Colonialism and Anti-Colonialism in the Second International

Karl Marx’s own ambiguous and sometimes contradictory views on colonialism meant that the Second International would debate over the correct view on the matter. Donald Parkinson gives an overview of these debates, arguing that Communists today must unite around a clear anti-colonial and anti-imperialist program. 

Reactionary political cartoon. Reads: “Social-Democracy is against world politics; against colonies, against the army and navy!”

Today, when Marxism seems to be under constant intellectual assault, we hear the claim that Marxism is a Eurocentric ideology, that it is a master narrative of the European world. It could be tempting to simply dismiss this claim on its face. After all, most Marxists today live in the non-European and non-white world, inspired by the role Marxism played in anti-colonial struggles. Yet we should always pay attention to our critics, regardless of how bad-faith they may be. They can help us understand our own blind spots and weaknesses and better understand ourselves. As a result, we should take the question of Eurocentrism seriously and engage in a critical self-reflection of our own ideas. A closer look at both the works of Marx and the history of Marxist politics tells us that there were indeed Eurocentric strains in Marx’s thought. Yet through its capacity to critically assess itself Marxism has, to varying degrees of success, overcome its Eurocentrism to develop a true universalism, against a false universalism that only serves to cover for a deeper European provincialism. 

Marxism developed in Europe as a worldview designed to secure the emancipation of the world from class society. This is the source of internal tension within Marxism: on one end there is the universalist scope of Marxism, an ideology designed to unite all of humanity in a common struggle. On the other end, there is the source of Marxism in the continent of Europe, an ideology that was shaped by the specific processes of capitalist development that propelled Europe into an economic power standing above the rest of the world. It would be foolish to simply dismiss charges that Marxism contains Eurocentric elements that exist in tension with its universalism. There is no better example of these tensions in Marxism than the different views on colonialism within the movement. 

Colonialism in the history of Marxist thought served as a challenge for Marxism to overcome its own Eurocentrism. Within the works of Marx one can find different approaches to colonialism that could be read as apologetic to colonial expansion or firmly opposed to it, supporting the struggles of colonized people against their dispossession. As a result, the followers of Marx who formed the mass parties that came to be known as the Second International did not have a single position on colonialism that they could take from Marx. There was instead a series of often contradictory positions on colonialism within his work that provided justifications both for supporting colonialism and opposing it. There was also a theoretical heritage within Marxism, economistic developmentalism, that would be used to justify colonialism in the name of socialism. 

To better understand these tensions in Marxism, we should examine Marx’s views on colonialism and the first major debates on colonialism in the Second International. These debates are an important part of a greater historical narrative, in which Marxism developed as an ideology in Europe and became the siren song of countless anti-colonial revolts against European domination. Marxism was able to overcome its initial Eurocentrism, but not without a struggle internal to itself and its intellectuals. In better understanding the history of this intellectual struggle, we can better identify the theoretical errors that held Marxism back from becoming a truly universalist worldview, which could serve as a political creed for the emancipation of the world, not only Europe. 

Marx on Colonialism

To begin, it is necessary to look at Marx’s own views on colonialism and their development over his lifespan. Marx’s views on colonialism were never straightforward, and taken as a whole can be seen as inconsistent and contradictory, leaving room for interpretation. It is this openness for interpretation that allowed colonialism to be an open question for his initial followers. Within Marx one can find, on the one hand, a view of economic development and historical progress suggesting that European colonialism was a harbinger of progress, bringing the “uncivilized world” into “civilization” by laying the seeds for capitalist development and therefore proletarian revolution. And on the other hand, one can find in the later works of Marx the beginnings of an anti-imperialist and anti-colonial politics.  

In his well-known Communist Manifesto, written in 1848, Marx comes across as almost a colonial apologist of sorts, pointing to the rise of the capitalist world market as an accomplishment of a historically progressive bourgeoisie, and colonialism as a means through which this world market is established: 

The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely facilitated means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilization. The cheap prices of commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters down all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians’ intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt the bourgeois mode of production; it compels them to introduce what it calls civilization into their midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it creates a world after its own image.1

Referencing “Chinese walls”, Marx strongly suggests that England’s First Opium War against China was in the long run historically necessary and progressive, bringing a “barbarian nation” into “civilization”. For Marx in 1848, colonialism wasn’t so much something to be condemned and battled, as it was part of a historical process through which capitalism would conquer the world and create the necessary pre-conditions for a communist future, with all nations passing through a similar route of development. However, with time, Marx’s views on the matter would develop. 

After moving to London in 1849, Marx would take up a career as a journalist and wrote a series of articles on non-western societies. One of the first of these was the 1853 piece The British Rule in India. In this article, Marx expresses sympathy with the victims of British colonialism in India, while at the same time seeing British imperialism as essentially progressive, claiming that 

“English interference, having placed the spinner in Lancashire and the weaver in Bengal, or sweeping away both Hindu spinner and weaver, dissolved these semi-barbarian, semi-civilized communities, by blowing up their economical basis, and thus produced the greatest, to speak the truth the only social revolution ever heard of in Asia.”2 

Marx suggests that through its colonial process, the British are essentially bringing a stagnant and backward society into history, and only through its interference and disruption of this social formation can India become a real actor on the world stage of history. However, this one-sided view would not remain consistent in Marx himself. The conclusion to his 1853 series of articles on India, The Future Results of British Rule in India, would argue for a social revolution in Britain to challenge colonial policy and also point to the possibility of a movement for national independence from British rule. He would also condemn the “profound hypocrisy and inherent barbarism of bourgeois civilization” which “lies unveiled before our eyes, turning from its home, where it assumes respectable forms, to the colonies, where it goes naked.”3

Marx’s ambiguity here can be seen as a result of what the scholar Erica Benner calls a “two-pronged assault on the conflicting reactions of British MP’s to the government-sponsored annexation of ‘native’ Indian states.”4 On one side of this conflict were reformers who denounced the colonization as a crime pure and simple, while on the other end were those who saw colonialism as a historical necessity. For Marx, the former were ineffectual moralists while the latter simply apologists for bourgeois rule under the guise of patriotism. Marx sought to stake out a position between these two camps. To simply morally condemn colonialism seemed to suggest a return to a mythic pre-contact golden age, while to affirm the right of the Empire to annex India would be justifying naked bourgeois interests. By seeking out a position beyond this binary Marx sought to develop a position that would be able to reap the “benefits” of colonization while still looking beyond it. 

Political cartoon referencing the British-Chinese opium wars.

In the latter years of the 1850’s Marx’s views on colonialism would develop remarkably in contrast to his earlier views. In his 1857-59 series of articles on China and the Second Opium War, any lauding of the progressive effects of colonialism in China is absent. Rather, Marx would focus on heavily condemning French and British colonialism, going so far as to gleefully report the British and French taking 500 casualties and mocking British editorialists who proclaimed their superiority to the Chinese. Marx would also espouse a more anti-colonialist position in his articles on the Indian Revolt of 1857-58, and in a letter to Engels in January, 1858 would tell his close intellectual and political partner that “India is now our best ally.”5

In the course of the 1850s, Marx would move from viewing colonialism as progressive to supporting anti-colonial uprisings. He would likewise support independence for Ireland from Great Britain and Poland from the Russian Empire, agitating for these positions within the First International and the British labor movement. Marx and Engels both would take the position that British workers must support the national liberation of Ireland in order to fight against anti-Irish chauvinism in the labor movement. This was a development from an earlier position that Ireland’s liberation would come through incorporation into a socialist multinational Britain.6 Rather than seeing the separation of Ireland as impossible, it was now inevitable if the unity of the labor movement was to be reached. Only after the separation of Ireland from the British Empire could a multinational socialist state be formed. The merging of nations into a socialist republic would have to occur on the terms of the Irish, not the British:

The first condition for emancipation here – the overthrow of the British landed oligarchy – remains an impossibility, because its bastion here cannot here be stormed so long as it holds its strongly entrenched outpost in Ireland. But once affairs are in the hands of the Irish people itself, once it is made its own legislator and ruler, once it becomes autonomous, the abolition there of the landed aristocracy (to a large extent the persons as the English landlords) will be infinitely easier than here, because in Ireland it is not merely a simple economic question but at the same time a national question, for the landlords there are not, like those in England, the traditional dignitaries and representatives of the nation but its morally hated oppressors.7  

From this one can see the development of the Leninist position of the right of nations to self-determination. This position was able to condemn colonialism forthright, without resorting to a moralistic fetishization of traditional pre-colonial society. Marx linked the liberation of the working class in the metropole with the national liberation of the colony, creating a vision of revolution that put agency in the hands of colonized rather than resigning them to passive objects to be liberated by the working class of the more advanced nations. Engels would continue this thesis after the death of Marx in regards to India and other colonies, stating that the proletariat in the metropole could “force no blessings of any kind upon any foreign nation without undermining its own victory by so doing.” Socialism could not be brought to colonized people through imperialist bayonets; instead the colonies were to be “led as rapidly as possible to independence.”8

From this evidence it is clear that Marx (and Engels) began with a more ambiguous and even positive view of colonialism, and moved to a more critical view, developing the beginnings of an anti-colonial Marxism. Yet these anti-colonial positions were mostly found in fragments throughout letters rather than systematized in popular agitational material. As a result, when developing a politics based on the views of Marx, his followers could selectively pick out specific passages from his works to bolster positions that were apologetic of colonialism. While we should be critical of such a scholastic approach to politics, there can be no doubt that many of the Marxists of the Second International justified their positions on readings of Marx. 

“Proletarians of all countries unite.” Stage of Second International Conference in Amsterdam, 1904.

Bernstein vs. Bax on Colonialism 

In 1889 the foundation of the Second International saw the beginning of an era of Marxism without Marx, and in 1895 without Engels. The wisdom of the founders would soon no longer be a guiding light for the movement, and a new generation of intellectuals would have to carry the torch. The work of Marx and Engels, while providing a theoretical framework for questions like colonialism and imperialism, hardly provided a full, all-encompassing answer to properly deal with these questions. A single party line that could be applied wasn’t developed. It would be up to debate and deliberation within the union to determine the correct way forward. 

In 1896, a year after the death of Engels, the debate would flare up, the two most prominent voices in the dispute being the German Eduard Bernstein and the British Belfort Bax. These debates were triggered by rising tensions between Armenians and the Sultan’s regime in Turkey, with Germany poised to intervene in the Armenians’ favor. In his 1896 article German Social Democracy and the Turkish Troubles, Bernstein would argue strongly in favor of supporting the Armenians, using the rhetoric of more “advanced” nations having a historic duty to “civilize savages”. His arguments would be hard to distinguish from the rhetoric of the colonialists themselves, claiming:

Africa harbors tribes who claim the right to trade in slaves and who can be prevented from doing so only by the civilized nations of Europe. Their revolts against the latter do not engage our sympathy and will in certain circumstances evoke our active opposition. The same applies to those barbaric and semi barbaric races who make a regular living invading neighboring agricultural peoples, by stealing cattle, ect. Races who are hostile or incapable of civilization cannot claim our sympathy when they revolt against civilization.9

Bernstein would of course aim to give his blatant colonial apologism a humanitarian aspect, adding, “We will condemn and oppose certain methods of subjugating savages.”10 Yet in the end Bernstein upheld that colonialism was progressive and should be supported, that it was part of a historical process in which backwards societies would be brought into civilization. He therefore argues for German support in the cause of the Armenians against Turkey using this line of thought. 

Belfort Bax, an SDF11 theorist who, like Bernstein, was also controversial, would respond to Bernstein with the harshly titled Our German Fabian Convert: or Socialism According to Bernstein. Beginning his response by accusing Bernstein of ‘philistinism’, Bax would go on to attack Bernstein’s arguments on three fronts. The first was that socialism was not the equivalent to what the bourgeois colonialists called civilization but rather its negation, that the “civilization” imposed on colonized populations was nothing of the type socialists should support. 

Portrait of Belfort Bax

In his second point, Bax would argue that while it was correct that capitalism was a precondition for socialism, it was not necessary for capitalism to be spread to every single corner of the earth:

“The existing European races and their offshoots without spreading themselves beyond their present seats, are quite adequate to effect Social Revolution, meanwhile leaving savage and barbaric communities to work out their own social salvation in their own way. The absorption of such communities into the socialistic world-order would then only be a question of time.”12 

This would tie into the third part of Bax’s rebuttal of Bernstein, which was that rather than spreading capitalism to create the preconditions of socialism, colonialism actually gave capitalism a longer lease on life. Capitalist overproduction, an expression of its own internal contradictions, was the motor force behind the drive for capitalist nations to compete for colonial territories and engage in colonial conquests. By opening up new markets for commodities and cheap labor, capitalism would “soften” its internal crisis tendencies, hence delaying the “final crisis” that would allow for its revolutionary destruction. Hence Bax would make the direct opposite argument as Bernstein: rather than supporting colonial ventures, albeit in a “humane” manner, Social Democracy should support all resistance movements against colonialism regardless of how reactionary they may be, as their victory would increase the internal contradictions of capitalism and speed up its demise.

Bernstein’s next response to Bax, Amongst the Philistines: A Rejoinder to Belfort Bax, would primarily repeat his prior arguments: that “savage races” deserve no sympathy from socialists despite the need for condemning the most brutal forms of colonial subjugation. What exact methods of subjugation were acceptable and which weren’t isn’t clarified by Bernstein, the only clear part of this argument being that subjugation was necessary. This time Bernstein would also make references to the works of Marx and Engels, claiming that Bax was an idealist who was ignorant of what their own positions would have been on this matter. This reveals how the contradictory positions on colonialism in the writings of Marx would leave these issues up to open debate.13

The next round of debates between Bax and Bernstein would resume in late 1897, with Bax’s Colonial Policy and Chauvinism. The arguments in this piece show a development in thought in response to the positions of Bernstein, which Bernstein presented as authentically Marxist due to his upholding of capitalism as a progressive force based on free-labor spread through colonialism. Responding to this notion, Bax would argue that the labor regimes in the colonized nations were not in fact progressive regimes based on “free” waged labor, but a system which “combines all the evils of both systems, modern wage-labor and caste-slavery, without possessing the decisive advantage of the latter.”14 He would also claim that the chauvinism associated with the Anglo-Saxon domination which came with colonialism would be an obstacle to a future brotherhood of humanity, by bringing about a world culture dominated by a single ethnic group. This point would be buttressed with a claim that his stance was not merely a moral one based on abstract notions of human rights, but rather one which was based on a concrete strategy to overthrow capitalism.15 Also of importance is to note that Bax would also draw from the writings of Marx and Engels to make these arguments, countering the use of their arguments by Bernstein. 

Bernstein would respond to these arguments with a two-part article, The Struggle of Social Democracy and the Social Revolution. Here he accuses Bax of seeing no deprivations and oppression where capitalism doesn’t exist, essentially holding onto a romantic view of non-capitalist societies. Countering Bax’s argument that the labor regimes introduced in the colonies aren’t progressive and actually based on free labor, Bernstein makes the argument that these initially harsh and un-democratic regimes will naturally evolve into democratic ones as if this tendency is inscribed into capitalism itself. Regardless of the cost, for Bernstein “the savages are better off under European rule.”16

With regards to Bax’s concerns about Anglo-Saxon cultural dominance, Bernstein simply argues that this is countered by France and Germany stepping up to join in as competitors in colonialism. Even if this wasn’t the case, Bernstein sees the cultures victim to colonialism as having no national life of their own, hence being better off assimilated. Not only is this argument obviously chauvinistic in acting as if only Europeans have an authentic culture, but it acts as if the same critique that Bax makes wouldn’t also apply to European dominance and not just Anglo-Saxon dominance.17

Also key to Bernstein’s reply to Bax is his rebuttal of the claim that opposing colonialism will hasten the “final crisis” of capitalism. Bernstein argues against the idea that capitalism will collapse due to its internal crisis tendencies, and argues instead for gradually reforming capitalism to transform it into socialism. It was through this argument that Bernstein would find himself in a political camp that completely diverged from the revolutionary Marxism of the SPD majority, his camp in the party being labelled as “revisionists”.18 Bernstein began from a position of defending colonialism on orthodox Marxist grounds, only to find himself exiting orthodox Marxism in the process. 

Karl Kautsky on Colonialism 

Karl Kautsky, possibly the most well-respected intellectual voice in the Second International, would initially side with Bernstein in the debate, calling Bax an idealist.19 Yet as the debate progressed  Kautsky’s views on colonialism would develop so as to lean more in the direction of Bax’s position in its political conclusion, and point official SPD policy in a more anti-colonial direction. By the time of the 1898 Stuttgart Conference, Kautsky would openly condemn Bernstein’s views. Despite his condemnation of Bernstein, a closer look at Kautsky’s writings on the topic of colonialism reveal a degree of moral ambiguity. 

In his 1898 article Past and Recent Colonial Policy, Kautsky lays out his basic framework for understanding colonialism. His argument rests on two basic claims. The first is that industrial capitalists do not have a material interest in colonialism, and instead favor a policy of free trade referred to as Manchesterism. For Kautsky, Manchesterism is not only based on laissez-faire economic policy but also “preaches peace”.20 To the extent that industrial capitalists are interested in colonialism, it is for export markets, which do not always align with colonial policies. Following this claim, Kautsky makes the argument that the class basis for colonialism is basically pre-capitalist aristocratic elites who form the military/colonial bureaucracy and finance/commercial capital. Colonialism is not a policy of the historically progressive industrial capitalist, but a reactionary and backwards policy based on the interests of classes antagonistic to industrial capital. In Kautsky’s analysis: 

“the same industrial capitalist, who at home will resist any worker protection law without any qualms, and have no compunction about whipping women and children in his bagnio, becomes a philanthropist in the colonies – an energetic foe of the slave trade and slavery.”21 

To explain Germany’s rising interest in imperialism, Kautsky claims that it is to maintain competition with the French and British, whose colonialism is fueled by the pre-capitalist elites and financial capitalists. This argument essentially turns Bernstein’s on its head, countering that colonialism is not a product of capitalism’s progressive tendencies but rather a holdover of reactionary classes. However we can find inconsistent aspects of this argument. For example, he ascribes to settler colonies “based on work” a progressive quality in contrast to colonies based on pure rent extraction. This not only confuses his own argument but reveals moral blindness to the genocidal nature of settler colonialism.22 In 1883 Kautsky would make a similar argument, counterposing the “progressive” and “democratic” colonialism of the USA and England to that of Germany.23 This is in sharp contrast to the arguments made by Bax, which while not purely based on appeals to morality, are strongly based in a moral condemnation of all colonialism. This attitude toward settler-colonialism is also apparent in his 1899 article The War in South Africa, which simultaneously argues for supporting the Boers against the British Empire and asserts, “We, by contrast, condemn modern colonial policy everywhere.”24

Official Resolutions 

The SPD conference in Mainz on September 17-21, 1900 would see the party take up an official resolution on imperialism. Rosa Luxemburg would emerge as a powerful anti-colonial voice, condemning the war against China while urging for active anti-war agitation. The mood of the conference was overall anti-imperialist, with delegates condemning Germany’s intervention in the war against China. Contrary to the views of Bernstein, the resolution passed would state that military conquest was an all-out reactionary policy:

“Social Democracy, as the enemy of any oppression and exploitation of men by men, protests most emphatically against the policy of robbery and conquest. It demands that the desirable and necessary cultural and commercial relations between all peoples of the earth be carried out in such a way that the rights, freedoms and independence of these peoples be respected and protected, and that they be won over for the tasks of modern culture and civilization only by means of education and example. The methods employed at present by the bourgeoisie and the military rulers of all nations are a bloody mockery of culture and civilization.”25

Ultimately it would be the positions more aligned with those of Kautsky and Bax that would win out as the official policy of the SPD. Bernstein would represent a pro-colonialist minority in the party, with some members of the International like Henriette Roland Holst claiming that the mere existence of this minority in the party shouldn’t be tolerated. Days after the Mainz conference the entire International would have a conference in Paris and a similar resolution would be passed, this time with Luxemburg authoring a resolution that not only condemned imperialism but described it as a necessary consequence of capitalism’s newest contradictions.26

The SPD’s Dresden Congress in 1903 and the Sixth International Congress in 1904 would further affirm an anti-imperialist stance. Yet while international congresses were of symbolic importance to the Social Democratic movement (seen as “international workers’ parliaments”), one must take into account the federal structure of the party. Each national party was ultimately autonomous in its decision-making authority, being left to itself to make its own programs and tactical decisions. The congresses were taken seriously by parties but ultimately no central body had the authority to enforce their decisions until the International Socialist Bureau (ISB) was formed at the Paris conference in 1900. Even then, the actual authority of the ISB was ill-defined, and the tendency towards autonomy prevailed. This would mean that parties in the International primarily saw themselves as national parties who served workers on a national basis rather than sections of a single world party.27 The extent to which resolutions would actually be binding on parties was therefore very ambiguous. 

Delegates to the 1910 Stuttgart Conference

Stuttgart Congress

In 1907 the SPD would face a disappointing loss in the electoral campaign known as the Hottentot elections. The Hottentot elections occurred in the context of a pro-colonial nationalist fervor caused by the German colonial war and genocide in South-West Africa, where approximately 65,000 Hereros were massacred in the period from 1904-1908. While the number of eligible voters to the Reichstag election had risen significantly (76.1% in 1903 to 84.7% in 1907), the SPD would lose almost half of its delegates in the Reichstag (81 seats to 43 seats).28 Expecting that more eligible voters would mean more electoral success, the results of this defeat would throw the SPD into a period of doubt and reignite debates over colonial policy. 

According to Carl E. Schorske the districts the SPD had maintained in the elections were primarily the working class dominated ones. The section of the electorate lost was the salaried professionals and small shopkeepers, who had fallen prey to the nationalist fervor of the German campaign in South-West Africa. According to Kautsky, the bourgeoisie had promoted the future colonial state as a more attractive alternative to socialism for these strata, something Social Democracy had greatly underestimated. The right wing of the party would respond by asserting that excessive radicalism had cost them votes; the more left-wing elements would point to the Hottentot election as proving the unreliable nature of this “petty-bourgeois” stratum. The radicals in the party therefore saw this as a reason to increase attacks on nationalism and colonial policy while the rightists saw it as a reason to push for a softer stance on colonial policy.29

Alexander Parvus, belonging to the left-wing of the party, would write an in-depth study of the colonial question in response to the Hottentot failure, Colonies and Capitalism in Twentieth Century. Unlike Kautsky’s 1898 pamphlet, Parvus would place colonialism in the context of the contradictions of the modern capitalist system, with overproduction, the falling rate of profit and the merging of production and exchange in finance capital as the motor force behind colonial policies, rather than pre-capitalist elites.30 He cited the increasing imperialist policies of the British Empire as symptoms of its decline as a hegemonic world power, scrambling to hold onto supremacy as it collapses.31 From this theoretical study, Parvus came to the conclusion that colonial policies are symptoms of the decline of capitalism that will present the proletariat with an opportunity for revolutionary action. No political support for colonial policy of any kind was acceptable in Parvus’ view.32

Following the Hottentot failure was the Stuttgart Conference of 1907. This conference would see the colonialism debates resume, this time with a victory for the right. The conclusions made by Parvus, that colonialism was a symptom of capitalist crisis that must be combated with revolutionary action, would be rejected by the majority of conference delegates. In a shift to the right, Luxemburg’s anti-imperialist resolution from the 1900 congress would be dropped and replaced through a process of contentious debate. 

One of these debates was between two delegates of the German party, Eduard David and George Ledebour. David quotes August Bebel, a highly respected leader of the party, as saying “it makes a big difference how colonial policy is conducted. If representatives of civilized countries come as liberators to the alien peoples in order to bring them the benefits of culture and civilization, then we as Social Democrats will be the first to support such colonizing as a civilizing mission.”33 The fact this quote is from August Bebel, one of the most important leaders of the Social Democratic movement, is revealing. It shows that for many Social Democrats, opposition to colonialism wasn’t opposition to European supremacy and was still premised on the legitimacy of a European civilizing mission. It was merely the methods of colonialism that were opposed, methods that were to be replaced by peaceful ones that would make Europeans welcome missionaries of progress. 

Ledebour would respond by polemicizing against Bebel as well as David, arguing that Bebel’s position asserted the possibility that colonial policy could be anything other than the existing horror and inhumanity that it was. Rather than calling for a more “humane” colonialism, he says that only the resistance of the exploited can lessen the brutalities of colonialism. After Ledebour spoke, a delegate from Belgium, Modeste Terwagne, would argue that if the occupation of the Congo were ended that “industry would be seriously damaged” and that “men utilize all the riches of globe, wherever they may be situated.”34 

Ledebour and a Dutch Socialist, Hendrick van Kol, would draft a resolution in compromise with the socialist colonizers who condemned existing colonial policy while neglecting to condemn colonial policy under capitalism in general. Terwagne would introduce an amendment that affirmed the potential for a socialist colonial policy that acted as a civilizing force, while David would add another amendment saying that “the congress regards the colonial idea as such as an integral part of the socialist movement’s universal goals for civilization.”35  David’s amendments was rejected and Terwagne’s was incorporated in the final draft which was accepted by a majority of the congress: 

“Socialism strives to develop the productive forces of the entire globe and to lead all peoples to the highest form of civilization. The congress therefore does not reject in principle every colonial policy. Under a socialist regime, colonization could be a force for civilization.”36 

While the resolution also contained commitments for parliamentary delegates to “fight against merciless exploitation and bondage” and “advocate reforms to improve the lot of the native peoples” it failed to reject colonialism as such and instead aimed to reform the existing colonial occupations. This turn to the right disgusted Luxemburg, Parvus and Kautsky. However, the turn towards what was essentially a pro-colonial stance was a product of democratic deliberation, a process that could be reversed through open debate. By the end of the conference, Kautsky was able to build up a bloc of support that would defeat the original resolution by a vote of 128 against 108, with 10 abstentions. Replacing the original resolution would be a resolution that would state that the congress “condemns the barbaric methods of capitalist colonization” and claim “the civilizing mission that capitalist society claims to serve is no more than a veil for its lust for conquest and exploitation.”37

While an anti-imperialist motion did pass, 128 against 108 was hardly a vast majority of delegates. Russian Social Democrat Vladimir Lenin believed this to be a sign of growing opportunism within Social Democracy, one that needed to be battled against with vigilance. The Stuttgart conference “strikingly showed up socialist opportunism, which succumbs to bourgeois blandishments” and “revealed a negative feature in the European labour movement, one that can do no little harm to the proletarian cause, and for that reason should receive serious attention.”38 Social Democracy was not guaranteed to stick to a strict anti-imperialist platform, and such a stance would have to be battled for in the halls of congresses and in theoretical debates. 

Debates on colonialism and imperialism would continue in Social Democracy, reaching an apogee when a majority of SPD Reichstag delegates would vote for war credits at the beginning of World War One, followed by the majority of other Second International parties. Ultimately Lenin’s fear of growing opportunism was proven correct. However, while one could assume that the Social Democrats who voiced opposition to colonialism most consistently would be those who vigorously opposed the war, anti-colonialists like Parvus and Belfort Bax would find themselves amongst the ‘social-patriots’ who rallied behind the war. Arguments for supporting the war would vary. In the case of Parvus it was his conclusion that it was necessary to defend the progressive German state against reactionary Czarism that led him to rally behind the Kaiser.39 If support or rejection of WWI was the ‘final test’ for Social Democrats, positions in the debates over colonialism ultimately would not serve as predictors for who would pass. 

1914 edition of German Social-Democratic newspaper Vorwärts. Reads: “Social Democracy and the War! The social-democratic faction allowed the war credits to pass”

Conclusion 

It would take the October Revolution, with its radical approach to the national question and solidarity with the struggles of colonial peoples, to truly establish an anti-colonial and anti-imperialist orthodoxy in Marxism. Lenin’s anti-colonial Marxism would inspire national liberation leaders in the colonies like Ho Chi Minh to align with the International Communist movement and deal a blow to Marxist Eurocentrism. While a blow was dealt, it wasn’t quite fatal, as European chauvinism would still haunt Marxist parties throughout the 20th Century, the most famous example being the French Communist Party’s refusal to support Algerian independence at the most crucial moment. In these instances, Euro-chauvinists were continuing an unfortunate tradition within Marxism that contested for legitimacy in the Second International using the writings of Marx himself.  

The pro-colonial positions found both in Marx and in the Second International have a common theoretical basis that can be identified as Eurocentrism. According to Samir Amin, a key theoretical backdrop to the ideology of Eurocentrism is economism, defined as the view that “economic laws are considered as objective laws imposing themselves on society as forces of nature, or, in other words, as forces outside of the social relationships peculiar to capitalism.”40 Eurocentric economism reifies economic development as an inevitable process that occurs as long as “cultural” factors don’t stand in the way. It sees the uneven development of the world and the backwardness of the periphery as a product of the specific cultures of these societies being inferior to that of Europeans, barriers to economic progress that must be broken down. In contrast, the scientific socialist view sees economic development as a process contested by class struggle and the role of imperialism in reproducing the core/periphery division

In the Eurocentric ideology, the European world is seen as a world of wealth due to its unique culture while the rest of the world is held back by its culture (Asiatic stagnation for example) and only progresses to the extent it copies Europe. History is a progressive march towards modernization, and “it becomes impossible to contemplate any other future for the world other than its progressive Europeanization.”41 The future is shaped and defined by the West, which has everything to teach the rest of the world and nothing to learn from it. As a result, Western capitalism stands as a model for the planet, its mode of development universal for all countries and only held back by internal backwardness when this development fails to take hold. This chauvinist ideology took hold over Bernstein and even Marx at times, seeing the spread of colonialism as a progressive process that would enforce the development of stagnant societies. 

According to the ideology of developmental economism, if not for the backwardness of the non-European world the development of capitalism would ultimately homogenize the world. Four-hundred years of global capitalist development has shown the world still heavily divided, not only between bourgeois and proletariat but between core and periphery nations. Capitalism is dominant in almost every country today, and the uneven development of the world still haunts the periphery. Bernstein’s vision of colonialism bringing capitalist “civilization” to the world has come to pass. Yet imperialism still ravages the world, creating what John Smith calls the super-exploitation of the global south by the developed capitalist nations. Capitalism has spread worldwide, but it has formed a global division of labor where the post-colonial proletariat labors for starvation wages to produce super-profits realized in the imperialist countries. According to Smith,

“…the very processes that produced modern, developed, prosperous capitalism in Europe and North America also produced backwardness, underdevelopment, and poverty in the Global South…the accelerated spread of capitalist social relations among Southern nations has been far more effective in dissolving traditional economies and ties to the land than in absorbing into wage labor those made destitute by the process.”42  

The historical verdict seems to have been made in favor of the arguments of Bax and the anti-imperialists rather than Bernstein. Yet we must not pretend that this debate is merely of historical importance. Today we face an imperialism more based in systematically enforced economic underdevelopment, which is maintained through imperialist police actions. Rather than direct colonialism, it is primarily economic imperialism of the more informal kind that devastates the world. As a result, the defenders of imperialism amongst the left come in different forms than the likes of Bernstein. They are not the colonial apologists of old but advocates of US intervention as progressive in certain situations or those who refuse to be critical of social democrats who vote for imperialist war budgets. There are also those who refuse to take up demands for the deconstruction of settler-colonial states, like the United States, and the national liberation of those still under settler-colonial occupation, in the name of focusing on bread-and-butter demands. As the socialist movement develops, we must learn from the failures of the Second International to clearly establish an anti-colonial and anti-imperialist position in its ranks, which exists not only on paper but in the class awareness of the rank and file. 

 

Historiography Wars: The French Revolution

Historiographical debates around the French Revolution are ultimately political debates, not just debates about the facts. Donald Parkinson argues for revitalizing the tradition of the social historians against the new revisionist orthodoxy. 

Burning The Royal Carriages At the Chateau D’Eu by Nathaniel Currier

Debates about historical events are proxies for struggles over how to run the world, how to change the world, and whether the world should even be changed. This holds true most of all for revolutions, the French Revolution being a prime exemplar. When we look at the history of the French Revolution, we see not merely a disputation over facts but a debate about their interpretation, one which is thoroughly political, not merely academic. This is a dispute that is ideologically loaded and related to greater trends in political (and therefore class) conflict. The debates about the meaning of the French Revolution do not stand outside of history; they are expressions of greater conflicts –  republicanism against monarchism, socialism and communism against capitalism, and the true meaning of democracy. We can never assume that when scholars discuss the French Revolution they are engaged in an ideologically neutral exercise of fact-finding; that work is long done. When one portrays the French Revolution as an outpouring of chaotic mob violence or as the product of greater historical process of class struggle they are elaborating a political agenda, consciously or unconsciously. History is a partisan struggle, the construction of narratives to frame significant events is a terrain of this struggle. 

Beginning the Historiographical Battle  

The historiography of the French Revolution goes back to before the closing of the revolutionary period. Edmund Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France was a response to revolutionary events that was conservative and skeptical, mostly condemning the revolution as a pointless excess. On the other side of this political divide, between monarchism and revolutionary republicanism, was Thomas Paine’s The Rights Of Man, which celebrated the democratic and republican aims of the revolution. Burke would inspire the likes of Catholic reactionary Joseph De Maistre, who saw the revolution as the bloody and chaotic result of Enlightenment ideology undermining the divine right of Kings. Following De Maistre was another Catholic reactionary, Augustin Barruel, a Jesuit priest who promoted the idea of the revolution as a plot of the Freemasons and Illuminati and invented the modern conspiracy theory.  Throughout the nineteenth century historians such as Michelet1, Guizot2 and Thiers3 would follow while building upon the tradition of Paine that saw the revolution as a triumph of the bourgeoisie (or third estate) and their values of democratic-republicanism. François Aulard, the first professional historian of the revolution, would solidify this interpretation with his multi-volume works written in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. The notion that the class which benefited most from the revolution was a progressive bourgeoisie that represented Enlightenment values was at the core of these republican historians and served as a predecessor to the Marxist argument that the revolution was a bourgeois revolution. It is this claim that would be the centerpiece of debates in the future historiography. 

We can see from the aforementioned examples that a political battle was already being fought within the historiography of the French Revolution. On one end were those who sought to defend the revolution as open new vistas of human potential, in turn espousing Enlightenment values of progress and humanism where reason would lead the way to expand freedom and liberty. On the other end were a decadent ruling aristocracy and the Catholic clergy, who saw the revolution as at best an unfortunate excess inspired by the flaws of Enlightenment ideology, at worst a Satanic punishment for the sins of man. These conflicts in the writing of history were related to a greater conflict in the nineteenth century between the forces of republicanism and the forces of monarchism. As we shall see this historiographical divide was a predecessor to the politicized historiographical debates of the twentieth century between the Marxist historians and the revisionist historians, defending the necessity of socialist revolution and the legitimacy of the capitalist order respectively.4 

Execution of Louis XVI by Carnavalet

Marxism Enters the Stage 

The development of the first mass socialist parties and the rise of a Marxist intellectual culture associated with these parties created a whole new school of thought on the French Revolution. The thought of Karl Marx was central to these parties, and would, therefore, be central to a new generation of writers and historians who apply his theories to understanding the French Revolution. Marx’s own views on the French Revolution were a synthesis of the critiques of the limits of the revolution made by early Communists such as Babeuf, Buonarroti and Moses Hess as well as the aforementioned Republican historians such as Guizot and Thiers.5 However, the most important contribution from Marx towards the historiography in question was his theory of historical materialism, which aimed to understand social development as a dynamic process fueled by class struggle. This theoretical framework would have more influence on future historians of the revolution than any of his scattered comments on the event itself. Most importantly, Marx’s thought was energized by a revolutionary politics that aimed to continue the work of the French Revolution, while also transcending it. His understanding of the revolution as a bourgeois revolution was a greater statement about revolutions and class struggle as the locomotive of history, not a mere scholarly claim. To quote Michael Löwy: 

Naturally, this analysis of the—ultimately—bourgeois character of the French Revolution was not an exercise in academic historiography: it had a precise political objective. In demystifying 1789, its aim was to show the necessity of a new revolution, the social revolution—the one Marx spoke of in 1844 as ‘human emancipation’ (by contrast with merely political emancipation) and in 1846 as the Communist revolution.6

With the intellectual breakthrough of Karl Marx, a new development in the historiography of the French Revolution would begin. A new school was in formation, one which would be known as the social interpretation. A groundbreaking work in the formation of this school was A Socialist History of the French Revolution by Jean Jaurès, one of the most prominent leaders of French socialism. Jaurès’ work was not only a work of scholarship but also a politically motivated work, one that aimed to ”recount the events that occurred between 1789 and the end of the nineteenth century from the socialist point of view for the benefit of the common people, workers, and peasants.”7 Jaurès oriented his own politics around the heritage of the French Revolution, aiming to combine its republican nationalism with the socialist ideal. He framed his politics around the French Revolution and told socialists that they were the true inheritors of its legacy. 

Jaurès’ approach to the revolution was that it was an “immense and admirably fertile event” that “signified the political advent of the bourgeois class” and “gradually set the scene for a new social crisis, a new and more profound revolution by which the proletariat would seize power in order to transform property and morality.”8 Robespierre and the Jacobins were heroes, Jaurès siding with them even when they clashed with the plebian classes because of the historical necessity of the bourgeoisie’s triumph. In some senses Jaurès oversimplified events: the revolution unfolded smoothly as if the sole cause was the economic development of the bourgeoisie. Regardless of weaknesses, his work was groundbreaking, providing the first comprehensive history of the revolution within a Marxist framework.

Jaurès used the legacy of the French Revolution to defend the politics of the Second International. Albert Mathiez, a French author writing in the years following the Russian Revolution, would turn to this legacy to defend Bolshevism and claim Lenin’s party as the inheritors of the Jacobin project. Lenin himself appealed to the legacy of the Jacobins, saying 

Bourgeois historians see Jacobinism as a fall (“to stoop”). Proletarian historians see Jacobinism as one of the highest peaks in the emancipation struggle of an oppressed class. The Jacobins gave France the best models of a democratic revolution and of resistance to a coalition of monarchs against a republic…“Jacobinism” in Europe or on the boundary line between Europe and Asia in the twentieth century would be the rule of the revolutionary class, of the proletariat, which, supported by the peasant poor and taking advantage of the existing material basis for advancing to socialism, could not only provide all the great, ineradicable, unforgettable things provided by the Jacobins in the eighteenth century, but bring about a lasting world-wide victory for the working people.9

While Jaurès saw the revolution as unfolding smoothly according to economic causes, Mathiez emphasized violence and sudden ruptural changes. One can see these differences as an expression of political divergences, Jaurès having a more reformist temperament and Mathiez being more of a militant insurrectionary inspired by the Bolsheviks. A key part of Mathiez’s writings on the revolution was the defence of the Jacobins’ use of terror, which was a rational response to issues forced upon the Jacobins by the logic of revolution. The Committee of Public Safety, said Mathiez, was “urged on by irresistible necessities…In fact these men had the dictatorship forced upon them. They neither desired or foresaw it.”10 Mathiez would directly compare the dictatorships of the Bolsheviks with the Jacobins, stating 

The origin and the strength of both dictatorships was drawn from the population of the cities, and in particular the capital. The Montagnard’ fortress was in Paris in the popular sections composed of artisans; the Bolshevists recruit their Red Guard from among the workers in the factories of Petrograd.11

In defending the Reign of Terror as something imposed by the necessity of revolution, as well as defending the French Revolution as a bourgeois revolution in line with Marx, Mathiez was, in turn, defending the tactics used by Bolshevism. He was using history as a partisan in an ideological struggle, defending the necessity of revolution for social progress with all the violent difficulties that came with it. Along with Jaurès, Mathiez was helping to form a historical school that was not only based on defending the cause of the proletariat but also was oriented around a Marxist theory of history which saw the revolution as part of a grander historical scheme centered around class struggle and changing modes of production. In doing so they set the stage for the social interpretation of the French Revolution, the interpretation that would come to be the historical orthodoxy despite its radical origins. 

The storming of the Bastille

The Social Interpretation 

The actual break between the social interpretation and its earlier Marxist predecessors is ultimately not an immense one. Jaurès and Mathiez created the basic groundwork and later historians would build upon it to form the official canon that became hegemonic in the French academy. The primary difference was one of depth and academic acclaim. It was Georges Lefebvre who would take the earlier Marxist historians and develop their work into what is known as the social interpretation. Lefebvre held a position of influence in the academy, having been named the Chair of the History of the French Revolution at the Sorbonne. Using this position of influence he was able to cement into historical orthodoxy an essential Marxist interpretation which focused on history as a process of class struggle. Yet from reading Lefebvre one gets a sense that he aimed to distance his approach from Marxism to gain acceptability in the halls of academia. He avoided its precise jargon (words such as “mode of production” or “proletariat”) while maintaining its core principles in his analysis. One of these core principles was the concept of bourgeois revolution, centered in the interpretation of Marx himself and the earlier Marxist historians. However, Lefebvre would avoid making his allegiance to Marxism stand at the forefront of his work. While Lefebre did not represent much of a break from the earlier Marxist historians, his work was able to appeal to historians who would have otherwise dismissed Marxism. This was not because of the lack of Marxist jargon in his work. Lefebvre’s innovations mostly came in his ability to pioneer what is today known as “history from below”, an approach to history that focused on the daily life and popular attitudes of everyday people. 

Lefebvre’s first work was the 1924 monograph The Northern Peasants During the French Revolution, possibly the first account of the French Revolution that focused specifically on the peasantry. In 1932 came his work The Great Fear of 1789, focusing on the violent hysteria that swept the French countryside at the beginning of the revolution. While earlier Marxist approaches focused on the importance of class, Lefebvre put a magnifying glass to the actual activity of these classes on the ground. He also aimed to elaborate a more comprehensive account of all the different classes in the revolution, not simply the bourgeoisie. His 1939 book The Coming of the French Revolution presented the revolution as more than a mere political revolution, but as a social revolution having four separate components: the aristocratic revolution, the bourgeois revolution, the popular revolution, and the peasant revolution. Lefebvre’s account still centered a rising bourgeoisie and an aristocracy in decline, the bourgeoisie having gradually developed economic power in the interstices of a society based primarily on landed property owned by the nobility. Yet the key to the power of this rising bourgeoisie was the insurgent plebian classes. Lefebvre’s focus on the peasantry showed the crucial role they played in challenging absolutism, documenting the war they waged on a system of seigneurial dues that formed the backbone of the old feudal order. In Lefebvre’s social interpretation, class struggle is a historical category of analysis that made the separate events of the revolution flow into a coherent narrative which could explain its deeper objective causes as well as the historical significance of its outcome, which was not a mere political regime change but social and economic in scope.12 In the last instance, the cause of the revolution was found in greater historical forces that extended beyond the control of its participants. Despite this source of causality in deeper material processes, Lefebvre’s writing gave life to the actions of the everyday people who made revolution. His narrative was not a mechanical and lifeless movement of expanding productive forces necessitating society to meet the needs of development. Instead, Lefebvre illustrated the movement of impersonal historical forces with the habits and consciousness of peasants, artisans, and workers as they struggled against a system of privilege and exploitation. 

Albert Soboul’s work would continue the social interpretation pioneered by Lefebvre, expanding Lefebvre’s studies of popular movements both in the city and countryside. His contributions are well represented by the 1965 book A Short History of the French Revolution. Unlike Lefebvre, Soboul used explicitly Marxist terminology (mode of production, relations of production, proletariat, ect), working more directly in continuity with Jaurès and Mathiez.13 At the core of his analysis was the complexity of interactions between classes and political groups. Radical democratic aspects of the revolution meant that the interventions of the exploited classes could shape events in ways that could be to the benefit or detriment of the bourgeoisie and even the development of capitalism.  According to Soboul, it was the masses of peasants, petty producers, artisans, and other urban workers rather than the bourgeoisie that would be the real social force that drove the revolution forward and “dealt the gravest blows to the old order of society”.14 While this interpretation was not original after the work of Lefebvre, Soboul wrote about the revolution within an explicitly Marxist framework. Where Lefebvre’s studies focused on the peasantry, Soboul would give a similar treatment to the Sans-Culottes, who would stand at the center of his 1968 work titled after these militant urban workers.15 Yet Soboul also reaffirmed that the revolution was a product of objective historical forces that were beyond the control of individual actors. 

Central to the framework of the social interpretation is the theory of bourgeois revolution. This theory holds that the transition from the feudal to the capitalist mode of production was accompanied by revolutions in which the bourgeoisie would seize political power after gradually developing an economic base within the confines of feudal society. In Lefebvre’s account, the revolution was one of  “established harmony between fact and law,” with the bourgeoisie overthrowing the absolutist state obstructing their full ascendence as a class and hence the flowering of capitalist development.16 For Soboul, the roots of the revolution go back as far as the tenth century with the revival of commerce and handicraft production, forms of wealth that were personal and movable. The bourgeoisie gradually developed greater amounts of power within the confines of the feudal order, the development of colonial empires and royal finance contributing to their rise. By the eighteenth century, the bourgeoisie is presented as having a leading role not only in commerce, industry, and finance but the administration of the state as well. Yet to fully ascend to power, the remnants of feudalism and the absolutist state that stood in the way of this rising bourgeoisie would have to be overthrown through revolution.17 Soboul’s interpretation is almost identical to how Marx describes the bourgeois revolution in the Communist Manifesto:

We see then: the means of production and of exchange, on whose foundation the bourgeoisie built itself up, were generated in feudal society. At a certain stage in the development of these means of production and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal society produced and exchanged, the feudal organization of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the feudal relations of property became no longer compatible with the already developed productive forces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; they were burst asunder.18

Within the social interpretation of the revolution, there is a sense that the revolution was in a way inevitable, a product of the unfolding of greater impersonal historical forces. This is not to say that Lefebvre and Soboul gave no sense of agency to historical actors. Their work greatly emphasized the role that the popular classes played in moving the revolution forward, often against the will of an anxious bourgeoisie. Yet at the core of this interpretation is the notion that historical events have causality in broader socio-economic factors outside the control of individuals. It is an interpretation that fits within a greater theoretical schema where history is a sequence of modes of production, with transitions between them marked by decisive class struggles, struggles in turn conditioned by the development of productive forces. History has a greater logic to it and is not merely a random sequence of events with no continuity. Nor is it without any contingency. Yet contingency is always limited: human actors make decisions within the limits of events and economic forces beyond their own control. And even these decisions are not made without conditioning from that which came before. Hungarian Marxist György Lukács described this dialectic of structure and contingency in Marxism, where history 

is no longer an enigmatic flux to which men and things are subjected. It is no longer a thing to be explained by the intervention of transcendental powers or made meaningful by reference to transcendental values. History is, on the one hand, the product (albeit the unconscious one) of man’s own activity, on the other hand it is the succession of those processes in which the forms taken by this activity and the relation of man to himself (to nature, to other men) are overthrown.19

The promise provided by such a theory of history is that by understanding the broader socio-economic conditions that drive history we can then collectively act to change history to better the condition of humanity, in the same way a scientist develops their understanding of natural laws through experimentation and uses this understanding to invent new techniques and technologies to transform nature to meet our needs.  The understanding of history utilized by the social historians was not simply an analytical tool but promised to humanity the potential for a better future. Events such as the French Revolution signaled the possibility of building a new society informed by a scientific yet partisan understanding of history.  

Zenith of French Glory by James Gillray

First Wave of Revisionism

French historians like Lefebvre and Soboul were able to establish the hegemony of the Marxist social interpretation in the academy in a world where the Cold War raged between the Eastern Bloc and NATO. Alongside this military struggle between global camps was an ideological struggle in the academy. Hence this period was one of intellectual works like Karl Popper’s The Open Society and Its Enemies, which linked the totalizing theory of history espoused by Marxists with totalitarian politics. To disprove Marxism was to weaken the intellectual credentials of Communism and weaken its hold amongst intellectuals. To dethrone the social interpretation from hegemony in the academy was, therefore, part of this ideological struggle. It is in this context that we must understand the attacks on the social interpretation of the French Revolution.   

The social interpretation would first be challenged by Anglo-American historian Alfred Cobban. Cobban’s book The Social Interpretation of the French Revolution (1964) is primarily an attack on the Marxist narrative of the revolution rather than a historical work that breaks any ground in research. His book was a rupture in the historiography of the revolution, breaking ground for what would be known as revisionism. Revisionism would eventually take the social interpretation’s place as the prevailing orthodoxy, but first, it would have to demolish the entire foundation that the social interpretation sat upon. This meant attacking the theoretical foundations of the social interpretation: Marxism. For Cobban, Marxism is essentially a religious ideology, because it aims to provide purpose and meaning to human existence. Yet he goes further than rejecting only Marxism, arguing that any kind of sociological theory cannot be mixed with history without providing results that are biased in favor of the given theory. In Cobban’s view, Marxism essentially blinded historians like Lefebvre and Soboul from the facts in front of their own eyes by forcing them into the confines of a particular sociological theory.20 This is similar to Karl Popper’s critique of Marxism as a totalizing worldview that forces facts into a grand historical schema instead of emphasizing skepticism and empiricism. Rather than understanding the French Revolution as an expression of broader historical patterns, Cobban embraced narrow Anglo-Saxon empiricism where the facts essentially spoke for themselves. By looking at the surface appearance of events without connecting them to the broader movement of history Cobban hoped to deal a major blow to the dominant Marxist-influenced interpretations. 

The theory of bourgeois revolution was the main target of Cobban’s attack. As noted earlier, the theory of bourgeois revolution placed the French Revolution in the context of the transition from feudalism to capitalism, with the revolution as a breaking point in that transition in which the bourgeoise established political dominance and destroyed the absolutist state that was a barrier to capitalist development. Cobban would take the opposite approach, claiming that the revolution was in fact against capitalism and ultimately blocked its development. In this interpretation, the mass revolts of the revolution were primarily against the coming of a newer capitalist order, rather than a revolt against the remnants of feudalism. There was instead a step backward rather than a step forward, with France still a primarily agrarian society after the revolution.21 One of the ways he makes this argument is by ironically drawing from Lefebvre’s own work, particularly his Études Orléanaises study. Using this study, Cobban would argue that the majority of grievances recorded were complaints aimed at the growing commercialization of the countryside rather than the old feudal order. Cited examples showed hatred of large farmers, peasants incapable of attaining ownership of plots having to sell themselves into wage-servitude, and resentment towards financiers.22 By drawing from Lefebvre’s work, Cobban aims to make a specific point: that it was not the facts themselves that Lefebvre got wrong, but that his adherence to the Marxist theory of bourgeois revolution caused him to force the facts into a theoretical schema that contradicted them. Another important argument found in The Social Interpretation of the French Revolution was that the revolution was not itself led by a bourgeoisie which engaged in either commercial wealth or employing waged labor but was rather composed mostly of professionals. Cobban used this to argue that class categories were simply not applicable to the revolution, as all the different groups were purely political and not connected to definable class interests.23

Cobban would also argue that whatever type of society existed in ancien régime France could not be described as feudalism. While not putting forward an alternative of how to categorize the social formation in France at the time, Cobban makes the point that seigniorial rights were alienable and were able to come into the possession of non-noble hands. Hence ownership of land and the ability to extract seigniorial dues was dissociated from the status of nobility.24 Colin Lucas’ article Nobles, Bourgeois and the Origins of the French Revolution (1973) would add to the arguments accumulating against the social interpretation, claiming that there was, in fact, no real difference between bourgeoisie and nobility in late eighteenth-century France. Instead, the two essentially formed a homogenous ruling class. In Lucas’ view, the bourgeoisie could not even be differentiated from the nobility by their investment patterns, which were primarily motivated by social status rather than the profit motive.25 For the historian William Doyle, who contributed to the revisionist interpretations with his 1980 book Origins of the French Revolution, the revisionist school had changed the parameters of the discussion, but it was still unclear how and why the revolution came about.26 What united the Anglo-American revisionist historians was primarily a negation of the existing orthodox historiography, rather than any positive alternative theory that sought to explain the objective causes of revolutionary events. Through a methodology of positivism that was in line with other Cold War attacks on Marxism, the beginnings of a revisionist school were formed.  

Furet and the New Revisionist Orthodoxy

François Furet would bring revisionism to Paris itself to do battle with the adherents of the still dominant social interpretation. The work of Furet coincided with a greater trend of anti-communism in the French intelligentsia, coinciding with the New Philosophers like Bernard-Henri Lévy. Like many of the New Philosophers, Furet was an ex-Communist who made no secret of his distaste for Marxism. His attacks on the social interpretation of the French Revolution were politically charged and portrayed the revolution as the beginning of ‘totalitarian’ regimes like Stalinist Russia and Nazi Germany, a sort of historical complement to philosophical arguments made by the New Philosophers. This rise of intellectual anti-communism coincided with the decline of the USSR as well as revelations of the horrors of Stalinism from Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago. The general mood of this intellectual conservatism can be summarized by Bernard-Henri Lévy’s statement that “We never will again remake the world, but at least we can stay on guard to see that it is not unmade.”27  Before Francis Fukuyama proclaimed the end of history, Parisian historians and philosophers were anxious to see that such a situation came about. Such developments would lead Perry Anderson to proclaim Paris as the “Capital of European Reaction.”28 

It was in this intellectual climate where Furet would negate the dominance of the social interpretation to create a new revisionist doctrine that would stand as the new prevailing orthodoxy, asserting that the revolution was not social and economic but purely political. In his book Interpreting the French Revolution Furet argued for placing an emphasis on subjectivity and ideology as opposed to objective social forces to explain the flow of revolutionary events. The degeneration of Bolshevism for Furet meant that a fresh perspective could be developed on the history of the revolution, where it was to be seen “not in terms of causes and consequence” but rather as the invention of a “new political discourse”. Rather than seeing history as a chain of cause and effect with events as a consequence of those prior, Furet saw history as essentially random, only given meaning by discourse.29 Furthermore, history was not a process based on an inevitable process of linear progress. In fact, it made no sense to talk of progress at all, only successive forms of domination and irregular explosions of rebellion. In this sense, Furet shared commonalities with another contemporary French philosopher, Michel Foucault. 

For inspiration Furet would look towards Alexis de Tocqueville and Augustin Cochin, constructing a historiographical tradition in opposition to that of the social historians. From Tocqueville, Furet took the idea that there was a continuity between the centralized absolutist state structure and the state that resulted from the revolution; the revolution was essentially an expression of a process of state centralization. This idea of continuity was seen as an antidote to the idea that the revolution was a radical break from the feudal to capitalist era, with the revolutionaries believing themselves to be ushering in an era of bourgeois liberty and economic progress. Furet also used Tocqueville to argue that proponents of the social interpretation and the theory of bourgeois revolution made the mistake of taking revolutionary leaders at their word, claiming there was a discrepancy between their objective historical role and their subjective perception of it.30

While Tocqueville stressed continuity, Augustin Cochin emphasized what Furet would call “the explosive character of the event” that was fueled by the internal dynamic of the revolutionary movement.31 Cochin was a Catholic traditionalist who wrote in the late nineteenth century and detested Jacobinism but obsessively sought to understand it. He interpreted it as a result of a growing “philosophical society” which came to political power to replace a collapsing system of corporate bodies. While the ancien régime state was based on corporate bodies which expressed particular interest groups, the “philosophical society” which came into power wished to create an order based on the general will of all individuals in society. These atomized individuals could form no general will according to Cochin, so the result was a centralization of power into the hands of the “philosophical society” which led a dictatorship in the name of a fictitious “people”.32 Furet takes from Cochin a focus on revolutionary ideology. The revolution ultimately formed an “ideocracy”, which in attempting to legitimate a new social order based on the sovereignty of the nation had to “compose a new society by excisions and exclusions…to designate and personalize the powers of evil”.33

From these authors, Furet created a synthesis that can be seen constituting the new revisionist orthodoxy. Whereas the Marxist-inspired social interpretation would focus on the objective social dynamics of class struggle that fueled the revolution, for Furet and many historians after him the subjective ideological discourse of revolutionaries was the main factor conditioning the outcome of events. A continuous process of state centralization that began with the ancien régime gave unprecedented state power to a small group of people, but there was also a radical break from the past in terms of political ideology. The socio-economic causes were of little importance for Furet, as the revolution was a purely political event.  To compare schools of historiography, the social historian Soboul viewed the Reign of Terror as a product of external and internal pressures of counter-revolution and the class struggles of the Sans-Culottes against grain speculation. Furet, on the other hand, argued that the terror flowed from the very political discourse of the revolution itself, which aimed to construct a “people’s will” through a unity based on the violent exclusion of the nobility. Furet’s ideas not only fell in line with a general pessimism about popular social change but also a general change in prevailing historical methodology with the rise of the “cultural turn” and post-structuralism.  

Under the guise of attacking teleology in Marxism, Furet instead created a new type of determinism, one based on the predominance of ideas rather than economics. If necessity and contingency exist as a dialectic for Marxist theory, for Furet the two exist in a crude opposition, with contingency being absolute. Rather than class struggle structured by relations and forces of production, the revolution flowed according to a linguistic discourse. Furet saw events like the storming of the Bastille and the Reign of Terror as random acts of spontaneity with no real basis in economic forces. Rather than an objective social force that structured history, class struggle was merely a linguistic discourse of revolutionaries applied to events that could take on a life of its own. By emphasizing discourse as a determinant, Furet was taking aim at philosophers who believed they could change the world by blaming their ideas on the violence of the revolution. And by emphasizing continuity with the old regime and dispelling the notion of bourgeois revolution, Furet was proclaiming that all of the violence of the revolution was unnecessary for the development of modernity. This is a philosophy of history devoid of possibility, which in the name of contingency against crude determinism actually consigns humanity to quietism, condemning any possibility of consciously understanding history and changing it for the better. 

Furet set the stage for a new orthodoxy to replace the old ways of the social interpretation. This was one that focused on culture rather than economics and class, avoiding any kind of teleology in favor of focusing on how people interpreted events. The “cultural turn” in history became the new norm and Marxism was more and more ‘discredited’ as the Soviet Union collapsed. A paradigm shift had occurred in history, but it was a kind of paradigm shift that would deny itself as progressive because it denies the notion of progress as too teleological. Authors focused on subjective public imagination instead of looking at any broader framework of determinism and causality. An example is author Lynn Hunt, whose Family Romance of the French Revolution utilized the work of Freud to look at how revolutionary writers visualized the absolutist order in terms of patriarchal authority, using familial metaphors to comprehend the revolt against the ancien régime as a revolt against the father.34 Another author who exemplified the cultural turn was Joan Landes, author of Visualizing the Nation. Landes focused on material culture to examine how gendered representations of bodies were used in popular artwork to link individuals to new identities of citizen and nation, with gendered imagery being used in a negative sense to delegitimize monarchy and define the enemy, as well as in a positive sense to define national values such as liberty, equality, nature, and truth. By personalizing the nation through gendered imagery, popular arts were able to create an emotional attachment to an abstract national identity.35 Furet’s focus on discourse and repudiation of objective economic causality opened the door for historians to focus instead on identity formation, subjectivity, and culture. There is no doubt interesting work done in this new paradigm. Yet something was lost in the desire to break down the old ways of social history: a sense that the revolution had a greater meaning than those subjectively given to it in the process of history and the struggle for human freedom. 

Canvas Print from 1795

Responding to Revisionism 

A full and sufficient response to revisionism is outside the bounds of this essay and would take up a project of wider scope. Yet to not address some of the arguments of the revisionists directly would be a simple appeal to negative ideological implications. Therefore in this section, a basic defense of the social history of the French Revolution will be asserted. This does not mean undertaking a defense of Lebevre’s and Soboul’s exact understanding of the French Revolution as a bourgeois revolutionit is unlikely that after decades of historical debate and inquiry, their interpretations wouldn’t need to be updated and refined. Instead, what is needed to adequately address the claims of revisionism is a defense of the social interpretation’s general understanding of the revolution as a class struggle, rooted in the class structure of French society, and also the category of bourgeois revolution and the applicability of this category to the French Revolution. To begin addressing these questions, we will need to look at the system of French absolutism and its class contradictions. 

The developmental path of French absolutism must be understood in comparison with England. In England, the crisis of feudalism in the fourteenth century led to the development of a middle peasantry who began to engage in small-scale capitalist farming. In response, enterprising landlords began a process of enclosure on common lands and took up large-scale capitalist farming, with peasants forced to either sell their labor or join this new class of agrarian capitalists.36 By the seventeenth century, capitalism was growing in the interstices of English society and the English revolution created a state fit for the rule of this capitalist class. By the end of the eighteenth century, England dominated Europe and set the pace of international competition. This process very much followed the ideal type of a bourgeois revolution, where a capitalist class grew inside a feudal framework and waged a revolutionary struggle to bring the state into harmony with the economy. 

France saw a divergent path of development. At the beginning of the fifteenth century, peasant communities were able to empower themselves to secure claims over common lands and heritability rights over tenures, enlarging their holdings by marketing surpluses. But just as this middle peasant class began to develop, they were squeezed out of existence by rising rents from landlords, who were slowly becoming impoverished and reasserted their seigneurial rights.37 While the French peasantry, unlike the English, were able to hold onto their traditional land rights, this meant they were in a position where landlords could use rent-squeezing to extract surplus. As a result, there was little incentive for both peasants and landlords to invest in improvements and engage in capitalist farming like they did in England. A peasantry now being squeezed of surplus revolted—for example, the Croquants rebellion in the late sixteenth/early seventeenth century, in which peasants appealed to the king to protect them from the unhindered exploitation of landlords.38 

It was from this dynamic of peasants appealing to the king for protection from seigneurial exploitation that the absolutist state developed. Preferring “royal authority to social anarchy”39 meant that lords were willing to tolerate the rise of the Bourbon monarchy as a lesser evil to outright destruction of the feudal order. Absolutism rose as a centralizing institution, providing peasants with a barrier to the harshest possible exploitation from local lords. Yet it also maintained the system of tributary domination, revamping it with a more consolidated and centralized state apparatus.40 The Crown needed to be able to tax the peasantry for income and therefore saw it in its interest to protect peasant property. Yet to fund this state apparatus it was necessary to tax the peasantry alongside the rents they paid to the nobility. To keep the nobility satisfied, the crown allowed a portion of the tax extracted to be shared with them through the selling of offices, which developed a massive bureaucracy to maintain their loyalty. While royal officials would often side with peasants in disputes, they nonetheless placed a burden upon the peasantry. Absolutism, regardless of its origins as a protector of the peasant, pushed the peasant down into poverty through taxation, preventing the emergence of a middle peasantry and therefore the development of endogenous capitalism.41 

From this portrayal of absolutist France, we can see that the critics of the social interpretation had a point: that the notion of an endogenous capitalist class developing within the feudal order, attaining class consciousness as a bourgeoisie, and throwing off the shackles of feudalism is not accurate. Because of the lack of a dynamic of class differentiation in the countryside, a bourgeois class did not form in France that was capable of uniting and leading a revolution according to its own class interests. Yet this should only discredit the notion of bourgeois revolution if we accept the most simplistic understanding of the concept, where a fully conscious bourgeoisie makes revolution and establishes capitalism, in a smooth and linear process. But what if we understand bourgeois revolution not just as an event, but also as a longer uneven process in history, one which contains simultaneous progress and setbacks? 

Regarding the lack of a coherent bourgeoisie in France before the revolution, it is important to point out that a bourgeois revolution need not be led by the bourgeoisie. This was pointed out by many Marxists, including Lenin and Trotsky, who saw the Russian bourgeoisie as too weak and conservative to wage a struggle against absolutism. Because the embryonic bourgeoisie in France was too tied to the absolutist order, it would fall to the popular classes under the leadership of professionals (Robespierre was a lawyer). In fact, neither Soboul nor Lefebvre argued that the commercial bourgeoisie spearheaded the revolution, even though they did tend to underplay how much the bourgeoisie was integrated into the absolutist order. A key part of the revolution, and the one that dealt the greatest blow to the old order, as pointed out by Lefebvre, was the revolt of the peasantry against seigneurial dues. Rather than a self-conscious bourgeois subject coming to power and proclaiming a fully formed capitalist system, bourgeois revolution is better understood as a process in which the old feudal order is negated through class struggle and a state order is established that provides the framework through which capitalism can develop.42 When it is the feudal ancien régime that stands as a barrier to the development of capitalism, then it is through the class struggle of the classes exploited by this order that these barriers are weakened. Because of the role of class struggle in this process, it makes no sense to speak of a “purely political” revolution as Furet does. 

The effect of the French Revolution on the development of capitalism was contradictory. The social historians tended to focus on the revolution as opening the way for capitalism, downplaying the ways by which it delayed capitalist development. On the other hand, revisionists like Cobban argued that the revolution was purely negative for the development of capitalism and perhaps set it back. The truth was that its relation to capitalist development was contradictory. The revolution’s blow to seigneurial tribute on the peasantry meant the removal of economic burdens on them, which allowed them to risk investing in greater specialization, paving the way for the development of polyculture.43 The privileges of nobles had been abolished and a republican form of rule was established, taking the state out of the hands of the church. A unified national market was formed, with feudal barriers to internal trade removed. Yet at the same time, the peasantry’s traditional land ownership rights were strengthened, preventing the dissolution of the peasant community into capitalist farmers and wage laborers.44 This was the key contradiction of the revolution: through the mobilization of the peasantry the old feudal order was weakened, yet this mobilization simultaneously strengthened the peasant and delayed the development of capitalism in France. 

While it could be argued that the strengthening of peasant land ownership makes it misleading to call the French Revolution bourgeois, this only makes sense if one sees history as a linear process without contradiction. It makes more sense to see the bourgeois revolution as a process, one for which the French Revolution was a particular breakthrough. Another way to look at it is by focusing on the degeneration of the revolution into Bonapartism. Because of the incoherence of the bourgeoisie in France, this class was incapable of ruling as a class. Neither was the proletariat, existing too only in an embryonic form, or the peasantry, incapable of forming their own institutions and thus representing themselves. Therefore, as Marx would later comment regarding the degeneration of the 1848 revolution, the peasantry had to be represented. The result was the regime of Napoleon, a representative who “must appear simultaneously as their master, as an authority over them…that protects them from the other classes and sends them rain and sunshine from above.”45 Rather than breaking through to the full rule of the bourgeoisie, the balance of classes in France led to the formation of what Marx would call Bonapartism, after its helmsman who stood as arbiter between the classes yet affirmed the state as a state for itself. This represented the maintenance of many of the revolution’s gains, but also a step back towards absolutism, eventually leading to a restoration of the monarchy. While this may complicate the social historians’ narrative of a clear-cut bourgeois revolution with no complications, it by no means entails abandoning their model of class analysis to capture these nuances.   

Revolutions are complex events, composed of contesting classes that bring their own interests into play, and these classes are themselves divided into various factions. It is often in the process of revolutions that classes develop their own ideologies and self-understanding, producing a political program to express their social interests. The French Revolution saw the creation of groundbreaking forms of bourgeois political rule even if it did not see the creation of the bourgeois economy in its ideal form. It saw the creation of a democratic-republic that was short-lived, yet set a standard for all revolutionary democrats to aim for. Popular movements that were groundbreaking in their radicalism formed and mobilized on a mass scale. Even if the rise of the bourgeoisie takes on central importance to the narrative, the French Revolution is not reducible to a bourgeois revolution alone. For example, the urban class struggles of Sans-Culottes, the radicalism of the Enragés, and Gracchus Babeuf’s Conspiracy of Equals point to a future socialist movement, suggesting a world beyond bourgeois right. Yet in the grand historical scheme, there is a class that ultimately wins out and benefits the most. In the case of the French Revolution, we can say that this class was the bourgeoisie. The revolution paved the way for the social and political ascension of this class, not just in France, but worldwide.

French educational card depicting the Jacobin Club

Conclusion

The revisionist turn cannot be separated from its deeper political implications, its aim to deemphasize the idea that history can be understood in terms of class struggle, or that history is even intelligible as something which contains progress; it posits instead that history is simply a series of power discourses, in which relations of domination are merely shifted in different ways. While the revisionists may have pointed out some flaws in the works of the social historians, these flaws are not sufficient enough to abandon an understanding of the French Revolution in terms of class conflict. Clearly, the complexity of the French Revolution means that we cannot simply view it in terms of a binary conflict, bourgeois versus feudal. Yet the alternative of revisionists is to simply make the revolution irrational, a sort of freak accident with no deeper causation in history. In this world, we can only understand the rioting of peasants and the conflicts between artisans and speculators as a sort of irrational mob violence inspired by ideology run amok and demagogic intellectuals, where instead there is class struggle undergirded by deeper class antagonisms. To the revisionist historian, these class struggles are just a pointless waste of human life without reason. The end results of the revolution are not to drive history forward, but merely to replace one set of rulers with another. There is neither progress nor regress, merely changing the culture and discourse of domination. This alternative understanding of the French Revolution was of great help to those who wished to see an end to revolutionary politics, and it is no surprise the most vocal exponent of it was Furet, and ex-Communist Cold Warrior like any other. If the French Revolution could be shown to have no relation to human progress, then there was no ground for revolution itself to have a potentially progressive role, unless it perhaps occurred in the most orderly way. It was a perfect historical reading of the past for the “end of history”. 

The response to the overturning of the social history of the French Revolution should not be to mindlessly cling to dogmas and dismiss the revisionist historians as bad actors. It would be a miracle if Lefebvre and Soboul got every detail of the French Revolution right, and there is no doubt that they could often follow a rigid Marxism. We must engage with the critics of Marxism and social history if we are to improve and ultimately fine-tune our own analysis. Yet even as a foil to contend with, revisionism is weak. As an alternative, the likes of Furet merely offer only confusion and cover for reactionary ideas. Historical studies that focus on revolutionary political culture may open new vistas of research, yet when unanchored by a materialist class analysis they are exercises in the hobbyistic study of antique aesthetics that tell us nothing about their greater meaning in history. Even if the idea of bourgeois revolution was completely discredited, it would be necessary to understand the French Revolution in terms of class struggle as a heroic episode in the narrative of human emancipation. It is this aspect of the social historians’ project that will always be relevant. The capitalist class today want us to see history as random events with no causality with no logic or sense of progress so that we resign any hope of becoming subjects of history that can change the world. The French Revolution is significant because it is exactly the opposite of resignation to the established flow of history as described by our rulers, a revolt against those hierarchies and dogmas said to be eternal in favor of a society based on the agency of humans. It is for this reason that the bourgeoisie hates Jacobinism rather than proclaiming it as part of their historical heritage. To quote Lenin: 

It is natural for the bourgeoisie to hate Jacobinism. It is natural for the petty bourgeoisie to dread it. The class-conscious workers and working people generally put their trust in the transfer of power to the revolutionary, oppressed class for that is the essence of Jacobinism, the only way out of the present crisis, and the only remedy for economic dislocation and the war.46

It no is surprise then that the historiography of the French Revolution has always been an ideological battle. The earliest disputes between the monarchists and republicans with a decaying aristocracy in the background foreshadowed the later debate between revisionists and social historians, debates that were informed by Cold War struggle between global camps of Soviet Communism and Western capitalism. Today, when our future history is uncertain, those who aim to struggle for a world beyond oppression and exploitation will also have to struggle over the meaning of the French Revolution.