this post-Marxist concept turned out to be – could only be – far more abstractly universalistic, and far less sensitive to social and historical specificity, than the ‘essentialist’ Marxist conception of socialism it was meant to replace.
Here, if anywhere, postmodernism represents a shift. Postmodernists, to the extent that they remain committed to egalitarian goals or to some kind of social justice, have not entirely escaped this contradiction between emancipatory aspirations and the repudiation of any moral or political foundation to support them. But, on the whole, postmodernism has more or less decisively resolved that contradiction in favour of fragmentation and difference. There is here no lingering attachment to any kind of ‘universalism’, ‘foundationalism’, ‘rationalism’, or the ‘Enlightenment project’. The end result has been not only to repudiate socialism or any other ‘universalistic’ politics, but effectively to deny the very possibility of political action altogether. Postmodernism cannot offer a plausible ground for its own emancipatory commitments or, for that matter, its own radical pluralism. In fact, it is hard to see how even a political principle as vague as the post-Marxist version of ‘radical democracy’ could survive the postmodernist destruction of all political foundations.
But, again, despite these ostensible shifts, and despite the intervening historical ruptures, the intellectual continuities between post-Marxism before the fall and today’s intellectual fashions are more striking than the changes. In some important respects, the collapse of Communism only accelerated intellectual processes that were already at work in the 1960s.
The militant sixties belonged mainly to a generation that had come to political and intellectual maturity in the midst of the long post-war boom. (I am here summarizing an argument I make at greater length in ‘A Chronology of the New Left and Its Successors, or: Who’s Old-Fashioned Now?’, Socialist Register, 1995.) Their relationship to capitalism was therefore rather more ambiguous than that of their immediate predecessors, the first generation of the ‘New Left’ whose formative experiences had been depression and war. The younger New Left, raised in the ‘Golden Age’ of capitalism and with a very different perception of capitalist normality, was at once deeply opposed to the ‘system’ and deeply preoccupied with its apparent success. There was, of course, a wide range of responses to this new reality; but among the ideas that most deeply penetrated important sections of the student movement (under the influence of thinkers like Herbert Marcuse) was that the hegemonic grip of consumer capitalism, especially its grip on the working class, had permanently neutralized the old oppositional agencies. This apparently left the field to more liberated intellectuals.
The outbreaks of working-class militancy in the late sixties and early seventies in various countries might have shaken that conviction, and they certainly provided ample testimony to the contradictions of the ‘Golden Age’. Yet many student radicals (and the mature academics they were to become) remained committed to one persistent idea: that students and their intellectual mentors would have to fill a historical vacuum left by the labour movement, and that class struggle in the traditional sense could be replaced by ‘ideological class struggle’ or the transmutation of theory into a ‘material force’.
With certain adjustments – above all, the disappearance of ‘class’ from ‘class struggle’ – an unbroken thread, from ‘ideological class struggle’ to the academic politics of ‘discourse’, connects some strands of 1960s student radicalism with today’s intellectual fashions (and even some varieties of Western student Maoism with today’s academic postmodernism: from ‘cultural revolution’ to textual deconstruction). The main transit point along the evolutionary line from one to the other was post-Marxism and its affiliated tendencies.
Whatever oppositional vigour the post-Marxist theorists of the 1980s had retained from their sixties youth is today all but gone. In the new post-left theories, there is no alternative to capitalism, and there is even less room for class politics than there was in post-Marxism. So there is a deep historical paradox here: an intellectual trend that began with a strong oppositional impulse in the ‘Golden Age’ of capitalism has come to fruition as a surrender to capitalism, at a moment when the system’s flaws and contradictions are more visible than at any other time since the Great Depression. What is more, there are signs that a new era of class politics is beginning, as the labour movement in various countries shows signs of renewal and people take to the streets in opposition to neo-liberalism and ‘globalization’. Nothing in the current fashions on the left has prepared them for this.
It is too soon to tell what effect these historical developments will have on today’s intellectual fashions. But recent eruptions of class struggle (together with the less attractive manifestations of ‘difference’ and ‘identity politics’ in Yugoslavia and elsewhere, or the increasingly obvious ways in which racial and sexual oppression are affected by material conditions and class) may help to account for a certain defensiveness that has recently crept into postmodernist discourse. Some of the most fashionable figures in today’s academic pantheon – Jacques Derrida, Gayatri Spivak, Richard Rorty, Judith Butler, for instance – are showing signs of chafing against the theoretical and political constraints imposed by anti-universalist, anti-class, and anti-Marxist dogmas.
We might think that this is the moment for new and creative initiatives in Marxist theory and practice. Why then return to the debates surrounding a dead and more or less forgotten post-Marxism? One answer is that it may be helpful to trace the present impasse in post-left political thinking back to that critical turning point. At least then the debate was still about class politics, before the turn that took class out of our line of vision altogether, along with socialism and even the critique of capitalism. If there is some urgency now to renew our resources for thinking about class and class politics, maybe that turning point is not such a bad place to start.
Ellen Meiksins Wood
Spring 1998
In the 1840s, Marx and Engels directed some of their most eloquent polemics against an intellectual current described as ‘true’ socialism. The ‘true’ socialists, they wrote in The German Ideology, ‘innocently take on trust the illusion … that it is a question of the “most reasonable” social order and not the needs of a particular class and a particular time…. They have abandoned the real historical basis and returned to that of ideology…. True socialism, which is no longer concerned with real human beings but with “Man”, has lost all revolutionary enthusiasm and proclaims instead the universal love of mankind.’1 ‘It is difficult to see why these true socialists mention society at all if they believe with the philosophers that all real cleavages are caused by conceptual cleavages. On the basis of the philosophical belief in the power of concepts to make or destroy the world, they can likewise imagine that some individual “abolished the cleavage of life” by “abolishing” concepts in some way or other.’2 In the Communist Manifesto, ‘true’ socialism is summed up thus: since socialism had ‘ceased to express the struggle of one class against another, … [the ‘true’ socialist] felt conscious of … representing, not true requirements, but the requirements of Truth; not the interests of the proletariat, but the interests of Human Nature, of Man in general, who belongs to no class, has no reality, who exists only in the misty realm of philosophical fantasy.’
In the 1980s, we seem to be witnessing a revival of ‘true’ socialism. The new ‘true’ socialism (NTS), which prides itself on a rejection of Marxist ‘economism’ and ‘class-reductionism’, has virtually excised class and class struggle from the socialist project. The most distinctive feature of this current is the autonomization of ideology and politics from any social basis, and more specifically, from any class foundation. Against the assumption, which it attributes to Marxism, that economic conditions automatically give rise to political forces and that the