Monday, October 5, 2015

What Drives World History?



When lecturing on the philosophy of history in the early 1820s, German philosopher Georg Hegel remarked astutely that with regard to historical development, theory always comes late to the party.  Hegel’s point, which he explained as a metaphor about a German owl leaving for its nightly hunt hours after dusk, was that the construction of a theoretical model of history always looks backward.  Hegel has been called the ‘most materialist philosopher of idealism’ by some, but his perspectives on historical agency and theory became the foundation of world-history according to Ranajat Guha.  As demonstrated by later scholars and philosophers—including Marx, Dunyavskaya, Braudel, Wallerstein, Lughod, Arrighi, and Chakrabarty—a historically materialist conception of history does not necessarily have to remain “economically materialist” in the most strict sense.  World-history is driven by a series of material and ideal factors; including, but not limited to, the expansion of world-economic systems from material bases of society as well as the cultivation of national identities, the permeation of culture and belief, as well as social ideologies to conform with material conditions.  The strengths of certain models and theories can naturally synthesize to demonstrate, as Jairus Banaji has argued, that theory must reflect the history as opposed to merely explain and frame it.  Synthesizing models can further develop a 21st century materialist conception of history that accepts the dynamism of cultural and social movements while retaining a strong emphasis on the material base of society.
Economic materialism, also known by other variants such as structuralist Marxism, had its roots in Marx’s early philosophical writings on historical causality and the anarchist writings of Proudhon.  Elaborated on lightly in philosophical essays from the 1840s, Marx exemplified his class analysis of history with The Communist Manifesto and examined the economic relationships of class in Capital Volumes I-III.  In Capital, Marx discussed crises of historical development, which extend from economic contradictions in production, exchange, and the reproduction of daily life.  Pinpointing such tendencies such as the necessity for productive expansion as well as a falling profit rate over time, Marx concluded that capitalism created its own boundaries and limits.  This perspective contributed to much discussion on the role of class as the vehicle by which history is driven, on a road where the nation-state passes by as another actor.  One of the most influential world historians to follow in the footsteps of Marx also favored deconstructing Hegel’s statehood thesis, Fernand Braudel.
When discussing the importance of a new avenue of studying history that expands beyond the nation-state, Braudel emphasized that his longue durée was a reworking of Marx’s early perspectives on history.  Long durations, and the examination of material bases, Braudel contended, was Marx’s ‘just milieu’.  Braudelian schools of thought expand on the Hegelian conception of world-history by negating Hegel’s statehood thesis—the notion that a nation, or a state, provides the only foundation for the prose of historical argument.  In detracting from this approach, Braudel is what Raya Dunayevskaya would later describe as a humanist.  For Braudel, world-history emphasized geographic space and the interconnection of peoples across said space.  Braudel’s seminal work on The Mediterranean extrapolated this perspective by examining a geographic region and the socioeconomic centers of Southern Europe, Western Asia, and Northern Africa. 
Two main strengths can be identified from Braudelian approaches, the first being the break with the model of Eurocentrism established by Hegel’s statehood thesis.  Dunayevskaya would later call for a ‘return to Hegelian theory’ in the 1980s, but using the logic of Braudel: for her, Braudel synthesized the positive aspects of Hegelian dialectical theory while negating the unnecessary and superficial identities of statehood as a condition for historical agency.  The second major strength of Braudelian approaches to world-history is the emphasis on people and trade; these forms of history unearth levels of analysis that would be unimaginable in an examination of the history of a state.  This more humanist approach necessitates a longue durée and the histories of smaller elements; such as specific commodity production, economic power shifts, as well as the ongoing role of cities in the modern period.  As would be expected, however, no approach to world-history is perfect.
The largest deficiency in Braudelian approaches to world-history is applicability in the classroom.  Thomas Bender explained quite well that to abandon the nation as holding a central role in world-history is to make the same mistake as focusing agency only on the nation.  Particularly in the contemporary period, the nation-state plays a fundamental role in the enforcement and production of national ideologies, defense and war-making, and enforcement of trade agreements.  As demonstrated by both Bender as well as other scholars such as Giovanni Arrighi, the 20th century would be an incomplete history without an analysis of the role and influence of nations.  Students of history would have a hard time dealing with the broad conceptualizations across geographic space while ignoring the national and cultural identities shared by the peoples discussed.  A less important, but still noteworthy, deficiency in Braudelian theory is the lack of an overall model or framework for contextualizing world-history—which extends from abandoning the Hegelian model but not replacing it.  It did not take long, however, for newer ideas to synthesize out of Braudelian schools to produce such models.
Immanuel Wallerstein’s theory of world-systems attempted to build on Braudelian thought to contextualize a framework for historical development, with an economic base.  Acutely focused on capitalism as a world-economic system, Wallerstein set out to analyze the formation of what he termed the ‘modern’ world-system with the rapid advancement of agricultural technology in the late 15th and 16th centuries (dubbed the Long 16th Century).  The model which emerged by the 17th century was a hegemonic system with a capitalist Core, located in Northwestern Europe, a precapitalist semi-peripheral located in Western Asia and the Americas, and a semifeudal periphery in the colonizing Third World.  At first glance, Wallerstein’s work appears to be an intellectual reworking of Marx’s materialist conception of history; which also emphasized the origin of capitalism with agriculture in the 16th century.  Upon closer note, however, Wallerstein does not utilize a strict class analysis nor does he rely on what Sam Gindin called the fallbacks of traditional Marxism:  falling rates of profit, and necessity for productive expansion.  Instead, Wallerstein identified economic pressures as the incentives for historical change.  The limitations of feudal production in the 14th and 15th centuries, for example, did not hurt the lower classes the most; instead, it most economically disadvantaged the well-to-do peasants and landowners, who then found incentive to invest in agricultural technology and expand the physical and productive capacities of their economic systems.
World-systems theory emphasizes two central points, both of which have their strengths and weaknesses.  First, Wallerstein necessitates at least some agency with the state:  It is the state, he contends, which facilitates the means by which capital accumulation can occur.  Without laws to protect investments, enforce rent laws, and patent commodities, there would be ‘no incentive’ for producers to engage in large-scale production that would produce miniscule profits.  This emphasizes Bender’s point about the inability to negate the state’s role in world-history, but it also binds world-history to specific forms of nation-states.  The ‘modern world-system’ model is ‘modern’ in the sense that it is hegemonic, and that the ‘modern’ European world is in the commanding heights.  Secondly, Wallerstein also emphasizes a fixed model of world-economies—a three-tiered hierarchy that can only exist on a world-scale.  This is extremely useful in classroom settings, as it helps to break down post-French Revolutionary world-history into First, Second, and Third worlds for students to then explore the input/output pressures between each.  It is also a difficult model to accept because of its perceived inflexibility, which scholars Arrighi and Lughod both addressed as follow-ups to Wallerstein’s work.  In Lughod’s words, Wallerstein’s formation-based approach lacks the dynamism of world-history.  Lughod instead preferred a ‘restructuring’ approach to describing the succession of world-economies. 
Eric Hobsbawm developed Marx’s class analysis into an intellectual attempt to explain the development and supremacy of capitalist class relations following the French Revolution in 1789 and the English industrial revolution of the 1830s and 40s.  To Hobsbawm, the French Revolution succeeded in ending the formal class relations of the previous era but failed to erect a new material basis for society.  Instead, coupled with the rise of large-scale industrial production in the 1830s, new class relationships emerged to fit Marx’s depiction of a bifurcated capitalist world between proletarians and bourgeoisie.  To explain the causality of said developments, Hobsbawm utilizes Marx’s ‘crises thesis’ as a crux—insisting that shifts in specific relations to production coincide directly with either an expansion of productive capacity or the offsetting of lost profit rates.  Charles Breunig criticized Hobsbawm’s approach for lacking alternative explanations.  Hobsbawm’s economic materialism failed to explain, Breunig contended, the importance of generating a national identity and ideology to reify and explain the development of new class relationships.  Whereas for Hobsbawm the failure of the anticapitalist 1848 revolts resulted from the entrenchment of power by upper classes, Breunig identified the role of ideology and nationalism as social tools which divided class groups.  Michael Adas as well explained the difficulty in focusing on class, since it ignored the large extent to which ideology and national consciousness drove the everyday interactions of people within a society.  The strength of economic materialism lay in its simplistic approach to historical causality; almost as simple as merely replacing Hegel’s statehood thesis with a “classhood thesis.”  In the classroom, it most certainly would provide an easy model to frame causality.  Its weakness however lay with a tendency to revert to structuralist explanations for development, and a failure to see the dynamism of class interaction within a nation.
Scholars of 21st century historical materialism, such as Banaji, Leo Pantich, Gindin, and David McNally, have since taken cue from Dunayevskaya to reinterpret the role of the Hegelian dialectic with respect to world-history.  The largest weakness of the materialist conception of history, according to Pantich and Gindin, is its tendency to extrapolate theory as laws of historical change—such as insisting that an end to capitalism necessitates the rise of socialism.  According to Banaji, the theories developed through historical analysis must reflect the socioeconomic material realities of the periods and people discussed.  Banaji thus takes issue with concrete models such as world-systems and Hobsbawm’s class analysis; they fail to account for the dynamic composition of capitalist and peripheral societies, which are made up of more than simply two class groups, or three economic spheres.  Class analysis, Banaji and McNally both point out, cannot explain the rise of Islam as a major factor in the development of Western hegemony in the 13th century nor the rise of Locke’s theory of universal monetary values in 17th century Britain.  This more humanist historical materialism should be seen as a synthesis of past models and approaches, including examining the importance and dynamism between economic conditions and political/national ideals, while retaining the philosophical foundation of materialism.  The largest drawback of 21st century historical materialism (humanist Marxism) is that it is relatively new.  It does not have enough scholars to fill in the gaps or engage in a revisionist endeavor against previous class-based and economically materialist works.
World-history is not driven by any one particular factor—class, statehood, ideology.  It is rather a dynamic sway between the relations of all these agencies.  As Dunayevskaya described it, the conditions of a society set the boundaries for its ideals, but its ideals nevertheless have the capacity to force individuals to transform their social conditions.  A humanist historical materialism helps to illuminate this, but the field is burgeoning and growing.  Nevertheless, the Braudelian, Wallersteinian, and Hobbsian approaches provide a foundation for the ongoing development of a world historical consciousness and historicity.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Article Review: Panitch and Gindin's "Marxist Theory and Strategy"



The Future of Historical Materialism in Theory and Practice


                I was genuinely moved by the most recent highlight article in Historical Materialism’s 23.2 edition by Leo Panitch and Sam Gindin.  For those unable to obtain a copy of HM 23.2, or for those who don’t have a University Proxy, I hope that this summary will provide at least the key points; because this is an argument and assessment of historical materialism that cannot be overlooked.  While I will do my best to explain my own thoughts, reactions, and perceptions of the article, nothing can substitute reading the author’s own words.  I highly recommend a subscription to Historical Materialism Journal, which can be purchased for about $50-80 depending on your student status.  Otherwise, you can always purchase individual copies of their journals on their website from Brill Publishing (link will be posted at the bottom).
                So let’s dive right in.  The title of the article is aptly put:  Marxist Theory and Strategy:  Getting Somewhere Better.  Some might read that and be confused by the title, but for the vast majority of Marxists out there it need not be said that presently the work of historical materialists, Marxist scholars, and social activists need a more grounded understanding of how theory transforms into practice; and vice versa.
                On a basic, general level, the article calls for “better historical-materialist theorisations of capitalist competition, capitalist classes and capitalist states, and in particular the institutional dimensions of these—which is fundamental for understanding why and how capitalism has survived into the twenty-first century.”[i]  This is in part a rallying call for Marxist intellectuals and social activists to reassess their understandings of the capitalist world-system by integrating more advanced theories of socioeconomic development.  A critical example of this would be Giovanni Arrighi’s The LongTwentieth Century—a text that I have reviewed and given much praise.  Secondly, it is also a criticism of the existing theorisations by implying that there could be something “better.”  This is something we must take to heart and consider seriously:  What about existing theorisations are limiting?  The rest of the article spends most of its time explaining these limitations.
                The first major limitation suggested by the authors is the attempt by social theorists to explain capitalist competition through “market predominance,” or the relative size and growth of multinational corporations throughout the twentieth century.  Coca Cola, for example, holds a relative dominance over a specific market of commodities and goods, thereby limiting the expansion of more commodities in that market (it’s quite difficult to start up a new soda product).  But what exactly does the predominance of a multinational corporation tell us about capitalist competition other than that it generally creates conditions to destroy competition?  It’s one thing to point out a tendency for market predominance to come into fruition over time and another—even more revolutionary—thing to point out that this is a law of capitalist development, not a feature of it.  The “structural relationship between industry and finance” should be understood as a monopolistic fact of economic development under capitalism.  Laws exist suggesting that monopolies are not beneficial for the economy and should be broken up, but the fact remains that monopolization of a market is a canon feature of all industrial and financial production.  Few scholars and activists, the authors suggest, have addressed this fact and instead focus on the anti-monopoly laws as a feature for a greater society—wholly ignoring that political laws do little to disrupt entrenched economic laws.[ii]
                The second limitation put forth by the authors is the jargon-laced assessment of “class” done by Marxists from 1900 to the present.  Too often do we hear people break down “class” into abstract and ideal categories:  99% and 1%; rich and poor; proletarian and bourgeoisie.  Indeed, Marx himself used this sort of abstract dichotomy to explain the complex nature of class struggle.  But none of Marx’s writings ever suggested that these class groups were solidified and unchanging; in fact the very notion of a lack of quantitative and qualitative change over time would flip everything Marxism is based on upside down.  Instead, the authors suggest that “classes must be conceived as real collectivities whose changing formation based on common experiences and activities can be traced historically.”  It is thus the role of historical materialists to “investigate the changing capacities of classes to express their identity and interests over time, and the effects this has on the relative balance of class power.”  Now here’s a radical proposition that few Marxists have expressed:  Classes identity and class position do not necessarily coincide.  Someone might be an industrial proletarian but identify with their rich and affluent high school friend who now owns a major business.  Class, therefore, has two central components to it:  1) the economically-determined actuality of social position; and 2) the culturally and socially-determined perception of social position.  Classes change, and so do their understandings of themselves and their relationships to others.  Historical materialists must accept this and continue to investigate the mechanisms that cause the shift from one generation to another.[iii]
                Probably one of the best criticisms put forth by the authors is the limited assessment made by 21st century Marxists to explain the full nature of capitalist states.  The authors charge that “Marxism’s traditional weakness as a theory of the state was that it never went far beyond the assertion that ‘the state is merely a device for administering the common affairs.’”  I hear this argument repeated ad-nausium on Facebook groups:  ‘The state is a tool to be used by whatever class is in power.’  Such a notion is built off a façade; it’s an attempt to justify and defend the Marxist-Leninist practices of the Soviet Union and China from 1930-1980.  The authors, however, point to Ralph Miliband, who insisted on “the need for distinguishing between state power and class power, and the importance of clearly delimitating state institutions within capitalist societies.”  Consider America for example, which was a critical nation-state in the formation of the contemporary capitalist world-system after WWII.  The state did not merely wield control over its own territory, it also manifested conditions of capitalist development on all corners of the globe.  However, the conditions it created did not expand the power of the state and those employing it—rather, it expanded the power and reach of multinational corporations.  This built a symbiotic relationship that had previously only existed in infancy:  “capitalist states are dependent on capital accumulation for securing their own tax revenues and legitimacy, and their actions must always be located within the social field of class forces, but state power is not the same as class power.”  In short, we cannot fool ourselves into believing that the state is merely a pawn of one class or another; it is independent in many ways.  Attempts to negate this independence is an idealistic endeavor to ignore complexity for the sake of simplicity.[iv]
                The two final criticisms are broken into sections, but they essentially encapsulate the same question:  Why has capitalism survived?  Why has the proletarian industrial class not assumed their roles as the system’s ‘gravediggers’?  Building off previous arguments by World-Systems scholars and Autonomous social activists, the authors pose us to question our own understanding of the role played by the proletarian class.  Marxism has been charged in the past for being deterministic, in that it suggests an inherent downfall in capitalism because of visual and accountable contradictions.  P, the so-called ‘tendency for the rate of profit to fall’, is a prime example of this.  But as I’ve addressed in previous articles and the authors do in their own, the contradictions of capitalism should not be understood as the faults upon which a breakdown is inevitable.  Instead, they should be understood as the mechanisms which force capitalist economic systems to continuously revolutionize and expand their own production.  Some scholars, like Arrighi, argue that a bounce-back between financial and industrial investment accounts for at least part of the sustainability of capitalism through periods of sustained crises—such as the 1880s, the 1930s, the 1970s, and the current situation around us today.  The authors of the article suggest another powerful argument:  that the crises necessitate shifts to “alter the balance of class forces and change institutional infrastructures in ways which renew capital accumulation.”  In other words, the social institutions that we associate with capitalism (banks, reserves, productive centers) undergo massive quantitative and qualitative shifts to cope with the conditions of crises generated by capital’s contradictions.[v]
                All these limitations lead the authors to posit 9 “strategic guidelines,” which they say expresses the “nine lives we would like to think Marxism has before it really deserves to be pronounced dead.”  The first is that “capitalist crises cannot be counted on to produce conditions for socialist transformation.”  A powerful argument, one that many will not swallow easily. 
The second is that “there is no possibility of a return to the Keynesian welfare state.”  Too often do we hear individuals, liberal and conservative, express a desire to return to the old days, when the conditions were more pure for social change and the welfare state stood as an example for future development.  In light of globalization, the welfare state is increasingly seeing its own power dwindle in comparison to multinational corporations. 
The third guideline is that “the working class as the agency of socialist transformation needs to be problematized.”  This attacks the idea that once a class, or representatives of a class, obtain power that they immediately have begun transformation of social conditions.  As Deutscher wrote on the success of the Bolshevik’s seizing of power, their power “at best represented the idea of the class, not the class itself.”
The fourth strategy is one many are familiar with but hesitant to take to its full completion:  historical materialists, Marxists, and social activists must “build institutions which are directly engaged once again in organizing the proletariat into a class.”  The emphasis here is on organizing and representing the proletariat “broadly rather than narrowly” (such as only organizing industrial workers, or only organizing service workers, and not finding ways to link together the relationships of both groups).  This would ultimately prove that the “proletariat”, the “precariat” (affluent working class, or middle class), and “cybertariat” (laborers who’s input is solely on the internet) “are not in fact different classes.”
The fifth strategy is also familiar, but again riddled with complexity:  “making the public goods and services required to meet workers’ collective needs the central objective of class struggle.”  The authors do not mean within the confines of the nation state; but rather to the services and public institutions which extend beyond the state—unions, revolutionary political parties, social activist groups, internet cooperatives…etc.
The sixth strategy is something American workers in particular, along with European workers from Germany and France, have had a particular difficult time accepting; which is the rejection of “the goal of economic competitiveness.”  Too often is the competition between working groups utilized by the state and multinational corporations to curb interests into their favor.  By pitting the steel workers of America, for example, against the steel workers of China, the state and corporations void themselves of blame for poor economic conditions and instead open up a side-tracked competition that typically results in social and cultural racism and exclusion.
The seventh strategy, which is the idea that “international solidarity” should be advanced into the twenty-first century, is a pretty easy idea to understand.  In my opinion it could have been integrated with other points from other strategies, but I nevertheless understand the author’s desire to highlight it as well as build up the 9-lives metaphor.
The eighth strategy builds off the idea that “the most salient conflicts amidst capitalist globalization are within states rather than between states.”  As such, the authors suggest to us a strategy of transforming “the state in the context of a fundamental shift in the balance of class forces [that] must centrally involve transforming public institutional forms, purposes, and capacities.”  The previously mentioned notion that state power and class power must, then, be understood as an obstacle to overcome.  State power must, ultimately, become the expression of class power by “transforming” the institutional systems that makeup the nation-state.
Finally, the last strategy also builds off a powerful thesis that should be explored in more depth:  that “the types of parties that can transform working classes into leading agents of social transformation have yet to be invented.”  Again, this is an argument many Marxists and social activists will have trouble accepting—but at the very least they should consider its plausibility.  The final strategy, then, is “to start anew at creating the kinds of working-class political institutions which can rekindle the socialist imagination, make the goal of socialism relevant, and develop the socialist capacities to get there.”[vi]
I hope that this summary at least sparked some thoughts and ideas from readers, and ideally it urged a few to go and find the actual article.  All Marxists, intellectuals and social activists, could benefit from this healthy and ruthless criticism of the existing theorisations of historical materialism.  It forces us to question ourselves and consider what we may have missed amidst the massive social transformations made by capitalist development over the past 25 years.  Too often do I feel that we find ourselves relegating arguments with conditions to the 1930s, or arguing in the abstract about the potentiality of a proletarian revolution without the need to assess capitalist development in 2015.  The authors, Leo Panitch and Sam Gindin, offer a fresh and stark assessment to push us forward and leave behind the failed theorisations of the twentieth century.

Links:
http://booksandjournals.brillonline.com/content/journals/1569206x/23/2 (online copy of journal)


[i] Leon Panitch and Sam Gindin.  “Marxist Theory and Strategy: Getting Somewhere Better” in Historical Materialism, Vol. 23, No. 2: p. 3
[ii] Ibid, 5-7
[iii] Ibid, 7-8
[iv] Ibid, 8-10
[v] Ibid, 11-16
[vi] Ibid, The sections on “strategic guidelines” can be found on pages 16-20