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Nov 29, 2015

What is Orthodox Marxism?

Source: https://www.marxists.org/archive/lukacs/works/history/orthodox.htm

What is Orthodox Marxism?
George Lukacs

The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point, however, is to change it. Marx: Theses on Feuerbach.

THIS question, simple as it is, has been the focus of much discussion in both proletarian and bourgeois circles. But among intellectuals it has gradually become fashionable to greet any profession of faith in Marxism with ironical disdain. Great disunity has prevailed even in the ‘socialist’ camp as to what constitutes the essence of Marxism, and which theses it is ‘permissible’ to criticise and even reject without forfeiting the right to the title of ‘Marxist’. In consequence it came to be thought increasingly ‘unscientific’ to make scholastic exegeses of old texts with a quasi-Biblical status, instead of fostering an ‘impartial’ study of the ‘facts’. These texts, it was argued, had long been ‘superseded’ by modern criticism and they should no longer be regarded as the sole fount of truth.

If the question were really to be formulated in terms of such a crude antithesis it would deserve at best a pitying smile. But in fact it is not (and never has been) quite so straightforward. Let us assume for the sake of argument that recent research had disproved once and for all every one of Marx’s individual theses. Even if this were to be proved, every serious ‘orthodox’ Marxist would still be able to accept all such modern findings without reservation and hence dismiss all of Marx’s theses in toto – without having to renounce his orthodoxy for a single moment. Orthodox Marxism, therefore, does not imply the uncritical acceptance of the results of Marx’s investigations. It is not the ‘belief’ in this or that thesis, nor the exegesis of a ‘sacred’ book. On the contrary, orthodoxy refers exclusively to method. It is the scientific conviction that dialectical materialism is the road to truth and that its methods can be developed, expanded and deepened only along the lines laid down by its founders. It is the conviction, moreover, that all attempts to surpass or ‘improve’ it have led and must lead to over-simplification, triviality and eclecticism.

1

Materialist dialectic is a revolutionary dialectic. This definition is so important and altogether so crucial for an understanding of its nature that if the problem is to be approached in the right way this must be fully grasped before we venture upon a discussion of the dialectical method itself. The issue turns on the question of theory and practice. And this not merely in the sense given it by Marx when he says in his first critique of Hegel that “theory becomes a material force when it grips the masses.” [1] Even more to the point is the need to discover those features and definitions both of the theory and the ways of gripping the masses which convert the theory, the dialectical method, into a vehicle of revolution. We must extract the practical essence of the theory from the method and its relation to its object. If this is not done that ‘gripping the masses’ could well turn out to be a will o’ the wisp. It might turn out that the masses were in the grip of quite different forces, that they were in pursuit of quite different ends. In that event, there would be no necessary connection between the theory and their activity, it would be a form that enables the masses to become conscious of their socially necessary or fortuitous actions, without ensuring a genuine and necessary bond between consciousness and action.

In the same essay [2] Marx clearly defined the conditions in which a relation between theory and practice becomes possible. “It is not enough that thought should seek to realise itself; reality must also strive towards thought.” Or, as he expresses it in an earlier work: [3] “It will then be realised that the world has long since possessed something in the form of a dream which it need only take possession of consciously, in order to possess it in reality.” Only when consciousness stands in such a relation to reality can theory and practice be united. But for this to happen the emergence of consciousness must become the decisive step which the historical process must take towards its proper end (an end constituted by the wills of men, but neither dependent on human whim, nor the product of human invention). The historical function of theory is to make this step a practical possibility. Only when a historical situation has arisen in which a class must understand society if it is to assert itself; only when the fact that a class understands itself means that it understands society as a whole and when, in consequence, the class becomes both the subject and the object of knowledge; in short, only when these conditions are all satisfied will the unity of theory and practice, the precondition of the revolutionary function of the theory, become possible.

Such a situation has in fact arisen with the entry of the proletariat into history. “When the proletariat proclaims the dissolution of the existing social order,” Marx declares, “it does no more than disclose the secret of its own existence, for it is the effective dissolution of that order.” [4] The links between the theory that affirms this and the revolution are not just arbitrary, nor are they particularly tortuous or open to misunderstanding. On the contrary, the theory is essentially the intellectual expression of the revolutionary process itself. In it every stage of the process becomes fixed so that it may be generalised, communicated, utilised and developed. Because the theory does nothing but arrest and make conscious each necessary step, it becomes at the same time the necessary premise of the following one.

To be clear about the function of theory is also to understand its own basis, i.e. dialectical method. This point is absolutely crucial, and because it has been overlooked much confusion has been introduced into discussions of dialectics. Engels’ arguments in the Anti-Dühring decisively influenced the later life of the theory. However we regard them, whether we grant them classical status or whether we criticise them, deem them to be incomplete or even flawed, we must still agree that this aspect is nowhere treated in them. That is to say, he contrasts the ways in which concepts are formed in dialectics as opposed to ‘metaphysics’; he stresses the fact that in dialectics the definite contours of concepts (and the objects they represent) are dissolved. Dialectics, he argues, is a continuous process of transition from one definition into the other. In consequence a one-sided and rigid causality must be replaced by interaction. But he does not even mention the most vital interaction, namely the dialectical relation between subject and object in the historical process, let alone give it the prominence it deserves. Yet without this factor dialectics ceases to be revolutionary, despite attempts (illusory in the last analysis) to retain ‘fluid’ concepts. For it implies a failure to recognise that in all metaphysics the object remains untouched and unaltered so that thought remains contemplative and fails to become practical; while for the dialectical method the central problem is to change reality.

If this central function of the theory is disregarded, the virtues of forming ‘fluid’ concepts become altogether problematic: a purely ‘scientific’ matter. The theory might then be accepted or rejected in accordance with the prevailing state of science without any modification at all to one’s basic attitudes, to the question of whether or not reality can be changed. Indeed, as the so-called Machists among Marx’s supporters have demonstrated it even reinforces the view that reality with its ‘obedience to laws , in the sense used by bourgeois, contemplative materialism and the classical economics with which it is so closely bound up, is impenetrable, fatalistic and immutable. That Machism can also give birth to an equally bourgeois voluntarism does not contradict this. Fatalism and voluntarism are only mutually contradictory to an undialectical and unhistorical mind. In the dialectical view of history they prove to be necessarily complementary opposites, intellectual reflexes clearly expressing the antagonisms of capitalist society and the intractability of its problems when conceived in its own terms.

For this reason all attempts to deepen the dialectical method with the aid of ‘criticism’ inevitably lead to a more superficial view. For ‘criticism’ always starts with just this separation between method and reality, between thought and being. And it is just this separation that it holds to be an improvement deserving of every praise for its introduction of true scientific rigour into the crude, uncritical materialism of the Marxian method. Of course, no one denies the right of ‘criticism’ to do this. But if it does so we must insist that it will be moving counter to the essential spirit of dialectics.

The statements of Marx and Engels on this point could hardly be more explicit. “Dialectics thereby reduced itself to the science of the general laws of motion – both in the external world and in the thought of man – two sets of laws which are identical in substance” (Engels). [5] Marx formulated it even more precisely. “In the study of economic categories, as in the case of every historical and social science, it must be borne in mind that ... the categories are therefore but forms of being, conditions of existence ....” [6] If this meaning of dialectical method is obscured, dialectics must inevitably begin to look like a superfluous additive, a mere ornament of Marxist ‘sociology’ or ‘economics’. Even worse, it will appear as an obstacle to the ‘sober’, ‘impartial’ study of the ‘facts’, as an empty construct in whose name Marxism does violence to the facts.

This objection to dialectical method has been voiced most clearly and cogently by Bernstein, thanks in part to a ‘freedom from bias’ unclouded by any philosophical knowledge. However, the very real political and economic conclusions he deduces from this desire to liberate method from the ‘dialectical snares’ of Hegelianism, show clearly where this course leads. They show that it is precisely the dialectic that must be removed if one wishes to found a thorough-going opportunistic theory, a theory of ‘evolution’ without revolution and of ‘natural development’ into Socialism without any conflict.

2

We are now faced with the question of the methodological implications of these so-called facts that are idolised throughout the whole of Revisionist literature. To what extent may we look to them to provide guide-lines for the actions of the revolutionary proletariat? It goes without saying that all knowledge starts from the facts. The only question is: which of the data of life are relevant to knowledge and in the context of which method?

The blinkered empiricist will of course deny that facts can only become facts within the framework of a system – which will vary with the knowledge desired. He believes that every piece of data from economic life, every statistic, every raw event already constitutes an important fact. In so doing he forgets that however simple an enumeration of ‘facts’ may be, however lacking in commentary, it already implies an ‘interpretation’. Already at this stage the facts have been comprehended by a theory, a method; they have been wrenched from their living context and fitted into a theory.

More sophisticated opportunists would readily grant this despite their profound and instinctive dislike of all theory. They seek refuge in the methods of natural science, in the way in which science distills ‘pure’ facts and places them in the relevant contexts by means of observation, abstraction and experiment. They then oppose this ideal model of knowledge to the forced constructions of the dialectical method.

If such methods seem plausible at first this is because capitalism tends to produce a social structure that in great measure encourages such views. But for that very reason we need the dialectical method to puncture the social illusion so produced and help us to glimpse the reality underlying it. The ‘pure’ facts of the natural sciences arise when a phenomenon of the real world is placed (in thought or in reality) into an environment where its laws can be inspected without outside interference. This process is reinforced by reducing the phenomena to their purely quantitative essence. to their expression in numbers and numerical relations. Opportunists always fail to recognise that it is in the nature of capitalism to process phenomena in this way. Marx gives an incisive account [7] of such a ‘process of abstraction’ in the case of labour, but he does not omit to point out with equal vigour that he is dealing with a historical peculiarity of capitalist society.

“Thus the most general abstractions commonly appear where there is the highest concrete development, where one feature appears to be shared by many, and to be common to all. Then it cannot be thought of any longer in one particular form.”

But this tendency in capitalism goes even further. The fetishistic character of economic forms, the reification of all human relations, the constant expansion and extension of the division of labour which subjects the process of production to an abstract, rational analysis, without regard to the human potentialities and abilities of the immediate producers, all these things transform the phenomena of society and with them the way in which they are perceived. In this way arise the ‘isolated’ facts, ‘isolated’ complexes of facts, separate, specialist disciplines (economics, law, etc.) whose very appearance seems to have done much to pave the way for such scientific methods. It thus appears extraordinarily ‘scientific’ to think out the tendencies implicit in the facts themselves and to promote this activity to the status of science.

By contrast, in the teeth of all these isolated and isolating facts and partial systems, dialectics insists on the concrete unity of the whole. Yet although it exposes these appearances for the illusions they are – albeit illusions necessarily engendered by capitalism – in this ‘scientific’ atmosphere it still gives the impression of being an arbitrary construction.

The unscientific nature of this seemingly so scientific method consists, then, in its failure to see and take account of the historical character of the facts on which it is based. This is the source of more than one error (constantly overlooked by the practitioners of the method) to which Engels has explicitly drawn attention. [8] The nature of this source of error is that statistics and the ‘exact’ economic theory based upon them always lag behind actual developments.

“For this reason, it is only too often necessary in current history, to treat this, the most decisive factor, as constant, and the economic situation existing at the beginning of the period concerned as given and unalterable for the whole period, or else to take notice of only those changes in the situation as arise out of the patently manifest events themselves and are therefore, likewise, patently manifest.”

Thus we perceive that there is something highly problematic in the fact that capitalist society is predisposed to harmonise with scientific method, to constitute indeed the social premises of its exactness. If the internal structure of the ‘facts’ of their interconnections is essentially historical, if, that is to say, they are caught up in a process of continuous transformation, then we may indeed question when the greater scientific inaccuracy occurs. It is when I conceive of the ‘facts’ as existing in a form and as subject to laws concerning which I have a methodological certainty (or at least probability) that they no longer apply to these facts? Or is it when I consciously take this situation into account, cast a critical eye at the ‘exactitude’ attainable by such a method and concentrate instead on those points where this historical aspect, this decisive fact of change really manifests itself ?

The historical character of the ‘facts’ which science seems to have grasped with such ‘purity’ makes itself felt in an even more devastating manner. As the products of historical evolution they are involved in continuous change. But in addition they are also precisely in their objective structure the products of a definite historical epoch, namely capitalism. Thus when ‘science’ maintains that the manner in which data immediately present themselves is an adequate foundation of scientific conceptualisation and that the actual form of these data is the appropriate starting-point for the formation of scientific concepts, it thereby takes its stand simply and dogmatically on the basis of capitalist society. It uncritically accepts the nature of the object as it is given and the laws of that society as the unalterable foundation of ‘science’.

In order to progress from these ‘facts’ to facts in the true meaning of the word it is necessary to perceive their historical conditioning as such and to abandon the point of view that would see them as immediately given: they must themselves be subjected to a historical and dialectical examination. For as Marx says: [9]

“The finished pattern of economic relations as seen on the surface in their real existence and consequently in the ideas with which the agents and bearers of these relations seek to understand them, is very different from, and indeed quite the reverse of and antagonistic to their inner. essential but concealed core and the concepts corresponding to it.”

If the facts are to be understood, this distinction between their real existence and their inner core must be grasped clearly and precisely. This distinction is the first premise of a truly scientific study which in Marx’s words, “would be superfluous if the outward appearance of things coincided with their essence.” [10] Thus we must detach the phenomena from the form in which they are immediately given and discover the intervening links which connect them to their core, their essence. In so doing, we shall arrive at an understanding of their apparent form and see it as the form in which the inner core necessarily appears. It is necessary because of the historical character of the facts, because they have grown in the soil of capitalist society. This twofold character, the simultaneous recognition and transcendence of immediate appearances is precisely the dialectical nexus.

In this respect, superficial readers imprisoned in the modes of thought created by capitalism, experienced the gravest difficulties in comprehending the structure of thought in Capital. For on the one hand, Marx’s account pushes the capitalist nature of all economic forms to their furthest limits, he creates an intellectual milieu where they can exist in their purest form by positing a society ‘corresponding to the theory’, i.e. capitalist through and through, consisting of none but capitalists and proletarians. But conversely, no sooner does this strategy produce results, no sooner does this world of phenomena seem to be on the point of crystallising out into theory than it dissolves into a mere illusion, a distorted situation appears as in a distorting mirror which is, however, “only the conscious expression of an. imaginary movement.”

Only in this context which sees the isolated facts of social life as aspects of the historical process and integrates them in a totality, can knowledge of the facts hope to become knowledge of reality. This knowledge starts from the simple (and to the capitalist world), pure, immediate, natural determinants described above. It progresses from them to the knowledge of the concrete totality, i.e. to the conceptual reproduction of reality. This concrete totality is by no means an unmediated datum for thought.

“The concrete is concrete,” Marx says,[11] “because it is a synthesis of many particular determinants, i.e. a unity of diverse elements.”

Idealism succumbs here to the delusion of confusing the intellectual reproduction of reality with the actual structure of reality itself. For “in thought, reality appears as the process of synthesis, not as starting-point, but as outcome, although it is the real starting-point and hence the starting-point for perception and ideas.”

Conversely, the vulgar materialists, even in the modern guise donned by Bernstein and others, do not go beyond the reproduction of the immediate, simple determinants of social life. They imagine that they are being quite extraordinarily ‘exact’ when they simply take over these determinants without either analysing them further or welding them into a concrete totality. They take the facts in abstract isolation, explaining them only in terms of abstract laws unrelated to the concrete totality. As Marx observes:

“Crudeness and conceptual nullity consist in the tendency to forge arbitrary unmediated connections between things that belong together in an organic union.” [12]

The crudeness and conceptual nullity of such thought lies primarily in the fact that it obscures the historical, transitory nature of capitalist society. Its determinants take on the appearance of timeless, eternal categories valid for all social formations. This could be seen at its crassest in the vulgar bourgeois economists, but the vulgar Marxists soon followed in their footsteps. The dialectical method was overthrown and with it the methodological supremacy of the totality over the individual aspects; the parts were prevented from finding their definition within the whole and, instead, the whole was dismissed as unscientific or else it degenerated into the mere ‘idea’ or ‘sum’ of the parts. With the totality out of the way, the fetishistic relations of the isolated parts appeared as a timeless law valid for every human society.

Marx’s dictum: “The relations of production of every society form a whole” [13] is the methodological point of departure and the key to the historical understanding of social relations. All the isolated partial categories can be thought of and treated – in isolation – as something that is always present in every society. (If it cannot be found in a given society this is put down to ‘chance’ as the exception that proves the rule.) But the changes to which these individual aspects are subject give no clear and unambiguous picture of the real differences in the various stages of the evolution of society. These can really only be discerned in the context of the total historical process of their relation to society as a whole.

3

This dialectical conception of totality seems to have put a great distance between itself and reality, it appears to construct reality very ‘unscientifically’. But it is the only method capable of understanding and reproducing reality. Concrete totality is, therefore, the category that governs reality. [14] The rightness of this view only emerges with complete clarity when we direct our attention to the real, material substratum of our method, viz. capitalist society with its internal antagonism between the forces and the relations of production. The methodology of the natural sciences which forms the methodological ideal of every fetishistic science and every kind of Revisionism rejects the idea of contradiction and antagonism in its subject matter. If, despite this, contradictions do spring up between particular theories, this only proves that our knowledge is as yet imperfect. Contradictions between theories show that these theories have reached their natural limits; they must therefore be transformed and subsumed under even wider theories in which the contradictions finally disappear.

But we maintain that in the case of social reality these contradictions are not a sign of the imperfect understanding of society; on the contrary, they belong to the nature of reality itself and to the nature of capitalism. When the totality is known they will not be transcended and cease to be contradictions. Quite the reverse. they will be seen to be necessary contradictions arising out of the antagonisms of this system of production. When theory (as the knowledge of the whole) opens up the way to resolving these contradictions it does so by revealing the real tendencies of social evolution. For these are destined to effect a real resolution of the contradictions that have emerged in the course of history.

From this angle we see that the conflict between the dialectical method and that of ‘criticism’ (or vulgar materialism, Machism, etc.) is a social problem. When the ideal of scientific knowledge is applied to nature it simply furthers the progress of science. But when it is applied to society it turns out to be an ideological weapon of the bourgeoisie. For the latter it is a matter of life and death to understand its own system of production in terms of eternally valid categories: it must think of capitalism as being predestined to eternal survival by the eternal laws of nature and reason. Conversely, contradictions that cannot be ignored must be shown to be purely surface phenomena, unrelated to this mode of production.

The method of classical economics was a product of this ideological need. But also its limitations as a science are a consequence of the structure of capitalist reality and the antagonistic character of capitalist production. When, for example, a thinker of Ricardo’s stature can deny the “necessity of expanding the market along with the expansion of production and the growth of capital”, he does so (unconsciously of course), to avoid the necessity of admitting that crises are inevitable. For crises are the most striking illustration of the antagonisms in capitalist production and it is evident that “the bourgeois mode of production implies a limitation to the free development of the forces of production.” [15] What was good faith in Ricardo became a consciously misleading apologia of bourgeois society in the writings of the vulgar economists. The vulgar Marxists arrived at the same results by seeking either the thorough-going elimination of dialectics from proletarian science, or at best its ‘critical’ refinement.

To give a grotesque illustration, Max Adler wished to make a critical distinction between dialectics as method, as the movement of thought on the one hand and the dialectics of being, as metaphysics on the other. His ‘criticism’ culminates in the sharp separation of dialectics from both and he describes it as a “piece of positive science” which “is. what is chiefly meant by talk of real dialectics in Marxism.” This dialectic might more aptly be called ‘antagonism’, for it simply “asserts that an opposition exists between the self-interest of an individual and the social forms in which he is confined.” [16] By this stroke the objective economic antagonism as expressed in the class struggle evaporates, leaving only a conflict between the individual and society. This means that neither the emergence of internal problems, nor the collapse of capitalist society, can be seen to be necessary. The end-product, whether he likes it or not, is a Kantian philosophy of history’ Moreover, the structure of bourgeois society is established as the universal form of society in general. For the central problem Max Adler tackles, of the real “dialectics or, better, antagonism” is nothing but one of the typical ideological forms of the capitalist social order. But whether capitalism is rendered immortal on economic or on ideological grounds, whether with naive nonchalance, or with critical refinement is of little importance.

Thus with the rejection or blurring of the dialectical method history becomes unknowable. This does not imply that a more or less exact account of particular people or epochs cannot be given without the aid of dialectics. But it does put paid to attempts to understand history as a unified process. (This can be seen in the sociologically abstract, historical constructs of the type of Spencer and Comte whose inner contradictions have been convincingly exposed by modern bourgeois historians, most incisively by Rickert. But it also shows itself in the demand for a ‘philosophy of history’ which then turns out to have a quite inscrutable relationship to historical reality.) The opposition between the description of an aspect of history and the description of history as a unified process is not just a problem of scope, as in the distinction between particular and universal history. It is rather a conflict of method, of approach. Whatever the epoch or special topic of study, the question of a unified approach to the process of history is inescapable. It is here that the crucial importance of the dialectical view of totality reveals itself. For it is perfectly possible for someone to describe the essentials of an historical event and yet be in the dark about the real nature of that event and of its function in the historical totality, i.e. without understanding it as part of a unified historical process.

A typical example of this can be seen in Sismondi’s treatment of the question of crisis. [17] He understood the immanent tendencies in the processes of production and distribution. But ultimately he failed because, for all his incisive criticism of capitalism, he remained imprisoned in capitalist notions of the objective and so necessarily thought of production and distribution as two independent processes, “not realising that the relations of distribution are only the relations of production sub alia species.” He thus succumbs to the same fate that overtook Proudhon’s false dialectics; “he converts the various limbs of society into so many independent societies.” [18]

We repeat: the category of totality does not reduce its various elements to an undifferentiated uniformity, to identity. The apparent independence and autonomy which they possess in the capitalist system of production is an illusion only in so far as they are involved in a dynamic dialectical relationship with one another and can be thought of as the dynamic dialectical aspects of an equally dynamic and dialectical whole. “The result we arrive at,” says Marx, “is not that production, distribution, exchange and consumption are identical, but that they are all members of one totality, different aspects of a unit. . . . Thus a definite form of production determines definite forms of consumption, distribution and exchange as well as definite relations between these different elements.... A mutual interaction takes place between these various elements. This is the case with every organic body.” [19] But even the category of interaction requires inspection. If by interaction we mean just the reciprocal causal impact of two otherwise unchangeable objects on each other, we shall not have come an inch nearer to an understanding of society. This is the case with the vulgar materialists with their one-way causal sequences (or the Machists with their functional relations). After all, there is e.g. an interaction when a stationary billiard ball is struck by a moving one: the first one moves, the second one is deflected from its original path. The interaction we have in mind must be more than the interaction of otherwise unchanging objects. It must go further in its relation to the whole: for this relation determines the objective form of every object of cognition. Every substantial change that is of concern to knowledge manifests itself as a change in relation to the whole and through this as a change in the form of objectivity itself. [20] Marx has formulated this idea in countless places. I shall cite only one of the best-known passages: [21]

“A negro is a negro. He only becomes a slave in certain circumstances. A cotton-spinning jenny is a machine for spinning cotton. Only in certain circumstances does it become capital. Torn from those circumstances it is no more capital than gold is money or sugar the price of sugar.”

Thus the objective forms of all social phenomena change constantly in the course of their ceaseless dialectical interactions with each other. The intelligibility of objects develops in proportion as we grasp their function in the totality to which they belong. This is why only the dialectical conception of totality can enable us to understand reality as a social process. For only this conception dissolves the fetishistic forms necessarily produced by the capitalist mode of production and enables us to see them as mere illusions which are not less illusory for being seen to be necessary. These unmediated concepts, these ‘laws’ sprout just as inevitably from the soil of capitalism and veil the real relations between objects.

They can all be seen as ideas necessarily held by the agents of the capitalist system of production. They are, therefore, objects of knowledge, but the object which is known through them is not the capitalist system of production itself, but the ideology of its ruling class.

Only when this veil is torn aside does historical knowledge become possible. For the function of these unmediated concepts that have been derived from the fetishistic forms of objectivity is to make the phenomena of capitalist society appear as supra-historical essences. The knowledge of the real, objective nature of a phenomenon, the knowledge of its historical character and the knowledge of its actual function in the totality of society form, therefore, a single, undivided act of cognition. This unity is shattered by the pseudo-scientific method. Thus only through the dialectical method could the distinction between constant and variable capital, crucial to economics, be understood. Classical economics was unable to go beyond the distinction between fixed and circulating capital. This was not accidental. For “variable capital is only a particular historical manifestation of the fund for providing the necessaries of life, or the labour-fund which the labourer requires for the maintenance of himself and his family, and which whatever be the system of social production, he must himself produce and reproduce. If the labour-fund constantly flows to him in the form of money that pays for his labour, it is because the product he has created moves constantly away from him in the form of capital.... The transaction is veiled by the fact that the product appears as a commodity and the commodity as money.” [22]

The fetishistic illusions enveloping all phenomena in capitalist society succeed in concealing reality, but more is concealed than the historical, i.e. transitory, ephemeral nature of phenomena. This concealment is made possible by the fact that in capitalist society man’s environment, and especially the categories of economics, appear to him immediately and necessarily in forms of objectivity which conceal the fact that they are the categories of the relations of men with each other. Instead they appear as things and the relations of things with each other. Therefore, when the dialectical method destroys the fiction of the immortality of the categories it also destroys their reified character and clears the way to a knowledge of reality. According to Engels in his discussion of Marx’s Critique of Political Economy, “economics does not treat of things, but of the relations between persons and, in the last analysis, between classes; however, these relations are always bound to things and appear as things.” [23]

It is by virtue of this insight that the dialectical method and its concept of totality can be seen to provide real knowledge of what goes on in society. It might appear as if the dialectic relations between parts and whole were no more than a construct of thought as remote from the true categories of social reality as the unmediated formulae of bourgeois economics. If so, the superiority of dialectics would be purely methodological. The real difference, however, is deeper and more fundamental.

At every stage of social evolution each economic category reveals a definite relation between men. This relation becomes conscious and is conceptualised. Because of this the inner logic of the movement of human society can be understood at once as the product of men themselves and of forces that arise from their relations with each other and which have escaped their control. Thus the economic categories become dynamic and dialectical in a double sense. As ‘pure’ economic categories they are involved in constant interaction with each other, and that enables us to understand any given historical cross-section through the evolution of society. But since they have arisen out of human relations and since they function in the process of the transformation of human relations, the actual process of social evolution becomes visible in their reciprocal relationship with the reality underlying their activity. That is to say, the production and reproduction of a particular economic totality, which science hopes to understand, is necessarily transformed into the process of production and reproduction of a particular social totality; in the course of this transformation, ‘pure’ economics are naturally transcended, though this does not mean that we must appeal to any transcendental forces. Marx often insisted upon this aspect of dialectics. For instance: [24]

“Capitalist production, therefore, under its aspect of a continuous connected process or as a process of reproduction produces not only commodities, not only surplus value, but it also produces and reproduces the capitalist relation itself, on the one hand the capitalist and on the other, the labourer.”

4

To posit oneself, to produce and reproduce oneself – that is reality. Hegel clearly perceived this and expressed it in a way closely similar to that of Marx, albeit cloaked in abstraction and misunderstanding itself and thus opening the way to further misunderstanding. “What is actual is necessary in itself,” he says in the Philosophy of Right. “Necessity consists in this that the whole is sundered into the different concepts and that this divided whole yields a fixed and permanent determinacy. However, this is not a fossilised determinacy but one which permanently recreates itself in its dissolution.” [25] The deep affinities between historical materialism and Hegel’s philosophy are clearly manifested here, for both conceive of theory as the self-knowledge of reality. Nevertheless, we must briefly point to the crucial difference between them. This is likewise located in the problem of reality and of the unity of the historical process.

Marx reproached Hegel (and, in even stronger terms, Hegel’s successors who had reverted to Kant and Fichte) with his failure to overcome the duality of thought and being, of theory and practice, of subject and object. He maintained that Hegel’s dialectic, which purported to be an inner, real dialectic of the historical process, was a mere illusion: in the crucial point he failed to go beyond Kant. His knowledge is no more than knowledge about an essentially alien material. It was not the case that this material, human society, came to now itself. As he remarks in the decisive sentences of his critique, [26]

“Already with Hegel, the absolute spirit of history has its material in the masses, but only finds adequate expression in philosophy. But the philosopher appears merely as the instrument by which absolute spirit, which makes history, arrives at self-consciousness after the historical movement has been completed. The philosopher’s role in history is thus limited to this subsequent consciousness, for the real movement is executed unconsciously by the absolute spirit. Thus the philosopher arrives post festum.”

Hegel, then, permits

“absolute spirit qua absolute spirit to make history only in appearance. ... For, as absolute spirit does not appear in the mind of the philosopher in the shape of the creative world-spirit until after the event, it follows that it makes history only in the consciousness, the opinions and the ideas of the philosophers, only in the speculative imagination.”

Hegel’s conceptual mythology has been definitively eliminated by the critical activity of the young Marx.

It is, however, not accidental that Marx achieved ‘self-understanding’ in the course of opposing a reactionary Hegelian movement reverting back to Kant. This movement exploited Hegel’s obscurities and inner uncertainties in order to eradicate the revolutionary elements from his method. It strove to harmonise the reactionary content, the reactionary conceptual mythology, the vestiges of the contemplative dualism of thought and existence with the consistently reactionary philosophy which prevailed in the Germany of the day.

By adopting the progressive part of the Hegelian method, namely the dialectic, Marx not only cut himself off from Hegel’s successors; he also split Hegel’s philosophy in two. He took the historical tendency in Hegel to its logical extreme: he radically transformed all the phenomena both of society and of socialised man into historical problems: he concretely revealed the real substratum of historical evolution and developed a seminal method in the process. He measured Hegel’s philosophy by the yardstick he had himself discovered and systematically elaborated, and he found it wanting. The mythologising remnants of the ‘eternal values’ which Marx eliminated from the dialectic belong basically on the same level as the philosophy of reflection which Hegel had fought his whole life long with such energy and bitterness and against which he had pitted his entire philosophical method, with its ideas of process and concrete totality, dialectics and history. In this sense Marx’s critique of Hegel is the direct continuation and extension of the criticism that Hegel himself levelled at Kant and Fichte. [27] So it came about that Marx’s dialectical method continued what Hegel had striven for but had failed to achieve in a concrete form. And, on the other hand, the corpse of the written system remained for the scavenging philologists and system-makers to feast upon.

It is at reality itself that Hegel and Marx part company. Hegel was unable to penetrate to the real driving forces of history. Partly because these forces were not yet fully visible when he created his system. In consequence he was forced to regard the peoples and their consciousness as the true bearers of historical evolution. (But he did not discern their real nature because of the .heterogeneous composition of that consciousness. So he mythologised it into the ‘spirit of the people’.) But in part he remained imprisoned in the Platonic and Kantian outlook, in the duality of thought and being, of form and matter, notwithstanding his very energetic efforts to break out. Even though he was the first to discover the meaning of concrete totality, and even though his thought was constantly bent upon overcoming every kind of abstraction, matter still remained tainted for him with the ’stain of the specific’ (and here he was very much the Platonist). These contradictory and conflicting tendencies could not be clarified within his system. They are often juxtaposed, unmediated, contradictory and unreconciled. In consequence, the ultimate (apparent) synthesis had perforce to turn to the past rather than the future. [28] It is no wonder that from very early on bourgeois science chose to dwell on these aspects of Hegel. As a result the revolutionary core of his thought became almost totally obscure even for Marxists.

A conceptual mythology always points to the failure to understand a fundamental condition of human existence, one whose effects cannot be warded off. This failure to penetrate the object is expressed intellectually in terms of transcendental forces which construct and shape reality, the relations between objects, our relations with them and their transformations in the course of history in a mythological fashion. By recognising that “the production and reproduction of real life (is) in the last resort the decisive factor in history”, [29] Marx and Engels gained a vantage-point from which they could settle accounts with all mythologies. Hegel’s absolute spirit was the last of these grandiose mythological schemes. It already contained the totality and its movement, even though it was unaware of its real character. Thus in historical materialism reason “which has always existed though not always in a rational form”, [30] achieved that ‘rational’ form by discovering its real substratum, the basis from which human life will really be able to become conscious of itself. This completed the programme of Hegel’s philosophy of history, even though at the cost of the destruction of his system. In contrast to nature in which, as Hegel emphasises, [31] “change goes in a circle, repeating the same thing”, change in history takes place “in the concept as well as on the surface. It is the concept itself which is corrected.”

5

The premise of dialectical materialism is, we recall: “It is not men’s consciousness that determines their existence, but on the contrary, their social existence that determines their consciousness.” Only in the context sketched above can this premise point beyond mere theory and become a question of praxis. Only when the core of existence stands revealed as a social process can existence be seen as the product, albeit the hitherto unconscious product, of human activity. This activity will be seen in its turn as the element crucial for the transformation of existence. Man finds himself confronted by purely natural relations or social forms mystified into natural relations. They appear to be fixed, complete and immutable entities which can be manipulated and even comprehended, but never overthrown. But also this situation creates the possibility of praxis in the individual consciousness. Praxis becomes the form of action appropriate to the isolated individual, it becomes his ethics. Feuerbach’s attempt to supersede Hegel foundered on this reef: like the German idealists, and to a much greater extent than Hegel, he stopped short at the isolated individual of ‘civil society’.

Marx urged us to understand ‘the sensuous world’, the object, reality, as human sensuous activity. [32] This means that man must become conscious of himself as a social being, as simultaneously the subject and object of the socio-historical process. In feudal society man could not yet see himself as a social being because his social relations were still mainly natural. Society was far too unorganised and had far too little control over the totality of relations between men for it to appear to consciousness as the reality of man. (The question of the structure and unity of feudal society cannot be considered in any detail here.) Bourgeois society carried out the process of socialising society. Capitalism destroyed both the spatio-temporal barriers between different lands and territories and also the legal partitions between the different ‘estates’ (Stände). In its universe there is a formal equality for all men; the economic relations that directly determined the metabolic exchange between men and nature progressively disappear. Man becomes, in the true sense of the word, a social being. Society. becomes the reality for man.

Thus the recognition that society is reality becomes possible only under capitalism, in bourgeois society. But the class which carried out this revolution did so without consciousness of its function; the social forces it unleashed, the very forces that carried it to supremacy seemed to be opposed to it like a second nature, but a more soulless, impenetrable nature than feudalism ever was. [33] It was necessary for the proletariat to be born for social reality to become fully conscious. The reason for this is that the discovery of the class-outlook of the proletariat provided a vantage point from which to survey the whole of society. With the emergence of historical materialism there arose the theory of the “conditions for the liberation of the proletariat” and the doctrine of reality understood as the total process of social evolution. This was only possible because for the proletariat the total knowledge of its class-situation was a vital necessity, a matter of life and death; because its class situation becomes comprehensible only if the whole of society can be understood; and because this understanding is the inescapable precondition of its actions. Thus the unity of theory and practice is only the reverse side of the social and historical position of the proletariat. From its own point of view self-knowledge coincides with knowledge of the whole so that the proletariat is at one and the same time the subject and object of its own knowledge.

The mission of raising humanity to a higher level is based, as Hegel rightly observed [34] (although he was still concerned with nations), on the fact that these “stages of evolution exist as immediate, natural, principles” and it devolves upon every nation (i.e. class) “endowed with such a natural principle to put it into practice.” Marx concretises this idea with great clarity by applying it to social development: [35]

“If socialist writers attribute this world-historical role to the proletariat it is not because they believe ... that the proletariat are gods. Far from it. The proletariat can and must liberate itself because when the proletariat is fully developed, its humanity and even the appearance of its humanity has become totally abstract; because in the conditions of its life all the conditions of life of contemporary society find their most inhuman consummation; because in the proletariat man is lost to himself but at the same time he has acquired a theoretical consciousness of this loss, and is driven by the absolutely imperious dictates of his misery – the practical expression of this necessity – which can no longer be ignored or whitewashed, to rebel against this inhumanity. However, the proletariat cannot liberate itself without destroying the conditions of its own life. But it cannot do that without destroying all the inhuman conditions of life in contemporary society which exist in the proletariat in a concentrated form.”

Thus the essence of the method of historical materialism is inseparable from the ‘practical and critical’ activity of the proletariat: both are aspects of the same process of social evolution. So, too, the knowledge of reality provided by the dialectical method is likewise inseparable from the class standpoint of the proletariat. The question raised by the Austrian Marxists of the methodological separation of the ‘pure’ science of Marxism from socialism is a pseudo-problem. [36] For, the Marxist method, the dialectical materialist knowledge of reality, can arise only from the point of view of a class, from the point of view of the struggle of the proletariat. To abandon this point of view is to move away from historical materialism, just as to adopt it leads directly into the thick of the struggle of the proletariat.

Historical materialism grows out of the “immediate, natural” life-principle of the proletariat; it means the acquisition of total knowledge of reality from this one point of view. But it does not follow from this that this knowledge or this methodological attitude is the inherent or natural possession of the proletariat as a class (let alone of proletarian individuals). On the contrary. It is true that the proletariat is the conscious subject of total social reality. But the conscious subject is not defined here as in Kant, where ‘subject’ is defined as that which can never be an object. The ‘subject’ here is not a detached spectator of the process. The proletariat is more than just the active and passive part of this process: the rise and evolution of its knowledge and its actual rise and evolution in the course of history are just the two different sides of the same real process. It is not simply the case that the working class arose in the course of spontaneous, unconscious actions born of immediate, direct despair (the Luddite destruction of machines can serve as a primitive illustration of this), and then advanced gradually through incessant social struggle to the point where it “formed itself into a class.” But it is no less true that proletarian consciousness of social reality, of its own class situation, of its own historical vocation and the materialist view of history are all products of this self-same process of evolution which historical materialism understands adequately and for what it really is for the first time in history.

Thus the Marxist method is equally as much the product of class warfare as any other political or economic product. In the same way, the evolution of the proletariat reflects the inner structure of the society which it was the first to understand. “Its result, therefore, appears just as constantly presupposed by it as its presuppositions appear as its results.” [37] The idea of totality which we have come to recognise as the presupposition necessary to comprehend reality is the product of history in a double sense.

First, historical materialism became a formal, objective possibility only because economic factors created the proletariat, because the proletariat did emerge (i.e. at a particular stage of historical development), and because the subject and object of the knowledge of social reality were transformed. Second, this formal possibility became a real one only in the course of the evolution of the proletariat. If the meaning of history is to be found in the process of history itself and not, as formerly, in a transcendental, mythological or ethical meaning foisted on to recalcitrant material, this presupposes a proletariat with a relatively advanced awareness of its own position, i.e. a relatively advanced proletariat, and, therefore, a long preceding period of evolution. The path taken by this evolution leads from utopia to the knowledge of reality; from transcendental goals fixed by the first great leaders of the workers’ movement to the clear perception by the Commune of 1871 that the working-class has “no ideals to realise”, but wishes only “to liberate the elements of the new society.” It is the path leading from the “class opposed to capitalism” to the class “for itself.”

Seen in this light the revisionist separation of movement and ultimate goal represents a regression to the most primitive stage of the working-class movement. For the ultimate goal is not a ‘state of the future’ awaiting the proletariat somewhere independent of the movement and the path leading up to it. It is not a condition which can be happily forgotten in the stress of daily life and recalled only in Sunday sermons as a stirring contrast to workaday cares. Nor is it a ‘duty’, an ‘idea’ designed to regulate the ‘real’ process. The ultimate goal is rather that relation to the totality (to the whole of society seen as a process), through which every aspect of the struggle acquires its revolutionary significance. This relation informs every aspect in its simple and sober ordinariness, but only consciousness makes it real and so confers reality on the day-to-day struggle by manifesting its relation to the whole. Thus it elevates mere existence to reality. Do not let us forget either that every attempt to rescue the ‘ultimate goal’ or the ‘essence’ of the proletariat from every impure contact with – capitalist- existence leads ultimately to the same remoteness from reality, from ‘practical, critical activity’ and to the same relapse into the utopian dualism of subject and object, of theory and practice to which Revisionism has succumbed. [38]

The practical danger of every such dualism shows itself in the loss of any directive for action. As soon as you abandon the ground of reality that has been conquered and reconquered by dialectical materialism, as soon as you decide to remain on the ‘natural’ ground of existence, of the empirical in its stark, naked brutality, you create a gulf between the subject of an action and the milieu of the ‘facts’ in which the action unfolds so that they stand opposed to each other as harsh, irreconcilable principles. It then becomes impossible to impose the subjective will, wish or decision upon the facts or to discover in them any directive for action. A situation in which the ‘facts’ speak out unmistakably for or against a definite course of action has never existed, and neither can or will exist. The more conscientiously the facts are explored – in their isolation, i.e. in their unmediated relations – the less compellingly will they point in any one direction. It is self-evident that a merely subjective decision will be shattered by the pressure of uncomprehended facts acting automatically ‘according to laws’.

Thus dialectical materialism is seen to offer the only approach to reality which can give action a direction. The self-knowledge, both subjective and objective, of the proletariat at a given point in its evolution is at the same time knowledge of the stage of development achieved by the whole society. The facts no longer appear strange when they are comprehended in their coherent reality, in the relation of all partial aspects to their inherent, but hitherto unelucidated roots in the whole: we then perceive the tendencies which strive towards the centre of reality, to what we are wont to call the ultimate goal. This ultimate goal is not an abstract ideal opposed to the process, but an aspect of truth and reality. It is the concrete meaning of each stage reached and an integral part of the concrete moment. Because of this, to comprehend it is to recognise the direction taken (unconsciously) by events and tendencies towards the totality. It is to know the direction that determines concretely the correct course of action at any given moment – in terms of the interest of the total process, viz. the emancipation of the proletariat.

However, the evolution of society constantly heightens the tension between the partial aspects and the whole. Just because the inherent meaning of reality shines forth with an ever more resplendent light, the meaning of the process is embedded ever more deeply in day-to-day events, and totality permeates the spatio-temporal character of phenomena. The path to consciousness throughout the course of history does not become smoother but on the contrary ever more arduous and exacting. For this reason the task of orthodox Marxism, its victory over Revisionism and utopianism can never mean the defeat, once and for all, of false tendencies. It is an ever-renewed struggle against the insidious effects of bourgeois ideology on the thought of the proletariat. Marxist orthodoxy is no guardian of traditions, it is the eternally vigilant prophet proclaiming the relation between the tasks of the immediate present and the totality of the historical process. Hence the words of the Communist Manifesto on the tasks of orthodoxy and of its representatives, the Communists, have lost neither their relevance nor their value:

“The Communists are distinguished from the other working-class parties by this only: 1. In the national struggles of the proletarians of the different countries, they point out and bring to the front the common interests of the entire proletariat, independent of nationality. 2. In the various stages of development which the struggle of the working class against the bourgeoisie has to pass through, they always and everywhere represent the interests of the movement as a whole.”

March 1919.



next section

Georg Lukacs Internet Archive

NOTES

1. Introduction to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right , p. 52.

2. Ibid., p. 54.

3. Nachlass I, pp. 382-3. [Correspondence of 1843].

4. Ibid., p. 398. See also the essay on Class Consciousness.

5. Feuerbach and the End of Classical German Philosophy.

6. A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, (my italics). It is of the first importance to realise that the method is limited here to the realms of history and society. The misunderstandings that arise from Engels’ account of dialectics can in the main be put down to the fact that Engels – following Hegel’s mistaken lead – extended the method to apply also to nature. However, the crucial determinants of dialectics – the interaction of subject and object, the unity of theory and practice, the historical changes in the reality underlying the categories as the root cause of changes in thought, etc. – are absent from our knowledge of nature. Unfortunately it is not possible to undertake a detailed analysis of these questions here.

7. Ibid., pp. 298-9.

8. Introduction to The Class Struggles in France . But it must be borne in mind that ‘scientific exactitude’ presupposes that the elements remain ‘constant’. This had been postulated as far back as Galileo.

9. Capital III, p. 205. Similarly also pp. 47-8 and 307. The distinction between existence (which is divided into appearance, phenomenon and essence) and reality derives from Hegel’s Logic. It is unfortunately not possible here to discuss the degree to which the conceptual framework of Capital is based on these distinctions. Similarly, the distinction between idea (Vorstellung) and concept (Begriff) is also to be found in Hegel.

10. Capital III, p. 797.

11. A Contribution to Political Economy, p. 293.

12. Ibid., p. 273. The category of reflective connection also derives from Hegel’s Logic. [See Explanatory Notes for this concept].

13. The Poverty of Philosophy, p. 123.

14. We would draw the attention of readers with a greater interest in questions of methodology to the fact that in Hegel’s logic, too, the relation of the parts to the whole forms the dialectical transition from existence to reality. It must be noted in this context that the question of the relation of internal and external also treated there is likewise concerned with the problem of totality. Hegel, Werke IV, pp. 156 ff.

15. Marx, Theorien über den Mehrwert, Stuttgart, 1905, II, II, pp. 305-9.

16. Marxistische Probleme, p. 77.

17. Theorien über den Mehrvert, III, pp. 55 and 93-4.

18. The Poverty of Philosophy, pp. 123-4.

19. A Contribution to Political Economy, pp. 291-2.

20. The very subtle nature of Cunow’s opportunism can be observed by the way in which – despite his thorough knowledge of Marx’s works – he substitutes the word ‘sum’ for the concept of the whole (totality) thus eliminating every dialectical relation. Cf. Die Marxsche Geschichts- Gesellschafts- und Staatstheorie, Berlin, 1929, II, pp. 155-7.

21. Wage Labour and Capital.

22. Capital I, p. 568.

23. Cf. the essay on Reification and the Consciousness of the Proletariat.

24. Capital I, p. 578.

25. Hegel, The Philosophy of Right, trans. T. M. Knox, Oxford, 1942, p. 283.

26. Nachlass II, p. 187. [The Holy Family, Chapter 6]

27. It comes as no surprise that at the very point where Marx radically departs from Hegel, Cunow should attempt to correct Marx by appealing to Hegel as seen through Kantian spectacles. To Marx’s purely historical view of the state he opposes the Hegelian state as ‘an eternal value’. Its ‘errors’ are to be set aside as nothing more than ‘historical matters’ which do not ‘determine the nature, the fate and the objectives of the state’. For Cunow, Marx is inferior to Hegel on this point because he ‘regards the question politically and not from the standpoint of the sociologist’. Cunow, op. cit. p. 308. It is evident that all Marx’s efforts to overcome Hegelian philosophy might never have existed in the eyes of the opportunists. If they do not return to vulgar materialism or to Kant they use the reactionary elements of Hegel’s philosophy of the state to erase revolutionary dialectics from Marxism, so as to provide an intellectual immortalisation of bourgeois society.

28. Hegel’s attitude towards national economy is highly significant in this context. (Philosophy of Right, § 189.) He clearly sees that the problem of chance and necessity is fundamental to it methodologically (very like Engels: Origin of the Family S.W. II, p. 293 and Feuerbach, etc. S.W. II, p. 354). But he is unable to see the crucial importance of the material reality underlying the economy, viz. the relation of men to each other; it remains for him no more than an ‘arbitrary chaos’ and its laws are thought to be ‘similar to those of the planetary system’. Ibid. §. 189.

29. Engels, Letter to J. Bloch, 21 September 1890.

30. Nachlass I, p. 381. [Correspondence with Ruge (1843)].

31. The Philosophy of History.

32. Theses on Feuerbach.

33. See the essay Class Consciousness for an explanation of this situation.

34. The Philosophy of Right, § 346-7.

35. Nachlass II, p. 133. [The Holy Family, Chapter 4].

36. Hilferding, Finanzkapital, pp. VIII-IX.

37. Capital III.

38. Cf. Zinoviev’s polemics against Guesde and his attitude to the war in Stuttgart. Gegen den Strom, pp. 470-1. Likewise Lenin’s book, “Left-Wing” Communism – an Infantile Disorder.





Oct 19, 2015

Shiv K.Kumar

                        Shiv K.Kumar As A Poet of The Body, Not The Soul
BY:
Bijay Kant Dubey

Each weekend, before Sunday rituals
remind them of old commitments,
even gods play truant.
How long can the soul’s breath vanquish
the red flame?

Here the sculptor’s hands
have forged wanton patterns
witnessed by bird, got and priest
as in every cosmic gyre
the entire creation participates.

Since any distance
between leaf and bud, bone and flesh
hand and breast, only whets appetite
these tones brook no restraint.
They flow into a confluence of navels,
legs and thighs, leaving blemishes
even on a lotus palm.

Aren’t there holes
even in sastras
that only the serpent can plug?
         -----Khajuraho
(Shiv K.Kumar, Woolgathering, Orient Longman, Hyderabad,1998, p.24)

Before we start the discussion, there conjure up the ideas and images with regard to the title, what it should be while dispening with Shiv K.Kumar and his poetry, should it be, Shiv K.Kumar As A Poet: A Study In Vatsyayana’s Kamsuttra, Poems As The Frescoes of Khajuraho And Konark: A Study In Shiv K.Kumar’s Poetry, Man-woman Relationship As It Is In Shiv K.Kumar or The Poetry of Flesh And Blood, Attraction And Repulsion: A Study of Shiv K.Kumar & His Sensuality? Poetry as the terracottas of sex and sensuality; flesh and blood relationship, poetry as the sculptures in love representing intrinsic stone work is the first that comes to our mind. Poetry to Shiv K.Kumar is articulate silences, silences articulated and muffled down; poetry to him is woodpeckers pecking at, giving a shrill call, sounding the carpenter’s music. If not, poetry is subterfuges; broken columns and if that too is not, poetry is cobwebs glisening in the sunlight. But one must keep it in mind he is no romantic or a nature-lover. Shiv is confessional and autoiograhical, sensual and intuitional. This is what he held in the past, but of late he has turned to life poems as the title Where Have The Dead Gone? And Other Poems shows it. Poetry is subterfuges; woolgathering and he is a sleep-walker, a day-dreamer. His insomnia many have failed to comprehend. D.H.Lawrence’s Clara of Sons and Lovers seems to be the poetic protgonist of the poet. The White Peacock, Women in Love, The Rainbow, The Fox, The Virgin And The Gipsy, would have definitely enthralled him. The things of the unconsious mind get an upper hand and to judge him is to penetrate psychologically.  

Shiv K. Kumar is one of those lucky writers of Indian English verse whose names appear together with some others just as the exponents of so-called modernism and that too in the aftermath of India’s independence, after being liberated from the British shackles of slavery, when the university-bred, city-dwelling intelligentia took to writing sporadically and sparsely in English, if not as the harbingers can definitely be reckoned with on the basis of, as per the books published and brought out and tendered so far, from time to time, emboldening the stature, but it is a fact too side by side,  when they started to write, they had been aware of it that they were going to make a name and fame in the field of literature, as there was none to judge and evaluate and assess and to enter into, as does a literary surveyor or a registrar. When they set out on their journey as the friends and collegaues of P.Lal long back dabbling in verse, the slender and thin collections started to appear, tumble and trickle down from Writers Workshop as there was a dearth of literary talents. One used to smile and laugh after marking the slender, lean and thin poetry volumes consisting of just a handful of poems and similar had been the case with all of these. R.Parthasarathy, Keki N.Daruwalla, Jayanta  Mahapatra, Kamala Das, are the birds of the feather flocking together with and Shiv K.Kumar can be no exception to us for which history is a witness. If this be the case, one cannot be seen in isolation as they were of the same type and tenor. Shiv K.Kumar though he may be well-read and intellectual, but is a poet of the body, not the soul, as because he seems to be closer and drawn to the body of flesh and bones rather the soul of transcendental meditation and spiritual bliss. Vatsyayana, Sigmund Freud, D.H.Lawrence and Acharya Rajneesh take the things away from him and he seems to be looking up to them in thankfulness and gratitude. Sexual overtones and undertones lie muted in interspersing here and there and he takes the benefit of doubt. Whatever be that, the modern verse practiontioners were not so as they are today, there were no takers or buyers of their theories and them as they seem to be today. The anthology and credo published by P.Lal if one seeks to go through, peruse and scrutize will find that the novice and imamture ones figuring in as the practioners, not as the poets and his was an experiment with. All the modern poets whom we read today have evolved today, were not as we see them today. Modern Indian English poetry if one charters the course of it will come to mark it that it is a study in first-poem writers and first-book publishers and they made a name when they wrote their first poems and the first anthologies were on the anvil and they write the poems of the same sort and stuff.

When on the threshold of fifty, Shiv K.Kumar turned to poetry-writing after being moonstruck with the Cupid’s arrow. Had the seeds been sown earlier, he could have been more emotional  and passionate about, but irnoy and sex twitched him otherwise and he took to the women in love and relaionship, love and hate theme, attraction and repulsion story. Man-woman relationship held parleys with and he gave time to. Lady Chatterley’s Lover engaged him and he found favours with. Had he started earlier, would have been spontaneous and natural. If to see the whole panorama otherwise, Shiv K.Kumar is but Lady Chatterley’s lover.

Born in Lahore, British India in 1921, Kumar matriculated from Dayanand Anglo Vedic High School in 1937, studied his B.A. at Governement College, Lahore and his M.A. at Forman Christian College, Lahore in 1943 and in the same year of his passing, he joined D.A.V. College, Lahore as lecturer, but moved to Delhi during the Partition.  After a brief stint as lecturer at Hansraj College, Delhi and as programme officer at the All India Radio, Delhi, he left India to join Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge 1950. In 1956 he received his Ph.D. in English Literature from the University of Cambridge for his topic of dissertation 'Bergson and the Stream of Consciousness Novel' under the research supervision of Professor David Daiches. Even F.R.Leavis hs tutored him during his stay in Cambridge. After his sojourn and return from, he taught English Literature at Osmania University and the university of Hyderabad and in 1972-74 as a UGC National Lecturer in English. Later, he worked in various capacities as Head of the Department of English, Dean of the School of Humanities and Vice-Chancellor of the University of Hyderabad. Apart from all this, he was Distinguished Visiting Professor at the Universities of Oklahoma and Northern Iowa, Visiting Professor at the Universities of Drake, Hofstra, Marshall, etc. and  also a Visiting Fulbright Fellow at Yale University and was nominated member of the Jury for the Neustadt International Prize for Literature (USA, 1981).

Poetry Works:
Articulate Silences, Writers Workshop,Calcutta, 1970
Cobwebs in the Sun, Tata McGraw Hill, New Delhi, 1974
Subterfuges, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 1976
Woodpeckers,Sidgwick & Jackson, London, 1979
Trapfalls in the Sky, Macmillan, Madras, 1986
Woolgathering, Orient L:ongman, Hyderabad, 1995
Thus Spake the Buddha, UBSPD, New Delhi, 2001
Losing My Way, Peacock Books, New Delhi, 2008
Voice of Buddha: A Poetic Transcreation of The Dhammapada, Atlantic, New Delhi, 2008
Which of My Selves Do You Wish to Speak to? Selected Poems, Penguin, New Delhi, 2011
Where Have the Dead Gone? And Other Poems, Authorpress, New Delhi, 2015

His collegues continue to prod in the styles of their type, quite private and personal and it is no different from, as modernity, urbanity, city-culture form the crux of his poetry; the core-content of what he has seen in India and what he has America and comparing them both for poetic effects. Where have The Dead Gone? And Other Poems is a collection of its type where the ageing poet ruminates over the terror and horror of death in a different way, where he has to go by being transported to the world of the spirit, ghost, shadow and the wind. The images of his make us remember of Donne, Tennyson, Tagore, Keats, Lamb and Mare. Shiv K.Kumar as a poet is spiritually sick and the meditative strain lies it blood-stained. What Donne discusses in his poem, Death, Be Not Proud and Tennyson in Crossing The Bar, similar is the version of his story of going said or unsaid.

A picture of the Indian Women
Shiv K.Kumar draws it rightly keping in view their life and liberty. A life of ghettos and taboos is before her to follow and she cannot cross the Lakshmanrekha circling the courtyard and she is none but Ghumtawalli, Burquawalli, Purdahwalli.

In this triple-baked continent
women don’t etch angry eyebrows
on mud walls.
   Patiently they sit
   like empty pitchers
   on the mouth of the village well
pleating hope in each braid
of their mississippi-long hair
looking deep into the water’s mirror
   for the moisture in their eyes.
   With zodiac doodlings on the sands
   they guard their tattooed thighs
waiting for their men’s return
till even the shadows
roll up their contours
   and are gone
   beyond the hills.

---Indian Women By Shiv K.Kumar                                                           
(Chosen And Edited By R.Parthasarthy, Ten Twentieth Century Indian Poets, Oxford University Press, 2002, p.34)

The first collection which he published in 1970 namely Articulate Silences just contains in 34 pages in total and this is what made his beginning for and from this one can envisage how the present poets and poetesses had been then. The good ones never tried to put in as for taking English to be one of the sahibs, not their own and for choosing an alien tongue to write in, but we are doing with the mediocre ones and this much gives satisfaction to us in being with the whiffs and wisps of Indian English poetry. The terracotta plates of love and sensuality, clay baked and  picturesque can oputdo the verses laced with love and sensuality. There is nothing barring the female talk; the feminine attraction. Life around sex is the main thing of his poetry. Silences too conpire and construe the things in his poetry and he misunderstands and misreads them, so much intriguing.  

If one asks, what is verse to Shiv K.Kumar, one will feel oneself in an awkward position. Poetry to Kumar is columns, broken columns of verse; poetry to Kumar is intuition gathering strength over intellect and scholarship, it is but sex, sexual love and imagery which prevails upon the poetic self and he longs for an expression to channelize it otherwise. Had he gone through Vatsyayana’s Kamsuttra, it would have been better; had he the frescoes of Khajuraho and of Konark, it woud have jolted him for an impact to mark and see the erotica and sensuality carved and chiselled as sculptures of love and lust in stone and pottery.The erotic scenery laced with love-making and hugging, cuddling and passionate embrace delight him internally which appears to be psychically emboldening and elevating enough. A Rajneeshite yogan seems to be the poetic protagonist and mouthpiece of Shiv K.Kumar. Sexual dissatisfaction may be another cause of his dabbling or may be it there is some sort of love and betrayal felt in his life which he has experienced and that he refers to indirectly in his poetry. The libido is the source of his inspiration and it comes in the form of poetic urge to contribute to. Poetry to him is a visit to Ajanta and Ellora, Khajuraho and Konark as the poet keeps marking the frescoes in love and relationship. The hanging breasts and tattooed thighs are the source of his delight.

Shiv.K.Kumar covers the picures and images of different landscapes which he carries it with himself and it is visible in his writings. The names of the places picture frequently as he keeps moving from Lahore to Delhi to Cambridge to Hyderabad. A refugee he had a trying time which he felt and experienced it himself while moving out in the aftermath of the Partition. The trauma  and tragedy of living, the pain and suffering he could not discern it seconded by his divorce and the litigation expected.

What he was he will remain so unto the last, a Punjabi-speaking poet, he carried the refugee’s voice, angst and bewilderment, rootlessness and search for identity to drown it all into the waters of sexuality and sexual pleasure. A poet of kaam-vasanaa, lust, infatuation and yearning, he is sensual, erotic, bodily and physical. The love of the body is the main thing of his poetry. Perhaps Shiv K.Kumar too like D.H.Lawrence attaches not it to over intellectualization and rationalization of thought and idea. His saga of divorce too has ruffled him and he is both a refugee and a divorcee.

Losing My Way as a collection contains in so many, starting from Sunday Morning, Shimla; Stones; Hamlet; Weeds; Ruins at Agra; Adam to God; The Suns Eye; Losing My Way; Vandana Weds Ramesh; Wall Clock; The Garden; Dj Vu; A Nightmare; Walking in the Rain; Two Strangers on a Train; Whisperings of Immortality; Listening to Shiv Sharma’s Santoor; Siesta; As He Lay Dying; Casino at Las Vegas; Triveni; At the Circus; Birth of a Poem; The Snail; The Coconut Tree; Peacocks Mating; Bhishampitamah to Yudhishter Dharamaraj, etc in its own. The Moving Finger; Window-shopping; Learning to Walk; Brooding; The Survivors; Lying Low; Street Children; On Reading Dostoevskys Notes from Underground; A Tiger Skin at the Country Club; In Memory of Begum Akhtar; A Circuitous Road; Paper Boats; Lightning; Riding a Horse; Telling Beads; Crossing the Street; A Love Letter to My Wife; An Anonymous Letter; I’m Still Waiting for You; Words; The Mist; A Poets Meet; A Letter to Kabir; I’m Afraid of Tomorrow; A Cock-fight; Feeding the Pigeons; Finale, all these tell a saga of some sort.

It is often charged that Shiv K.Kumar is bodily and physical rather than loveful and metaphysical as is amorous and sensual at the same time.  A poet of hugs, embraces and clasps, his is a story of relationship. The lusrous eyes, luscious lips and appleyish cheeks tempt him and he gets lured away. Eve’s temptation he can never drive away and is guilty equally. Even if debarred and banned to taste, he will like to taste the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden. Man’s fall and the first act of disobedience is the point of his choice. As Kamala is so is Shiv, both of them bodily and physical. The mind cannot rise beyond the spectrum and dimension of sex. For Shiv, a woman’s beauty is in sex; flesh and blood. Shiv cannot love the soul at all. The parts of the womanly body are the things of his deliberation. A poet of the vigin whiteness, the fair sex, the better half is he Shiv K.Kumar. Sexual love and imagery is the chief property of the poet and he delights in.  Shiv K.Kumar if to change the metaphor is but not a yogi, but a bhogi; a sadhu with ganja and ladki in the ashrama as was Khushwant Singh deliberating upon daru, ladki and sex jocularly in his columns and in the novel The Company of Women. Sex is the ganja of Kumar. We do not know if Shiv K.Kumar is the Bluntschli or Sergius of George Bernard Shaw’s Arms and the Man in search of Raina or Louka.

Shiv K.Kumar is not a common man poet never easily comprehensible to the readers, but a complex one, highly intellectual and difficult as is the problem with the modern writers of verse and so is the case with him, what the moderns write they understand it best and none but they themselves can explain it in a better way rather than the practising critics in the absence of some canons or rules of criticism.

Somewhere Shiv K.Kumar outdoes us through his intuition and imagery where the element of sex and sexuality lessens it as for example, Kali,

Stone eyes of a mangled street dog
glare at my self’s patina.
The rufous tongue of a cobra
sticks out each time
I circle  round your ebony torso,
jabbed in the privates
by your devotees.

Beyond the priest’s monotone
a lamb bleats for the knife-edge.
A child clinging to famished
nipples will die anyway,
but your nectar is the blood
that jets from fresh arteries.

If the way to create
is the way to kill,
I have hoarded enough blood
in my throat
for all the hyenas to suck from.
(Ibid, p.58)

*Kali  Goddess of destruction to whom bloody sacrifices are offered.

The private and personal reflection of Kali, describing and delineating in such a way, painting, sketching and drawing is stupendous, magnificent enough to make a way for him into the realms of Indian English poesy and here lies in the poetic verve and talent of Shiv.K.Kumar. It is really astounding to explain Kali to the East and the West through such a syntax and phraseology. Who can else pen down such a poem, mystical and dark?

Oct 14, 2015

Master and Slave: Aristotle

For Original click on the above link

How Aristotle’s Politics Exhibits Ambivalence Toward Slavery
KEVIN LAGRANDEUR

Department of English
New York Institute of Technology
klagrand@nyit.edu


Aristotle, in his Politics, elides the notions of slaves and tools, thereby calling forth the idea of artificial slaves, primarily by focusing on all potential providers of intelligent labor (humans, horses, even tools) as objectified sets of functions—in other words, he elides the ideas of things, animals and people, focusing on what Norbert Wiener would call their “operative images” rather than their physical character.  His focus on operation, or function, over form provides Aristotle with a precedent for thinking of a conglomeration of individual entities as one tool, anticipating the idea of intelligent networks.  But, perhaps more importantly, we can see in these formulations of Aristotle’s ambivalence toward slavery (defined here as chattel slaves that can be bought and sold, versus serf-like groups, such as the helots of Sparta or the penestae of Thessaly).

Aristotle sees slaves primarily in teleological and pragmatic terms: they are animate tools that the master uses to achieve an end.[i]  The particular end of the servant is action, as opposed to production.  For the householder or the craftsman, a servant is a type of tool whose chief function is to use other tools, which then produce material results.  In essence, Aristotle thinks of human slaves as part of a network of tools that allow the master to “live well” or to conduct his business effectively.  This network, as Aristotle defines it, is hierarchical: “a possession is a tool for living, and one’s possessions are a collection of tools; a slave, then, is a particular sort of animate tool, and every servant is a tool prior to other tools” (1253b31-33). 

It is clear that, because of this teleological focus, in which a slave is merely “a tool prior to other tools,” or a tool of higher position in the hierarchy of instruments, function is paramount (1253b33).  The ability of a human servant to take orders and translate them into action is at the heart of a slave’s purpose.  Therefore, the humanness of the servant’s form is important only as it contributes to function: human hands can move the shuttle on a loom; human understanding (as opposed to rational thought, which Aristotle contends is absent in slaves) [ii] allows orders to be followed.  This focus on function is evident from the terms in which Aristotle contemplates the possibility of artificial servants.  Even though his fantasy about artificial servants is meant to illustrate why human slaves are necessary, he does not speak of the human shape as integral to his notions; instead, he imagines its erasure.  “If,” he postulates, “a shuttle worked by itself and a plectrum struck the chords of a lyre by itself…masters would have no need of [human] slaves” (1253b38-40).  Accordingly, a reified capacity for intelligent work, rather than the human form, as such, is at the heart of his vision of the artificial slave.  “Suppose,” he continues, “that each tool could follow orders, or could itself perceive in advance what is needed, and so could complete its work by itself” (1253b34-35).  It is clear that Aristotle’s end in articulating this notion of self-guiding tools is to make functionality more economical and direct.  He is, in essence, imagining the elimination of the troublesome “middleman” that the fully-embodied, human slave represents.

The fact that he clearly envisions all servants, artificial or human, as essentially mobile, intelligent instruments, is further demonstrated by the remarkable absence of the human shape in Aristotle’s other examples of artificial servants.  For instance, the moving tripods that Hephaestus fashions in the Iliad, which are mentioned in Book 18 of Homer’s epic, and which Aristotle uses as one of his models, are supposed to wait on the gods in their banquet hall; yet, despite this patently human function, they have simple, non-human, utilitarian shapes.  They are essentially intelligent serving-trays on wheels that go from Hephaestus’ house to the gods’ assemblies and, presumably, from guest to guest.[iii] 

The instrumental view that Aristotle has of servants does not mean that he sees no attachment or relationship between master and servant.  On the contrary, he considers servants to be associated in a kind of network with their master, as organs are to the body.  As he puts it, “The slave is a sort of part of the master since, though he is separated from his master’s body, he is a sort of animate part of it” (1255b11-12).  In other words, one could say that, for Aristotle, servants are tantamount to extensions of the master’s body.  This is signaled by the fact that Aristotle uses the word organon to denote both tools and bodily organs.  He sees them as one in the same because they both work toward the same telos, the well being of the master.  The servant is a part of the master in that he is “an animate tool…for living” (1253b31-33).  Aristotle’s use of a ship’s rudder and human lookout as examples of the kinds of tools he is speaking of is revealing:  “The pilot [of a ship]…uses the rudder as an inanimate tool, and the lookout as an animate tool” (1253b28-30).  In other words, the rudder acts as a modified extension of the pilot’s arms, and the lookout acts as an enhancement of his eyes—they are, in effect, prostheses, augmentations of the master’s body and senses, and the distinction between animate and inanimate form is secondary.[iv]

Collectively, the pilot’s inanimate and animate tools provide a sort of extended somatic network that allow him to more effectively steer his ship—a network which, with its parts, is an extension of the master himself.  By implication, then, the pilot’s apparatus of human slaves and other, “inanimate tools” is essentially one large tool—a system driven by a collection of intelligences, but centered on the master as its major node, an arrangement which enhances the master’s power to act upon his environment.  In terms of the relationship between the master and the slave, the foregoing reinforces Aristotle’s view of the slave as a “possession” of the master (1254a-b), as a “tool for living,” and it suggests that servants’ bodily forms are unimportant to Aristotle except for the functions they may provide the master’s body, functions that Aristotle would gladly see transferred to non-human, artificial forms, if possible. 

The most obvious implication of Aristotle’s focus on function in his discussion of slaves—and of his couplings of the somatic and the artificial, of the organic and the inorganic, the sentient and the owned—is that, by equating the human and the tool, the master can feel comfortable about his domination of the Other.  For a tool is not human, like the master, and therefore not within his circle of empathy.  This objectification makes ownership acceptable.  For example, the concept of slaves as simply part of a network makes them seem less human than if they were seen as individuals.  The pilot’s servants are, for Aristotle, just a collection of parts, an apparatus, mere addenda to the master’s body.  Whatever semblance of humanity, reason, or capacity for independent action they may possess, the only true human is the pilot their actions center on and whose agency they extend.  Furthermore, Aristotle’s idea of the artificial servant—an intelligent tool that is a product of human craft—reinforces this sense of license toward the Other, for we generally equate making and owning.  His notion of the artificial servant is, in this sense, an ethical convenience because it allows him to skirt the questions inherent in the subjugation of those who may not fit his criteria for “natural slaves.”

Nevertheless, Aristotle’s argument for the notion of the natural slave, and his presumable use of it as a defense of the widespread practice of slavery in Greece, runs into some problems.  In Book 1, chapter 5 of the Politics, he struggles to explain the difference between the purportedly inferior, “thinking” slave, and the supposedly superior, “reasoning” master—making the somewhat contradictory distinction that slaves can think well enough to perceive reason in another, but do not themselves have the ability to reason (1254b, 21-23).  The strain in this distinction of Aristotle’s is clearer in his earlier contemplation of artificial servants, where he notes that one of the ways in which they would be useful is that they could, implicitly like human slaves, “perceive in advance what is needed, and so could complete [their] work by [themselves]” (1253b34-35). ).  It is hard to see how “perceiving in advance what is needed” is not a form of reasoning.  And since he is implicitly equating these automatic, reasoning tools to human slaves, he is also implicitly contradicting his own argument that these humans are natural slaves—which is also to call into question the innate superiority of the master, a problem that becomes more pointed when he turns to the issues of aristocrats who are forced into slavery by law or war, and of human volition.

He gets stuck on the issue of volition—of human slaves’ capacity for independent action—in Book 1, chapter 6, finally admitting that there are those who never make good slaves because they refuse to see themselves as such—usually because they are slaves by law or force rather than by birth, and so not “natural slaves.”  Notably, Aristotle frames this admission in somatic terms.  He talks of how these kinds of rebellious individuals do not serve as good extensions of the master’s body, whereas the truly “natural” slave benefits from the rule of the master for reasons having to do with telos—Aristotle’s idea that complementary parts are meant to complete a larger whole.  He describes the difference between natural and unnatural slaves as follows:
For the same thing is expedient for the part as for the whole…and the slave is…a sort of animate part of [the master’s body].  Hence the same thing is expedient for slave and master, and there is friendship between them, if they are naturally worthy of these positions; but the contrary is true of those who are slaves only by convention and force and do not deserve to be slaves. (1255b9-15)
Aristotle’s acknowledgement that certain slaves are the products of convention or force and that there will be friction between these servants and their masters, and also that these kinds of slaves will feel that they deserve to be included among the society of masters, signals strain in his justification of the common Greek practice of slavery.  He allows that some slavery is not workable and, implicitly, not proper because some slaves, such as aristocrats captured in battle, do not readily fit the definition of “natural” slave, nor can they be convinced that they do.
           
            Because of this, and because, for the Greeks, high social status was presumed to be coincident with higher powers, such as reason, Aristotle’s statement also implies that those of higher social station who become slaves by convention or force can be a danger to their master because they are more powerful than the average slave, and they know it.  Much closer to our time, Hegel deals with the dangers of forced enslavement more explicitly in his discussion of the master-slave dialectic.  In Hegel’s conception, society is constantly unsettled because those who are masters always attain their status by some kind of force; moreover, their slaves (or “bondsmen,” as Hegel puts it) eventually gain power through their constant labor, their remaking of nature, which allows them a sense of self and power formerly denied by their subordination to the master.  Simultaneously, the masters, as those bondsmen gain a stronger sense of self and power, suffer an erosion of self-consciousness and power both because their sense of self is dependent upon the weak recognition given them by their bondsmen, and because they have an ever-decreasing contact with work and the natural world.  This shifting power differential threatens to reverse the master-slave relationship.  Thus, certain slaves, not only by dint of their birth (as Aristotle would have it), but also by their awareness of the very power disparity between them and their master, in terms of their control over material means of production, become rebellious.[v]  This weakens any network of servitude (a point on which Marx capitalizes later, in his work).  In light of these considerations, we can say that Aristotle’s dream of automatic slaves is not simply a fantasy about having a more efficient source of slave labor, but also another type of tacit admission of the tension that underlies his (and implicitly his society’s) attempts to rationalize slavery.  Aristotle’s very comparison of his idea of automatic slaves to the automata created by the gods carries an implicit anticipation of Hegel’s notions, a recognition of the differential in power that might exist between the truly useful, powerful servant and his master.
           
Thus we see that the effective end of servitude for Aristotle—the element that is most important to him—is also the most dangerous: the slave, along with other, inanimate tools, provides a system that extends the master’s practical functions and thereby provides an augmentation of his means of working his will upon nature.  However, this potential that inheres in the servant to augment the master’s domination of nature is also a prime source of friction between servant and master.  Aristotle tacitly admits the difficulty of controlling such powerful, sentient “tools” as human slaves when he states that the main advantage of an artificially made slave would be that “master-craftsmen would have no need of servants, and masters would have no need of slaves” (1254a, 1-2).  Why dream of getting rid of human slaves at all, if not for the pesky business of keeping a hold over rebellious servants, as well as of maintaining them?[vi]  But besides this inconvenience, there is also, as is clear from my previous discussion, his ambivalence about the propriety of enslaving certain classes of people, and his difficulty explaining how some humans can be considered “natural” slaves.  Indeed, the very need to defend the idea that “natural slaves” exist points to qualms about his compatriots’, and perhaps about his, views of slavery.  Thus, there are numerous indications in his own writing that Aristotle may not have been completely convinced of his own arguments in support of slavery.



NOTES

[i] My source for Aristotle’s discussion of servants and slavery is his Politics, from the recent translation: Aristotle: Selections, trans. Terence Irwin and Gail Fine (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1995) 450-460.
[ii] Aristotle maintains that, although the servant like any other beast of burden has enough intelligence to understand instructions and even, unlike beasts, to know reason when he hears it, the slave does not possess the ability to reason.
[iii] Iliad 18:368; Aristotle, 1253b36-37.
[iv] As Katherine Hayles has pointed out, prosthetic devices, though conventionally thought of as “modifications intended to compensate for deficiencies,” can also include additive functions, “interventions designed to enhance normal functioning.”  See How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics, (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1999) 84.
[v] G. F. W.  Hegel, The Phenomenology of Spirit.  IV.A.
[vi] Although it is clear that the main reason to dream of doing away with human slaves is to decrease the owner’s trouble and expense, a number of things also, as I have mentioned, point to some ambivalence in Greek society and on Aristotle’s part toward owning other humans.  Not least among the evidence of this is the very need to defend the idea that “natural slaves” exist.  Aristotle’s discussion in the Politics seems to indicate that, though reluctant to admit it, he is aware of the dehumanizing force of slavery on both master and slave.

Oct 10, 2015

Gadar

Copy from above line

Gadar – Overseas Indians Attempt to Free India from British Serfdom
By Inder Singh

Gadar Movement is the saga of courage, valor and determination of overseas Indians who had come to Canada and the United States either for higher education or for economic opportunities. They imbibed the fire and zeal of revolutionaries and became the trail blazers of freedom struggle for their motherland, India. They may have lived ordinary lives but they left an extra-ordinary legacy.

At the dawn of the twentieth century, both India and Canada were British dominions, so, Indians had easier access to emigrate to Canada. The new immigrants were hard working and accepted lower wages, so some Canadian companies publicized the economic and job opportunities available in Canada to seek more cheap labor from India. During the first few years, every year about 2000 immigrants, mostly Punjabi farmers and laborers were permitted to come. As the number of immigrants increased, the locals felt threatened by labor competition from the hardy and adventurous Punjabis. Fear of labor competition led to racial antagonism and demands for exclusionary laws from cheap foreign Asian workers. In 1909, severe immigration restrictions virtually ended legal Indian immigration to Canada.

When Indian immigrants saw the doors closing on them in Canada, they started coming to the United States which needed more people to do hard labor work to build new communities. In the U.S, they faced many difficulties, suffered numerous hardships and encountered rampant discrimination. Initially, they could find only menial jobs, but over a period of time and with their hard work and determination, many of them became successful farmers with their own land.

Within a span of few years, number of immigrant workers had swelled, so they starting facing widespread hostility which led to racial riots, resulting in certain cases, a loss of life and property. Like Canada, the United States, which had initially welcomed the Asian labor to do menial jobs, enacted Asian exclusionary laws to bar Asians emigrating to the United States.

For discriminatory treatment and damages in race riots, the Japanese and Chinese governments sympathized with their overseas nationals and negotiated with the American government for compensation for life and property losses. But the British Indian Government would not make any representation to the U.S. Government for similar losses. Indians soon realized the difference between the citizens of a “slave” country and those ruled by their own people.

The United States had also welcomed qualified Indian students seeking admissions in the American universities. However, upon graduation, they were not able to get jobs commensurate with their qualifications. The discriminatory practices were against the very ideals of liberty and freedom they had seen in their University environment. The Indian students attributed the racial prejudice and discrimination to their being nationals of a subjugated country. They were motivated to get rid of the foreign rule in India and were determined to fight for freedom for their motherland. They also started fostering feelings of patriotism and nationalism among their fellow Indian Immigrants.

Many Indians and particularly Indian students in the USA, Canada, England, Germany, and France, started advocating freedom for their motherland, India from British serfdom. They formed organizations or groups for India’s freedom. Taraknath Das, a student, started publishing a magazine Free Hindustan in 1907 in Seattle, advocating armed rebellion against the British rule in India and also formed “East India Association" in 1911; G. D. Kumar started a Punjabi paper Swadesh Sewak in Vancouver while Shymji Krishna Varma founded Indian Home Rule Society in London.         

In the United States, Har Dyal who had come from England after relinquishing his scholarship and studies at Oxford University was identified with nationalist activities. He inspired many students studying at the University of California at Berkeley. Two of his many student followers,  Katar Singh Sarabha and Vishnu Govind Pingle later on played very  prominent role in the Gadar movement. Dyal’s fervor forIndia’s freedom spread beyond the university campuses. A meeting of some patriotic and enlightened Indians was called on April 23, 1913, in Astoria, Oregon, where Har Dyal, Bhai Parmanand and others passionately spoke for throwing the British out of India. It was  at this meeting that Hindustan Association of the Pacific Coast was formed with a major objective to liberate India with the force of arms from British colonialism, just as Americans had done more than a century ago, and help establish a free and independent India with equal rights for all. Sohan Singh Bhakna was elected President, Hardayal, General Secretary, and Pandit Kanshi Ram Mardauli, Treasurer. Lala Har Dayal who had been a faculty member at Stanford University for about two years, was the central figure and the force behind the newly formed organization.

The headquarters of Hindustan Association of the Pacific Coast  was established in San Francisco, which served as a base for coordination of all the activities of the association. A building was purchased with funds raised from the community, primarily Punjabi farmers and  farm and  lumber mill workers and was named Yugantar Ashram. The association began publishing a magazine, Gadar, for free distribution to promote the aims, objectives and activities of the organization. Gadar, literally means revolt or mutiny, was published in Urdu, Hindi, Punjabi, among other languages. “The first issue of the journal Gadarwas in Urdu and was published on November 1, 1913. An edition of the journal was brought out next month in Gurmukhi and in May 1914 a Gujrati edition of the journal was also published.” Says Anil Ganguly in his book “Ghadar Revolution in America.”

The Gadar publication exposed the British imperialism and called upon the Indian people to unite and rise up against British rule and throw the British out of India. It carried articles on the conditions of the people of India under British Rule and also on problems of racial attacks and discrimination against Indians in the USA and Canada. The publication Gadar, over a period of time, became well known among Indians and the Hindustan Association of the Pacific Coast itself became known as the Gadar party. Besides Gadar, the group brought out various publications to raise the consciousness of the Indian people to revolt against the British. Special issues of Gadar were also printed in Nepali, Bengali, Pashto, Gujrati, as well as in many other languages.

Gadar literature was sent to Indian revolutionaries in India, Europe, Canada, Singapore, The Philippines, Hong Kong, China, Malysia, Singapore, Burma, Egypt, Turkey, and Afghanistan. In a short period of time, publications from the Yugantar Asram, particularly the Gadar magazine became very popular.  The British government got alarmed and used every means to stop the circulation of Gadar and other such publications, particularly in India. The magazine, being the principal patriotic literature, reached many people; even if one copy reached India or to a fellow revolutionary elsewhere, multiple copies were made for circulation.

Hindustan Association was  barely a few months old when under pressure from the British Indian Government, Har Dyal was arrested by the U.S. Government. He was released on bail on March 24, 1914 but soon left for Switzerland and then to Germany.  The sudden departure of Har Dyal did create some vacuum in the organizational structure of the association but it did not cause the death of the organization. The seed of revolt that Har Dyal sowed, had developed into a formidable organization. Many committed and dynamic volunteers continued to work tirelessly and pursued the planned activities of the association.

In Germany, Har Dyal continued to promote his mission, independence for India. He knew that Germans had great sympathy with the Gadar movement because they and Gadarites had common enemy, the British. Har Dyal, along with Virendra Nath Chattopadhyay, younger brother of politician-poetess Sarojani Naidu, Barkatullah, Bhupendra Nath Datta, brother of Swami Vivekananda, Ajit Singh, Champak Raman Pillai, Tarak Nath Das, and Bhai Bhagwan Singh formed Berlin Indian Committee in September 1914, also known as the Indian Revolutionary Society. The objectives of the society were to arrange financial assistance from German Government  for revolutionary  activities and propaganda work in different countries of the world, plan training of volunteer force of Indian fighters and arrange transportation of arms and ammunitions to reach the Gadarites for a revolt against the British Government in India.  

The war between Germany and England broke out in August, 1914 and created a golden opportunity for gadarites to expel the English from India while British troops would be busy fighting war at the front. The gadarites started forceful campaign to mobilize overseas Indians in Singapore, Burma, Egypt, Turkey and Afghanistan and particularly Punjabis in Canada and the USA to go to India and launch revolution. They drew plans to infiltrate the Indian army and excite the soldiers to fight not for but against the British Empire and free India from the shackles of British imperialism. The Indian Revolutionary Society in Berlin had arranged for substantial financial aid from Germany. The German Embassy in Washington had engaged a German National in the United States to liaison with the Gadar leadership inSan Francisco . Several ships were commissioned or chartered to carry arms and ammunitions and batches of Indian revolutionaries, about 6000, to India.

Besides Germany, the gadarites also sought help from anti-British governments. In December 1915, they established a Free Hindustan government-in-exile in Kabul, Afghanistan, with Raja Mohinder Pratap as President, Maulavi Barkatullah as Prime Minister and Champakaran Pillai as Foreign Minister. The government-in-exile tried to establish diplomatic relationships with countries opposed to the British in World war l such as Turkey, Germany, Japan, etc. The gadarites also established contact with the Indian troops at Hong Kong, Singapore, and in some other countries and hoped for their participation in the uprising against the British.

The British Government tried to suppress the Gadar Movement and had hired agents to penetrate the Gadar party almost from the beginning. Har Dyal used the columns of Gadar to caution his compatriots against British spies. The traitors of the Gadar movement leaked out the secret plan to the British spies. As a result, the ships carrying arms and ammunitions never reached India. Germany was originally planning to send more ships carrying arms and ammunition to India, lost interest in the venture after seeing the fate of original vessels. Many gadarites and volunteer fighters were taken captives upon reaching India. Some of the active gadarites who escaped arrests, including Kartar Singh Sarabha and Vishnu Govind Pingle, made alliance with Ras Behari Bose and other known revolutionaries in India. They had come to India to overthrow the British rule and wanted to unite and work with all those forces that were working to liberate India. They tried hard to mobilize the people and infiltrate into various units of the armed forces. But the British spies out maneuvered them. They also could not get the support of Mahatma Gandhi and other leaders of India’s Freedom movement, who had already committed full co-operation with the British Indian Government.  

Before leaving for India, the Gadarites were given the impression that India was ready for a revolution. So, when the World War l provided a golden opportunity for them to attain their goal, they hurried homeward for revolution. What an irony; while the gadarites had gone to India to fight willingly for the freedom of their motherland, the Indian leadership openly and willingly co-operated with the British prolonging India’s serfdom; while the overseas Indians prayed in Gurudwaras and temples for the success of Gadarites’ mission, the people in India flocked to Gurudwaras and temples to pray for the victory of the British.

The Gadarites had a flame of liberty lit in their hearts, and did not hesitate to make any sacrifice for the cause of freedom, dignity and prosperity of their motherland. They fought valiantly for their cause; several Gadarites in India were imprisoned, many for life, and some were hanged. In the United States too, many Gadarites and Germans who supported Gadar activities, were prosecuted and some were incarcerated for varying terms of imprisonment. Although the movement did not achieve its stated objective, but it awakened the sleeping India and left a major impact on India’s struggle for freedom. The heroism, courage and sacrifices of the Gadarites inspired many freedom fighters to continue their mission.

A prominent Indian writer, Khushwant Singh, wrote in Illustrated Weekly, on February 26, 1961,  “In the early months of World war I, an ambitious attempt to free their country was made by Indians living overseas, particularly in the United States and Canada. Although the overwhelming majority of the Gadrites were Sikhs and the centers of revolutionary activity were the Sikh temples in Canada, the United States, Shanghai, Hong Kong and Singapore, many of the leaders were of other parties and from different parts of India, Hardyal, Ras Bihari Bose, Barkutullah, Seth Husain Rahim, Tarak Nath Das and Vishnu Ganesh Pingley. …… The Gadar was the first organized violent bid for freedom after the rising of 1857. Many hundreds paid the price with their lives.”


Inder Singh is President of Global Organization of People of Indian Origin(GOPIO)  and chairman of Indian American Heritage Foundation. He was NFIA president from 1988-92 and chairman from 1992-96. He was founding president of FIA, Southern California. He can be reached at indersinghusa@hotmail.com

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