier than
*
One might ask, what relation to the class struggle has the hisiory
of such an art as, shall we say, architecture? Yet it too is closely connect^
with that struggle. See E. Corroyer, Varchitecture gothtque (Paris,
particularly Part IV: L architecture civile .
** II introduit dans le raonde des idês et des sentimeDts, des tM1,,.

nouveaux. [ He introduces into the world new ideas, sentiments, tyP'-'"-L'art an point de vue sociologique, Paris, 1889, p. 31.
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y 637
, y do the meaning of new social relations which are coming into

iistence. Consequently it is impossible in this case even to speak
of the genius being independent of his environment. In the sphere
0f n a t u r a l science a genius discovers laws the operation of which
dot's not, of course, depend upon social relations. But the role of
the social environment in the history of any great discovery is
m a n i f e s t e d , first of all, in the accumulation of that store of knowl
edge without which not a single genius w ill do anything at all
and. secondly, in turning the attention of the genius in this or
that direction.* In the sphere of art the genius gives the best pos
sible expression of the prevailing aesthetic tendencies of the given
society, or given class in society.** Lastly, in all these three
*
However, it is only in the formal sense that this influence is of a dual
nature. Every given store of knowledge has been accumulated just because
social needs impelled people to its accumulation, turned their attention
iu tho appropriate direction.
** Ann to what extent the aesthetic inclinations and judgements of
any given class depend on its economic situation was well known to the
H Uthor of Aesthetic Relations of Art and Reality. (Chernyshevsky. Ed.)
The beautiful is life, he said, and explained his thought by such considera
tions as the following. Among the common people, the good life', life
as it should be , means having enough to eat, living in a good house, having
enough sleep; but at the same time, the peasants conception of life always
contains the conceptwork: it is impossible to live without work; indeed,
life would be dull without it. As a consequence of a life of sufficiency, accom
panied by hard but not exhausting work, the peasant lad or maiden will
nave avery fresh complexionand rosy cheeks the first attribute of beauty
according to the conceptions of the common people. Working hard, and
therefore being sturdily built, the peasant girl, if she gets enough to eat,
will he buxomthis too is an essential attribute of the village beauty: rural
people regard the ethereal society beauty as decidedly plain , and are
even disgusted by her, because they are accustomed to regard skinniness
as the result of illness or of a sad lot. Work, however, does not allow one
to get fat: if a peasant girl is fat, it is regarded as a kind of malady, they
say she is flabby , and the people regard obesity as a defect. The village
Beauty cannot have small hands and feet, because she works hardand these
attributes of beauty are not mentioned in our songs. In short, in the descrip
tions of feminine beauty in our folk songs you will not find a single attribute
oM jeauty that does not express robust health and a balanced constitution,
wnich are always the result of a life of sufficiency, and constant real hard,
jmt not exhausting, work. The society beauty is entirely different. For a numgenerations her ancestors have lived without performing physical
' }
a life of idleness, little blood flows to the limbs; with every new
* nemtjon the muscles of the arms and legs grow feebler, the bones become
il* nnerinevitable consequence of all this are small hands and feet
tliini,nr0 the symptoms of the only kind of life the upper classes of society
ond f *S P.03?*t)lelife without physical work. If a society lady has big hands
from
' s e*ther regarded as a defect, or as a sign that she does not come
for n S *001* ancient fam ily.... True, good health can never lose its value
ôr even in a life of sufficiency and luxury, bad health is a drawalso f
e<-rosy cêks and the freshness of good health are still attractive
li&v'e tl*" so?ie,y people; but sickliness, frailty, lassitude and languor also
me virtue of beauty in their eyes as long as it seems to be the conse
038
G. PLEK HA NO V
spheres the influence of social environment shows itself j ,,

affording of a lesser or greater possibility of development fr)r n''
genius and capacities of individual persons.
1,1
Of course we shall never he ahle to explain the entire India >
ualily of a genius by the influence of his environment; l>m |jf.
does not prove anything by itself.
*
Ballistics can explain the movement of a shell fired from a gM
11 can foresee its motion. But it w ill never he ahle to tell you exact
ly into how many pieces the given shell will burst, and where
precisely each separate fragment w ill fly. However this does not
in any way weaken the authenticity of the conclusions at which
ballistics arrives. We do not need to take up an idealist, (or eclectic)
point of view in ballistics: mechanical explanations are quite
enough for us, although who can deny that these explanations do
leave in obscurity for us the in divid u al" destinies, size and form
of the particular fragments?
A strange irony of fate! That same principle of contradiction
against which our subjectivists go to war with such fire, as an emp
ty invention of the metaphysician Hegel, seems to be bringing
us closer to nos chers amis les ennemis. If Ilum e denies the* inner
value of money for the sake of contradicting the Mercantilists;
if the Romantics created their drama only in order to do the op
posite to what the classics did; then Ihere is no objective truth,
there is only that which is true for me, for Mr. Mikhailovsky, for
Prince Meshchersky and so forth. Truth is subjective, all is true
that satisfies our need of cognition.
No. that is not so! The principle of contradiction does not de
stroy objective truth, but only leads us to it. Of course, the path
along which it forces mankind to move is not at a ll a straight line.
But in mechanics, too, cases are known when what is lost in dis
tance is gained in speed: a body moving along a cycloid sometimes
moves more quickly from one point to another, lying below it.
than if it had moved along a straight Wm. Contradiction appear*
where, and only where, there is struggle, where there is move
ment; and where there is movement, thought goes forward, even
though by roundabout ways. Contradiction to the M ercantilists
brought 1In me to a mistaken view of money. But the movement
quence of a life of idleness a n d luxury. Pallid cheeks, languor and
nave still another significance for society people: peasants seek ri1 V,r
tranquility, but those who belong to educated society, who do not it
from material want and physical fatigue, but often suffer from ennui ^ j lp_
ing from idleness and the absence of material cares, seek the th r ills .''* (|n
ment a n d passions , which lend colour, diversity and a ttra c tio n
otherwise dull and colourless society life. Hut thrills and ardent
soon wear a person out; how can one fail to be charmed by a beauty sj*
and paleness when they are a sign that she has lived a fast life
(See M epnM uieB CK iiif, *3cTeTiiKa n noaaiinx, cTp. 6-8.)wa
THE DEVELOPMENT OF T H E MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y G3<>
0f social 1 * ^ a,,r* consequently of hum an thought too, did not

ilop at *he P0 11 ' v ^ i c *1 * reached at the time of Ilum e. It placed
in n state of contradiction to Hume, and this contradiction
exulted in a correct view of money. And this correct view, being
the result of the examination of reality from all sides, is now ob
jective truth, which no further contradictions w ill elim inate. It
was the author of the Comments on M ill who said w ith enthusiasm:
What Life once has taken
Fate cannot snatch from us__ 437
In the case of knowledge, this is unquestionably true. No fate
is now strong enough lo take from us the discoveries of Coperni
cus, or the discovery of the transformation of energy, or the dis
covery of the m u tab ility of species, or the discoveries of the
genius of Marx.
Social relations change, and with them change scientific theo
ries. As a result of these changes there appears, finally, the ex
amination of reality from all sides, and consequently objective
truth. Xenophon bad economic views which were different from
those of Jean-Raptiste Say. The views of Say would certainly have
seemed rubbish to Xenophon; Say proclaimed the views of Xen
ophon to be rubbish. Rut we know now whence came the views
of Xenophon, whence came the views of Say, whence came their
one-sidedness. And this knowledge is now objective truth, and
no fate w ill move us any more from this correct point of view,
discovered at last.
Rut human thought, surely, is not going to stop at what you
call the discovery or the discoveries of Marx? Of course not.
gentlemen! It w ill make new discoveries, which w ill supplement
and confirm this theory of Marx, just as new discoveries in astron
omy have supplemented and confirmed the discovery of Coper
nicus.
The subjective method in sociology is the greatest nonsense.
Rut every nonsense has its sufficient cause, and we, the modest
followers of a great man, can say not without pride that we
the sufficient cause of that nonsense. Here, it is:
, The subjective method was first discovered not by Mr. Mi
khailovsky and not even by the angel of the school", i.e., not by
10 author of the Historical Letters. Il was held by Rruno Rauer
'"id his followers that same Rruno Rauer who gave birth lo the
author of the Historical Letters, that same author who gave birth
n,rJr- M ikhailovsky and his brethren.
The objectivity of the historian is, like every objectivity, nojrl,nS more than mere chatter. And not at all in the sense that obc ivity is an unattainable ideal. To ohjoclivity, i.e., to the view
'flrnrteristic of the m ajority, to the world outlook of the mass.
640
G. PLEK IIA N O V
the historian can only lower himself. And once ho does this i
ceases to be a creator, he is working for piece-rate, he is beconi
the hireling of his tim e.*
These lines belong to Szeliga, who was a fanatical follower
Bruno Bauer, and whom Marx and Engels held up to such biiii
ridicule in their book The Holy Fam ily. Substitute sociologist
for historian in these lines, substitute for the artistic creation
of history the creation of social ideals", and you w ill get the sub
jective method in sociology .
Try and imagine the psychology of the idealist. For him (lie
opinions of men are the fundamental, ultim ate cause of socinl
phenomena. It seems to him that, according to the evidence of
history, very frequently the most stupid opinions were put im,,
effoct in social relations. W hy then, he meditates, should not
my opinion too be realised, since, thank God, il is far from being
stupid. Once a definite ideal exists, there exists, at all events, the
possibility of social transformations which are desirable from the
standpoint of that ideal. As for testing that ideal by means of some
objective standard, it is impossible, because such a standard does
not exist: after all, the opinions of the m ajority cannot serve as
a measure of the truth.
And so there is a possibility of certain transformations because
my ideals call for them, because I consider these transformations
useful. And I consider them useful because I want, to do so. OnoI exclude the objective standard, 1 have no other criterion thim
my own desires. D ont interfere with my w ill! that, is the ulti
mate argument of subjectivism. The subjective method is the reductio ad absurdum of idealism, and certainly of eclecticism too,
as all the mistakes of the respectable gentlemen of philosophy,
eaten out of hearth and home by that, parasite, fall on the latter *
head.
From the point of view of Marx it is impossible to connterpnse
the subjective views of the individual to the views of the nnh
'the m ajority , etc.. as to something objective. The mob conM ^
of men, and the views of men are always subjective". since to have
views of one kind or another is one of the qualities of the suhjert.
W hat are objective are not the views of the mob bill *'1'1
relations, in nature or in society, which, are expressed in those
The criterion of truth lies not in me, hut in the relations w hich es,s
outside me. Those views are true which correctly present those rela
tions; those views are mistaken which distort them. That theory
natural science is true which correctly grasps the mutual rela >10 ^
between the phenomena of nature; that historical description
*
Szeliga, Die Organisation der Arbeit der Menschheil un d die A unst
sehichtschreibung Schlosser's, Gervinus's, Dahlmann's und Bruno Bauet s,
lottenburg, 1846, S. 6.
the
DEVELOPMENT OP THE MONIST V I E W OF H IST O R Y 641
uC which correctly depicts the social relations existing in the

,mcb described. Where the historian has to describe the struggle
opposite social forces, lie will inevitably sympathise w ith one
|,r another, if only he himself has not become a dry pedant. In
ihis respect he w ill be subjective, independently of whether he
sympathises w ith the minority or the majority. But such subjec
tivism w ill not prevent him from being a perfectly objective histo
rian if he does not only begin distorting those real economic relations
mi the basis of which there grew up the struggling social forces. The
follower of the subjective method, however, forgets these real
relations, and therefore he can produce nothing but his precious
sympathy or his terrible antipathy, and therefore he makes a big
noise, reproaching his opponents for insulting m orality, every
lime he is told that th a ts not enough. He feels that, he cannot penMrate into the secret of real social relations and therefore every
allusion to their objective force seems to him an insult, a taunt
jit his own impotence. He strives to drown these relations in the
waters of his own moral indignation.
From the point of view of Marx it turns out, consequently, that
ideals are of all kinds: base and lofty, true and false. That ideal
is true which corresponds to economic reality. The subjectivists who
hear this w ill say that if I begin adapting my ideals to reality,
I shall become a miserable lickspittle of the jubilant idlers.
Uni they w ill say this only because, in their capacity of metaphy
sicians, they don't understand the dual, antagonistic character of
all reality. The ju bilan t crowd of idlers" are relying on reality
u'hich is already passing away, under which a new reality is being
horn, the reality of the future, to serve which means to promote
lie triumph of "the great cause of love".
The reader now sees whether that conception of the Marxists,
according to which they attribute no importance to ideals, corres
ponds to "reality". This picturo of them proves to be the exact op
posite of "reality". If one is to speak in the sense of ideals, one
must say that the theory of Marx is the most idealistic theory which
hns ever existed in the history of human thought. And this is equally
rue i n respect both of its purely scientific tasks and of its practical
i'iiiis.
hat would you have us do, if Mr. Marx does riot understand
lie significance of consciousness of self and its strength? W hat
"oulii you have us do. if he values so low the recognised truth of
S(fI^-consciousness?
1hese words were written as long ago as 1847 by one of the fol
lowers of Bruno Bauer*; and although nowadays thej' do not speak
Opitz, Die Itelden (hr Masse. Charaktrristiken, Gniubergf,
I>p. 6-7. We very much advise Mr. Mikhailovsky to read (his work.
0 " ill fmd in it many of his own orieinal ideas.
jji,* Theodor
** -0l.i2<i
642
G. P LEK HA N O V
in the language of the 40s, tho gentlemen who reproach .M

w ith ignoring the element of thought and fooling in history h-i'*
even now not gone any further than Opitz. A ll of them are st/M
convinced that Marx values very low the force of human self-cor
sciousness; all of them in various ways assert one arid the sani*'
thing.* In reality Marx considered the explanation of human sen
consciousness to be the most im portant task of social science
He said: The chief defect of all hitherto existing materialism _
that of Feuerbach included is that the thing (Gegenstandi
reality, sensuousness, is conceived only in the form of tho object
(Objekt) or of contemplation (Anschauung), but not as human sen
suous activity, practice, not subjectively. Hence it happened that
the active side, in contradistinction to materialism, was developed
by idealism hut only abstractly, since, of course, idealism
does not know real, sensuous activity as such . 438 Have yon tried
to understand, gentlemen, tho meaning of those words of Marx?
Wo shall tell you what they mean.
Holbach, Helvetius and their followers bent all their efforts on
proving the possibility of a materialist explanation of nature.
Even the denial of innate ideas did not lead these materialists
further than the examination of man as a member of the animal
kingdom , as matiere sensible. They did not attempt to ex phi in
the history of man from their point of view, and if they did (Ilelvetius) their attempts ended in failure. But man becomes a sub
ject" only in history, because only in the latter is his self-consciousness developed. To confine oneself to exam ining man as a mem
ber of the animal kingdom means to confine oneself to examining
him as an object", to leave out of account his historical develop
ment, his social practice, concrete human activity. But to leave
all this out of account, means to make materialism dry, gloomy,
melancholy" (Goethe). More than that, it means m aking material
ism as we have already shown earlierfatalistic, condem ning
man to complete subordination to blind matter. Marx noticed this
failing of French m aterialism, and even of Feuerbachs, and set
himself the task of correcting it. His economic materialism is
the replv to the question of how the concrete activity" of man de
velops, how iri virtue of it there develops his self-consciousvtss-,
how the subjective side of history comes about. When this quest ion
is answered even in part, materialism will cease to be dry. gloomy,
melancholy, and it w ill cease to yield idealism first place in eN*
R ut no, not all: no one has yet conceived of heating Marx by
out that man consists of soul and body . Mr. Kareyev is doubly on^ nl
(1) no one before him has argued with Marx in this way, (2) no one
jjj
probably, w ill argue with Marx thus. From this footnote Mr. ' "
see that we, too, can pay our tribute of respect to his professor-
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF HISTO RY 643
Sensitive but weak-headed people are indignant with the theory

ji Marx because they take its first word to be its last. Marx says:
in explaining the subject, let us see into what m utual relations
>0ple enter under the influence of objective necessity. Once these
relations are known, it w ill be possible to ascertain how human
self-consciousness develops under their influence. Objective reality
svill help us to clarify the subjective side of history. And this is
the point at which the sensitive but weak-headed people usually
interrupt Marx. It is here that is usually repeated something aston
ishingly like the conversation between Chatsky and Famusov . 438
"In tho social production of their life, men enter into definite
relations that are indispensable and independent of their w ill,
relations of production.... "O h, good heavens, hes a fatalist!...
"On the economic foundation rise ideological superstructures....
What is he saying? And he talks as he writes. He simply does
not recognise the role of the in div id u al in history!... "B u t hear
me out, if only for once; from what 1 said earlier, it follows th a t....
I wont listen, send him for trial! Send him for moral trial by
actively progressive personalities, under open observation by sub
jective sociology.
Chatsky was rescued, as you know, by the appearance of Skaloznli.440 In the arguments between the Russian followers of Marx
und their strict subjective judges, matters have hitherto taken
another turn. Skalozub gagged the mouth of Chatskys, and then
Hu* Famusovs of subjective sociology took the fingers out of their
ears and said, w ith a full consciousness of their superiority:
There you are, theyve only said two words. Their views have
remained completely unclarified . 441
It was Hegel who said that any philosophy may be reduced to
*mpty formalism, if one confines oneself to the simple repetition of
1,s fundamental principles. But Marx is not g u ilty of lhat sin either.
He did not confine himself to repeating that the development, of
lie productive forces lies at the basis of the entire historical progrpss f m ankind. You w ill hardly find another thinker who has
done so much as he to develop his fundamental propositions.
"Rut where precisely, where did ho develop his views? the sub
jectivist gentry sing, howl, appeal and thunder in various voices.
I 'k at Darwin, now: hes got a book. But Marx hasnt even got
a nook, and one has to reconstruct his views."
undoubtedly, reconstruction" is an unpleasant and difficult
'usiness, particularly for those who have no subjective gifts of
"rreetly understanding, and therefore of reconstructing other
P^ple s ideas. But theres no need for reconstruction, and the book
ftose absence the subjectivists lament has long ago been in exis41*
G. PLEK HA NO V
tence. There are even several hooks, one explaining b o lte r tK

another the historical Iheory of Marx.
Ufi
The first book is the history of philosophy and social scii'j
beginning w ith the end of lhe eighteenth century. Study that i
resting hook (of course, it wont he enough to read Lewes)-, it
show you why there appeared, why there had to appear, the thoo'
of Marx, to what previously unanswered and unanswerable quo*
tions it provided the replies, and consequently what is its real
significance.
The second book is Capital, that same Capital which you havr*
all read, w ith which you are all at one , but which not ouo of
you, dear sirs, has understood.
The third book is the history of European events beginning with
1848, i.e., w ith the appearance of a famous Manifesto442. Givt.
yourselves the trouble of penetrating into the contents of that vast
and instructive book and tell us, in a ll fairnessif only there is
im p artiality in your subjective fairness did not the theory of
Marx provide him w ith an astounding, previously unknown, capac
ity to foresee events? W hat has now become of the Utopians of
reaction, stagnation, or progress who were his contemporaries?
Into what putty has gone the dust into which their ideals" were
transformed at their first contact w ith reality'} Not a trace ha*
been left even of the dust, while what Marx said comes into effect naturally, in broad outlinesevery day, and w ill invariably conn*
into effect u n til, at last, his ideals are fu lly realised.
Is not the evidence of these three books sufficient? And it smn<
to us that you cannot deny the existence of any of them? You will
say. of course, that we are reading from them what is not writttMi
in them? Very well, say it and prove it; we await your proofs with
impatience, and in order that you should not be too muddled in
them, we shall for a beginning explain to you the meaning of tinsecond book.
You recognise the economic views of Marx while denying hi*
historical theory, you say. One must adm it that this says a wry
great deal namely, that you understand neither his historical theory
nor his economic views. 443
W hat does the first volumo of Capital discuss? It speaks, for
example, of value. It says that value is a social relation of produc
tion. Do you agree to this? If not, then you are denying your own
words about agreement w ith the economic theory of Marx. If .v,lh
do, then you are adm itting his historical theory, although evidentI>
you dont understand it.
Once you recognise that mens own relations in p r o d u c t i o n existing independently of their w ill, acting behind their bacK.
are reflected in their heads in the shape of various c a t e g o r i e s o
political economy: in the shape of value, in the shape of money, 1
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF IIIS T O B Y 645
.<-shape of capital, and so forth, you thereby adm it that on a cerin economic basis there invariably arise certain ideological super
s t r u c t u r e s which correspond to its character. In that event the
faiise of your conversion is already three parts won. for all you
linvi to (l is to aPP!y your own view (i.e.. borrowed from Marx)
to the analysis of ideological categories of the higher order: law,
justice, morality, equality and so forth.
Or perhaps you are in agreement w ith Marx only in regard to
I ho second volume of his Capital? For there are people who rec
ognise Marx only to the extent that he wrote the so-called letter
lo Mr. M ikhailovsky . 444
You don't recognise the historical theory of Marx? Consequently,
in your opinion, he was mistaken in his assessment, for example,
of the events of French history from 1848 to 1851 in his newspaper,
Neue Rheinische Zeitung, and in the other periodicals of that
time, and also in his book The Eighteenth Rrumaire nf Louis Bona
parte? W hat a pity that you have not taken the pains to show where
he was mistaken; what a pity that your views remained unde
veloped, and that it is impossible even to reconstructthem for in
sufficiency of data.
You dont recognise M arxs historical theory? Therefore in
your opinion he was mistaken in his view, for example, of the im
portance of the philosophical teachings of the French materialists
of the eighteenth century ? 446 It. is a pity that you have not refuted
Marx in this case either. Or perhaps you dont even know where
he discussed that subject? W ell, in that event, we don't want to
help you out of your difficulty; after all, you must know the lite
rature of the subject on which you undertook to argue; after all,
many of youto use the language of Mr. M ikhailovskybear the
title of ordinary and extraordinary bellmen of science. True, that
title did not prevent you from concerning yourselves m ainly with
private sciences: subjective sociology, subjective historiosophy, etc.
But why did not Marx write a book which would have set forth
his point of view of the entire history of mankind from ancient
times to our day, and which would have examined all spheres of
development: economic, juridical, religious, philosophical and
so forth?
The first characteristic of any cultivated mind consists in the
ability to formulate questions, and in knowing what replies can
and what, cannot be required of modern science. But among the
Î'ponents of Marx this characteristic seems to be conspicuous by
absence, in spite of their extraordinary, and sometimes evenordiuary qualityor maybe, by the way, just because of it. Do you really
suppose that in biological literature there exists a book which
,as fully set forth the entire history of the anim al and vegetable
G. P LEK H A N O V
kingdom from the point of view of Darwin? Have a talk about

w ith any botanist or zoologist, and ho, after first having hea
laugh at your childish sim plicity, w ill let you know that the
sentation of all the long history of species from the point of vj?"
of Darwin is the ideal of modern science, and we do not know whiT
it will attain that ideal. W hat we have discovered is tho p oi"
of view which alone can give us the key to the understanding
the history of species.* Matters stand in exactly the same way jJ,
modern historical science.
1
W hat is essentially the work of Darwin? asks Mr. Mikhailov
sky. A few generalising ideas, most intim ately interconnected
which crown a whole Mont Blanc of factual material. Where i*
the corresponding work of Marx? It does not exist.... And not onlv
is there no such work of Marx, but there is no such work in all
Marxist literature, in spite of all its extensiveness and wide dis
trib utio n .... The very foundations of economic materialism, repeal
ed as axioms innumerable times, still remain unconnected amonc
themselves and untested by facts, which particularly deserves
attention in a theory which in principle relies upon material and
tangible facts, and which arrogates to itself the title of being par
ticularly scientific. **
That the very foundations of the theory of economic material
ism remain unconnected among themselves is sheer untruth.
One need only read the preface to the Gritique of Political Economy,
to see how intim ately and harmoniously they are interconnected.
That these propositions have not been tested is also untrue: they
have been tested w ith the help of an analysis of social phenomena,
both in The Eighteenth Brumaire and in C apital, and moreover
not at all particularly in the chapter on prim itive accumulation,
as Mr. M ikhailovsky 446 thinks, but absolutely in a ll the chapters,
from the first, to the last. If nevertheless this theory has not once
*
Alle diese verschiedenen Zweige der Entwickelungsgeschichte, dm
jetzt noch teilweise weit auseinanderliegen und die von den verschiodensten einpirischen Erkenntnissquellen ausgeganeen sind, werden von jeMj
an mit dem steigenden Bewusstsein ihrcs einneitlichen Zusammenhangcs
sich hoher entwickeln. Auf den verschiedensten einpirischen Wegen wandeli'u
und mit den mannigfaltigsten Methoden arbeitend werden sie doch
auf ein und dasselbe Ziel hinstreben, auf das grosse Endziel einer universal"
monistischen E ntwickelungsgeschtchle. (E. Haeckel, Ziele und Wege der
gen Entwickelungsgeschichte, Jena, 1875, S. 96.) [ A ll these different branCii*of the history of evolution, which now to some extent lie widely scattered*
and which have proceeded from the most varied empirical sources of kno ledge, will from now onward develop with the growing consciousness
their interdependence. W alking along different empirical paths, and wor
with manifold methods, they w ill nevertheless all strive towards the sa
goal, that great final goal of a universal monist history of evolution- 1
** liusskoye Bogatstvo, January 1894, Part II, pp. 105-06.
t m F.
sot forth in connection w ith a whole Mont Blanc of factual

terial. which in Mr. M ikhailovsky's opinion distinguishes it
,n a jt 5 disadvantage from D arw ins theory, theres again a misun
d e r s t a n d i n g here. W ith the help of tho factual material m aking
n for example, The Origin of Species, it is chiefly the m utability
of species that is demonstrated; when Darwin touches on the history
of a few separate species, he does it only in passing, and only hypothet
ically', history m ight have gone this way or other, but one thing
was c e r t a in that, there had been a history, and that species had varied.
jsjow we shall ask Mr. M ikhailovsky: was it necessary for Marx
to prove that m ankind doesnt stand s till, that social forms change,
that the views of men replace one anotherin a word, was it nec
essary to prove the mutability of this kind of phenomena? Of course
it was not, although in order to prove it, it would have been easy
to pile up a dozen Mont Blancs of factual m aterial. W h at did
Marx have to do? The preceding history of social science and p h i
losophy had piled up a whole Mont. Blanc of contradictions,
which urgently demanded solution. M arx did precisely solve them
with the help of a theory which, like Darwin's theory, consists of a
few generalising ideas, most intimately connected among themselves".
When these ideas appeared, it turned out that, w ith their help,
all the contradictions which threw previous thinkers into confu
sion could be resolved. Marx required, not to accumulate moun
tains of factual m aterial which had been collected by his pre
decessors but to take advantage of this m aterial, among other
matter, and to begin the study of the real history of m ankind from
the new point of view. And this is what Marx did, turning to the
study of tho history of the capitalist epoch, as a result of which
there appeared Capital (not to speak of monographs such as The
Eighteenth Brumaire).
But in Capital, Mr. M ikhailovsky remarks, only one historical
period is discussed, and even w ithin those lim its the subject., of
course, is not even approximately exhausted . That is true. But
we shall again remind Mr. M ikhailovsky that the first sign of a
cultivated m ind is knowledge of what demands can be made of
men of learning. Marx sim ply could not in his research cover all
historical periods, just as Darwin could not write the history of
oil animal and vegetable species.
Even in respect of one historical period the subject is not ex
hausted, even approximately. No, Mr. M ikhailovsky, it is not
exhausted even approximately. B ut, in the first place, tell us what
subject has been exhausted in Darwin, even approximately. And
secondly, we shall explain to you now, how it is and why it is that
the subject is not exhausted in Capital.
According to the new theory, the historical progress of hum an
ity is determined by the development of the productive forces,
648
G. P LEK HA N O V
leading to changes in economic relations. Therefore any histor'

research has to begin with studying tho condition of the product
forces and the economic relations of the given country. Bui n a t ^
rally research must not stop at this point: it has to show how ik~
dry skeleton of economy is covered w ith the liv in g flesh of social
and political forms, and thenand this is the most interesting onj
most fascinatingsideof the problem of human ideas, feelings.aspi
rations and ideals. The investigator receives into his hands, one mav
say, dead matter (here the reader w ill see that we have even begun
to use partly the style of Mr. Kareyev), but an organism full
of life has to emerge from his hands. Marx succeeded in exhaust
in g and that, of course, only approxim atelysolely questions
which referred in the main to the material conditions of the period
he had selected. Marx died not a very old man. But if he had lived
another twenty years, he would probably still have continued
(apart again from, perhaps, in d iv id u a l monographs) to exhaust
the questions of the material conditions of the same period. And
this is what makes Mr. M ikhailovsky angry. W ith his arms akinv
bo, ho begins lecturing the famous thinker: How now, brother?...
only one pe rio d ... and that not fu lly .... No, I cant approve of
it, I sim ply cant.... W h y d id n t you follow D arw ins example?"
To all this subjective harangue the poor author of Capital only
replies w ith a deep sigh and a sad admission: Die Kunst ist lang
und kurz ist unser Leben! (Art is long and life is short! Ed.)
Mr. M ikhailovsky rapidly and sternly turns to the crowd
of followers of Marx: "In that case, what have you been doing,
why d idn 't you support the old m an, why havent you exhausted
all the periods?We had n't the time, Mr. Subjective Hero,
reply the followers, bowing from the waist, and cap in hand:
We had other things to thin k about, we were lighting against
those conditions of production which lie like a crushing yoke on
modern hum anity. D o n 't be hard on us! B ut, by the way, we hav<*
done something, all the same, and if you only give us time we will
do still more.
Mr. M ikhailovsky is a little mollified: So you yourselves now
see that it wasnt fully exhausted? Of course, how couldn't wo
but. see! And i t s not fully exhausted even among the D a r w i n i s t s . ^
and not even in subjective sociologyand th a ts a different story.
*
It is interesting that the opponents of Darwin long asserted, and fv.
up to the present day have not stopped asserting, that what's la c k in g in In4
theory is precisely a Mont Blanc of factual proofs. As is well known, Virc*10'*
spoke in this sense at the Congress of German Naturalists and Doctors a*
Munich in September 1877. Replying to him , Haeckel justly rem arked that*
if Darwins theory has not been proved by the facts which we know alren11"
no new facts w ill say anything in its favour.
THE DEVELOPM ENT OK THK MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY 649
Mention of the Darwinists arouses a new attack of irritation in

oUr author. W hat do you conic pestering me w ith Darwin for?
j,c shouts. Darwin was the passion of decent people, many pro
fessors approved of him : but who are the followers of Marx? O nly
workmen, and a few private bellmen of science, without diplomas
from anybody.
The dressing-down is assuming such an interesting character
that willy-nilly we continue to take notice of it.
"In his book on The Origin of the Fam ily, Engels says in passing
that Marxs Capital was hushed u p by the professional German
economists, and in his book Ludwig Feuerbach ho remarks that the
theoreticians of economic materialism from the outset addressed
themselves by preference to the working class, and here found the
response which they neither sought nor expected from officially
recognised science. To what extent are these facts correct, and
what is their significance? First of all, to hush u p anything valu
able for a long time is hardly possible even here in Russia, w ith all
the weakness and pettiness of our scientific and literary life.
All the more is it impossible in Germany w ith its numerous uni
versities, its general literacy, its innumerable newspapers and
sheets of every possible tendency, with tho importance of the part
played there not only by the printed but also the spoken word.
And if a certain number of the official high priests of science in
Germany did meet Capital at first in silence, this can hardly be
explained by the desire to hush u p the work of Marx. It would
bp more true to suppose that the motive for the silence was failure
to understand it, by the side of which there rapidly grew up both
warm opposition and complete respect; as a result, of which the
theoretical part of Capital very rapidly took an unquestionably
igh place in generally recognised science. Quite different has been
the fate of economic materialism as a historical theory, including
a those prospects in the direction of the future which are con
tained in Capital. Economic m aterialism, in spite of its halfCentury of existence, has not exercised up to the present any no'Ceuble influence in the sphere of learning, but is really spreading
vr.v rapidly in the working class.*
j
r,' a^ter a short silence, an opposition rapidly grew up. That
Sljch an extent is it a warm opposition, that not a single
tj.C. i.rer
receive the title of professor if he declares that even
*. 0Conoaiic theory of Marx is correct. To such an extent is it
r ,rm PPosition that any crammer, even the least talented, can
t c n un rapid promotion if he only succeeds in inventing even
uI>le of objections to Capital which w ill be forgotten by every-
Russkoye Bogatslvo, January 1894, Part II, pp. 115-16.
G. PLEK H A N O V
body the next day. Yes, it must be adm itte d a very wmiu on
sition.
1 po'
And complete respect.... T hats true also, Mr. Mikhailovsky
it is really respect. Exactly the same kind of respect with which
the Chinese must now be looking at the Japanese army: they figk!
well, and it's most unpleasant to come under their blows. With
such respect for the author of Capital the German professors werp
and still remain filled, up to the present day. And the cleverer
the professor, the more knowledge he has, the more respect he has
because all the more clearly does he realise that he stands no chance
of refuting C apital. That is why not a single one of the leading
lights of official science ventures to attack Capital. The leading
lights prefer to send into battle the young, inexperienced private
bellmen who want promotion.
No use to waste a clever lad,
You just send along Read
A nd I ' l l wait and see.**7
W ell, what can you say: great is respect of that kind. But wn
havent heard of any other kind of respect, and there can bo none
in any professorbecause they don't make a man a professor in
Germany who is filled w ith it.
B ut what does this respect show? I t shows the following. The
field of research covered by Capital is precisely that which h<us
already been worked over from the new point of view, from the
point of view of the historical theory of Marx. T hats why adver
saries dont dare to attack that field: they respect it". And that,
of course, is very sensible of the adversaries. B ut one needs to
have all the sim plicity of a subjective sociologist to ask with
surprise why these adversaries do nt up to this day set about cul
tivating the neighbouring fields w ith their own forces, in the spirit
of Marx. T hats a tall order, my dear hero! Even the one field
svorked over in this spirit gives us no rest! Even w ith that wo don t
know where to turn for trouble and you want us to cultivate the
neighbouring fields as well in the same system?! Mr. Mikhailov
sky is a bad judge of the inner essence of things, and therefore he
doesnt understand the destinies of economic materialism a? a
historical theory, or the attitude of the German professors to
prospects of the future" either. They havent time to think ahoii
the future, sir, when the present is slipping from under their fe*>
But after all, surely not all professors in Germany are to
an extenl saturated w ith the spirit of class struggle and
ic discipline? Surely there must bo specialists who think of no
ing else but science? Of course there must be, and
urnlly such men, and not only in Germany. But these special1*
precisely because they are specialists are entirely absorbe
THE DEVELOPM ENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 651

th e ir
subject! they are cultivating their own little plot in the scien
tific field. a"d ta^ e 1,0 interest in any general philosophical and
historical theories. Such specialists have rarely any idea of Marx,
and if they have, i t s usually of some unpleasant person who wor

ried someone, somewhere. IIow do you expect them to write in
the spirit of Marx? Their monographs usually contain absolutely
no spirit of philosophy. But here there takes place something sim i
lar to those cases when stones cry out, if men are silent. The spe
c ia lis t research workers themselves know nothing about the theory
()f .Marx; bul the results they have secured shout loudly in its fa
vour. And there is not a single serious specialist piece of research
in the history of political relations, or in the history of culture,
which does not confirm that theory in one way or another. There
are a number of astonishing examples which demonstrate to what
great extent the whole spirit of modern social science obliges the
specialist unconsciously to adopt the point of view' of the historical
theory of Marx (precisely the historical theory, Mr. Mikhailovsky).
The reader saw' earlier two examples of this k in d Oscar Peschel
and Giraud-Teulon. Now let us give a third. In his work: La Cite
Antique, the famous Fustel de Coulanges expressed the idea that
religious views lay at the bottom of all the social institutions of
antiquity. It would seem that he ought to have stuck to this idea
in studying in div id u a l questions of the history of Greece and Bome.
Hut Fustel de Coulanges had to touch on the question of the fa ll of
Sparta; and it turned out that, according to him , the reason for the
fall was purely economic.* He had occasion to touch on the ques
tion of the fall of tho Roman Republic: and once again he turned
to economics.** W hat conclusion can we draw? In particular cases
the man confirmed tho theory of Marx: but if you were to call
him a Marxist, he would probably begin waving both his arms in
protest, which would have given untold pleasure to Mr. Kareyev.
Rut what would you have, if not everybody is consistent to the
bitter end?
But, interrupts Mr. M ikhailovsky, allow me also to quole some
''samples. T u rn ing ... to ... the work of Bios , 418 we see that this
is a very worthy work which, however, bears no special signs of
a radical revolution in historical science. From what Bios says
hout tho class struggle and economic conditions (comparatively
l
* See his book, D u droit de propriiti a Sparte. We are not at all concerned
the view of the history of primitive property which it contains,

j.
II est assez visible pour quiconque a observe le ditail (precisely le
<lu i ^ 'r' Mikhailovsky) et les textes. que ce sont les interets materiels
Inti*
^ran<^ noir>bre qui en ont <H6 le vrai mobile, etc. (Histoire des instipolitiqtifs de Vancienne France. Les origines du system* fiodal, Paris,
P- 94). |"It jg sufficiently visible for anyone who has observed the details"
riaf0'
^
'h'tails, Mr. Mikhailovsky) and the texts, lhat it is the matemterests of the greatest number which were ils true motive force, etc.J
652
G. PLEK HA N O V
very little) it does not yet follow that ho builds his history on u
self-developinent of the forms of production and exchange- P
would bo even difficult to avoid mentioning economic conditj, **
in telling the story of tho events of 1848. Strike out of the book''f
Bios his panegyrics of Marx, as the creator of a revolution in hisu
ical science, and a few hackneyed phrases in Marxist term junior."
and you would not even imagine that you were dealing with frj|*
lower of economic materialism. In d iv id u al good pages of histori
cal content in the works of Engels, Kautsky and some others could
also do w ithout the label of economic materialism, as in prclip
they take into account the whole to tality of social life, even I hough
the economic string may prevail in this chord.*
Mr. M ikhailovsky evidently keeps firmly before him the proverb:
You called yourself a mushroom, now get into the basket . ||e
argues in this way: if you are an economic materialist, that menus
that you must keep your eyes fixed on the economic, and not dual
w ith the whole to tality of social life, even though the economic
string may prevail in this chord. B ut we have already re ported
to Mr. M ikhailovsky that the scientific task of the Marxists lies
precisely in this: having begun w ith the string, they must ex
plain the whole totality of social life. IIow can he expect them,
in that case, to renounce this task and to remain Marxists nt one
and the same time? Of course, Mr. M ikhailovsky has never wauled
to think seriously about the meaning of the task in question:
but naturally that is not the fault of the historical theory of Marx.
We quite understand that, so long as we dont renounce that
task, Mr. M ikhailovsky w ill often fall into a very difficult position:
often, when reading a good page of historical content he will
be very far from thinking (you w ouldnt even imagine) that it
has been written by an economic m aterialist. T hats what they
call landing in a mess! But is it Marx who is to blame that Mr.
M ikhailovsky w ill find himself so placed?
The Achilles of tho subjective school imagines that econonin
materialists must only talk about the self-development of i n
forms of production and exchange. W hat sort of a thing is ^ bn*
self-development, oh profound Mr. Mikhailovsky? If you *,n"'
gine that, in the opinion of Marx, the forms of production can de
velop of themselves, you are cruelly mistaken. W hat are l ,e
social relations of production? They are relations between u"n
How can they develop, then, w ithout men? If there were no
surely there would be no relations of production! The cheinis
says: matter consists of atoms which are grouped in moleculesthe molecules are grouped in more complex com binations*
Russkoye Bogatstvo, January 1894, Part I I , p. 117. [The referenc* *
to W. Bios, History of the German Revolution of 1848 (1891).!
the
D EVELO PM EN T OF T H E MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 653
cjieniical processes take place according to definite laws. From

this y u unexpectedly conclude that, in the chemists opinion,
jt p all a question of laws, lhat m atter atoms and molecules
needn't move at all, and that this w ouldnt in the least prevent
tlie self-development of chemical combinations. Everyone would
see the stupidity of such a conclusion. Unfortunately, not everyone
vet sees the stupidity of an exactly sim ilar (so far as its internal
value is concerned) contrasting of individuals to the laws of social
life, and of the activity of men to the internal logic of the form
j which they live together.
We repeat, Mr. M ikhailovsky, that the task of the new histor
ical theory consists in explaining the whole totality of social life"
by what you call the economic string, i.e., in reality the develop
ment of productive forces. The string is in a certain sense tho basis
(we have already explained in what particular sense): hut in vain
does Mr. M ikhailovsky thin k that the Marxist breathes only
with the string, like one of the characters in G. I. Uspenskys
"Budka . 449
It's a difficult job to explain the entire historical process, keep
ing consistently to one principle. But what would you have?
Science generally is not an easy job, providing only i t s not sub
jective science: in that, all questions are explained w ith amazing
ease. And since wo have mentioned it, we shall tell Mr. M ikhai
lovsky that it is possible that in questions affecting the develop
ment of ideology, even those best acquainted w ith the string
will sometimes prove powerless if they dont possess a certain
particular gift, namely artistic feeling. Psychology adapts itself
to economy. But this adaptation is a complex process, and in
order to understand its whole course and v iv id ly to represent it
to oneself and to others as it actually takes place, more than once
the talent of the artist, w ill be needed. For example, Balzac has
already done a great deal to explain the psychology of various
classes in the society in which he liv e d . 450 YVe can learn a lot from
Ibsen too, and from not a few more. Lets hope that in time there
jwll appear m any such artists, who w ill understand on the one
hand the iron laws of movement of the string , and on the other
will be able to understand and to show how, on the string and
precisely thanks to its movement, there grows up the living gar
ment of ideology. You will say that where poetical fantasy has
CriP' in there cannot but occur the whim of lhe artist, the guess^jorl, of fantasy. Of course, that is so: lhal will happen too. And
j i'\ knew it very well: thal is just why he says that we have strict> in distinguish between the economic condition of a given epoch.
Ij 1 ' can be determined with the exactness of natural science, and
\n\h>
-n<^'t' on
*ts êas. Much, very much is still obscure for us
h,s sphere. But. there is even more lhat is obscure for the ideal-
654
G. PLEK H A N O V
ists, and yet more for eclectics, who have never understood n
significance of the difficulties they encounter, im agining ihut a
w ill always be able to settle any question w ith the help 0f th ?'
notorious interaction". In reality, they never settle anythin'/
but only hide behind the back of the difficulties they e ncount/
H itherto, in tho words of Marx, concrete hum an activity has bc-J
explained solely from the idealist point of view. W ell, and wiiai
happened? D id they find many satisfactory explanations? Om
judgements on the activity of the hum an spirit" lack firm foun
dation and remind one of the judgements on nature pronounced
by the ancient Greek philosophers: at best we have hypotheses
of genius, sometimes merely ingenious suppositions, which, how
ever, it is impossible to confirm or prove, for lack of any fulcrum
of scientific proof. Something was achieved only in those cases
where they were forced to connect social psychology with the
string. And yet, when Marx noticed this, and recommended that
the attempts which had begun should not be abandoned, and said
that we must always be guided by the string, he was accused
of one-sidedness and narrow-mindedness! If there is any justice
in this, it is only the subjective sociologist, possibly, who knows
where it is.
Yes, you can talk, Mr. M ikhailovsky sarcastically continues:
your new discovery was made fifty years ago. Yes, Mr. Mikhai
lovsky, about that time! And all the more regrettable that you hav-p
still failed to understand it. Are there not many such discoveries
in science, made tens and hundreds of years ago, but still remain
ing unknown to m illions of personalities carefree in respect of
science? Imagine that you have met a Hottentot and are trying
to convince him that the earth revolves around the sun. The Hot
tentot has his own original theory, both about the sun and about
the earth. It is difficult for him to part w ith his theory. And so lie
begins to be sarcastic: you come to mo w ith your new discovery,
and yet you yourself say that i t s several hundred years old!
W hat w ill the H ottentots sarcasm prove? O nly that the Holtenlot
is a Hottentot. But then that did not need to be proved.
However, Mr. M ikhailovskys sarcasm proves a great deal more
than would be proved by the sarcasm of a Hottentot. It proves that
our sociologist belongs to the category of people who forget their
kinship. His subjective point of view has been inherited from Brnno
Bauer, Szeliga and other predecessors of Marx in the chronologic
sense. Consequently, Mr. M ikhailovskys discovery is in anv case
a b it older than ours, even chronologically, while in its in te r n a l
content it is much older, because the historical idealism of Bruno
Bauer was a return to the views of the materialists of last century*
As for the application of biology to the solution of social problefl^j
Mr. Mikhailovskys discoveries date, as we have seen, in their "natur
THF PEVF.TOPMF.NT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 655

M r . M i k h a i l o v s k y i s v e r y w o r r i t ' d b e c a u s e the b o o k o f t h e Amer
ican M o r g a n o n a n c i e n t s o c i e t y a p p e a r e d m a n y y e a r s a f t e r
M a r x a n d Engels h a d a d v a n c e d t h e f u n d a m e n t a l p r i n c i p l e s o f
prononiic m a t e r i a l i s m ,482 a n d q u i t e " i n d e p e n d e n t l y o f i t " . To
we shall observe:
In the first place, M organs book is not independent" of socalled economic materialism for the simple reason that Morgan
himself adopts that view-point, as Mr. M ikhailovsky w ill easily
for himself if he reads the book to which he refers. True, Mor
gan arrived at the view-point of economic materialism independent
ly of Morx and Engels, but th a ts all the better for their theory.
Secondly, w hats wrong if the theory of Marx and Engels was
"many years later confirmed by ihe discoveries of Morgan? We
are convinced th a l there w ill yet be very many discoveries con
firming that theory. As to Mr. M ikhailovsky, 011 the other hand,
we are convinced of the contrary: not a single discovery w ill justify
the "subjective point of view, either in five years or in five thou
sand.
From one of Engels prefaces Mr. M ikhailovsky has learned
that the knowledge of the author of the Condition of the Working
Class in E ngland , and of his friend Marx, in the sphere of economic
history was in the 40s inadequate (the expression of Engels h im
self) . 463 Mr. M ikhailovsky skips and jumps on this subject: so
you see, the entire theory of economic materialism, which
arose precisely in the 40s. was b u ilt on an inadequate foundation.
This is a conclusion worthy of a w itty fourth-form schoolboy.
A grown-up person would understand that, in their application to
scientific knowledge as to everything else, the expressions ade
quate, inadequate , little ", l'ig must be taken in their relative
sense. After the fundamental principles of the new historical theo
ry had been proclaimed Marx and Engels went on living for several
decades. They zealously studied economic history, and achieved
vast successes in that sphere, which is particularly easy to under
stand in view of their unusual capacity. Thanks to these successes,
their former inform ation must have seemed to them inadequate
"I this does not yet prove that their theory was unfounded. Darwjn s book on the origin of species appeared in 1859. One can say
" ilh certainty that, ten years later, Darwin already thought inadeqiiate the knowledge which he possessed when his book was
Puhlished. B ut what does that matter?
M ikhailovsky displays not a little irony also on the theme
hat "for the theory which claimed to throw light on world history.
erip*"
irni*
y
present century. Very respectable ancients nro the discovMikhailovskyl In them the Russian mind and Russian soul"
repeats old stuff and lies for /too .461
656
G. PLEK HAN OV
forty years after it had been enunciated (i.e., allegedly up | 0

appearance of Morgans book) ancient Greek and German hisi
remained an unsolved problem.* This irony is only founded 0*^
misunderstanding.
11 11
That the class struggle underlay Greek and Roman history ,-0l|i
not but be known to Marx and Engels at the end of the /jOj, j'f
only for the simple reason that it had already been known to n,
Greek and Rom an writers. Read Thucydides, Xenophon, Arisiotle, read the Roman historians, even though it be Livy, who in his
description of events too often passes, by the way, to a suhjiT.
live point of view and in each of them you will lirid t h e I'm,,
conviction that economic relations, and the struggle of classes
which they aroused, were the foundation of the internal h i s t o r y
of the societies of that day. This conviction took in them the direct
form of the simple recording of a simple, well-known everyday
fact: although in Polybius there is already something in the naloro
of a philosophy of history, based on recognition of this fact. How
ever that may be, the fact was recognised by all, and dors
Mr. M ikhailovsky really think that Marx and Engels had not r e a d
the ancients? W hat remained unsolved problems for Marx Mini
Engels, as for a ll men of learning, were questions concerning the
forms of prehistoric life in Greece and Rome and among the Ger
man tribes (as Mr. M ikhailovsky himself says elsewhere). These
were the questions answered by Morgans book. But does our anlhor
by any chance imagine that no unsolved questions in biology ex
isted for Darwin at the time he wrote his famous book?
r^ The category of necessity, continues Mr. Mikhailovsky, "is
so universal and unchallengeable that it embraces even the most
fa n ta s tic hopes and the most senseless apprehensions, with which
it apparently has been called upon to fight. From its point of view,
the hope of breaking through a wall by striking it w ith ones fore
head is not stupidity but necessity, just as Quasimodo was not a
hunchback but necessity, Cain and Judas were not evil-doers hut
necessity. In brief, if we are guided in practical life only by neces
sity, we come into some fantastic, boundless expanse where (hero
are no ideas and things, no phenomena, but only inconspicuous
shadows of ideas and things.** Just so, Mr. Mikhailovsky. P'-en
deformities of all kinds represent just, as much a product of nee1'sity as the most normal phenomena, although it does not a I a
follow from this that Judas was not a crim inal, since it is al>s" n
to contrast th e conception of crim inal w ith the conception >
necessity . But if. my dear sir, you are aspiring to the rank
hero (and every subjective thinker is a hero, so to speak, by |>r
* Riisskoye Bogatstvo, January 1894, Part II, p. 108,
** Ib id ., pp. 113-14.
___ THE DEVELOPM ENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 657
ssion), then try and prove that you are not a mad hero, that
our hopes are not fantastic, that your apprehensions are
* "senseless, that you are not a Quasimodo in ibought, L h a t
'ou are not in v itin g tho crowd to break through a wall w ith its
forehead. In order to prove all this, you should have to turn to
he c a te g o r y of necessity: but you don't know how to operate w ith
your subjective point of view excludes the very possibility of
such operations. Thanks to this category, reality for you be
com es the kingdom of shadows. Now th a ts just where you get into
yoUr blind alley, i t s at this point you sign the testimonium
p n u p o r ta t is for your sociology, i t s just here that you begin
a s s e r tin g t h a l the category of necessity proves nothing, because
allegedly i t proves loo much. A certificate of theoretical poverty
is th o only document with which you supply your followers,
s e a r c h in g for higher things. I t s not very much, Mr. Mikhailovsky!
A to in-tit asserts that it is a heroic bird and, in that capacity,
it would think nothing of setting fire to the sea. 484 When it is in v it
ed to explain on what physical or chemical laws is founded its
plan for setting tiro to the sea, it linds itself in difficulties and,
in order to get out of them somehow, begins m uttering in a m el
ancholy and scarcely audible whisper that laws is only a man
ner of speaking, but in reality laws explain nothing, and one cant
found any plans on them; that one must hope for a lucky accident ,
since it has long been known that at a pinch you can shoot w ith
a stick too; bul that generally speaking la raison fin it tonjours par
amir raison. W hat a thoughtless and unpleasant bird!
Let us compare w ith this indistinct muttering of the tom-tit
Hie courageous, astonishingly harmonious, historical philosophy
d Marx.
Our anthropoid ancestors, like all other anim als, were in com
plete subjection to nature. A ll their development was that com
pletely unconscious development which was conditioned by adapta
tion to their environment, by means of natural selection in the
struggle for existence. This was the dark kingdom of physical neces
sity. At that time even the dawn of consciousness, and therefore of
freedom, was not breaking. B ut physical necessity brought man
tf> a stage of development at which he began, little by little , to
separate himself from the remaining anim al world. He became
u tool-making anim al. The tool is an organ w ith the help of which
roan acts on nature to achieve his ends. It is an organ which sub
jects necessity to the hum an consciousness, although at first only
*o u very weak degree, by fits and starts, if one can put it that way.
1"d degree of development of the productive forces determines the
measure of the authority of man over nature.
Hie development of the productive forces is itself determined
y Hio qualities of the geographical environment surrounding man.
*- 01329
658
G. P LEK H A N O V
In this way nature itself gives man the means for its own
i
lion.
SUbj,!C~
B ut man is not struggling w ith nature in divid ually ; the stru r 1
w ith her is carried on, in the expression of Marx, by social
(der Gesellschaftsmensch), i.e., a more or less considerable so'8*!
union. The characteristics of social man are determined at We
given time by the degree of development of the productive force*
because on the degree of the development of those forces depends
the entire structure of tho social union. Thus, this structure is
determined in the long run by the characteristics of the geograph
ical environment, which affords men a greater or lesser possibi
lity of developing their productive forces.* But once definite
social relations have arisen, their further development takes place
according to its own inner laws, the operation of which accelerates
or retards the development of the productive forces which con
ditions the historical progress of man. The dependence of man on
his geographical environment is transformed from direct to indi
rect. The geographical environment influences man through tho
social environment. But thanks to this, the relationship of man with
his geographical environment becomes extremely changeable.
A t every new stage of development of the productive forces it
proves to be different from what it was before. The geographical
environment influenced the Britons of Caesars time quite other
wise than it influences the present inhabitants of Great Britain.
That is how modern dialectical materialism resolves the contradic
tions w ith which the writers of the Enlightenm ent of the eigh
teenth century could not cope.**
The development of the social environment is subjected to its own
laws. This means that its characteristics depend just as little on
the w ill and consciousness of men as the characteristics of the
geographical environment. The productive action of man on na
ture gives rise to a new form of dependence of man, a new variety
of his slavery: economic necessity. And the greater grows man's
* [See Editor's Note on pp. 585-86.]
** Montesquieu said: once the geographical environment is given. lu*
characteristics of the social union are also given. In one geographical environ
ment only despotism can exist, in anotheronly small independent reiJJ?"*
can societies, etc. No, replied Voltaire: in one and the same geographical
environment there appear in the course of time various social relations, ana
consequently geographical environment has no influence on the historical
fate of mankind. It is all a question of the opinions of men. Montesquieu
saw one side of the antinomy, Voltaire and his supporters another: the anti
nomy was usually resolved only with the help of interaction. Dial*?":S
materialism recognises, as we see, the existence of interaction, but
it by pointing to the development of the productive forces. The 0I,.,,n jS r
which the writers of the Enlightenment could at best only hide away in tj1
pockets, is resolved very simply. Dialectical reason, here too, proves infini
stronger than the common sense (reason) of the writers of the E n lig hten n ie
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y 659
uthority over nature, the more his productive forces develop, the
aiore stab le becomes this new slavery: with the development of the
reductive forces the m utual relations: of men in the social process of

production become more complex; the course of that process com
pletely slips from under their control, the producer proves to be the
slave of his own creation (as an example, the capitalist anarchy of
production).
But just as the nature surrounding man itself gave him the first
opportunity to dovelop his productive forces and, consequently,
gradually lo emancipate himself from natures yokeso the rela
tions of production, social relations, by the very logic of their de
velopment bring man to realisation of tho causes of his enslave
ment by economic necessity. This provides the opportunity for a
new and final trium ph of consciousness over necessity, of reason
over blind law.
Having realised that the cause of his enslavement by his own
creation lies in the anarchy of production, the producer (social
man) organises that production and thereby subjects it to his
will. Then terminates the kingdom of necessity, and there begins
the reign of freedom, which itself proves to be necessity. The pro
logue of hum an history has been played out, history begins.*
*
After all that has been said it w ill be clear, we hope, what is thejrelation between the teaching of Marx and the teaching of Darwin. Darwin
succeeded in solving the problem of how there originate vegetable and animal
species in the struggle for existonce. Marx succeeded in solving the problem
of how there arise different types of social organisation in the struggle of
men for their existence. Logically, the investigation of Marx begins precise
ly where the investigation of Darwin ends. Animals and vegetables are
under the influence of their physical environment. The physical environment
acts on social man through those social relations which arise on the basis
of tbe productive forces, which at first develop more or less quickly according
to the characteristics of the physical environment. Darwin explains the
origin of species not by an allegedly innate tendency to develop in the animal
organism, as Lamarck did, but by the adaptation of the organism to the
conditions existing outside it: not by the nature of the organism but by the
influence of external nature. Marx explains the historical development of
non not by the nature of man, but by the characteristics of those social
Wotions between men which arise when social man is acting on external nature.
. ^ spirit of their research is absolutely the same in both thinkers. That
J.wny one can say that Marxism is Darwinism in its application to social
^'ifnce (we know that chronologically this is not so, but that is unimportant),
jjnrt lhat is its only scientific application; because tho conclusions which were
from Darwinism by some bourgeois writers were not its scientific
ppiication to the study of tho development of social man, but a mere bourvki*S P*a a moral sermon with a very ugly content, just as the subjectiwhr. enR aS? in sermons with a beautiful content. The bourgeois writers,
" referring to Darwin, were in reality recommending to their readers
m l te scientific method of Darwin, but only the bestial instincts of those aniWritl rUt w*10m Darwin wrote. Marx forgathers with Darwin: the bourgeois
rs forgather with the beasts and cattle which Darwin studied.
42*
660
G. P LEK HA NO V
Thus dialectical materialism not only does not strive, as it<,

pononts attribute to it, to convince man that it is absurd lo r
against economic necessity, but it is the first to point out. ft8 , *
overcome the latter. Thus is elim inated the inevitably '
character inherent in metaphysical materialism. And in ex. ! f l
the same way is elim inated every foundation for that pessirnj.,
to which, as we saw, consistent idealist thinking leads of necossh
The in d iv id u a l personality is only foam on the crest of the wave
men are subjected to an iron law which can only be discovered
but which cannot be subjected to the hum an w ill, said Gpore
Buchner. No, replies Marx: once we have discovered that iron law
it depends on us to overthrow its yoke, it depends on us lo make
necessity the obedient slave of reason.
I am a worm, says the idealist. I am a worm while I ain ignorant
retorts the dialectical materialist: but 1 am a god when I know
Tantum possum us, quantum scimus (wo can do as much us wo
know . Ed.)\
And it is against this theory, which for the first time
lhe rights of human reason on firm foundations, which was tho
first that began exam ining reason, not as the impotent plaything
of accident but as a great and invincible force, that they revolt
in the name of the rights of that same reason which it is alleged
to be treading underfoot, in the name of ideals which it is alleged
to despise! And this theory they dare to accuse of quietism, of
striving to reconcile itself w ith its environment and almost of
ingratiating itself w ith the environment, as Molchalin ingratiated
himself with all who were superior to him in rank! Truly one may
say that here is a case of laying ones own fault at another man's
door.
Dialectical m aterialism* says that hum an reason could not bo
the demiurge of history, because it is itself the product of history
But once that product has appeared, it must n o t and in its nature
it cannot be obedient to the reality handed down as a heritage by
previous history; of necessity it strives to transform that reality
after its own likeness and image, to make it reasonable.
Dialectical materialism says, like Goethes Faust:
established
Im A nfang war die That\

[In the Beginning was the Deedl]
*
We use the terra dialectical materialism because it alone can
an accurate description of tlie philosophy of Marx. Holbach and Helvi'li11
were metaphysical materialists. They fought against metaphysical idealityTheir materialism gave way to dialectical Idealism, which in its turn
overcome by dialectical materialism. The expression economic
is extremely inappropriate. Marx never called himself an economic ni
rialist.
^ J THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 6(51
Action (the activity of men in conformity to law in the social

rocess of production) explains to the dialectical materialist the
fist o ri cal development of the reason of social m an.* It is to
action also that is reduced all his practical philosophy. Dialectical

materialism is ihe philosophy of action.
When the subjective thinker says my ideal", ho thereby says:
the triumph of blind necessity. The subjective thinker is unable
(0 found his ideal upon the process of development of reality;
mid therefore immediately beyond the walls of the tiny little gar
den of his ideal there begins the boundless lield of chanceand
consequently, of blind necessity. Dialectical materialism points
out the methods w ith the help of which all that boundless field
run be transformed into the flourishing garden of the ideal. It only
yiiil.H that the means for this transformation are buried in the heart
of Hint same field, that one only must discover them and be able to use
them.
Unlike subjectivism, dialectical materialism does not lim it the
rights of hum an reason. It knows that the rights of reason are as
boundless and unlim ited as ils powers. It says thal. all that is rea
sonable in the human head, i.e., all that represents not an illusion
but the true knowledge of reality, w ill unquestionably pass into
that reality, and w ill unquestionably bring into it its own share
of reason.
From this one can see what constitutes, in the opinion of dialec
tical materialists, the role of the individual in history. Far from
reducing the role to zero, they put before the in d iv id ua l a task
whichto make use of the customary though incorrect term one
must recognise as completely and exceptionally idealistic. As human
reason can trium ph over blind necessity only by becoming aware
of the latters peculiar inner laws, only by beating it w ith its own
strong I h , the development of knowledge, the development of hu
man consciousness, is the greatest and most noble t ask of the th in k
ing personality. Licht, mehr L icht!450 lhat is what is most of
all needed.
H has long ago been said that no one kindles a torch in order to
leave it under a bushel. So that the dialectical materialist, adds
that one should not leave the torch in the narrow study of the intidlectiiar. So long as there exist heroes who imagine that it is
sufficient for them to enlighten their own heads to be able to lead
10 crowd wherever they please, and to mould it, like clay, into
a,,ything that comes into their heads, the kingdom of reason re
gains a pretty phrase or a noble dream. It begins to approach us
t!ioorvfC*a^ ^
' s essenl*ally practical. All mysteries which mislead
Co,..' u mysticism find their rational solution in human practice and in the
Prehension of this practice.455
662
G. P LE K H A N O V
w ith seven-league strides only when the crowd itself becomes IK

hero of historical action, and when in it, in that colourless crowd
there develops the appropriate consciousness of self. Develon h
man consciousness, we said. Develop the self-consciousness of tU
producers, we now add. Subjective philosophy seems to us harTO?
ful just because it prevents the intelligentsia from helping in
development of that self-consciousness, opposing heroes to tho
crowd, and im agining that the crowd is no more than a totality of
ciphers, the significance of which depends only on the ideals of
the hero who gives them the lead.
If theres only a marsh, therell be devils enough, says the popu
lar proverb in its coarse way. If there are only heroes, therell
be a crowd for them, say the subjectivists; and these heroes are we
ourselves, the subjective intelligentsia. To this we reply: your
contrasting of heroes to the crowd is mere conceit and therefore
self-deception. And you w ill remain m ere... talkers, until you
understand that for the trium ph of your own ideals yon must elim
inate the very possibility of such contrasting, you must awaken
in the crowd the heroic consciousness of self.*
Opinions govern the world, said the French materialists, w p
are the representatives of opinion, thereforo we are the demiurges
of history: we are the heroes, and for the crowd it remains only to
follow us.
This narrowness of views corresponded to the exceptional posi
tion of tho French writers of the Enlightenm ent. They were repre
sentatives of the bourgeoisie.
Modern dialectical materialism strives for the elim ination of
classes. It appeared, in fact, when that elim ination became an
historical necessity. Therefore it turns to the producers, who ore
to become the heroes of the historical period lying immediately
ahead. Therefore, for the first tim e since our world has existed
and the earth has been revolving around the sun, there is taking
place the coming together of science and workers: science hastens
to the aid of the toiling mass, and the to ilin g mass relies on the
conclusions of science in its conscious movement.
If all this is no more than metaphysics, we really dont know
what our opponents call metaphysics.
,
.
B ut all you say refers only to the realm of prophecy. It s aI
mere guesswork, which assumes a somewhat systematic form on*>
because of the tricks of Hegelian dialectics. T hats why wo ca
you metaphysicians, reply the subjectivists.
*
"Mit der Griindlichkeit der geschichtlichen Action wird der Umfn S
der Masse zunehmen, deren Action sie ist. Marx, Die heilige FamiHe- S-. " j
[Together with the thoroughness of the historical action will grow the vow
of the mass whose action it is.l
the
development
of t h e
m o n is t
v ie w
OF H IST O RY 003
\V'e have already shown that to drag tho triad into our dispute
i possible only when one has not the least idea of it. We have
already shown that with Hegel himself it never played the part of
an argum ent, and that it was not at all a distinguishing feature of
j , i s philosophy. We have also shown, we make bold to think, that
it is not references to the triad but scientific investigation of the
historical process that constitutes the strength of historical mate
rialism . Therefore we m ight now pay no attention to this retort.
But we think it w ill not be useless for tho reader to recall the fol
lowing interesting fact in the history of Russian literature in the
70 s.
When examining Capital, Mr. Y , Zhukovsky remarked 457
Ihiii the author in his guesses, as people now say, relies only on
"formal considerations, and that his line of argument represents
only an unconscious play upon notions. This is what the late
N. Sii'ber replied to this charge:
We remain convinced that the investigation of the material
problem everywhere in Marx precedes tho formal side of his work.
We believe that, if Mr. Zhukovsky had road Marx's book more
attentively and more dispassionately, he would himself have
agreed with us in this. He would then undoubtedly have seen that
it is precisely by investigating the material conditions of the pe
riod of capitalist development in which wc are liv in g that the au
thor of Capital, proves that, m ankind sets itself only such tasks as
it can solve. Marx step by step leads his readers through the laby
rinth of capitalist production and, analysing all its component ele
ments, makes us understand its provisional character.*
Lei, us ta k e ... factory industry, continues N. Sieber, with
its uninterrupted changing from hand to hand at every operation,
with its feverish motion which throws workmen almost every day
from one factory to another. Do not its material conditions repre
sent a preparatory environment for new forms of social order, of
social co-operation? Does not tho operation of periodically repeat
ed economic crises movo in the same direction? Is it not to the
same end that the narrowing of markets, the reduction of the worklng day, the rivalry of various countries in the general market,
and the victory of large-scale capital over capital of insignificant
dimensions tend?... Pointing out also the incredibly rapid growth
the productive forces in the process of development of capitallstti, N. Sieber again asks: Or are all those not material, but
Purely formal transformations?... Is not a real contradiction of
capitalist, production, for example, the circumstance that period
ically it floods the world market with goods, and forces m illions
w
Sieber. Some Remarks on the Article of Mr. Y. Zhukovsky Karl

r5t.and His Book on Capital ' (Otechestvennlye Zaplski, November 1877, p. 0).
664
G. PLEK HA NO V
to starve at a time when there are too many articles of consn

tion?... Is it not a real contradiction of capitalism, furthermor^**'
one which, he it said in passing, Ihe owners of capital lheinsel~T
w illingly ad m itlhat it sets free a great number from work nnd
at the same time complains of lack of working hands? Is it n('.
a real contradiction that the means for reducing physical labour
such as mechanical and other improvements and betterments*
are transformed by it into means for lengthening the working
day? Is it not a real contradiction that, while proclaiming ||K.
inviolability of property, capitalism deprives the majoritv ,,)
the peasants of land, and keeps Ihe vast m ajority of the populatimi
on a mere pittance? Is all this, and much else, mere metaphysics
non-existent in reality? But it is sufficient to take up any issue
of the English Economist to become immediately convinced of
tho contrary. And so the investigator of present social and econom
ic conditions does not have artificially to adapt capitalist pro
duction to preconceived formal and dialectical contradictions:
he has more than enough real contradictions to last him his
lifetime.
Siebers reply, convincing in ils content, was m ild in its form.
Very different was the character of the reply to the same Mr. Zhu
kovsky which followed from Mr. Mikhailovsky.
Our worthy subjectivist even up to the present day understands
the work, which he then defended, extremely narrowly", not tu
say one-sidedly, and even tries to convince others that his one
sided understanding is the proper assessment of the book. Natu
rally, such a person could not be a reliable defender of Capital;
and his reply was therefore filled with the most childish curiosi
ties. Here, for example, is one of them. The charge against \hirv
of formalism and of abusing Hegelian dialectics was supported
by Mr. Zhukovsky w ith a quotation, among other things, from
a passage in the preface to the Critique of Political Econo/ini'
Mr. Mikhailovsky found that Marxs opponent rightly saw a relli'Clion of Hegelian philosophy in this preface, and that if Mars
had only written this preface to the Critique , M r. Zhukovsky
would have been quite right",* i.e., it would have been proved
that Marx was only a formalist and Hegelian. Here Mr. Mikhai
lovsky so successfully missed the mark, and to such a degree
exhausted the act of missing the mark, thal willy-nilly "no
asks oneself, had our then hopeful young author read the prefac
ho was quoting?** One might refer to several other similar curi
osities (one of them w ill be mentioned later on): but they are nol
the question at issue here. However badly Mr. M i k h a i l o v s k y
* N. K. Mikhailovsky, Works, Vol. II, p. 356.
** In this passage Marx sots forth his materialist conception of bisi )
the
development
of t h e
m o n is t
V I E W OF H IST O RY 005
iiilerstood Marx, he nevertheless saw immediately that Mr. ZhukoV'ky had talked nonsense about f o r m a lis m and had neverthe
less re a lise d that such nonsense is the simple product of uncerewoni-ousness.
If Marx had said, Mr. Mikhailovsky justly observed, that
the la"'
development of modern society is such that itself it
spontaneously negates its previous condition, and then negates
this negation, reconciling the contradictions of the stages gone
through in the unity of individual and communal property: if
he had said this and only this (albeit in many pages), he would
have been a pure Hegelian, building laws out of the depths of
his spirit, and resting on principles that were purely formal,
i.e., independent of content. But everyone who has read Capital
knows that he said more than this. In the words of Mr. M ikhailov
sky. the Ilegolian formula can just as easily be removed from the
economic content allegedly forced into it by Marx as a glove from
the hand or a hat from the head. Regarding the stages of eco
nomic development passed through there can be hardly any
doubts.... Just as indubitable is the further course of the process:
the concentration of the means of production more and more
in a smaller number of hands. As regards the future there can,
of course, be doubts. Marx considers that as the concentration
of capital is accompanied by the socialisation of labour, the
latter is what w ill constitute the economic and moral basis (how
can socialisation of labour constitute the moral basis? And
what about the self-development of forms?G.P.) on which
the new legal and political order w ill grow up. Mr. Zhukovsky
was fully entitled to call this guesswork, but had 110 right (moral
right, of course. G. P.) to pass by in complete silence the sig
nificance which Marx attributes to the process of socialisation.*
The whole of C a p ita l Mr. Mikhailovsky rightly remarks,
is devoted to the study of how a social form, once it has arisen,
constantly develops, intensifies its typical features, subordinating
to itself and assimilating (?) discoveries, inventions, improve
ments in the means of production, new markets, science itself,
forcing them to work for it, and how finally the given form be
comes incapable of withstanding further changes of the material
conditions.**
W ith Marx it is precisely the analysis of the relations b e tw e e n
tho social form (i.e., of capitalism, Mr. Mikhailovsky, is n t
that so?G.P.) and the material conditions of its existence
U-e., the productive forces which make the existence of the capi
talist form of production more and more unstable, isnt, that so,
* N. K. Mikhailovsky,
* Ib id ., p . 357.
IVorA-s, Vol. II, pp. 353-54.
666
G. P LE K H A N O V
Mr. M ikhailovsky?G.P.) that w ill always remain a m onuim .

of the logical system and vast erudition of the author. Mr Z h ^
kovsky h a s the moral courage to assert that this is tho quest i '
which Marx evades. Theres nothing more one can do here n
remains only to watch w ith amazement the further p u z z lin o
exercises of the critic, performing his somersaults for the amuse!
ment of the public, part of which undoubtedly w ill understand
at once that a courageous acrobat is performing before it, whi)
anolher part may perchance attribute quite a different m e a n in g
to this amazing spectacle."*
Summa summarum: if Mr. Zhukovsky accused Marx of formal
ism, this charge, in the words of Mr. M ikhailovsky, represented
one big lie composed of a number of little lies".
Severe is the sentence, but absolutely just. And if it was just
in respect of Zhukovsky, it is just also in relation to all those
who now repeat that the guesses of Marx are based only on the
Hegelian triad. And if that sentence is just in respect of all such
people, then ... have the goodness to read the following extract:
He [Marx] to such an extent filled the empty dialectical scheme
with a content of fact that it could be removed from that content,
as a cover from a cup, without changing anything, without dam
aging anything except for one pointtrue, of vast importance.
Namely, regarding the future, the im m anent laws of society
are formulated only dialectically. For the orthodox Hegelian
it is sufficient to say that negation must be followed by the
negation of the negation'; but those who are not privy to Ilie
Hegelian wisdom cannot be satisfied with that, for them a dialec
tical deduction is not a proof, and a non-Hegelian who lias
believed it must know that be has only believed it, not been con
vinced by it.**
M r. Mikhailovsky has pronounced his own sentence.
Mr. M ikhailovsky knows himself that ho is now repeating tho
words of Mr. Y . Zhukovsky regarding the formal character
of Marx's arguments in favour of his guesses . He has not for
gotten h is article K arl Marx Before the Judgement of Mr. Y. Zhu
kovsky , and even fears lest his reader m ight recall it at somo
untim ely moment. Therefore he begins by making it appear
that he is saying the same now as he said in the 70s. W ith this
object he repeats that the dialectical scheme may be r e m o v e d
like a cover, etc. Then there follows only one point in relation
to which Mr. M ikhailovsky, unbeknown to his reader, is compl'*1'1'
ly at one with Mr. Y . Zhukovsky. B ut this one point is tho
* Ibid., pp. 357-58.

** Ilusskoye Bogatstvo, February 1894, Part I I , pp. 150-51.
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OP H IS T O R Y 667
same point, of "vast importance which served as a pretext for

exposing Mr. Zhukovsky as an acrobat.
In 1877 Mr. M ikhailovsky said that Marx in relation lo the
future also, i.e., precisely in relation to one point of vast impor
tance, did not confine himself to a reference to Hegel. Now it
appears from Mr. M ikhailovsky lhat he did so confine himself.
In 1877 Mr. M ikhailovsky said thal Marx w ith astonishing logi
cal force , with vast erudition, demonstrated how the given
form (i-c., capitalism) becomes incapable of withstanding
further changes in the material conditions of its existence. That
referred precisely to one point of vast importance. Now
Mr. Mikhailovsky has forgotten how much that was convincing
Marx had said about this point, and how much logical strength
and vast erudition he had displayed in doing so. In 1877
Mr. Mikhailovsky wondered at lhe moral courage w ith which
Mr. Zhukovsky had passed over in silence the fact that Marx, in
confirmation of his guesses, had referred to the socialisation of
labour which was already taking place in capitalist society.
Tins also had reference to one point of vast importance. At
tho present day Mr. M ikhailovsky assures his readers that Marx
on this point is guessing purely dialectically. In 1877 everyone
who has read CapitaV knew that Marx said more than this.
Now it turns out that he said only this, and that the conviction
of his followers as to the future holds exclusively by the end
of a Hegelian threetailed chain".* W hat a turn, with God's help!
Mr. M ikhailovsky has pronounced his own sentence, and knows
that he has pronounced it.
But what made Mr. M ikhailovsky bring himself under the
operation of the ruthless sentence he himself had pronounced?
Did this man who so passionately, once upon a time, exposed
literary acrobats , in his old age himself feel an inclination to
tho acrobatic art? Are such transformations really possible?
AH transformations are possible, oh reader! And people w ith
whom such transformations occur are worthy of every condemna
tion. I t is not we who w ill justify them. B u t even they should
he treated as human creatures, as people say. Remember the
profoundly humane words of the author of the Comments on M ill:
when a man behaves badly, it is often not so much his fault as
his misfortune. Remember what the same author said about
the literary activity of N. A. Polevoi:
N. A. Polevoi was a follower of Cousin, whom he considered
to be the solver of all riddles and the greatest philosopher in the
wOfld...... The follower of Cousin could not reconcile himself
to the Hegelian philosophy, and when the Hegelian philosophy
* Ib id .. r- 166.
663
G. P LEK HA N O V
penetrated into Russian literature, the pupils of Cousin tnr

out to be backward people; and there was nothing m orally crimi *}
011 their part in the fact, that they defended their convictior
and called stupid that which was said by people who had oi't
distanced them in intellectual progress. One cannot accuse a nv
because others, gifted w ith fresher forces and greater resolution
have outpaced him . They are right because they are nearer to
the truth, but it is not his fault: he is only mistaken.*
Mr. M ikhailovsky all his life has been an eclectic. He could
not reconcile himself to the historical philosophy of Marx by the
very make-up of his m ind, by the whole character of his previous
philosophical educationif one can use such an expression in
connection w ith Mr. M ikhailovsky. When the ideas of Marx
began to penetrate into Russia, he tried at first to defend them
and even then did not do so, naturally, w ithout numerous reser
vations and very considerable failures to understand . He thought
then that he would be able to grind down these ideas, too, in
his eclectical m ill, and thereby introduce s till greater variety
into his intellectual diet. Then he saw that the ideas of Marx
are not at all suitable as decorations for those mosaics which
are called world outlook in the case of eclectics, and that, their
diffusion threatens to destroy the mosaics he loves so well. So
he declared war against these ideas. Of course he immediately
turned out to be lagging behind intellectual progress: but really
it seems to us that it is not his fault, that he is only making
a mistake.
But then all that does not justify acrobatics!
And we are not attem pting to justify them: we are only pointing
out extenuating circumstances. Quite w ithout noticing it,
Mr. M ikhailovsky, owing to the development of Russian social
thought, has fallen into a state from which one can only get out by
means of acrobatics. There is, true, another way out, but only
a man filled w ith genuine heroism would choose it. Thai way
out is lo lay down the arms of eclecticism.
*
Sketches of the Gogol Period in Russian Literature, St. Petersburg*
1892, pp. 24-25. [Tho author in question is N. G. Chernyshevsky.]
CONCLUSION
Up to this point, in setting forth the ideas of Marx, we have
been principally examining those objections which are put for
ward against him from the theoretical point of view. Now it is
useful for us to become acquainted also w ith the practical
reason of at any rate a certain part of his opponents, in doing
so we shall use the method of comparative history. In other words
we shall first see how tho practical reason of the German Uto
pians met the ideas of Marx, and w ill thereafter turn to the reason
of our dear and respected fellow countrymen.
At the end of the 40s Marx and Engels had an interesting dispute
with the well-known K arl Heinzen . 458 The dispute at once as
sumed a very warm character. Karl Heinzen tried to laugh out of
court, as they call it, the ideas of his opponents, and displayed
a skill in this occupation which in no way was inferior to the
skill of Mr. Mikhailovsky. Marx and Engels, naturally, paid
back in k in d .459 The affair did not pass off without some sharp
speaking. Heinzen called Engels a thoughtless and insolent
urchin; Marx called Heinzen a representative of der grobianischen Literatur , and Engels called him the most ignorant man
of the century . 460 But what did the argument turn about? W hat
views did Heinzen attribute to Marx and Engels? They were
these. Heinzen assured his readers that from the point of view
of Marx there was nothing to be done in Germany of that day by
anyone filled w ith any generous intentions. According to Marx,
said Heinzen, there must first arrive the supremacy of the bour
geoisie, which must manufacture the factory proletariat , which
only then w ill begin acting on its own.*
Mnrx and Engels did not take into account that proletariat
^'hich has been created by the thirty-four German Vampires,
Ke.. the whole German people, with the exception of the factory
workers (the word proletariat means on the lips of Heinzen
only the miserable condition of that people). This numerous
Die llelden des deutschen Kommunismus, Bern, 1848, S. 21.
G. PLEK H A N O V
proletariat had not in Marxs opinion, he alleged, any r, u

to demand a better future, because it bore on itself only *//
brand of oppression, and not the stamp of the factory, it must n*e
tiently starve and die of hunger (hungern und verhungern) u n n
Germany has become England. The factory is the school whicl
the people must go through beforehand in order to have the right
of setting about improving its position .*
Anyone who knows even a little of the history of Germany
knows nowadays how absurd were these charges by Heiuzeu
Everyone knows whether Marx and Engels closed their eyes to
the miserable condition of the German people. Everyone under
stands whether it was right to attribute to them the idea that
there was nothing for a m an of generous character to do in Germany
so long as it had not become England: it would seem that these
men did something even without w aiting for such a transformation
of their country. But why did Heinzen attribute to them all this
nonsense? Was it really because of his bad faith? No, we shall
say again that this was not so much his fault as his misfortune.
He sim ply did not understand the views of Marx and Engels,
and therefore they seemed to him harmful; and as he passionately
loved his country, he went to war against these views which
were seemingly harmful to his country. B ut lack of comprehension
is a bad adviser, and a very unreliable assistant in an argument.
That was why Heinzen landed in the most absurd situation. IIu
was a very w itty person, but w it alone w ithout understanding
w ill not take one very far: and now the last laugh is not on his
side.
The reader w ill agree that Heinzen must be seen in the same
lig h t as our quite sim ilar argument, for example, w ith Mr. Mikhai
lovsky. And is it only Mr. Mikhailovsky? Do not all those who at
tribute to the disciples** the aspiration to enter the service of
the Kolupayevs and Razuvayevs461and their name is l e g i o n do
not they a ll repeat the mistake of Heinzen? Not one of them has
invented a single argument against the economic" materialists
which did not already figure, nearly fifty years ago, in the argu
ments of Heinzen. If they have anything original, it is only this
their naive ignorance of how unoriginal they really are. They are
constantly trying to find new paths" for Russia, and owing to
their ignorance poor Russian thought only stumbles across trucks
of European thought, full of ruts and long ago a b a n d o n e d - I t >s
strange, but quite comprehensible if we apply to the explain 10,,0
of this seemingly strange phenomenon the category of n e c e s s i t y
A t a certain stage of the economic development of a country, certain
* Ibid., p. 22.
** ["Disciples was the Aesopian word for Marxists.]
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF HISTO RY 671
li:eU -m eaning s tu p id itie s necessarily" arise in the heads of its intellectUttlS'

flow comical was the position of Heinzen in his argument w ith
Marx w ill be shown by the following example. He pestered his
opponents w ith a demand for a detailed ideal of the future. Tell
us, he said to them, how property relations ought to be organised
according to your views? W h at should be the lim its of private pro
perty, on the one hand, and social property on the other? They
replied to him that at every given moment the property relations
of society are determined by the state of its productive forces, and
that therefore one can only point out the general direction of social
development, but not work out beforehand any exactly formulat
ed draft legislation. We can already say that the socialisation
of labour created by modern industry must lead to the nationalisa
tion of the means of production. B ut one cannot say to what extent
this nationalisation could be carried out, say, in the next ten years:
this would depend on the nature of the m utual relations between
small- and large-scale industry at that tim e, large landowning and
peasant landed property, and so forth. W e ll, then you have no
ideal, Heinzen concluded: a fine ideal which w ill be manufactured
only later, by machines!
Heinzen adopted the utopian standpoint. The Utopian in work
ing out his ideal always starts, as we know, from some abstract
notionfor example, the notion of hum an natureor from some
abstract principlefor example, the principle of such and such
rights of personality, or the principle of in d iv id u a lity , etc.,
etc. Once such a principle has been adopted, it is not difficult,
starting from it , to define w ith the most perfect exactness and to
the last detail what ought to be (naturally, we do not know at what
time and in what circumstances) the property relations between
men, for example. And i t is comprehensible that the Utopian
should look w ith astonishment at those who tell him that there can
not be property relations which are good in themselves, w ithout
fluy regard for the circumstances of their time and place. It seems
to him that such people have absolutely no ideals. If the reader
has followed our exposition not w ithout attention, he knows that
that event the U topian is often wrong. Marx and Engels had
,ln 'deal, and a very definite ideal-, the subordination of necessity
freedom, of blind economic forces to the power of human reason.
rocoeding from this ideal, they directed their practical activity
accordinglyand it consisted,of course, not in serving the bourgeoi-le but in developing the self-consciousness of those same proU\frS
rnust
time, become masters of their products.
Marx and Engels had no reason to worry about transforming
erniany into England or, as people say in Russia nowadays, serv8 the bourgeoisie: the bourgeoisie developed w ithout their
072
G. PLEK HA NO V
assistance, and it was impossible to arrest that development i

there were no social forces capable of doing that. And it wou'i
have been needless to do so, because the old economic order w
in the last analysis no better than the bourgeois order, and in tl'*
40s had to such an extent grown out of date that it had becoin*
harm jul for all. B ut the im possibility of arresting the development
of capitalist production was not enough to deprive the thinkin*
people of Germany of the possibility of serving the welfare of its
people. The bourgeoisie has its inevitable fellow-travellers: all
those who really serve its purse on account of economic necessity
The more developed the consciousness of these unw illing servurits
the easier their position, the stronger their resistance to the Kolupayevs and Razuvayevs of all lands and all peoples. Marx and
Engels accordingly set themselves this particular task of developing that self-consciousness: in keeping w ith the spirit of dialec
tical materialism, from the very beginning they set themselves a
completely and exclusively idealistic task.
The criterion of the ideal is economic reality. That was what
Marx and Engels said, and on this foundation they were suspected
of some kind of economic M olchalim sin ,4"2 readiness to tread down
into the mud those who were economically weak and to serve Ihe
interests of the economically strong. The source of such suspicion
was a metaphysical conception of what Marx and Engels meant by
the words economic reality. When the metaphysician hears that
one who serves society must take his stand on reality, he imagines
lhat he is being advised lo make his peace w ith that reality. He is
unaware that in every economic reality there exist contradictory
elements, and that to make bis peace w ith reality would mean milk
ing his peace w ith only one of its elements, namely lhat which
dominates for the moment. The dialectical materialists pointed,
and point, to another element of reality, hostile to the first, and
one in which the future is maturing. We ask: if one takes onr s
stand on that element, if one takes it as the criterion of one's ide
als, does this mean entering the service of the K olupayevs and
Razuvayevs?
Rut if it is economic reality that must be the criterion or in*-
ideal, then il is comprehensible that a moral criterion tor lh,!
ideal is unsatisfactory, not because the moral feelings of ,p"
deserve indifference or contempt, but because these feelings an?
not enough to show us the right way of serving the i n t e r e s t s o
onr neighbour. It is not enough for the doctor to symp*,l*llS^
with the condition of his patient: he has to reckon with tji'
physical reality of the organism, to start from it in fightinK 1
If Ihe doctor were to think of confining himself to moral indip
i , 11110
>||| 1
tion against the disease, he would deserve the most maiK
ridicule. It was in this sense that Marx ridiculed the morale -

r jticisrn and "critical morality" of his opponents. But his opponents
thought that he was laughing al morality". Hum an m orality
1 will have no value in the eyes of men who themselves have
neither m orality nor w ill, exclaimed Heinzen.*
One must, however, remark that if our Russian opponents
,f the economic materialists in general only repeatwithout
k n o w i n g i l the arguments of their German predecessors, neveriheless they do diversify their arguments to some extent in minor
detail. Thus, for example, tho German Utopians did not engage
in long dissertations about the law of economic development
of Germany. W ith us, however, dissertations of that kind have
assumed truly terrifying dimensions. The reader will remember
llnil Mr- V. V., even at the very beginning of the 80s, promised
lhat he would reveal the law of economic development of Russia .'*03
True. Mr. V. V. began later on to be frightened of that law, hut
himself showed at the same time that he was afraid of it only
temporarily, only until the time that the Russian intellectuals
discovered a very good and kind law. Generallyspeaking, Mr. V. V.,
too. w illingly takes part in the endless discussions of whether
Russia must or must not go through the phase of capitalism .
As early as the 70s the teaching of Marx was dragged into these
discussions.
I low such discussions are carried on amongst us is shown
Ly the latest and most up-to-date work of Mr. S. Krivenko.
This author, replying to Mr. P. Struve, advises his opponent
to think harder about the question of the necessity and good
consequences of capitalism.
If lhe capitalist regime represents a fatal and inevitable
stage of development, through which any human society must
puss, if it only remains to bow ones head before that historical
necessity, should one have recourse to measures which can only
delay the coming of the capitalist order and, on the contrary,
should not one try to facilitate the transition to it and use all
ones efforts to promote its most rapid advent, i.e., strive to
develop capitalist industry and capitalisation of handicrafts,
Hie development of kulakdom ... the destruction of the village
commune, the expropriation of the people from the land and,
generally speaking, the smoking-out of the surplus peasantry
from the villages into the factories. * * 464
Mr. S. Krivenko really puts two questions here, (1) does capital
ism represent a fatal and inevitable stage, (2 ) if so, what practical
w from it? Let us begin w ith the first.
* Die Ilelden des deuischen Kommunismus, Bern, 1848, S. 22.

Russkoye Bogatslvo, December 1893, Part I I , p. 189.
^ * 3-01329
674
G. PLKK11AN0V
Mr. S. Krivenko formulates it correctly in this sense lh:ti

and moreover the overwhelming, part of our intellectuals
precisely concern itself w ith the question in that form: d o
capitalism represent a fatal and inevitable stage through whj'T
every human society must pass? A t one time they thought tint
.Marx replied in the affirmative to this question, and were vi>rv
upset thereby. When there was published the well-known lt>tti>V
of Marx, allegedly to Mr. M ikhailovsky , * 465 they saw with
surprise that Marx did not recognise the in evitability of | | ,js
stage, and then they decided w ith m alignant joy: hasn't he ju ^
pu l to shame his Russian disciples! B ut those who were re jo ic in g
forgot the French proverb: bien rira qui rira le dernier [he laughs
best who laughs last].
From beginning to end of this dispute the opponents of the
Russian disciples of Marx were indulging in the most unnatural
idle chatter.
The fact is that, when they were discussing whether Ihe historical
theory of Marx was applicable to Russia, they forgot one trifle:
they forgot to ascertain what that theory consists of. And truly
magnificent was the plight into which, thanks to this, our sub
jectivists fell, w ith Mr. M ikhailovsky at their head.
Mr. M ikhailovsky read (if he has read) the preface to the Cri
tique of Political Economy, in which the philosophical-historical
theory of Marx is set forth, and decided it was nothing more than
Hegelianism. W itho u t noticing the elephant where the elephant
really was,** Mr. M ikhailovsky began looking round, and it
seemed to him that he had at last found the elephant he was
looking for in the chapter about prim itive capitalist accumula
tio n where Marx is w riting about the historical progress of
Western capitalism , and not at all of the w'hole history of hnnianity.
Every process is unquestionably inevitable where it exists.
Thus, for example, the burning of a match is inevitable for it.
once it has caught fire: the match inevitably goes out, once
the process of burning has come to an end. Capital speaks of
the course of capitalist development which was inevitable" fur
those countries where that development has taken place. I magi'1ing that in the chapter of Capital just mentioned he has before
him an entire historical philosophy, Mr. Mikhailovsky decide'1
that, in the opinion of Marx, capitalist production is i n e v i t a b l e
*
In this draft unfinished sketch of a letter, Marx writes not to Mr.
ki.nilovsky, but to the Editor of Otechestvenniye Zapiski\ Marx spooks
Mr. Mikhailovsky in the third person.
,il(,
** [There is the well-known Russian story of the man who went. t<>
iaanagery and didnt notice the elephant.]
the
DEVELOPMENT OF T IIE MONIST V IE W OF HIST O RY 675
for all countries and for all peoples.* Then he began to whine
ibout the embarrassing position of those Russian people who,
etc.; and 11G i l'erl liaving paid the necessary tribute to his
subjective necessity to whine, he im portantly declared, addressing
himself to Mr. Zhukovsky: you see, we too know how to criticise
Marx, we too (1 " ol- b lin d ly follow what the master has said !
N a t u r a l l y all this did not advance the question of in evitability
oju> inch; but after reading the w hining of Mr. M ikhailovsky.
Marx had the intention of going to his assistance. He sketched
o u t in lhe form of a letter to the editor of Otechestvenniye Zapiski
)iis remarks on the article by Mr. M ikhailovsky. When, after
the death of Marx, this draft appeared in our press, Russian
people who, etc., had at least the opportunity of finding a correct
solution lo the question of in e v itability .
What could Marx say about the article of Mr. Mikhailovsky?
A man had fallen into misfortune, by taking the philosophicalhistorical theory of Marx to be that which it was not in the least.
It was clear that Marx had first, of all to rescue from misfortune
a hopeful young Russian writer. In addition, the young Russian
writer was com plaining that Marx was sentencing Russia to
capitalism. lie had to show the Russian writer that dialectical
materialism doesnt sentence any countries lo anything at all,
that it doesnt point out. a way which is general and inevitable
for all nations al all times; that the further development of
every given society always depends on the relationships of social
forces w ithin it; and that therefore any serious person must,
without guessing or whimpering about, some fantastic inevitabil
ity, first of all study those relations. O nly such a study can
show what is inevitable and what is not inevitable for tho
given society.
*
See the article, Karl Marx Before the Judgement of Mr. Zhukovsky
in Otechestivnniye Zapiski for October 1877. In the sixth chapter of Capital
there is a paragraph headed: The So-called Primitive Accumulation . Here
Marx had in view a historical sketch of the first steps in the capitalist pro
cess of production, but he provided something which is much morean
entire philosophical-historical theory. We repeat that all (his is absolute
nonsense: the historical philosophy of Marx is set forth in the preface to the
Critique of Political Economy, so incomprehensible for Mr. Mikhailovsky,
I?
shape of a few generalising ideas, most intim ately interconnected.
t this in passing. Mr. Mikhailovsky has managed not to understand Marx
>>ven in what referred to the inevitability of the capitalist process for the
*ost. He has seen in factory legislation a correction to the fatal inflexibil"V of the historical process. Imagining that according to Marx the economic"
'cts on its own. without any part played by men, he was consistent in seeing
Correction in every intervention by men in the course of their process
f production. The only thing he did not know was that according to Marx
. t very intervention,' in every given form, is the inevitable product of the
S'ven economic relations. Jusl try and argue about Marx with men who don t
nderstand him with such notable consistency!
43*
076
O. I'LE K H A N OV
And th a ls just what .Marx did. First of all he revealed il

misunderstanding of Mr. Mikhailovsky: The chapter on prim '0
tive accumulation does not pretend to do more than trace
path by which, in Western Europe, the capitalist order of
emerged from the womb of the feudal order of economy. Il therefore
describes the historic movement which, by divorcing the producers
from their means of production, converts them into wage-worker*
(proletarians in the modern sense of Ihe word) while it converts
those who possess the means of product ion into capitalists. In thal
history, all revolutions are epoch-making that act as levers for
the advancement of the capitalist class in course of formation...,
Rut the basis of this whole development is the expropriation of
the agricultural producer__ At the end of the chapter the histor
ical tendency of production is summed up thus ... that capitalist
property ... cannot but transform itself into social properly.
At this point I have not furnished any proof, for the good reason
that, this statement is ilself nothing else bul a general .summary
of long expositions previously given in the chapters on capitalist
production . 4"8
In order better to clear up the circumstance thal Mr. M ikhail
ovsky had taken to be an historical theory what was not and
could not be such a theory, Marx pointed to the example of ancient
Rome. A very convincing example! For indeed, if it is inevilaide
for all peoples to go through capitalism , what is to be done with
Home, what is lo be done w ith Sparta, what is lo bo done with
the State of the Incas, what, is to be done w ith the many other
peoples who disappeared from the historical scene without fulfil
ling this imaginary obligation? The fate of these peoples did
not remain unknown to Marx: consequently he could not have
spoken of the universal inevitability of the capitalist process,
My critic, says Marx, feels he absolutely must m etam orphose
my historical sketch of the genesis of capitalism in Western
Europe into an historico-philosophic theory of the general path
every people is fated to tread, whatever the historical circum
stances in which it finds itself__ But I beg his pardon, (lie is bolh
honouring and shaming me too much .) 467
We should think so! Such an interpretation was transform
ing Marx into one of those people with a formula
had already ridiculed in his polemics against Proudhon. n
Mr. M ikhailovsky attributed to Marx a formula of p n gres* .
and Marx replied: 110 , thank you very much, I dont need these
goods.
We have already seen how the Utopians regarded the law*
of historical development (let the reader remember whal
said about Saint-Simon). The conformity to law of historic"
movement assumed in their eyes a mystical appearance; Ihe Psl* 1
ecoiioinv
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OK H1STOHV 1.77
along which m ankind proceeds was in their im agination marked

out beforehand, as it were, and no historical events could change
llie direction of thal path. An interesting psychological aberra
tion! Human nature is for the Utopians the point of departure
of their investigation. But the laws of development, of that nature,
immediately acquiring in their eyes a mysterious character,
are transferred somewhere outside man and outside the actual rela
tionship of men into some superhistorical" sphere.
Dialectical
m aterialism ,
here
also,
transfers
the
question
to
quite a n o t h e r g r o u n d , t h e r e b y g i v i n g it q u i t e a n o t h e r a p p e a r
ance.
Tho dialectical materialists reduce everything to economics .

We have already explained how this is lo be understood. But
what are economics? They are the sum-total of the actual rela
tionships of the men who constitute the given society, in their
process of production. These relationships do not represent
a motionless metaphysical essence. They are eternally changing
under the influence of the development, of the productive forces,
and under the influence of the historical environment surrounding
the given society. Once the actual relations of men in the process
of production are given, there fatally follow from these relations
certain consequences. In this sense social movement conforms
to law, and no one ascertained that conformity to law better
than Marx. But as the economic movement of every society has
a "peculiar' form in consequence of the peculiarity of the condi
tions in which il takes place, there can lie no formula of progress
covering Ihe past and foretelling the future of the economic move
ment of a ll societies. The formula of progress is thal abstract
truth which, in the words of the author of the Sketches of the
Gogol Period in Russian Literature, was so pleasing to the meta
physicians. But, as he remarks himself, there is no abstract
ruth: truth is always concrete: everything depends on Ihe circum
stances of time and place. And if everything depends on these
circumstances, il is the latter lhat must be studied by people
who, etc . 4*9
In order that 1 might be specially qualified lo estimate tho
economic development in Russia, I learnt Russian and then for
many years studied Ihe official publications and others bearing
0|> this subject . 470
The R ussian disciples of Marx are faithful to him in this case
also. Of course one of them may have greater and another less
extensive economic knowledge, but what matters here is not the
amount of the knowledge of individual persons, but the point of
vieU' itself. The Russian disciples of Marx are not guided by
u subjective ideal or by some formula of progress, but turn
*" the economic reality of their country.
678
G. PLEK HA NO V
To what conclusion, then, did Marx come regarding Hussi '>

If Russia continues to pursue the path she has followed since 18(i|
she w ill lose the finest chance ever offered by history to a poonle
and undergo all the fatal vicissitudes of the capitalist regime*
A little further 011 Marx adds that in recent years Russia h i,
been taking a lot of trouble in the sense of proceeding along (hj.
path mentioned. Since the letter was written (i.e., since 1877
we w ill add for our part), Russia has been moving along
path still further and ever more quickly.
W hat then follows from M arxs letter? Throe conclusions*
1.
He shamed by his letter not his Russian disciples, but
the subjectivist gentlemen who, not having the least conception
of his scientific point of view, were attem pting to refashion M.irx
himself after their own likeness and image, and to transform hi in
into a metaphysician and Utopian.
2. The subjectivist gentlemen were not ashamed of the letter
for the simple reason th a t true to their ideal they didnt
understand the letter either.
3. If the subjectivist gentlemen want to argue with 11s on the
question of how and where Russia is moving, they must at every
given moment start from an analysis of economic reality.
The study of that reality in the 70s brought Marx to the condi
tional conclusion: If Russia continues to pursue the path she hns
followed since the emancipation of the peasantry ... she will
become a perfect capitalist nation ... and after that, once fallen
in the bondage of the capitalist regime, she w ill experience lln'
pitiless laws of capitalism like other profane peoples. That is
a ll ." 471
That is all. But a Russian desiring to work for the welfare
of his native land cannot be satisfied w ith such a c o n d i t i o n a l
conclusion. The question w ill inevitably arise in his m ind, will
Russia continue to proceed along this path? Do data by any
chance exist which allow one to hope that she will leave tld*
path?
In order to reply to this question, one must once again turn
to a study of the actual position of the country, an analysis of
its present-day internal life. The Russian disciples of M an.
on the basis of such an analysis, assert that she w ill continue. Thenare no data allowing one to hope that Russia w ill soon leave the po1'
of capitalist development upon which she entered after IS61- ',a
is a ll!
The subjectivist gentlemen think that the disciples are in'*4
taken. They w ill have to prove it w ith the help of data S11PI
by the same Russian actuality. The disciples say: R u s s i a
continue to proceed along the path of capitalist developm^1^
not because there exists some external force, some mysl',,,
nHCbMO K A P A k M A P K C A .
Bi> 6ynaraxT> noKottnaro K ap/ia
oTnpaajeHHoe
n 08 HAHM0 My we
M a p u c t oKamoeb OMCbKO ero,

Ha ^panupcKom. a a u n t , ot-
Hoc*uieecH kt. cTiTbt nOte<iecTBeHHUx% 3anHCoirb : .KapJTCt M apxci

nepeA^ c y a o M i r . Jity K oecK aro*. M u aaeno hm *jih s to nucbw o tn>
pyKaxt, ho 3Hr, hto <PpHApHX-i d H r e J t c * n e p e ^ a ^ e ro Apynm*
jH u a w i fl/is HanesaTaHi* Ha pyccKOM% flawrfc, BO*Aep*iiBa.iHCb o r t
ero nydJiHKOBanw. Oho 40 c h x t. nop*k b i pyccicOH u r p u m y H ott
n p e c c t He n o o B Jiiuo ck. B"w n p o u u io M i, rofty oho 6 u a o hsaho a%
P occIh uauiHMH ToBapHUiJHH, ho 6 o ju m a HacTv HaAawiii nona-sa b t.
pyKH nozmuits. T enepb m u n o/iysm iH orb Haiuuxi. TOBapHtnefi pyccKiii nepesoA b e ro c t. n p o c b 6o HaiienaTaTfc, Tajn. khkti hht> ue y*a>10cb p a c n p o c ip a H m e ro , a oho BU 3 Baao aHa'MTe.ibHuff wnepec-b
B t pycCKOft CQUia/IMCTKHeCKoS MOJIOae*H. CHMTaeMl. npiftTHOK) o6haaHHOCTbio McnoJiHHTb HX7> npoci>6y h yKpacirrb cTpaHvuiu Haiuero
jn y pw ua npoM3BeAeHit'i, aHaneunTaro couia^M cia. yaoNHPaeMfate V b
iiHCbMt pyccKie imcaTCflM cyn> A. H. Tepueirfc H H. I\ HepH U lU e B C K i f t
Fed.
ABTopi cTaTbH Kapjn MapKCT. nepeA% cyAOMi* r. ?Ky*

K0 BCKaro oveBHAHO 4eJioBtRi> ocrpoyKUUfl, u ecû6u
ohx bt> MoeMt H3jio*eHiH, TpaKTywmeMt o nepB0RasajbROM^ HaKonneHiH, Hauie/n. xorn 0Ay cTpaHKuy bt>
noATBepAeHie cbohxt. bmboaobt., oht. 6 u Ha Hee ca9zai
ccujiKy.
3 a 0TcyTCTBieMT> TaisoBoii,
oht npHayxt-
achx 6hjii> B3aTb ee He wat caMoil khhi-h, a im . noaeMM'iecKoii buxoakh npoTHBt oAHoro pyccKaro CjeJwexpHCTa,
HaaenaTaHHofi bb npR/ioxteHLH Kt nepBOMy ir&MeuKOMy H3Aaniio KariHTaaa. B t M e a n * n ta in . ynpeKajrc, p y c c K a r o
Marxs letter to the editorial board of the Otechestvenniye Zapiski

(in the magazine Vestnik Narodnoi Voli)
<4 v. .
t^
.^j^.%/)
. 3 -H.-?.*#? j, ' rv^--C:u* ^.v

ri'VM
* ,> *
* ~ .-
.; . . *?
".crC* A-** r*'.
. <v -.
i,^n^
_v'*;''
&TZ
*'
i jv*
'<-?.'.'-viK - s ,r !v.' .\:i #*>- . /Y.v., it, ..%

"" -.*.*<
..*uf. ''?;&' .
;
wiV'-Jf} _-
&
.I
V"V .* *.,- %
.t <>. .*. >t , j.-'I..,; y^V
*J, :
4*V . vt-'
,- - i- -.! .;-',,M-.î;ii*te-p
JV .-L p?*i.%$>>>:
-jjr^ *-- , jv;
' .*0 -r-*^r't _* f3<5v.w. k* , _ifi if ?

* v-ÔiA.-tU-t'K. -. < MHijAMM
J . '' '
'
tfc- '4
' 111 ' I - n, ,

v..U i< *.li^
'j*i rAr.Hri'' '
rii r
* '(-
* . x v ;
\
-
.i'Svi**
-.--.^3'..;.
'>V
.< V',;
.;
........
.v * ' -r-L - __
"
#1
/ ~ i j W f ,
.'ii
/ ; >>, .& .* } * ^ . 7<

.
V . rjKJM'1 *1^' .;*' >M ' .-fwvirJt-.v.f*
; *<-.' *; - >.< '*x.
..
.,
i r
|| *.f
i
V
.'" >
.
r
4# V
J f r;
r:
IfM / l* #
vfe--;v;.-v;i(
.i^/V'soK^'*
'
vl
, T I *
diOf. hj
' *./ Ml
at; ..
.Ill/I**"
m.ifr :*
'
ir. .,^v v
. i lSV.s45
in Q >Q- t o f I
0^''
It v*1
Tlip m.
(nko8. Tbi-v
i-
((
y^-S-w *
! nk thAl th- **.
;M Kîf%
tLi*r
LJ-* 1
JttS'i >'>-<i i*Uiit-ir? aiiflsam ci(i ai)jp
Is*.
*
I t ill*
it !>
*r
' I t b m t : .'' *4 E * <SL

**
W fw-wtt ^ ^P!<. .ill*
r'-
'^1 ' ',JIMlll ]1II

vi.ii
im pTLi ->#d <l*iY '.b
Bui
'*
. t ><5
-tf
f ;l
**
-^.2T
I'tlrt" V
>
il with tho l*<t

;>olh of
i!cf/iil ierrti,
m
i
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF HISTO RY 681
law pushing her along that path, hut because there is no effective
in te rn a l force capable of pushing her from tha I path. I f the subjectiv
ist gentlemen think that there is such a force, let them say
what il consists of, and let them prove its presence. We shail
be very glad to hear them out. Up to now we have not heard
anything definite from them on this score.
W hat do you mean: there is no force? And what about our
ideals? exclaim our dear opponents.
Oil
gentlemen, gentlemen! R eally you are touchingly simple!
The very question is, how to realise, even for the sake of argument,
your ideals though they represent something fairly muddled?
Put in this way, the question, naturally, sounds very prosaic,
but so long as it is unanswered, your ideals w ill have only an
"ideal significance.
Imagine that a young hero has been brought into a prison of
stone, put behind iron bars, surrounded by watchful guards.
The young hero only smiles. He takes a bit of charcoal he has pul
away beforehand, draws a little boat on the w all, lakes his seat
in the boat and ... farewell prison, farewell watchful guards,
Ihe young hero is once again at large in the wide world.
A beautiful story! R ut it is ... only a story. In reality, a liltle
boat drawn on the wall has never carried anyone away anywhere.
Already since the time of the abolition of serfdom Russia has
patently entered the path of capitalist development. The sub
jectivist gentlemen see this perfectly well, and themselves assert
lhat our old economic relations are breaking up with amazing
find constantly increasing speed. Hut th a ts nothing, they say
to one another: we shall embark Russia in the little boat of our
ideals, and she w ill float away from this path beyond distant
lands, into far-off realms.
The subjectivist gentlemen are good story-tellers, but ... that
is a llf' That is a lland th a ts terribly little , and never before
have stories changed the historical movement of a people, for
the same prosaic reason that not a single nightingale has ever
been well fed on fables . 478
The subjectivist gentlemen have adopted a strange classification
of Russian people w ho... into two categories. Those who
believe iri the possibility of floating away on the little boat of the
subjective ideal are recognised as good people, true well-wishers
the people. But those who say that that faith is absolutely
untounded are attributed a kind of unnatural malignancy, the
' ^termination to make the Russian muzhik die of hunger. No
Dielodrama has ever had such villains as must be, in the opinion
0 the subjectivist gentlemen, the consistent Russian economic
niaterialists. This amazing opinion is just as well founded as was
at of Heinzen. which the readers already know, when he atlribut-
682
G. PLEK HA NO V
ed Lo Marx the intention of leaving the German people huneound verhungern.

11
Mr. M ikhailovsky asks himself why is it that just now go,,,
tleinen have appeared who are capable with a tranquil conscience
lo condemn m illions of people to starvation and poverty?
Mr. S. N. Krivenko thinks that once a consistent person has
decided thal capitalism is inevitable in Russia it remains for
him only to strive to develop ... capitalisation of handicrafts
the development of kulakdom ... the destruction of the village
commune, the expropriation of the people from the land uml
generally speaking, the smoking-out of the surplus peasantry
from the villages. Mr. S. N. Krivenko thinks so only because
he himself is incapable of consistent" thinking.
Heinzen did at least recognise in Marx a prejudice in favour
of toilers who bore tho factory stamp". The subjectivist gentlemen
evidently do not recognise even this little weakness in the Russian
disciples of Marx : they, forsooth, consistently hate all the sons
of man, w ithout exception. They would like to starve them nil
to death, w ith the exception possibly of the representatives of tinmerchant estate. In reality, if Mr. Krivenko had admitted any
good intentions in the disciples , as regards tho factory workers,
he would not have written the lines just quoted.
To strive ... generally speaking, for the smoking-out of the
surplus peasantry from the villages. The saints preserve us!
W hy strive? Surely the influx of new labour into the factory
population w ill lead to a lowering of wages. And even Mr. K ri
venko knows that a lowering of wages cannot be beneficial and
pleasant for Ihe workers. W hy should the consistent disciples",
then, try to do harm to the workman and bring him unpleasant
ness? Obviously these people are consistent only in their hatred
of m ankind, they dont even love the factory worker! Or perhaps
they do love him , but in their own peculiar way they love
him and therefore they try to do him harm: Spare the rod mul
spoil the child. Strange people! Remarkable consistency!
"To strive ... for the development of kulakdom , Ihe destruction
of the village commune, the expropriation of the people from the
land. What horrors! R ut why strive for all this? Surely Ihe develop
ment of kulakdom and the expropriation of the people from the
land may reflect themselves in the lowering of their purchasing
power, and the lowering of their purchasing power will h'ad to
a reduction of demand for factory goods, w ill reduce the denian<(
for labour, i.e., w ill lower wages. No, the consistent disciph'^
don t love the working man; and is it only the working rn!!j-|
For surely the reduction in the purchasing power of the p. ople vu
harm fully affect even the interests of the employers who
slitntc, the subjectivist gentlemen assure us, the object
<liscipits most tender care. No, you can say what you like, but
these disciples are really queer people!
To strive ... for the capitalisation of handicrafts ... nol
to stick al either the buying-up of peasant land, or the open
in g of shops and public houses, or at any other shady occupa
tion. lin t why should consistent people do all this? Surely they
are convinced of the in ev itability of the capitalist process; con
seq u ently , if the opening of public houses were an essential
part of that process, there would inevitably appear public houses
(which, one must suppose, do not exist at present). It seems to
,Mr. Krivenko that shady activity must accelerate the capitalist
process. But, we shall say again, if capitalism is inevitable,
"shadiness w ill appear of its own accord. W hy should the consis
tent disciples of Marx so strive for it?
Here their theory grows silent before the demands of moral
feeling: they see that shadiness is inevitable, they adore it for
that inevitability, and from all sides they hasten to its assistance,
or else maybe that poor inevitable shadiness w ill not get the
upper hand soon enough, w ithout our assistance."
Is that so, Mr. Krivenko? If it is not, then all your arguments
about, the consistent disciples are worthless. And if it is, then
your personal consistency and your own capacity of cognition
are worthless.
Take whatever you like, even though it be the capitalisation
of handicrafts. It represents a twofold process: there appear
first, of all people who accumulate in their hands the means of
production, anti secondly people who make use of these means of
production for a certain payment. Let us suppose that shadiness
is the distinguishing feature of persons of the first category;
hut surely the people who work for them for hire may. it m ight
seem, escape that phase of moral development? And if so, what
will there be shady in my activity if I devote it to those people,
if I develop their self-consciousness and defend their material
interests? Mr. Krivenko w ill say perhaps that such activity w ill
delay the development of capitalism. Not in the least. The example
of England, France and Germany w ill show him that in those
countries such activity has not only not delayed the development
f capitalism but, on the contrary, has accelerated it. and by the
Wfy has thereby brought nearer the practical solution of some
f their accursed problems.
Or let, us take the destruction of the village commune. This
als i? a twofold process: the peasant, holdings are being concen
trated iri the hands of the kulaks, and an ever-growing number
of previously independent peasants are being transformed into
proletarians. All this, naturally, is accompanied by a clash of
interests, by struggle. The Russian disciple appears on the scene,
G. P LEK HA N O V
attracted by the noise: he lifts up his voice in a brief but dee I

felt hymn lo the category of necessity and ... opens a rm fr
hound That's how the most consistent among them will lu,^
the more moderate man w ill coniine himself to opening a /;///
shop. T hats it, isnt it, Mr. Krivenko? But why shouldnt the
disciple take tho side of the village poor?
But if he wants to take their side, he w ill have to try am|
interfere w ith their expropriation from the land? A ll right
let's admit it: that's what he must try fur. But thal will delay iju'
development of capitalism . I t wont delay it in the least. On Un*
contrary, it w ill even accelerate it. The subjectivist gentleman
are always im agining that the village commune of itself"
tends to pass into some higher form . They are mistaken. The
only real tendency of the village commune is the tendenci/ tu
break up, and the better the conditions of the peasantry, the
sooner would the commune break up. Moreover, that break-up
can take place in conditions which are more or less advantagemm
for the people. The disciples must strive lo see to it thal
the break-up takes place in conditions most advantageous for the
people.
But why not prevent the break-up itself?
And why d id n t you prevent the famine of 1891? You couldn't?
We believe you, and we should consider our cause lost if all
we had left were to make your morality responsible lor such eventx
which were independent of your w ill, instead of refuting your
views with tho help of logical arguments. But why then do yon
pay us back in a different measure? W hy. in arguments with u*.
do you represent the poverly of the people as though we were
responsible for it? Because where logic cannot help you, sometimes
words can, particularly p itifu l words. You could nol prevent tin*
famine of 1891? W ho then w ill vouch that you w ill be able l<>
prevent the break-up of the village commune, the expropriation
of the peasantry from their land? Let us take the middle path,
so dear to eclectics: lets imagine that in some cases you will
succeed in preventing all this. W ell, hut in those cases where
your efforts prove unsuccessful, where in spile of them the c o m m u n e
nevertheless
breaks up,
where the peasants nevertheless
prove landlesshow w ill you act with these victims of the f a t e f u l
process? Charon carried across the Styx only those souls who wen*
able to pay him for his work. W ill you
take into >*0,,.r
little boat, for transporting into the realm of the subjective idi'iit.
only genuine members of the village commune? W ill \"l|
use your oars to beat off the village proletarians? Prohah >
you yourselves w ill agree, gentlemen, that this would he 'er>
shady". And once you agree w ith this, you w ill have to act i
lheir regard in just the same way as, in your opinion, any decl>i>
the
DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W UK H1STOHY 685
mal) will have to act, i.e., not lo set up public houses to sell
them dope, b u l to increase their strength of resistance to the
public house, to the publican and to every other dope which
history serves up, or w ill serve up, to them.
Or perhaps it is we now who are beginning to tell fairytales?
Perhaps the village commune is not breaking up? Perhaps Ihe
expropriation of the people from the land is not in fact taking
place? Perhaps we invented this with the sole aim of plunging
Ihe peasant into poverty, after he had hitherto been enjoying
an enviably prosperous existence? Then open any investigation
|,y your own partisans, and it w ill show you how matters have
stood up lo now, i.e., before even a single disciple has opened
n public house or started a little shop. When you argue with us,
you represent matters as (hough the people are already living
in the realm of your subjective ideals, while we, through our
inherent hatred of m ankind, are dragging them down by the
feet, into the prose of capitalism. But matters stand in exactly
the opposite way. It is the capitalist prose that exists, and we are
asking ourselves, how can this prose be fought, how can we put the
people in a situation even somewhat approaching the ideal?
You may find that we are giving the wrong answer to the question:
but why distort our intentions ? 473 R eally, you know, that, is
.shady: really such criticism is unworthy even of Suzdal
folks".171
But how then can one fight the capitalist prose which, we
repeat, already exists independently of our and your efforts?
You have one reply: to consolidate the village commune",
to strengthen the connection of the peasant w ith the land. And
we reply that that is an answer worthy only of Utopians. W'hy?
Because it is an abstract answer. According to your opinion, the
village commune is good always and everywhere, while in our
opinion there is no abstract truth, truth is always concrete,
everything depends on the circumstances of time and place. There
'vns a time when the village commune could be advantageous
[or the whole people; there are probably even now places where
** is of advantage to the agriculturists. It is not we who w ill begin
a revolt against such a commune. But in a number of cases the
village commune has been transformed into a means of exploiting
he peasant. Against such a commune we revolt, just as against
"'erything that is harmful for the people. Remember the peasant
"honi G. I. Uspensky makes pay /or nothing . 475 W hat should
one do w ith him , in your opinion? Transport him into the realm
of the ideal, you reply. Very good, transport him w ith G ods
,le'p. But while he has not yet been transported, while he has
Jiot yet taken his seat on the little boat of the ideal, while the
ll|le boat has not yet sailed up to him and as yet we don t know
(586
G. P LEK HA NO V
when it w ill do so, w ouldnt it be better for him to be free hi

paying lor nothing? W o u ld n t it be better for him to stop Ik|'"r
a member of a village commune which only means (hat |)t.
have absolutely unproductive expenses, and perhaps in additj,
only a periodical flogging at the Volost office? We think it mould
but you charge us for this w ith intending to starve the peoi,|e
to death. Is that just? Isnt there something shady about it>
Or perhaps you really are incapable of understanding us? Can
that really be so? Chaadayev said once that the Russian doesn't
even know the syllogism of the W est . 478 Can that really be just
your case? We w ill adm it that Mr. S. Krivenko quite sincerely
does not understand this; we adm it it also in relation to Mr
Kareyev and Mr. Yuzhakov. R ut Mr. M ikhailovsky always seemed
to us a man of a much more acute mind.
W hat have you invented, gentlemen, to improve the lot of the
m illions of peasants who have in fact lost their land? When it
is a question of people who pay for nothing, you are able only
to give one piece of advice: although he does pay for nothing",
nevertheless he m ustnt destroy his connection w ith the village
commune because, once it has been destroyed, it can never
be restored. Of course, this w ill involve temporary inconvenience
for those who pay for nothing , but ... what the muzhik suffers
is no disaster . 477
And th a ts just how it turns out that our subjectivist gentlemen
are ready to bring the most vital interests of the people as a sacrifice
to their ideals. A nd that is just how it turns out that iheir preaching
in reality is becoming more and more hurtful for the people,
To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation, says
Tolstoi about Anna Pavlovna Shercr . 478 To hate capitalism lias
become the social vocation of our subjectivists. W hat good could
the enthusiasm of an old m aid do Russia? None whatsoever.
What good does the subjective hatred of capitalism do the
Russian producers? Also none whatsoever.
B ut the enthusiasm of Anna Pavlovna was at least h a r m l e s s .
The utopian hatred of capitalism is beginning to do positive
harm to the Russian producer, because it makes our intellectual4
extremely unsqueamisli about the means of consolidating
village commune. Scarcely does anyone mention such consolida
tion when im m ediately a darkness falls in which all cats seem
grey, and the subjectivist gentlemen are ready warmly to embrace
the Moskovskii/e Vedomosti. And all this subjective darkening
of the intellect goes precisely to aid that public house which t h e
disciples are alleged to be ready to cultivate. I t s s h a m e f u l 10
say it, but sinful to hide, that the utopian enemies of c a p ita li^
prove in reality to be the accomplices of capitalism in its most coat'#
shameful and harmful form.
TH E DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IS T O R Y 087
Up to now we have been speaking of Utopians who have tried.

nr nowadays try, to invent some argument or other against Marx.
[jet us see now how those Utopians behave, or behaved, who were
inclined to quote from him.
Heinzen, whom the Russian subjectivists now reproduce w ilh
such astonishing accuracy in their arguments w ith tho Russian
disciples", was a Utopian of a democratic-bourgeois tendency,
flut there were many Utopians of an opposite tendency47* in
Germany in the 40s.
The social and economic position of Germany was then in
broad outline as follows.
On the one hand, the bourgeoisie was rapidly developing,
and insistently dem anding every kind of assistance and support,
from the German governments. The well-known Zollverein was
entirely the result of its work, and advocacy in favour of it was
carried on not only w ith the help of petitions , but also by means
of more or less scientific research: let us recall the name of Fried
rich List . 480 On the other hand, the destruction of the old economic
foundations had left the German people defenceless in relation
to capitalism . The peasants and handicraftsmen were already
sufficiently involved in the process of capitalist advance to expe
rience on themselves all its disadvantageous sides, which make
themselves felt w ith particular force in transitional periods. But
the working mass was at that time still little capable of resistance.
It could not as yet withstand the representatives of capital to any
noticeable extent. W ay back in the 60s Marx said that Germany
was suffering simultaneously both from the development of capital
ism and from the insufficiency of its development. In the 40s her
sufferings from the insufficiency of development of capitalism
were even greater. Capitalism had destroyed the old foundations
of peasant life; the handicraft industry, which had previously
flourished in Germany, now had to withstand the competition
of machine production, which was much too strong for it. The
handicraftsmen grew poorer, fallin g every year more and more
into helpless dependence on the middlemen. And at the same time
he peasants had to discharge a long series of such services, in
relation to the landlords and the state, as m ight perhaps have
"en bearable in previous days, but in the 40s became all the
More oppressive because they less and less corresponded to the
actual conditions of peasant life. The poverty of the peasantry
reached astounding dimensions; the kulak became the complete
faster of the village; the peasant grain was frequently bought
y him while it was still not yet reaped; begging had become
' kind of seasonal occupation. Investigators at that time pointed
0,it village communes in which, out of several thousand families,
nly a few hundred were not engaged in begging. In other places
G. PLEK HA N O V
a thing almost incredibli-, bul placed on record at the time ^

the German pressthe peasants fed on carrion. Leaving the'^
villages, they could not find sufficient employment in the indu"^
trial centres, and the press pointed out the growing unemployment
And the increasing emigration which it was producing.
Here is how one of the most advanced organs of the time doscribes the position of Ihe working mass: One hundred thousand
spinners in the Ravensbcrg district, and in other places of U ip
German Fatherland, can no longer live by their own lahour, and
can no longer find an outlet for their manufacture (it was a ques
tion chiefly of handicraftsmen). They seek work and bread, with
out finding one or the other, because it is difficult if not impos
sible for them lo find employment outside spinning. Thero exists
a vast competition among the workers for the most m iserable
wage. *
The m orality of the people was undoubtedly declining. The
destruction of old economic relations was paralleled by the shatter
ing of old moral notions. The newspapers and journals of that
time were filled w ith complaints of drunkenness among the work
ers, of sexual dissoluteness in their m idst, of coxcombry and
extravagance which developed among them, side by side with
the decrease in their wages. There were no signs as yet in tin?
German workman of a new m orality, that m orality which began
rapidly to develop later, on the basis of the new movement of
emancipation aroused by the very development of capitalism.
The mass movement for emancipation was not even beginning
at that time. The dull discontent of the mass made itself felt from
time to time only in hopeless strikes and aimless revolts, in the
senseless destruction of machines. But the sparks of consciousness
were beginning to fall into the heads of the German workmen.
Books which had represented an unnecessary luxury under tho
old order became an article of necessity in the new conditions.
A passion for reading began to take possession of the workers.
Such was the state of affairs w ith which the right-thinking
portion of the German intellectuals (der Gebildeten as they
said then) had to reckon. W hat was to be done, how co u ld the
people be helped? By elim inating capitalism, replied t he in tel*
lectuals. The works of Marx and Engels which appeared at that
time were joyfully accepted by part of the German intellectual*
as constituting a number of new scientific arguments in favour
of the necessity of elim inating capitalism. W hile the liberal poliji*
cians have w ith new strength begun to sound L is ts trumpet of the
protective tariff, trying to assure us ... that they are worrying
about an expansion of industry m ainly in the interests of the
working class, while their opponents, the enthusiasts of
* Der Gesellschafls-Spiegel, Band I, S. 78. A letter from \Vostphn!l-
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V I E W OF H IS T O R Y f.89
trade- have been trying to prove that England has become the
f l o u r i s h i n g and classical country o f trade and industry not at all
in consequence of protection, the excellent book of Engels on the
c o n d i t i o n of tho working class in England has made a most tim ely
uppearance, and has destroyed the last illusions. A ll have recogn
ised that this book constitutes one of the most remarkable works
0f modern tim es.... By a number of irrefutable proofs it has
shown into what an abyss that society hurries to fall which makes
its motive principle personal greed, the free competition of private
em ployers, for whom money is their God.*
And so capitalism must be elim inated, or else Germany w ill
fall into that abyss at the bottom of which England is already
lying. This has been proved by Engels. And who w ill eliminate
capitalism? The intellectuals, die Gebildeten. The peculiarity
of Germany, in the words of one of these Gebildeten, was precisely
that it was the German intellectuals who were called upon to
eliminate capitalism in her, while in the West" (in den westlichen
Landern) it is more the workmen who are fighting it" .* * But
how w ill the German intellectuals elim inate capitalism? By
organising production (Organisation der Arbeit). And what must
the intellectuals do to organise production? Allgenieines Volksblatt
which was published at Cologne in 1845 proposed the following
measures:
1. Promotion of popular education, organisation of popular
lectures, concerts, etc.
2. Organisation of big workshops in which workmen, artisans
and handicraftsmen could work for themselves, not for an employer
or a merchant. Allgenieines Volksblatt hoped th a t in time these
artisans and handicraftsmen would themselves, on their own
initiative, be grouped in associations.
3. Establishment of stores for the sale of the goods manufac
tured by the artisans and handicraftsmen, and also by national
workshops.
These measures would save Germany from the evils of capital
ism. And it was all the more easy to adopt them, added the paper
we have quoted, because here and there people have already
begun to establish permanent stores, so-called industrial bazaars,
in which artisans can put out their goods for sale , and immediate
ly receive a certain advance on account of them .... Then followed
an exposition of the advantages which would follow from all this,
both for the producer and for the consumer.
* Ibid., S. 8fi. Notiztn und Xachrichten.
** See the article by Hess in the same volume of the same review, p. 1
** seg. See also Seue Anekdoten, herausgogeben von Karl Griin, Darmstadt,
'845, p. 220. In Germany, as opposed to France, it is the educated minority
which engages in the struggle with capitalism and "ensures victory owr it.
* 4 01329
690
G. P LEK HA N O V
The elim ination of capitalism seems easiest of all where

is still poorly developed. Therefore the German Utopians frequenti' 1
and w illingly underlined the circumstance that Germany was ^
yet England: Heinzen was even ready flatly to deny t h e existen0 1
of a factory proletariat in Germany. But since, for t h e Utopian0**
the chief thing was to prove to society the necessity of organisii*
production, they passed at times, w ithout difficulty and without
noticing it , over lo the standpoint of people who asserted that
German capitalism could no longer develop any further, in const,
quence of its inherent contradictions, that the internal market had
already been saturated, that- the purchasing power of the population
was fallin g , that the conquest of external markets was improbable
and that therefore the number of workers engaged in manufacturing
industry must inevitably and constantly diminish. This was the
point of view adopted by the journal Der Gesellschafts-Spiegel,
which we have quoted several times, and which was one of the
chief organs of the German Utopians of that day, after the appear
ance of the interesting pam phlet of L. Buhl: Andeutungen uber
die Noth der arbeitenden Klassen und uber die Aufgabe der Vereine
zum Wohl derselben (Suggestions on the Needy Slate of the Working
Class and on. the Tasks of the Unions for the Welfare Thereof . Ed.),
Berlin, 1845. Buhl asked himself, were the unions for promoting
the welfare of the working class in a position to cope with their
task? In order to reply to this question, he put forward another,
namely, whence arose at the present time the poverty of the
working class? The poor man and the proletarian are not at all
one and the same thing, says B uhl. The poor man w ont or can't
work; the proletarian seeks work, he is capable of doing it, but
it does not exist, and he falls into poverty. Such a phenomenon was
quite unknown in previous times, although there always were
the poor and there were always the oppressedfor example,
the serfs.
Where did the proletarian come from? lie was created by com
petition. Com petition, which broke the old bonds that fettered
production, brought forth an unprecedented industrial prosperity.
But it also forces employers to lowrer the price of their goods.
Therefore they try lo reduce wages or the number of the employed.
The latter object is achieved by the perfecting of machinery,
which throws many workers on to the streets. Moreover, artisans
cannot stand up to the competition of machine production, and
are also transformed into proletarians. Wages fall more and more.
Buhl points to the example of the cotton print industry, which
was flourishing in Germany as lato as the 20s. Wages were then
very high. A good workman could earn from 18 to 20 thaler*
a week. B ut machines appeared, and w ith them female and child
labourand wages fell t e r r i b l y . The principle of free c o m p e t i t i o n
th e
d e v e l o p m e n t o r t h e m o n i s t v i e w o f h i s t o r y 091
acts thus always and everywhere, wherever it achieves predomi

nance. I t leads to overproduction, and overproduction to unem
ployment. And the more developed becomes large-scale industry,
the more unemployment grows and the smaller becomes the num b
er of workmen engaged in industrial undertakings. That this
is really so is shown by the fact lh a t the disasters mentioned occur
only in industrial countries. Agricultural countries dont know
them. But the state of affairs created by free competition is
extremely dangerous for society (fur die Gesellschaft), and there
fore society cannot remain indifferent to it. W hat then must
society do? Here Buhl turns to the question which holds first
place, so to speak, in his work: is any union at all able to eradicate
the poverty of the working class?
The local Berlin union for assisting the working class has set
itself the object not so much of e lim inating existing poverty,
as of preventing the appearance of poverty in the future". It is
to this union that Buhl now turns. How w ill you prevent the
appearance of poverty in the future, he asks: what will you do
for this purpose? The poverty of the modern worker arises from
the lack of demand for bis labour. The worker ueeds not charity
but work. But where w ill the union get work from? In order that
the demand for labour should increase, it is necessary that the
demand for the products of labour should increase. But this
demand is dim inishing, thanks to the dim in ution of the earnings
of the working mass. Or perhaps the unions w ill discover new
markets? Buhl does not think that possible either. He comes to
the conclusion that the task which the Berlin union has set itself
is merely a well-intentioned, illusion".
Buhl advises the Berlin union to meditate more deeply on the
causes of the poverty of the working class, before beginning
the struggle against it. He considers palliatives to be of no impor
tance. Labour exchanges, savings banks and pension funds, and
the like, can of course improve the position of a few' individuals:
but they w ill not eradicate the evil. Nor w ill associations do that:
Associations also w ill not escape the harsh necessity (dura necessitas) of com petition.
Where Buhl himself discerned the means of eradicating the
evil, it is difficult to ascertain exactly from his pamphlet. It seems
as though he hints that the interference of the state is necessary
to remedy the evil, adding however that the result of such inter
ference W'ould be doubtful. At any rate, his pamphlet made a deep
impression on the German intellectuals at thut time; and not at
Il in tho sense of disillusioning them. On the contrary, they
saw in it a new proof of the necessity of organising labour.
Here is what the journal Der Gesellschajts-Spiegel wrote of
B u h ls pamphlet:
44*
92
G. P LEK HA N O V
The well-known Berlin writer L. Buhl has published a wo i,

entitled Andeutungen, etc. He th in k sand we share his opinion
that the miseries of the working class follow from the excess Tf
productive forces; that that excess is the consequence of fre,
com petition and of the latest discoveries and inventions in physic*
and mechanics; that a return to guilds and corporations would
be just as harmful as impeding discoveries and inventions; that
therefore in existing social conditions (the italics are those of the
writer of the review) there are no effective means of helping the
workmen. Assuming that present-day egotistical private-enter
prise relations remain unchanged, one must agree with Buhl
that no union w ill bo in a position to abolish the existing poverty.
But such an assumption is not at all necessary; on tho contrary"
there could arise and already do arise unions the aim of which
is to elim inate by peaceful means the above-mentioned
egotistical basis of our society. All that is necessary is thut
the government should not handicap the activity of such
unions.
It is clear that the reviewer had not understood, or had not
wished to understand, B u h ls idea: but this is nol important
for us. We turned to Germany only in order, w ith the help of the
lessons provided by her history, better to understand certain
intellectual tendencies in present-day Russia. And in this sense
the movement of the German intellectuals of the 40s comprises
much that is instructive for us.
In the first place, the line of argument of Buhl reminds us
of that of Mr. N . on. Both one and the other begin by pointing
to the development of the productive forces as the reason for the
decline in the demand for labour, and consequently for the relative
reduction of the number of workers. Both one and the other speak
of the saturation of the internal market, and of the necessity
arising therefrom of a further dim inution in the demand for labour.
Buhl did not adm it, apparently, the possibility that the Germans
m ight conquer foreign markets; Mr. N . on resolutely refuses
to recognise this possibility as regards the Russian manufacturers.
F inally , both one and the other leave this question of foreign
markets entirely w ithout investigation: neither brings forward
a single serious argument in favour of his opin ion . 481
Buhl makes no obvious conclusion from his in v e s tig a tio n .
xcept that one must meditate more deeply on the position of
ihe working class before helping it. Mr. N . on comes lo tho
^conclusion that our society is faced w ith, true, a difficult but
not an insoluble taskthat of organising our national production.
But if we supplement the views of Buhl by the consid e ra tio n s set
forth in connection w ith them by the reviewer of Der GesellscfuiftsSpiegel whom we have quoted, the result is precisely
THE DEVELOPMENT 01-' THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY 693
of Mr. N . on. M r. N . on Buhl-{-the reviewer.

And this formula' leads us to the following reflections.
Mr. N .on in our country is called a Marxist, and even the
only true Marxist. But can it be said that the sum of the views
0f Buhl and his reviewer on the position of Germany in tho
4 (js was equivalent to the views of Marx on the same position?
]n other words, was B uhl, supplemented by his reviewer, a Marx
ist_and withal the only true Marxist, the Marxist par excellence?
O f course not. From the fact that Buhl pointed out the contradic
tion into which capitalist society falls, thanks to the development
of the productive forces, it does not yet follow that he adopted the
point of view of Marx. He examined these contradictions from
a very abstract point of view, and already thanks to this alone his
investigation had not, in its spirit, anything in common w ith the
views of Marx. After hearing B uhl one m ight have thought that.
German capitalism , today or tomorrow, would be suffocated under
the weight of its own development, that it had nowhere any
longer to go, that handicrafts had been finally capitalised, and
that the number of German workers would rapidly decline. Such
views Marx never expressed. On the contrary, when he had
occasion to speak of the immediate future of German capitalism ,
at the end of the 40s and particularly at the beginning of the 50s,
he said something quite different. O nly people who did not in
the least understand his views could have considered the German
N .ons lo be true Marxists.*
c o n c lu s io n
*
There were many N .ons in Germany at that lime, and of the most
varying tendencies. The most remarkable, perhaps, were the conservatives.
Thus for example, Dr. Karl Vollgraf, ordentlicher Professor dor Rechte, in
a pamphlet bearing an extremely long title (Von der Ober und unter ihr naturnothwendiges Mass erweiterten und herabgedriickten Concurrenz in alien
Nahrungs- und Erwerbszweigen des burgerlichen Lebens, als der n&chsten
Vrsache des allgemeinen, alle Klassen mehr oder weniger druckenden Nothstandes
in Deutschland, insonderheit des Getreidewuchers, sowie von den Mitteln zu
Hirer Abstellung, Darmstadt, 1848) \On the Competition Extended Over and
Depressed Below Its Natural Level in A ll Branches of Trade and Industry
in Civil Life, As the Immediate Cause of the Depression Affecting More or
Less A ll Classes in Germany, Particularly of the t/surous Trade In Corn, and
on the Measures for Ending the Same], represented the economic situation
of the German Fatherland amazingly like the way the Russian economic
siluaiion is represented in the book Sketches of Our Social Economy since the
Reform. Vollgraf also presented matters as though the development of pro
ductive forces had already led, under the influence of free competiton, to the
relative dim inution of the number of workers engaged in industry. He described
>*i greater detail than Buhl the influence of unemployment on the state
of the internal market. Producers in one branch of industry are at the same
tuno consumers for products of other branches, but as unemployment de
prives the producers of purchasing power, demand diminishes, in consequence
lltlPrnployment becomes general and there arises complete pauperism
(volligor Pauperismus). "A nd as the peasantry is also ruined ouring to excessive
694
G. P LEK HA NO V
Tho German N .ons argued just as abstractly as our prexe

buhls and Vollgrafs. To argue abstractly means to make mistakes
even in those cases when you start from an absolutely correct
principle. Do you know, reader, what were the antiphysics of
D Alembert? D Alembert said that, on the basis of the most
unquestionable physical laws, he would prove tho inevitability
of phenomena which were quite impossible in reality. One must
only, in following the operation of every given law, forget for
the time being lhat (here exist other laws altering its operation
The result would certainly be quite nonsensical. To prove this
D Alembert gave several really b rillia n t examples, and even
intended to wrrite a complete antiphysics in his leisure moments.
The Messrs. Vollgrafs and N .ons are already w riting an anti
economics, not as a joke but quite seriously. Their method is as
follows. They take a certain indisputable economic law, and
correctly indicate its tendency, then they forget that the realisa
tion of this law in life is an entire historical process, and represent
matters as though the tendency of the law in question had already
been completely put into effect by the time they began writing
their work. If at the same time the Vollgraf, Buhl or N __ on in
question accumulates a pile of ill-digested statistical material,
and sets about relevantly and irrelevantly quoting Marx, his
sketch acquires the appearance of a scientific and convincing
piece of research, in the spirit of the author of Capital. But this
is an optical illusion, no more.
That, for example, Vollgraf left out a great deal in analysing
the economic life of the Germany of his day is shown by an indu
bitable fact: his prophecy about the decomposition of the. social
organism" of that country completely failed to materialise. Ami
that Mr. N .ou quite iu vain makes use of tho name of Marx,
just as Mr. Y . Zhukovsky in vain used to have recourse to the
integral calculus, even t lie most worthy S. N. Krivenko will
understand w ithout difficulty.
In spite of the opinion of those gentlemen who reproach Marx
w ith one-sidedness, that writer never examined the e c o n o m ic
competition, a complete stagnation of business arises. The social organism
decomposes, its physiological processes lead lo the appearance of a savage mans,
and hunger produces in this mass a ferment against which public penalties
even arms are impotent." Free competition leads in the villages to reduction
of peasant holdings to liny dimensions. In no peasant household do the working
hands find sufficient employment all the year round. Thus in thousands of vil
lages,particularly those in areas of poor fertility, almost exactly as in Ireland,
the poor peasants stand without work or employment before the doors oj
their houses. None of them can help one another, for they all have too little,
a ll need wages, all seek work and do not find it . Vollgraf for his part invent
ed a number of measures for combating the destructive operation of
competition, though not in the spirit of the socialist journal Der GeseUschafts-Spiegel.
the
p r o g r e s s of a particular country apart from its connection with

those social forces which, growing up on its basis, themselves influenced
its further development. (This is not yet quite clear to you, Mr.
g. N. Krivenko: but patience!) Once a certain economic condition
is known, certain social forces become known, and their action w ill
n e c e s s a r i l y affect the further development of that condition (is pa
tience deserting you, Mr. Krivenko? Here is a practical example
for you). Wo know the economy of England in the epoch of prim i
tive capitalist accumulation. Thereby we know the social forces
which, by Ihe way, sat in the English parliam ent of that day.
The action of those social forces was the necessary condition for
the further development of the known economic situation, while
the direction of their action was conditioned by the characteristics
of that situation.
Once we know the economic situation of modern England,
we know thereby her modern social forces, the action of which
will tell on her future economic development. When Marx was
engaged in what some please to call his guesswork, he took into
account these social forces, and did not imagine that their action
could be stopped at will by this or that group of persons, strong
only in their excellent intentions (M it der G rundlichkeit der
geschichtlichen Action wird der Umfang der Masse zunehmen,
deren Action sie ist) (Together w ith the thoroughness of the
historical action will also grow the volume of the mass whose
action it is"].
The German Utopians of the 40s argued otherwise. W hen
they set themselves certain tasks, they had in m ind only the
adverse sides of the economic situation of their country, forgetting
to investigate the social forces which had grown up from that
situation. The economic situation of our people is distressful,
argued the above-mentioned reviewer: consequently we are faced
with the difficult but not insoluble problem of organising produc
tion. But will not that organisation be prevented by those same
social forces which have grown up on the basis of the distressful
economic situation? The woll-meaning reviewer did not ask
himself this question. The Utopian never reckons sufficiently
with the social forces of his age, for the simple reason that, to
'isc the expression of Marx, he always places himself above society.
And for the same reason, again to use the expression of Marx,
all the calculations of the Utopian prove to be ohno Wirth
gemacht (made without reckoning w ith his host Ed.), and
f i l l his criticism is no more than complete absence of criticism ,
incapacity critically lo look at the reality around him .
The organisation of production in a particular country could
arise only as a result of the operation of those social forces which
xisted in that country. W hat is necessary for the organisation
6911
G. P LEK H A N O V
of production? The conscious attitude of the producers to

process of production, taken in a ll its complexity and totahi
Where there is no such conscious attitude as yet, only il
people can put forward the idea of organising production as th*
immediate task of society who remain incorrigible Utopians M
their lives, even though they should repeat the name of Mar
five m illia rd times w ith the greatest respect. W hat does Mr. N."o*
say about the consciousness of the producers in his notorious book?
Absolutely nothing: he pins his hope on the consciousness of
society. If after this he can and must be recognised as a true
Marxist, we see no reason why one should not recognise Mr. Kri
venko as being the only true Hegelian of our age, the Hegelian
par excellence.
But it is time to conclude. W hat results have we achieved
by our use of the comparative historical method? If we arc* not
mistaken, they are the following:
1. The conviction of Heinzen and his adherents that Marx w h s
condemned by his own views to inaction in Germany prove*]
to be nonsense. E qu a lly nonsense w ill also prove the conviction
of Mr. M ikhailovsky that the persons who nowadays, in Russia,
hold the views of Marx cannot bring any benefit to the Russian
poople, but on the contrary must injure it.
2. The views of the Buhls and Vollgrafs on the economic situa
tion of Germany at that time proved to be narrow, one-sided and
mistaken because of their abstract character. There is ground
for fear that the further economic history of Russia w ill disclose
the same defects in the views of Mr. N . on.
3. The people who in Germany of the 40s made their immedinto
task the organisation of production were Utopians. Similar
Utopians are the people who talk about organising production
in present-day Russia.
4. History has swept away the illusions of the German Utopians
of the 40s. There is every justification for thin king thal the same
fate w ill overtake the illusions of our Russian Utopians. Capital
ism laughed at the first; w ith pain in our heart, we foresee that
it w ill laugh at the second as well.
But did these illusions really bring no benefit to the G e r m a n
people? In the economic sense, absolutely none or, if you require
a more exact expression, almost none. A ll these bazaars for selling
handicraft goods, and a ll these attempts to create p r o d u c e r s
associations, scarcely eased the position of even a hundred G e r m a n
producers. B ut they promoted the awakening of the s elf- c o n s
ciousness of those producers, and thereby did them a great deal
of good. The same benefit, but this time directly and not in
a roundabout way, was rendered by the educational activity
of the German intellectuals: their schools, peoples r e a d i n g room?.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF HISTORY
697
etc. The consequences of capitalist development which were

harmful for the German people could be, at every particular
moment, weakened or elim inated only to the extent to which
the self-consciousness of the German producers developed. Marx
understood this better than the U topians, and therefore his
activity proved more beneficial to the German people.
The same, undoubtedly, wdll be the case in Russia too. No
later than in the October issue of Russkoye Bogatstvo for 1894,
Mr. S. N. Krivenko worries as we say about the organisation
of Russian production.482 Mr. Krivenko w ill elim inate nothing
and make no one happy by these worries. His worries are
clumsy, awkward, barren: but if they, in spite of all these negative
qualities, awaken the self-consciousness of even one producer,
they w ill prove beneficial and then it w ill turn out that Mr. K ri
venko has lived on this earth not only in order to make mistakes
in logic, or to give wrong translations of extracts from foreign
articles which he found disagreeable. I t w ill be possible in our
country, too, to fight against the harmful consequences of our
capitalism only to the extent that there develops the self-consciousness of the producer. And from these words of ours the
subjectivist gentlemen can see that we are not at all vulgar mate
rialists. If we are narrow , it is only in one sense: that we set
before ourselves, first and foremost, a perfectly idealistic aim.
And now u n til we meet again, gentlemen opponents! We a nti
cipate all that greatest of pleasures which your objections
will bring us. O nly, gentlemen, do keep an eye on Mr. Krivenko.
Even though he doesnt write badly, and at any rate does so w ith
feeling, yet to put two and two together that has not been
vouchsafed him .
A PPendix I
ONCE AGAIN MR. MIKHAILOVSKY,

ONCE MORE THE TRIAD"
In the October issue of Russkoye Bogatstvo, Mr. Mikhailovsky,

replying to Mr. P. Struve, again has made some observations
on the philosophy of Hegel and on economic materialism.*83
According to him , the materialist conception of history and
economic materialism are not one and the same thing. The econom
ic materialists draw everything from economics. W ell, but if
I seek the root or foundation not only of the legal and political
institutions, of the philosophical and other views of society, but
also of its economic structure, in the racial or tribal peculiarities
of its members, in the proportions of the longitudinal and trans
verse diameters of their skulls, in the character of their facial
angle, in the size and in clinatio n of their jaws, in the size of their
thorax, the strength of their muscles, etc.: or, on the other hand,
in purely geographical factors in the island position of England,
in the steppe character of part of Asia, in the mountainous charac
ter of Switzerland, in the freezing of rivers in the north, etc,
w ill not this be the materialist conception of history? It is clear
that economic materialism, as an historical theory, is only a par
ticular case of the m aterialist conception of history....*
Montesquieu was inclined to explain the historical fate of
peoples by purely geographical factors. To the extent that he
consistently upheld these factors, he was undoubtedly a material
ist. Modern dialectical materialism does not ignore, as we have
seen, the influence of geographical environment on the develop
ment of society. It only ascertains better in what way g e o g r a p h i c a l
factors influence social man. It shows that the g e o g r a p h i c *
environment provides men w ith a greater or lesser p o s s i b i l i * >
of developing their productive forces, and thereby pushes them,
more or less energetically, along the path of historical p r o g r e s s .
Montesquieu argued thus: A certain geographical environmen
determines certain physical and psychical qualities of men, an^
these qualities bring in their train this or that structure of societj
* Russkoye Bogatstvo, October 1894, Part I I , p. 50.
AGA IN MK. M IK H A IL O V S K Y . ONCE M ORE THE T R IA D " 099
Dialectical materialism reveals that such an argument is unsatis

factory, and that the influence of geographical environment
shows itself iirst of a ll, and in the strongest degree, in the character
of social relations, which in their turn influence the views of men,
their customs and even their physical development infinitely
more strongly than, for example, climate. Modern geographical
science (let us again recall the book of Mechnikov and its foreword
hv Elisee Recltis) fu lly agrees in this respect w ith dialectical
materialism. This materialism is, of course, a particular case
of the materialist view of history. But it explains it more fully,
more universally, than could those other particular cases.
Dialectical materialism is the highest development of the materialist
conception of history.
Holbach said that the historical fate of peoples is sometimes
determined for a whole century ahead by the motion of an atom
which has begun to play tricks in lhe brain of a powerful man.
This was also a m aterialist view of history. But it. was of no avail
in explaining historical phenomena. Modern dialectical material
ism is incomparably more fruitful in this respect. It is of course
a particular case of the materialist view of history but precisely
that particular case which alone corresponds to the modern
condition of science. The impotence of H olbachs materialism
showed itself in the return of its supporters to idealism: Opinions
govern the world." Dialectical materialism now drives idealism
from its last positions.
Mr. M ikhailovsky imagines that only that man would be
a consistent materialist who explains all phenomena with the
help of molecular mechanics. Modern dialectical materialism
cannot discover the mechanical explanation of history. This is,
if you like, its weakness. But is modern biology able to give
a mechanical explanation of the origin and development of species?
It is not. That is its weakness.* The genius of whom Laplace
dreamed would have been, of course, above such weakness. But
we sim ply don t know when that genius w ill appear, and we
satisfy ourselves w ith such explanations of phenomena as best,
correspond to the science of our age. Such is our particular
case".
*
Editor's Note: Plekbanovs statement is radically at variance with the
basic principles of Marxist-Leninist dialectics. Dialectical materialism has
never aimed at reducing all natural and social phenomena to mechanics,
Riving mechanical explanations of the origin and development of species
ml of the historic process. Mechanical motion is by no means the only form
motion. ...The motion of matter, Engels says, "is not merely crude mechan
ical motion, mere change of place, it is heat and light, electric and magnetic
pension, chemical combination and dissociation, life and, finally, conscious
ness. (F. Engels, Dialectics of Nature, Moscow, 1966, pp. 36-37.)
700
G. PLEK H A N O V
Dialectical materialism says that it is not the conscious

of men which determines their being, but, on the contrary
social being that determines their consciousness; that it is not*^
the philosophy hut in the economics of a particular society t! i
one must seek the key to understanding its particular conditio
Mr. M ikhailovsky makes several remarks on this subject On
of them reads as follows:
ie
...The negative halves (!) of the basic formula of the materia),
ist sociologists contain a protest or a reaction not against p h i l o s
ophy in general, but evidently against thal of Hetrel. It is to
the latter that belongs the explanation of being from conscious
ness.... The founders of economic materialism are Hegelians and
in that capacity, they insist so stubbornly not from philosophy,*
not from consciousness , that they cannot, and do not even at
tempt to, burst out of tho circle of Hegelian thought..*
When we read these lines we thought that here our author,
like Mr. Kareyev, was groping his way to the synthesis. Of
course, we said to ourselves, the synthesis of Mr. Mikhailovsky
w ill be a little higher than that of Mr. Kareyev; Mr. Mikhailovsky
w ill not confine himself to repeating that thought of the deacon
in G. I. Uspenskys tale The Incurable,484 that the spirit is
a thing apart and that, as matter has various spices for its
benefit, so equally has the spirit . S till, Mr. Mikhailovsky too
w ill not refrain from synthesis. Hegel is the thesis, economic
materialism is the antithesis, and the eclecticism of the modern
Russian subjectivists is the synthesis. How could one resist the
tem ptation of such a triad? And then it occurred to us
what was the real relationship between the historical theory
of Marx and the philosophy of Hegel.
First of all we noted that in Ilegel historical movement, is
not at a ll explained by the views 0/ men or by their philosophy. It
was the French materialists of the eighteenth century who explained
history by the views, the opinions of men. Hegel ridiculed such
an explanation: of course, he said, reason rules in historybut
then it also rules the movement of the celestial bodies, and an*
they conscious of their movement? The historical development of
m ankind is reasonable in the sense that it is law-governed; but thi
law-governed nature of historical development does not yet p r o v e
at all that its ultim ate cause must be sought in the views of me"
or in their opinions. Quite on the contrary: that conformity to
law shows that men make their history unconsciously.
We dont remember, we continued, what the historical views 0
Hegel look like according to Lewes; but that we a r e n o t , distort
ing them, anyone w ill agree who has read the famous Philoso* Russkoye Bogatstvo, October 1894, Part II, pp. 51-52.
0 isifJS A G A lN MR. M IK H A IL O V S K Y , ONCE M ORE THE T R IA D 701
ifl ainruimg
uiut X
fc 10 nvt* mu punuoujjuj ui moil wiiiC'Ji uebl'rilMiieri
t|iejr social existence, the supporters of economic materi

alism are not controverting Hegel at all, and consequently in
'this respect they represent no antithesis to him . And this means
that Mr. M ikhailovskys synthesis w ill not bo successful, even
s h o u ld our author not confine himself to repeating the idea of the
deacon.
In the opinion of Mr. Mikhailovsky, to affirm that philosophy,
i.e., the views of men, does not explain their history, was possible
only iu Germany in the 40s, when a revolt against the Hegeli
an system was not yet noticeable. We now see that such an opin
io n is founded, at best, only on Lewes.
But how poorly Lewes acquaints Mr. M ikhailovsky w ith the
course of development of philosophical thought in Germany is
demonstrated, apart from the foregoing, by the following circum
stance. Our author quotes w ith delight the well-known letter of
Belinsky, in which the latter makes his bow to the philosophi
cal nightcap of Hegel.485 In this letter Belinsky says, among other
things: The fate of a subject, an indiv id ual, a personality is
more important than the fate of the world and the weal of the
Chinese Emperor, viz., the Hegelian Allgemeinheit [Universal
ity]. Mr. M ikhailovsky makes many remarks on the subject of
this letter, but he does not remark that Belinsky has dragged in
the Hegelian Allgemeinheit quite out of place. Mr. Mikhailovsky
evidently thinks that, the Hegelian Allgemeinheit is just the
same as the spirit or the absolute idea. But Allgemeinheit does
not constitute in Hegel even the m ain distinguishing feature of
the absolute idea. Allgemeinheit occupies in his work a place
no more honourable than, for example, Besonderheit or Einzelheit (Ind iv id u ality or Singleness.Ed.). And in consequence
of this il is incomprehensible why precisely Allgemeinheit is
called the Chinese Emperor, and deservesunlike its other sis
tersan attentive and mocking bow. This may seem a detail,
unworthy of attention at the present time; but it is not so.
Hegels Allgemeinheit. badly understood, still prevents Mr. M i
khailovsky. for example, from understanding the history of German philosophy prevents him to such an extent that even Lewes
does not rescue him from misfortune.
In the opinion of Mr. M ikhailovsky, worship of Allgemeinheit
led Hegel to complete negation of the rights of the individual.
There is no system of philosophy, he says, which treats the
m dividual w ith such w ithering contempt and cold crueltv as the
system of ITegel (p. 55). This can be true only according to
êiies. W hy did ITegel consider the history of the East to be the
rst, lowest stage in the development of mankind? Because in
702
G. PLEK HAN OV
tho East tho individual was not developed, and had not up tin
thou been developed. W hy did Ilegel speak w ith enthusiasm or
ancient Greece, in the history of which modern man feels hiuis.lf
at last at home? Because in Greece in divid ual personality Wil,
developed (beautiful in d iv id u a lity schone IndividualitsrV
W hy did Hegel speak w ith such admiration of Socrates? Why did
he, almost first among the historians of philosophy, pay a j st
tribute even to the sophists? Was it really because he despised the
individual?
Air. M ikhailovsky has heard a bell, hut where he cannot toll.
liege] not only did not despise the in d iv id ua l, but created a
whole cult of heroes, which was inherited in its entirety thereafter
by Bruno Bauer. For Hegel heroes were the instruments of tho
universal spirit, and in that sense they themselves were not free.
Bruno Bauer revolted against the spirit , and thereby set free
his heroes". For him the heroes of critical thought" were the real
demiurges of history, as opposed to the mass , which, although it
does irritate its heroes almost to tears by its slow-wittedness and
its sluggishness, still does finish up in the end by marching alonjj
the path marked out by the heroes self-consciousness. The con
trasting of heroes and mass" (mob) passed from Bruno Bauer
to his Russian illegitim ate children, and we now have the plea
sure of contemplating it in the articles of Mr. Mikhailovsky.
Mr. M ikhailovsky does not remember his philosophical kinship:
that is not praiseworthy.
And so we have suddenly received the elements of a new syn
thesis. The Hegelian cult of heroes, serving the universal spirit,
is the thesis. The Bauer cult of heroes of critical thought, guided
only by their self-consciousness, is the antithesis. Finally, the
theory of Marx, which reconciles both extremes, eliminating
the universal spirit and explaining the origin of the heroes'selfconsciousness by the development of environment, is Ihe stjnthesis.
Onr opponents, so partial to synthesis, must remember lh|
the theory of Marx was not at all the first direct reaction a g a i n s t
Ilegel: that lhat first reaction superficial on account of its onesidedness was constituted in Germany by the views of Feuer
bach and particularly of Bruno Bauer, with w h o m o u r subject''ists should long ago have acknowledged their kinship.
Not a few other incongruities have also been piled up >>
Mr. M ikhailovsky about Ilegel and about Marx in his nr,ir |
against Mr. P. Struve. Space does not permit us to t',1,!"u>r,tl|u.
them here. We w ill confine ourselves to offering our r e a d e r
following interesting problem.
. re oi
We know M r. Mikhailovsky; we know his complete ignoran ^
Hegel; we know his complete incomprehension of M arx; we know
nnT.E AGA IN M R . M IK H A IL O V S K Y , ONCE M ORE THE T R IA D 703
irresistible striving to discuss Hegel, M arx and their m utual rela

tions; the problem is, how matiy more mistakes w ill Air. M ik h a i
lovsky make thanks to his striving?
Pul it is hardly likely that anyone w ill succeed in solving: this
problem; it is an equation w ith too many unknowns. There is
only 0110 nieans of replacing unknown magnitudes in it by definite
magnitudes; it is to read the articles of Mr. M ikhailovsky care
fully and notice his mistakes. True, that is a far from joyful or easy
task: there w ill be very m any mistakes, if only Mr. M ikhailovsky
does not get rid of his bad habit of discussing philosophy without
consulting beforehand people who know more about it than lie
does.
We shall not. deal here with the attacks made by Mr. M ikhai
lovsky on Mr. P. Struve. As far as these attacks are concerned,
Mr. Mikhailovsky now belongs to the author of Critical Remarks
on the Question of the Economic Development of Russia, anil we do
not wish to aspire to the property of another. However, Mr.
P. Struve w ill perhaps forgive us if we permit ourselves lo make
two small observations.
Mr. M ikhailovsky is insulted because Mr. P. Struve struck at
him with a queslion-mark. lie is so insulted that, not conlining
himself to pointing out faults of style in the language of Mr. Stru
ve, he accuses him of being a non-Russian, and even recalls lhe
story of two Germans, one of whom said he had shooted a crow,
ami the other corrected him , saying that grammar required
shotted. W hy did Mr. Struve, however, raise his hand, armed
with a question-mark, against Mr. Mikhailovsky? It was because
of his words: The modern economic order in Europe began to
fmne into existence al a time when the science which manages
this sphere of phenomena was not yet in existence, etc. The ques
tion-mark accompanies the word manages. Mr. Mikhailovsky
says: In German that may not perhaps sound well" (liowbit'ng: In German !), but in Russian, I assure you, Mr. Struve, it
Arouses no question in any one, and requires no question-mark.
The writer of these lines bears a purely Russian name, and pos
sesses just as much of the Russian soul as Mr. M ikhailovsky: the
uiost sarcastic critic w ill not venture to call him a German: and
nevertheless the word manages arouses a question in him . lie
flsks himself: if one can say that science manages a certain sphere
* phenomena, could not one after this promote lhe technical arts
to be chiefs of particular units? Could not one say, for example: the
art of assaying commands alloys? In our opinion, this would be
*'vk\vard, it would give the arts too m ilitary an appearance, in
J|Jst the same way as the word manages gives science the appear>ice of a bureaucrat. Consequently, Mr. M ikhailovsky is wrong.
n 'Ve failed to react to the question; it is hard to say how he
704
G. P LEK H A N O V
would have corrected M ikhailovskys unhappy expression. L,et

us assume that he would have shotted a crow. B ut it is unfortu
nately an accomplished fact that M ikhailovsky has already shooted several crows. And yet he does not seem to be a non-Rus.
* US
sian .
Mr. M ikhailovsky in his article raised an amusing outcry about
the words of Mr. Struve: No, let us recognise our lack of culture
and go into training by capitalism .486 Mr. Mikhailovsky wants
to represent affairs as though these words meant: Let us hand
over the producer as a victim to the exploiter.'" I t w ill be easy for
Mr. P. Struve to demonstrate the vanity of Mr. M ikhailovskys
efforts, and it w ill probably be seen now by anyone who has care
fully read the Critical Remarks. B ut Mr. Struve nevertheless did
express himself very carelessly, whereby he probably led into
tem ptation many simpletons and rejoiced the heart of some
acrobats. That w ill teach you a lesson, we shall say to Mr. Struve,
and we shall remind tho acrobatic gentry how Belinsky, at the
very end of his life, when he had long ago said good-bye to Allgeincinheit, expressed the idea in one of his letters that the cultural
future of Russia can only be ensured by the bourgeoisie.487 In Be
linsky this was also a very clumsy threat. But wliat washisclumsiness aroused by? Generous fascination by the West. I t is the same
fascination that brought about, we are convinced, the awkward
ness of Mr. Struve. It is permissible to make a noise on the subject
of that clumsiness only for those who have no reply, for example,
to his economic arguments.
Mr. Krivenko too has declared war on Mr. P. Struve.488 lie has
his own cause of offence. He wrongly translated an extract from
a German article by Mr. P. Struve, and the latter has exposed
him . Mr. Krivenko justifies himself, and tries to show' that the
translation is almost correct; but his are lame excuses and he
still remains guilty of distorting the words of his opponent. But
you cant ask too much of Mr. Krivenko, in view' of his u n d o u b t e d
resemblance to a certain bird, of whom it has been said:
Siren, that heavenly bird.
Its voice in singing is loudly heard-,
When the Lord's praise it sings,
To forget its own self it begins,489
When Mr. Krivenko is shaming the disciples, to forget his
own self he begins. W hy cant you let him alone, Mr. Struve?
Appendix
II
A FEW WORDS TO OUR OPPONENTS

I
Tin* question is again being raised in our literature: what path

will the economic development of Russia follow? It is being dis
cussed lengthily and passionately, so passionately that people
who are known in common parlance as sensible minds are even
perturbed by what would seem the excessive heat of the contend
ing parties. W hy, the sensible ones say, get excited and hurl
proud challenges and bitter reproaches at your opponents? W hy
jeer at them? W ould it not be better to examine dispassionately a
question which is indeed of immense importance to our country,
but which, just because of ils immense importance, calls for dis
passionate examination?
As always, the sensible minds are right and wrong at one and
the same time. W hy, indeed, such excitement and passion on
the part of writers belonging to two different camps each of
whichwhatever ils opponents m ight say is striving to the best
of its understanding, strength and a b ility to uphold the most im
portant and most essential interests of the people? Evidently, the
question has only to be put to have il answered im m ediately and
once and for all with the help of two or three platitudes which
might find a place in any copybook, such as: tolerance is a good
thing; respect the opinions of others even if Ihey radically differ
from your own, and so on. A ll this is very true, and it has been
told the world a very long time now. But it is no less true lhat
human beings were, are, and w ill be inclined to get passionate
wherever the issue affected, affects, or w ill affect their vital inter
ests. Such is hum an naturewe m ight have said, if we did not
know how often anti how greallv this expression has been abused.
Nor is this the whole matter. The chief thing is that we human
beings have no reason to regret that such is our nature . No great
step in history has ever been taken w ithout the aid of passion,
which, m u ltip ly in g as it does the moral strength and sharpening
the intellectual faculties of people, is itself a great force of prog
ress. O nly such social questions are discussed dispassionately as
are quite unim portant in themselves, or have not yet become
* 5 0 1 32 9
700
G. PLEK H A N O V
immediate questions for the given country and the given pori
and are therefore of interest only to a handful of arm-chair I hi ]
ers. But once a big social question has become an
question, it w ill in fa llib ly arouse strong passions, no matter ho
earnestly the advocates of moderation may call for calmness
"
The question of the economic development of our country is
precisely that great social question which we cannot now discuss
w ith moderation for the simple reason that it has become an
immediate question. This of course does not mean that economics
has only now acquired decisive importance in our social develop
ment. It has always and everywhere been of such importance. But
in our country as everywhere elsethis importance has not.
always been consciously recognised by people interested in social
matters, and their passion was therefore concentrated on question.*
that had only the most remote relation to economics. Recall, for
instance, the 40s in our country. Not so now. Now the great and
fundamental importance of economics is realised in our counlry
even by those who passionately revolt against M arxs narrow"
theory of history. Now' all thinking people realise that our whole
future w ill be shaped by the w'ay the question of our economic
development is answered. That indeed is why even thinkers who
are anything but narrow' concentrate all their passion on this
question. But if we cannot now discuss this question w ith moder
ation, we can and should see to it even now that there is no licence
either in the defining of our own thoughts or in our polemical
methods. This is a demand to which no objection can possibly
be offered. Westerners know very well that earnest passion pre
cludes all licence. In our country, to be sure, it is s t ill sometimes
believed that passion and licence are kin sisters, but it is time
we too became civilised.
As far as the literary decencies are concerned, it is apparent
that we are already civilised to quite a considerable degreeso
considerable that our progressive , Mr. M ikhailovsky, lectures
the Germans (Marx, Engels, Diihring) because in their controver
sies one may allegedly find things that are absolutely fruitless,
or which distort things and repel by their rudeness. Mr. Mikhai
lovsky recalls Bornes remark that the Germans have always
been rude in controversy ! And I am afraid, he adds, that
together w ith other German influences, this traditional G e r m u ii
rudeness has also penetrated into our country, aggravated more
over by our own barbarousness, so that controversy b e c o m e s the
tirade against Potok-Bogatyr which Count A. Tolstoi puts into
the mouth of his princess:
imniedi'Y'
lYou cadger, mumper, ignorant sot!

Plague on your entrails, may you rot!
A FEW W O R D S TO OUH OPPONENTS
707
You calf, pig, swine, you Ethiop,

You devil's spawn, you dirty snob/
Were it not that my virginal shame
Forbids me stronger words to name,
'Tis not such oaths, you insolent cad,
I 'd shower down upon your head.' *m
This is not the first time Mr. M ikhailovsky alludes to Tolstois
coarse-mouthed princess. He has on many a previous occasion
advised Russian writers not to resemble her in their controver
sies. Excellent advice, theres no denying. Tis only a pity lhat
our author does not always follow it himself. We know, for
example, that he called one of his opponents a louse, and another
a literary acrobat. He ornamented his controversy with M. de la
Cerda w ith the following remark: Of all the European languages,
it is only in the Spanish that the word la cerda has a definite
signification, meaning in Russian pig." W hy the author bad to
say this, it is hard to imagine.
Nice, is it not? M. de la Cerda observed in this connection.
Yes, very nice, and quite in the spirit of Tolstois princess.
But the princess was blunter, and when she felt like swearing
she shouted simply: calf, pig, swine, etc., and did not do violence
to foreign languages in order to say a rude word to her oppo
nent.
Comparing Mr. M ikhailovsky with Tolstois princess, we find
that he scorns such words as E thiop, d evils spawn and so on,
and concentrates, if we may say so, on rude epithets. We
find him using swine and pig , and pigs moreover of the most
different kinds: Hamletised, green, etc. Very forcible this, if
rather monotonous. Generally speaking, if we turn from the v itu
perative vocabulary of Tolstois princess to that of our subjective
sociologist, we see that the living charms bloom in different pattern,
but in power and expressiveness they are in no way inferior to
the polemical charms of the lively princess. Est modus in rebus
(there is a measure in all things. Ed.) or, as the Russian has it,
you must know where to stop, says Mr. M ikhailovsky. N othing
could be truer, and we heartily regret thal our worthy sociologist
often forgets it. He m ight tragically exclaim:
Video meliora, proboque,
Deleriora sequor
However, it is to be hoped that in time Mr. M ikhailovsky too
" ill become civilised, that in the end his good intentions will
prevail over our own barbarousness , and he w ill cease h u rlin g
* Ritsskoye Bogatslvo, V ol. I, 1895, nrticle Literature and L ife .
** [I see the best and approve, but follow the worst!]
45*
708
G. PLEK H A N O V
swine and pig at his opponents. Mr. Mikhailovsky hims-lf

rightly thinks that la raison finit toujours par avoir raison. (Rp
son always triumphs in the end. Ed.)
a'
Our reading public no longer approves of virulent controversy
B ut, in its disapproval, it confuses virulence w ith rudeness, wlipi
they are very far from being the same. The vast difference between
virulence and rudeness was explained by Pushkin:
Abuse at times, of course, is quite unseemly.
You must not write, say: This old dodderer's
A goat in spectacles, a wretched slanderer.
Vicious and vile." These are personalities.
But you may write and p rin t, if so you will,
That this Parnassian O ld Believer is
(In his articles) a senseless jabberer,
For ever languorous, for ever tedious.
Ponderous, and even quite a dullard'.
For here there is no person, only an author.MIf, like Tolstois princess or Mr. Mikhailovsky, you should
thin k of calling your opponent a swine or a louse, these are
personalities"; but if you should argue that such and such a socio
logical or historical-sophistical or economic Old Believer is, in
his articles, works or essays, for ever languorous, for ever
tedious, ponderous and even ... dull-witted, well here there is
no person, only an author , and it w ill be virulence, not rudeness.
Your verdict, of course, may be mistaken, and your opponents
w ill be doing well if they disclose your mistake. B ut they will
liavo the right to accuse you only of a mistake, not of virulence,
for without such virulence literature cannot develop. If litera
ture should attempt lo get along w ithout virulence, it would at
once become, as Belinsky expressed it, a flattering reiterator of
stale platitudes, which only its enemies can wish il.
Mr. M ikhailovskys observation regarding the traditional Ger
man rudeness and our own barbarousness was provoked by Mr.
N. Boltovs interesting book, The Development of the Montst
View of History. Many have accused Mr. Boltov of unnecessary
virulence. For instance, a Russkaya Mysl reviewer has written in
reference to his book: W ithout sharing the, in our opinion one
sided, theory of economic materialism, we would be prepared
the interest of science and our social life to wrelcome the expu*
nenls of this theory, if some of them (Messrs. Struve and Belt<v|
did not introduce far too much virulence inlo their polemics, 'j
they did not jeer at writers whose works are worthy of respect!
This was written in the selfsame Russkaya Mysl which only n
little while ago was calling the advocates of economic materi
alism numskulls and asserting th a t Mr. P. Struve's book was
A FEW W O RDS TO O l'R
OPPONENTS
709
product of undigested erudition and a total incapacity for logi

cal thinking. Russkaya Mysl does not like excessive virulence
and therefore, as the reader sees, spoke of the advocates of eco
nomic materialism in the mildest terms. Now it is prepared, in
the interest of science and our social life, to welcome the expo
nents of this theory. But why? Can much be done for our social
life by numskulls? Can science gain much from undigested erudi
tion and a total incapacity for logical thinking? It seems to tis
that fear of excessive virulence is leading Russkaya Mysl too far
and compelling it to say things that m ight induce the reader to
suspect it itself of being incapable of digesting something, and
of a certain incapacity for logical thinking.
Mr. P. Struve never resorts to virulence (to say nothing of ex
cessive virulence), and if Mr. Beltov does, it is only to the kind
of which Pushkin would probably have said that it refers only to
authors and is therefore quite permissible. The Russkaya Mysl
reviewer m aintains that the works of the writers Mr. Beltov de
rides are worthy of respect. If Mr. Beltov shared this opinion, it.
would of course be wrong of him to deride them. But what if he
is convinced of the contrary? W hat if the works of these gen
tlemen seem to him tedious and ponderous, and quite vacuous,
and even pernicious in our day, when social life has become so
complicated and demands a new mental effort on the part of
those who are not in the habit, lo use Gogols expression, of
picking their noses" as they look 011 the world. To the Russkaya
Mysl reviewer these writers may probably seein regular torches
of light, beacons of salvation. B ut what if Mr. Beltov considers
them extinguishers and mind-druggers? The reviewer w ill say
that Mr. Beltov is mistaken. That is his right; but he has to prove
his opinion, and not content himself with sim ply condemn
ing excessive virulence . W hat is the reviewers opinion
of
Grech and Bulgarin? We are confident that if he were to
express it, a certain section of our press would consider il
excessively virulent. W ould that mean that tho Russkaya Mysl
reviewer is not entitled to say frankly what lie thinks of the l it
erary activities of Grech and Bulgarin? We do not of course brack
et the people with whom Messrs. P. Struve and N. Beltov are
disputing in the same category as Grech and Bulgarin. But we
would ask the Russkaya Mysl reviewer why literary decency per
mits one to speak virulently of Grech and Bulgarin, but forbids
ne to do so of Messrs. M ikhailovsky and Kareyev? The reviewer
evidently thinks that there is no beast stronger than the cat,494
flnd that, the cat, therefore, in distinction to other beasts, deserves
particularly respectful treatment. B ut, after all, one has the
right to doubt lhat. We, for instance, think that the subjective
ct is not only a beast that is not very strong, but even one that
710
G. P LEK H A N O V
has quite considerably degenerated, and is therefore not descrv

ing of any particular respect. We are prepared to argue with
the reviewer if he does not agree w ith us, but before entering i (,t
argument we would request him to ponder well on the difference
which undoubtedly exists between virulence of judgement and
rudeness of literary expression. Messrs. Struve and Beltov have
expressed judgements which to very many may seem virulent
Rut has either of them ever resorted, in defence of his opinions to
such coarse abuse as that which has been resorted to time and
again in his literary skirmishes by Mr. M ikhailovsky, that veri
table Miles Glorio-sus (Glorious W arrior.Ed.) of our progres
sive literature? .Neither of them has done so, and the Russkaya
Mysl reviewer would himself give them credit for this if he were
to reflect on the difference we have indicated between virulence
of judgement and coarseness of expression.
Incidentally, this Russkaya Mysl reviewer says: Mr. Beltov
unceremoniously, to say the least, scatters accusations to the
effect that such and such a writer talks of Marx w ithout having
read his works, condemns the Hegelian philosophy without hav
ing acquainted himself w ith it personally, etc. It would be well,
of course, if he did not at the same time commit blunders him
self, especially on most essential points. Yet precisely about He
gel Mr. Beltov talks the wildest nonsense: If modern natural
science,' we read on p. 86 of the book in question (p. 551 of this
e d itio n . Ed.), confirms at every step the idea expressed with
such genius by Hegel, that quantity passes into quality, can wr
say that it has nothing in common with Hegelianism? But the
misfortune is, Mr. Beltov, that Hegel did not affirm this and ar
gued the very opposite: w ith him , quality passes into quantity .
If we were to say what wo thought of the reviewers notion of
Hegels philosophy, our judgement would probably seem to him
excessively virulent . But the blame would not be ours. We can
assure the reviewer that very virulent judgements of his philo
sophical knowledge were passed by all who read his review and
have any acquaintance at all w ith the history of philosophy.
One cannot, of course, insist that every reviewer must have
thorough philosophical education, but one can insist that he does
not take the liberty of arguing about matters of which he has no
knowledge. Otherwise, very virulent things w ill be said of him
by people who are acquainted w ith the subject.
In Part I of his Encyclopaedia, in an addendum to 108, on
Measure, Hegel says: To the extent that q ua lity and quantity
are still differentiated and are not altogether identical, these two
definitions are to some degree independent of each other, so that,
on the one hand, the quan tity may change w ithout the q u ality
of the object changing, but, on the other, its increase or decrease.
A FEW W O R D S TO OUR OPPONENTS
711
which the object is at first indifferent, has a lim it beyond which

the quality changes. Thus, for example, alterations in the tempe
rature of water at first do not affect its liquid state, but if the
temperature is further increased or decreased, there comes a point
when this state of cohesion undergoes a qualitative change and
the water is transformed into steam or into ice. It seems at first
thni the quantitative change has no effect whatever ou the essen
tial nature of the object, but there is something else behind it,
and this apparently simple change of quantity has the effect of
changing the q u a lity .485
The misfortune is, Mr. Beltov, that Hegel did not affirm this
and argued the very opposite! Do you still think that this is
the misfortune, Mr. Reviewer?* Or perhaps you have now changed
your opinion on this matter? And if you have, what is really the
misfortune? We could tell you if we were not afraid that you
would accuse us of excessive virulence.
We repeat that one cannot insist; that every reviewer must be
acquainted w ith the history of philosophy. The misfortune of the
Husskaya M ysl reviewer is therefore not as great as m ight appear
at first glance. But the misfortune is that this misfortune is not
the reviewers last. There is a second which is the m ain and worse
than the first: he did not take the trouble to read the book he was
reviewing.
On pp. 75-76 of his book (p. 542 of this e d itio n . Ed.) Mr. Bel
tov gives a rather long excerpt from Hegels Greater Logic (W'/ssenschaft der Logik) (The Science of Logic. Ed.). Here is the be
ginning of the excerpt: Changes in being consist not only in the
fact that one quantity passes into another quantity, but also
that quality passes into qu an tity , and vice versa, etc. (p. 75).
If the reviewer had at least read this excerpt he would not have
fallen into misfortune, because then he would not have affirmed
that Hegel did not affirm this and argued the very opposite .
Wo know how the m ajority of reviews are written in Russia
and not only Russia, unfortunately. The reviewer runs through
the book, rapidly scanning, say, every tenth or twentieth page
and marking the passages which seem to him most characteristic.
He then writes out these passages and accompanies them w ith
expressions of censure or approval: lie is perplexed, he very
much regrets, or he heartily welcomes and, hey presto! the
review is ready. One can imagine how much nonsense is printed
as a result, especially if (as not infrequently happens) the reviewer
*
The reviewer continues to
Russkaya Mysl, and advises those
adhere to his opinion in the third issue of

who do not agree with him to consult
at least the Russian translation of t'bcnveg-Heinzes History of Modern
Philosophy. But why should not the reviewer consult at least Hegel him -
712
G. P LEK H A N O V
has no knowledge whatever of the subject discussed in the b

he is examining!
1
J0*
It would not enter our heads to recommend reviewers t0 rthemsolves of this bad habit completely: only the grave can cu
the hunchback. A ll the same, they ought at least to take tln^*
business a little more seriously when as in the dispute on
sias economic development, for example the vital interests <f
our country are concerned. Do they really propose to go on mis.
leading the reading public on this subject, too, w ith their frivo
lous reviews? After a ll as Mr. M ikhailovsky rightly says one
must know when to slop.
Mr. M ikhailovsky is likewise displeased w ith Mr. Beltovs
polemical methods. Mr. Beltov, he says, is a man of talent
and is not devoid of w it, but w ith him unfortunately it ufton
passes into unpleasant buffoonery.496 W hy buffoonery? And to
whom, indeed, is Mr. B eltovs alleged buffoonery unpleasant?
When, in the 60s, Sovremennik scoffed at Pogodin, sav, it
probably seemed to Pogodin that the journal w asguilty ofun pleas
ant buffoonery. And it seemed so not only to Pogodin alone,
but to a ll who were accustomed to respect the Moscow h isto rian.
Was there any lack of attacks in t hose days on the knights of the
whistle497? Was there any lack of peopie who were outraged by
the schoolboyish pranks of tho whistlers? W ell, in our opinion,
the b rilliant wit of the whistlers never passed into unpleasant
buffoonery; and if the people they scoffed at thought otherwise, it
was only because of that human weakness which led Amos Fyodo
rovich Lyapkin-Tyapkin498 to consider far too long" the letter in
which he was described as very much of a boor.
So th a ts it! You mean to suggest that Mr. Beltov possesses
the w it of Dobrolyubov and his fellow-contrilmtors to The Whis
tle'} W ell, that's the lim it! w ill exclaim those who find
Mr. Beltovs polemical methods not nice".
But wait a moment, sirs! We are not comparing Mr. Beltov with
the whistlers of the 60s; we are only saying that it is mt for
Mr. M ikhailovsky to judge whether, and where exactly, Mr. Bol
tovs wit passes into unpleasant, buffoonery. W ho can be a judge
in his own case?
But Mr. M ikhailovsky not only accuses Mr. Beltov of unpleas
ant buffoonery. He levels a very serious charge against him.
To make it easier for the reader to understand what it is all about,
wo shall allow Mr. M ikhailovsky to formulate his charge in his
own words:
In one of my articles in Russkaya M ysl I recalled niv ac
quaintance w ith tho late N. I. Sieber and in cid e ntally said lhat
when discussing the future of capitalism that worthy savant
used all possible arguments, but at the least danger hid behind
713
l)u> authority of tho im m utable and unquestionable tripartite

dialectical development. C iting these words of mine, Mr. Beltov
writes: We had more than once to converse w ith the deceased, and
never did we hear from him references to dialectical development;
he himself said more than once that he was quite ignorant of the
significance of Hegel in the development of modern economics.
Of course, everything can be blamed on the dead, and therefore
Mr. M ikhailovskys evidence is irrefutable! I would put it
differently: everything cannot always be blamed on the dead,
and Mr. Beltovs evidence is fu lly refutable....
In 1879 an article of Siebers was printed in the magazine
Slovo, entitled: The A pplication of Dialectics to Science .499
This (unfinished) article was a paraphrase, even almost entirely
a translation, of Engels Herrn Diihrings Umwalzung der Wissenscliaft.* W ell, to remain, after having translated this book, quite
ignorant of the significance of Hegel in the development of modern
economics' would have been fairly difficult not only for Sieber
but even for Potok-Bogatyr in the princesss polemical description
quoted above. This, I thin k , must be clear to Mr. Beltov himself.
In any case, I shall quote a few words from Siebers brief fore
word: Engels book deserves particular attention both because
of the consistency and aptness of the philosophical and socio
economic concepts it expounds, and because, in order lo explain
the practical application of the method of dialectical contradic
tions, it gives several new illustrations and factual examples
which in no little degree facilitate a close acquaintance w ith this
so strongly praised and at the same time so strongly deprecated
method of investigating the truth. One m ight probably say that
this is the first time in the existence of what is called dialectics
that it is presented to the eyes of the reader in so realistic a lig h t.
Hence Sieber was acquainted with the significance of Hegel in
the development of modern economics; he was greatly interested
in Mhe method of dialectical contradictions . Such is the truth,
documentarily certified, and it fully decides the piquant question
of who is lying for two. **
The truth, especially when documentarily certified, is an excel
lent. thing! Also in the interest of truth we shall can y on just a
little further the quotation given by Mr. M ikhailovsky from Sie
ger's article. The A pplication of Dialectics to Science".
Right after the words that conclude the passage Mr. M ikhai
lovsky quoted, Sieber makes the following remark: However, we
*r nur part shall refrain from passing judgement as to the worth
f this method in application to the various branches of science,
* I Herr Eugen D uhring's Revolution In Science (Anti-Duhring).]
Russkoye Bogatstvo, January 1895, Part I I, pp. 140-41.
714
G. PLEK H A N O V
and also as to whether it represents or does not represeut to the

extent that act ual significance may be attached to i t a mere vari
ation or even prototype of the method of tho theory of evolution
or universal development. It is precisely in this latter sense that
the author regards it; or, at least, he endeavours to indicate a
confirmation of it w ith the help of the truths obtained by the
theory of evolution and it must be confessed lhat in a certain
respect quite a considerable resemblance is here revealed."
We thus see that the late Russian economist, even after having
translated Engels Herr Eugen Diihring's Revolution in Science,
still remained in ignorance of the significance of Hegel in the
development of modern economics, and even, generally, whether
dialectics could be suitably applied to tho various branches of
science. A t all events, he was unw illing to pass judgement on it.
And so we ask: is it likely that this selfsame Sieber, who did not
venture to judge of the s uitability of dialectics generally, yet in
his disputes w ith Mr. M ikhailovsky at the least danger hid be
hind the authority of the im m utable and unquestionable dialec
tical development? W hy was it only 111 these cases that Sieber
changed his usually irresolute opinion of dialectics? W asit because
he stood in too great a danger of being demolished by his
terrible opponent? Scarcely! Sieber, w ith his very weighty fund
of knowledge, was the last person to whom such an opponent
could have been dangerous.
Yes, indeed, an excellent thing is truth documentarily certi
fied! Mr. M ikhailovsky is absolutely right when he says that it
fully decides the piquant question of who is lying for two!
Rut if the Russian soul , having incarnated itself in the person
of a certain in d iv id u a l, undoubtedly resorts to distorting tho
truth, it is not content w ith distorting it for two only once: for
the late Sieber alone it distorts it twice: once when it asserts that
Sieber hid behind tho authority of the triad, and again, when, with
astonishing presumption, it cites the very statement that prove;!
up to the h ilt that Mr. Beltov is right.
Fie, fie, Mr. Mikhailovsky!
It would be difficult to remain in ignorance of the significance
of Hegel in the development of modern economics after having
translated Engels Duhring's Revolution." Mr. Mikhailovsky
exclaims. Is it really so difficult? Not at all, in our opinion. It
would really have been difficult for Sieber, having translated the
said book, to remain in ignorance of Engels' (and, of courseMarxs) opinion of the significance of Hegel in the development of
the said science. Of that opinion, Sieber was not ignorant, as
self-evident and as follows from his foreword. But Sieber rote
not be content w ith the opinion of others. As a serious scientist " W
does not rely on the opinion of others but is accustomed to studj
FEW
W ORDS
TO
OUR
OPPONENTS
715
ing a subject first-hand, he, though he knew Engels opinion of

Hegel, did not consider himself for all thal entit led to say: I am
acquainted w ith ilegel and his role in the history of development
0f scientific concepts. This modesty of a scientist may perhaps he
incomprehensible to Mr. M ikhailovsky; he himself tells us thal he
docs not claim lo be acquainted with Ilegels philosophy, yet
he has the presumption to discuss it very freely. B u l quod licet
liovi, non licet Jovi. Having all his life been nothing but a smart,
journalist, Mr. M ikhailovsky possesses the presumption natural
to members of this calling. But he has forgotten the difference
between him and men of science. Thanks lo this forgetfulness,
he ventured lo say things lhat make it quite clear thal the soul
is certainly lying for two.
Fie, fie. Mr. Mikhailovsky!
Bul. is it only for two thal the worthy soul is distorting the
truth? The reader w ill perhaps remember the incident of Mr. M i
khailovskys omission of the moment of flowering. The omis
sion of this flowering is of vast significance; it shows that, he
has distorted the truth also for Engels. W hy has not Mr. M i
khailovsky said a single word about this instructive episode?
Fie, fie, Mr. Mikhailovsky!
But do you know what? Perhaps the Russian soul is not
distorting the truth; perhaps, poor thing, it is telling the sheerest
truth. Its veracity w ill be above all suspicion if we only assume
that Sieber was just playing a joke on the young writer, was try
ing lo frighten him w ilh the tria d . Indeed, that looks like the
truth: Mr. M ikhailovsky assures us that Sieber was fam iliar with
the dialectical method; being fam iliar w ith this method, Sieber
must have known very well that the celebrated triad never did
play Ihe role of an argument w ith Hegel, On the other hand,
Mr. Mikhailovsky, not being fam iliar w ith Hegel, m ight in con
versation with Sieber have expressed the thought which later he
expressed time and againthat the whole argumentation of Hegel
and the Hegelians consisted in invoking the triad. This must have
been amusing to Sieber, so he began calling in the triad to tease
the excitable but ill-informed young man. Of course, if Sieber
had foreseen into what a deplorable position his interlocutor
would in time land as a result of his joke, he certainly would have
refrained from it. But this he could not foresee, and so he al
lowed himself to joke at Mr. M ikhailovskys expense. The latters
veracity is beyond all doubt if our assumption is correct. Let
1'' r- Mikhailovsky dig down into his memory: perhaps he w ill
recall some circumstance which shows that our assumption is not
altogether unfounded. We, for our part, would be heartily glad
J* hear of some such circumstance that would save the honour of
he Russian soul. Mr. Beltov would be glad too, of course.
71(>
G. PLEK H A N O V
Mr. Mikhailovsky is a very amusing fellow. He is much a n n o v e l

with Mr. Beltov for having said that in the discoveries of on
subjective sociologist the Russian m ind and Russian soul repeats
old stuff and lies for two. Mr. M ikhailovsky believes that, w hilii
Mr. Beltov is not responsible for the substance of the q u o ta tio n
he may nevertheless bo held responsible for choosing it. Onlv
tho rudeness of our polemical manners compels our worthy sociol
ogist to adm it that to level this rebuke at Mr. Beltov w o uld he
too much of a subtlety. But where did Mr. Boltov borrow this
quotation? He borrowed it from Pushkin. Eugene Onegin was
of the opinion that in all our journalism the Russian mind ami
Russian soul repeats old stuff and lies for two. Can Pushkin bp
held responsible for his heros virulent opinion? T ill now, as we
know, nobody has ever thought although it is very likely-_
that Onegin was expressing the opinion of the great poet himself.
But now Mr. M ikhailovsky would like to hold Mr. Beltov respon
sible for not finding anything in his, Mr. M ikhailovskys, writings
save a repetition of old stuff and lying for two. W hy so? Why
must this quotation not be applied to the works of our sociol
ogist? Probably because these works, in the eyes of this sociolog
ist, deserve far more respectful treatment. But, in Mr. Mikhai
lovskys own words, this is debatable.
The fact is, says Mr. Mikhailovsky, that in this passage
Mr. Beltov has not convicted me of any lies; he just blethered,
to make it sound hotter, and used the quotation as a fig leal"
(p. 140). W hy blethered , and not expressed his firm conviction?
W hat is tho meaning of the sentence: Mr. Mikhailovsky in his
articles repeats old stuff and lies for two? It means that Mr. Mi
khailovsky is only pronouncing old opinions that have long been
refuted in the West, and in doing so, adds to the errors of Western
ers his own, home-grown errors. Is it really absolutely necessary to
use a fig leaf when expressing such an opinion of Mr. Mikhailov
skys literary activities? Mr. M ikhailovsky is convinced that such
an opinion can only be blether, and not the fruit of a serious
and thoughtful evaluation. B u t again to use his own words
this is debatable.
The writer of these lines declares quite calmly and deliberate
ly, and without feeling the need for any fig leaf, that in h is con
viction a not very high opinion of M r. Mikhailovsky's works *
the beginning of a ll wisdom.
But if, when speaking of the Russian soul, Mr. Beltov did
not convict Mr. M ikhailovsky of any lie, why did our sociolog
ist pick precisely on this quotation to start the lu ckless coiiflict over Sieber? Probably in order to make it. sound hotter In reality, there is nothing hot at all about methods like the^-<
but there are people to whom they seem very hot indeed. Ii* oflt
717
of G. I- Uspenskys sketches an officials wife is quarrelling with

a janitor. The janitor happens to use the word podlye (near.
Ed-)- W hat, cries the officials wife, I m podlaya (vile. Ed.),
am 1? I N show you! I have a son serving in Poland, etc., etc.
L ik e
the officials wife, Mr. M ikhailovsky pounces upon an in di
v i d u a l word, and heatedly cries: I m lying for two, am I? You
dare to doubt my veracity? W ell, now I ll convict you of lying
for many. Just look what you said about Siober! VVe look at
what Mr. Beltov said about Sieber, and find that he spoke the
honest truth. Die Moral von der Geschichle (the moral of the
story.Ed.) is that excessive heat can lead to no good either for
officials wives or for Mr. Mikhailovsky.
Mr. Beltov undertook to prove that the final triumph of mate
rialist monism was established by the so-called theory of econom
ic materialism in history, which theory is held to stand in the
closest connection with general philosophical materialism .
With this end in view, Mr. Beltov made an excursion into the
history of philosophy. How desultory and incomplete this excur
sion is may be judged even from the titles of the chapters devoted
to it: French Materialism of the Eighteenth Century , French
Historians of the Restoration , Utopians , Idealist German Phi
losophy , Modern Materialism (p. 146). Again Mr. Mikhailovsky
gets heated without any need, and again his heatedness leads him
to no good. If Mr. Beltov had been w riting even a brief sketch of
the history o/ philosophy, an excursion in which he passed from
French materialism of the eighteenth century to the French histo
rians of the Restoration, from these historians to the Utopians,
from the Utopians to the German idealists, etc., would indeed be
desultory and incomprehensible. But the whole point is that it
was not a history of philosophy that Mr. Beltov was writing.
On the very first page of his book he said that he intended to give
a brief sketch of the theory that is wrongly called economic mate
rialism. He found some faint rudiments of this theory among the
French materialists and showed that these rudiments were consid
erably developed by the French historical specialists of the
Restoration; then he turned to men who were not historians by
profession, but who nevertheless had to give much thought to car
dinal problems of m ans historical development, thal is, the
Utopians and the German philosophers. He did not by a long way
enumerate all the eighteenth-century materialists, Restoration
historians, Utopians, or dialectical idealists. But he mentioned
the chief of them, those who had contributed more than others to
'he question that interested him . He showed that all these richly
'ndowed and highly informed men got themselves entangled in
contradictions from which the only logical way out was Marx's
neory of history. In a word, il prenait son bien ou il le trouvait.
718
G. PLEK HA N O V
(lie took his goods wherever he found them . Ed.) What, obi
tion can bo raised to this method? And why doesnt Mr \v~
khailovsky like it?
'
If Mr. M ikhailovsky has not only read Engels Ludwig Feuer
bach and Diihring's Revolution in Science, but alsowhich is more
im portantunderstood them, he knows for himself what im
portance the views of the French materialists of the last centurv
the French historians of the Restoration, the Utopians and the
dialectical idealists had in tho development of the ideas of Mur*
and Engels. Mr. Beltov underscored this importance by givintr
a brief description of what in this respect was most essential in
the views of the first, the second, the third, and the fourllj.
Mr. M ikhailovsky contemptuously shrugs his shoulders at this
description; he does not like Mr. Beltovs plan. To which wh
rejoin thal every plan is a good plan if it helps its author to at
tain his end. And lhat Mr. Beltovs end was attained, is nut, us
far as we know, denied even by his opponents.
Mr. M ikhailovsky continues:
Mr. Beltov speaks both of the French historians and the French
Utopians , and measures both by the extent of their understand
ing or non-understanding of economics as the foundation of the
social edifice. But strangely enough, he makes no mention what
ever of Louis Blanc, although the introduction to the flistoire de
dix aw.s500 [History of Ten Years] is in itself enough to give him a
place of honour in the ranks of the first teachers of so-called eco
nomic materialism. In it, of course, there is much with which
Mr. Beltov cannot agree, but in it there is the struggle of classes,
and a description of their economic earmarks, and economics as
the hidden mainspring of politics, and much, generally, that
was later incorporated into the doctrine which Mr. Beltov defends
so ardently. I mention this omission because, firstly, it is astonish
ing in itself and hints at certain parallel aims which have nothing
in common with im partiality (p. 150).
Mr. Beltov spoke of Marxs predecessors. Louis Blanc was rather
his contemporary. To bo sure, the Histnire de dix arts appeared at a
time when Marxs historical views had not yet finally e v o l v e d .
But the book could not have had any decisive influence upon
them, if only for the reason that Louis Blancs views regarding
the inner springs of social development contained absolutely
nothing new compared, say, with the views of Augustin Thierry
or Guizot. It is quile true that in it there is theslruggle of classes,
and a description of their economic earmarks, and economic*
etc. But all this was already in Thierry and Guizot anil M ig u e l,
as Mr. Beltov irrefutably showed. Guizot, who viewed thing*
from the angle of the struggle of classes, sympathised with l*"1
struggle of the bourgeoisie against the aristocracy, but was very
719
hostile to the struggle of the working class against the bourgeoisie,

which had just begun in his time. Louis Blanc did sympathise
v ith this struggle.* [In this he differed from Guizot. But the
difference was not of an essential nature. It contributed nothing
new to Louis Blanc's view of economics as the hidden mainspring
0f politics.]**
Louis Blanc, like Guizot, would have said that political con
stitutions are rooted in the social being of a nation, and that social
being is determined in the final analysis by property relations;
hut where these property relations spring from was as little known
to Louis Blanc as to Guizot. That is why, despite his economics ,
Louis Blanc, like Guizot, was compelled lo revert to idealism.
That he was an idealist in his views of philosophy and history is
known to everyone, even if he has not attended a seminary.***
At the time the Histoire de dix ans appeared, the immediate
problem of social science was the problem, solved "later" by Marx,
where property relations spring from. On this question Louis Blanc
had nothing new to say. It is natural to assume that it is precisely
for this reason that Mr. Beltov said nothing about Louis Blanc.
But Mr. Mikhailovsky prefers to make insinuations about parallel
aims. Chacun a son gout! (Each has his own taste. Ed.)
In the opinion of Mr. Mikhailovsky, Mr. Beltovs excursion into
the history of philosophy is even weaker than m ight have been
thought from these (above-enumerated) chapter heads . W hy so?
Why, because Mr. Beltov said that Hegel called metaphysical
tho point of view of those thinkers irrespective of whether they
were idealists or materialists who, not being able to understand
the process of development of phenomena, w illy-nilly represent
them to themselves and others as petrified, disconnected, inca
pable of passing one into another. To this point of view he op
posed dialectics, which studies phenomena precisely in their devel
opment and, consequently, in their m utual connection. To this,
Mr. M ikhailovsky slyly observes: Mr. Beltov considers himself
an expert in tho philosophy of Hegel. Ishould be glad to learn
from him , as from any well-informed person,and for abeginning
1 would request Mr. Beltov to name the place in Hegel's work from
which he took this supposedly Hegelian definition of the meta
* But in his own peculiar manner, which accounted for the wretched
role he played in 1848. A veritable gulf lies between the class struggle as
it was later understood by Marx and tho class struggle as Louis Blanc
conceived it. Anyone who does not notice this gulf is like the sage who failed
to notice the elephant in the menagerie.401
** |>>ote to the 1905 edition.]
* As an idealist of the lowest grade (i.e., non-dialectical), Louis Blanc
Ilaturally had his "formula of progress", which, for all its theoretical insigf'ficartce, was at least no worse than Mr. Mikhailovskys formula of pro
gress.
720
G. P LEK H A N O V
physical point of view . I make bold to affirm that he w ill not jMt
able to name it. To Ilegel, metaphysics was the doctrine of tho
absolute essence of things, lying beyond the lim its of experience
and observation, of the innermost substratum of phenomena
Mr. Beltov borrowed his supposedly Hegelian definition not froVri
Hegel but from Engels (all in the same polemical work against
Duhring), who quite arbitrarily divided metaphysics from dialoclics by the earmark of im m o b ility or fluidity (p. 147).
We do not know what Mr. Beltov w ill say in reply to this. But
for a beginning", we shall take the liberty, w ithout awaiting
his explanation, to reply to the worthy subjectivist ourselves.
We turn to Part I of Hegels Encyclopaedia, and there, in the
addendum to 31 (p. 57 of Mr. V. Chizhovs Russian translation),
we read: The thin k ing of this metaphysics was not free and true
in the objective sense, as it did not leave it to the object to devel
op freely out of itself and itself find its definitions, but took it
as something ready-made.... This metaphysics is dogmatism, be
cause, in accordance w ith the nature of final definitions, it had to
assume that, of two antithetical assertions ... one was necessarily
true, and tho other necessarily false (32, p. 58, of the same
translation)/02
Ilegel is referring here to the old pre-ICantian metaphysics
which, lie observes, has beori torn out by tho roots, has vanished
from the ranks of science (ist so zu sagen, m it Stumpf und
Stiel ausgerotlet worden, aus der Reihe der Wissenschaften verschwunden!).* To this metaphysics Hegel opposed his dialectical
philosophy, which examines all phenomena in their development
and in their interconnection, not as ready-made and separated
from one another by a veritable gulf. O nly the whole is the truth."
ho says, but tho whole reveals itselEin all its fulnessonly through
its development (Das Wahre ist das Ganze. Das Ganze a her
ist nur das durch seine Entwickolung sich vollendende Woson).**
Mr. M ikhailovsky asserts that Ilegel fused metaphysics with dialec
tics. hut the person he heard this from did not explain the thing
to h im properly. W ith Hegel, the dialectical factor is supplem ented
by the speculative factor, owing to which his philosophy become!*
an idealist philosophy. As an idealist, Hegel did what a ll other ide
alists do: he attached particular philosophical im p o rta n c e to
such results (concepts) as the old metaphysics also prized. B'1*
with him , thanks to the dialectical factor , these concepts (tho
Absolute in the various aspecls of its development) appeared pre
cisely as results, and not as original data. He dissolved m etaphy
sics in logic, and for that reason he would have been very surprise
* Wissenschaft der Logik, Vorrede, S. 1.
** Die Ph&nomenologie des Geistes, Vorrede, S. X X I I I .
721
to hear that he, a speculative thinker, was being called a me

taphysician ohne Weiteres. He would have said that people who
palled him that lassen sich m it Thieren vergleichen, welche alle
Tone einer Musik m it durchgehort haben, an deren Sinn aher das
gine, die Hannonie dieser Tone, nicht gekoinrnen ist [m ight be
compared to beasts who have heard all the sounds of a given piece
of music, but have not grasped the whole, the harmony of these
sounds] (the expression he himself used to brand learned pedants).
We repeat, this speculative thinker, who despised the meta
physics of common sense (his own expression again), was an idealist,
and in this sense had his own metaphysics of the reason. B ut did
Mr. Beltov forget this or fail to mention it in his book? He neither
forgot it, nor did he fail to mention it. He quoted from Die heilige
Familie of Marx and Engelslong passages in which Hegels spec
ulative results are very m ordantly criticised. We believe lhat
these quoted passages bring out quite distinctly that dialectics
must riot be fused w ith what Mr. M ikhailovsky calls Hegels
metaphysics. Hence if Mr. Beltov forgot anything, it was only
that, in view of the astonishing indifference of our advanced
people to the history of philosophy, he should have taken care to
explain how sharp was the distinction made in Hegel's time be
tween metaphysics and speculative philosophy.* From all of which
it follows that Mr. M ikhailovsky makes bold to affirm what can
not possibly be affirmed.
Mr. Beltov says that Hegel called metaphysical even the point
of view of those materialists who were unable to examine phenom
ena in their interconnection. Is this true or not? W ell, take the
trouble to read this page of 27, Part I of Hegels Encyclopaedia:
We find the fullest application of this point of view to philos
ophy iri the old metaphysics, as expounded before Kant. How
ever. the days of this metaphysics have passed only in respect to
the history of philosophy; in itself, it continues to exist as al
ways. representing the common sense view of objects. W hat is
this common sense view of objects? It is the old metaphysical
view of objects, as opposed to the dialectical. All the materialist
philosophy of the eighteenlh century was essentially "common
sense" philosophy: it was able to examine phenomena solely from
he standpoint of final definitions. That Hegel was very well
aware of this weak side of French materialism, as of eighteenth<'-eritury French philosophy generally, anyone can convince him
*
Incidentally, if after all this Mr. Mikhailovsky should want to have
a* least a partial understanding of the historical significance of Hegels
metaphysics , we would recommend him to read a very popular book that
y ns quite well known in its time: Die Posaune des fiingsten Gerichls iiher
A ? rl' ên Atheislrn und A ntichristen \The Last of Judgement Over Hegel, the
Atheist and Antichrist]. A jolly little bool;.503
722
G. P LEK H A N O V
self who takes the trouble to read the pertinent passages in pI I I of his Vorlesungen iiber die Geschichte der Philosophie. (Leetu*'
on the History of Philosophy. Ed.) Hence he could not but re? *?
the view-point of the French materialists also as the old motanhv
ical view-point.* W ell then, is Mr. Beltov right or not? It js clnnr
we think, that he is absolutely right. YetM r. M ikhailovsky makes
bold to a ffirm ".... However, neither Mr. B eltov nor the writer
of these lines can do anything about that. Mr. M ikhailovskys
trouble is that, having entered into a controversy w ith the Run.
sian disciples of Marx, he made bold to discuss things about
which he knows absolutely nothing.
0 , man of much experience, thy boldness is thy undoing!
Anyone acquainted w ith philosophy w ill have had no dif
ficulty in observing th a t when Mr. Beltov expounds the philosoph
ical views of Hegel or Schelling he nearly alivays uses these
thinkers' own words. For example, his description of dialectical
thinking is almost a word-for-word translation of the note and
first addendum to 81, Part I of the Encyclopaedia; next, he
quotes almost word for word certain passages from the preface
to the Philosophie des Rechts and from the Philosophie der Ge
schichte. But this author, who so very accurately quotes men lik
Helvetius, E n fan tin , Oscar Peschel and so on, hardly ever indi
cates precisely which works of Schelling or Hegel, or which passages
in these works, he is referring to in his exposition. W hy, in this
instance, did he depart from his general rule? It seems to us
lh a t Mr. Beltov was resorting to a m ilitary stratagem. Ilis line
of thought, we believe, was as follows: our subjectivists proclaim
German idealist philosophy metaphysical, and rest content at.
that; they have not studied it, as the author of the comments on
M ill, for instance, did. W hen I refer to certain remarkable thoughts
of the German idealists, the subjectivist gentlemen, s e e i n g n o refer
ences to the works of these thinkers, w ill imagine that I i n v e n t e d
these thoughts myself or borrowed them from Engels, and will
cry: That is debatable , I make bold to affirm, etc. That's
where I ll bring their ignorance into the light of day; thats where
the fun w ill begin! If Mr. Beltov really did resort in his polemic to
this little m ilitary stratagem, it must be confessed thal it has
eminently succeeded: there has indeed been a lot of fun!
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] However, he said of materialism: Dennocb
muss man in d em Materialismus das begeisterungsvolle Streben anerkennen.
iiber den zweierlei Welten als gleich substantiell und wahr nnnehm enoen
Dualismiis hinauszugehen, diese Zerreissung des urspriinglich Einen aufziiheben. (Enzyklop&die, Teil I I I , S. 54.) | \Ve must nevertheless acknowledge
the inspired desire of materialism to transcend th e dualism which accepts
the two worlds as equally substantial and true, and to eliminate this divi
sion of the original unity. (Encyclopaedia, Part I I I , p. 54.)]
A FEW WOK OS TO OUR OPPONENTS
723
But lot us proceed. A ny philosophical system which, with

Mr. Beltov, declares that the rights of reason are as boundless
and unlim ited as its powers, and hence that it has disclosed the
absolute essence of things be it matter or s p iritis a metaphys
ical system. ... Whether it has, or has not, arrived at the idea
that its presumed essence of things develops, and, ifitlia s , wheth
er it ascribes to this development the dialectical or any other
way, is of course very im portant in defining its place in the histo
ry of philosophy, but does not alter its metaphysical character
(Russkoye Bogatslvo, January 1895. p. 148). As far as can be gathered
from these words, Mr. M ikhailovsky, shunning metaphysical
thinking, does not believe that the rights of reason are unlim ited.
It is to be hoped that this w ill earn him the praises of Prince
Meshchersky. Nor, apparently, does Mr. M ikhailovsky believe
that the powers of reason are unlim ited and unbounded either.
This may seem astonishing in a man who has so often assured his
readers that la raison finit toujours par avoir raison: w ith the
powers (and even the rights!) of reason lim ited, this assurance
seems hardly appropriate. But Mr. M ikhailovsky w ill say that he
is assured of the ultim ate trium ph of reason only as far as prac
tical affairs are concerned, but doubts its powers when it comes
to cognising the absolute essence of things (be it matter or spir
it'1). Excellent! But what is this absolute essence of things?
It is. is it not, what K ant called the thing in itself (Ding an sich)?
If so, then we categorically declare that we do know what the
thing in itself is, and that it is to Hegel that we owe the know
ledge. (H elp! the sober-minded philosophers w ill cry, but
we beg them not to get excited.)
The thing in itself ... is the object from which knowledge,
everything that can be definitely felt and thought about it. has
been abstracted. It is easy to see what remains a pure abstrac
tion, a sheer emptiness, and that carried beyond the bounds of
knowledge; the negation of all idea, feeling, definite thought, etc.
But it is just as easy to judge that this caput mortuum (worthless
residium. Ed.) is itself but a product of the thought which made
this pure abstraction, of the empty I which makes an object of
its abstract identity. The negative definition which holds this ab
stract identity as an object is likewise included among the K an
tian categories, and is just as well known. It is therefore surpris
ing to read so often that il is not known [what the thing in itself
is], when nothing is easier lo know. *
We therefore repeat that we know very well what the absolute
essence of things, or the thing in itself, is. It is a sheer abstrac
tion. And Mr. M ikhailovsky wants to use this sheer abstraction
* Hegel, Encyclopaedia, Part I, pp. 79-80, 44.
46*
724
0 . PLEK HA N O V
to frighten people who follow Hegel in proudly saying; Von de

Grosso und Macht seines Geistes kann der Mensch nicht srro<5
genug denken! (Man cannot think highly enough of the great^
ness and power of his m ind. E d.)* The song is an old onu
Mr. Mikhailovsky! Sie si rid zu spat gekommen! (You have oomo
too latel Ed.)
We are certain that the lines we have just written w ill seem
sheer sophistry to Mr. Mikhailovsky. But pardon me, he will
say, what in that case do you mean by the materialist interpre
tation of nature and history?" This is what we mean.
When Schelling said that magnetism is tho introduction of the
subjective into the objective, that was an idealist interpretation
of nature; but when magnetism is explained from the view-point
of modern physics, its phenomena are given a materialist inter
pretation. When Hegel, or even our Slavophiles, attributed certain
historical phenomena to the properties of the national spirit,
they were regarding these phenomena from an idealist view-point,
hut when Marx attributed, say, the events of 1848-50 in France to
the class struggle in French society, he was giving those events a
materialist interpretation. Is that clear? We should say so! So
clear, that it requires a considerable dose of obstinacy not to
understand this.
But theres something wrong here, Mr. Mikhailovsky con
ceives, his thoughts darting hither and thither (cest hien le mo
ment,!) Lange says.... B ut we shall take the liberty of inter
rupting Mr. Mikhailovsky. We know very well what Lange says,
but we can assure Mr. M ikhailovsky that his authority is very
much mistaken. In his History of Materialism, Lange forgot to
cite, for example, the following characteristic remark of one of
the most prominent of the French materialists: Nous ne connaissons que l ecorce des phenomiMies (we only know the skin of phe
nomena. Ed.). Other, and no less prominent, French materia
lists expressed themselves time and again in a sim ilar vein. So
you see, Mr. Mikhailovsky, the French materialists did nol yet
know that the thing in itself is only the caput mortuum of an
abstraction, and held precisely to the view-point which is now
called by many the vieiv-point of critical philosophy.
A ll this, it need not be said, will seem to Mr. Mikhailovsky
very novel ami absolutely incredible. But wo shall not tell him
for the present to which French materialists and to which of theii
works we are referring. Let him first make bold to affirm", and
then we shall have a word with him .
If Mr. Mikhailovsky is w illing to know how we understand the
relation between our sensations and external objects, we would
* Geschichte der Philosophie, Part I, p. G.
A FEW W O RDS TO O U R OPPONENTS
725
refer him to tho article of Mr. Sechenov, Objective Thought and

Reality , in the book A id to the Hungry. We presume that Mr. Bol
tov and all olher disciples of Marx, Russian and non-Russian,
will fully agree w ith our celebrated physiologist. And this is
what Mr. Sechenov says: Whatever the external objects may be
in themselves, independently of our consciousnesseven if it be
granted that our impressions of them are only conventional signs
the fact remains that the sim ilarity or difference of tho signs we
perceive corresponds w ith a real sim ilarity or difference. In
other words: the similarities or differences man finds in the objects
he perceives are real sim ilarities or differences. *
When Mr. M ikhailovsky refutes Mr. Sechenov, we shall agree
to recognise the lim itatio n not only of lhe powers, but also of the
rights of hum an reason.**
Mr. Beltov said thal in the second half of our century there tri
umphed in science with which meanwhile philosophy had been
completely fused m aterialistic monism. I am afraid ho is m istak
en, Mr. M ikhailovsky observes. In justification of his fear, he
appeals to Lange, in whose opinion die griindliclie Naturforschung durch ihre eignen Consequenzen uber den Materialismus
hinausfiihrt. (Sound natural research, by its own findings,
transcends m aterialism . Ed.) If Mr. Beltov is mistaken, the
materialistic monism has not triumphed in science. So, then,
scientists to this day explain nature by means of the introduction
of the subjective into the objective and the other subtleties of
idealist natural philosophy? We are afraid he would be mistaken
who assumed this, and the more afraid for the fact that a man of
very great renown in science, tho English naturalist Huxley, rea
sons as follows.
Surely no one who is cognisant of the facts of the case, nowa
days, doubts that the roots of psychology lie in the physiology of
the nervous system. W h al we call the operations of the tnind are
functions of the brain, and the materials of consciousness are
products of cerebral a ctiv ity.*** This, note, is said by a man who
is what is known in England as an agnostic. He believes that the
view ho expresses on the activity of the mind is fully compatible
with pure idealism. But we, who are fam iliar w ith the interpre
tations of natural phenomena consistent idealism is capable of
* A id to the Hungry, p. 207.
** [Note to the 1905 edition.] Here is n very good opportunity for our
opponents to convict us of contradicting ourselves: on the one hand we declare
nal the Kantian "thing in itself is a sheer abstraction, on the other we cite
with praise Mr. Sechenov who speaks of objects as they exist in themselves,
independently of our consciousness. Of course, people who understand will
see no contradiction, but are there many people of understanding among our
opponents?
*** Th. Huxley, Hume. Sa vie, so philosophie, p. 108.
726
C. PLEK H A N O V
giving, and who understand the reasons for the shamefaceduess r

the worthy Englishm an, repeat w ith Mr. Beltov that in the second
half of the nineteenth century materialistic monism triumphed in
science.
Mr. M ikhailovsky is probably acquainted w ith Sechenov's
psychological researches. This scientists views were at une tin,p
passionately controverted by Kavelin. We are afraid that Ui<?
now deceased Liberal was very much mistaken. But perhaps
Mr. M ikhailovsky agrees w ith Kavelin? Or perhaps he needs sonm
futher explanations on the point? W ell, we w ithhold them for tho
event that he again begins to affirm.
Mr. Beltov says that the point of view of human nature that
prevailed in social science before Marx led to an abuse of biolog
ical analogies which even up to the present day makes itself
strongly felt in Western sociological, and particularly in Russian
quasi-sociological, literature. This induces Mr. M ikhailovsky tn
accuse the author of the book on historical monism of outrageous
injustice and once again to suspect the integrity of his polemicnl
methods.
I appeal to the reader, even though he be quite ill-disposed to
wards me but has some acquaintance w ith my w ritingsif iu>t
w ith all, at least w ith one article, say, The Analogical Method
in Social Science or W hat Is Progress? It is not true that Rus
sian literature particularly abuses biological analogies: in Europe,
thanks to the good offices of Spencer, this stuff is far more ex
tensive. to say nothing of the times of the comical analogies of
Bluntschli and his fraternity. And if in our country the matter
has gone no further than the analogical exercises of the late Stronin ( History and M ethod , Politics as a Science), Mr. Lilienfeld
(The Social Science of the Future), and a few newspaper arti
cles, a little of the credit presumably belongs to me. For nobody
has spent as much effort combating biological analogies as I
have. And at one time 1 suffered no little for this at the hands of
the Spencerian lads'. I shall hope that the present storm will
also pass in lim e ... (pp. 145-46). This peroration bears such an
air of sincerity that indeed even a reader ill-disposed towards
Mr. Mikhailovsky might think: It does look as if Mr. Beltov
has gone too far in his polemical ardour. But this is not so, and
Mr. Mikhailovsky himself knows lhat it is not: if he pathetical
ly appeals to the reader, it is solely for the same reason that Plau
tus Tranion said to himself: Pergam turbare porro: ita haec
res postulat. (I shall go on being riotous, for the case demamls
it."Ed.)
W h at did Mr. Beltov really say? He said: If the explanation

of all historical social progress is to bo sought in the nature of
man, and if, as Saint-Simon himself justly remarks, society con
727
sists of individuals, then the nature of the individual has to prrvvide the key to the explanation of history. Tho nature of the in d i
v id u a l is the subject of physiology in the broad sense of the word,
i.e.. of a science which also covers psychological phenomena. That
is why physiology, in the eyes of Saint-Simon and his followers,
was the basis of sociology, which they called social physics. In
the Opinions philosophiques, litteraires et industrielles published
during Saint-Simon's lifetime and w ith his active participation,
there was printed an extremely interesting but unfortunately un
finished article of an anonymous doctor of medicine, entitled:
4On Physiology Applied to the Improvement of Social Institu
tions'. The author considered the science of society to be a compo
nent part, of general physiology', which, enriched by the observa
tions and experiments of special physiology of the in d iv id ua l,
devotes itself to considerations of a higher order . Individuals
are for it only organs of the social body , the functions of which
it studies, just as special physiology studies the functions of
individuals. General physiology studies (the author writes:
expresses) the laws of social existence, w ith which the written
laws should be accordingly co-ordinated. Later on the bourgeois
sociologists, as for example Spencer, made use of the doctrine
of the social organism to draw the most conservative conclusions.
But the doctor of medicine whom we quote was first of all a re
former. He studied the social body w ith the object of social recon
struction, since only social physiology and the hygiene closely bound
up with it provided the positive foundations on which it is pos
sible to build the system of social organisation required by lhe
present state of the civilised world.
From these words alone it is apparent that, in Mr. Beltovs
opinion, biological analogies may be abused not only in the sense
of Spencers bourgeois conservatism, but also in the sense of uto
pian plans of social reform. Here the likening of society to an
organism is absolutely of second-rate, if not of tenth-rate, signifi
cance: the im portant thing is not the likening of society to an
organism, hut the desire to found sociology on biological conclu
sions. Mr. Mikhailovsky has passionately objected against liken
ing society to an organism; in the struggle against this tendency
a little of the credit" does undoubtedly belong to him.. But that
is not of essential importance. The essentially im portant question
>s, did, or did not, Mr. M ikhailovsky believe that sociology could
be founded on biological conclusions? And on this point no doubt
s possible, as anyone can see by reading, for example, the article
The Darwinian Theory and Social Science. In this article
Mr. Mikhailovsky says, in part: Under the general heading
The Darwinian Theory and Social Science', we shall speak of
various questions dealt w ith, settled or resettled by the Darwin
728
G. PLEK HA N O V
ian theory or by one or another of its supporters, whose numb *

are swelling from day to day. Our chief task, however, will C^ S
sist in determining, from the standpoint of the Darwinian theor
the interrelation between physiological division of labour, i / '
division of labour between the organs of one indivisible whole
and economic division of labour, i.e., division of labour between
whole indivisible species, races, peoples or societies. In our view
this task resolves itself into a search for the basic laws of co-opt^
ration, i.e., the foundation of social science.* To search for the
basic laws of co-operation, i.e., the foundation of social science in
biology is to adopt the view-point of the French Saint-Simonists
of the 20s in other words, to repeat old stuff and lie for
two .
Here Mr. M ikhailovsky m ight exclaim: But, you know, the
Darwinian theory d idn t exist in the 20s. The reader, however,
w ill understand that the point here is not the Darwinian theory,
but the utopian tendency common to Mr. Mikhailovsky and the
Saint-Simonists to apply physiology to the improvement of social
institutions. In the article referred to Mr. M ikhailovsky entirely
agrees w ith Haeckel (Haeckel is absolutely right) when he says
that future statesmen, economists and historians w ill have to
turn their attention chiefly to comparative zoology, that is. to
the comparative morphology and physiology of animals, if
they want, to have a true conception of their special subject. Say
what you like, but if Haeckel is absolutely right, that is. if
sociologists (and even historians!) must turn their attention chief
ly to the morphology and physiology of animals, then there is
bound to be abuse of biological analogies in one direction or an
other. And is it not clear that Mr. M ikhailovskys view of sociology
is the old Saint-Simonist view?
W ell, that is all Mr. Beltov said, and it is in vain that Mr. M i
khailovsky tries, so to speak, to disavow responsibility for the
sociological ideas of Bukhartsev-Nozhin. In his own sociological
inquiries he has not retreated very far from the views of his lato
friend and teacher. Mr. M ikhailovsky has not grasped what
Marxs discovery consists in, and he has therefore remained an
incorrigible U topian. That is a very deplorable situation, but our
author might escape from it only by another effort of thought;
fearful appeals to the reader, even the quite ill-disposed reader,
w ill not help our poor sociologist at all.
Mr. Beltov said a c o u p l e o f w o r d s i n d e f e n c e of Mr. P. Struve.
This i n d u c e d Messrs. M ikhailovsky a n d N . o n to say that Bel
t o v had taken Mr. Struve u n d e r h i s protection. We h a v e said a
g r e a t d e a l i n d e f e n c e o f Mr. Beltov. W hat w ill Mr. M i k h a i l o v s k y
* N. K. Mikhailovsky, M'orAr*, Vol. V, p. 2.
______________ A FEW W O R D S TO OUR OPPONENTS____________ 72
and Mr- N . on say about us? They w ill probably consider

Mr. Beltov our vassal. Apologising in advance to Mr. Beltov for
anticipating his retort to Messrs. the subjectivists, we shall ask
the latter: does agreeing w ith an author necessarily mean taking
him under ones protection? Mr. M ikhailovsky is in agreement
with Mr. N . on on certain current questions of Russian life.
Must we understand their agreement to mean that Mr. M ikhailov
sky has taken Mr. N . on under his protection? Or, perhaps, lhat
Mr. N . on is the protector of Mr. Mikhailovsky? W hat would the
late Dobrolyubov have said on hearing this strange language of
our present-day progressive literature?
It seems to Mr. M ikhailovsky that Mr. Beltov has misrepresent
ed his doctrine of heroes and the crowd. Again we think that.
Mr. Beltov is quito right and that, in controverting him , Mr. M i
khailovsky is playing the role of Tranion. But before supporting
this opinion of ours, we think it necessary to say a few words
about Mr. N . oil's contributionW hat Does Economic Necessity
Really Mean? in the March issue of Russkoye Bogatstvo.
In this note Mr. N . on sets up two batteries against Mr. Bel
tov. We shall consider them one by one.
The target of the first battery is Mr. Beltovs statement that
"in order to reply to the question w ill Russia follow the path of
capitalist development, or not? one must turn to a study of the
actual position of the country, to an analysis of its present-day
internal life. On the basis of such an analysis, the Russian dis
ciples of Marx say: there are no data allowing one to hope that
Russia w ill soon leave the path of capitalist development".
Mr. N . on slyly repeats: There is no such analysis. Really not,
Mr. N . on? First, of all, let us agree on terminology. W hat do yon
call an analysis? Does an analysis provide new data for forming a
judgement on a subject, or does it operate w ith already existing
data, obtained in other ways? A l the risk of incurring the charge
of being metaphysical , we adhere to the old definition which
holds that, an analysis does not provide new data for forming a
judgement on a subject, but operates w ith ready-made data. From
this definition it. follows thal the Russian disciples of Marx, in
their analysis of Russian internal life, might not offer any inde
pendent observations of that life, but content themselves with
material collected, say, in Narodist literature. If from this mate
rial they drew a new conclusion, lhat in itself implies that they
subjected these data to a new analysis. lienee the question arises:
what data on the development of capitalism are to bo found in
Narodist, literature, and did the Russian disciples of Marx really
draw a new conclusion from these data? In order to answer this
Question we shall take, if only for one, Mr. Dementyevs book.
The Factory, What I t Gives to, and What I t Takes from, the Popu-
730
G. PLEK H A N O V
lotion. In th is book (pp. 241 et seq.) we read: Our industry, before

it assumed the form of capitalist factory production in which
we find it now, passed through all the same stages of development
as in the W est.... One of the strongest reasons w h y we are now
lagging behind the West was serfdom. Because of it, our industry
passed t hrough a far longer period of handicraft and home prod nr*,
tion. It was only in 1861 that capital acquired the possibility
of instituting that form of production to which, in the West, it
had passed nearly a century and a half earlier, and only from that
year on did there begin a more rapid decline of handicraft and
home production and their conversion into factory production....
But in the thirty years (since the abolition of serfdom) every th ing
has changed. H aving embarked on the same path of econom ic
development as Western Europe, our industry had inevitably,
fatally to assume and did assume the form into which it had
evolved in the West. The possession of land by the popular masses,
to which there is such a fondness to refer in proof of the im
possibility in our country of a special class of workers who are
free from everything a class that is an inevitable concomitant of
the modern form of industry undoubtedly has been, and still
is. a strong retarding factor, but by no means so strong as is usu
ally thought. The very frequent inadequacy of the land allotment
and the complete decline of agriculture, on the one hand, and
the deep concern of the government to develop the manufacturing
industries as an essential element in m aintaining the economic
equilibrium of the country, on the other, are conditions thal emi
nently tended, and still tend, to detract from the importance of
land possession. We have seen the result of this state of things:
the formation of a special class of factory workers, a class which
continues to bear the name of peasant , but which has practically
nothing in common w ith the peasant tillers, has retained to only
an insignificant degree its association w ith the land, and half of
which, already in the third generation, never quits tho factory
and has no property whatever in the countryside, save a legal und
practically almost unrealisable right to land.
The objective data given by Mr. Dementyev show very e l o q u e n t l y
that capitalism , w ith all its consequences, is developing fast in
Russia. These data Mr. Dementyev supplements with reflections
which would im ply that the further advance o f c a p i t a l i s t produc
tion can be halted, and that to do so, all that is necessary is 10
recall the maxim: gouvernercest prevoir (to govern is to fore
see. Ed.) (p. 246). The Russian disciples of Marx subject this
conclusion of Mr. Dementyevs to their own analysis, and find that
in this matter nothing can be halted, that M r. D e m e n t y e v i s m i s t a k
en, like the whole crowd of Narodniks who, in their researches,
communicate a whole mass of objective data quite similar to
A FEW W ORDS TO OUR OPPONENTS
731
those he, Mr. Dementyev, communicates.* Mr. N . on asks

where this analysis is to be found. W hat he apparently wants to
say is, when, and where, did such an analysis appear in the Rus
sian press. To this question we can give him at least two answers.
First, in the book of Mr. Struve which he finds so disagreeable
there is a competent discussion of the limits to which government
interference in the economic life of Russia is possible at this time.
This discussion is already, in part, the analysis which Mr. N .
on demands, and against this analysis Mr. N . on has nothing
competent to offer.
Second, does Mr. N . on remember the dispute which took
place in the 40s between the Slavophiles and the Westernists? In
this dispute, too, an analysis of internal Russian life played a
very important part, but in the press this analysis was applied
almost exclusively to purely literary themes. For this there were
historical reasons, which Mr. N . on must certainly take into
account if he does not want to be reputed a ridiculous pedanl.
W ill Mr. N . on say that these reasons have no bearing today on
the analysis of the Russian disciples?504
So far the disciples have not published any independent inves
tigations of Russian economic life. The explanation is that the
trend to which they belong is extremely new in Russia. It is the
A'arodist trend that has u n til now predominated in Russian liter
ature,
thanks to which investigators, when communicating
objective data testifying to the crumbling of the ancient foun
dations, have always drowned them in the waters of their sub
jective hopes. But it is precisely the abundance of the data com
municated by the Narodniks that has impelled the appearance of
a new view of Russian life. This new view w ill unquestionably
become the basis of new, independent observations. Even now we
can draw Mr. N . ons attention, for example, to the writings of
Mr. Kharizomenov, which strongly contradict the Narodist, cate
chism, as was duly sensed by Mr. V. V ., who tried often and vainly
*
Among the several hundred statistical and other inquiries made in
the last twenty years or thereabouts, says Mr. N .on, we have not met
#oy works whose conclusions agreed in any respect with the economic con
clusions of the Beltovs, Struves and Skvortsovs. The authors of the inqui
ries to which you, Mr. N .on, refer usually draw two kinds of conclusion:
?m' which accords with objective truth and says that capitalism is devclopng and the ancient foundations are crumbling; tho otner, a "subjective
conclusion, which holds that the development of capitalism might he halted,
'*> Pic,, etc. But no data are ever adduced in confirmation of this latter conclu
sion, so that it remains literally unsupported, notwithstanding the more or
lss abundant statistical material contained in the inquiries which it adorns.
N .ons Essays suffer from a similar weaknesswhat might be called
the anaemia of subjective conclusion. What analysis, indeed, coniirms
Mr. N .on's idea that our society can organise production already at this
age? There is no such analysis.
732
G. PLEK HA N O V
to refute the worthy investigator. The author of The South-Rus

sian Peasant. Economy is anything but a Marxist, but Mr. N .on
w ill scarcely say that Mr. Postnikovs views on the present, state
of the village commune, and peasant land tenure generally
in Novorossia agree with the customary views of our Narod
niks.
Then there is Mr. Borodin, the author of a remarkable investi
gation of the Urals Cossack organisation, who already stands four
square on the point of view which we uphold and which has
the misfortune of not being agreeable to Mr. N . on. Our Narodist publicists paid no attention to this investigation, not. because
it is devoid of intrinsic value, but solely because these publicists
are imbued w ith a specific subjective spirit.505 And there will
be more of them, Mr. N . on, as time goes on: the era of Marxist
research is only beginning in Russia.*
Mr. N . on also considers himself a Marxist. He is mistaken.
He is nothing hut an illicit offspring of the great thinker. His
world outlook is the fruit of an illegitim ate cohabitation of the
Marxian theory w ith Mr. V. V. From Miitterchen Mr. N .on
derived his terminology and several economic theorems which,
incidentally, he understands very abstractly and therefore incor
rectly. From Vaterchen he inherited a utopian attitude to social
reform, and it is with its help that he set up his second battery
against Mr. Beltov.
Mr. Beltov says that social relations, by the very logic of their
development, bring man to a realisation of the causes of his enslave
ment by economic necessity. H aving realised that the cause
of his enslavement lies in the anarchy of production, tho producer
(social m an) organises that production and thereby subjects it
to his w ill. Then terminates the kingdom of necessity, and there
begins the reign of freedom, which itself proves a necessity.' In
the opinion of Mr. N . 0 1 1 , all this is quite true. But to Mr. Bel
tovs true words he adds the following remark: Consequently, the
task is that society, instead of passively observing the manifesta
tion of the given law which retards the development of its pro
ductive forces, should, with the help of the existing material
economic conditions, find a means of bringing this law under it*
power, by surrounding its manifestation with such conditions
would not only not retard, but facilitate the development of the
*
We say nothing of Mr. P. Struves book, because Mr. N .t>n
it. disagreeable. But it is in vain that Mr. N . on so decidedly stamps tni
book as worthless. In controversy with Mr. N . on, Mr. P. Struve is <IU* ,
capable of taking care of himself. And as to Mr. N . ons own analysis .
when somebody undertakes to analyse it from the Marxian s L a n d p ( * o
nothing w ill remain of it but general platitudes. And it is lo be hoped m
this analysis w ill not be long in forthcoming.
733
p r o d u c t i v e forces of labour [forces of labour!]

of all society
taken as a whole.6011
W ithout himself noticing it, Mr. N .on has drawn from the
quite trne words of Mr. Beltov an extremely confused conclu
sion.
Mr. Beltov is talking of social man, of the sum-total of produc
ers, before whom there really does lie the task of vanquishing
econom ic necessity. But for the producers Mr. N . on substitutes
society , which, as a producing whole, cannot look on indifferent
ly. objectively , at the development of such social and economic
relations as condemn the m ajority of its members to progressive
impoverishment .
Society as a producing w hole.... M arxs analysis , to which
Mr. N .on allegedly adheres, did not stop at the idea of society
being a producing wfude. It divided society, in accordance w ith
its true nature, into separate classes, each of which has its own
economic interest and its own special task. W hy does not Mr.
N .ons "analysis do likewise? W hy, instead of speaking of
the task of the Russian producers, does Mr. N . on speak of the
task of society as a whole? This society, taken as a whole, is
usually, and not without reason, contrasted to the people, and
it then turns out to be, despite its wholeness , only a sm all part,
only an insignificant m inority of the Russian population. When
Mr. N . on assures us that this tiny m inority w ill organise pro
duction, we can only shrug our shoulders and say: it is not from
Marx Mr. N . on has taken this; he has inherited it from his
Vaterchen , from Mr. V. V.
According to Marx, organisation of production presumes a
conscious att itude to it on the part of the producers, whose econom
ic emancipation must therefore be the work of their own hands.
With Mr. N . on, organisation of production presumes a conscionsaltitudeto it on the part of society. If this is Marxism, then
surely Marx was never a Marxist. But let us assume that soci
ety does really act as the organiser of production. In what rela
tion does it then stand to the producers? It organises them.
Society is the hero] the producers are the crowd.
We ask Mr. M ikhailovsky, who affirms that Mr. Beltov has
misrepresented his doctrine of heroes and the crowd, does ho. like
Mr. N .on, think that society can organise production? If he
does, then he in fact holds to the view that society, the inle lligentsia . is the hero, the demiurge of our future historical devel
opment, while the m illions of producers are the crowd, out of
which the hero w ill mould whatever he considers necessary in
Accordance with his ideals. Now let the im partial reader say: was
Mr. Beltov right when he said that the subjective view regarded
the people as a crowd?
734
G. PLEK HA N O V
Mr. M ikhailovsky declares thal lie, too, and those who think
like him are not opposed to the development of Ihe self-conscious
ness of the producers. It only seems to me, he says, that fur
simple and clear a programme there was no need lo rise nhnvp
the clouds of the Hegelian philosophy and sink down to a hotch
potch of the subjective and objective. But the fact of the mailer
is, Mr. Mikhailovsky, that in the eyes of people of your type of
thought the self-consciousness of the producers cannot have ihe
same meaning as it has in the eyes of your opponents. From y(,lir
point of view production can be organised by society ; from the
point of view of your opponents it can be organised only by the
producers themselves. From your point of view society" acts,
and the producer assists. From the point of view of your opponent?
the producers do not assist, they just act. It stands to reason that
assistants need a smaller degree of consciousness than actors, for
it has been said long ago and very justly: There is one glory of
the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the
stars: for one star differelh from another star in glory. Your atti
tude to the producers is that of the French and German Utopians of
the 30s and 40s. Your opponents condemn any and every utopian
attitude to the producers. If you were better acquainted with t.hr*
history of economic literature, Mr. M ikhailovsky, you would
have known that in order to get rid of the utopian attitude to the
producers, it was indeed necessary to rise to the clouds of the Hogelian philosophy and then sink down to the prose of political
economy.
Mr. M ikhailovsky does not like the word producer: it smacks,
dont you see, of the stable.* W ell, all we can say is that he is
welcome to the best we have. The word producer", as far as we
know, was first used by Saint-Simon and the Saint-Simonists.
Since the existence of the journal Le Producteur, that is, since
1825, it has been used in Western Europe countless numbers of
times, and has never reminded anyone of the stables. Then the
Russian repentant nobleman began to speak of producers, and
the stables came to his mind at once. To what are we to a ttrib
ute this strange phenomenon? Evidently, to the memories ami
traditions of the repentant nobleman.
Mr. N . on, with an air of deep slyness, cites the following words
of Mr. Beltov: Of course one of them [the R u s s ia n disciple*
of Marx] may have greater and another less extensive econom
ic knowledge, but what matters here is no t the amount of k no w l
edge of individual persons, but the point of view itself. Mr. N .,,n
asks: W hat has become of all the demands to adhere to tin*
ground of reality, of the necessity for a detailed study of the
[Russian word proizvoditel (producer) also means stallion.]
735
course of economic development? (Demands of the necessity for

a detailed study that doesnt sound very lucid, Mr. N . on.)
Now it appears that a ll this is something secondary, that what,
niatters is not the amount of knowledge but the point of
view.
Mr. N . on, as we see, likes to say something funny every now
and again. B ut we would advise him , when he wants to make
people laugh, not to forget common sense. Otherwise the laugh
will not be on his side.
Mr. N . on has not understood Mr. Beltov. Let us try to res
cue him from his difficulty. In the same issue of Busskoye Bogatslvo
in which Mr. N . ons contribution appeared, we find in an article
by Mr. Mokievsky called W hat Is an Educated Man? (p. 33,
note) some lines that might be very instructive to Mr. N . on:
An Arab savant once said to his disciples: If anyone should tell
you that the laws of mathematics are erroneous and, in proof,
should transform a stick into a snake, do not regard such a proof
as convincing. This is a typical example. An educated man w ill
reject such proof, even if (unlike the savant) he is not acquainted
with the laws of mathematics. He w ill say that the transforma
tion of a stick into a snake is an extraordinary miracle, but it does
not follow from it that the laws of mathematics are erroneous.
On the other hand, it is not to be doubted that uneducated people
would at once lay all their convictions and beliefs at the feet of
the miracle-workers.
One of the disciples of the wise Arab may have had greater and
another less extensive mathematical knowledge, but neither of
them, probably, would have fallen at the feet of the miracleworker. Why? Because both had had a good schooling; because
what matters here is not the amount of knowledge, but Lhat point
of view from which the transformation of a stick into a snake can
not serve as a refutation of mathematical truths. Is that clear to
you, Mr. N . on? We hope so. for it is so very simple, quite ele
mentary in fact. W ell, then, if it is clear, you should now see
yourself that what Mr. Beltov says about the point of view, etc.,
does not do away w ith what he also says about the necessity of
adhering to the ground of reality.
But we are afraid you are not clear on the matter, after all.
Let us give another example. God knows, you havent much
economic knowledge, but you do have more than Mr. V. V. That,
however, does not prevent you from holding to the same point of
view. You are both Utopians. And when anyone undertakes to
describe your common views, he w ill leave aside the amount of
your respective knowledge, and w ill say: What, matters is these
Peoples point of view, which they have borrowed from the Uto
pians of the days of Old K in g Cole.
736
G. PLEK H A N O V
Now it should be quite clear to you, Mr. N . on, lhat you were
quite off the mark w'hen you im plied that Mr. Beltov had resort
ed to the subjective method, that you blundered egregiously
At a ll events, let us put the same thing in different words. How
ever much the Russian followers of Marx may differ in tho extent
of their knowledge, not one of them, if he remains true to him
self, w ill believe you, or Mr. V. V ., when you assert that "socie
ty "whatever that is w ill organise our production. Their point
of view w ill prevent them from laying their convictions at the
feet of social miracle-workers.*
Enough of this. But once we have touched upon the subjective
method, let us remark how contemptuously Mr. N . on treats it.
Jl follows from what he says that this method did not have the
slightest grain of science in it, but was only furnished with a
sort of cloak that lent it the mere tinge of a scientific exterior.
Excellent, Mr. N . on! B ut what w ill your protector, Mr. Mi
khailovsky, say of you?
Generally speaking, Mr. N . on deals very discourteously with
his subjectivist protectors. His article. Apologia of the Power
of Money as the Sign of the Times ,507 bears the epigraph: L ig
norance est moins eloignee de la verite que le prejuge. [Igno
rance is less far from the truth than prejudice.] The Truth is
undoubtedly Mr. N . on himself. He says as much: If anybody
should really follow the subjective method of investigation un
swervingly, one may be quite certain that he would arrive at
conclusions akin to, if not identical w ith, those we have arrived
at. (Russkoye Bogatstvo, March, p. 54). Prejudice is of course
Mr. Struve, against whom Truth directs the sting of its analy
sis. And who is Ignorance, which is nearer to Truth (i.e., Mr. N.
on) than Prejudice, i.e., Mr. Struve? Ignorance, evidently, is
Mr. N . ons present subjectivist allies. Excellent, Mr. N .on!
You have hit the weak spot of your allies to a nicety. But again,
what w ill Mr. Mikhailovsky say of you? He w ill surely recall
ihe moral of the well-known fable:
Though help in time of need we highly prize,
Not everyone knows how to give it ....608
B ut enough of argument! We think we have left none of our
opponents objections unanswered. And if we have by chance
lost sight of any of them, we shall certainly have plenty of occa
sion to return to the dispute. So we may lay down the pen. Bul
before parting w ith it, we should like to say another word or two
to our opponents.
*
[Note to the 1905 edition.] Let me refer again to the above-mention
statem ent of Feuerbach th at it is the p o int of view which distinguishes m
from the ape.
737
Now you, sirs, are always exerting yourselves to do away

with capitalism. But just see what comes of it: capitalism goes
sweetly on and does not even notice your exertions , while you,
with your ideals and your splendid intentions, keep marking
time in one spot. And to what purpose? Neither you benefit, nor
anyone else! W hat can be the reason? The reason is that you are
Utopians, you nourish utopian plans of social reform and fa il to
see those direct and urgent tasks which, excuse the expression,
lie under your very noses. Ponder w'ell on it. Then, perhaps, you
will say yourselves that we are right. However, on this subject we
shall talk to you on another occasion. Meanwhile Dominus vobiscum.
A7~ 0 I 329
NOTES
The titles and footnotes in square brackets have been inserted by those
who prepared Plekhanovs texts for the present five-volume edition. Square
brackets in the text contain phrases and passages om itted in certain previous
editions.
S O C IA L IS M
AND
THE
P O L IT IC A L
STRUGGLE
This work, in w hich Plekhanov gave the first M arxist criticism in Russia
of the ideology of the Narodniks, was called by Lenin the first profession de
1oi [profession of faith] of Russian socialism . (V. I. L enin, Collected IVor/cs,
Vol. 4, p. 287.) I t was the first work published by the E m ancipation of Labour
group.
Plekhanov planned and wrote the pam phlet in the summer of 1883, when
he broke w ith the Narodnaya V olya party.
The work was o rig in ally intended for the first issue of the journal Vestnik
Narodnoi Voli (Herald of Narodnaya Volya), but contemporary correspon
dence now kept in Plekhanov House, Leningrad, and letters published in
Duela i D ni ( Matters and Days) No. 2, 1921, show th at negotiations between
Plekhanov and the editors of Vestnik were unsuccessful.
Lavrov and T ikhom irov, the editors of Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, refused to
pub lish this essay, w hich describes the Narodnaya V olya trend as a most
unprincipled trend . (Cf. T ikhom irovs letter of August 3, 1883 to Lavrov,
"The E m ancipation of Labour group , Coll. I, 1924, p. 245.) The Emancipa
tio n of Labour group published this essay in October 1883 as a separate pam
phlet, the first p ub lication in the Library of Modern Socialism.
Lavrov published a review of Socialism and the Political Struggle ( Vestnik
Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section 2, 1884, pp. 64-67), expressing e x t r e m e disap
proval of the polem ic section. This review was set forth in detail in Pleknanovs letter to Lavrov, given as a preface to the pam phlet Our D ite rencet
(Cf. this volum e, pp . 107-11.)
_
Socialism and the Political Struggle was reprinted in 1905 in On iiw
Fronts, a collection of articles b y Plekhanov, and in the same year in
.*
ume I , the only one printed, of the Geneva edition of Plekhanovs Works, *
w hich new notes were given; in 1906 it was again printed as a separate pa
phlet. I t was translated in to Polish and B ulgarian in the nineties.
,
In this edition it is given according to a text w hich has been cncch
w ith the first edition and the collection On Two Fronts.
Zemlya
i Volya (Land and Freedom) a jou rn al of the revolutionary

Narodniks, published in Petersburg from November 1878 to April
NOTES
739
hy the Zem lya i V olya organisation. Five issues came out, the first
four edited by S. K ravehinsky and N . Morozov, Plekhanov heing
a member of the editorial board of the fifth issue.
p. 4 9
s Chorny Peredel (General Redistribution) a jo urn al published from the
beginning of 1880 to the end of 1881 by the revolutionary Narodnik
organisation of the same name. O rig in ally its editors were G. Plekhanov,
P, Axelrod, Y . Stephanovich and L . Deuisch. Its printshop in Petersburg
was seized when the first issue was heing printed, b u t that issuo and also
the second were published abroad. The rem aining issues (3-5) were put
out in M insk.
p. 4 9
Zhelyabov his biography was w ritten by L. T ikhom irov and appeared
anonym ously in London in 1882 under the title Andrei Ivanovich Zhelya
bov.
p. 50
4 Epigraph taken from the Manifesto of the Communist Party.
p. 51
5 An international socialist congress which took place at Chur, Switzerland,
at the beginning of October 1881. The Russian guest was P. Axelrod, p. 52
4
7
11
Plekhanov here alludes to an article b y L . T ikhom irov which appeared as

an editorial in Narodnaya Volya, No. 7, December 23, 1881. I t contained
a sharn criticism of the speech made by P. Axelrod, the Russian guest at
the Chur Congress.
p. 52
The first volum e of Capital was published in H am burg in 1867.
p. 55
K. Marx and F. Engels, Socialism: Utopian and Scientific. Cf.
Works in three volumes, V ol. 3, Moscow, 1973, p. 126.
Selected
p. 55
11 Vperyod group followers of P. L. Lavrov in the revolutionary N arodnik

movement. They got their name from the journal and the newspaper
Vperyod (Forward), published by Lavrov in Zurich and London from
1873 to 1877. O n ly five issues appeared. Lavrov corresponded w ith Marx
and Engels, and he and his followers tried to establish contact w ith the
European, particularly German Social-Democratic movement.
p. 56
10 Bakuninists followers of the anarchist N arodnik M. A. B akunin. They
11
regarded the peasants as born rebels and professed the adventurous

tactics of im m ediate revolts, for w hich they were dubbed the rebels".
B akunin was the leader of a secret anarchist organisation inside the
First Inte rnation al (1864-1872). He waged a fierce struggle against Marx
and was expelled from the Inte rnation al at The Hague Congress in 1872.
p. 56
La Voix du peuple (The Voice nf lhe People) Proudhons paper w hicli be
gan pub lication in Paris in 1849.
p. 56
12 Les confessions dun revolutionnaire (Confessions of a Revolutionary)

a book by Proudhon setting forth his world outlook and printed in 1849.
His petty-bourgeois anarchist views are more com pletely expounded in
another book m entioned later by Plekhanovidee ginSrale de la revolu
tion au X I X siicle (General Idea of the Revolution in the Nineteenth Century),

which was published in 1851.
p. 56
Ia The System of Economic Contradictions was written by Proudhon, p. 57

14 K. Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Moscow, 1954, p. 587.
p. 58
1-1
Tê polemic between Engels and P. N . Tkachov, one of the N arodnik

ideologists, took place in 1874-1875. In 1874 Tkachov published in
German his Opener Brief an Ilerrn Fr. Engels (Open Letter to M r. Fr. Engels),
Zurich, 1874. (Cf. P. N . Tkachov, Selected Works, Russ, ed.. V ol. 3,
15)33, pp. 88-98.) In reply to this letter Engels wrote his article Soziales
aus Russland in the newspaper Volksstaat, 1875, No. 36 and follow ing.
47*
NOTES
740
R epublishing his reply in 1894, Engels provided it w ith a nole in which

he said that T kachovs letter carried, in its form and content. Ihe "usual
B akuninist im p rin t . (Der Volksstaat, Nos. 44, 45, 1875.) Engels ridiculed
T kachovs conspiratorial illusions. One cannot im agine an easier or more
pleasant revolution, he wrote. A revolt has only to be sturted sim ulta
neously in three or four places and the revolutionary by instinct
practical necessity and the instinct of self-preservation' w ill do the
rest of themselves . One sim p ly cannot understand how, if it is so easy
the revolution has not already been carried out, the people emancipated
and Russia transformed into amodelsocialist country."
p, 5 9
16
N a b a t (The Tocsin) a. N arodnik jo u rn al published under tho editorship

of Tkachov from the end of 1875 to 1881, first in Geneva and then in
L ondon. It raised the question of setting up a m ilita n t organisation of
conspiratorial revolutionaries to seize power and socially reorganise
Russia.
P- 59
17
B lanquism expects th at m an k ind w ill be em ancipated from wage slavery,

not by the proletarian class struggle, but through a conspiracy hutched
by a sm all m in o ritv of intellectuals. (V. I. Lenin, Collected Works,
V ol. 10, p. 392.) '
p. 59
18
F. Schiller,
W ilhelm
p. Go
Tell.
See Note 9.
10
!> Cl
From 1879 to 1882 Plekhanov was a member of the N arodnik revolutiona

ry organisation Chorny Peredel, w hich denied the necessity of terror as
a means of po litical struggle,whereasNarodnaya V olya placed terror
action in the foreground.
P-
*i Zem lya i V olya sp lit into two organisations Narodnaya Volya and
Chorny Peredel nt the Voronezh Congress in 1879.
p. 62
The explosion in the W in ter Palace was effected on February 5, 1880,
by the famous revolutionary Stepan K h a ltu rin , an active member of tho
Northern U nion of Russian Workers, whom the Narodovoltsi drew into
terrorist ac tiv ity .
P The first ed itio n of the pam phlet had: the period of free trade in the
** This quotation is from the leading article in the first issue of Narodnaya
V olya , October 1, 1879, in which we read: Shall we take upon ourselvcr
the in itia tiv e of a cam paign against the Government and of a political
revolution, or shall we go on ignoring po litical a c tiv ity , wasting our
energy beating about the people like a fish on the ice?
! r,a
54
H ay m , Hegel un d seine Z eit, Berlin, 1857.
P-
** K
Marx and F. Engels, A Contribution to the Critique of Political Econp

m y. Preface. Cf. Selected Works, V ol. 1, Moscow, 1973, pp. 503-04. P-
True socialism one of the trends of petty-bourgeois socialism whirh

spread in Germ any in the m id dle of the forties of the 19th century. Mr
and Engels severely criticised the true socialists in The German Ide om V '
in Engels article True Socialists and in the Manifesto of the Commit*
P a rty. Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, V ol. 1, Moscow. ! '
pp. 130-32.
>
K . Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto of the C omm unist Party. Cf. S t M

Works, V ol. I, Moscow, 1973, p. 132.
"
29
A. I.
Herzen, M y
L ife and
Thoughts.
P'
'
741
NOTES
30
This expression was used by Marx and Engels in their Preface to the
Manifesto of the Communist P arty , first Russian edition, dated Jan u ary 21,
1882. Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, V ol. 1, Moscow, 1973,
p. 100.
P- 68
31 Plekhanovs translation of the Manifesto of the Communist Party was

published in Geneva in 1882 by the publishers of the Russian SocialRevolutionary Library . This was the first correct translation of the
Manifesto into Russian; before it there had been only B a k u n in s unsuc
cessful attem pt, printed in 1869 at the Kolokol prin tin g shop in Geneva.
p. 69
3= K . Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party. Cf. Selected
Works, V ol. I, Moscow, 1973, p. 133.
P- 70
33
l lekhanov here refers to a book by the Russian bourgeois economist I. Ivanvukov, Basic Propositions of the Theory of P olitical Economy from Adam
Sm ith to the Present D a y , Moscow, 1880, in w hich the author tried to prove
among other things that Marx was opposed to a revolution in Russia.
p. 70
34 The reference is to Proudhons book. See

35 F. Engels, Anti-Diihring, Moscow, 1969, p. 32.
36
Note 12.
p. 71
p. 72
The Anti-Corn Law League headed by R ichard Cobden fought in the

thirties of the 19th century for the a b o litio n of taxes on corn. I t expressed
the interests of capitalists who strove to lower wages and make labour
cheaper.
p. 74
Lujo Brentano a representative of the bourgeois apologetic school in
political economy, professed social peace in capitalist society. He
praised the E nglish trade unions as the bulw ark against revolutionary
infatuations. In the book referred to in the tex t Ueber das Verhaltniss
ron Arbeitslohn und Arbeitszeit zur Arbeitsleistung, Leipzig, 1876, he
m aintained that a rise in wages and a shortening of the w orking day
would be profitable not to the workers only bu t also to the capitalists,
since they would raise the pro ductivity of labour.
p. 75
The Democratic Federation (after 1884 the Social-Democratic Federation)
was founded in E ngland in 1881 and professed views com bining badly
assimilated Marxism w ith demands for bourgeois-democratic reforms.
The Manifesto m entioned by Plekhanov was a pam phlet w ritten for
tlie Federation by its founder. (H . M. H y n dm an , E ngland for A ll, London,
1881. Cf. L en in s article H yn dm an on M arx . V. I. L enin, On B rita in ,
Moscow, p. 135.)
p. 75
The Northern Union of Russian Workers was formed out of workers
study groups in Petersburg at the end of 1878. It had more than 200 m em
bers and existed u n til 1880. The U n io n s programme said th at
in its
tasks it w'as close to the Social-Democratic parties in the West and th at
its final aim was to carry out the socialist revolution and its im m ediate
task the po litical em ancipation of the people and their w inn in g of
p o litical rights.
This programme gave rise to no little alarm among the Russian Narod
niks. (Cf. G. V . Plekhanov, The Russian Worker in the Revolutionary
Movement, Works, Russ, ed., V ol. I l l , p. 184.)
p. 80
Zerno (Grain) a newspaper for workers, published illeg ally by the orga
nisation Chorny Peredel, 1880-1881. O n ly six issues appeared: No. 1,
October 25, 1880, in Geneva, Nos. 2-6 in Russia. The paper gave partic
ular attention to the spreading of N arodnik ideas am ong the urban
proletariat.
p. 80
742
NOTES
41 The members of the Northern Union of Russian Workers wrote a "I on

to the Editors which was published in No. 5. April 8, 1879, of
j
i Volya, in reply to the Zemlya i Volya organisation, proving that^thp"
demands would remain nothing more than demands u n til they
f
know. the Letter said.
,8'11
the autocracy. We also know',
said, ihnt.
lhat political freedn
can guarantee us and our organisation against the tyranny of the author
ties and give us the possibility to develop our outlook more correct/'
and achieve greater success in our propaganda.
p
12 K. Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party. Cf
Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 119.
p gQ
43 Plekhanov borrowed this statement from the book Brieje und sozialpolitische Aufsatze von D r. Rodbertus Jagetzow, published by Rud. Mevpr'
Berlin, 1882.
p_ gj
44 Plekhanov here refers to the studies of the English bourgeois economist
and historian Thorold Rogers, in particular to his book Six Centuries of
Work and Wages, Oxford, 1884, and to the works of the French journalist
and statesman, the Malthusianist Charles du Chatelet, author of Traite
de la charite dans ses rapports avec Vetat moral et le bien-etre material des
classes infirieures de la sociite ( Treatise on Charity in Its Relations with the
Moral State and the Material Welfare of the Lower Classes of Societv)
2nd ed., 1836.
p. gj
46 Cf. G. Plekhanov, M r. P . Struve in the Role of Critic of the Martian
Theory of Social Development. (Vol. II of this edition.)
p. 81
46 K . Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto ofUhe Communist Party. Cf. Selected
Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, pp. 117-18.
p, 83
47 Katheder Sozialistenrepresentatives of theliberal bourgeois
trend
which arose in the latter half of the 19th century and united a group of
German bourgeois professors who, from their university chairs, taught
reformist theories on the transformation of capitalism into socialism.
p. 84
48 F. Engels, Marx's Capital. Cf. K. Marx and F.Engels, Selected Works
Vol. 2, Moscow, 1973, pp. 151-52.
p. 85
40 K. Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party. Cf. Selected
p. 87
IForfcs, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 136.
p. 88
p. 88
62 Narodnoye Dyelo ( The People's Cause)a journal founded in Geneva by
the Russian Narodnik revolutionaries. W ith the exception of the first
issue, which was prepared by Bakunin, it was edited by N. I. Utin, for
mer member of Zemlya i Volya and secretary of the Russian section of
the First International. Narodnoye Dyelo actively collaborated with Marx
and Engels in defending their line of tactics in the In te r n a tio n a l and
exposing the Bakuninist anarchists. But in the main it adhered to Narod
nik standpoints, idealised the Russian village commune and failed to
understand the historical necessity of the dictatorship of the p ro le ta ria t
63 Plekhanov here means his book The Development of the Monist View
History, which he wrote under the pen-name of Beltov. See tins
volume.
P- 69
NOTES
743
m From The Little Humpbacked Ilorse by I . Ycrshov. Foreign Language?

Publishing House, .Moscow, 1957, p. 70,
p 92
85 The editorial of No. 2 of Narodnaya Volya, November 15, 1879, says of
ihe Constituent Assembly: "In this assembly 90 per cent of the deputies
are from the peasants, and if we assume that our Party is sufficiently
skilful in its work, from the Party. What decisions can such an assembly
take? It is highly probable that it would give us a complete revolution in
all our economic and state relationships....
p. 92
44 The question of the seizure of power by a revolutionary organisation is
dealt with in the leading article of No. 8-9 of Narodnaya Volya, February
5, 1882.
p. 92
17 The article Preparatory Work of the Party, which Plekhanov quotes
here and later, was a programmatic article published on pp. 122-34 of the
Kalendar Narodnoi Voli for 1883, Geneva.
p. 92
68 The programme of the Executive Committee of Narodnaya Volya was
published in No. 3 of the paper Narodnaya Volya. The proposition quoted
ny Plekhanov is in Section C, para 2 (p. 0).
p. 93
is The Letter of the Executive Committee of Narodnaya Volya to the Emperor
Alexander 111 was printed as a leaflet immediately after Alexander I I was
killed on March 10, 1881. A reprint was published in Kalendar Narodnoi
Voli for 1883, pp. 9-14.
p. 93
60 The Executive Committee of Narodnaya Volya suggested that Alexan
der I I I should introduce the freedoms which they listed as a temporary
measure pending the decision of the national assembly.
p. 94
Zemsky Sobor a central representative assembly is referred to. In 1873
.Marx and Engels wrote the following on this subject: At that time the
demand was raised for the convention of a Zemsky Sobor. Some demanded
it with a view to settling iinancial difficulties, othersso as to end the
monarchy. Bakunin wanted it to demonstrate Russias unity and to
consolidate the tsars power and might. (Lalliance de la Democratie Socialiste et lassociation Internationale des travailleurs. Rapport et docu
ments publies par ordre du congres international de La Hayo, 1873, p. 113.)
Many Russian revolutionaries equated the convocation of a Zemsky
Sobor with the overthrow of the tsarist dynasty.
The convocation of a Zemsky Sobor representing all citizens to draw
up a constitution was one of the programmatic demands of the Russian
Social-Democratic Party.
p- 95
42 Raznochintsi (people of different ranks and titles)a section of Russian
society at tho end of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th centuries.
Educated people who came of merchants, small townspeople, clergy and
the peasantry and not of the nobility. From them came a whole genera
tion of revolutionaries, fighters against absolutism andserfdom,
p. 95
43 A ll the quotations in this paragraph are from the leading article
of
No. 8-9 of Narodnaya Volya, February 5, 1882, p. 3.
p. 96
84 The first edition has] estates.
p. 97
46 Seyan, prefect ol' the Praetorian Guards. Mistrusting those around him ,
Tiberius, Roman Emperor, made Seyan one of his trustees. Seyan gradu
ally won exceptional influence at the court and in the state. Overcome by
ambition he poisoned Drusus, Tiberius son, and organised a plot against
Tiberius. The plot was disclosed and Seyan was put to death.
p. 100
NOTES
744
* 11ubochaya Gazeta ( The Workers' Gazette)an illegal newspaper published

from December 1880 to December 1881 by a group of workers who \ver
members of Narodnaya Volya in Petersburg, under the editorship of
A. I. Zhelyabov. In all three issues were published. Its publication
ceased after the crash of the Narodnaya Volya organisation.
p.
87 Rabotnik ( The Worker)an illegal newspaper of the Dakuninisl trend
published in Geneva, 1875-1876. In all fifteen issues were published. It
was intended for the Russian working people the factory workers and
the peasantsand called on them to revolt.
p. jq-j
88 K. Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party, Cf. Selected
p. |()4
89 Nedelya (W'iefc)a weekly paper published in Petersburg from I860 to
1901. After 1876 it went over to the hands of the liberal Narodniks and
professed the theory of minor matters", i.e., called on the intelligentsia
to give up the revolutionary struggle and to pursue cultural work.
p. 105
70 The Announcement of the Publication of Vestnik Narodnoi Volt" was

printed in No. 1 of that journal, issued in 1883. The first lines of the
Announcement say: ' Vestnik Narodnoi Voli intends to be the organ abroad
of Russian socialism as expressed in the party of Narodnaya Volya, which
is lighting for absolutely definite aims under absolutely definite condi
tions.
p. 106
OUR
D IFFER EN C ES
The book Our Differences was written by Plekhanov in the summer of

1884 and published at the beginning of 1885 in the third volume of the Library
of Modern Socialism. It was the second big theoretical work of the Emanci
pation of Labour group, following Socialism and the Political Struggle. The
significance of this work was rated very high by Engels in his letter of Ap
ril 23, 1885, to Vera Zasulich. (Cf. K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected Corres
pondence, Moscow, 1965, pp. 383-85.)
An interesting reaction to the publication of Our Differences was a let
ter of the Petersburg workers group called Blagoyevtsi (after Blagoyey), one
of the first Social-Democratic groups in Russia, to the Emancipation of
Labour group. The letter dates to 1884 or 1885 and is kept in the Plekhanov
Archives. In it the workers wrote: If this book does not induce people to
adhere to tho opinions of our group (though examples of this have already
been observed), there can be no doubt that it provides a mass of material
for the criticism of the Narodnaya Volya programme, and a recasting of that
programme is positively necessary for the struggle. If possible, send us large
numbers of this pamphlet....
Plekhanov himself attributed particular significance to this book as
a most important stage in the ideological fight against Narodism. Ten years
after its publication he made two attempts to publish under the same title,
as a second part of this book, his new works directed, this lime, aguiust
liberal Narodniks. Mikhailovsky, Vorontsov and others. But as both these
works were published legally, Plekhanov, in order not to reveal their author,
was obliged to give them other names, The Development of the Monist View
of History and Justification of Narodism in the Works of M r. Vorontsov (1 ^ )
Later, fighting the Epigoni of Narodism, the Socialist-Revolutionaries.
Plekhanov again proposed to give the same title to a book directed against
them. But this book was never completed and was published in the form of
several articles in Iskra, in 1903 under the title Proletariat and Peasantry
(Cf. Iskra, Nos. 32-35 and 39.)
NOTES
745
Like other early works of Plekhanov published in the eighties and nineties,
O ur D ifferences was not republished until 1905 and became a bibliographical
ra rity . In t905 it was republished in Vol. I (the only one published) of the
Geneva edition of his Works.
The text published in the present edition has been checked with the
first edition and with the first volume of the Geneva edition of Plekhanov's
W orks.
71 This article by Lavrov was published in the bibliography section of
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section 2. pp. 64-07, April 1884. II contains
an analysis of two new pamphlets published by the Library of Modern
Socialism; Socialism and the Political Struggle by Plekhanov. and Socialism:
Utopian and Scientific, by Engels. The article is signed P. L.
p. 107
w From Nekrasovs poem The honest, bravely fallen are silenced.

(N. A. Nekrasov. Selected Works, Goslitizdat Publishing House, 1945,
p. 328.)
p. I l l
73 Nonconformistsa Protestant sect in England which did not conform to
the dominant Church of England and was therefore subject to
persecution.
p. 112
74 In the seventies. Plekhanov belonged to one of the groups of revolut ion
ary Narodism, the Bakuninist rebels . See Note 10.
p. 113
75 The reference is to the article "Bankruptcy of Bourgeois Science by Tara
sov (N. Rusanov) in Veslnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 1. pp. 59-97.
p. 114
76 Plekhanov is referring to Tarasovs article Political and Economic
Factors in the Life of Peoples", the beginning of which was published in
Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section 1, 1884, pp. 1-36. In this article
Tarasov bases himself on Diihring to affirm that the political factor plays
the primary role in historical evolution.
p. 114
77 Character in Voltaires tale Histoire de Genni ou I'athee et le sage. Oeuvres
completes, Vol. X X I, Paris, 1879, p. 529.
p. 117
78 Words from Griboyedov's Wit Works VFoe.
p. 117
78 The Announcement o the Publication of the Library of Modern Social
ism" by the Emancipation of Labour group was published in Geneva,
signed by editors P. Axelrod and G. Plekhanov, and dated September 25,
1883. It was printed in October of the same year as a supplement to the
first edition of the pamphlet Socialism and the Political Struggle and
in 1905 it was included in the first volume of the Geneva edition of Ple
khanovs Works, pp. 139-40. In this last edition the footnote written
by Deutsch was omitted. It was given under the title "For the Headers
Information on an unnumbered page (the third). In the Works, Vol. II
(post-revolutionary edition) the announcement is on pp.21-23.
p. 118
8u L. Tikhomirovs article What Can We Expect from the Revolution?"
was printed in Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Sectiou 1, 1884. pp. 227-02.
H On
.
]K 119
the substance of Tkachovism" see Introduction, Section
0
P. N. Tkachov" (pp. 150-61 of this volume) and Note 15.
p. 119
82 V. V .V. P. Vorontsov.
p. 119
83 On March 1, 1881, by decision of Narodnaya Volya, Alexander II was
assassinated in Petersburg by I. I. Grinevitsky. The organisers of this
act of terror, A. I. Zhelyabov, N. I. Kibalchich, S. L. Perovsknya,
T. M. Mikhailov and N. I. Rysakov, were executed. Many members of
Narodnaya Volya were imprisoned and exiled. A period of fierce reac
tion set in.
p. 119
746
NOTES
** Nechayevs organisation Narodnaya Rasprava (The Peoples Vengeance*

(186J) was based on the principles of Jesuitism, intim idation, and ter
rorism professed by Nechayev and his inspirerBakunin.
To quoin
Bakunin, Nechayevs task was not to teach the people, but to revolt
Marx and Engels resolutely opposed the ideas and activity of the Necha
yev organisation and described their plans for reorganising society as
"barracks communism.
p, 120
85 Quotation from P. Lavrovs review Outside Russia. ( Vestnik Narodnoi
Voli, No. 2, Section 2, 1884, p. 3.)
p. ^ t
80 The reference here is to the first programme of the Emancipation of
Labour group, put out in 1884. It was accompanied by notes pointing out
that it was not final but admitted of corrections and additions, provided
they did not contradict the basic ideas of scientific socialism. (See this
volume, p. 353)
p. 121
87 I'amusova character in Griboyedovs comedy IVif
neering obscurantist and hypocrite.
WorksWoe, a domi
p. 121
88 Paraphrase of Dantes words, Go your way and let people say what they
w ill, with which Marx ends the Preface to tho first edition of the first
volume of Capital.
p. 123
*9 Quotations from the first part of Plekhanovs article The Law of
Economic Development of Society and Socialisms Tasks in Russia", in
which the author still adhered to Narodnik positions, and which was
published in Zemlya i Volya, Nos. 3 and 4. (G. V. Plekhanov, Works,
Russ, ed., 1923-1927, Vol. I, pp. 62-66.)
p. 126
8(1 Margaretes reply to Fausts pantheist speech: "W ith
diflerent. (Cf. Goethe,Faust.)
words a little
p. 126
91 Khlestakova. character in Gogols comedy I nspeclor-Generala liar

and boaster.
p- 128
95 Quotation from Marxs Preface to the first edition of the first volume of
Capital. (Cf. K. Marx and F, Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 2, Moscow,
1969, pp. 88-89.)
P- 128
93 A. I. Herzens three letters to the English politician Linton were published
in 1854 in English and then in 1858 they were translated into Russian
under the title The Old World and Russia . They were included iu the
complete collection of Herzens works and letters under the editorship
of M. K . Lemke, Vol. V III , St. Petersburg, 1919. Plekhanov here quotes
from the third letter, dedicated to Russia. (Cf. Vol. V III , pp. 45-46.)
p. 12
94 N. G. Chernyshevskys article Criticism of Philosophical
P r e ju d ic e s
Against Communal Land Tenure was published in Sovremennik, No. ->

1858. (Chernyshevsky, Collected Works, in 15 volumes, Vol. V, Goslitt*dat Publishing House, 1950, pp. 357-92.)
P*
96 G. V. Plekhanov, WorttvRuss. ed. (1923-1927), Vol. V, pp. 21-22. p. 133

98 A ll the quotations made above are from Chernyshevsky's article Studien, devoted to an analysis of Haxthausen's Studien Uber die Innere
Zustande, das Volksleben und insbesondere die landlichen Einrichtunjl*
Russia rids. The article was published in Sovremennik, No. 7, 185'
N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected WorAw, Vol. IV , Goslitizdat Publish ns
House, 1948, pp. 303-48.)
P97 Describing Vera Pavlovnas fourth dream in his novel What Is
Done? Chernyshevsky gives a utopian picture of socialist society- ^
NOTES
747
N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected Works, Vol. X I, Goslitizdat Publishing

House, 1930, pp. 269-84.)
|p. 134
8 K, Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 134.

From Goethes Faust.
p. 136
p. 137
I0I) F. Engels, Socialism: Utopian and Scientific.
p. 137
>01 From Heines Germany. A Winter Tale''
p. 138
ms From Chernyshevskys article on Hnxthausen. (See Note 96.)
p. 139
i 3 Chernyshevsky's article The Struggle of the Parties in France under

Louis X V III and Charles X was published in Sovremennik, Nos. 8 and 9,
1858. (N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected Works, Vol. V, Russ, ed., 1950,
pp. 213-91.)
p. 139
104 N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected IVorfrs, Vol. V, Russ, ed., 1950, pp. 216-17.
p. 140
lci Quotation from the Inaugural Address of the International Working Mens
Association (First International), written by Marx in 1864. Cf. K. Marx
and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 2, Moscow, 1973, p. 17. p. 141
1## Plekhanov refers to the Manifesto of the} Communist Party as pub
lished in 1882. (Cf. K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected H'orfcs, Vol. 1,
Moscow, 1973, p. 118.)
p, 142
107 Quotation from the pamphlet Ingenious Mechanism by V. Y. Varzar,
Narodnik and follower of Lavrov, published in the early seventies when

peaceful propagandists used to go among the people.
p. 145
l0(' Tho article The Russian People and Socialism was a letter from Herzen
to the French historian J. Michelet, written in 1851. (Cf. A. I. Herzen,
Selected Philosophical Works, Moscow, 1956, p. 470.)
p. 150
loo The editor of Rus was the Slavophile I. S. Aksakov, and the editor of
Moikovskiye Vedomostl was the reactionary M. N. Katkov.
p. 151
110 Quotation from L. Tikhomirovs article \

\hat Can We Expect from the
Revolution?
p. 151
m Herzen in his letter to J. Michelet]mentioned on p. 150.
p. 151
112 Quotation from G. R. Derzhavins (1743-1816) poem.

p. 151
118 This is the title of a series of tales written by G. I. Uspensky.
p. 152
114 In the ancient Persian Teligion Ormuzd was the supreme god, the prin
ciple of good, and Ahriman was the principle of evil and calamities.
p. 152
1,6 The Chinese side of the question is lo he understood as hardened, invari
able, secluded life, as though lenced of! by the Chinese wall.
p. 153
118 I . N. Tkachov, Tasks of Revolutionary Propaganda in Russia, Letter to

the editor of Vperyod, 1874. (Cf. P. N. Tkachov, Selected Works, Russ,
ed., Vol. 3, pp. 55-87.)
p. 156
u ' P. N. Tkachov, Open Letter to M r. Frederick Engels, author of the articles
Emigrant Literature'' in Nos. 117 and 118 of Volksstaat, 1874. (Cf.
P. N. Tkachov, Selected WorAs, Russ, ed., Vol. 3,1933, pp. 88-98.) p. 157
118 Anarchy of Thought a collection of critical essays by P. N. 'lkacliov
{jublished by the journal Nabat, London, 1879. (Cf. P. N. Tkachov,
Selected Works, Russ, ed., Vol. 3, pp. 303-37.)
p. 160
748
NOTES
ll Russian Social-Revolutionary Youth& polemical pamphlet written bv

P. L. Lavrov against Tkachovs Tasks of Revolutionary Propaganda in
Russia. It was published in London in 1874 and signed: Editor of the
journal Vperyod! (Cf. P. L. Lavrov, Selected Works on Social and Politi.
cal Subjects in 8 volumes, Russ, ed., 1934, Vol. 3, pp. 335-72.)
p.
120 Editorial articles under the general title Revolutionary Propaganda"
were printed in a number of issues of Nabat, 1877-1878.
'p. jgf)
121 Quotations from P. N. Tkachovs What Is To Be Done Now? (Selected
Works, Russ, ed., Vol. 3, pp. 442, 446.)
p. ifij
122 Quotation from Engels article Position of England . (A review of
Thomas Carlyles Past and Present. Marx/Engels, Werke, Bd. I, S. 525-50.)
p. 164
123 Thinking realistsan expression used in the works of D. I. Pisarev. The

revolutionary Narodniks sometimes gave themselves this name. p. 164
124 Quotation from P. Lavrov's review of Socialism and the Political Strug
gle. ( Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section 2, 1884, p. 65.)
p. 167
125 Quotation from Engels Emigrant Literature, Section 2, The Programme
of the Bianquist Emigres of the Commune. The article was printed in
Volksstaat in 1874.
P- 167
126 plekhanovs quotation from Lermontovs poem Journalist, Reader and
Writer is not quite accurate.
P- 169
127 The journal Deutsch-Franzosische Jahrbiicher was edited by Marx and
Arnold Ruge in Paris in 1844. Only one issue, a double one, appeared.
Plekhanov here refers to Marxs article Criticism of Hegels Philosophy
of Law, published in that issue.
P- 17(l
128 K. Marx, The Porerty of Philosophy, Moscow, p. 197.
P-
170
128 Plekhanov here refers to Tarasov's article Bankruptcy of Bourgeois

Science , devoted to the analysis of Ivanyukovs book Basic Propositions
of the Theory of Political Economy from Adam Smith to the Present Day(See Note 33.)
P- 1TO
130 P. L. Lavrov. (See Note 119.)
P-
131 Hegel, Vorlesungen Uber die Philosophie der Geschichte, Berlin, 1848. S.
132 Words of the poet in Pushkins poem The Hero". The original say8,j
Self-glorifying lies are dearer to us than many a bitter truth.'
P133 The author of A Letter to Former Comrades was O. V. Aptekman. The
letter gave a historical and theoretical substantiation of tne programing
and work of the Chorny Peredel group.
P- 1^
131 This leading article was written by Plekhanov.
P- 17^
135 Independentsa political party during the English Revolution of the

17th century, expressing the interests of the middle bourgeoisie and tj1
bourgeoisified nobles. By their demands of religious freedom and i*' .
pendence they drew the petty bourgeoisie and the peasantry in ,h<Ll1T
wake for a time.
P138 All quotations from Tikhomirov in this and the following chapters are
taken from his article What Can We Expect from the Revolution. ^
137 Words from Griboyedov's comedy Wit Works Woe.
P' *11
749
NOTES
ins from Krylovs fable "The Crow and the Fox.
p. 177
is This formulation is the one given by Lassalle in his famous pamphlet

Programme of Workers.
p. 178
jm See this volume, p. 101 et seq.
p. 179
In the article Preparatory Work of the Tarty. (Kalendar Narodnoi

Voli for 1883, pp. 122-34.)
p. 179
142 See Note 66.
p. 180
143 In one of his unpublished notes kept in Plekhanov House, Leningrad,

Plekhanov quotes significant pronouncements of French public figures on
the eve of tho Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71.
"Marshal Leboeuf: We are ready, more than ready; if the war lasts
even as much as a year we shall not be short of anything, not even
buttons for the soldiers gaiters!
The President of the Senate: Sire, thanks to your solicitude, France
is prepared.
The War Minister: There is no Prussian army; I deny it.
p. 181
144 PanglossCandides tutor in Voltaires tale Candide. Pangloss followed
Leibnizs proposition A ll is for the best in this, the best of worlds".
p. 185
146 According to tradition the Roman patrician Lucretia (6th cent. B. C.),
raped by tho Emperors son Sextus, committed suicide, and this, it is
said, provided a pretext for the revolt which ended in the banning of the
Roman emperors and the establishment of an aristocratic republic.
p. 185
146 Quotation from Heines poem Fragen.
p. 186
p. 188
148 Cf. Letter of January 6, 1873, in Briefe und sozial-politische Aufsdtze von
Ur. liodbertus-Jagetzow, edited by Rud. Meyer, Berlin, 1882, Bd. 1,
S. 291.
p. 188
118 K. Marx and F. Engels, On Britain, Moscow, 1962, pp. 36-38.
140 N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected Works, Vol. V II,
House, 1950, p. 223.
p. 189
Goslitizdat Publishing
p. 190
151 V. V. (Vorontsov)s book The Destinies of Capitalism in Hussia was pub

lished in 1882.
p. 191
152 Quotation from Goethes Faust.
p. 191
153 Quotation from K. Marx's The Poverty of Philosophy, Moscow, p. 197.

p. 192
164
The iron law of wages"& dogma of bourgeois political economy based

on Malthus reactionary population theory. It was Lassalle who de
scribed it as "iron. Marx expounded this law as follows: According to
them, wages rise in consequence of accumulation of capital. The higher
wages stimulate the working population to more rapid multiplication,
and this goes on until the labour-market becomes too full, and therefore
capital, relatively to the supply of labour, becomes insufficient. Wages
full, and now we have the reverse of the medal. (K. Marx. Capital, Vol. (,
Moscow, 1958, p. 637.) Proceeding from the doctrine thal wages find in
Ilie growth of the population natural, inherent limits, bourgeois
economists maintained that the poverty and unemployment of the work-
750
NOTES
ing classes were the fault not of the capitalist mode of production but r
nature. Both in Capital and his Critique of the Gotha Programme Mar
proved that the iron law, as opposed to the Lassallean theory of wuol*
is completely unfounded.
p
165 Quotation from Tikhomirovs article What Can We Expect from tho
Revolution? ( Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, 1884, p. 240.)
p jgg
166 The first edition has Western .
p jgg
167 K. Marx, The Poverty of Philosophy, Moscow, p. 45.
p. jyg
Ibid.,
pp.
75-76.
p. lg8
159 The Peace of Nymwegen was concluded between France and the Nether
lands in 1678.
p_ jytj
180 The Peace of Versailles was signed on September 3, 1783, between the
U.S.A. and its allies, France, Spain and Holland, on the one side, and
England on the otber.
p. 200
181 Quotation from Friedrich List, Das natlonale System der politischen
Oekonomie, 2-te Aufl., Stuttgart und Tubingen, 1842, Bd. 1, Kap. 9
S. 154.
p . 202
162 Ibid., S. 155.
p. 202
183 Communist Leaguethe first organisation of the revolutionary proleta
riat, founded by Marx and Engels in the summer of 1847 in London.
Marx and Engels were charged by this organisation to write the Manifesto
of the Communist Party which was published in February 1848. The
defeat of the revolution in Germany 1848-1849 led in 1850 to a split
between Marx and Engels supporters and the Willich-Schapper group
within the Communist League. At the end of 1852, on Marxs initiative,
the League was officially dissolved. The Communist League was one oi
the predecessors of German Social-Democracy and the First Interna
tional.
p. 205
184 This and the following quotations are from Marxs article Revelations
about the Cologne Communist Trial.
p. 205
185 Plekhanov here refers to the proclamation of the Executive Committee
of Narodnaya Volya To the Ukrainian People", dated August 30, 1881,
in connection with the anti-Jewish pogroms. The editorial board of the
paper Narodnaya Volya expressed its solidarity with that proclamation
in Home Review. (Narodnaya Volya, No. 6, October 23, 1881.)
p. 206
108 Walka Klas ( The Class Struggle)organ of the International SocialRevolutionary Party published in Geneva in the Polish language.
p. 207
187 K. Marx., Enthulliingen uber den Kommunisten-ProzefS zu Koln (Marx/
Engels, Werke, Bd. 8, Berlin, 1969, S. 413).
p- 207
188 Physiocratsa group of French bourgeois economists in the second half
of the 18th century (Quesnay, Turgot and others) who considered agri
cultural labour as the only productive work and supported tho develop
ment of industrial agriculture.
P- 210
189 Manchester School& group of English economists (Cobden, B rig h t and
others) who in the first half of the 19th century expressed the interests
of industrial bourgeoisie of the premonopolistic epoch, aspirations of
that bourgeoisie for free trade, ana its protest against any state interfer
ence in economic life. These economists fiercely fought against
751
NOTES
coru taxes, on the oue hand, and against restricting tho length of the
working day by legislation, on the other. They considered free competition
to be the main motive force of production. Marx showed that Mancheste
rian demagogy covered up the desire to achieve freedom of capitalist
enterprise and to intensify the exploitation of the working class.
p. 211
no Polyakova Russian capitalistused to bribe the ministers to obtain
concessions in railway building.
p. 212
17J Vestnik Yevropy (European Messenger)a monthly magazine devoted to
politics and nistory, bourgeois liberal in trend, that appeared in St.
Petersburg from 18G6 to 1918. From the nineties it fougnt Marxism.
p. 214
172 Vorontsov borrowed this table from V. I. Veshnyakovs article Russian

Industry and Its Needs. Vestnik Yevropy, No. 10, 1870.
p.
214
173 Weaving hall (Russian svetjolka)here it is a special light, roomy loghouse used for work.
p. 216
174 The reference to the All-Russia Arts and Industry Exhibition held in
Moscow in 1882.
p. 220
176 Manilova. character from Gogols Dead Soulsa. vain and fruitless
dreamer.
p. 230
176 K. Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Moscow, 1958, pp. 748-49.
p. 231
p. 232
178 John, Chap. 13. Words of Jesus to Judas when the latter hesitated to
give his treacherous signal to the Roman soldiers.
p. 233
179 In the article Novelties in Economic Literature (bibliography). V. V.
Destinies of Capitalism in Russia, Petersburg, 1882. (Yuridichesky Vest
nik [The Legal Herald], January 1883, pp. 89-110.)
p. 233
180 Quotation from Plekhanovs Note 8 to the pamphlet What Do the SocialDemocrats Want?
p. 237
191 The reference is to M. Tugan-Baranovskys book: Industrial Crises.
Essays on the Social History of England, 2nd ed., St. Petersburg, 1900.
There was an edition in 1923.
p. 237
182 Plekhanovs statements about Lenin referring to the year 1905 are abso
lutely untrue. Here one can plainly see the Menshevik Plekhanovs ten
dency to injure Bolshevism by representing Lenins defence and sub
stantiation of the Marxist theory of markets as a repetition of the theories
of the vulgar economist J.-B. Say. It was precisely in his work Note on
the Theory of Markets that Lenin criticised Sm iths and Says market
theory.
p. 237
183 Razuvayeva character in several tales by Saltykov-Shchedrin. (See
Note 2(58.)
p. 238
1,4 Cf. Correspondence of Marx and Engels with Russian Political Figures,
Gospolitizdat Publishing House, 1951, pp. 340-42.
p. 240
x,s Inaccurate quotation from Nekrasovs poem Father Frost, Red Nose , p. 240
p. 241
187 State peasants peasants who lived on the land belonging to the state to
which they were obliged to pay feudal rent in addition to the state tax.
Money dues of these peasants were extremely burdensome. However,
752
NOTES
their conditions were somewhat better than those of the landlords serfs
The law gave them more rights in the use of the land, recognised them a*
free peasants (selskiye obyvateli) and allowed them to change their place
of residence.
Appanage peasantsa category of peasants who were the personal
serfs of the tsar and his family and lived on special plots provided (or
the maintenance of the tsarist court.
The conditions of these peasants hardly differed from those of the
landlords peasants.
Temporarily-bound peasantsformer serfs released from personal
dependence on the landlords. After the abolition of serfdom in 1861
the peasants received not the ownership but the use of land allotments'
for which they were obliged to perform labour services and pay money
to the landlords until they had paid tho redemption lees, i.e.. they were
"temporarily bound . (See also Note 195.)
p. 247
188
189
By popular economy as such Plekhanov understands peasant couimuual

economy.
p. 250
The Invincible Armada a Spanish fleet sent by Philip II of Spain
against England in 1588. It was defeated by the English and Dutch fleets
and destroyed by storms.
p. 252
19(1
The Cat and the Cook from Krylovs fables. Here,lierepresents

the
autocracy.
p. 252
191
At the end of the second volume of his poem Dead Souls, Gogol gave
a symbolical figure of Russia in the form of a troika rushing forward
while other peoples and states give way to it".
p. 253
192
Sazhenan old Russian measure of length = 2.25 yds.
p. 256
163
Meraan old Russian measure of weight = 144 lbs.
p. 257
194
195
199
197
This is apparently a mistake. On page 40 of Prugavins book, from where

the quotation is taken, the following volosts of Yuryev Uyezd are men
tioned: Spasskoye, Esiplevo, Davydovo, Petrovskoye, Gorkino and
Simskaya.
P- 259
Redemptiona step taken by the tsarist government after the abolition of
serfdom. The Reform of 1861 provided that the temporarily-bound peasants
were to redeem their allotments. On concluding the redemption
deal, the temporarily-bound peasants became property owners and were
freed from former obligatory services to their landlords.
p. 263
Gostomyd first prince or posadnik of Novgorod according tosome or the
later chronicles.
P- -W)
F. Engels, Anti-Duhring, Moscow, 1969, Introduction, p. 31.
p. 270
108
F. Engels, Anti-Duhring, Moscow, 1969, p. 31.
199
Devoted without flatterymotto on the crest of Arakcheyev, bestowed

on him by Paul I. Thanks to Pushkins epigram it became a symbol oj
servility towards influential personages.
P>
P- -^1
200
Credo, quia absurdurna saying attributed to the Christian writer Ti'rtullian (3rd cent. A. D.).
P-
3U1
Quotation from P. L. Lavrov's review of Plekhanovs Socialism and

Political Struggle, published in Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section ~
1884, pp. 64-67.
P-
202
Plekhanov here means Vera Ivanovna Zasulich.
P-
NOTES
753
23 K. T. K . Tarasov. Plekhanov refers to his review of E. Laverdays' book,

Les assemblies parlantes. Critique du gouvernement representatif, Paris, 1883.
Cf. Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, Section 2, 1884, pp. 67-85.
p. 280
aw Akaky Akakiyevieha minor official in Gogols tale The Coat.
p. 285
su6 Reference to an article by I. Luchitsky, The Land Commune in the

Pyrenees. Otechestvenniye Zapiski, No. 9, 1883, pp. 57-78.
p. 286
so The edict, which was issued by the Emperor Peter I I I on February 18,
1762, freed the gentry from compulsory m ilitary or state service, p. 287
From Krylovs fable The Tomtit. The tomtit attained fame but did
not set the sea on fire.
p. 297
*** The words italicised here are not so in the pamphlet Socialism and the
Political Struggle.
p. 300
jo Tilt1 expression "fear the Greeks""timeo danaos et dona ferentesv (I fear
the Greeks even when they bring gifts)is connected with the legend of
the Trojan Laocoon who tried to convince his fellow citizens not to
bring into the city the wooden horse left by the Greeks. His fears came
truethe soldiers hidden in the horse helped to capture Troy.
p. 300
110 The Battle of Sadowa, in July 1866, ended the Austro-Prussian War and
determined Prussias leading role in the unification of Germany, p. 302
** The repentant nobleman" is an expression introduced into literature by

N. K. Mikhailovsky and characterising the type of man who regards
himself as owing a debt he cannot pay to his people for the sins of his
fathers and the horrors of serfdom.
p. 302
211 From Goethes Faust.
p. 307
M3 See M. Kovalevskys book Communal Land Tenure, the Causes, Course

and Consequences of Its Disintegration, Moscow, 1879.
p. 312
J1J F. Engels, Anti-Duhring, Moscow, 1969, p. 31.
p. 318
215 From
p. 318
Goethes
Faust.
216 Arthur Arnoult, L'etat et la rivolutlon, Geneva and Brussels, Babotnik. 1877.
P- 318
2,7 The reference is to K. Marx's Contribution to the Critique of Political
Economy, published in Berlin in 1859.
p. 322
21s F. Engels, The Peasant War in Germany, Moscow, 1956, pp. 138-39. p. 329
219 K. Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. Cf. K. Marx
and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 398.
p. 329
wn In his article What Can We Expect from the Revolution? Tikhomirov
opposes the views or the members of Narodnaya Volya to those of tho
Emancipation of Labour group, which, he maintains, had no other way
out than to promote the development of Russian capitalism and to
light for a liberal constitution. According to his assertion, Narodnaya
Volya fought for a constitution to hand over power to the people, not
to give the bourgeoisie a new instrument for organising ana disciplin
ing the working class by depriving them of land, by fines and manhand
ling. (Cf. Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, 1884, p. 237.)
p. 331
A tale by A. Ertel, a liberal writer who in his writings represented mer
chants and businessmen as the organisers.of the economy and vehicles
of progress, was published in Vestnik Yevropy, Nos. 6-8, 1883. p. 331
*a-01329
754
NOTES
222 Otechestvenniye Zapiski (Fatherland Notes)a literary political mai?a7in
published in Petersburg from 1820. In 1839 it became the best ptoineJl

sive publication of its day. Among its contributors were V. G. Belinskv
A. I. Herzen, T. N. Granovsky, and P. N. Ogaryov. In 1868 the maea
zine came under the direction of M. Y. Saltykov-Shchedrin, N. A. Nekra
sov and G. Z. Yeliseyev. This marked the onset of a period in which tho
magazine flourished anew, gathering around itself the revolutionarydemocratic intellectuals of Russia. The Otechestvenniye Zapiski was con
tinually harassed by the censors, and in April 1884 was closed down bv
the tsarist government.
p. 33'j
223 Words of Repetilov in Griboyedovs Wit WorA-s Woe.
p. 332
224 A reference to the unsuccessful attempt to assassinate Alexander II

made bv A. I. Brzozowski, a Polish revolutionary, in Paris on June 6
1867. '
p . 33^
225 From Nekrasovs poem The Forsaken Village.
p. 332
326 Here Plekhanov probably refers to the passage in Tikhomirovs article
where he draws a parallel between the conservative, who sees the salva
tion of Russia in a strong gentry, and the Social-Democrat, who sees it in
the working class.
p. 334
227 Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 2, 1884, p. 236.
p. 337
228 Plekhanovs comparison bears on the conduct of the Narodnaya Volya
member Goldenberg after his arrest. He broke the rules of conspiracy and
was caught by the secret police. Realising that he had involuntarily
betrayed the cause, he committed suicide in the Peter and Paul Fortress.
Zhelyabov is contrasted with Goldenberg as the type of strong-willed
underground conspirator.
p. 339
220 Plekhanov here quotes the programmatic article in Kalendar Narodnoi

Voli for 1888Preparatory Work of the Party. The section of this
article on Ihe urban workers begins with the words: The working popu
lation of the towns, which is of particularly great significance for the
revolution both by its position ana its great development, must be the
object of the Partys serious attention. (P. 130.)
p. 339
230 The explosion in the Winter Palace, carried out by Stepan Khalturin,
and the sapping of the Malaya Sadovaya were stages in the plans for
the assassination of Alexander II, worked out by the Executive Com
mittee of Narodnaya Volya and ending in the terrorist act of March 1,
1881the assassination of Alexander II.
p. 340
831 On the Northern Union ofRussian Workers see Notes 39 and 41.
p. 340
192 The end of the seventies was marked by a wave of strikes embracing
a number of branches of industry, chiefly the textile industry, in which

the exploitation of the workers was most intense. During the three years
from 1878 to 1880 there were over a hundred strikes. These were of a pure
ly economic character, the workers still believed in the tsar and even
addressed a petition" to Alexander I I I , who succeeded to the throne.
Some Narodnaya Volya members, in particular Plekhanov, took an active
part in the organisation of these strikes. (See Plekhanovs correspondence
and the article The Russian Workers in the Revolutionary M o v e m e n t .)
p. 341
833 K. Marx. General Rules of the International Working Men's Association.
Cf. K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 2, Moscow. 1973. P- 19/
p. 344
NOTES
755
Tikhomirovs contributionsigned L. T .G. PlekhanovOur Differ

ences, Geneva, 1885. (Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, No. 5, Section 2, 1886,
p. 40, Notes on New Books.)
p. 352
! 3 plekhanov wrote the article Inevitable Change in connection with
Tikhomirovs foreword to the second edition of his book La Russie poli
tique et sociale. The article A New Champion of Autocracy, or Mr. L. Ti
khomirov's Grief was a reply to Tikhomirovs pamphlet Why I Ceased
to Be a Revolutionary, on which Plekhanov also wrote a short review.
The article A New Champion of Autocracy is included in this volume.
p. 352
PRO GRA M M E
OF THE SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC EMANCIPATION

OF LABOUR GROUP
The writing of this first draft programme apparently coincided with the
organisation of the Emancipation of Labour group in the autumn of 1883.
This is borne out by correspondence of its members. (Cf. The Emancipation
of Labour Group, Coll. I, p. 187.) and by the mention of the programme in
L. Deutschs letter to his comrades in Russia. (Cf. The Literary Legacy of
G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. I, p. 225.)
The programme was published later, in 1884, in Geneva, as a separate
pamphlet. In 1905 it was included in the first volume of Plekhanovs Works,
published in Geneva.
The present edition conforms to the text of the second volume of Plekhanovs VVor/w (1923-1927), checked with the last edition during the authors
lifetime in 1905.
i3a Regarding the point on direct popular legislation, which was also
included in the second draft, Lenin wrote in 1899 in his article A Draft
Programme of Our Party that this point should not be introduced into
the programme, since the "victory of socialism must not be connected,
in principle, with the substitution of direct people's legislation for parlia
mentarism. (V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 4, p. 238.)
p. 354
237 Here, as in the later formulations of the draft on the subject of the so
cialist intelligentsia , one can feel the Narodnik past of the authors of the
programme.
p. 355
238 In 1907, in his work The Agrarian Programme of Social-Democracy in the
First Russian Revolution, 1905-1907, Lenin said of this and similar for
mulations: The error of that programme is not that its principles or
partial demands were wrong. No. Its principles are correct.... The error
of that programme is its abstract character, the absence of any concrete
view of the subject.... Of course, it would be absurd to put the blame for
this mistake on the authors of the programme, who for the first time laid
down certain principles long before the formation of a workers party.
On the contrary, it should be particularly emphasised that in that pro
gramme the inevitability of a radical revision of the Peasant Reform
was recognised twenty years before the Russian Revolution. (V. I. Lenin,
Collected Works, Vol. 13, p. 256.)
p. 356
239 The point about production associations, which was again included
in the second draft, reflected the influence of Lassalleanism. There was

an analogous point in the Gotha Programmethe programme of Ger
man Social-Democracy adopted in May 1875. (Cf. K. Marx and F. Engels,
Selected Works, Vol. 2, Moscow, 1973, pp. 24-25.)
Lenin spoke of the need to omit this point from the Programme of
the R .S .D .L .P ., being of the opinion, however, that its inclusion in
48*
756
NOTES
Ihe programme was natural iu the period of the Emancipation of Labour
group. (Cf. V. I. Lenin, Collected iforAs, Vol. 4, p. 241.)
p 357
I4,) The erroneous point of the First Draft of the programme dealing with
the necessity of individual terror is an echo of and a concession to Narod
naya Volya. In the Second Draft there is no longer any question of indi
vidual terror, but of the transition, at a convenient time, to general and
resolute attacks on the Government, terror no longer being considered
necessary under ull circumstances as a means of struggle. (Cf. Second
Draft Programme, p. 360 of this volume.)
p. 357
541 Calling on the intelligentsia to work among the industrial proletariat,
the authors of the Draft admitted the possibility of an independent

revolutionary movement of the peasantry. This admission is omitted
from the Second Draft. Neither tho First nor the Second Draftunderlines
with sufficient clarity the revolutionary role of the peasantry in the
bourgeois-democratic revolution, or the thought that the proletariat could
be victorious over tsarism only in alliance with the peasantry, p. 357
SECOND DKAl'T PROGRAM M E
OF THE RUSSIAN SOCIAL-DEMOCRATS
The Second Draft Programme of the Emancipation of Labour group was

written in 1887. It was highly appraised by Lenin. (V. I. Lenin, Col
lected Works, Vol. 4, pp. 231-32.)
The Second Draft was first published in Geneva in 1888 under the title
Draft Programme of the Russian Social-Democrats, as an appendix to the
pamphlet What do the Social-Democrats Want? It was published a second
time ten years later as au appendix to Axelrod's pamphlet On the Question of
the Contemporary Tasks and Tactics of the Russian Social-Democrats which ap
peared in Geneva in 1898. Its next publication was in the Social-Democratfc
Calendar for 1902, published by the Struggle group in Geneva. In 1903 the
Draft was published by G. A. K uklin as a separate pamphlet with the "An
nouncement on the Resumption of the Publications of the Emancipation of
Labour Group. This was its last edition during the authors lifetime.
In tho present volume the Draft is printed according to the text of the
second volume of Plekhanovs Works (1923-1927) checked with the tirst,
second and the last impressions during the authors lifetime.
243 See Note 236.

P- 358
243 All these statements on the causes of instability , etc., of the intel
ligentsia ought, in Lenins opinion, to have been omitted from the

section on the principles in the programme. (V. I. Lenin,Collected Works,
Vol. 4, p. 237.)
P.
*44 In connection with this point Lenin wrote in 1899: We believe that
the programme of a working-class party is no place for indications 01
the means of activity that were necessary in the programme of a group 01
revolutionaries abroad... And further: In order to leave nothing un
said, we will make tho reservation that, in our personal opinion, terror
is not advisable as a means of struggle at the present moment, that tin1
Party (as a party) must renounce it (until there occurs a change of c'r
cumstances that might lead to a change oftactics).... (V. I. Len':
P-
*4* The first two editions read: basing itself on these ... rights,
work
ers party will put forward...." The change was introduced in the la;-
NOTES
757
edition during the author's lifetime, in 1903, and it. is probable that
the text in tho Works was printed according to that edition.
p. 361
248 Lenin wrote in connection with this point: It seems to me that the basic
idea here expressed is perfectly correct and that the Social-Democratic

working-class party should, in point of fact, include a relevant demand
in its programme. (V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 4, p. 241.) How
ever, he considered that this demand was not precise enougli for the end
of the nineties. Plekhanov himself also admitted this in his Commentary
on the Draft Programme of the Russian Social-Democratic Labour Party,
explaining the formulation of the draft by diplomatic" considerations.
p. 361
217 For changes and additions to thispoint see V. I. Lenin,Collected Works,

Vol. 4, pp. 240-41.
p. 361
243 See Note 239.

p. 361
249 Concerning this note Lenin wrote in 1899: ...When the traditions of
revolutionary Narodism were still alive, such a declaration was suffi
cient; but today we must ourselves begin to discuss the 'basic principles
of work among the peasantry if we want the Social-Democratic workingclass party lo become a vanguard figh'.er fordemocracy.
(V. I. Lenin,
p. 362
A NEW CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY,

OR Mr. L. T IK H O M IR O V S G R IE F
(Reply to the Pamphlet:
Why I Ceased to Be a Revolutionary)
The occasion for the pamphlet A A'ew Champion of Autocracy, or Mr.
L. Tikhomirovs Grief was Mr. Tikhomirov's pamphlet Why I Ceased to Be
a Revolutionary, which was published in Russian in Paris in 1888 and caused
a great sensation.
Lev Tikhomirov, a former member of Zemlya i Volya, member of the
Executive Committee of Narodnaya Volya, betrayed the revolutionary strug
gle and calumniated the Russian revolutionaries. After the publication of
this shameful booklet he filed an appeal for pardon in 1888 and in 1889 he
returned to Russia from emigration, boon he became one of the most devoted
champions and ideologists of the autocracy and a contributor to, and later
the editor of the reactionary newspaper Moskovskiye Vedomosti.
In August 1888, as soon as Tikhomirov's booklet was published. Plekha
nov wrote a review of il, saying, among other things, with great foresight:
There is the man to trust with editing Moskovskiye I'edomostil Mr. Tikhomi
rovs creative mind would be a real find for our reactionary press.
A New Champion of Autocracy was first published in Geneva in 1889 in
the Library of Modern Socialism (ninth volume). A second edition was put
out legally in 1906 in Petersburg as an appendix to the journal Sokol. This
was a reprint of the first edition and it bore very noticeable traces of censor
ship: particularly sharp points, especially in the characterisation of the
Russian autocrats, were considerably toned down.
In the present edition the work is printed according to the text of the
third volume of Plekhanovs Works (1923-1927), checked with the first
Geneva edition of 1889.
250 See Belinskys well-known letter to N. V. Gogol.
Selected Philosophical Works, Moscow', 1956, p. 536.)
(V. G. Belinsky,
p. 364
758
261
362
253
264
NOTES
Bussky Vestnik (Russian Messenger)a monthly journal which became
mouthpiece of aristocratic reaction and the Russian autocracy after
s,xtlesp.
Molchalina character from Griboyedovs comedy Wit Works Woe
type of the careerist, toady and time-server.
p
tit
th
364
tlm
ggg
Quotation from Heines Zurn Lazarus. Lap die heil'gen Paraholen. LaB
die frommen Hypothesen...." Plekhanov gives the lines in a translation
distorted by the censor. The correct translation by M. Mikhailov
was first published in the journal Byloye (Past), No. 2, 1906, p. 279 It
runs:
Or is not everything on earth accessible to God's will?" (H. Heine)
p. 371
Ilya Muromets& hero of Russian legends in the 12-16th centuries,
one of the principal defenders of Ancient Rus. Tradition has it that
before his famous exploits he was deprived of the use of his legs. p. 372
255 The Programme of the Executive Committee of Narodnaya Volya was

56
published in the paper Narodnaya Volya, No. 3, January 1, 1800,

PP- 5-7'p 373
In connection with the sharpening of the contradictions inside the Zemlya i Volya organisation on the methods of struggle, a congress of the
members was convened in Voronezh in June 1879. Preparing for it, the
supporters of the terrorist struggle assembled at a separate congress in
Lipetsk. The Voronezh Congress adopted a half-hearted decision demand
ing special development of the terrorist struggle against the Govern
ment, as well as continuation of the work among the people.
Plekhanov here refers to his own position at the Voronezh Congress,
when he came forward as a determined opponent of terror. Getting 110
support, he left the Congress, but set forth in writing his reasons for
leaving the Zemlya i Volya organisation. In this connection see his arti
cle Unsuccessful History of theNarodnaya Volya
Party.
p. 374
257
Plekhanovs reference is to a book by De Custine published in Paris

in 1843 under the title La Russie en 1839. De Custine gave his impressions
of a journey through Russia and severely condemned the autocracy. Tho
reactionary journalist N. I. Grech, with the approval of the tsar and the
3rd Department, published a pamphlet in French and German, attempt
ing to refute what De Custine wrote. (On this see Herzens Diary. Col
lected Works, in 30 volumes, Russ, ed., Vol. II, 1954, pp. 311-12 and 340.)
p. 379
258
Moskovskiye Vedomosti (Moscow Recorder)a daily which began to ap

pear in 1756. From the sixties of the 19th century it was taken over by
Katkov and expressed the views of the most reactionary and monarchist
elements.
p. 380
259
Kostanjoglo and Murazovcharacters in the second volume of Gogol's

Dead Souls.
p. 382
260
Plekhanov here alludes to the following historical events: As a result

of the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878, the Treaty of San Stefano recog
nised tho independence of Rumania, which was formed in 1859 by the
union of the principalities of Moldova and Walakhia. Soon, in 1883.
Rumania allied wit n Austria-Hungary against Russia. By the Treaty
of San Stefano Bulgaria and Serbia also received their independence.
But the policy of thetsaristgovernment, whichwas subordinate
to the
interests of reaction in Europe, led to a considerable drop in the prestige
NOTES
759
of Russian tsarism in those countries. At the same time, the peoples of

Rumania, Serbia and Bulgaria were full of sympathy for the Russian
people, who had helped them to free themselves from Turkish domination.
p. 384
m Kit Kitychdistorted name of Tit Titych Bruskov, a merchant in
A. N. Ostrovskys comedy Shouldering Another's Troubles. He came to
symbolise the petty tyrant.
P- 384
A. K . Tolstoi, History of the Russian State from Gostomysl Timashev.
(Cf. Collection of Poetry, published by Sovietsky Iisatel Publishing
House, 1937, p. 364.)
P- 385
3 Leibkampantsigrenadiers of the Guards Company of the Preobrazhen
sky Regiment, with whose help a palace revolution was effected in 1741
and the Empress Elizabeth Petrovna was placed on the throne,
p. 386
s*4 Alexander I I I , intimidated by the increasing terror activities of Narod

naya Volya, and fearing a revolutionary outbreak, remained in his
palace at Gatchina for two years in the early eighties after the assassi
nation of Alexander II, voluntarily confining himself and his family to
isolation. His contemporaries called him the Gatchina prisoner. In the
Preface to the Russian edition of the Manifesto of the Communist Party
(1882) Marx and Engels called him a prisoner of war of the revolution.
p. 387
146 From the poem Mtsyri by Lermontov.
p. 388
** George Kennan, an American traveller, went to Siberia in 1884-1886

by arrangement with Century Magazine in which he undertook to publish
his observations. Since Kennan had publicly condemned the terrorists
in 1882, the Russian authorities w illingly allowed him to enter Russia
and visit prisons and forced labour camps, in the hope that owing to
his negative attitude to the Russian revolutionaries he would help to
attract world opinion to the side of the Russian Government. But Ken
nan disappointed them. On his return from Siberia he published a number
of books describing Russian prisons and the living conditions of the
Russian revolutionary exiles. His books produced a powerful impression
and caused his readers to censure the tsarist regime. His books were
prohibited in Russia until 1905-1906.
p. 388
197 At the trial of the revolutionary Narodniks known as the trial of the 193
(1877-1878) the State Prosecutor Zhelekhovsky made a speech which

acquired ill repute for its dishonesty and lack of conviction and his
obvious calumny of the accused. During the trial one of the accused wrote
a poem parodying this speech. In 1883, it was published by Narodnaya
Volya members in a hectographed booklet entitled Speech for the Pro
secution bti State Prosecutor Zhelekhovsky at the Trial of the 193,1877-1878.
(Krasny Arkhiv, 1929, Vol. 3 (34), pp. 228-30.)
p. 392
Kolupayevs and Razuvayevscharacters in several tales by SaltykovShchedrin (e.g. the Poshekhonye Tales). Their names came to symbolise
merchants, kulaks and other representatives of the rural bourgeoisie
noted for their conservatism, vulgarity and tendency to brutal exploi
tation.
p. 394
** He will get it (yon dostanet) words of the merchant Razuvayev in Saltykov-Shchedrins Refuge of Mon Repos. Asked where he would get his
profits from if the people become utterly impoverished, he answered:
yon dosta-a-net (he will get it).
p. 394
760
NOTES
2,0 What Now? Lassalles sccond speech On the Essence of the Coijstii,
lion" delivered before the parliamentary elections in Prussia in 1862

P- 395
SPEECH AT THE IN T ERN A T IO N A L W O R K E R S

SOCIALIST CONGRESS IN PA RIS
{July 14-21, 1889)
The International Workers Socialist Congress in Paris was the first
congress of the Second International. It took place from Ju ly 14 to 21, 1889
At that time the Emancipation of Labour group did not have firm con
tacts in Russia and obtained no mandate for the Congress. Yet it understood
that its participation in the work of the Congress would be of great significance
not only to the Russian revolutionary movement but also to international
Social-Democracy.
The group settled the question of its participation in the Congress in
the affirmative. (Emancipation of Labour group , Coll. I I I . pp. 238-39.)
Plekhanov attended the Congress and made a speech ending with the
famous words on the victory of the revolutionary movement in Russia as
a working-class movement.
In a conversation with Voden Engels said that he and many other com
rades liked the speech of Plekhanov at the Paris Congress. (Cf. Reminiscencet
of Marx and Engels, Moscow, 1957, p. 329.)
There are two Russian translations of Plekhanovs speech: one was pub
lished in the Geneva Sozial-Demokrat, No. 1, 1890, Section 2, pp. 28-29,
the other, after his death, in the journal Letopisi Marksizma (A nnalx of
Marxism), 1926, No. 1, pp. 78-79.
The Works of Plekhanov include the first version in Vol. IV, pp. 53-54,
and the second in Vol. X X IV ', pp. 319-20. Both versions differ considerably and
are entitled to publication, the first as having been made during Plekhanovs
life and certainly having passed through his hands, the second as having
been made from the French original found in the archives of Guesde. among
other documents of the Congress.
For the present edition the texts have been checked with the first Russian
impressions in Sozial-Demokrat and Letopisi Marksizma.
FOR THE S IX T IE T H A N N IV E R S A R Y OF H E G E L S DEATH
Plekhanov wrote this article in German for the journal Die Neue Zeit. It
was published in Nos. 7, 8 and 9 in November 1891 under the title "Zu
Hegels sechzigstem Todestag. Immediately after the publication of the
article in Die Neue Zeit Engels appraised it very highly. In a letter dated
December 3, 1891 he wrote to Kautsky: Plekhanov's articles are excellent."
(Zu Hegels sechzigstem Todestag". Die Neue Zeit, Nr. 7. 1891.)
Hearing of this appraisal Plekhanov wrote to Engels: "1 have been told
that you wrote a few benevolent words about me to Kautsky on my article
about Hegel. If that is true, I desire no other praise. A ll that I should like
is to be your pupil, not quite unworthy of such teachers as Marx and you."
G. V. Plekhanov to Engels, March 25, 1893. (Cf. Correspondence of Marx and
Engels with Russian Political Figures, Russ, ed., 1951, p. 325.)
In 1892 Plekhanovs article was translated into Bulgarian and published
in the second issue of the Bulgarian symposium Social-Democrat. This time,
too, Engels commented on its publication. It has given me great pleasure,
ho wrote to the editors of the symposium on June 9, 1893, to see Plekhanovs
works translated into Bulgarian." (K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected
Correspondence, Moscow. 1965, p. 458.)
761
NOTES
In 1894 Plekhanovs article was published in the French journal L'ere

nouvelle (New Era) in Nos. 10 and 11. It was not published in Russian till
1906 when it appeared in Plekhanovs collecliou Criticism of Our Critics,
St. Petersburg, 1906, pp. 203-28.
In preparing the present edition the text of the WorA-s, Vol. V II, pp. 2955 (1923-1927) has been taken as a basis, checked with the first Russian edi
tion prepared by Plekhanov. The German edition has also been used for preci
sion. In the Russian translation Plekhanov left out some passages which
were in Die Neue Zeit, and added some new sentences.
571 K . Marx, Capital, Vol. I. Afterword to the second German edition and
Marxs Letter to Kugelmann, June 27, 1870. (Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels,
Selected Correspondence, Moscow, 1965 p.240.)
p. 401
:7! Die Neue Zeit (New Times)a theoretical journal of German SocialDemocracy. It carried a number of works and letters by Marx and Engels.
But even during Engels lifetime the editorial board headed bv Kautsky
did not pursue a consistently Marxist line but included in the journal
articles which distorted Marxism. Later they even falsified the literary
legacy of Marx and Engels.
p. 4u2
273 bra}imaone of the highest gods in the Hindu religious teaching. Accord
ing to Hinduism the first source of all lhat exists is the impersonal and
unqualified substance of God, theuniversal spirit.
p. 411
!7< The Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.C.) was between the slave-holding
democracy of Athens and the slave-holding oligarchy of Spartacitystates in Ancient Greece. There was a bitter struggle between the politi
cal groupings inside the cities which took part in it, especially in Athens
towards the end of the war.
p. 412
375 Hegel, Vorlesungen uber die Philosophie der Geschichte, Berlin, 1848,
S. 323.
p.
412
276 The Reformationsocial, political and ideological struggle in various
countries of Europe in the 16th century, against the Catholic Church

and feudalism. By undermining the clerical and political foundations
of feudalism the Reformation prepared the early bourgeois revolu
tions.
p. 413
WT Protestantisma variety of Christianity (Lutheranism, Calvinism, etc.)

which appeared in Germany and a number of other European countries
as a result of the Reformation.
p. 413
s'8 A vivid example of the arguments of Montesquieu referred to by Ple
khanov is Chapter Two, How Different People Are in Different Climates,

of the fourteenth book of his work De Vesprit des lois. (Montesquieu,
Oeuvres completes, I. I, Paris, p. 305.)
p. 414
' 7 Hegel, Geograpliische Grundlage derWeltgeschichte, S. 109.

p. 415
280 Plekhanov wrote a special article On Mechnikovs Book. (H'or/i-s,
Vol. V II, pp. 15-28.)
p. 415
251 Attica in antiquity, a region in the south-east of Central Greece with
a very peculiar relief. In 594 B.C. Solon carried out in Athens, the capi
tal of Attica, social and political reforms which played a progressive
historical role.
p. 415
282 K . Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Moscow, 1958. Afterword to the second German
edition, p. 19.
p.
422
762
NOTES
FO R E W O R D TO THE FIRST ED IT IO N
(FROM THE TRANSLATOR)
AND P LE K H A N O V S NOTES TO EN GELS' BOOK
L U D W IG F E U E R B A C H A N D THE END
OF C L A S S IC A L G E R M A N P H IL O S O P H Y
Engels Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy

was first published in 1886 in Nos. 4 and 5 of Die Neue Zeit. In 1888
Engels made minor changes while editing it and published it in the form of
a small book with a foreword and Karl Marxs Theses on Feuerbach as an
appendix. The first Russian translation of Engels' Ludwig Feuerbach by Ple
khanov was published in 1892 in Geneva by the Emancipation of Labour
group in the series Library of Modern Socialism.
Plekhanov prefaced his translation with a short foreword From the
Translator and wrote notes to it. In 1905 the second edition of Plekhanovs
translation of Ludwig Feuerbach was published by the Library of Scientific
Socialism in Geneva and the translator -wrote a long foreword to it intro
ducing changes and additions in the notes.
Both versions of the notes are given in the present edition. The additions
and changes made by Plekhanov in 1905 are given in square brackets. When
the text of the first edition is replaced by a different one in the 1905 text,
the 1892 version is given separately. Plekhanovs foreword to the 1905 edi
tion w ill be given in the third volume of Selected Philosophical Works.
Plekhanovs notes are given according to the text of his Works (1923-1927)
checked with the Geneva editions of 1892 and 1905 and with the manuscripts,
which are preserved in Plekhanov House.
243 Questions of Philosophy and Psychology& reactionary journal published
in Moscow from 1889 to 1918, the rallying centre for representatives of

various idealist schools and trends which succeeded one another over
a number of years, first Neo-Kantians and then Machists, Vekhovtsi,
etc.
'
P- 427
SM Plekhanov calls the materialist trend of thesixtiesnegational

for its
revolutionary negation of the Russianreality of the day and for its
tight against serfdom and autocracy.
P- 42/
545 Plekhanov here refers to Y . Kolubovskys bibliographical appendix lo
tberweg-Heiuzes History of Modern Philosophy, St. Petersburg, 1890.

In the third section of the appendixPhilosophy with the Russians
the following short lines are devoted to the philosophy of the sixties:
"The stormy sixties were marked by the appearance of materialism.
Chernyshevsky, Antonovich and Pisarev were the supporters of this teach
ing, whose force lay not so much in their thoroughness as in the significance
they then had. Yurkevich had no difficulty in coping with this trend
as far as its philosophical principles were concerned, but on the other
hand it was more difficult for him to counteract the influence of these writ
ers. (P. 529.)
P- 427
588 K . Marx and F. Engels Die heilige Familie (The Holy Family) appeared
in 1845. One can see from V. D. Perazichs letter to Plekhanov how diflicult it was to get this book in the nineties. Replying lo Plekhanov s
request to obtain the book for him on loan, Perazich wrote from Vienna
on December 19, 1892: Concerning the hetl[ige\ Fam[ilie\, yesterday
1 was to be told the results of the negotiations with Dr. Adler, the only
possessor of the book in spheres to which I have access.... I shall try to
have it copied and I can send you the manuscript." (The Literary Legacy I
G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. I,
pp. 265-66.)
P-
NOTES
763
The section Critical Battle Against French Materialism from a chapter

in The Holy Family was published in Die Neue Zeit, No. 9,1885, pp. 38595 under the title "Der franzdsische Materialismus des X V III Jalirhunderts. Plekhanov translated this extract and had it printed as an appen
dix to the booklet Ludwig Feuerbach. But prior to that, in 1885, he par
tially expounded it for the newspaper Nedelya ( The Week), before the
latter became the organ of the liberal Narodniks. This article was not
published, possibly because of a change in the trend of Nedelya. It was
published posthumously in The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov,
Coll. I, pp. 164-68.
p. 427
288 The Russian translation of this book was not published until 1906 and
then not entirely: K . Marx and F. Engels, The Holy Family, or Critique
of Critical Criticism. Against Bruno Bauer and Co. Selected Passages.
I. On Contemplative Philosophy. On the Occasion of Proudhon, New
Voice, St. Petersburg, 1906.
p. 428
489 F. A. Lange, Geschichte des Materialismus und Kritik seiner Bedeutung in

der Gegenwart,
1866.
180 C. N. Starcke, Ludwig Feuerbach, Stuttgart, F. Enke, 1885.
p. 428
p. 428
201 Plekhanovs note follows Engels words: ...this man was indeed none
other than Heinrich Heine. (Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works,
Vol. 3, Moscow, 1973, p. 337. A ll further references to Engels' Ludwig
Feuerbach w ill be according to that same edition.)
p. 429
*M Heines splendid work, On the History of Religion and Philosophy in

Germany.
p. 429
893 Heinrich Heine, Samtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Ernst Elster,

B. 6 , Leipzig und Wien, S. 535.
p. 429
**4 Note 2 concerns pages 360-66 of Engels work. It follows the words:
The Prussians of that day had the government that they deserved.
(p. 338.)
p. 430
aBi Essays: The Anniversary of Borodino by V. Zhukovsky, and Menzel,

Critic of Goethe. Cf. V .G . Belinsky, Collected Works, Russ, ed.. Vol. I l l ,
1953, pp. 240-50, 385-419.
p. 430
204 The essay Young Moscow in the fourth
section of the Memoirs of

A . I . Herzen. My Life and Thoughts. (Cf. A. I. Herzen, Selected Philosophi
cal Works, Vol. II, 1948, Gospolitizdat Publishing House, pp. 183-85.)
p. 430
297 Belinskys Letter to V. P. Botkin, March 1, 1841. (Cf. V. G. Belinsky,
Selected Letters, in 2 volumes, Vol. 2, Goslitizdat Publishing House, 1955,

pp. 141-42.) Plekhanov is doubtless mistaken when he speaks of a lower
ing of the level of Belinskys theoretical demands from the beginning
of the forties, i.e., after his refusal to be "reconciled w ith reality , p. 433
49(1 Belinskys Letter to P. V . Annenkov, February 15 (27), 1848, Ibid.,

p. 389.
p. 433
299 The article "For the Sixtieth Anniversary of Hegels Death . See this
volume.
V. G. Belinsky (Speech made in spring 1898 on the occasion of the
fiftieth anniversary of Belinskys death at Russian meetings in Geneva.
Zurich and Bern)."
p. 434
Note 3 follows Engels words: ...used the meagre cloak of philosophy

only to deceive the censorship. (P. 343).
p. 434
NOTES
764
301 The only issue of Deutsch-Franzosische Jahrbiicher, a double one, appeared
in February 1844. The works of Marx referred to by Plekhanov are: On

the Jewish Question, Introduction to the Criticism of Hegels Philoso
phy of Law; of Engels: Sketch of a Criticism of National Economy".
Besides, Deutsch-Franzosische Jahrbiicher carried Engels review of
Thomas Carlyles book Past and Present entitled The Position of Eng
land.
p. 434
302 Rheinische Zeitung fiir Politik, Handel und Gewerbe (Rhenish Gazette for
Politics, Trade and Industry) appeared daily in Cologne from January 1 ,
1842, till March 31, 1843. Founded by radical representatives of the
Rhenish bourgeoisie in opposition to the Prussian Government and with
the support of certain Left Hegelians, it became revolutionary democra
tic under Marxs editorship. (Cf. V. I. Lenin, Karl Marx, Collected
Works, Vol.21, p. 47.)
p. 434
303 In his article K arl Marx Lenin points out that the period of his work
with the Rhenish Gazette was marked by Marx's transition from idealism
to materialism and from revolutionary democratism to communism.
p. 434
301 Here the Rhenish Gazette is also meant. The name Cologne Gazette may be
misleading, for in Cologne there appeared at the same time the reac
tionary Cologne Gazette (KSlnische Zeitung) under the editorship of Hermes,
a secretagent ofthe Prussian Government.
p. 435
306 Articles by Marx in the Rhenish Gazette. (K. Marx and F. Engels, Gesamt-
ausgabe, Erste A bt., Bd. I, Erster Halbband, Frankfurt, 1927, S. 179397.)

P- 435
30 The New Rhenish Gazette (Neue Rheinische Zeitung) was published from
June 1. 1848 to May 19, 1849. In his article Marx and the Neue Rheinische
Zeitung" Engels wrote in 1884 that Marxs editorship made the New
Rhenish Gazette the most famous German newspaper of the years of revo
lution . No German newspaper, before or since, has ever had the same
power and influence or been able to electrify the proletarian masses as
effectively as the Neue Rheinische Zeitung. (K. Marx and F. Engels,
Selected Works, Vol. 3, Moscow, 1973, pp. 167, 172.)
Lenin called the New Rhenish Gazette the finest and unsurpassed or
gan of the revolutionary proletariat". (V. I. Lenin, Collected
Vol. 21, p. 81.)
P- 4:to
307 Note 4 follows Engels words: substance or self-consciousness".
(I*. 343.)
P- 4:55
808 The full title of Bauer's book was: The Good Cause of Freedom and My Own
Cause (Die gute Sache der Freiheit und meine eigene Angelegenheit).
p. 441
309 The Holy Family, or Critique of Critical Criticism. Against Bruno Bauer
and Co., Moscow, 1956.
P-
310 Mikhailovsky came out against Spencers theory on progress in a num ber
of works: What is Progress?, What is Happiness? , Notes by a Pro

fane. (N. K . Mikhailovsky, Collected Works, Vols. I, I I I , St. Petersburg,
1906, 1909.) These works illustrated the disagreement between two
in bourgeois positivist sociology.
P- 4-1
311 Note 5 comes after Engelswords: are only the fantastic reflection of
own essence. (P. 344.)
i* See Note 285.
our
P-
P- 44/
NOTES
765
83 in his exposition Plekhanov uses mainly Chapter Two, The General

Essence
of
Religion".
p. 444
31-* The inquiry undertaken by the socialist journal Mouvement socialiste

which appeared in Paris from January 1899 under the editorship of
Lagardel was called forth by the bitter struggle which the French Repub
lican Government waged against tho Catholic Church at the beginning of
tlu> century and which ended in the separation of the Church from the
State in 1905.
Answers received from the socialists in different countries were pub
lished in four issues of the journal in 1902Nos. 107-110, November 1
and 15, December 1 and 15.
p. 446
315 F. Engels, The Position oj England.

p. 446
318 K. Marx, A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Law.
Introduction.
.
p. 446
meant Berdyayev, Bulgakov and other Legal Marxists
who, at the end of the nineties, "criticised Marx from Kantian positions
and later, after the 1905 Revolution, went over to the God-seekers and
religious mysticism.
P- 446
317 Plekhanov
31* Note 6 comes after Engels words: typified by Herr Karl Grim . (P. 344.)
p. 446
319 F. Mehring, Geschichte der deutschen Sozialdemokratie.
p. 447
3au The critical analysis of Karl Griins book lakes up achapter of TheGer
man Ideology.
P- 447
321 Das Wesifalische Dampfboot ( Westphalian Steamboat)a monthly paper
issued by the true socialist D. Liming in Bielefeld and later in Paderborn
from January 1845 to March 1848.
p. 447
Osvobozhdeniye (Liberation)& journal published under the editorship
of P. B. Struve in Stuttgart and Paris, 1902-1905. Since 1904 it was an
organ of the liberal bourgeois League of Liberation, which in 1905
formed the nucleus of the Cadet Party.
The counter-revolutionary and anti-proletarian character of this
paper was exposed in a resolution suggested by Plekhanov and Lenin
and adopted by the Second Congressof the R .S .D .L .P . in 1903.
p. 448
323 Proletarythe central organ of the R .S .D .L .P ., was published in Geneva
from May 14 (27) to November 12 (25), 1905. Lenin was its editor. It
was the successor of Lenins Iskra (The Spark) and the Bolshevik Vperyod
(Forward), and became the ideological and organisational centre of Bol
shevism during the period of the First Russian Revolution. The paper
exposed the Menshevik tactics of compromising with the bourgeoisie.
In the additions he made to the notes on Engels Ludwig Feuerbach in
1905 Plekhanov, as a Menshevik, tried to discredit the theory of the
hegemony of the proletariat in the bourgeois revolution followed by
Proletary, representing it as a return to the ideas of Narodnaya Volya
party.
P- 448
324 F. Engels, The Peasant War in Germany, pp. 138-39.
These same propositions of Engels are analysed in Lenins article

Social-Democracy and the Provisional Revolutionary Government"
(V. I. Lenin, Collected Works, Vol. 8 , pp. 280-81) in which Lenin shows
the difference between the point of view- of revolutionary Social-Democracy and that of tail-ism. (P.
281.)
p. 449
325 To benefit Menshevism and harm the Bolshevism by factional activity,

Plekhanov ascribed Blanquism to Lenin in 1905. He opposed the deci-
766
NOTES
sions of the Third Congress of tho R .S .D .L .P on the necessity for eta!

lishing a revolutionary-democratic dictatorship of the workers and ripa*"
sants, lim iting the tasks of the First Russian Revolution to the estahl
lishment of a bourgeois-democratic parliamentary republic. Lenin, on the
other hand, regarded the creation and the work of the Provisional revo
lutionary government as the most important condition for the passing
of the bourgeois-democratic revolution into the socialist revolution
p. 449
3:s Note 7 comes after Engels words: ...surreptitiously accepting materia
lism, while denying it before the world. (P. 347.)
p, 449
827 P. Holbach, The System of Nature or On the Laws of the Physical World
and the Spiritual World. (Systime de la nature ou Des Lois du. Monde
Physique et du Monde Moral, Par. M. Mirabeau, Premiere partie, Londres, 1781.)
p. 453
828 F. A. Lange, Geschichte des Materialismus und Kritik seiner Bedeutung In

der Gegenwart, 1866.
p. 453
328 Goethes Werke, Berlin, Ausgabe Gustav Humpel, T.2, S. 230.
p. 453.
880 Priestleys polemic with Price was recorded in a book published in
London in 1778, D. Priestley, A Free Discussion on the Doctrines of Mate

rialism and Philosophical Necessity.
p. 454
381 I. N. Sechenov, Selected Philosophical and Psychological Works, Gospolitizdat Publishing House, 1947, pp. 350, 359.
p. 454
332 Plekhanovs articles against Schmidt are published in the second volumeof
this
edition.
p. 458
333 Poprishchina character in Gogols tale A Madman's Diary& minor
official with a mania for greatness. His name has become a symbol of
a maniac obsessed by delirious ideas.
p. 4ii0
834 In this case Plekhanov discloses a confusion of terms", Lenin points out.
(Collected Works, Vol. 14, p. 141.)
p. 460
886 Note 8 comes after Engels words: ...lim itation of classical French mate
rialism . (P. 349.)
p. 461
The dialectical-materialist solution of the question of the impermissibil

ity of glossing over the specific character of qualitatively different forms
of motion of matter, of the impermissibility of reducing these forms to one
of them was given by Engels. (Dialectics of Nature, Moscow, 1954, pp. 328,
332-33.)
p- 461
887 The System of Nature or On the Laws of the Physical World and the Spiri
tual World, Holbachs most important work, was published in Amster

dam in 1770 under the pseudonym of M. Mirabeau and with an imaginary
place of publication in London. For a long time it was ascribedto a group
of authors.
P- 46*
333 Note 9 follows Engels words: the complete idealist Hegel". (P. 352.)
p. 462
389 In Uspenskys series of tales Living Figures we find the words: There is
the kind of complicated thing sometimes hidden in statistic fractions.

You ponder and ponder these little ciphers, you do all sorts o f ca lc ula tio n s,
and suddenly a tear drops and smudges it all! (G. I. Uspensky, Collected
Works, Vol. X , Book 2, edition of the Academy of Sciences of the U.S.S.R-.
1954, p. 179.)
P- 46'*
340 c f. Hegel, Werke, Bd. I, Berlin, 1832, S. 349-59.
p. 465
767
NOTES
mi
End of Schillers The Philosopher", 1796.
p. 466
345 Ch. Darwin, The Origin of M an and Sexual Selection, Chapter V. The
attempt to transpose biological concepts to the domain of social science

was criticised by Lenin in Materialism and Empirio-Criticism. (Collected
Works, Vol. 14, pp. 328-29.)
p. 467
343 Cf. Hegel, Werke, Bd. I, Berlin, 1832, S. 105-106. The passage quoted by
Hegel is from Jacobi. (Jacobi, Werke, Bd. 3, S. 37-38.)
p. 468
314 Note 10 follows Engels words: a fact of which the history of feudalism
and of the bourgeoisie, for example, constitutes a single continual proof".

(P .
3 5 7 .)
p .
4 6 8
345 Note 11 follows Engels words: But, of course, this cannot be gone into
here. (P. 370.)
p. 46>
348 L. Morgan, Ancient Society or Researches in the Lines of Human Progress

from Savagery Through Barbarism to Civilisation, New York, 1878.
p. 469
347 Cf. H. Cunow, Die sotiale Verfassung des Inkareichs. Eine Untersuchung des
altperuanischen A grarkommunismus, Stuttgart, Dietz, 1896, and his article,

Les bases economiques du matriarcat published in the journal Le
devenir social, 1898, Nos. 1, 2 and 4.
p. 469
348 Lenin criticised Plekhanovs error on hieroglyphs in Materialism and

Empirio-Criticism. (Collected Works, Vol. 14, pp. 232-38.)
BO U R G E O IS
OF
DAYS
GONE
p. 474
BY
Plekhanov wrote Bourgeois of Days Gone By in connection with the

international proletarian holiday of May 1 for the French journal Le Socialiste.
It was published in No. 135 of that journal, April 23, 1893, under the title
Les bourgeois d'autrefois . In Russian it was first published in Plekhanovs
Works after his death.
In the present edition it is given according to the text of the Works (19231927) checked with the French edition of the article in Le Socialiste.
349 See Claude-Adrien Helvetius, De Vhomme, de ses facultSs intellectuelles

et de son iducation.
p. 477
330 Ib id .
p. 477
351 Ibid.
p. 477
**= Ibid.
p. 478
343 Ibid.
p. 478
THE DEVELOPMENT
OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O RY
When first written for illegal publication, Plekhanovs The Development

of the Monist View of History, the best of his Marxist works, was given the
title Our Differences, Part II. However, as the opportunity presented itself
of publishing the book legally, the original title was discarded, for it would
have immediately revealed the identity of the author. (See Note to the pre
sent edition of Our Differences, pp. 744-45)
Under the title The Development of the Monist View of History, the book
Hppeared in January 1895, the author using the pseudonym Beltov.
The history of this book has become recently clear from early versions kept
in the Plekhanov archives, from proofs printed abroad which have been found
NOTES
768
and from other materials which were previously not known of. ( The Literuru
Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV.)
It is not without interest to note that tho first chapter of the book which
Plekhanov wrote was the concluding one, dealing with the applicability ol
Marxism to Russia and with Marxs own views on the subject, disclosed in
his famous letter to the editorial board of Otechestvenniye Zapiski. An exami
nation of the Plekhanov archives brought to light two original versions of
this chapter which seem from all available data to have been written at the
end of 1892 for publication in a legal journal. Plekhanov wished to publish it
in Severny Vestnik, but was unable to do so. In one version the title is Straiigp
Misunderstanding, and in the other Slight Misunderstanding . The chapler
was not published at the time and did not appear in print until after the
authors aeath, in The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV, 1937,
The Development of the Monist View of History is here printed according
to the text of the seventh volume (1925) of Plekhanovs Works (1923-27).
checked for the present publication with the first edition of 1895 and Ihe
second of 1905.
aM The proximity of the 1905 Revolution allowed the second edition of the
book to be published in Russia and therefore it did not appear abroad.
At this time (1904) the main opponent, Mikhailovsky, against whom
Ilekhanov's polemic shafts were directed in the first place, died. Both
the second odition in 1905 and the third in 1906 appeared without substan
tial alterations. Meanwhile the need had arisen to make additions to the
first edition, as Plekhanov mentioned in his letter of February 1), 1904,
to the Bern group for promoting the work of the R .S .D .L .P . (The Lttcraru
Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV , 1937, p. 203.) An interesting document
was found in the archives, namely, a succinct draft of such additions and
a number of hints intended perhaps to be developed in Beltov\s book.
This document was deciphered and published in The Literary Legacy nj
G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV , pp. 203-36. Some of these additions are given
in the following commentary.
P- 480
945 See Note on p. 778 of this volume to the article "A Few Words to Onr
Opponents.
P- 480
356 Husskoye Bogatstvo (Russian Wealth) a monthly magazine published in
St. Petersburg, from 1876 to 1918. The organ of the Liberal Narodniks
since the early nineties, it waged a bitter struggleagainst Marxism.
N. K. Mikhailovsky was one of its editors.
p. 48c
357 The reference is to N. Kudrins article On the Heights of Objective
Truth , a review of Beltovs book printed in RusskoyeBogatstvo,

No. 5.
1895, pp. 144-70.
P- 4
aM The quotations here and further are from N. K. Mikhailovsky's article in
Russkoye Bogatstvo No. 1. 1894. One of his customary reviews which were
printed in the magazine under the general title Literature and Life .
it was among the first articles in which the Liberal Narodniks opened
their campaign against the Marxists.
P- 48y v . (Vorontsov)s symposium Conclusions from an Economic I nvestigation
of Russia According to Zemstvo Statistics, Vol. I, The Village Commune.
appeared in 1892.
PAugustin Thierry, History of the Conquest of England by the Normans,
London, 1841, pp. 67, 68.
P- a
Ml Condorcet develops these thoughts in his Esquisse d'un tableau histortqu*
des progres de I'esprit humain, t. 1-2, l'aris,1794, towhich Plekhanov
repeatedly refers also in other works.
P-
NOTES
769
342 F. Arnaud, l'abbe, Discours, prononce dans VAcademie franfaise le 13 mai

1771 a la reception de M . l'abbe Arnaud, Paris, 1771.
p. 506
343 The author of the Comments on M ill is N. G. Chernyshevsky, who devoted
a number of pages to criticism of Malthusianism. (Cf. N. G. Chernyshev

sky, Collected Works, Vol. IX , Goslitizdat Publishing House, 1949,
pp. 251-334.)
p. 510
364 For the first time Mikhailovsky used the
term heroesand crowd in his

article of the same title which he wrote in 1882. (Cf. N. K . Mikhailovsky,
Collected Works, Vol. II, St. Petersburg, 1907, pp.95-190.)
p. 510
385 Goethe, Faust, Part I.
p.
515
360 Sovremennik (Contemporary)& political, scientific and literary monthly
founded by A. S. Pushkin. It was published in St. Petersburg from 1836

to 1866. From 1847 it came out under the editorship of N. A. Nekrasov
and I. I. l anayev. Among its contributors were the outstanding figures of
Russian revolutionary democracy V. G. Belinsky, N. G. Chernyshevsky,
N. A. Dobrolyubov and M. Y . Saltykov-Shchedrin. Sovremennik was
the most progressive magazine of its time, the mouthpiece of the Rus
sian revolutionary democrats. It was suppressed by the tsarist government
in 1866.
p. 518
387 The reference is made to N. G. Chernyshevsky.

^
p.
518
This is a slightly changed phrase from the Manifesto issued by Nicholas

I in 1848 in connection with the revolutions in Vienna, Paris and Berlin.
The original phrase read: Hear, O tongues and be stilled, since tho Lord
Himself is with us. The Manifesto was intended to restrain the liberal
elements of Russian society and to intimidate revolutionary Europe.
p. 520
369 Shchedrinpen-name of M. Y . Saltykov (1829-1889), great Russian sati
rist and revolutionary democrat. The words of a Moscow historian

freely rendered by G. V. Plekhanov (Shchedrin mentions Mstislav and
Rostislav) are borrowed from Shcherdins Modern Idy ll which describes
the feuds of Russian dukes in tho twelfth and thirteenth centuries.j p. 522
370 As formulated by Mikhailovsky, dualism maintained the existence of
two truths"the truth of verity, i.e., what actually is, and the truth
of justicewhat ought to be.
p. 522
3,1 Doctrinairesa group of moderate bourgeois liberals who played a pro
minent role in the political life of France during the Restoration. Tney
were bitter opponents of democracy and the Republic. They rejected the
very principles of the revolution and its legitimacy but recognised the
new civil order, i.e., the new bourgeois economic system.
p. 524
372 Quotation from Nekrasovs poem Who Lives W ell in Russia, Part 2.
Chap. IV.
p. 526
373 The Peasant Bank, on which the Liberal Narodniks placed their hopes,
was instituted by the tsarist government in 1882, allegedly to help the

peasants to buy land. In actual fact, it favoured the nobility, inflated
prices on the landed gentrys estates and was a means of im planting and
consolidating kulak elements in the countryside.
p. 527
371 A paraphrase of a line from Nekrasovs Knight for an Hour. The relevant
passage reads:
From the jubilant crowd of idlers

Whose hands are stained with blood.
49-01329
NOTES
770
Lead me on to the camp oj fighters

For the great cause oj love!
p 527
875 Nikolaion (Danielson)a Russian Narodnik who was the first to trans
late Marxs Capital into Russian, as a result of which he got the undeserved
reputation of being a Marxist. The first volume of Capital, which he
translated with Hermann Lopatin, appeared in 1872, the second in 1885
and the third in 1896. In consequence a lively correspondence arose bev
tweon N ikolaion and Marx and Engels.
p, 523
378 Le Producteur (The Producer)organ of the Saint-Simonists, was pub
lished in Paris in 1825-26. It was founded by Saint-Simon not long before

he died and was edited by his followers Bazard, Enfantin, Rodriguez and
others. The magazine had as epigraph:
L fige dor, quune aveugle tradition a placfijusqu'ici dans le pass6,
est devant nous.
p. 530
377 Globeorgan of the Saint-Simonists after 1831, wasfounded by Pierre

Leroux in 1824.
p. 530
378 Russkaya Mysl (Russian Thought)a monthly of a Liberal Narodnik
trend. Started publication in 1880.
p. 534
379 A line from the unfinished poem Ilya Muromets by N. M. Karamzin
(1786-1826).
p. 530
330 On this Goethe wrote in Wahrheit und Dichtung (Truth and Poetry):
Forbidden books, doomed to be burned, which caused such an uproar

at the time, had no influence whatever on us. As an example I shall cite
Syst'eme de la Nature, which we acquainted ourselves w itn out of curi
osity. We could not understand how such a book could be dangerous: it
seemed to us so gloomy, so Cimmerian, so deathlike, that it was diffi
cult for us to endure it and we shuddered at it as at a spectre."
p. 539
081 Quotation from Faust by Goethe.
p. 530
s*2 The Battle of Marathon, in which the Athenians beat the Persians in
490 B. C., predetermined the favourable outcome of tho Second GreekPersian War for the Greeks and promoted the prosperity of the Athenian
democracy.
p. 547
N. G. Chernyshevsky, Collected Works, Vol. I l l , Goslitizdat Publishing
House, 1947, p. 208.
p. 548
,4 N. G. Chernyshevsky, Criticism of Philosophical Prejudices Against
Communal Land Tenure. (Cf. Collected Works, Vol. V, Goslitizdat
Publishing House, 1950, p. 391.)
p. 548
385 In a letter to Botkin dated March 1, 1841, Belinsky jokingly referred to
Hegel as Yegor Fyodorovich, the Russian form of Georg Friedrich:

No thank you. Yegor Fyodorovich, with all due respect for your philo
sophical cap; let me inform you, with all respect for your philosophical
philistinism, that if I did succeed in reaching the top of the evolution
ladder, I would demand even there an account from you of all the victims
of the conditions of life and history, of a ll the victims of accident, su
perstition, the Inquisition, P hilip II, etc., etc.: otherwise I will throw
myself headlong from the top rung. (Cf. V. G. Belinsky, Selected Letters,
Vol. 2, Goslitizdat Publishing House, 1955, p. 141.)
p. 552
** The article by Mikhailovsky from which this and the following quotation
are taken, On Dialectical Development and the Triple Formulae of
Progress , was included in his Collected Works, Vol. V II, St. Petersburg,
1909, p p . 758-80.
P- 55,1
771
NOTES
337
F. Engels, Anti-Diihring, Moscow,1969, pp. 162-63.
p. 554
SH8
Lines from Offenbachs operettaLa BelleM iln e (text by Meilhac

H al 6vy).
and
p. 555
3 *9
Somewhat changed words of a character from A. Griboyedovs Wit Works

Woe.
p. 556
390
The reference is to what Engels says about Rousseau in Chapter X I I I of

Anti-Diihring.
p. 556
8*1
Mikhailovskys article "Karl Marx Before the Judgement of Mr. Y . Zhu

kovsky was printed in Otechestvenniye Zapiski, 1877, No. 10. (Cf.
N. K . Mikhailovsky, Collected Works, Vol. IV , St. Petersburg, 1909,
pp. 165-206.)
p. 559
392
F. Engels, Anti-Diihring, Moscow, 1969, p. 170.
p. 560
3#3
F. Engels, Anti-Diihring, Moscow, 1969, pp. 31, 29-30.
p. 560
304
The first complete Russian edition of Anti-Diihring appeared in 1904.

p. 561
395
Hegel wrote in the Preface to his Philosophy of Law: When philosophy
begins to paint in grey colours on the grey background of reality its
youth cannot be restored, il can only be cognized; Minerva's owl flies only
at night.
Plekhanov speaks of these propositions of Hegel in his article For
the Sixtieth Anniversary of Hegels Death (see pp. 401-26 of this volume).
p. 562
3 Leibniz, Essais de Theodicie. In the book: Die philosophischen Schriften
von Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Bd. 6 , Berlin, 1885, S. 130.
p. 563
397
Cf. B. Spinoza, Letter to G. G. Schuller, October 1674, in Spinozas"
Correspondence.
p. 563
JO B
Cf. F. W . J. Schelling, System des transzendentalen Idealismus, Hamburg,

1957, S. 271.
p. 566
399
Hegel develops these thoughts in his Philosophy of History.
p. 568
400
Plekhanov has Marx in mind. The quotation given lower is

Holy Family, Moscow, 1956, pp. 78-80.
from The
p. 569
<01
Cf. Schelling, Ideen zu einer Philosophie der Natur, Landshut, 1803,

S. 223.
p. 571
See Hegel, The Philosophy of History.
p. 571
402
403
At one time Mikhailovsky contributed to Otechestvenniye Zopiski, of

which Shchedrin was an editor (from 1868 to 18S4).
p. 572
404
Historical Letters were written by P. L. Lavrov and published in St.'Peters

burg in 1870 under the pen-name of P. L. Mirtov.
' p . 576
105
K . Marx and F. Engels, The Holy Family, Moscow, 1956, pp. 115-17.
p. 578
116
K . Marx and F. Engels, The Holy Fam ily, Moscow, 1956, p. 21.
107
Suzdalfrom Suzdal locality in old Russia where icon painting was

widespread. Icon prints produced in Suzdal in great quantities were
cheap and inartistic. Hence, the adjective Suzdalhas come to denote
something that is cheap and inartistic.
p. 579
l(i*
p.
578
K. Marx. Preface to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy.

(Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973,
p. 503.)
p . 580
49*
772
NOTES
409 K . Marx, Wage Labour andt Capital. (Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels Alected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 159.)
p_ 532
410 K . Marx, Wage Labour and Capital. (Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels,
Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, pp. 159-60.)
S e le c te d
p. jjgg
411 Ch. Darwin, The Descent of Man, London, 1875, p. 51.

p. 533
412 Plekhanovs reference is to Martius book Von dem Rcchtszustande unter
den Ureinwohnern Brasiliens, Miinchen, 1832.
p. 534
413 K . Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Moscow, 1958, p. 513.
p. 585
414 Plekhanov develops these thoughts far more fully in additions not includ
ed in the second edition. (Cf. The Literary Legacy of G. V.
Coll. IV , 1937, p. 209.)
Plekhanov
p. 589
415 L. Morgan, Ancient Society or Researches in the Lines of Human Progress

from Savagery Through Barbarism to Civilization, New York, 1878.
p. 589
41* Plekhanovs posthumous article against Weisengrun, one of the early

critics of Marx, is to be found in The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov,
Coll. V, pp. 10-17.
p. 589
417 The historical school of law was a reactionary trend in
German
jurisprudence at the end of the 18th century and in the first half of tho
19th century defending feudalism and feudal monarchy against the con
ception of state law advanced by the FrenchRevolution. Its chief repre
sentatives were Hugo, Savigny and Puchta.
p. 593
418 In the work mentioned by Plekhanov, Kovalevsky quotes a book by the

well-known French jurist Lerminier. (P. 54.)
p. 59J
419 The reference is to H . R ink's Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo with
a Sketch of Their Habits, Religion, Language and Other Peculiarities,

Edinburgh and London, 1875.
p. 601
420 K . Marx and F. Engels, Preface told Contribution to the Critique of Polit
ical Economy. (Cf. Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 503.)
p. 005
421 K . Marx, Capital, Vol. I, Moscow, 1958, p. 177.

p. 007
422 K . Marx and F. Engels, Preface to A Contribution to the Critique of Polit
ical Economy. Cf. Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow,1973, p. 503.
p. 60S
423 F. Engels, Karl Marx, A Contribution to the Critique of Political Econo
my". (Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973,
pp. 503-04.)
p. 609
424 Plekhanov here refers to L. I. Mechnikov's book La civilisation et les
grands fleuves historiques. Avec une preface de M. Elisee Reclus, Paris,

1889.
P- 610
458 Plekhanov refers to Paul Barths objections to Marx in Die Geschichtsphi-
losophie Hegels und der Ilegelianer bis auf Marx und Hartmann, Leipzig.
1890, S. 49-50.
P- 6)1
428 Word and Deed of His Majestythe conventional name for tsarist polit
ical police method in the Russian Empire in the 18th century. To ?a>'
word and deed meant to report high treason.
P- ^
427 Quotation from N. I. Kareyevs Economic Materialism in History

Vestnik Yevropy, Ju ly 1894, p. 7.
P-
428 K . Marx, The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. Cf. K . Marx and
F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973,
p.421.
773
NOTES
4 Lamarck, Zoological Philosophy, Vol. 1, Ch. V II, in E llio ts translation.

London,
1914, pp.
107-08.
p. 022
430 Quotation from Marxs The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte.

Cf. K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected WorA-s, Vol.
p. 400.
431
1, Moscow, 11173,
P- 623
The reference is to the tragedies of Sumarokov, Knyazhnin, Kheraskov

and other Russian dramatists of the 18th century.
p. (127
432 The Glorious Revolution"the English revolution of 1688-89; the

Great Rebellion" the French revolution at the end of the 18th cen
tury.
p. 628
433 A ll editions contain
the
mistake:
Pseudo-classical
ture.
English litera
p. 628
434
The New Christianity was written by Saint-Simon.
435
Quotation from A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of

Law. Introduction.
p. 635
436
Quotation from Chernyshevsky's dissertation Aesthetic Relations of Art

and Reality. (N. G. Chernyshevsky, Selected Philosophical Essays, Mos
cow, 1953, pp. 287-88.)
p. H38
437
Quotation from Nekrasovs poem New Year.
138
Quotation*from Marxs first thesis on Feuerbach. Cf. Iv. Marx and F, En

gels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 13.
p. 642
p. 632
p. 639
xo Chatskya character in Griboyedovs comedy Wit Works Woe.

Chatsky personifies the progressive section of Russian noble youth in
the first quarter of the 19th century. He is a man of lofty ideals and
advanced views.
p. 643
440
441
Skalozubai character in Griboyedovs comedy Wit IVorArs Woe, an

ignorant and presumptious officer, enemy of free thinking.
p. 643
In the new edition Plekhanov intended to make clear this passage, which
had been intentionally obscured because of the censorship. Among the
additions preserved in the archives which lie did not make use of, the
following remark applies to this passage: Skalozub stands for censorship.
This should be explained by what happened lo the same Beltov or Col
lection, Novoye Slovo and Nachalo." This list includes editions which
suffered from persecution by the censorship: the book of Beltov (Plekha
nov) The Development of the Monist View of History, the first edition of
which was quickly sold out and besides confiscated from libraries, could
not be republished for ten years, until 1905; the Marxist symposium Materi
al for a Characterisation of Our Economic Development, printed in 1895,
was held up for a year and a half by the censorship nna then the whole
edition was burned, except for a few copies which were fortuitously
preserved; the magazine Novoye Slovo (New Word) was suppressed in
December 1897; the magazine Nachalo (Beginning), its successor in 1899,
was prohibited at the fifth issue. Thus, Marxists were almost without any
legal publication while the Narodniks enjoyed almost entire liberty in
this respect.
p.* 643
U2 The reference is to the Communist Manifesto by K . Marx and F. Engels.
p. 644
443
In the unpublished supplement Plekhanov makes the following comment
on this passage: People did not understand that it was impossible to
recognise Marx's economic views while denying his historic views: Capital
is also an historical study. Many Marxists also failed to understand
774
NOTES
Capital properly. The fate of Volume Three was that Struve, Bulgakov
Tugau-Baranovsky distorted Marxs economic theories." (The Literary
Legacy of G. V. Pleknanov, Coll. IV , p. 223.)
p. 644
444 This refers to the famous letter Marx wrote to the editors of Otechestven-
niye Zapiski at tho end of 1877 about an article by one of the editors of the
magazine, N. K. Mikhailovsky, Karl Marx Before the Judgement of
Mr. Zhukovsky. (Otechestvenniye Zapiski, No. 10, 1877). The letter was
not sent and was found by Engels in Marxs papers after his death. It
was published in Vestnik Narodnoi Voli, 1886, No. 5 and in the legal
Yuridichesky Vestnik No. 10, 1888. The letter was usually wrongly called
the letter to Mikhailovsky, although in it Marx only speaks of Mikhai
lovsky in the third person. (Cf. Correspondence of K . Marx and F. Engels
with Russian Political Figures, Gospolitizdat Publishing House, 1951
pp. 220-23.)
In his letter Marx protests against the distortion of his views, against
the desire to turn his historical sketch of the genesis of capitalism in
Western Europe into an historico-philosophical theory of the general
path every people is fated to tread, whatever the historical circumstances
in which it finds itself.... It was this passage in the letter that the
Narodniks seized upon, interpreting it as a justification of their hopes
for a peculiar way of development for Russia. (Cf. N. K . Mikhailovsky,
Collected Works. Vol. V II, St. Petersburg, 1909, p. 327; also in the pres
ent edition, Note 465.)
p. 645
445 Marx speaks of the French materialists of the 18th century in The Holy
Family, in the section Critical Battle Against French Materialism of

the chapter Absolute Criticism's Third Campaign and also in The Ger
man Ideology,
p. 645
440 In 1892, Mikhailovsky wrote in Russkaya Mysl, No. 6 , p. 90, that Marx's
philosophical theory is expounded in the sixth chapter of Capital under

the modest title So-Called Primitive Accumulation . (Cf. N. K . Mikhai
lovsky, Collected Works, Vol. V II, St. Petersburg, 1909, p. 321.)
p. 646
447 From the Russian soldiers song which derided Russian incapable gen
erals (General Read among them) during the Crimean War (1853-56).
The author of the song is Lev Tolstoi, then an officer in the field,
p. 050
448 The reference is to W ilhelm Bios book Die deutsche Revolution. Geschichte
der deutschen Bewegung von 1848 und 1849, Berlin, 1923.
p. 651
449 In Gleb Uspenskys tale Budka (The Sentry Post), an old man whose
job is to supply a small wandering orchestra with strings proudly says
that his strings are expensive, not some rotten trash, because lie cannot
have it any other way: If I can breathe only with the strings" (if my
only means of living is by strings), I must make sure thatthey give out
a fine sound."
p. 653
480 Characterising Balzacs work in a letter to Margaret Harkness at the
beginning of April 1888, Engels wrote that from Balzacs novels he
even in economic details... has learned more than from all the pro
fessed historians, economists and statisticians of the period together.
K . Marx and F. Engels, Selected Correspondence, Moscow, 1965, p. 402.
This passage is commented as follows by Plekhanov: G. Uspensky can
be safely placed alongside Balzac in this respect. His Power of the Soil.
See my article G. I. Uspensky in the collection Sotsial-Dcmokrat.
(The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV , p. 224.) In Plekha
novs Works his article on Uspensky is in Vol. X .
p. 653
461 The quoted words are taken from Pushkins draft copy of one of the chap
ters in Eugene Onegin.
p. 655
775
NOTES
453 Morgans book was published in 1877.
p.
655
463 Engels speaks of this in the preface to his book Ludwig Feuerbach and the
End of Classical German Philosophy, dated February 21, 1888. Cf. K . Marx
and F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 3, Moscow, 1970, pp. 335-36.
p. 655
154 From I. A. Krylovs fable Tomtit.
p. G57
4115 Plekhanov quotes Mars's eighth thesis on Feuerbach. Cf. K. Marx and
F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 1, Moscow, 1973, p. 15.
p. 601
464 Goethe's last words.

p. 661
447 Y . Zhukovsky analyses Capital in his article Karl Marx and His Book on
Capital (Vestnik Yeuropy, 1877, Vol. 9.)
p.
663
468 Engels characterises Karl Heinzen as follows: Herr Heinzen is a former
liberal small official who as early as 1844 dreamed of progress within

the framework of the law and of a paltry German constitution. (K. Marx
and F. Engels, Gesamtausgabe, Erste Abt., Bd. 6 , S. 282-98.)[
p. 669
469 Here Plekhanov has in m ind articles by Marx and Engels against Heinzen
published in 1847 in the Deutsche-BrUsseler Zeitung. The paper carried two

articles by Engels: The Communists and Karl Heinzen , and one by
Marx: MoralisingCriticism and Critical Morality.
p. 669
The words of Engels quoted are taken from the following passage: Herr
Heinzen of course imagines that the relations of property, the right of
inheritance, etc., can be changed and trimmed into snape at ones own
convenience. Herr Heinzen, one of the most ignorant men of this century,
may not know of course that the relations of property at each given period
are the necessary result of this periods mode of production and inter
course." (Marx, Engels, Werke, Dietz Verlag, Berlin, 1969, Bd. 4,
S. 314.)
p. 669
401 The Liberal Narodniks accused the Marxists of being glad of the capital
isation of the countryside, of welcoming the painful separation of the

peasants from their lands and of being ready to promote this process by all
means at their disposal, hand in hand with the country kulaks and plun
derers, the heroes of primitive accumulation , the Kolupayevs and
Razuvayevs depicted in Saltykov-Shchedrins satirical work The Refuge
of Mon Repos
p. 670
4al Molchalinism from Molchalin (see Note 252).

p. 672
463 Plekhanov here refers to the preface of V. V . (V. P. Vorontsov) to the
collection of his articles Destinies of Capitalism in Russia, published in
1882. In that preface Vorontsov gives as the reason for reprinting his
articles the fact that he wishes to stir our learned and sworn publicists
of capitalism and Narodism to study the laws of Russia's economic de
velopment, the basis of all other phenomena in the lire of the country.
W ithout knowledge of this law, systematic and successful social activity
is impossible.(P. 1.)
p. 673
4M Quotation from S. N. Krivenkos article In Connection with Cultural
Recluses. (Russkoye Bogatstvo, December 1893, Section I I , p. 189.)
p. 673
466 In 1884 Engels sent Vera Zasulich a copy of Marxs letter. (The latter
had not been dispatched by
(copy) by Marx", ne wrote to
use as you deem best. I do
Otechestvenniye Zapiski where
Marx.) Enclosed herewith is a manuscript

her on March 6 . "of which please make such
not recall whether it was the Slovo or the
he found the article- Karl Marx Before the
776
NOTES
Judgement of Mr. Zhukovsky . He drew up this reply which bear:- the
imprint of something written for publication in Russia, but he never
sent it off to Petersburg for fear that his name alone would be sufficient
to jeopardise the existence of the journal that would publish his reply.
(K. Marx and F. Engels, Selected Correspondence, Moscow, 1 % 5
p. 370.)
p. 674
400
This and a number of the following quotations are from Marxs letter to
the editorial board of Otechestvenniye Zapiski. See Note 444.
p. 676
107
On the substance of the question Marxs thought comes to this: the village
commune may he the starting point of the communist development if
the Russian revolution serves as a signal for the proletarian revolution in
the West". Marx and Engels also expressed this thought in 1882 in the
Preface to the first Russian edition of the Manifesto of the Communist
Party. Still earlier Engels expressed the same thought in his articlo
Sozialos aus Russland' printed in 1875 in Volksstaat in reply to
P. N. Tkachov's Open Letter". (Cf. F. Engels, "On Social Relations in
Russia . K. Marx aud F. Engels, Selected Works, Vol. 2, Moscow, 1973,
pp. 387-98.)
By the nineties, however, it was already clear to Engels that the
village commune in Russia was rapidly disintegrating under the pressure
of developing capitalism. He mentioned this in a number of his works of
that time: The Foreign Policy of Russian Tsarism (1890), Socialism
in Germany" (1891), Can Europe Disarm? (1893), and others. Finally,
in 1894, in his Afterword to Reply to P. N. Tkachov", he wrote:
Has this village commune still survived to such an extent that at the
required moment, as Marx and I still hoped in 1882, it could, combined
with a revolution in Western Europe, become the starting point of com
munist developmentof this I w ill not undertake to judge. But of one
thing there is no doubt; for anything at all of this commune to survive,
lirst of all tsarist despotism must be overthrown, there must be a revolu
tion in Russia." (K. Marx and F. Engels, Correspondence with Russian
Political Figures, Russ, ed., 1951, p. 297.)
p. 676
1(8 K Marx, The Poverty of Philosophy.
p. 676
400
Chernyshevsky developed his view on the concreteness of truth in

Sketches of the Gogol Period in Russian Literature. (N. G. Chernyshevsky,
Collected Works, Vol. I l l , Goslitizdat Publishing House, 1947.)
p. 677
470
Marx says Jthis in his letter to the editorial board of Otechestvenniye

Zapiski. (Cf."K. Marx and F. Engels, Correspondence with Russian Politi
cal Figures, Russ, ed., 1951, p. 221.)
p. 677
471
Plekhanov does not quote the exact words of K. Marx. Below we give
the French original and the exact translation of this passage:
Si la Russie tend a devenir une nation capitaliste, a linstar des
nations de l Europe occidentalet pendant les dernieres annees el le s'est
donnee beaucoup de mal dans ce senselle ny reussira pas sans avoir
prealableinent transforme une bonne partie de ses paysans en proletaires; et apres cela, une fois amenee au giron du regime capitaliste, elle en
subira les lois impitoyables, comme dautres peuples profanes. Voila
tout. Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Ausgewdhlte Briefe, Berlin, 1953.
(If Russia is tending to become a capitalist nation after the example
of West European countriesand during the last few years she has been tak
ing a lot of trouble in this directionshe will not succeed without
having first transformed a good part of her peasants into proletarians;
and after that, once taken to the bosom of the capitalist regime, she will
NOTES
777
experience its pitiless laws like other prolane peoples. That is all."
K . Marx and F. Engols, Selected Correspondence, Moscow, 1965, p. 313).
p. 678
473 One of the most popular Russian proverbs: The nightingale is not. fed on
fablesfine words butter no parsnips.
473
p. 681
plekhanov wanted to make the following addition to this passage: Here

1have in mind the activity of the Social-Democrats. It has promoted the
development of capitalism by removing antiquated modes of production,
for instance home industry. The attitude of Social-Democracy in the
West to capitalism is briefly defined by the following words of Bebel at
the Breslau Congress of the Party (1895): I always ask myself whether
a given step w ill not harm the development of capitalism. If it w ill,
1 am against it...." ( The Literary Legacy of G. F. Plekhanov, Coll. IV,
p. 229.)
p. 685
474 See Note 407.
p. 685
175 In G. Uspenskys tale Nothing", from his series Living Figures, a peas
ant who pays for nothing, i.e., pays tax on land he does not cultivate, is
quite convinced that to pay for nothing is far better than to cultivate
his allotment.
p. 685
47a P. Y . Chaadayev said this in his first Philosophical Letter. (P .Y . Chaadayev, Philosophical Letters, Russ, ed., Moscow, 1906, p. 11.)
p. 686
477 From Nekrasovs poem "Meditations at the Main Entrance.
p. 686
478 In Tolstois War and Peace.
p. 686
478 Plekhanov intended to give the following explanation of these words:
i.e., I mean socialist". (The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV,

p. 230.)
p. 687
48 Friedrich List, a German economist, and ideologist of the German indus

trial bourgeoisie when capitalism was still weak in Germany, put spe
cial emphasis on the development of the productive forces of the separate
national economies. For this he considered it neccssary to have the co
operation of the state (e.g., protective tariffs on industrial goods), p. 687
181 Plekhanov has the following remarks on this passage: Concerning N.
on. What was his principal mistake? He had a poor understanding of the
law of value . He considered it statically, not dynamically.... What Engels
said on the possibility of error in Struve and N .on. (The Literary Leg
acy of G. V. Plekhanov, Coll. IV , pp. 230-31.)
On February 26, 1895, Engels wrote to Plekhanov: "As for Danielson
(N .on). I m afraid nothing can be done about h im .... It is quite im
possible to argue with the generation of Russians to which he belongs
and which still bolieves in tho spontaneous communist mission that dis
tinguishes Russia, the truly holy Russia, from the other, profane, nations."
(K. Marx and F. Engols, Correspondence with Russian Political Figures,
Russ, ed., 1951, p. 341.)
p. 692
*<!! Plekhanov here refers to S. N. Krivenkos article On the Needs of Peo

ples Industry, tho end of which was printed in No. 10 of Russkoye Bogatstvo, 1894.
p. 697
NOTES
778
ONCE A G A IN Mr. M IK H A ILO V S K Y ,

ONCE M O RE THE T R IA D
This appendix (Once Again M r. Mikhailovsky, Once More the Triad")
was given in tho very first edition of the book The Development of the Monist
View of 11islory.
488 In the review Literature and Life, (On Mr. P. Struve and his Critical
Remarks on the Subject of Russias Economic Development'), Russkoye

Bogatslvo, 1894, No. 10. (N. K . Mikhailovsky, Collected IVorfcs, Vol. V II.
St. Petersburg, 1909, pp. 885-924.)
p. 69S
481 G. Uspenskys talo The Incurable is from the series New Times, New
Troubles,
p. 70u
ts5 Quotation from Belinskys Letter to Botkin, March 1,1841, See Note 385.
p. 702
484 Struves Critical Remarks on the Subject of Russia's Economic Develop
ment was tho object of profound criticism by V. I. Lenin in his Economic

Content of Narodism and the Criticism of I t in M r. Struve's Book published
in 1894. Lenin exposed the liberal views of Struve and advanced the
viewpoint of tho revolutionary Marxism. Struves call to go into training
by capitalism was defined by Lenin as a purely bourgeois slogan,
p. 704
487 In a letter to P. V. Annenkov on February 15 (27), 1848, Belinsky wrote:
When, arguing w ith you about the bourgeoisie, I called you a conser
vative, I was a real ass and you were a clever m an.... Now it is clear that
the internal process of Russias civil development w ill not begin before
the time when the Russian nobility are transformed into bourgeois.
(V. G. Belinsky, Selected Letters, Vol. 2, Goslitizdat Publishing House,
1955, p. 389.)
p. 704
488 Krivenko wrote about P. Struves book Critical Remarks on the Subject
of Russia's Economic Development which was published in 1894, in the

afterword to his article On the Needs of Peoples Industry. (Russkoye
Bogatstvo, 1894, No. 10, pp. 12G-30.)
p. 704
488 The heavenly bird S irin an image of a mythical heavenly bird with
a womans face and breast used in old Russian manuscripts and legends.
p. 704
This appendix is a reply to Mikhailovsky's article "Literature and Life

( The Development of the Monist View of History by N. Beltov) printed in No. 1
of Russkoye Bogatstvo, 1895. (Cf. N. K . Mikhailovsky, Collected Works,
Vol. V III, St. Petersburg, 1914, pp. 17-36.)
The article A Few Words to Our Opponents" was first published in 1895
under the signature of Utis in the Marxist symposium Material for a Charac
terisation of Our Economic Development (pp. 225-59) which was burned bvthe
censorship. The hundred copies which were preserved became bibliographical
rarities and the article was made accessible to the public only ten years
when it was included as an appendix in the second edition of the book The
Development of the Monist View of History.
The article is here printed according to the text of the seventh volume
of Plekhanovs Works (1923-27). The text has been checked with the manu
script which is preserved complete in the Plekhanov archives, with toe
first publication of the symposium Material for a Characterisation of Our
Economic Development an<J with the second edition of The D e v e l o p m e n t of
the Monist View of History in which it was included as the second appendix-
NOTES
779
480 From the ballad Potok-Bogatyr by A. K . Tolstoi. (Cf. Collected Poems,

published by Sovietsky Pisatel Publishing House, 1937, p. 288.) p. 707
401 From Ovids Metamorphoses.
p. 707
492 Excerpt from Pushkins epigram Cruelly Oflended by Journals...."

(A. S. Pushkin, Collected Works in 10 volumes, Vol. I l l , published by the
Academy of Sciences of the U .S.S.R ., 1949, p. 108.)
p. 708
483 The reviewer of Russkaya Mysl the liberal V. Goltsev. His short review,
quoted here by Plekhanov, was published in No. 1 of Rysskaya Mt/tl,

1895, pp. 8-9.
p. 708
4,4 From 1. A. Krylov's fable The Mouse and the R at".

485 See Hegel, EnzyklopSdie der
risse.
philosophischen Wissenschaften
p. 709
im Grundp. 711
454 Quotation from the same article by Mikhailovsky Literature and Life .
(Introductory Note.)
p. 712
497 The reference is to the satirical section of the magazine Sovremennik,
"Svistok (Whistle) (1859-63). One of the main contributors to this sec
tion was Dobrolyubov, who wrote under the pen-name Konrad Lilienschwager.
p. 712
488 Lyapkln-Tyapkin a personage in Gogols comedy Inspector-General, p. 712
4* N. Siebers article The Application of Dialectics to Science was signed
N. S. and published in Slovo, 1879, No. 11, pp. 117-69.
p. 713
600 Histoire de dix ansa work in five volumes written by Louis Blanc in
1841-44. In it the author severely criticises the policy of the Orleanist
Government in France and depicts the economic and social relations in
the ten years from 1830 to 1840. Engels assessed this book very
highly.
p. 718
601 The planned supplement to the second edition was slightly altered in form:
On now Louis Blanc urged the reconciliation of the classes. In this respect
he cannot be compared with Guizot who was irreconcilable. Mikhailovsky
evidently read only Histoire de dix ans". (The Literary Legacy of G. V. Ple
khanov, Coll. IV, p. 233.)
p. 719
602 Quoted from Hegel. In unpublished additions to the present article we
find the following lines: To page 22, reverse, appendix I. Give a more
exact quotation from the first part of Hegels EnzyklopSdie. In all prob
ability these words apply to the passage in question. The more exact
quotation from Hegel is apparently 80 and in particular the addition
to it in which the dialectical and metaphysical methods of thought are
characterised,
p. 720
603 The author of this book, published anonymously in 1841, was Bruno
Bauer.
p. 721
604
There is the following addition to this passage: "Refer to our illegal

literature.^ which N .on cannot have been ignorant of. It was not honest
to act as if it did not exist, knowing that the censorship will not allow
illegal books to be quoted." (The Literary Legacy of G. V. Plekhanov,
Coll. IV, p. 234.)
p. 731
305 Plekhanov here has in mind the works of Russian economists and statis
ticians: The Pokrovsk and Alexandrovsk Uyezds by S. Kharizomenov
(in the book Industries in the Vladimir Gubernia, Issue 3, Moscow, 1882),
780
NOTES
South-Russian Peasant Economy by V. Y . Postnikov(Moscow, 1891) and
The Urals Cossack Troops. Statistical Description in TwoVolumes bv
N. A. Borodin (Uralsk, 1891).
p. 732
804 A ll the quotations made by Plekhanov here are from N .ons article
What is Economic Necessity? which was published in No. 3 of Russkoye
Bogatstvo, 1895.
p. 733
507 The article by N ikolaion Apologia of the Power of Money as the Sign of
the Times was published in Nos. 1 and 2 of Russkoye Bogatstvo, 1885

p. 736
508 From Krylovs fable The Hermit and the Bear.
p. 736
INDEXES
NAME INDEX
A
Adler, Georg (1863-1908), German
bourgeois economist447, 472
Adler, Victor (1852-1918), reform
ist, leader of Austrian SocialDemocracy472
Aeschylus (525-456 B.C.), poet of
Ancient Greece, father of the
tragedy423, 623
Aksakov, Ivan Sergeyevich (182386), Russian publicist, promi
nent representative of Slavophil
ism 150-52, 189, 391, 392
Alexander I , Emperor of Russia
(1801-25) 379, 386
Alexander I I , Emperor of Russia
(1855-81) 122, 145, 154, 209,
211, 342, 378, 382, 383, 390, 391
Alexander I I I , Emperor of Russia
(1881-94)93, 94, 378, 387
Anaxagoras (c. 500-428 B.C.), phi
losopher of Ancient Greece417
Archimedes (c. 287-212 B.C.)587,
588
Archytas of Tarentum (c. 440360 B.C.), Greek philosopher,
idealist, Pythagorean, scientist
and statesman587
Aristophanes (c. 446-385 B.C.), dra
matist of Ancient Greece, author
of satirical comedies on political
themes429
Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) 336, 546,
619, 656
Aristov, Nikolai Yakovlevich (183482), Russian historian, consider
ed schism in the Russian Church
and the fight against the new
church reforms to be a popular
movement 165
Arnaud, Francois (1721-84), French

writer and publicist, member of
French Academy505, 506
Arnoult, Arthur (1833-95), French
politician and writer, member
of the Paris Commune, 1871
283,
318, 319
Astafyev, Pyotr Yevgenyevich (184693)assistant-professor at Mos
cow University, idealist philos
opher427
Augustus Gaius Ju lius Caesar Octavianus, Roman emperor (27 B.C.14 A .D .) 627
Axelrod, Pavel Borisovich (18501928), one of founders of Eman
cipation of Labour group, later
Menshevik 116
B
Babst, Ivan Kondratyevlch (182481), Russian economist, author
of works on Russian economy
208
Bacon, Francis (1561-1626)560
Bakunin, M ikhail Alexandrovich
(1814-76), Russian public figure,
ideologist of anarchism, oppon
ent of Marxism, expelled from
the First International 59, 88,
114, 148-50, 152-54, 156, 161-63,
165, 168, 170, 173, 291, 303,
319 320 327
Balzac, Ho'nori de (1799-1850)653
Barth, P aul (1858-1922) reaction
ary German bourgeois publicist,
active opponent of M arxism 476, 611-13, 615
Bastiat, Frideric (1801-50), French
vulgar economist84
784
NAME IN D E X
Bauer, Bruno (1809-82), German

idealist philosopher, leader of
the Young Hegelians 401, 427,
435, 441, 443, 574, 576-78, 63941,
654, 702
Bauer, Edgar (1820-86), German
publicist, Young Hegelian443,
444,
574-77
Bazard, Saint-Amand (1791-1832),
French utopian socialist, disci
ple of Saint-Simon 500, 504
Belinsky,
Vissarion Grigoryevich
(1811-48)91, 364, 379, 430,
433, 434, 447, 552, 701, 708
Beltov, N . (pseudonym of Plekha
nov, G .V .)89, 708-23, 725-29,
731-36
Belyayev, Ivan Dmitriyevich (181073). Russian historian, Slavo
phile, professor of Moscow Uni
versity311
Berkeley, George (1684-1753), En
glish bishop, reactionary ideal
ist philosopher475, 483
Bernstein,
Eduard
(1850-1932),
leader of the extreme opportun
ist wing of German Social-Democracy and Second Interna
tional, theoretician of revision
ism79
Bezobrazov,
Vladimir
Pavlovich
(1828-89), Russian liberal, geo
grapher and economist233, 234
Bismarck, Otto (1815-98), Iron
Chancellor , German statesman
and diplom atist 202
Blanc, Louis (1811-82), French pet
ty-bourgeois socialist, historian,
active figure in the revolution of
1848718
Blanqui, Louis-Auguste (1805-81),
French revolutionary, utopian
communist, advocate of a revo
lution by a handful of conspira
tors 167, 168, 282, 332
Bios, Wilhelm (1849-1927), German
Social-Democrat,
opportunist,
pettv-bourgeois historian and
publicist651, 652
Bluntschll, Johann Kaspar (180881), Swiss jurist, representative
of reactionary organic school of
right726
Borne, Karl Ludwig (1786-1837),
German
bourgeois-democratic
thinker, author of Letters from
Paris706
Borodin, Nikolai Andreuevtch (born
1861),
Russian ichthyologist,
statistician and public figure_

311, 732
Borsig, Johann Karl Friedrich
(1804-54), big Gorman capital
ist-195
Bourbons, French royal dynasty
reigning in France from 1589
to 1792 and in 1814-15. 181530 528
Brandes, Georg (1842-1927), Dan
ish literary critic, represented
positivist aesthetics635
Brentano,
Lufo
(1844-1931),
German economist, represented
bourgeois school of KathederSozialismus" 75
Brunetiire, Ferdinand (1849-1906),
French literary critic, attempted
to apply methods of natural
sciences to history of literatu
re625, 626, 630, 631, 634-36
Brutus, Marcus Junius (85-42 B.C.),
Roman republican, headed con
spiracy against Caesar431
Brzozowski, A nton Josiphovtch (born
1847), Polish revolutionary, in
1867 made unsuccessful attempt
at life of Alexander 11332
Buhl, Ludwig (1814-early eighties),
German
radical
publicist,
Young Hegelian690-94, 696
Bulgarin,
Faddei
Venediktovich
(1789-1859), Russian reaction
ary writer and journalist, police
spy and informer 708
Buschen, Artur Bogdanovich (183176), Russian statistician218,
219
Biicher, Karl (1847-1930). German
bourgeois economist, adhered to
so-called historical school in po
litical economy470
BSchner, Georg (1813-37), German
dramatist, publicist and poli
tician, founder of secret society
of the Rights of Man (1834)
531, 607, 608
Buchner, Ludwig (1824-99), Ger
man physiologist, represented
vulgar materialism482, 608
C
Cabet, Etienne (1788-1856), French
utopian communist, author ot
Travels in Icaria508
Caesar, Gaius Julius (100-44 B.C.).
Roman emperor, prominent gen
NAME IN D E X
eral and statesman426, 430,
431, 658
Camphausen,
Ludolf
(1803-90),
Prussian bourgeois statesman,
Ministerprasident434
Carey, Henry Charles (1793-1879),
American vulgar economist
84
CarusSee Lucretius, Titus
Cassius Longinus, Gaius (1st cent.
B.C.), Roman politician, peo
ples tribune, initiator of con
spiracy, against Caesar431
Cato, Marcus Porcius the Elder
(234-149 B.C.), prominent poli
tician and writer in Ancient
Rome602
Catherine I I , Russian empress
(1762-96)378, 382. 385
Chaadayev,
Pyotr
Yakovlevich
(1794-1856), Russian enlightener
and idealist philosopher 155
Chateaubriand,
Francois
Renf
(1768-1848), French writer, head
ed
reactionary
romantics
636
Chatham, Earl. See Pitt, W illiam
(the Elder)
Charles X . King of France (182430), dethroned bv Ju ly Revolu
tion of 1830 139, 140
Cheops (3000 B.C.), Pharaoh of
Ancient Egypt 186
Chernyshevsky, Nikolai Gavrilovich
(1828-89) 131-36, 138-42, 144,
145, 162, 163, 164, 165, 180,
285, 335, 338, 379, 433, 547,
548, 637, 668
Cobden, Richard (1804-65), English
manufacturer and bourgeois econ
omist, advocated free trade,
founder of Anti-Corn-Law Lea
gue 65, 74
Cohen, Hermann (1842-1918), Ger
man philosopher, Neokantian
457
Colbert, Jean-Raptiste (1619-83),
French statesman, pursued pol
icy of mercantilism to strength
en
absolute
monarchy65,
199, 200
Comte, Auguste (1798-1857). French
bourgeois philosopher and so
ciologist, founder of positivism
512.
533, 534
Condorcet. Jean Antoine (1743-94),
prominent French bourgeois so
ciologist, enlightener. Girond
ist-505, 506, 509
V i 50-01329
785
Considirent,
Vic/or
f1808-93),
French utopian socialist, dis
ciple of Fourier509
Copernicus. Nicolaus (1473-1543)
60C, 607, 639
Corroyer,
Eduard
(1837-1904),
French architect and writer,
author of works o n 1history of
architecture636
Cousin, Victor (1792-1867), French
idealist philosopher, eclectic
667, 668
Cunow,
Heinrich
(1862-1936),
author of works on history of
primitive society, theoretician
of revisionism in German Social-Democracy469
Custine, Adolf (1790-1857), French
traveller and man of letters 379
Cuvier, Georges (1769-1832), promi
nent French naturalist, founder
of comparative anatomy and palaeonthology, author 'o f antiscientific theory of cataclysms
365-67, 371
Cychlinski, Franz (Szeliga) (18161900), Young Hegelian, con
tributor to periodicals published
by Bauer 640, 654 1
D
Dahlmann,
Friedrich
Christoph
(1785-1860), German bourgeois
historian and political figure of
liberal trend640
D Alembert, Jean le Rond (171783), French mathematician and
philosopher, member of En
cyclopaedists group694
Dameth, Claude Marie Henri (pseud
onym, Gorsse, Henri) (1812-84),
French publicist, professor of
political economy, Fourierist
509
Danielson, Nikolai Franzevich (pseu
donym, Nikolai on) (18441918), Russian writer, ideologist
of liberal Narodism of eighties
and nineties, translated Marxs
Capital Vol. I, in co-operation
with H. Lopatin235, 239, 240.
247. 268, 528-30. 692-94, 696,
728,
729, 733-36
Darwin. Charles Robert (1809-82)
66, 184, 467, 551, 579, 580,
583, 590, 60f>, 623, 643, 646-49,
655, 659, 727, 728
NAME IN D E X
786
David (ll-10th cent. B.C.), semilogendary Hebraic king467

Delyanov, Ivan Davydovich (181897), Minister of Public Educa
tion in Russia, 1882-97. Author
of reactionary circular prohibit
ing to admit to gymnasiums
children of cooks, coachmen,
petty shop-keepers380
Dementyev, Evstafy Mikhailovich
(1850-1918), Russian physician,
progressive public figure, author
of The Factory. What I I Gives to,
and What I t Takes from, the
Population, 1893 729-31
Derzhavin,
Gavriil
Romanovich
(1743-1816)276
Descartes, Reni (1596-1650)461,
462,
546, 560
Diderot, Denis (1713-84) 560, 635
Dobrolyubov, Nikolai Alexandrovich
(1836-61) 712
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor Mikhailovich
(1821-81)379
Dudevant,
Aurore
(pseudonym,
George Sand) (1804-76), famous
French novelist381
Du Chdtelet, Charles-Marie-Tannegny (1803-67), French journalist
and reactionary statesman81
Dumas, Alexandre (father) (180370), French writer, author of
historical novels630
Diihring, Karl Eugen (1833-1921),
German petty-bourgeois ideolo
gist, opponent of Marxism, was
subjected to severe criticism by
Engels in his Anti-Diihring
89, 90, 114, 706, 713, 714, 720
205, 207, 240, 270, 277

>83
284, 291, 319, 328, 330, 401
402, 427, 428, 430, 435, 443'
446, 447, 455, 459, 461-64, 468'
469, 472, 474, 529, 550,
552
554-57, 559-61, 578, 579, 589
592, 593, 610. 640, 652, 655
656,
669-72, 687, 688, 699. 706*
713-15, 720-22
Epaminondas (died 362 B.C.),
Greek statesman and general467
Erisman, Fyodor Fyodorovich (18-421915), hygienist, investigator in
sphere of school and professional
hygiene216, 218, 227
Ertel, Alexander Ivanovich (18551908), Russian writer, described
disintegration of landlords econ
omy and growth of capitalism
in the countryside331
Euclid (3rd cent. B.C.), greHt
mathematician
of
ancient
world 129, 148
Eudoxus of Cnidus (c. 408-c. 355
B.C.)mathematician and as
tronomer in Ancient Greece587
Euripides (c. 480-406 B.C.) poet
and
dramatist
in
Ancient
Greece623
Echtermeyer,
Theodor (1805-44),
German writer. Left Hegelian,
in co-operation with Ruge, he
founded magazine Italle Year
book on Problems of German
Science and A rt 434
F
E
Edison, Thomas Alva (1847-1931),
outstanding American inven
tor587
Eisenhart, Hugo (1811-93), German
professor of political economy,
supporter of protective tariffs
203
Elizabeth, Russian empress (174161)384, 385
Enfantin,
Barthelemy
Prosper
(1796-1864), French utopian so
cialist, follower of Saint-Simon513, 516-18, 722
Engels, Friedrich (1820-95)55, 59,
66-68, 72, 90, 114, 115, 135,
141, 156, 157, 159, 163, 164,
Farnam, Henry Walcott (18531933) 199

Faucher, Ju lius (1820-78), German
vulgar economist, Free Trader
84
Feuerbach,
Anselm (1775-1833).
father of philosopher Feuerbarh
Ludwig, criminologist444
Feuerbach, Luduig (1804-72)40l,
402, 428, 444, 461. 642
Fichte, Johann Gottlieb (17t21814) 406. 407 . 467 , 544 . 546
Filippov, M ikhail
Mikhailovich
(1858-1903), man of letters,
adherent to Legal Marxists" at
one time, editor of Nauchnoye
Obozreniye (Scientific Review)
572
NAME IN D E X
Fischer, Friedrich Theodor ( 1807-88),
German art critic, Left Hege
lian401
Flint, Robert (1838-1910), English
bourgeois sociologist 512
Fouquet, Nicolas (1615-80), French
statesman, financier 199
Fourier, Charles (1772-1837)320,
321, 472, 509, 524, 526, 529, 574
Fox, Charles James (1749-1806),
English statesman, member of
Liberal Party of Whigs499
Franklin, Benjamin (1706-90),prom
inent
American
statesman,
writer, scientist and philosopher,
participated in elaborating Dec
laration of Independence of the
USA in 1776580
Frazer, Alexander Campbell (18191914), English bourgeois histo
rian of philosophy 572
Frederick I I , King of Prussia (174086)384
Freiligrath, Ferdinand (1810-75),
German revolutionary poet: in
1848-49 was one of editors of
Neue Rheinische Zeitung435
Fustel de Coulanges, Numa Denis
(1830-89), French historian, rep
resented evolutionary trend in
science of history475
G
Golvani, Luigi (1737-98), Italian
physiologist and anatomist, dis
covered phenomenon of galvan
ism573
Geiger, Ludwig (1848-1919), Ger
man historian, investigator and
publisher of Goethe586
George Sand, pseudonym, see Dudevant, Aurore
Gervinus, Georg Gottfried (1805-71),
German bourgeois politician,
historian of literature640
Giraud-Teulon, Alexis (born 1839),
historian of primitive society,
professor in Geneva476, 592,
593, 651
Godwin, W illiam (1756-1836), En
glish petty-bourgeois writer, pub
licist and historian of literature,
initiator
of
anarchism 510
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang (17491832) 191, 453, 466, 539, 630,
042, 060
787
Gogol, Nikolai Vasilyevich (180952) 253, 408, 524, 546-48, 668,

709
Goldenberg,
Grigori/
Davydovich
(died 1880), Narodnaya Volya
member, took part in terrorist
activity339
Gorsse, Henri, pseudonym of Dameth
Grech, Nikolai Ivanovich (17871867), Russian reactionary jour
nalist and writer379, 380, 383,
388, 709
Grigoryev,
Vasily
Nikolayevich
(1852-1925), Zemstvo statisti
cian, economist and public fig
ure of Narodnik trend245,
246
Grimm, Friedrich Melchior (1723
1807), man of letters, diplomat
ist, member of Encyclopaedists'
group, publisher of Literary Cor
respondence505
Grosse, Ernst (1862-1927), German
bourgeois
sociologist,
ethno
grapher and historian of arts
470
Gran, Karl (1817-87), German pet
ty-bourgeois publicist, theoreti
cian of true socialism 10 1 ,
447,
448, 472, 688
Guiberl of Nogent (1053-C.1124),
French theologian and histo
rian616, 617
Guillaumme, James (1844-1917),
Swiss anarchist, opponent of
Marxism, one of leaders of secret
Alliance 320
Guizot, Francois Pierre Guillaume
(1787-1874), French bourgeois
historian and reactionary states
man475, 497, 498, 500-02, 510,
718, 719
Gumplowicz, Ludwig (1838-1909),
Austrian reactionary jurist and
sociologist, racist620
Guyau, Jean Marie (1854-88),
French bourgeois idealist philos
opher and sociologist636
II
Haeckel, Ernst Heinrich (18341919), German naturalist, Darw
inist, supported natural-histori
cal materialism552, 046, 648,
728
50*
788
NAME IN D E X
Hans, Eduard (1798-1839), German

jurist, Hegelian in theory of
right (law)401
Hansemann, David-Justus (17901864), one of loaders of Rhenish
liberal bourgeoisie, Prussian
Minister in 1848434
Harvey, W illiam (1578-1657), prom
inent English anatomist and
surgeon, established blood cir
culation 542
Haxthausen, August (1792-1866),
reactionary Prussian
official,
author of work describing ves
tiges of village commune system
in Russia 134, 138, 139, 144,
243
Haym, Rudolf (1821-1901), German
historian of literature and phi
losophy, positivist66
Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich
(1770-1831)66-68, 81, 89, 90,
153, 164, 165, 172, 184, 367,
370, 401, 402, 405-17, 419-26,
429, 430, 432-34, 444, 453, 454,
463, 465-68, 473, 476, 489, 539,
540, 543-53, 555-57, 559, 560,
563, 568-72, 577, 578, 580, 584,
598, 605, 606, 610, 629, 638,
643, 698, 700-03, 710, 711,
713-15, 719-24
Heine, Heinrich (1797-1856) 429,
434
Iieinze, Max (1835-1909), German
professor of philosophy, dual
ist-427, 475, 711
Heinzen, Karl (1809-80), German
publicist of radical trend, pettyDourgeois
republican669-71,
673, 680, 690, 696
Ileliogabalus (204-222), Roman em
peror490
Helvitius, Claude Adrien (171571)477-79, 483. 484, 488, 504,
508, 525, 532, 537, 538, 583,
621, 628, 642, 660
Henning, Leopold (1791-1866), pro
fessor of philosophy in Berlin,
Right Hegelian434
Henry IV , King of France (15941610) 209
Heraclitus of Ephesus (c. 530470
B.C.) 563
Herostratus of Ephesus, Greek who
burnt temple of Artemis
in
Ephesus in 356 B.C. to immor
talise his name363
Herzen, Alexander Ivanovich (pseu
donym, Iskander) (1812-70)68,
129, 130, 146, 148, 150, 165

393, 430
Hess, Moses (1812-75), German pet
ty-bourgeois publicist, one of
chief representatives of true
socialism 447 , 531. 688
Hildebrand, Bruno (1812-78), Ger
man bourgeois vulgar econom
ist, represented so-called his
torical school in political econo
m y 189
Hobbes, Thomas (1588-1679) 613
Holbach, Paul Heinrich (172389)453, 455, 478, 483, 484.
488.
493, 532, 660
Hubbard, Nicolas Gustav (1828-88),
French historian and econo
m ist512
Hugo, Victor (1802-85)-630
Hume, David (1711-76)450, 460,
461,
629, 631, 638. 639, 725
Huxley, Thomas Henry (1825-95),
English
naturalist,
Darwin
is t - 725
Ibsen, Henrik (1828-1906), Nor

wegian dramatist, classic of
Norwegian national literature
653
I nama-Sternegg,
Karl
Theodor
(1843-1908), German bourgeois
economist and historian611
Isayev, Andrei Alexeyevich (18511924), Russian bourgeois econo
mist and statistician229, 233
Ivan IV Vasilyevich, Great Duke
of Russia (1533-47), Tsar and
Great Duke of all Russia (154784) 240
Ivanov G., pseudonym of Uspen
sky G.
Ivanyukov, Ivan Ivanovich (18441912), Russian bourgeois econo
mist, professor, author of then
well-known textbook of political
economy70, 71, 170
Izyaslav Mstislavtch, Great Duke
of Kiev (1146-54) 522
Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich (17431819), German poet, philosopher,

friend of Goetne 59, 302
Jacobi, Johann (1805-77), German
bourgeois politician, democrat,
participated in Revolution ol
789
NAME IN D E X
1848; opponent of Bismarck
141
Jauris, Jean Lion (1859-1914),prom
inent figure in international
socialist movement, leader of
Right W ing of French Socialist
Party, historian, active fighter
against war and m ilitarism 55
James I I , King of England and
Ireland (1685-88), dethroned by
Glorious Revolution of 168889-499
K
Kant, Immanuel (1724-1804)67,
164, 406, 425, 429, 451-54, 45660, 464-67, 472, 474-76, 484,
489, 546, 561, 621, 629, 721, 723
Kareyev, Nikolai Ivanovich (18501931), Russian liberal Histo
rian and publicist, opponent of
Marxism249, 520-22, 589, 591,
593, 594, 596, 603, 606, 609,
611-17, 648, 686, 700, 719
Karonin, S., pseudonym of Petropavlovsky, N .Y .
Katkov, Mikhail Nikiforovich (181887), Russian publicist, liberal,
later monarchist 150, 364, 380
Kautsky, Karl (1854-1938), one of
leaders of German Social-Democracy and of Second Interna
tional. Marxist, then ideologist
of Centrism, opportunist652
Kavelin, Konstantin Dmitriyevich
(1818-85), Russian historian and
jurist, liberal, opponent of revolutionary-democratic
move
ment 726
Kennan, George (1845-1924), Amer
ican journalist and traveller
388
Kharizomenov, Sergei Andreyevtch
(1854-1917), Russian revolution
ary Narodnik
of seventies,
author of works on agrarian
statistics 731
Kolubovsky, Yakov Nikolayevich
(born 1863), historian and bib
liographer of Russian philoso
phy427
Kostylkov, / . N ., handicraftsman,
inventor228
Kovalevsky, Maxim Maximovich
(1851-1916), Russian scientist,
jurist, historian and sociologist254, 312, 598-601, 604, 608
Kravchinsky, S. M . See StepnyakKravchinsky

Kriege, Hermann (1820-50), Ger
man utopian socialist, follower
of W eitling, organiser of New
York group of League of the
J ust447
Krivenko,
Sergei
Nikolayevich
(1847-1907), liberal Narodnik of
1890s, opponent of M arxism 673, 674, 682-84, 686, 694-97, 704
Krupp, Alfred (1812-87), owner
of arms factories in Germany
195
Krylov, Ivan Andreyevich (17691844)276
K. T. (Tarasov, K /), See Rusa
nov, N. S.
Kudrin, N . See Rusanov, N . S.
L
Lamarck, Jean Baptiste (17441829), prominent French natural
ist, evolutionist, predecessor of
Darwin622, 659
La Mothe le Vayer, Francois (15881672), French philosopher, scep
tic, opposed theological dogmas
and scholastic absolute truths"
494
Lange, Friedrich Albert (1828-75),
German bourgeois philosopher,
Neokantian79, 428, 453, 508,
724
Laplace, Pierre Simon (1749-1827),
prominent French astronomer,
mathematician and physicist
699
Lassalle, Ferdinand (1825-64), pet
ty-bourgeois socialist, active
participant in German labour
movement, initiated opportunist
trend in German Social-Democracy 70, 78, 102, 154, 330,
343,
401, 548
Lasswitz, Kurt (1848-1910), German
man of letters and philosopher,
Neokantian457
Laurent, Francois (1810-87), Bel
gian jurist and historian 74
Lavrov, PyotrLavrovich, (pseudonym
Mirtov) (1823-1900), one of prom
inent ideologists of Narodism,
represented subjective school in
sociology, author of Historical
Letters89, 167, 172, 197, 27779, 285, 290, 291, 293, 295-97,
328
790
NAME IN D E X
Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm (16461716), prominent German ideal

ist philosopher444, 563-65
Lenin (Ulyanov). Vladimir Ilyich
(1870-1924)449
Lenormant,
Francois
(1837-83),
French archaeologist, historian
and traveller475, 610
Lerminier, Jean-Louis-Euglne
(1803-57), French jurist, liberal
publicist, Conservative since late
thirties of the 19th cent. 598
Lermontov,
M ikhail
Yuryevich
(1814-41)379
Leroy-Beaulieu, Pierre Paul (18431916), French bourgeois econo
mist84
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim (1729SI), most prominent German
writer, critic, philosopher and
18th-century enlightener401,
437
Levasseur, Pierre Emile (1828-1911),
French bourgeois economist and
historian 199
Lewes, George Henry (1817-78), En
glish bourgeois philosopher, po
sitivist, physiologist700, 701
Lichkov, Leonid Semyonovich (born
1855), Russian statistician and
publicist263, 267
Lilienfeld, Pavel Fyodorovich (18291903), Russian sociologist, follow
er of so-called organic school
726
Linton, W illiam James (1812-97),
English politician and journal
ist 129, 130
Lip pert, Ju lius (1839-1909), Aus
trian historian of culture and
ethnographer593
List, Friedrich (1789-1846), German
vulgar economist, one of found
ers of so-called historical school
in political economy65, 203OS, 687
Littrf. Emile (1801-81), French
philosopher, positivist and po
litician 512
Livy, Titus (59 B.C.-17 A .D.),
Roman historian656
Locke, John (1632-1704)483, 488,
504, 538. 560, 613, 628
Lopatin427
Louis Bonaparte, See Napoleon I I I .
Louis I X the Saint, K ing of
France (1226-70)-500
Louis X I , King of France (146183)368
Louis X IV , King of France (16431715)209, 629

Louis X V I, King of France (177492), sentenced to death by Con
vent and executed 209
Louis X V I I I , King of France (181424) 139, 140
Louis Philippe, King of France
(1830-48). enthroned by Revolu
tion of 1830, and dethroned by
Revolution of 1848 167, 524
635
Luchitsky, Ivan Vasilyevich (18451918), Russian bourgeois his
torian, Cadet, author of works
on French history286
Lucretia (6 th cent. B.C.), noble
Roman woman, as legend says,
who was dishonoured by son
of tsar and committed suicide
185
Lucretius, Titus (99-55 B.C.), out
standing Roman poet, material
ist philosopher, author of On
the Nature oj Things566
Luther, M artin (1483-1546), found
er of Protestantism (Lutheran
ism) in Germany 117
Lyell, Charles (1797-1875), prom
inent English geologist, founder
of evolutional geology541
M
Mably, Gabriel Bonnot de (1709-85),
French utopian communist 210
Magnitsky, M ikhail Leontyevich
(1778-1855), inspector of Kazan
educational district, extreme re
actionary and obscurantist380
Malet, Claude Francois (1754-1812),
French general, organised un
successful conspiracy against
Napoleon301, 302
Malon, Benoit (1841-93), French
petty-bourgeois socialist, mem
ber of First International, later
headed Right W ing of French
Workers' Party and organisation
of Possibi lists 75
Malthus, Thomas Robert (1766
1834), English reactionary bourgeois economist, advocated mi
santhropic theory of popula
tion510, 516-18
Marcellus, Marcus Claudius (c. 270208 B.C.). Roman g e n e r a l 587
NAME IN D E X
Marlius, Karl Friedrich (17981868), German naturalist and
traveller584, 600
Marx Karl (1818-83) 52, 62, 6671, 77, 79-81, 85, 89, 90, 101,
104, 114, 115, 121, 135, 141,
153, 168, 170, 179, 184, 188,
192, 205-07, 240, 270, 304, 321,
323, 325, 329-31, 351, 355, 365,
371, 372, 401, 406. 420-23, 427,
428, 433-35, 443, 446, 447, 459,
469-72, 475, 476, 518, 519, 529,
544. 559, 570, 574, 577-80, 582,
585, 604-08, 610-15, 618, 619,
621-25, 627, 635, 639-60, 66279, 682, 687, 688, 694-97, 700-01,
706, 710, 714, 718, 719, 721-25,
729.
732, 733, 735
Maurer, Georg Ludwig (1790-1872),
German historian, investigator
of social system of ancient and
medieval Germany475
McLennan, John Ferguson (182781), Scottish jurist, investigator
of history of primitive society
592
Mechnikov, Leu Ilyich (1838-88),
Russian geographer, sociologist
and publicist, supporter of geo
graphical trend in sociology
415, 475. 610, 699
Mehring. Franz (1846-1919), prom
inent representative of revolu
tionary Marxism in Germany,
member of Spartacus Union,
literary critic and historian of
Social-Democratic movement
428. 435, 447
Mendelssohn, Moses (1729-86), Ger
man
petty-bourgeois
idealist
philosopher401
Menzel, Wolfgang (1798-1873), Ger
man critic and writer, criticised
Goethe430
Meshchersky.
Vladimir Petrovich
(1839-1914), conservative pub
licist and writer, extreme mon
archist638, 723
Mtyer, Moritz201
Meyer, Rudolf (1839-99), German
economist, follower of Rodber
tus 188
Mignet, Francois Auguste (17961884), French bourgeois historian
of Restoration epoch498-500,
504.
-510, 718
M ikhail Fyodorovich Romanov, Tsar
of Russia (1613-45)385
791
Mikhailov, Mikhail
Larlonovich
(1829-65), Russian poet and pu
blicist, revolutionary democrat.
In 1861 he was sentenced to
deportation for life in Siberia,
where he died379
Mikhailovsky, Nikolai Konstantino
vich (1842-1904), Russian sociol
ogist and publicist, leader of
literal Narodism, violent oppo
nent of Marxism89, 444, 480,
482, 518, 519, 525, 529, 534-36,
541, 543, 544, 548, 550-56, 558,
559, 561, 572, 573, 575, 589,
591, 604, 606, 608, 638, 639,
641, 645-48, 650-57, 664-70, 67476, 682, 686, 696, 698, 704,
706-10, 712-29, 733, 734, 736
M ill, John Stuart (1806-73), En
glish bourgeois economist, prom
inent positivist619, 722
Moleschott, Jacob (1822-93), phy
siologist, vulgar materialist
482
Moliere586
Montesquieu, Charles (1689-1755),
French enlightener and sociolog
ist-493, 658, 698
Moreau de Jonnes, Alexandre (17781870), French economist and
statistician214
Morgan, Lewis Henry (1818-81),
American scientist, ethnogra
pher. investigator of primitive
society469, 589, 593, 610, 655,
656
Morozov, Savva Vasilyevich (17701862), factory-owner, founder of
dynasty of Russian textile fac
tory-owners 219, 232
N
Napoleon I (Bonaparte), Emperor
of France (1804-14 and 1815)
201, 299
Napoleon I I I (Louts Bonaparte),
Emperor of France (1852-70)
341, 623
Neclniyer.
Sergei
Gennadiyevich
(1S47-82), Russian revolution
ary, conspirator, terrorist 161
Nekrasov. Nikolai A lexexjevlch (182178)-386
Newton, Isaac (1642-1727)_551
Nikolai on. See Danielson.
Nicholas I , Emperor of Russia
(1825-55) 145, 309, 378-80, 384,
398, 399
NAME IN D E X
792
Nicholas I I , last emperor of Rus

sia (1894-1917) 378
Novikov, Nikolai Ivanovich (17441818), Russian enlightener, sa
tiric writer, journalist, pub
lisher, whom Catherine II im
prisoned in Schlusselburg fortress
for his free-thinking379
Nozhin, Nikolai Dmitrtyevich (184366), publicist, biologist, partici
pated in revolutionary movement
of sixties in Russia 534, 535,
728
O
Octavius, see Augustus Gatus
Ju lius 431
Offenbach,
Jacques
(1819-80),
French composer, past master in
French classic comic operas561
Opitz, Theodor, German Young
Hegelian, publicist641, 642
Orlov, Vasily Ivanovich (1848-85),
Zemstvo statistician of Moscow
Gubernia. Marx, Lenin and
Plekhanov made use of data
collected in his works246-49,
251. 256, 263, 268
Ostwald, Wilhelm Friedrich (18531932), German chemist and ideal
ist philosopher, author of reac
tionary Machian theory of ener
gy-453
Owen, Robert (1771-1858)472, 509
P
Paul I , Emperor of Russia (17961801)384-86
Paulus, Heinrich (1761-1851), Pro
testant theologian437
Pecchio, Giuseppe (1785-1835), Ita l
ian jurist and economist619
Pericles423
Pirigot, Charles 200
Perovskaya, Sophia Lvovna (185381), Russian revolutionary, prom
inent
member of Narodnaya
Volya, took active part in at
tempt at life of Alexander I I
397
Peschel, Oskar (1826-75), German
geographer, ethnologist and pub
licist-601, 604, 615, 651, 722
Peter I , Tsar of Russia
(16821721), Emperor of all
Russia
(1721-25)243, 369, 378, 382,
389-91, 393
Peter 111, Emperor of Russia

(1761-62)384
Peters, German architect, corres
pondent of Rodbertus325
Petropavlovsky, Nikolai Yelpidiforovich (1853-92), Russian Na
rodnik writer544
Petrashevsky (Butashevich),
M i
khail Vasilyevich (1821-66), prom
inent figure of Russian libera
tion movement in middle of
19th century, leader of political
circle known as Potrnshevtsi
(1848) 364, 544
Pisarev, Dmitry Ivanovich (184068), prominent critic, material
ist philosopher, revolutionary
democrat. After one of his arti
cles, he was imprisoned in the
Peter and Paul Fortress379
Pitt, William (the Elder) (Chatham)
(1708-78), English statesman,
leader of party of Whigs201-02
Plato (427-347 B.C.) 555, 587
Plautus, Titus Maccius (c. 254184 B.C.), Roman poet725
Plutarch (c. 46-126 A .D .), mora
list writer in Ancient Greece,
author of biographies of prom
inent Greek anu Roman fig
ures481. 587, 588
Pogodin, Mikhail Petrovich (180075), Russian reactionary histor
ian and publicist, ideologist of
monarchy and nobility711
Polevoi, Nikolai Alexeyevich (17961846), Russian journalist, writer
and historian, one of first bour
geois ideologists in Russia of
twenties and thirties, later reac
tionary667
Polezhayev, A lexander Ivanovich
(1804-38), Russian poet, was
sent to army as private for his
satirical poem Sashka which
was directed against police-feu
dal regime379
Polyakov, S. S. (1837-88), Russian
capitalist, became rich through
railway concessions212
Polybius (c. 201-120 B.C.), histor
ian of Ancient Greece656
Pompey, Cnaeus (106-48 B.C.),
Roman general431
Post, Albert Hermann (1839-95),
German ethnologist and law
yer 602
Postnikov,
Vladimir
Yefimovich
(1844-1908), Russian economist,
NAME IN D E X
statistician, investigator of peas
ant economy in South Russia.
His statistical data were analy
sed by Lenin in his Development
of Capitalism in Russia 732
Price, Richard (1723-91) English
economist and publicist454,
464
Priestley, Joseph (1733-1804), prom
inent English chcmist, material
ist philosopher and progressive
public figure453, 464
Prince-Smith, John (1809-74), econ
omist, founder of Free Trade
trend in Germany84
Proudhon, Pierre-Joseph (1809-65),
French publicist, economist and
sociologist, one of founders of
anarchism, ideologist of petty
bourgeoisie 56-58, 62, 76, 87,
169, 170, 192, 200, 269, 321-23,
325, 512
Prugavin, Victor Stepanovich (185896). Russian economist, Zemstvo
statistician, liberal Narodnik
221-23, 226, 228, 230, 240, 248,
265, 529
Puchta, Georg Friedrich (1798-1846),
German jurist, professor, repre
sented
reactionary historical
school of right595, 596, 600
Pugachov,
Yemelyan
Ivanovich
(c. 1742-75), headed biggest peas
ant uprising against serfdom in
Russia in 18th century 147, 148
Pushkin,
Alexander
Sergeyevich
(1799-1837) 159, 379, 709, 716
Q
Quinault,
Philippe
(1635-88),
French poet ana dramatist630
R
Racine, Jean (1639-99), French
dramatist, prominent represen
tative of 17th-century classi
cism627, 630
Radishchev, Alexander Nikolayevich
(1749-1802), prominent Russian
revolutionary, writer, material
ist philosopher. For his accusa
tory book Travel from Petersburg
to Moscow he was sentenced to
death by order of Catherine II,
this sentence being changed then
51-01329
793
for deportation to Siberia379

Rambaud, Alfred Nicolas (18421905)," French bourgeois histo
rian of liberal trend389, 392
Razin, Stepan Timofeyevich (died
1671), Don Cossack, headed big
gest popular uprising against
feudalism in Russia in second
half of 17th centurv49, 147,
148,
320, 321
Ratzel, Friedrich (1844-1904), Ger
man geographer and ethnogra
pher, founder of reactionary socalled
anthropo-geograpnical
school470, 584
Raynal, Guillaum-e Thomas Fran
cois (1713-96), French historian
close to Encyclopaedists558
Reclus, Jean Jacques Elisie (18301905), French geographer and
sociologist, participated in Paris
Commune, 1871, llieoretician of
anarchism 610, 699
Reinke, Johannes (1849-1931), Ger
man botanist456, 457, 467
Ricardo, David (1772-1823), E n
glish economist, prominent rep
resentative of classical bourgeois
political economy84, 85, 415,
515-17, 619, 620'
Richelieu, Armand Jean de (15851642), prominent French states
man, cardinal 199
Riehl, Alois (1844-1925), German
philosopher,
Neokantian457,
461
Rink, Illn rik Johann (1819-93),
Danish ethnographer, traveller,
explorer or Greenland597, 601
Rittinghausen, M . (1814-90), Ger
man Social-Democrat, contribu
tor to Neue Rheinische Zeitung
58
Robespierre, Maximtlien (1758-94),
outstanding figure of French
Bourgeois Revolution of 1789,
headed Revolutionary Govern
ment of Jacobin Dictatorship
382
Rochet, inventor of m illing loom
in ribbon production 226
Rodbertus-Jagetzow, Johann Karl
(1805-75), German vulgar econo
mist, ideologist of reactionary
Prussian junkerdom70, 83, 84,
154,
193, 195. 322, 325, 602
Rogers, James Edwin Thorold (182390), English bourgeois economist
and historian81
NAME IN D E X
794
Rothschild, the fam ily of m illion

aire bankers 540
Rousseau, Jean Jacques (1712-78)
493, 556-60, 613
Ruge Arnold (1802-80), German
radical publicist, Left Hegelian,
published
Deutsch-Franzosische
JahrbQcher in co-operation with
Marx, in sixties adhered to Bis
marck434
Runich, Dmitry Pavlovich (17781860), inspector of Petersburg
educational district, enemy of
education380
Rusanov, Nikolai Sergeyevich (pseud
onyms, Tarasov, K.', Kudrin, N.)
(born 1859), publicist, Narod
naya Volya member in his youth,
later socialist-revolutionary, and
white 6migr6 after October Rev
olution 114, 280, 480, 481
S
Saint-Just, Louis Antoine Lion
(1767-94), prominent figure in
French Bourgeois Revolution of
1789, leader of Jacobins, member
of Committee of Public Security.
Executed after Thermidor 9th
382
Saint-Simon, Claude Henri (17601825)472, 504, 509-15, 522,
523, 527, 530, 532, 533, 536,
631,
676, 726, 728, 734
Saltykov
(Salty kov-Shchedrin),
M ikhail Yevgrafovich (pseudo
nym, N . Shchedrin), (1826-89),
great Russian satiric writer, rev
olutionary democrat 176, 389,
544, 572,' 614
Savigny, Friedrich Karl (17791861), German jurist, one of
founders of reactionary so-called
historical school of right 594-97
Say,
J ean-Baptiste (1767-1832),
French bourgeois economist, rep
resented vulgar political econ
omy 237, 405, 515, 523, 562,
639
Schapper, Karl (c. 1812-70), Ger
man socialist, one of founders
of League of the Just; in 1850
was leader of Lefts" in League
of Communists206, 207
SchSffle, Albert (1831-1903). Ger
man economist and sociologist,
Katheder-Socialist77
Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm (17751854) 406, 407, 420, 421, 561

563, 566. 571-73, 598, 600, 605!
606, 722, 724
Schiller, Johann Friedrich (17591805) 52, 466
Schlosser, Friedrich Christoph (17761861), German bourgeois nistorian, liberal371
Schmidt, Konrad (1863-1932), Ger
man Social-Democrat, revision
ist, Neokantian457, 458
Sechenov, Ivan Mikhailovich (18291905), prominent Russian natu
ralist, founder of materialist
physiology453, 454, 473, 474,
725, 726
Seligman, Edwin (1861-1939), Amer
ican economist,
professor of
Columbia University, New York,
advocated Anglo-American psy
chological school in sociology
470, 471
Sextus (6th cent. B.C.), son of
Roman king Tarquin the Proud
185
Shakespeare, W illiam (1564-1616)
540
Shchapov.
Afanasy Prokofyevich
(1830-76), progressive Russian
public figure, historian, support
ed community-fedcralist con
ception of Russian historical
process. In 1864 he was deported
to Siberia under suspicion of
being connected with revolu
tionary emigres 164, 379
Shchedrin, see Saltykov
Shevchenko.
Taras
Grigoryevlch
(1814-61), great Ukrainian pop
ular poet, was sent to army as
rivate and then deported for
is revolutionary activity379
Sieber, Nikolai Ivanovich (184488), Russian economist, one of
first popularisers of Marxs eco
nomic theorv in Russia518.
544, 598. 663'. 664, 712-17
Simon, Jules (1814-96), French po
litical figure, publicist and philos
opher-192, 193
Sismondi, Jean Charles (1773-1842),
Swiss economist, petty-bourgeois
critic of capitalism84, 495, 496
Skalkovsky, Konstantin Apollono
vich (born 1843), Russian writer
and administrator in mining and
metallurgical industry216
NAME IN D E X
Skvortsov,
Alexander
Ivanovich
(1848-1914), Russian agronom
ist, economist 731
Smith, Adam (1723-90), English
economist, one of most promi
nent representatives of classical
bourgeois political economy
84, 269, 405. 517, 518, 619
Smith-Prince. See Prince-Smith
Sobieski, Ja n , King of Poland
(1674-96) 384
Socrates (469-399 B.C.)-426, 702
Sokolov, Nikolai Matveyevich (born
1860), poet, critic and translator
of philosophical works by Kant,
Schopenhauer and others465
Sombart, Werner (1863-1941), Ger
man bourgeois vulgar econom
ist, nationalist and advocate of
race theory"237
Sophocles (c. 497-406 B.C.), dra
matist in Ancient Greece423,
623
Spartacus (1st cent. B.C.), leader
of biggest uprising of slaves in
Ancient Rome (74-71 B.C.) 588
Spasovich,
Vladimir Danilovich
(1829-1906), Russian jurist, lib
eral543, 544. 551
Spencer, Herbert (1820-1903), Enlish
philosopher, positivist,
eaded so-called organic school
in sociology 122, 444, 533, 551,
593, 727
Spinoza, Baruch (Benedict) (163277) 401, 438. 461, 560, 563, 610
Stammler, Rudolf (1858-1938), Ger
man jurist, Neokantian464
Starcke, Karl Nikolas (1858-1926),
Danish philosopher, and sociolo
gist428
Stein, Lorenz (1815-90), German
jurist and economist, advocator
of "social monarchy78, 447
Steinen, Karl von den (1855-1929),
prominent traveller and ethno
grapher469. 480
Stepnyak-Kravchinsky, Sergei M i
khailovich (1851-95), revolution
ary Narodnik of seventies, mem
ber of Zemlya i Volya, writer100
Strauss, David Friedrich (1808-74),
German philosopher and publi
cist, prominent Left Hegelian,
later bourgeois liberal435, 438,
440-42
Stronin, Alexander Ivanovich (182789), Russian writer and publi
cist 7?6
Struve, Pyotr Bernhardovich (18701944), Russian bourgeois econo

mist and publicist who under
went evolution from Marxism to
monarchism447, 448, 673, 698,
702-04, 709, 710, 728, 736
Stuckenberg,
Ivan
Fyodorovich
(1788-1856), Russian geographer
and statistician 224
Studnilz, Arthur Robert (born
1851)74
Suard, Jean Baptiste (1733-1817),
French critic and journalist, mon
archist-487, 488, 506
Sudeikin, colonel of gendarmery,
sentenced to. death by Executive
of Narodnaya Volya and killed
in 1883-387
Svyatoslav (c. 945-972), Grand Duke
of Kiev 177
Syromyalnikov, M . P ., Russian sta
tistician219
Szeliga. Sec Cychlinski, Franz
T
Taine, Ilippolyte Adolphe (182893), French literary and art
critic, philosopher and histo
rian623, 625
Tarasov, K ., see Rusanov, N . S.
Thierry, Jacques Nicolas Augustin
(1795-1856), prominent French
historian and publicist of liberal
trend73, 475, 498-500, 502-04,
510, 718
Thucydides (c. 460-395 B.C.), histo
rian in Ancient Greece656
Tikhomirov,
Lev
Alexandrovich
(1852-1923), member of Zemlya
i Volya in seventies, member of
Executive of Narodnaya Volya,
renegade, reactionary since late
eighties 89. 122, 125-29, 15153, 157, 158-59, 166, 168-79,
189-201, 203-06, 208-11. 213r
214, 217, 218, 220, 221, 233,
234, 238-40, 269, 275-77. 280-95r
297-99. 303, 305-21. 323-24. 32731, 334, 337, 350-52, 363-68,
370, 371, 373-82, 384-89. 392,
394,
396, 397
Tlmiryazev, Dmitry Arkadyevich
(1837-1903), Russian statistician,
investigated condition of agri
culture and handicraft industry
in Russia 216
51*
NAME IN D E X
790
Timoleon (c. 411-335 B.C.). general

and statesman of Corinth, hated
tyranny467
Tkachov, Pyotr Nikitich (1844-86),
prominent Russian revolution
ary Narodnik, advocated seizure
of power by a handful of conspi
rators 59, 119, 148, 156, 15863, 165, 166, 168, 171-73, 175,
180, 184, 281-85, 291-93, 295,
303, 318-20, 327-28, 330, 335,
351
Tolstoi,
Alexei Konstantinovich
(1817-75), Russian poet and dra
matist385, 706, 707
Tolstoi, Dmitry Andreyevich (182389), reactionary statesman. M in
ister of Public Education (18661880), Ministerof Internal Affairs
and Chief of Gendarmery since
1882380
Tolstoi. Lev Nikolayevich (18281910)686
Tugan-Baranovsky, M ikhail Iva
novich (1865-1919), Russian bour
geois economist, Legal' Marx
ist" 237
Torgot, Anne Robert Jacques (172781). French economist, physio.crat and statesman65
U
Uspensky, Gleb Ivanovich (18431902), prominent Russian writer,
revolutionary
democrat 152,
241, 344, 392, 463, 653, 685,
700, 717
Vberweg, Friedrich (1826-71), Ger
man bourgeois historian of phi
losophy210. 427, 475, 711
V
Vanderbilt, the family of American
multim illionaires540
Van der lloeven. Johann (1801-68),
Dutch naturalist 535
Van
Tieghem, Philipp
Eduard
(1839-1914), French naturalist,
botanist555, 556
Vico, Giovanni Battista (1668-1744),
Italian philosopher and sociolo
gist. author of rotation theory in
development of society417,
496, -"197, 619
Virchow, Rudolf (1821-1902), Ger

man scientist, founder of cellular
pathology648
Vollgraf, K arl693, 694, 696
Volta, Alessandro (1745-1827), Ital
ian physicist and physiologist,
one of first scientists who discov
ered and investigated electric
current573
Voltaire, (pseudonym of Francois
Marie Arouet) (1694-1778) 380,
489, 496, 557, 559, 630, 631,
636, 658
Vorontsov, Vasily Pavlovich (pseud
onym, V.V.) (1847-1918), Rus
sian economist and publicist,
ideologist of liberal Narodism in
eighties and nineties of tho
19th century 191, 195, 196,211,
213-15, 231, 236, 237, 240. 251,
269, 292, 331, 333, 489, 519-21,
548, 598, 610, 613, 642, 673,
733, 735, 736
V. V. see Vorontsov, V. P.
W
Weisengriin, Paul (born 1868), Ger
man bourgeois sociologist, one
of earlier revisionists 589, 591
W illiam the Conqueror, King of
England (1066-87), former Duke
of Normandy who conquered
England 503
Willich, August (1810-78), Prus
sian officer, headed group of
ultra-Left. in League of Commu
nists206. 207
Wilson, Daniel (1816-92), English
bourgeois historian and archaeol
ogist581
Windelband, Wilhelm- (1848-1915),
German Neokantian philosoph
er-457
Witt, Ja n de (1625-72), Dutch
statesman, friend of Spinoza467
Wolff. Wilhelm (1809-64), German
publicist, member of Central
Committee of League of Com
munists, close friend of Mars
and Engels435
Z
Zasulich, Vera Ivanovna (18511919), revolutionary Narodnik,
later Social-Democrat, partici
797
NAME IN D E X
pated in organising Emancipa
tion of Labour group, Menshevik
after
Second
Congress
of
R .S .D .L .P . 186
Zeller, Eduard (1814-1908), German
historian of ancient philosophy
441
Zhelyabov, Andrei Ivanovich (185081), prominent Russian revolu
tionary Narodnik, initiator of
Narodnaya Volya organisation50,
51, 339, 352, 397
Zhukovsky,
Yuly Galaktionovich
(1822-1907), bourgeois econo
mist and publicist, opponent of
Marxist political economy518,
559, 663, 664, 666, 675, 694
Zinovyev, P ., Russian Zemstvo sta
tistician265
Zlatovratsky, Nikolai Nikolayevich
(1845-1911), Russian Narodnik
writer-244, 245, 251, 270
X
Xenophon (c. 430-355 B.C.), his
torian in Ancient Greece619,
639, 656
Y
Yakushkina, Elizaveta Mardaryevna
(died 1893), landlady in Tula
Gubernia, village Starukhino,
who engaged in philanthropic
activity among peasants264
Yanson, Yuly Eduardovich (183592), Russian liberal economist
and statistician, organiser of
first model urban census in
1890-247
Yaroslav Vladimirovich, Duke of
Galich (1152-87) 522
Yuzhakov,
Sergei
Nikolayevich
(1849-1910), Russian publicist,
liberal Narodnik 686
SUBJECT INDEX
A
Absolute idea407-10, 570, 57478,
606, 700
Abstraction402, 405, 420, 473,
569-70, 722-24
Accident (chance). See Necessity
and accident
Aesthetics401, 553, 614, 621,
624, 636-37
Africa628
Agnosticism 725
See also Empiriomonism; Humism; Kantian philosophy; Neokantianism; Positivism
Agrarian question in Russia6263, 309, 315, 316
America202, 203
Analogy 511-12, 725-27
Analysis and synthesis609-10,
728, 730
Anarchism52, 55-62, 70-71, 88,
114, 283, 284, 318, 319, 321
See also Proudhonism
Ancicnt History 73, 411-12, 41415, 426, 430-31, 469, 490, 566-67,
571, 583, 602, 651, 656, 676, 701
Ancient philosophy382, 418, 429,
566-67, 573, 587, 615, 654, 701
Antagonism
Sec Contradictions, antagonistic
Anthropology 563, 632-33
A ntinom y489-90, 496, 621, 62425, 658
Apriorism456,459-60,466-67,474
Arch i tec ture 636
A rt-406, 407, 470, 598, 635-37
definition618-20, 623, 629
See also Architecture; Literature
Atheism471, 629
See also Feuerbachian philosophy
criticism of idealism and re
ligion;
French materialism, 18th cent.

atheism; Religionand pro
letariat
Atom, atomism 566, 567, 652-53,
698
Autocracy in Russia49-50, 51,
62, 91-94, 102-04, 125, 133,
154-55, 244. 309-10, 359, 372-95,
398-400, 430
B
Bakuninism in Russia56-59, 88,
89,
114, 118, 122, 126, 148-56,
159, 161-65, 166-68, 171-176
Balkan states383-84
Basis and superstructure67, 6970, 77-78, 414-15, 605, 618-19,
622, 644-45
See also Economics; Ideology;
Social being and social con
sciousness
Beautiful in life and art637-38
See also Tragical in life and art
Being 563
and consciousness420, 455-56
See also Social being and social
consciousness
Belinsky, V. G .- 477
and Hegelian philosophy
433, 487, 552, 700
literary views707
socio-political views433, 704
Belles-lettres
See Literature
Berkeleian philosophy460, 475,
483
Blanquism 167-68
in Russia-59-60, 118-21. 124,
156-61, 163-71, 175, 179-80,
184, 212-13, 282-329, 332-34,
335
SUBJECT IN D E X
Bourgeoisie
dom inant75, 84, 86-87, 94,
187, 393, 470. 478-79, 671-72
in epoch of bourgeois revolu
tions 72-73, 86-87, 210, 478,
685,
698, 718
in Russia 104, 151, 211-13,
218-19, 284-87, 391-92, 394-95
See also Potty bourgeoisie; Pro
letariatand bourgeoisie
Buddhism481
C
Capitalism 86, 674
contradictions354-55,
36970, 478, 659, 683-84, 688-89,
691-92
-h istory 86 , 184-85, 207, 237,
334-35, 339-41, 618-19, 66566. 674, 680-81, 685-689, 695696
Capitalism in agriculture
in Russia392-93, 397-98,
399-400, 682-83
See also Russian village com
mune disintegration
in the West238-41, 685-86
Capitalism in Russia 117-18, 125^
29, 155-59, 177-78, 181-83, 19697, 213-22, 231-37, 243-44, 27176, 333-34, 332-39. 354-55, 35859, 392-93, 398-400, 673-76, 677,
687-80, 682-84, 605-96, 727-28,
730, 735-36
handicraft industry221-32,
397-99, 678-80
markets 198, 208-13, 236-37,
359
See also Capitalism in agricul
turein Russia; Russian v il
lage communecriticism of
exceptionalist theory; Russian
village communedisintegra
tion
Cartesianism461, 483
Cause and effect71-75, 279-80,
410, 417, 430-33, 443, 445, 44951,
452, 456-58, 459-60. 474,
490-93, 497, 503, 522-23, 557-58,
565-66, 587-88. 616, 677
Chorny Porodel49, 173-74
Chernyshevsky, N. G .637
aesthetic teaching 637-38
546-47, 548
and Russian village com
mune 131-37, 138-39, 145,
162, 163-64
799
and socialism 136, 138-39

dialectics 164, 355
economic views519-20
historical views547-48
and Peasant Reform of 1861
133
philosophical viows546-49
social and political views
139, 433, 546
China398, 400, 502, 650
Class51, 72-73, 76-88, 135-36,
209-10, 212-13, 283-89, 372, 37475, 402, 423-25, 466-67, 470,
502, 618-23. 630. 635-37, 653-54,
662, 732
Class struggle 72-83, 86-87, 18384, 283, 289, 333-34, 353-54,
412, 447-48, 472, 498, 613, 62021, 630, 650, 656, 682, 717,
723
Classical German idealism 66,
406-07, 420-22. 426, 429, 53952. 560-63, 566, 568-76, 583,
598-601, 605-06, 607, 642, 71617, 722-23
See also Kantian philosophy;
Hegelian philosophy
Classicism630-32, 637-38
Clergy436
Communism70. 131-32, 309-11
See also Primitive communal
systemcommune
Community. See Russian village
commune; Primitive communal
systemcommune
Concept71-72, 450-51, 510, 602,
607-08. 614, 632-33, 670-71, 720
Conformity to law, laws of nature
and societv84-86, 128-29, 273,
409, 418-19, 420-24, 432, 435-36,
459-60, 464-65, 473-74, 51315, 521-22, 548-49, 561-64, 56768, 571, 592-93, 605, 652-53,
658-59, 677, 678-81, 694, 726,
732-33
Consciousness414-15,
417-19,
455-56. 457-59, 460-61, 472, 473,
518, 608-09, 700, 725-26
See also Beingand conscious
ness; Social being and social
consciousness
Constitution355-56, 360-61, 40809,
490, 496-97, 532-33, 568
Content and form472-73, 549-50,
608-10, 628
Contradiction353, 431-32, 488,
490-93. 540, 601-02. 631, 636,
638, 639-47. 658, 693
antagonistic489, 636, 641
SUBJECT IN D E X
Critique and publicism 672
Russian711-12
Culture378, 381-83, 393,
470, 576, 650-51
458,
Dualism425-26, 451-52, 459-60

474-75, 483, 522-23, 533, 538,
564-65, 574, 579-80, 615-16
E
D
Darwinism 66, 467, 511, 583,
606, 646, 656, 659, 727-28
Decembrists430, 431
Democracy88-89, 94, 101, 622
Development402, 406-07, 419-21,
432-33, 455, 456-57, 466-67, 51112,
615, 670-71
Dialectics401, 421-22, 539, 54144, 546-47, 549-51, 557-58, 55960, 574, 613
and metaphysics556-58, 621,
641, 716-21
interconnection and interde
pendence of phenomena406,
421-22, 459-60, 474-75, 49093, 539-40, 561, 721-22
- m e th o d - 128, 130-31, 152-53,
162-64
negation of negation89-90,
129-31, 137, 165, 431-32, 54950,
552-53, 559-60, 564-65
struggle and unity of oppo
sites74, 210, 415-17,419, 53940, 545, 550, 561
transformation of quantitative
changes into qualitative36566, 423-24, 542-43, 545, 55153,
556-57, 558-59, 562, 58384, 613, 619-20, 636, 710
See also Conformity to law, laws
of nature and society; Contra
diction; Development; Move
ment; Necessity and accident;
Possibility and reality
Dialectical
materialism421-23,
484, 633-35, 658, 660-61, 671-72,
675-76, 700
and metaphysical material
ism-416-17, 658, 660, 699
as revolution in philosophy
428, 677
Dictatorship 297
of proletariat 74-76, 79-80,
86-87, 95-97, 141, 270, 447-48,
478-79
enlightener350-51, 372, 64142
Drama 627, 633
See also French dramatic lite
rature, 17th and 18th cent.
Eclecticism 191-92, 407-09, 45859, 499-500, 502, 626-27, 633,

638, 640-41, 653, 667, 668, 68384, 700
Economic relations. See Produc
tion relations
Economics413-14
and politics412, 613-14
See also Politics
Economy. See Production relations
Effect. See Cause and effect
Emancipation of Labour group
ana Narodnaya Volya89-90,
102-03, 107-23, 167, 177-78,
350-52
programme 101-02, 108, 114,
120-31, 177-79, 181, 330-49,
353-62
tactics 177-78, 357, 360
Empiriomonism461
England74-76, 78-79, 498, 503,
529, 532, 581, 628-29, 632, 658,
670,
671-72, 695
English philosophy, 17th and 18th
cent.
idealism450-51, 558-59
materialism469, 487-88, 495505,
560-61, 628, 632
See also Berkeleian philosophy;
Iluniism
Enlighteners 411-12
in the West, 18th cent.417,
420,
436, 457, 484-87 . 488-89,
490-93, 496-97, 504-07, 508,
510, 522-24, 532, 556-61, 56566, 583, 598, 634, 636, 658,
662, 698
Enlightenment317, 382, 494
E quality, inequality415
Essence444-46,
569-70,
622,
723
Estate96-97, 375-76, 391, 415-16,
436, 597
See also N obility and aristo
cracy; Peasantry
Evolution375-77, 396, 402, 551
and revolution365-71, 37275,
423, 613-14, 618
Experiment450-51, 459, 474, 619
Exploitation477-79, 515, 540-88,
613, 685
801
SUBJECT IN D E X
F
Fatalism -464, 499-500, 513-14,
538-39, 565-67, 607, 643, 660
Forecast274
Form. See Content and form
France 199-200, 209-10, 238-39,
368-69, 376, 497-98, 503, 524,
621-23, 628-29, 632, 646, 724-25
Freedom and necessity 128, 420,
422-23, 451, 464-65, 473-74, 56368, 579, 601, 607-08, 656-57,
659-61, 670-72
French dramatic literature, 17th18th cent. 630-32. 637-39
French Enlighteners. See Enlight
enersin the West, 18th cent.
French historians of Restoration
philosophy of history497507, 510-11, 523, 605, 610
teaching on classes447, 49799
428, 574, 627-34, 662, 694, 71718
atheism488-89, 538, 632
class essence431, 475-79
ethics483-87
metaphysical
character
of
views 462, 537-38, 557-58,
565-66, 583, 620, 660, 721-22
philosophy of history418-19,
421, 462. 475-76, 477, 483-87,
493, 496-97, 500-01, 504-05,
508, 510, 537-39, 568-69, 642,
661-62, 698
theory of knowledge452-53,
462, 483, 484, 538, 605, 64142, 725
views on nature461-62, 484,
537-38, 564,
633-34.
642,
662
French utopian socialism 141, 428
economic views 416-17, 51415, 518, 523, 529
philosophy of history 499500, 504/508-15, 526, 531-33,
568-69, 630-31, 676, 726-28,
734
political views 524, 527-28,
529-30
subjective
method 522-23,
526, 529-30, 531-32, 632-33,
717, 734
Feuerbachian philosophy401, 444
criticism of idealism and religion444-45, 577-78, 702
object and subject 460-61,
641-42
Feudalism - 126, 501-02, 503, 582,

691
Geographical
environment67,
414-15, 495, 583-86, 658-59, 69899
G
Germany200-01, 203-04,
552,
573, 628, 631. 648-49, 656, 66970, 671-72, 683-84, 686-93, 694,
696
Gnosiology. Soe Theory of know
ledge
God-seeking446
Greek philosophy. Seo Ancient
philosophy
II
Hegelian philosophy 508, 552-54,
605-06, 643, 696
aesthetics405-06, 552
and Hegelianism 543, 546,
547,
548, 550-51, 552, 554-56,
577-78, 579-80, 606
and Marxism 551-52, 580-81,
667, 700-02, 720
method 152-53, 164, 369-70,
416-17, 421-26, 430-31, 488-89,
490, 538-39, 541-42, 548-49,
550-51, 613-14, 636, 637-38,
722
philosophy of history401-26,
429-34, 467-69, 512-13, 561-62,
567-70, 580-81, 587, 598, 700,
701-02, 723-24
system 165, 406-07, 424-25,
544-46, 547-49, 550-73, 70001,
718-20
See also Belinsky and Hegelian
philosophy; Chernyshevsky
Herzen
and socialism 129-30
dialectics 68
initiator of Narodism 129-30,
165
philosophical views 430
social and political views
391-92, 396-97, 399
on Russian village commune
129-30
Hieroglyphs (theory)454-55, 47374
Historical materialism67-68, 6973, 88-91, 127-29, 136-37, 18990, 193-94, 198-99, 200-02, 20506, 210-12, 253-57, 265-66, 268-
802
SUBJECT IN D E X
70, 365-66, 408-09, 412, 416-18,

421-22, 458-59, 469-71, 482, 58386, (504-05, 608-09, 643, 645-46,
653-54, 655-60, 676, 698-99, 71718
revolution in views on soci
ety 583, 605-06, 625-26, 64648, 650-52, 662-63
See also Basis and superstruc
ture; Class struggle; Freedom
and necessity; Ideology; Pro
duction relations; Productive
forces; Social being and social
consciousness; State
History
(science)370, 385-86,
401,'418-19, 431-32, 469-70, 509,
510-11, 552, 583, 590-91, 624-26,
640-41, 642, 644-45, 646-48, 65051,
656-57, 725-27
Sec also Chernyshevskyhistor
ical views; French historians
of Restoration
History of philosophy (science)
400,' *02-06, 474-75, 508-09, 61011,
620-21, 629-30, 631-33, 64748, 701-02
History of society367-68, 369-70,
386,'393-94, 398-99, 409-11, 41618. 421-23, 431-32, 458-59, 47476,
525, 542-43, 566-67, 589-90,
658-59, 705-06
Ilum ism 449-51. 460-62, 629, 63132, 637-39
Hypothesis653-54
I
Idea (philosophy)482-83, 487-88,
511-12, 537-38, 568-70, 575-76,
582
See also Absolute idea
Idealism67, 406-08, 411, 417-19,
421-22, 458-59, 472-73, 482-83,
537-39, 563-67, 570, 574, 63234, 639-41, 642, 660, 699, 72324, 725
Seo also Berkeleian philosophy;
Classical German idealism;
Hegelian philosophy; Idealism
in Russia; Kantian philoso
phy; Neokantianism; Subjec
tive idealism
historical55-56, 67, 147-48,
407-08, 410-11. 416-17, 421-22,
436, 565-66, 568-69, 570-71,
574, 593-98, 605, 653-54, 71819
See also French materialism,

18th cent. philosophy of his
tory; French utopian social
ism philosophy of history;
Hegelian philosophyphilos
ophy of history; Philosophy
of history; Revolutionary Na
rodism; Subjective method in
sociology
Idealism in Russia427
See also Liberal Narodism
subjective method; Philosophy
of historyof Russian think
ers, 19th' cent.; Sociology, so
ciological views Russian
Ideas, social49, 61-62, 147-48,
494, 582, 631, 643-44, 645-46,
653-54
origin-61-62, 67, 484, 487,
633-35, 647-48
role in social development
88 , 90, 114. 147-55, 177-78,
333-34, 417-19, 422-423, 43132, 462-63, 646-47
Identity626
Ideology67-68, 470, 618-22, 62324, 630. 636, 643, 644, 653
specific laws of its develop
ment627-36
See also Aesthetics; Art; Basis
and superstructure; Ideas, so
cial; Literature; Morality; Phi
losophy;
Religion;
Right
(Law), legal relations; Science;
Social being and social con
sciousness; Theatre
In d ia 69
Individual and his role in histo
ry 127-29, 336, 418-19, 464,
630-631, 636-38, 640-41, 660-61,
671,
700-02, 729
Intelligentsia662, 671, 733-34
bourgeois and petty-bourgeois
in Russia383, 392-93, 46870. 490-93, 567-68, 580-81,
582-83, 605. 631-32, 662, 67172, 686
bourgeois and petty-bour
geois in the West529-30,
580-81
democratic in Russia99-109,
113-14, 117-23, 128-29, 142-47,
152-55, 159-60, 162-65, 17779, 299-300, 314-15, 336-60,
371-73, 393-94
democratic in the West 68889, 691-93, 696
socialist and proletarian in
Russia99-109, 143-44
SUBJECT
Interaction, criticism of theory of
factors
See also Basis and superstruc
ture; Historical materialism
Interest, class371, 374-76, 41618, 614, 621, 630, 638
proletarian69-79
International
first-140-41, 147, 157, 353
second354, 359
Ita ly 65
J
J apan 650
K
Kantian
philosophy425, 429,
450-60. 463. 464-67, 472-75, 484,
561, 621, 629, 630
See also Neokantianism
Katheder Sozialisten84, 192-93,
568
Knowledge. See Theory of know
ledge
Kulakdom. See Petty bourgeoi
sie Kulakdom
803
IN D E X
571-72, 581-82, 593-95, 60610, 615-17, 638, 639-41, 65556, 662-63, 672-77, 701, 73132
Liberalism94
in Russia51, 59, 92-95, 10002, 119-20, 122-23, 142, 34445,
707-12, 725-26
Literature505-06, 549-50, 62432. 635-39
ancient627
English628-29
-French-603, 627-29, 635-36,
654-55
See also French dramatic litera
ture, 17th-18th cent.; Drama;
Critique and Publicism
Gorman429, 529-31
Russian378-79. 497, 545,
572.
582-83, 627-28, 642-43,
660, 685-86, 705-08. 709-10,
711-12, 716, 731, 735
See also Narodnik writers
Logic-401, 406-07, 409. 417, 550,
634-35. 653-54, 683-84, 721
M
L
Lassalleanism 78, 401, 544-45,
548, 593
Lavrism and Lavrists 146-48, 167,
170-72, 579, 639
Leaps
See
Dialecticstransformation
of quantitative changes into
qualitative
Legal Marxists446-47, 574-75,
580, 583, 653-73
Liberal Narodism 120-22, 463,
572-73, 663-65, 667-68, 686, 69296, 700, 707-08, 731-33
fight against Marxism 331,
468-69, 471, 480-81, 521-22,
540-41, 544-45, 555-61, 57879, 589-95, 604, 606, 609-11,
622, 641-57, 664-68, 669-82,
686,
694-95, 696-709, 712-35
on ways of Russias economic
development 190-91, 195-97,
210-11, 214-15, 232, 237. 239,
251-53, 259, 261-62, 268-69,
271-72, 517-22, 525-26. 52729, 672-73, 678-81, 684-86,
697, 736-37
subjective
method488-89,
510-11, 514, 517-23. 525-30,
533-36, 547-48, 550-51, 560-61,
Manchester School 57, 131-32, 211

Malthusianism 510, 516-17
Marriage and fam ily413-14, 58993
Marxism67,, 68-69, 89-90, 11415, 365-66, 401-02, 421-23, 43335. 490-93, 574, 582-83, 585,
606, 615-16, 638-40, 641-42, 64344, 659-60, 671-73, 675-76, 71718
See also Dialectics; Dialectical
materialism; Historical ma
terialism; Political economy
Marxist; Scientific socialism
Marxism in Russia427, 434, 674,
677-81, 682-84, 686-87, 723-24,
728-32, 734-36
See also Emancipation of La
bour group; Social Democra
cy Russian
Materialism408, 412, 421-22, 428,
452, 458-59, 462, 464-65, 470,
482-83. 514-15. 534, 537-39, 572,
632, 641-42, 660, 723-24, 725-26
See also Being; Consciousness;
Dialectical materialism; En
glish philosophy, 17th and
18th cent.materialism;
Natural-scientific
material-
SUBJECT IN D E X
804
ism; Russian materialism, 19th

cent.; Theory of knowledge;
Vulgar materialism
Matter (philosophy)455-56, 48283,
563-65, 574-75, 576, 577,
615-16, 620-21, 642, 652
Means of production584-85
Mercantilism402-06, 630-32, 63839
Metaphysics
(method) 128-29,
164, 270, 539, 557-58, 559-60,
562-63, 572-73, 614, 620-21, 641,
671-72, 677, 719-20, 721
See also Dialecticsand meta
physics; Reason
Method 163-64, 536
Mode of production370-71, 589,
601-02
Monarchy 209-10, 632
Monism483, 564-65, 626. 725-26
M orality408, 411, 425-26, 46568, 487, 488-90, 504-05, 508, 55859,
568-69, 614, 629-30, 640-41,
644, 686
Movement454, 473-74, 539-40,
563-64, 581-82, 583-84, 614-15,
634-35, 638-3'J
Mysticism440-41, 632
Mythology438, 440-41
N
Narodism (general description)
129-31, 164-65, 371-75, 395-96,
400, 427, 430
See also Liberal Narodism; Na
rodnik writers; Revolutionary
Narodism
Narodnik writers240-42, 243-46,
251-52, 269
Narodnaya Volya and Narndovoltsi 174-75, 339-40
attitude
towards
political
struggle51-52, 62-65, 88, 9091, 117-18, 171-72, 175-76,
277-81
on seizure of power91-92,
95-101, 117-20, 126-27, 16061,
167, 212-13, 286, 295-310,
328-29, 356-57
theoretical views 51. 63-66,
89,
90-103, 109, 111-113, 11721. 122-23, 125-29, 166-167,
172, 174-75, 275-86, 290-95,
302-03, 305-11, 315-29
view on motive forces of Rus
sian revolution65-66, 91-99,
102-03, 277-78, 280-302, 33940, 372-73
N ation384, 478
Natural philosophy 550-51, 600-
01
Natural-scientific materialism
454-55, 458-59, 473-74, 552, 72324,
725-26
Nature367-68, 371-72, 414-15,
436, 459-60, 473-74, 483-84, 55051,
574, 587, 588, 606, 613-14,
615-16, 640-42, 657-58
Necessity and accident 131-32,
353-54, 402, 405, 406-07, 419,
420, 430-431, 525, 656-57, 659-62
See also Freedom and necessity
Neokantianism424-25, 456-57,
464-65, 508, 725-26
Nietzseheism449
N obility and aristocracy624,
628, 632-33
Notion420. 437, 450-51, 458-59,
607, 632-33
O
Object and subject455, 458-59,
460-61, 640-42
P
Partisanship in art, literature and
science640-41
Party372-77
bourgeois parties354-56
Marxism on role of workingclass party49, 52, 61, 10003.
178-79, 307-08, 333-34,
343-349, 353-56, 360
socialist parties360-61
See also Social-Democracy
Peasant movement
in Russia49, 62-63, 147-48
in the West50
Peasant
Reform, 1861-133-34,
143-44, 147-48, 239, 244, 262-71,
678-81
Peasantry
in Russia57-58, 62-63, 9293, 97-98, 125-26, 129-30, 14355, 308-13, 347-49, 356-57,
359, 360-62, 392-93, 394-95,
399-400, 428, 681-83
in Western Europe 142, 30910,
316, 687-88
People359-60, 372-74, 377-78,
383, 392-93, 410, 418-19, 426,
466-467, 495-96, 499-501, 503,
530-31, 532-33, 539-41, 660-62,
676, 683-84, 729
SUBJECT IN D E X
805
Politics 77-84, 86-89, 384-85, 40809, 472, 495-96, 611-12, 613,

632-33
See also Economicsand poli
tics
Population 510
Positivism511-13, 532-34, 59293.
727-28
Possibility and reality 132, 552688
53, 659
See also Intelligentsia bour
Practice336, 566-67, 600-01, 601geois and petty-bourgeois in
02, 618-19, 622, 641-42, 660-61,
Russia; Intelligentsia bour
669-70
geois and petty-bourgeois in
See also Theory and Practice
the West
Primitive communal system 130Phenomenon451-52, 454-56, 45835, 239-40, 415-16, 469-70, 480,
60,
470, 473-74, 544, 559-60,
558-59, 587-89, 626-28
611-12, 613
commune 131-32,
161-62,
Philosophy402, 405, 406-07, 419,
254-55, 627-28
551. 561-62,
618-19,620-21, See also Primitive religion
623-24
economic relations
muin problem of460-61, 482S e e also Play and labour
83,
610-11
Primitive communism
object of 560-62, 567-68, 725S o p Primitive communal sys
26
temcommune
Philosophy of history655-56
Primitive religion418. 614
of bourgeois liberal thinkers
Production84-86. 95-96, 97-98,
370-71, 495-96, 583-84, 600-01,
353-354. 359. 473-74, 510-11,
603, 623-24, 651, 717-19
515-16, 528-29, 599-600, 631-32,
n[ Russian thinkers,
19th
659, 676-77, 688-89, 695-97, 732cent. 490-93, 598-600, 60134
02 , 608, 610-11
Production relations61, 67-68,
reactionary bourgeois concep
77-78, 97-98, 132-238, 416-18,
tions 571-72, 588-89, 610-12,
586,
590-91, 592-93, 601-02, 605,
613, 636, 659-60, 725-26
606. 608-10, 611-12, 614-16, 617See also French historians of
20. 627-28, 631-32, 644-45, 647Restoration philosophy
of
649, 652-53. 659. 675-76, 677,
history; French materialists,
688, 698-700, 706, 732-33
18th cent. philosophy of his
Productive forces 66-68, 77-78,
tory; Hegelian philosophy
137-38, 238. 353. 358, 370-71,
philosophy of nistory; His
414-15, 422-23, 548-49, 588-91,
torical materialism
592-93, 599-604, 608-16, 617-18,
Physiocrats209-10, 405-06
625-28, 630. 643, 647-48, 653,
Play and labour470
657-59. 663-64, 671, 692-93, 698Political economy 55-58, 618-19,
99
644. 734-35
Progress412, 557-59, 676-78
classical bourgeois71-72, 83Proletariat (working class)74-75,
85, 405-06, 415-16, 425-26,
141-42. 189-90, 191-93, 423-24,
655-63
510-11, 515-17, 552, 568-69,
619-20
and bourgeoisie52. 82-84, 86 Marxist62, 85-86, 191-92,
87,
189-95, 212-13. 334-35,
321-22, 643-45, 649-50
338, 370, 393-95, 481, 718-19
Russian237, 518-20, 544,
as class74-83, 85-86, 95-96,
598-99, 662-66, 694-95, 712102, 137-42, 392-93, 416-17,
15, 731
676
vulgar405. 495-96, 510, 515 condition in bourgeois soci
16. 518, 522-23, 529-30, 563,
ety78-79, 81-82, 85-86, 138568-69, 601-03, 611-16, 63839, 192-93, 194-95, 468-69,
39, 682-83
681-83, 688-89, 690-91
and their role in history
393, 444-45
criticism of theory of heroes
and crowd 510, 576-78, 66062, 733-34
Petty bourgeoisie 622-23, 686,
689-90, 691
Kulakdom211-12, 683-84,
806
SUBJECT IN D E X
historical role of51,

7071, 74, 82-83, 95-96, 137-38,
356-57, 372-73, 392-94. 400,
422-23, 426, 468-69. 530-531,
618-19, 649-50, 683-84
in Russia80, 92-94, 102-03,
120-21, 157-58, 159, 213-22,
276-77, 300-02, 330, 332-34,
340-49, 353-57, 359-62, 39295, 398-400, 472, 683-84
Property (ownership)353, 47778. 565-07, 540-41, 548-49, 55859, 591-95, 596, 602-03, 605-06,
617-18, 627-28, 670-71, 676
Property (quality)453, 473-74
Proudhonism55-59, 61-62. 69-70,
88, 117-18. 169-71, 173, 191-92,
321-24, 430-31, 515-16. 676
Psychics71-72, 482, 625-26
Psychology 550-51, 614-15. 616,
617-19, 622-23. 624-27, 633-34,
636, 653-54, 725-28
Q
Quality and quantity
See Dialectics transformation
of quantitative changes into
qualitative
R
Races and race theories523, 586-
88
Rationalism 560-61
Reason417-18, 424-26, 429-30,
445.
474-75, 551, 558-59, 570,
575-76, 589, 621, 630, 658-61,
671-72, 721, 723-24
Reformism 424-25
Religion481, 629, 631-33, 654-55
and morality488-99. 511-12
and proletariat445-46
and science 209-11, 471
and sects 502
definition and essence405-06,
435-36. 444-46, 460
evolution of religion401.
405-06. 409-10, 424-25, 445
role498-99
See also Buddhism; Primitive
religion
Revisionism and fight against it
philosophical447-48, 458-59
Revolution
bourgeois revolutions, 19th
cent. 138-40, 205, 442-43
English
revolution,
17th
cent.497-99, 632-33
French, 18th cent. 209-11,
238-39, 329, 368-69, 496-97,
623-24
general teaching77-84, 30306,
366-68, 395-96, 464-66,
468-69, 617-19
Russian bourgeois-democrat
ic356-57,
359-61,
374-75
socialist 52, 62, 77-78, 79,
86-87, 95, 96-98, 104, 125,
128-29, 137-38, 142, 145-46,
147-48, 155-62, 179-80, 213-14,
237, 276, 353, 358-59, 37475
Revolutionary democrats in Rus
sia 163-64, 709-11
See also Belinsky, V. G.; Chornyshevsky, N. G.; Herzen, A. I.;
Revolutionary Narodism
Revolutionary movement in Russia359-60, 393, 399-400
See also Emancipation of La
bour group; Narodnaya Volya
and Naroaovoltsi; Revolution
ary Narodism; Social-Democ
racy Russian; Zemlya i VoRevofutionarv
Narodism49-52,
63-65, 80, 88-91, 99-101, 118-20,
142-48, 165-66, 356-57, 373-74,
398-99, 433-34, 468-69
See also Bakuninism in Russia;
Blanquism in Russia; Chor
ny Peredel; Herzeninitiator
of Narodism; Lavrism and
Lavrists; Narodnaya Volya;
Zemlya i Volya
Right (Law), legal relations35354, 359, 401, 405-06, 426, 49597, 500-02, 508, 513-15, 520-21,
539-540, 572, 594-98, 000-05,
508, OU, 614, 618-20, 626-27,
632-33, 644
Romanticism431-32
in the West630-32, 634-35,
637-39
Russia
economic development96-98,
124, 133-34, 354-55, 359, 391,
392-95, 398-400, 430, 530-32,
678-81, 696. 703-05, 728-29
See also Capitalism in agricul
turein Russia; Capitalism in
Russia; Liberal Narodism on
paths of Russias economic
development; Russian village
commune
SUBJECT I N D E X
foreign po licy 383-84, 398400
historical development 36869,
377-78, 382-86, 389-91
state and social system 35981, 384-85, 388-90, 393-95,
649-50
See also Autocracy in Russia;
Peasant Reform , 1861
Russian m aterialism , 19th cent.
723-25
See also Belinsky, V .G .; Cherny
shevsky, N. G.; Herzen, A. I.
Russian village com m une 360-61,
372, 394-95, 398, 399-40Q, 68284, 686, 731-32
criticism of theories of R ussias
exceptional economic develop
m en t 49-50, 59, 64-66. 68-69,
88,
117-18, 125-26, 127-30,
141-44, 165. 176-77. 183-84,
240-44, 273-76, 281-90, 377-78,
525, 684-86
disintegration of 88-89, 104OS,
125-26, 143-44. 161-62,
230, 239-41, 243-44, 288-89,
309-10, 330. 344-55, 359-60,
377, 683-84, 685-86
and socialism 56-58, 68-69,
88, 125-26, 129-30, 135, 13637,
138-39, 142-44, 145-46,
149, 153-55. 161-65, 252-53,
344, 359, 360-62
S
Scepticism 449-52, 460-61
Sec also H um ism
Scholasticism 453
Science 83-85. 87. 118-19, 145-46,
165, 377, 533-34, 561, 605-07,
619-20, 621, 638-39, 649-50, 65354, 662-63, 699, 714, 715
natural sciences 164, 365-67,
454-57, 458-59, 462, 470, 48384,
512-13, 531-34, 541-43,
550-51, 554-56, 559-61, 58688,
590-91. 606-07, 637, 63839, 640-41, 645-48, 659-60,
699, 723-37
social sciences 61, 67, 83-86,
209-11, 365-66, 401-05, 416-17,
418-19, 421, 528-30, 559-61,
603,
605-07, 610-11, 618-20,
641, 644-45, 647-48, 650-51,
652-53, 656-57, 725-28
See also H istory (science); Re
lig io n and science
80T
Scientific socialism
See Socialism scientific.
Sensation, perception 449-51,
452-53, 454, 473-74, 483-84, 51112, 620, 724-25
Sensualism 483, 484, 487
Serfdom in R ussia 133, 382-83,
389-90, 431-33, 681-82
See also Peasant Reform of 1861
Slavery 422-23, 583, 587-88,
604,
619-20
S lav ophilism 118-19, 150-51, 165,
185-86,
190,
368-69,
392,
731
Social being and social conscious
ness 67-68, 78-79, 88, 96-97,
137-38, 147-55, 161-63, 209-10,
608-09, 659, 661-62, 671-72, 68384,
696-97, 700-02, 733-34
Social D arw inism 659-60, 727-29
Social-Democracy
Russian 55-56, 151, 273-74,
276-77, 300-01, 331-50, 35362, 398-99
See also E m ancipation of L a
bour group
West European 52, 55-56, 74,88-89, 195-96, 204-07, 336,
372-73, 472
Socio-economic form ation 431-32,
626-27
See also Capitalism ; Feudalism;
P rim itiv e com m unal system;
Slavery
Social relations 66, 96-97, 136-37,
353, 414-15, 431-33, 436-37, 44344, 511-12, 566-68, 586-87, 59091,
604, 622, 640-41, 658-59
Social U to pianism 134-36, 39394, 424-26, 433-34, 505-07, 51113, 516-20, 527-30. 531-32, 62425, 682-83, 685-86, 689-93, 724,
728-29, 731-33, 764
Socialism 51, 52-56, 69-70, 87,
97-98, 11.3-14, 164, 353-54, 473,
478-79
Socialism scientific (theory) 4950, 61, 66-67, 70-71, 76-85, 87,
90, 113-14, 115, 122, 135-36, 13839, 167-68, 169-71, 302-05, 306,
309-10, 321, 328-29, 399, 416-17,
446,
464-65, 468-69
Socialism u to p ia n 55-56, 87, 13536, 402, 405. 418, 472, 547
E n g lish 518-19
German 527-29, 683-84. 731
R ussian 55-56, 87-88, 90-91
See also French utopian social
ism; Revolutionary Narodism
SUBJECT IN D E X
808
Society 370-71, 402, 415-16, 43132, 458-59, 467-68, 504, 556-57,

599-602, 603-04, 608-09, 612-13,
626-27, 628, 636-37
Sociology, sociological views508
bourgeois in the West317-71,
495-96, 497-98, 509-10, 60304, 610-13, 615-16, 619-20,
637,
689-90, 691-92, 725-27
Russian 510, 531-32, 535-36,
551, 597-600, 601-02, 604, 61011,
699
Soo also Historical materialism;
Subjective method in sociol, gy
Solipsism458-59, 460-61
Sophistry 153-54, 702
Spain285-87
Spinozism438, 461, 561, 563-64
State 55-59, 62, 73-80, 88, 353-55,
390, 394-95, 413-14, 418-19, 42526, 490-93, 570, 610-11, 688, 69091
Student movement in Russia
380-82, 400
Subject. See Object and subject
Subjective idealism449-50, 45152, 458-59, 460-61, 475
See also Berkeleian philosophy;
Empiriomonism;
Humism;
Neokantianism; Solipsism
Subjective method in sociology
128-29, 433-34, 443-44, 515-18,
521-22, 525-27, 531-34, 536, 55152, 639-41, 656-57, 659-62, 72627, 735-36
See also Liberal Narodismsub
jective method
Substance449-50, 483, 564-65,
569-70, 615-16
T
Technique and Technology405-06
Terror52, 117-20, 122, 159-61,
174, 179-80, 339-40, 345-47, 35657,
360-61, 373-75, 386-87
Theatre630-31
Theology 511-14
Theory 89-90, 432-33, 488-89,
566-67, 620-22, 529
and practice 629, 641
Theory of knowledge
criticism of anti-Marxist ideal
ist theories448-62, 467-68
knowabilitv of world419-20,
452-53, 458-60, 473-75, 660-61
See also Abstraction; Essence;
Experiment; Hieroglyphs
(theory); Object; Phenome

non; Practice; Rationalism;
Sensation; Sensualism; Thing
in itsslf; Thiuking; Truth
Thing in itself 450-54, 456, 45961,
473, 722-25
Thinking370, 406-09, 411, 45152, 457-58, 459-61, 474-75, 504OS,
513-14, 560, 563-64, 633-34
Time and space451-52, 455-57,
577-78
Tragical in life and art627-28
Tribe466-67, 589-90, 601-03, 62627
True socialists in Germany 68,
88
Truth609-10, 620-21, 638-41

concrete402, 405, 626-27,
677, 685-86
objective470, 638-39, 730
U
Utilitarianism 465-67
V
Violence, theory of violence36566, 367-68, 370, 502-04
Voluntarism.
See
Subjective
method in sociology
Vperyodovtsi. See Lavrism and
Lavrists
Vulgar materialism483-84, 608
W
Wars372
Westernism434-35, 703-04, 730
Working class. See Proletariat
Working-class
(labour)
move
ment-401, 423-24
in Russia80, 341-42, 35455,
359-60, 393-95, 398-400
in the West 69, 74-75, 79,
89-90, 365, 398, 478-79, 688
Y
Young
Hegelians401, 405-06,
429, 434-44, 574-75, 608, 639-40,
641, 654-55, 689-95, 696, 702
Z
Zemlya i Volya49-50, 62-63, 7980, 126-27, 340-41

Plekhanov, Selected Philosophical Works, Vol. I (OCRed)

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Plekhanov, Selected Philosophical Works, Vol. I (OCRed)

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Plekhanov, Selected Philosophical Works, Vol. I (OCRed)

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Georgi

Translated from the Russian

This five-volume edition includes the most important and valuable of

Translation into English. Progress Publishers 1974

V. Fomina, P L E K H A N O V S HOLE IN THE DEFENCE AND SUB

SOCIALISM AND THE PO LIT ICA L S T R U G G L E ............................

Chapter I. A Few References to H i s t o r y ........................................

Chapter I I . Capitalism in Russia ....................................................

Chapter I I I . Capitalism aDd Communal Land T e n u r e ................

Chapter IV. Capitalism and Our Tasks

PROGRAM M E OF THE SOCIAL-DEMOCRATIC EMANCIPATION

SECOND DRAFT PROGRAM M E OF THE RUSSIAN SOCIALDEMOCRATS .

A N EW CHAMPION OF AUTOCRACY, OR Mr. L. T IK H O M IR O V S

From the A u t h o r ..........................................................................

[FOREW ORD TO THE FIRST E D IT IO N (FROM THE TRANS

B O U R G E OIS OF DAYS GONE BY

THE DEVELOPM ENT OF THE MONIST V IE W OF H IST O R Y

Appendix I . ONCE A G A IN Mr. M IK H A IL O V S K Y , ONCE M ORE

Appendix I I . A FEW W ORDS TO OUR O P P O N E N T S ....................

PLEKHANOVS ROLE IN THE DEFENCE

Georgi V alentinovich Plekhanov, the first Russian Marxist,

Plekhanov began his social, political and literary work at the

The Russo-Turkish W ar of 1877-78, which had just ended, in

first political demonstration in Russia, which took place in 1876

The first Russian Marxist organisation the Em ancipation

unshakable faith in the final victory of the ideals of the working

ism on a number of questions were connected w ith his fallin g

International dogmas of the necessity of economic conditions

social theories, it gives a b rilliant characterisation of the scienti

od into a number of foreign languages and soon became widely

In fighting against idealism, metaphysics and the reactionary

ment of capitalism, to put an end to the breaking up by capi

IN TRODU CTORY ESSAY

tariat. Plekhanov was the first in Russia lo oppose to their utopia

Russia and that, therefore, the bourgeois revolution would pass

means and objects of production to social ownership, which would

materialist philosophy as the inevitable anti natural result of the

The striving to single out the most important in the phenomena

This moans that the qualities of the social environment depend

sides of social lift* are interdependent. Historical necessity does

son. The service rendered by Marx consists in having discovered

development of society. Thus, in his early works, particularly in

of conscious and organised activity: I hoy can only subordinate

crowd, as contrasted to the hero. The crowd, as the Narodniks

gists views on this question and deriding their immense conceit;

to bo able to lead the crowd wherever they please, and to mould

See this volume,

into classes there is always a dom inant ideology, which is the

relations, the dependence of lhe former upon the latter, is not

Marxists attribute great importance to ideas, ideals, although

sociology of the Narodniks and proved (hat idealism is akin to

materialism a kind of Spinozism. But it would be incorrect to

Our notions and conceptions of objccts ami phenomena of the

The denial of the objectivity of truth by the subjectivists on

greatly indebted lo him . He unmasked unscientific and reaction

great services to human thought. At the same lime Plekhanov

tendencies in the development of nature and society are

in gradual development, or leaps; all the more do transitions from

saw the principle, the specific feature of dialectics which shows

l a< jti& e ti< *oSlttS iaUi *ltflie r

l a< jti& e ti< oSlttS iaUi ltflie r

3tt-4ic- v-ivp^tT*Bkr s not a

l . > -if rtilty. T.-ypwj

ln of dt I#cV>*n nd Tlt-,f\

"inl Un4 < LM yolU kai *nd

ittnL ttaciAblfhji.n( n t clftgrtws lietw^^tfeeifvoli^ltaffMy me

^Vr,/ ' JV'--<*>-''-'^Cf'^i