We are here to discuss themes and problems of the Marxist conception of history a hundred years after the death of Marx. This is not a ritual of centenary celebration, but it is important to begin by reminding ourselves of the unique role of Marx in historiography. I will simply do so by three illustrations. My first is autobiographical. When I was a student in Cambridge in the 1930s, many of the ablest young men and women joined the Communist Party. But as this was a very brilliant era in the history of a very distinguished university, many of them were profoundly influenced by the great names at whose feet we sat. Among the young Communists there we used to joke: the Communist philosophers were Wittgensteinians, the Communist economists were Keynesians, the Communist students of literature were disciples of F. R. Leavis. And the historians? They were Marxists, because there was no historian that we knew of at Cambridge or elsewhere—and we did hear and know of some great ones, such as Marc Bloch—who could compete with Marx as a master and an inspiration. My second illustration is similar. Thirty years later, in 1969, Sir
This influence of Marx on the writing of history is not a self-evident development. For although the materialist conception of history is the core of Marxism, and although everything Marx wrote is impregnated with history, he himself did not write much history as historians understand it. In this respect Engels was more of a historian, writing more works which could be reasonably classified as ‘history’ in libraries. Of course Marx studied history and was extremely erudite. But he wrote no work with ‘History’ in the title except a series of polemical anti-Tsarist articles later published as The Secret Diplomatic History of the 18th Century, which is one of the least valuable of his works. What we call Marx’s historical writings consist almost exclusively of current political analysis and journalistic comment, combined with a degree of historical background. His current political analyses, such as Class Struggles in France and The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, are truly remarkable. His voluminous journalistic writings, though of uneven interest, contain analyses of the greatest interest—one thinks of his articles on India—and they are in any case examples of how Marx applied his method to concrete problems both of history and of a period which has since become history. But they were not written as history, as people who pursue the study of the past understand it. Finally, Marx’s study of capitalism contains an enormous amount of historical material, historical illustration and other matter relevant to the historian.
The bulk of Marx’s historical work is thus integrated into his theoretical and political writings. All these consider historical developments in a more or less long-term framework, involving the whole span of human development. They must be read together with his writings which focus on short periods or particular topics and problems, or on the detailed history of events. Nevertheless, no complete synthesis of the actual process of historical development can be found in Marx; nor can even Capital be treated as ‘a history of capitalism until 1867’.
There are three reasons, two minor and one major, why this is so—and why Marxist historians are therefore not merely commenting on Marx but doing what he himself did not do. First, as we know, Marx had
Marx’s influence on historians, and not only Marxist historians, is nevertheless based both upon his general theory (the materialist conception of history), with its sketches of, or hints at, the general shape of human historical development from primitive communalism to capitalism, and upon his concrete observations relating to particular aspects, periods and problems of the past. I do not want to say much about the latter, even though they have been extremely influential and can still be enormously stimulating and illuminating. Capital Vol. 1 contains three or four fairly marginal references to Protestantism, yet the entire debate on the relationship between religion in general, and Protestantism in particular, and the capitalist mode of production derives from them. Similarly, Capital has one footnote on Descartes linking his views (animals as machines, real, as opposed to speculative, philosophy as a means of mastering nature and perfecting human life) with ‘the manufacturing period’ and raising the question why the early economists preferred Hobbes and Bacon as their philosophers, and later ones Locke. (For his part, Dudley North believed that Descartes’s method had ‘begun to free political economy from its old supersti