MARX ON CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY; PROBLEMS OF TELEOLOGY AND HISTORY

by

P d e l i s Lekas

D i s s e r t a t i o n submitted in accordance with t h e r e g u l a t i o n s f o r t h e

degree of Doctor of Philosophy

King's College September

 MARX ON CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY: PROBLEMS OF TELEOLOGY AND HISTORY

by

Pdelis Lekas

Dissertation submitted in accordance with the regulations for the

degree of Doctor of Philosophy

'King's College September

Cambridge 1985
 \

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am immensely indebted to my supervisor Professor A. Giddens. It was

with his patient guidance and constant encouragement that I was able to
complete this dissertation and it is a pleasure to record my gratitude to
him.

I am grateful to Professor G.E.R. Lloyd for his informed advice on

classical society. For financial assistance during my research, I am
grateful to King's College, Cambridge, for a three-year External
Studentship; and to Mr and Mrs Hatzivassiliadis to whom I owe much more
besides.

I would also like to express my appreciation to Mr B. Milne for reading

the final draft and suggesting certain stylistic corrections; and to Mrs B.
Coe, Mrs J. Leverett and Ms S. Seal for the typing of the thesis.

Finally, my special thanks to Kiki Lekas for her patience and

continuous help.

The text of the thesis is less than 80,000 words. The dissertation is
the result of my own work and includes nothing which is the outcome of
work done in collaboration.
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page
INTRODUCTION 1

PART I

MARX'S THEORY OF HISTORY

PROLEGOMENA 7

AJ5KETCH OF MARX'S IMAGE OF HISTORY 8

THE PROBLEM OF TELEOLOGY 31

PART II

MARX ON CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY

PROLEGOMENA 5^

THE MARXIAN LITERATURE ON THE ANCIENT WORLD AND ITSJEMERGENCE 56

THE ANCIENT RELATIONS OF PRODUCTION 81

4.1 The Constitution of the Ancient Relations of Production 81
4.2 Expansionism and its Effects 97

THE DEVELOPMENT OF CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY 112

5.1 Slavery and Exchange 112
126
5.2 Classes and the Class Struggle
141
THE LIMITS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD -~.-~-e~_^_

PART III

CAPITALISM AND PRECAPITALISM

163
PROLEGOMENA
165
THE MARXIAN INCONSISTENCY
178
MATERIAL PRODUCTION
207
DEVELOPMENT

APPENDIX
ENGELS ON THE EMERGENCE OF THE ANCIENT WORLD 227

EIBLIOGRAPHY 25Z
To apply the ideas of the present time to distant ages, is the
most fruitful source of error. To those people who want to
modernise all the ancient ages, I shall say what the Egyptian
priests said to Solon, "0 Athenians, you are mere children".

Montesquieu
 INTRODUCTION

The present discussion is concerned with the question of inconsistency

in Marx's historical writings. It is true that, as a rule, the possibility
of discrepancies existing between Marx's general model of historical
development and his studies of particular historical societies is only
rarely raised; this is so because of the widespread but usually
unchallenged assertion that Marx's historical works "simply embody the
consistent imposition of a pre-conceived philosophy of history upon a
limited subject" [Krieger, 1953:381]. Given the fact, however, that the
consistency in Marx's writings cannot possibly be presumed in advance, one
has to set off from the premiss that his particular historical studies
should be seen as "independent compositions" and that "their relation to
the philosophy of history which lies behind them is a problem rather than
an assumption" [ibid:3823*;Oia=.that principle, the present study sets out to
investigate Marx's ideas on classical antiquity in the broader context of
his general theory of history. The object is to discover any discrepancies
that exist between the two and to explain these by developing the
analytical implications of Marx's notion of the radical discontinuity that
capitalist society establishes in historical determinations.

The dissertation is~compsed- oft three Parts and an Appendix. Part I

begins (with the presentation! of Marx's general mode of historical
causation which is reconstructed on the basis of the general programmatic
principles he lays down in his famous 1859 Preface to A Contribution to
the Critique of Political Economy. [1] This prepares the ground for the
critical analysis of the two main propositions of Marx's general theory of
history, namely the Base/Superstructure Model and the Dialectic of Forces
and Relations of Production, and of their implications. Thus, the
endogenous assumptions underlying the Marxian image of historical
development are discussed; the character and structure of the hierarchy of
historical types are examined; and the question of the intrusion of a

[1] Hereafter, 1859 Preface.

1
 (teleological methodologyJ in this universal historical model is raised.
Part II examines Marx's analysis of the historical problems of the
? .. -
* periodisatin, emergence, social structure and development of the Graeco-
Roman world. The pertinent questions raised in Part I are discussed in
relation to Marx's thoughts on classical antiquity and the divergencies
from the postulates of his overall historical model are identified. Part
III theorises the contradictions between what the professed abstract
scheme of history dictates and what the concrete observations on classical
antiquity entail. The areas of tension between the two are put into
context by focusing on the discontinuity that the advent of capitalism
brings into the play of history. Finally, the treatment by Engels of a
particular aspect of ancient history, namely the emergence of the
classical world, is.discussed separately in the Appendix because it is, in
many ways, germane to the issues raised in the main corpus of the
dissertation and because Engels is supposed to be developing Marx's
earlier thoughts on the subject.

As is evident, the organisation of the dissertation is thematic. This

accounts for the fact that its three principal constituent parts are not
of equal length, with Part II, which deals with the detailed exposition and
critical discussion of Marx's ideas on classical antiquity, being
disproportionately longer than the other two. The objective remains,
throughout, the analytical contrast of the Marxian abstract assertions on
the character and determination of historical development in general with
the concrete commentary Marx provides on the history of the classical
world. It is in this sense that the dissertation is defined as an
exegetical exercise in the problem of the internal consistency of Marx's
historical writings. The investigation of this problem is centred on the
proposition that Marx's attempt at drawing a uniform and universal mode of
historical causation is determinately conditioned by his perception of
the character of the 'last phase' of the historical process, namely
capitalist society. In other words, the discussion revolves around the
question of whether Marx's general theory of history is characterised by
the methodological application and projection onto the precapitalist past
of the principles thought to govern the capitalist telos, namely the
Base/Superstructure Model and the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production. The suggestion of the presence of a 'reversed teleology' in his

5
 general model arises from the fact that this very model is severely
weakened when Marx engages in the study of particular precapitalist
societies; for what the latter reveals is an affinity between the many
diverse precapitalist types that makes the discontinuity between
capitalism and its predecessors all the more problematic. And this is so,
because the acceptance, however indirect or implicit, of such a radical
discontinuity is fundamentally at variance with the presuppositions of a
uniform historical causation.

The particular relevance of the ancient world to the underlying theme

of the dissertation becomes progressively obvious in the course of the
discussion. Suffice for the moment to say that its choice is neither
accidental nor so much motivated by any specific antiquitarian interests.
Rather, the case of classical antiquity is particularly apt because of its
centrality in precapitalism. As the original progenitor of capitalist
society, the classical world is the precapitalist form which offers much
scope for the investigation of the problem of teleology. Furthermore, by
^-I-i^^dLrtue of its position in Western development, classical antiquity is the
ideal ground for the critical analysis of the europocentric elements in
Marx's thought; its -typification as the 'natural path humanity follows in
its exodus from primitiveness further enhances its relevance in this
respect. Also, because of its unique structural characteristics, ancient
society is one of the most difficult precapitalist types that an
analytical device of universal applicability, such as the
Base/Superstructure Model purports to be, is asked to tread and survive.
*~; ^Lastly, its history and the circumstances of its disintegration offer a
serious challenge to the theoretical adequacy of the developmental model
which is based on the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production.

These are, very roughly, the reasons that make the choice of Marx's
;
K,J " views" on classical antiquity as the background of analysis ideal for the
purposes of the present study. The exegetical character of the latter
cannot be overemphasised though; the dissertation remains, throughout, an
attempt to interpret Marx by means of Marx himself. This is why much
attention is paid to the scrupulous observance of the distinction between
exegesis and substance, because of the full appreciation of the danger of
falling into the trap of confusing the two. It is for this reason that

3
references to non-Marxian works are included strictly for the purposes of
illustrating, either by elaboration or by contrast, particular points made
or alluded to by Marx, or in order to understand more fully a particular
observation of his. This qualification does not pertain merely to
historical writings of non- or extra-Marxist scholarship, but also to the
views of Engels (hence the separate Appendix too) and of subsequent
Marxists, even when these happen to converge totally with those held by
Marx. This also explains the strict adherence to the terminological
practice of referring to the views directly attributed to Marx himself as
'Marxian', while reserving the adjective 'Marxist' for the ideas of
professed followers of Marx.

The danger of confusing exegesis with substance is not, however,

totally removed by the careful usage of terms and sources. This is so
because of certain intrinsic limitations that any such study, but
particularly the present one, unavoidably contains. The very need for
extra-Marxian references should be sufficient indication of the thin
demarcation line between the two. Marx's historical writings are, for the
most part, fragmented and disorganised and any attempt at their
reconstruction and coherent presentation inevitably has to have recourse
to non-Marxian sources. Another extremely important inherent difficulty
arises from the nature of Marx's historical work. For it is not only his
general theory of history that is constructed at a high level of
abstraction; his remarks on classical antiquity, and on precapitalist
societies in general, also refer to vast time-scales. They take place at
the level of what Braudel would describe as the 'long-term' in history for
they are enquiries into very large sections of the past, intended to
encapsulate the principal characteristics of its main phases. [2] This not
only makes the distinction between 'general' and 'particular', or 'abstract'

[2] On this intended abstract-theoretical understanding of historical

reality, see the point by Engels: "History moves often in leaps and
bounds and in a zigzag line, and as this would have to be followed
throughout, it would mean not only that a considerable amount of
material of slight importance would have to be included, but also
that the train of thought would frequently have to be interrupted ...
The logical method of approach was therefore the only suitable one.
This, however, is indeed nothing but the historical method, only
stripped of the historical form and diverting chance occurrences"
[1859 Review;2253.
H
and 'concrete' in Marx rather relative; it also calls for reference to
historiography so as to fill in several lacunae in his historical analyses
and thereby render them greater intelligibility and coherence.

Naturally, special effort is made in order not to substitute such

references as are necessary for what Marx actually says on the various
historical forms he examines and on classical antiquity in particular. It
would, of course, be only a platitude to say that Marx's analysis of the
latter appears wanting on many scores, and especially in view of
contemporary historical research; but to stress its -inadequacy, in that
respect, would be both anachronistic and uninformed because Marx never
thought of posing as a classical historian. Furthermore, this is not a
question that concerns us here for what an exegetical study such as the
present one is concerned with is the scope that Marx's ideas on classical
antiquity offers us for the understanding and critical appraisal of his
approach to historical problems. Being an exercise in exegesis, however,
the present discussion cannot but concentrate on what it considers
relevant to its particular topic; consequently, it is based on the
dissection of Marx's historical ideas but not on the indiscriminate
inclusion of all his writings. Given the titanic volume and scope of Marx's
life work, a certain degree of selective (but not eclectic) reading is not
only unavoidable but essential. What is more, the particular theme of the
present study makes it even more susceptible to challenges by means of
direct quotations from Marx. This, strange as it may sound, is not
necessarily a weakness; for, being concerned with the interpretation and
theorisation of the inconsistencies in Marx's historical work, it is only
natural that some of its conclusions and inferences can be 'contradicted'
by recourse to Marx. Yet the word 'contradicted' should here by put in
inverted commas for the object of the present discussion is the very
contradictory nature of much of Marx's historical statements.

Three last points about the text are in order. Firstly, references to
Marx and Engels are made by the titles of their works, while all other
references are indicated by the author's name and year of publication of
the work concerned; this distinction is also reflected in the Bibliography
which lists Marx's and Engels' works separately. Secondly, emphases in
quotations are all in the original, unless otherwise indicated. And,

5
 PART I

MARX'S THEORY OF HISTORY

thirdly, the text follows, for the purpose of intelligibility, Marx's
unfortunate practice of speaking of the individual, the producer, the
citizen, the slave, the wage-labourer, the capitalist, etc., as a 'he rather
than a 'he/she', and of referring to 'man' or 'men* rather than to 'person' or
'persons'.

6
 PROLEGOMENA

It has been common practice to try to accommodate anomalous instances

in Marx's writings by enlarging, diluting or qualifying the hard core of
his general model of historical development. It appears, though, that
similar attempts rest on a fundamentally fallacious assumption, namely the
unfounded presupposition that an internal consistency should, always and
necessarily, obtain throughout Marx's work. The present study, however,
proposes to start from the exactly opposite premiss, namely that the
disparity between a general statement and a particular observation is not
an impossibility in Marx. Instead, then, of trying to 'normalise' the
original general model so as to suit particular discrepancies, or to
ignore the latter so as to faithfully preserve the orthodoxy of the
former, the two are herein counterposed. and compared in the context of
their juxtaposition. ~~~~^:?aB?z"

Part I is an attempt to reconstruct and, then, critically analyse Marx's

general statements bearing on the universality of the determination of
historical development. This is not as clear-cut a task as it may at first
appear. The major difficulty arises from the nature of the Marxian
literature itself. With the exception of the brief exposition of uniform
principles of historical causality in his 1859 Preface, it is only to
incidental remarks, scattered throughout his work, that the search for a
minimal sketch of Marx's general theory of history can be directed. In the
latter's reconstruction and interpretation, therefore, these statements
are assembled and organised on the basis of the 1859 Preface. The
objective is to discern and bring out a uniform historical model in as
coherent and rigorous a form ~ as possible; terminological or other
ambiguities will accordingly have to be pointed out and their most likely
contextual meaning be inferred.

7
 1. A SKETCH OF MARX'S IMAGE OF HISTORY

Marx maintains, in the 1859 Preface, that "The mode of production of the
material life conditions the social, political and intellectual life
process ingenerai" [op.cit.:181 ]. And, also, that:

The sum total of these relations of production constitutes the

economic structure of society, the real foundation, on which
rises a legal and political superstructure and to which
correspond definite forms of social consciousness [ibid].

According to this formulation, conventionally known as the

Base/Superstructure Model (or Metaphor), the totality of relations in a
particular society is broken down into different sets, which are ranked
according to an invariant hierarchical order. Relations of production or
economic relations are seen as furnishing the constitutive basis upon
which all other (superstructural or non-economic) relations rise and
f
rest. [1] |They form the economic infrastructure of society, on which
political, legal and ideological structures depend, by which the latter
are "conditioned" or "determined", [2] and to which they can be
analytically reduced.)[3]( Since, then, it is the economic structure of
society that is suggested as the basis determining all those other aspects
of social life, the search for the principle that is thought to propel
society forward 3hould accordingly focus on it^)

Relations of production bind together persons and forces of production

into a mode of production. Before we proceed to the discussion of the

[1] Also: "[Men's -PL] material relations are the basis of all their
relations" [Marx to Annenkov:31 ].
[2] On the terminological ambiguity of the verb bedingt in the original
German, and its vicissitudes in English translations (either as
"condition" or as "determine"), see Rader [1979:1 5-6],
[33 Cf., also, Engels's formulation, according to which "the economic
structure of society always furnishes the real basis, starting from
which we can alone work out the ultimate explanation of the whole
superstructure of juridical and political institutions as well as of
the religious, philosophical, and other ideas of a given historical
period" [Anti-Dhring:37J.
8
 nature of their combination, it is firstly necessary to clarify the
respective contents of the specifically Marxian concepts, namely forces,
relations and mode of production.

e> V 3 ^ The concept of the forces of production [Produktivkrfte or

V0/\ pr.oHiiktlonspotenz] refers to those elements in social life that ' are
directly involved in the process of material production, i.e. all those
;
- "? conditions necessary for and facilities employed in production by a
fr^BSS^*???
producing person. These include, firstly, the subjective condition of
production, i.e. "purposeful activity, that is work itself"; and, secondly,
the objective conditions which involve "the object on which that work is
performed" and "the instruments of that work" [Capital 1:284].

The objective conditions of production or "means of production"

: [Produktionsmittel] are thus divided into two categories. First, the
instruments of labour [Arbeitsmittel or Arbeitsinstrumente], denoting
those objects that enable producers to work with; [4] and, second, the
object^Of labour [Arbeitsgegenstand] which includes those elements that
are purposefully transformed by labour into products. Instruments of
labour are, therefore, distinguished from the object of labour by their
respective roles during the application of productive activity; thus,
although instruments of labour may themselves undergo some transformation
in the production process (through wear and tear for example), it is not
the aim of production to change them but only the object of labour. The
latter ^includes, on- the one hand, any object taken up in its original
naturaliforra-and, on the other, raw materials [Rohmaterial], i.e. any object
of labour which "has already been filtered through labour, which is itself
already a product of labour" [ibid:287].

^X, l T n e subjective condition of the process of production is provided by

the_^application of purposeful labour-power [Arbeitskraft] or labour-
capacity [Arbeitsvermgen] which includes the employment of all
productive faculties of producers, such as their skill, productive

[4] Instruments of labour may also include auxiliary substances

[Hilfsstoffe], such as fuel, chemicals or other accessories needed in
production, and, in some cases, even the space in which productive
activity takes place, such as buildings and workshops [cf. Capital
1:311]
9
knowledge, physical strength, etc. [5] It is important to stress the
intentional character of labour-power, for it is precisely the conscious
combination of all the mental and physical capabilities of humans for the
purpose of production that distinguish it from the mere undeliberate
exertion of power in the animal world. As Marx characteristically puts it,
"what distinguishes the worst architect from the best of bees is that the
architect builds the cell in his mind before he constructs it in wax"
[ibid:28M]. [6]}

Forces of production are brought together with producers by relations

of production [ Produkt ionsverh'ltnisse], which provide the framework
within which production is carried on. Production relations bind together
the forces of production and the producing agent by regulating the mode of
control the latter exercise over the former. They determine the extent to
which the immediate producers have access to the means of production, the
manner in which the production process is regulated, the allocation of
roles of control or subjugation, and the manner in which the end-result of
the production process, i.e. the product, is appropriated. [7] Relations of
production furnish, therefore, the framework within which the use and
control of the means of production and of the social product, as well as

[5] Labour-power is defined as "the aggregate of those mental and

physical capabilities existing in the physical form, the living
personality, of a human being, capabilities which he sets in motion
whenever he produces a use-valve of any kind" [Capital 1:270].
[6] Accordingly, products, the results of production, cannot be
understood but as the result of the conscious employment of labour-
power: "Nature builds no machines, no locomotives, railways, electric
telegraphs, self-acting mules etc. These are products of human
industry; natural material transformed into organs of the human will
over nature, or of human participation in nature. They are organs of
the human brain, created by the human hand; the power of knowledge,
objectified" [Grundris3e:706].
[7] There is some disagreement over what relations of productionn
involve exactly and what they exclude according to Marx's spirit. All
commentators agre,fcha_tpno.dut,ipn..relations are _primarily .relations
of ownership (not in the legal sense but in terms of effective
possession J~ arid control J Z~9L., Mil".' JMJ^JHL f*""production and of
appropriation rights over the product. But they disagree over the
extension of the concept to include also the regulation of the
production^ procs s itself, i.e. of the division of labour in the
strict"senser within the workshop. Thus, for example, Shaw [1978:Ch.1]
includes 'work relations' in the broader context of production
relations, while Cohen [1978:Ch.2] leaves the former outside the
latter.
10
 the division of social labour between various productive and non-
productive activities, are determined.

Productive forces and production relations are combined into a mode of

production Produktionsweise], The concept is employed rather loosely by
Marx in different contexts. For instance, it is not uncommon for it to be
used in order to denote the physical manner in which production
proceeds. [8] Much more closely to the meaning of the relations of
production that are interwoven into it, however, the concept of the mode of
production usually signifies the social character of production in a
particular society, namely its purpose, the mode of exploitation of the
direct producer, the form that the surplus product assumes, etc. This
latter use of the concept is closer to the social properties Marx
attributes to production which, for him, is first and foremost a social
>ff activity._[9] It is therefore in this second, broader, sense that the
production relations dominant in a particular mode - of production
characterise its nature (and, by extension, the nature of the social
organisation determined by it) and differentiate it from other modes.

It is at this point that we need to digress in order to clarify the

content and scope of the concept of mode of production. As mentioned, what
is designated by it is a determinate-way or manner in which material goods
are produced. Yet, as a concept, a mode of production is itself an abstract
object and, consequently, it cannot be said to exist "in the strong sense
in reality" [Poulantzas, 1973:15]. What do exist, though, are concrete-
societies or 'social formations', that is, social wholes at given moments
in time. And what the concept of the mode of production is intended for is

[8] In Capital I;Ch.13, for example, the concept of mode of production is

understood as the 'technique' of production and is employed in this
rather narrow sense in order to make the point that the physical and
technical aspects of production hardly changed in the passage from
late feudalism to the initial stage of capitalism: "With regard to
the mode of production itself, manufacture [Manufaktur] can hardly be
distinguished, in its earliest stages, from the handicraft trades
[Handwerksindustrie] of the guilds ..." [op.cit.:l39].
[9] "Production by an isolated individual outside society ... is as much
of an absurdity as is the development of language without individuals
living together and talking to each other" [Grundrisse;8*Q. The
implications of the social dimension of production are discussed
extensively in Ch. 8.

11
to provide the essential conceptual means for the analysis of real
societies, i.e. of concrete social formations.

Although basic to his writings, the distinction between mode of

production and social formation does not come sharply to the surface in
Marx's work nor is his usage of its terms entirely consistent. It is
essential, however, that we pursue further their definition by reference
to their contextual meaning and with the help of subsequent Marxist
exegeses on the matter. It should, then, first of all be understood that
Marx's historical investigations took place at a high level of
abstraction; not only his overall theorjetical___3ynthesis in the 1859
Preface and elsewhere, but, also, his more specific historical writings as
well as his detailed analysis of capitalism dealt with very large
historical entities. In them the concept of mode of production was
intended as the theoretical representation of certain essential features
abstracted from a given series of societies, of concrete social
formations, which, in spite of their motley diversity of form, were seen as
being held in common by precisely their dominant manner of production.
Thus, although abstract, the concept of mode of production is not
arbitrary; it is constructed abstractly for the purpose of understanding
specific empirical realities. Marx himself emphasised the abstract level.
at which he operated by pointing out that in the theoretical analysis in
which he was engaged it was

usually always assumed that the actual conditions correspond to

their conception, or, what is the same, that actual conditions
are represented only to the extent that they are typical of
their own general case ECapital 111:1 43].

Accordingly, in his study of capitalism, for instance, he bore in mind this

intrinsic limitation of his analysis; as he characteristically puts it,
"in theory it is assumed that the laws of capitalist production operate in
their pure form [but -PL] in reality there exists only approximation"
Cibid:175].

The concept of mode of production was not, therefore, intended as an

all-encompassing representation of every aspect of production of a
particular society; if that had been the case, Marx would have found
himself in the inextricable position of having to 'pigeon-hole', so to

12
 apeak, every historical society into a mode of production. But it seems
that modes of production represented and were used as heuristic devices
through which Marx could approach the complex phenomena of empirical
social life in a series of successive approximations. In their capacity as
non-arbitrary concepts, then, modes of production can be correctly
characterised as "determinate abstractions" [Colletti, 1972:8],
constructed with a view to the analysis of concrete social formations.

It is in thi3 vein that the distinction between mode of production and

social formation becomes essential for the understanding of Marx's
historical investigations. For what the distinction entails is the central
notion that a given social formation is a complex unity in which several
'pure modes of production may be identified in a mixed state of co
existence, side by side and intertwined with one another. Yet, what comes
to characterise a society is the preponderance in it of a particular mode
of production over the others; a_fact that^ allows for the possibil-i-fey that
two or more different societies may share the same dominant mode .of^
production. Thus, for instance, Marx talks of "modern capitalist society",
whether in England, Holland or France, as "the form of society in which the
capitalist mode olTproduction predominates" [Theories of Surplus-Value
1^:^09], for it is this mode that comes to overshadow all others and to
render the society in question its particular character. A social
formation consists, therefore, of an articulation of different modes of
production under the dominance of one of them: -,-

In all forms of society there is one specific kind of production

which~predominates over the rest, whose relations assign rank
and influence to the others. It is a general illumination which
"bathes all the other colours and modifies their jparticularity.
It is a particular ether which determines the specific gravity
of ey_ery bejLng which has materialized in it
[Grundrisse: 107]. [10]

[10] The dominant mode of production may, of course, have intrinsically

expansive tendencies, as is the case with the capitalist mode, and,
consequently, the 'approximation' between it and the society it
dominates tends to become progressively closer: "this approximation
is the greater, the more developed the capitalist mode of production
and the less it is adulterated and amalgamated with survivals of
former economic conditions" [Capital 111:175]. For this point, cf.,
also, ch.9.
13
 The distinction between mode of production and social formation and the
criterion of the relative dominance of the former within the latter is
extremely important for the understanding of Marx's ideas on classical
antiquity, as we shall see in Ch.5, in relation to the gradual transition
of ancient society to one dominated by the slave mode of production.
Suffice to mention here, by way of explicating this point, that Marx speaks
\^'.% of "slave society", not because it is only slaves that produce in it, but
>-J> because slave labour has come to be the "dominaiit--form of productive
labour" [Capital 11:555] and because the master/slave relation is
constituted as the preponderant relation of production. On the other hand,
however, the distinction is not free of difficulties; these stem mainly
from the looseness in the employment of the terms mode of production and
social formation by Marx. The two are often used interchangeably, so that
it is not uncommon, for instance, for Marx to speak of "changes in the mode
d\^ of production" [cf., e.g., Capital 111:33^,318-93. Yet, strictly speaking, a
y *
e
. mode of production cannot be the proper subject of change; it is only

societies that undergo transformations, in the sense that their dominant

modes of production come to be supplanted by others. Thus, when Marx speaks
of changes, say, in the capitalist or ancient modes of production while
examining specific historical societies (e.g. nineteenth-century
capitalist England or classical Greece and Rome,respectively), this
should be understood as "convenient shorthand" [Ruben, 1982:43] for
changes befalling these particular societies which happen to be typical or
representative of their type in that they exemplify, in great
approximation or in a comparatively unalloyed form, the properties of the
modes of production dominant in them. What should be borne in mind in
similar cases, however, is that such loose talk must not give rise to the
notion of ontologically irreducible capitalism or classical antiquity as
modes of production.

t' ,^, Social forms are thus distinguished from each other by the particular
KJ v. g. mode of production dominant in them. And modes of production are in turn
W r-
* \* ^_ differentiated by their determinate relations of production] It should be
pointed out, however, that, although the principle for the differentiation
of modes of production is generally provided by the nature of the
production relations characteristic of each one of them, it is not always
the same aspect of those relations that serves as the operative criterion
14
 for such a differentiation to take place. There are instances, for example,
in which Marx opts for the manner of appropriation of the surplus product
and tJie^^orr^sjicjiding-XDrm^ of surplus labour as the
guiding principle of d^fjrentiation:

^?> ^ J What distinguishes the various economic formations of society -

( - J i
' %.' the distinction between for example a society based on slave
\ vpt* \ * /if | labour and a society based on wage-labour - is the form in which
: :p^.^(A S I surplus labour is in each case extorted from the immediate
V' *' (p tf Jxi'J{ producer, the worker [Capital 1:325; cf. also Capital 111:791 ].
In other cases, though, the focus is on the way in which production
relations of a particular mode bind producers and means of production
together:

The particular form and mode in which this connection [i.e.

between producers and means of production -PL] is effected is
what distinguishes the various economic epochs of the social
structure [Capital 11:120].

This relative shift of emphasis, however, is not"inconsistent, since the

former principle is but a derivative of th" latter. And in both cases,
whether, in other words, it is the nature of the dominant production
relations (i.e. the manner in which producers and means of production are
connected) or the basis and ultimate effect of those relations (i.e. the
mode of extraction of surplus labour and the manner of appropriation of
the product) that is taken as the [differentiating principle,_^the same
thing is emphasised; namely, the fact that-^the modes of production
described by Marx always imply that production relations effect anjimegual
division of society. Relations of production designate, in other words, the
various forms under which the exploitation of one section of society by
the other takes place. They are the terms of antagonistic associations
between producers and non-producers - "antagonistic not in the sense of
individual antagonism, but of one arising from-the social conditions of
life of the individuals" [1859 Preface:l82]. We shallj^eturn in greater
detail to the theme oJT__aac-laJL antagonisms in Marx's scheme and the

representation ofantagonistic relations of production by ^opposing

classes later on. \

For the moment, though, let us first go back to the constitution of the
mode of production. As we have seen, the latter is composed by the

15
 articulated combination of forces and relations of production. This
statement alone, however, does not convey much about the dynamism of their
relationship. What is, then, that necessitates the transition from one mode
of production to another, that accounts for the transformation, in other
words, of a society from one dominated by one mode to another in which a
different one is prevalent? How does Marx explain the change from one
economic structure, one set of production relations, to the next and, by
extension, since iLs,~tiie~-economic structure that forms the basis of]'*
every society, the historical development.of. social_ fOrms?

The answer to these questions is sought in the nature of the

combination, in a particular mode, of forces and relations of production.
For, embedded in their very conception, is the notion that at a certain
point the two are counterposed as antithetical principles. This conflict
[Konflikt] or contradiction [Widersprche] that develops between the
forces and relations of production is what provides the stimulus for
change; it is precisely this principle of antithesis, or "canonical
formula" of Marxism [Young, 1976:196], that lies behind the explanation of
the eventual supersession of a given set of production relations by a new
one and the consequent establishment of a new mode of production and, by
<y extension, of a novel form of social organisation. Change is, then,
* 'f ;v'''conceived of as ruptural in character, the result of a state of the mutual
^J /1 negation of and^clash between __ incompat ible . [ Uny er tragi i e.h.] . forces^ and
V relations of producj^ru. But what brings about such a state of
incompatibility? The answer is provided by the assertion that the
~--> productive forces have a built-in tendency to grow throughout history; the
forces of production are thought to possess an inherent developmental
capability which brings them inevitably into conflict with existing
production relations. There then comes a point when the growth achieved by
the productive forces can no longer be contained within the existing
framework of production relations and a rupture ensues:

ST At a certainj3tage of their development, the material productive

/ forces of society come in conflict with the existing relations
of production ... From forms of development of the productive
forces these relations turn into their fetters. Then begins an
epoch of social revolution. With the change of the economic
foundation the entire immense superstructure is more or less

16
 rapidly transformed [1859 Prefaced 81 -2]. [11]

Thu3 the propellent of historical development lies in the contradiction

between the eternal tendency of the forces of production to grow and the
A^ temporary preclusion of that growth by outmoded relations of production.

V^ ^ Before we proceed to the discussion of the manner in which the

v ^ C o S resolution of that contradiction is effected, let us dwell for a moment on
ogr ^ VK //""
^ t n e problem of{ /-*^\ the 'growth' of productive forces actually involves.
what]
r \J v-_/ - - - -
V/ The formulation is not always clear in Marx, nor i s i t s use entirely
consistent. [12] Growth or development of the forces of production may
thus be taken to mean increases in the physical sizejand(complexityJpf the
scale of productirc*ftr~~Pthe expanding accumulation of productively
applicablejmchnical knowledge;j>r, more often, it stands for increases in
the (productivity^^ "lBour, i.e. a growth in the overall productive
e^ficienc"y"o'f society^ The latter meaning is more preferable not only
becaus'e~it Is enountered in Marx's writings more frequently, [13] but
also because it presupposes, to a large extent, the other two meanings;
^/'Increases in productive efficiency require a certain accumulation of
f - :

i technical knowledge and skill as well as a developed degree of complexity

V in the physical scale of production.

To return to the 'canonical formula* of historical development. The

contradiction that eventually necessitates a ruptural change and the
replacement of the old mode of production is caused, as we have seen, by
the growth-tendency which Is intrinsic to the productive forces. But the
outcome of the conflict between relations and forces of production which,

[11] What is noteworthy in the description of the mode of historical

development in the 1859 Preface is the absence of references to class
divisions in^society (apart, that is, from the broad mention of
"antagonistic" forms of production) and the role of classes in the
ruptural moment of change. An explanation of this omission is offered
by Printz [1969] who, after examing the historical setting of the
publication of the 1859 Preface, argues that it may well have been
Marx's concern to elude German censorship that compelled him to avoid
direct mention of classes and the class struggle.
[12] For a brief compendium of the vicissitudes of the idea of productive
growth, see Young [1976:198-9n].
[13] "what else does growing productive power of labour mean than that
less immediate labour required to create a greater product ...?"
[Grundrisse:831 ].
17
 consequently, determines the character of the jnew mode of Pgoductiqn and
(form of social organisation,] is not the product of uncoordinated factors
or_ao.n.t-ingen-t-ijiterventions of the moment. Rather, it is itself determined
by the degree^pf the growth that has been achieved by the forces of
pro3ifction. The growth of the latter is not therefore merely responsible
for bringing about the opposition between the forces of production and the
set of production relations within which that growth occurs; it is also
l^primarily responsible for the final conclusion of their conflict, since it
is in favour of the productive forces that the contradiction is ultimately
resolved.

These, then, are the general outlines of Marx's historical schema,

usually known as the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of ^Production. In
it, the two-fold character of the determination of change by the forces of
production is brought about by G. Cohen's [1978:163f] analytical
distinction between two interwoven theses. Firstly, a Development Thesis
which ascribes a developmental tendency to the productive forces as
expressed in their inherent capacity to grow throughout time; and,
secondly, a Primacy Thesis which denotes the mode of determination of the
contradiction between relations and forces of production in favour of the
---* latter.

There exists ample textual support for the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production in Marx's general pronouncements on historical
development. Thus, as early as 1845-6, it is the forces that_are taken to
determine the result of the contradiction between them and production
relations:

in the place of an earlier form of intercourse, [14] which has

become a fetter, a new one is put, corresponding to the more
developed productive forces, and, hence, to the advanced mode of
self-activity of individuals - a form which in its turn becomes
a fetter and is then replaced by another [German Ideology:70].

And, at roughly the same period in his career, Marx reasserts both the
independent developmental tendency of the forces of production and their

[14] Here "form of intercourse" [Vekehrsform] is the precursor of the

concept of relations of production which first appears a year later
[1846-7] in The Poverty of Philosophy [cf. Therborn, 1976:368f].
18
determinate role in their conflict with obsolete production relations:

as men develop their productive forces, ..., they develop certain

relations with one another and ... the nature of these relations
is bound to change with the change and growth of these
productive forces [Marx to Annenkov:3^3.

And also:

With the acquisition of new productive forces, men change their

mode of production and with the mode of production all the
economic relations Which are merely the relations appropriate
to a particular mode of production [ibid:31 ].

The same theme is repeated almost verbatim in The Poverty of Philosophy,

where the determinancy of the productive forces is asserted in strong
technicist terms:

In acquiring new productive forces men change their mode of

production; and in changing their mode of production, ..., they
change all their social relations. The hand-mill gives you
society with the feudal lord; the steam-mill with the industrial
."E-i.*,.,.
capitalist [op.cit.:1093.

In Wage Labour and Capital the same principle is explicitly reiterated:

The social relations within which individuals produce, the

social relations of production, change, are transformed with the
change and development of the material means of production, the
productive forces [op.cit.:80].

In the Manifesto of the Communist Party [15] the DialecticTofForces and

Relations of Production is applied in the explanation of-the historical
transformation of society from the feudal to the capitalist stage:

At a certain stage in the development of these means of

production and of exchange, ..., the feudal relations of property
became no longer compatible with the already developed
productive forces; they became so many fetters.rThey had to be
burst asunder; they were burst asunder [op.cit.:MO]. [16]

[15] Hereafter Communist Manifesto.

[16] As in the quotations from The Poverty of Philosophy and Wage Labour
and Capital (supra), here too the concept of productive forces is
considerably narrow including only the means of production or even
the technical instruments of production alone.
15
And in the Grundrisse the fundamental contradiction of capitalist
production is placed into the wider context of the general determination
of historical change:

Beyond a certain point, the development of the powers of

production becomes a barrier for capital; hence the capital
relation a barrier for the development of the productive powers
of labour. When it has reached this point, capital, i.e. wage
labour, enters into the same relation towards the development of
social wealth and of the forces of production as the guild
system, serfdom, slavery, and is necessarily stripped off as a
fetter [op.cit.:749].

The formulation of the idea that it is the relations of production that

have to give way, as it were, and be transformed as a result of changes in
the productive forces recurs in the most succinct Marxian statement on the
nature of historical development:

Jin the social production of their life, men enter into definite
/relations that are indispensable and independent of their will,
J relations of production which correspond to a definite stage of
/ development of their material productive forces [1859
I Preface:! 81 ]. [17]

Once the ascendancy of forces over relations of production is

established, the developmental pattern of history based on the Dialectic
of Forces and Relations of Production begins to emerge. The momentum of
historical development is provided by the alternating states of
incompatibility and correspondence of the relations and forces of
production. The initial harmony between them is disrupted by the incessant
expansion of the productive capacities of society. This increasing
antithesis between developed forces and obsolete relations that can no

[17] The use of the verb "correspond" [Entsprechen] requires some

attention. Taken literally and out of the context in which it is
encountered, it does not necessarily ascribe a dominant role to one
of the two terms of the 'correspondence*. Taken in context, however,
and in the light of the previous excerpts from Marx, there is little
doubt that such a 'symmetrical' interpretation of the correspondence
between forces and relations of production would be mistaken [cf.
Cohen, 1978:136-8]. Far from implying a mutual determination between
forces and relations, their correspondence connotes the inferior
character of the latter which have to be transformed, so that they
could conform (i.e. 'correspond') to the requirements of the
productive forces that have, so to speak, outgrown them.

20
longer contain productive growth results inevitably in a ruptural
break [18] which is invariably decided in favour of the productive forces.
The latter acquire a new set of relations appropriate to their development
and a new equilibrium is established on a higher level, only to be itself
eventually disturbed. -'

/viewed as a whole, then, Marx's model of historical development may be

said to be governed by a double chain of determinisms./Firstlyy the growth
of the productive forces determines the character, duration and eventual
transformation of the relations of production and of the economic
structure of society. And, isecondly,,/ since "every form of production
creates its own legal relations, form of government, etc." [Grundrisse:88],
it follows that a change in the economic base of society should sooner or
later require an appropriate and 'corresponding* adjustment in its
sup_ers,trjiture. The development of the forces of production may therefore
be seen as indirectly controlling all aspects of social transformation.
Productive forces select, so to speak, those economic structures that
~ * -"
provide maximum scope for- -tha^f urtherance of their growth; and the
production relations that obtain because their framework allows or
promotes productive growth bear, in turn, on the multitude of non-economic
relations that are supported by theta. Marx expresses this "productive-
force determinism' [Shaw, 1978:60] in the following sequence: ,

Assume a particular level of development of men's productive

forces and you will- get-^a^jparticular form of commerce and
consumption. Assume particular stages of development in
production, commerce and consumption and you will have a
corresponding social system, a corresponding organisation of
the family, of social .estates or of classes, in a word a
corresponding civil society. Assume such a civil society and you
will get a political system appropriate to it, a system which is
J only the official expression of civil society [Marx to
/__Annenkov:30],

And, more succinctly:

[18] "The contradiction between the productive forces and the form of
intercourse, which, as we saw, has occurred several times in past
history, ..., necessarily on each occasion burst out in a revolution";
and, inversely, "all collisions in history have their origin, ..., in
the contradiction between the productive forces and the form of
intercourse" [German ideology:62]. I .
21
 the (economic) relayons and; consequently the social, moral and
political state of nations change^ with the, .change in the
material--powers of. , product!QA^.w.X.Theories of Surplus-Value
111:^30].

It is clear, then, that the mode of causation that is" applied to

historical development is ultimately referred to the productive forces of
society. It is they that determine, by their level of growth, the changes
that occur in the economic structure and thereby in soSTty~"at large.
Relations of production last so long as they promote or at least do not
inhibit the development of the productive forces; and, inversely, they
collapse when they cease to facilitate the. expansive needs of the
productive forces. The presence of a__ 'functional' logic behind the
conception of productiva-fQrs, determinism .thus.becomes transparent. [19]
The character of a particular set of production relations (and, in
consequence, of the superstructural edifice errected upon them) is
determined by the contribution they render to the growth of the forces of
production. Their duration depends on their relative functionality to the
exigencies of this developmental drive; as soon as the advances in
productive growth overload their "adaptive capacity" [Habermas, 1979:146],
they have to give way to a new set of relations (and, consequently,. to a
new institutional framework of superstructures) within which'"productive
growth can continue.

But even if the logic behind productive-force determinism proves

functional in character, why is it that the forces of production are
thought to be determinant in the first place? How, in other words, is their
primacy over production relations and their determinancy of forms of
production to be explained? Or, as Plamenatz [195^:29] expresses the same
questions in a negative form:

Why should not the 'relations of production, once they have

[19] The use of the term 'functional' here is merely intended to denote the
character of the logic on whiqh the explanation of historical change
due to the incompatibility or 'dysfunctionality' of elements is based
[cf., also, Cohen, 1978:160-3, 278-96]. The clarification is necessary
because the unspecified usage of the term may give rise to the
erroneous idea that stability and permanence are the norm and change
the exception - a notion which does not, of course, apply in Marx's
case [cf. Hobsbawm, 1972:275].

22
 become incompatible with the forces, continue 30 forever? Why
3hould not economic progress come to a stop? Why should there
not be economic and eocial stagnation?

Marx does not, unfortunately, offer an explicit justification for

ascribing such a determinate ascendancy to the forces of production. We
shall therefore venture a two-stage explanation of it on the basis "of a
broader interpretation of Marx's general theory of history. In the first
instance, we shall dwell on the Internal logical dependence of the Primacy
on the Development Thesis within the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production. We shall then concentrate on the postulate of the Development
Thesis, namely the axiomatic assertion of an intrinsic developmental drive
residing within the forces of production.

The primacy ascribed to the productive forces appears to be the logical

complement of the assumption that there is an inherent and universal
tendency towards development on their part. From the moment the latter is
established, it necessarily follows that the forces of production will
* ultimately prevail upon production relations. For, if the opposite were to
happen, _if_jjthat is, production relations proved successful in containing
developed forces, then, no alteration of the economic structure^wpuld
follow; economic transformations would never occur and we would be left
with a singular homeostatic mode of production which would tend to freeze
any tendency on the part of the forces towards change; history would thus
appear as an endless process of dstabilisation and; restabilisation on the
*"~same-basis in perpetuity. But from the moment that it is in the productive
- forces that the stimulus of change is generated, it is they that have also
to assume a determinate primacy over production relations. Very
schematically, the identification of the source of change dictates also
the manner in which change is effected.

The circularity of that logic maybe unravelled if we approach the

problem from the opposite end. The functional mode of explanation of the
manner in which forces of production determine the character of production
relations implies one thing; namely, that relations of production are
conceived of as particular fixed sets of regulative principles whose only
relevance to the mechanism of change rests on their immediate conformity
or dysfunctionality to the level of productive growth at any one point in

23
time. They are th^reforeKUXncap.abl.e. of, effecting, any, change, by_ ..themslyjs,
since their role in developmental terms is solely defined by their
relationship to the productive forces,. [20] Whatever their own internal
contradictions may be, they are not seen as containing within themselves
the condition for their solution; the latter is provided by the 'reality'
of the tendency of the forces of production to develop independently. But
the rejection of the possibility that the relations of production might
contain a major developmentalj>capay^...of their own brings us backto the
original presupposition; namely, that it is in the nature of the productive
forces alone to develop throughout history. Thus the determinant supremacy
of the forces is logically necessary once it is to the productive forces
alone that an inherent developmental capacity has been attributed; in the
scheme of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production, the Primacy
Thesis can only follow upon and be sustained by the precedence of the
Development Thesis.

It is to the latter, then, that we must turn our attention. What are the
reasons behind the adoption of thenDevelopment Thesis)by Marx? Why was it
that Marx chose to define the forces of production as the fundamental
propellent of historical development? Or, to put it another way, what are
the implicit presuppositions underneath* his ascription of ontological
supremacy to the producj:iy-e.--f-0rce3? The answer to these questions seems to
lie in the Marxian conception of the meaning of human history as one that
is embedded in the continuous struggle of man with_the natural world. [21]
The process of material production which is fundamental to the explanation
of historical development is regarded by Marx as the most important
manifestation of human activity^, whereby man.comes._ into ,, contact not only
with his fellow men,but, also with the forces of nature:

The labour, prpcgss, ,..., is purposeful activity aimed at,_the.

[20] "Relations of production are conceived of as a (necessary) envelope

or form which facilitates or fetters the growth of the productive
forces. The effect that they have is a secondary one, that of
expression or facilitation. Their positive role is limited to that of
not being an obstacle, of expressing what they contain" [Cutler et
al., 1977:138-9].
[21 ] For a full and sophisticated elaboration of this conception, see
Cohen [1978:151-9] who presents the most articulate defence of Marx's
general theory of history.
24
 production, of use-values. It la an appropriation of what exists
in nature for the requirements of man. It is the universal
> condition for the met aboil interaction ['Stoffwechsel] between
man and...jTaturje,,,the. everlasting nature-imposed condition of
human^exisfceneej and it is.therefpre independent of every form
of that existence, or rather it is common to all forms of
societx.in^which human beings live [Capital 1:290].

-^fprodi
^Productive activity/, labour, is, for Marx,

a process between man and nature, a process by which man, through

"HIT ownactions, mediates, regulates and controls the metabolism
Wtween himself and nature ... Through this movement he acts upon
external nature "and changes it, and in this way he
simultaneously changes his own nature. He develops the
potentialities slumbering within nature, and subjects the play
of its forces to his own sovereign power [ibid:283].

Man, then, finds himself in a state of constant, confrontationjrfith the

external jforJLdj this is so because his needs (to an extent.,h.Lstorically
conditioned but also naturally determined) are only very rarely catered
for by unassisted nature. The natural conditions under which human labour
is performed are, on the whole, adverse to man., [22] Indeed the hostility
of the natural forces is seen as providing the primary stimulus for man's
productive activity and its advances:

yf^~\ It is the necessity of bringing a natural force under the

/ I \ 192HlsliI5?"' socie y" $? economizing on its" energy, of
/
I I /appropriating or subduing it on a large scale by the work 6 the
\ \ / human hand, that plays the most decisive role in the history of
industry [ibid:6M9]. --*

It is because man is confronted by an essentially hostile nature that he

has to extend continuously his mastery over the environment so that he can
overcome the scarcity, privation and hardship that by necessity accompany
his existence. But this perennial process of the progressive subjection of
nature's forces to man entail's the development of his own productive
forces:

Just as the savage must wrestle with Nature to satisfy his

wants, to maintain and reproduce life, so must civilised man, and

[22] "whatever historical conditions [men -PL] live in, [they -PL] see
themselves confronted with a world of things which cannot be
transcended and which they must appropriate in order to survive"
[Schmidt, 1971:63], cf., also, Oilman [1971:82].
25
 he must do so in all social formations and under all possible
modes of production. With his_development, this realm of physical
necessity expands as a result of his wants; but, at the same
time, the forces of production which satisfy .these wants also
increase [Capital 111:820].)

|In the course of the process of development of his productive forces

man enters into relations of association with other men; what those
relations^regulating the character of production entail is the presence of
a social division of labour - in other words, of an allocation of roles to
producing agents and the determination of appropriation rights over the
social product. What ensues from this state of affairs is a division of
society into classes, i.e. into different social aggregates occupying
antithetical positions vis--vis the means of production and the social
product. An exact general definition of class is missing in Marx; his only
attempt at an articulate account of class begins at the end of Capital III,
but, unfortunately, the text breaks off quite abruptly at that point. What
is more, his usage of the term in various contexts has been far from
consistent or precise [23] - a difficulty which, as we shall see in Part
II, creates particularly complex problems in the case of classical
antiquity. The plurality of criteria that Marx employs in his many uses of
the term makes, as Oilman [1967:578] rightly argues, any search for a
unidimensional definition of class rather fruitless. For the purposes of
the present discussion, which is concerned with Marx's overall model of
historical development, it is probably sufficient to keep at the most
abstract level of the conception of classes as the representations or
personifications of determinate relations of production. [24] Classes, as
the collective social expressions of exploitative production relations,
can thus be generally defined in terms of their respective relationship to
the conditions of production (i.e. labour and the means of production) as

[23] An inconsistency which, as Dahrendorf [1859:4] points out, was only in

keeping with the loose application of the term typical of most
nineteenth-century theorists.
[24] Cf., in this respect, the point by Santos [1970:173]: "The starting
point of Marx's analysis is the study of a determinate mode of
production. At any given moment social classes appear as
'personifications', the volitional, personal, active content of
certain relations that are described abstractly. This does not mean
that at a more concrete level it will be impossible to describe the
classes of society ..."
26
well as to each other. [253 Thi3 definition may be said to approximate
Marx's own conception of members of different classes as

the characters who appear on the economic stage [a3 - PL] merely
personifications of economic relations; it is as the bearers of
these economic relations that they come into contact with each
other [Capital I;179].

On the other hand, given the determination of non-economic structures by

the economic foundation of society as postulated by the
Base/Superstructure Model, the opposition between classes will have to be
carried onto the political and ideological plane too. Thus, for example,
the economically privileged classes will tend to have a correspondingly
dominant role in all other spheres of social life. The following passage
from Marx reflects precisely the economic reductionism of the
Base/Superstructure Model on the question of class antithesis:

The specific economic form, ..., determines the relationship of

rulers and ruled, as it grows out of production itself ... It is ^ ^
always the direct relationship of the owners of the conditions"*'"
of production to the direct producers ... which reveals the
innermost secret, the hidden basis of the entire social
structure, and with it the political form of the relation of
sovereignty and dependence ... [Capital 111:791].}

J Systematic class opposition, the result of antagonistic relations of

production, develops alongside the growth of the productive forces.
Societies torn by class divisions are therefore, by extension, the result
of man's struggle with nature, of his attempt to master it and thereby
overcome the naturally-imposed necessity of subsistence and
reproduction. [26] ]jOnly when, with the incessant growth of the productive

[25] Cf. Engels's postulation that it is "the law of division of labour

that lies at the basis of the division into classes" [Anti-
Duhrlng:34T].
[26] Engels establishes this connection quite clearly: "The separation of
society into an exploiting and an exploited class, a ruling and an
oppressed class, was the necessary consequence of the deficient and
restricted development of production ... So long as the total social
labour only yields a produce which but slightly exceeds that barely
necessary for the existence of all; so long, therefore, as labour
engages all or almost all the time of the great majority of the
members of society - so long, of necessity, this society is divided
into classes" [Anti-DUhrlng:3^1 ].
27
forces, this necessity is brought under control, can the antagonistic and
repressive character of the relations of production be ended and the
division of society into classes abolished. Only with the full development
of man's productive capabilities can socialism, that state of affairs
which Engels poignantly calls "humanity's leap from the kingdom of
necessity to the kingdom of freedom" [Anti-Dhring:3^^], be brought about.
This is so because the possibility of a society free of social antagonisms
is inextricably linked to the mastery of the external environment, as Marx
points out:

the realm of freedom actually begins only where labour which is

determined by necessity and mundane considerations ceases ...
[It - PL] can only consist in socialised man, the associated
producers, rationally regulating their interchange with Nature,
brjjiging.it. un der-the common control^... [Capital 111:820], [27]

(The history of mankind is accordingly seen&fas the story of man's

attempt to impose his control over the external world, to achieve complete
mastery over nature, to fully eater for his needs, and thus to reach a
level well above the state forced upon him by the necessity of
subsistence^VThis conception is evident in Marx's notion of what the
completion, inaugurated by capitalism, of the struggle to conquer nature
signifies; capitalism creates the "material elements" for the development
of the rich individuality of man whose labours will appear "no longer as
labour, but as the full development of activity itself, in which natural
necessity in its direct form has disappeared" [Grundrisse:325]. But the
disappearance of natural necessity can only be promoted by the development
of the productive forces; by the development^that is, of man's own
productive capabilities, the acquisition of new techniques, the
accumulation of productively applicable knowledge, the perfection of

[27] Engels, too, thinks of this realm of freedom in similar terms, as the
stage at which "the whole sphere of the conditions of life which
environ man, and which have hitherto ruled man, now comes under the
dominion and control of man, who for the first time becomes the real,
conscious lord of Nature, because he has now become master of his own
social organisation" [Socialism: Utopian and Scientific:436]. Cf.,
also, Schmidt's [1971:13] characterisation which manages co bring
epigrammatically together the two interrelated aspects of socialism;
the latter is defined as the state in which the "mastery by the whole
of society of society's mastery over nature" is achieved.
28
working instruments and the advance of technology, the more economical use
of raw materials, and the overall growth in social productivity. In the
long-drawn process towards these ends, capitalism stands out as the last
phase precisely because it brings to a close man's struggle "for" the
subjection of the external world. v

This struggle is the basic attribute in Marx's conception of human

nature; it is this that forms the philosophical background against which the
delineation of the intrinsic developmental capacity of the forces of
production as the motive factor of historical development takes place. The
-ascendancy of the productive forces through the ages thus denotes the
extent of man's mastery over nature; it becomes the index of his progress./^)
The incessant growth of the forces of production purports to tell the
sto7*y~~^ir~^mHrs~ "evolving intercourse with the natural world. And the
constant and ceaseless character of that growth is guaranteed by the
continuity of the historical process itself, since the two are virtually
thought of as identical; every new productive achievement is cumulatively
stored and transmitted to the next st~ge~Of*developraent:

Because of the simple fact that every succeeding generation

finds itself in possession of the productive forces acquired by
the previous generation, and that they serve it as the raw
material for new production, a coherence arises in human
history, a history of humanity takes shape which becomes all the
more a history of humanity the more the productive forces of men
and therefore their social relations develop [Marx to
Annenkov:30-1 ]. [28] ~*~"*^*-~- , .

And, on that note, the explanatory framework of historical change based on

the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production is'reiterated:

Men never relinquish what they have won, but this does not mean
that they never relinquish the social form in which they have
acquired certain productive forces._0n the contrary, in order
that they may not be deprived of the results attained and
forfeit the fruits of civilisation, they are obliged, when the
mode of carrying on commerce no longer corresponds to the

C28] "History is nothing but the succession of the separate generations,

each of which exploits the materials, the capital funds, the
productive forces handed down to it by all preceding generations, and
thus, on the one hand, continues the traditional activity in
completely changed circumstances and, on the other, modifies the old
circumstances with completely changed activity" [German Ideology:38].
29
productive forces acquired, to change a l l their traditional
social forms [ibid:31 ]

30
 2. THE PROBLEM OF TELEOLOGY

The present chapter concentrates on certain problematical aspects of

Marx's general theory of history. And, since its explanation of historical
change is premissed on the development of the force of production in
time, first in order are the fundamental but unspoken endogenous
assumptions that underpin Marx's conception of historical growth.

Endogenous or unfolding models of development can be broadly defined as

those in which the possibility of change being the product of contingent
or accidental factors is not, generally speaking, raised. Development is
seen as an orderly, continuous and uniform process, motivated by forces
operating within and mechanisms internal to the unity under consideration
- be it civilisation, culture, religion, the family or society at large.
Changeis thus regarded as the result of growth generated internally, the
effect of the unfolding-in-time of inherent developmental capacities. C U
It is at this fundamental point, of course, that endogenous or_unfolding
models come closest to the basic premiss of .the Organic analogy^, so
prominent a characteristic of nineteenth-century evolutionist theories;
this consists of the employment of the logical metaphor of a social and
historical entity as a living organism, whose life-cycle encapsultes the
inner 'capacity'-for internal development, from genesis to the stage of
maturation. .Social phenomena are, in other words, treated as containing
within their structure the inner capability for self-growth. And it is
precisely this endogenous assumption that .^ives credence to the
conception of development as a continuous and uniform process.

On the basis of this broad definition, let us concentrate on Marx's

modes of historical development as it was reconstructed in the previous
chapter. The endogenous character of this model is evident in the

[1] "An unfolding model- is one which treats social change as the
progressive emergence of traits that a particular type of society is
presumed to have within itself from its inception" [Giddens,
1979:223].
31
assumption that society is propelled forward by the growth of the
productive forces. This growth results, as we have seen, in the
accumulation of the productive achievements in each particular epoch
until the point is reached when the density, quantity, power and newly
generated requirements of productive growth can no longer be accommodated
by the existing relations of production and a change of the whole socio-
economic structure bcoraes necessary. The underlying assumption of the
explanation of historical change is therefore to be found in the immanent
propellent properties of the forces of production which tend to grow and
expand throughout time.

Marx himself indirectly acknowledges the endogenous character of the

development the principles of which he lays down in the 1859 Preface, when
he writes that "new, higher relations of production never appear before
the material conditions of their existence have matured in the womb of the
old society itself.!' [op.cit.:l82; emphasis added]. Thus, the emergence of
new superior socio-economic structures is the result of developments that
have, taken place within the old social order. This is the logical
conclusion of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production, since
it is the same developments which drive the productive forces into
conflict with the existing production relations that generate the new set
of suitable relations which obtain so as to resolve the discord. The
endogenous assumptions of Marx's model can also be extracted from the
reading of another sentence in the 1859 Preface which states that "no
social order ever perishes before all the productive forces for which
there is room in it have developed" [ibid]. In this rigid formulation
change is again solely accounted for by the.self-propelled growth of the
productive forces; for a society to be transformed, it is required that its
internal productive potential (i.e. the degree of productive growth it can
contain) must first be fully realised.

But what are the theoretical repercussions of such an endogenous

posture? Let us first examine in greater detail what is implied by its
'negation', i.e. what is excluded from the endogenous framework. Generally
speaking, the 'immanentism' of the endogenous image is juxtaposed to a
conception of development as the result of the intrusion of exogenous
factors in the play of history. In other words, it is from the assumption

32
of the endogenous character of development that the notion of change as a
natural, continuous and orderly process is derived. This is so since every
variation or transformation can be traced back to and explained by the
entity's own internal developmental capacities. The 'closeness' of the
unfolding model to the impact of external interferences is, then, the first
of the symptomatic effects of its reliance on endogenous assumptions. What
is regarded as 'extraneous', i.e. what is excluded from such a frame of
reference, may of course vary considerably between different theories of
development; as a rule, so will vary accordingly the degree of
imperviousness of a particular theory to exogenous considerations. These
differences aside, though, models of an endogenous character are primarily
noted for the manner in which they relate the two sets of factors (i.e.
'internal' and 'external') and credit them with differential theoretical
value. As Smith's general observation on endogenous theories points out:

according to the endogenous paradigm, external factors are only

stimuli; the theoretical interest is centred upon the system's
reactions, upon the repercussions of this or that element in it.
The 'endogenist' ... is not really concerned with the nature,
intensity, timing or source of the stimulus [Smith, 1973:150].

The external environment is thus merely conceived of as the given, fixed

and passive background against which the theoretically 'self-sufficient'
entity or system in question reacts and thereby activates its internal
developmental mechanisms, [2] The endogenous paradigm can thus be
'negatively* defined by the theoretical demotion to a non-determinate
status which it effects on what it considers to be extraneous factors. The
presence or intrusion of these factors, when or if at all acknowledged, is
regarded as contingent in character and minimal in theoretical
significance; hence of no major consequence to the overall course of
development which is throughout conceived of as governed by endogenous
principles.

What we may understand as 'external' in the case of Marx's general

historical model is, first and foremost, the physical or geographical

[2] Also: "the environment is treated as a quarry from which the relevant
stimulus or catalyst ... is carried off, torn out of its context and
injected into the system" [Smith, 1973:151].
33
environment. Now, although there is no explicit mention of this in the 1859
Preface, it follows that productive forces grow and thereby transform
society by continuously striving towards the mastery of a nature which is
found at hand, fixed and unalterable. This is the implication of the
predication of the development of the productive forces "in the womb" of
society as the propellent of historical change; the continuous growth of
the forces of production is directed towards the conquest of and control
oyer .the. given-material environment. Such a conception does of course make
the postulated interaction [Stoffwechsel] between man and nature, which is
at the basis of Marx's definition of production [cf. Capital 1:290 above],
appear quite one-sided. It is however the impression which Marx's general
theory of history gives and which, for that reason, has resulted in the
demotion of the geographical factor as a variable of development in
Marxist orthodoxy [cf. Matley, 1966:101-2 and Sawer, 1977:128-9]. [3] And it
is this one-sided relationship that, as already mentioned, gives rise to
the assumptions of the natural and continuous character of historical
development. Yet it is precisely those assumptions that are open to both
theoretical and empirical objections in general. There is no need to dwell
on those at length apart from pointing out what is the most notable hiatus
in the endogenous logic.

This 3 located at the very assumption of the continuity of the

supposedly inexorable process towards the mastery of nature. For there is
nothing to guarantee that the external environment will not at some point
set limits to the propulsion of society forward. Or, as it has been pointed
out in relation to theories of adaptation in general, there is nothing to
guarantee that change will always Lc sustained, that the system in
question never becomes 'too much adapted' to the external environment; that
it ceases, in other words, to be 'adaptable' any longer, so that, instead of

[3] The widespread Marxist adherence to the endogenous character of

historical development has been exceptionally broken at a general
level by an incidental remark by Engels who at one point argued that
economic conditions should include not only the technique of
production but also geographical factors [cf. Engels to Borgius:UMl-
2]; and by Plekhanov who, under the influence of Darwin's ideas of the
adaptation of biological species to the environment [cf. Wetter,
1958:107], accorded a more prominent role to geographical variability
see Plekhanov [1969:^9-50] and [1972:129-31 and 216-7].
34
a developmental drive forward (i.e. instead of evolution proper), we become
confronted with what Geertz has called instances of "involution" [cited in
Werheim, 197^:37]. There is no logical provision in the endogenous paradigm
for the possibility that the 3elf-activated entity may exhaust its
developmental capability in midcourse, as it were, either because there is
no longer anything to adapt to or because it can no longer be induced to
further adaptation itself. There is no justification for the assertion of
a 'continuous' development. To put it another way, the examination of the
logical structure of the endogenous paradigm reveals at the theoretical
level a defect that has more than often been pointed out at the empirical
level; namely, that the supposition of the continuity of growth is an
unfounded assertion. It is, however, this very supposition which manifests
itself so prominently in developmental theories that proclaims the
ubiquity of change and which is expressed in their inability to adequately
explain or even allow for problems of historical permanence or persistence
and the possibility of recrudescence or even regression in history.

The problem of the demotion in theoretical significance, of external

factors by the endogenous paradigm has a further dimension. Extraneous
factors do not only refer to the physical environment but may also include
relations between two or more homologous units that happen to co-exist in
time alongside each other. In the case of the Marxian model this involves,
of course, the relatione between two or more contemporaneous social
systems with their respective sets of production relations and levels of
productive growth. The logic of the unfolding model .is such that it
precludes or at best inhibits the theoretical consideration of inter-
social or inter-systemic relationships of this kind and the related
questions of interaction, interdependence and interpntration. The
'closeness' of the endogenous outlook inevitably involves this tendency,
"to treat societies as unified wholes" [Giddens, 1979:224] or impenetrable
and insulated entities, since it is assumed that each one of them contains
within its structure its own developmental potential. It is therefore in
the nature of the unfolding model to tend to abstract from concrete
temporal and spatial settings in its attempt to locate the causes of
development in an endogenous manner.

35
 This fundamental weakness often gives rise to an eclectic use of
historical material so that the presumed endogeny of development can be
explicated. It is in those cases of the superimposition of a prefabricated
theoretical matrix which truncates historical evidence that the
conceptual inadequacies of the endogenous logic are felt most accutely. As
we shall see in Part II, Marx largely eschews this particular pitfall in
most of his historical studies by the distinction between the abstract
concept of mode of production and the concreteness of specific social
formations. Even so, the slackness in its application as well as the
underlying endogenous assumptions do not entirely absolve him of
eclecticism in his use of historical material, as is evinced by his
'silences' on societies of a syncretic structure (especially the
Hellenistic world) which may be interpreted as symptomatic of his overall
endogenous posture. [4]

The problem would perhaps be meritting little attention were it not for
the broader question of developmental typologies and its implications. The
typology of a particular developmental theory is the juncture at which a
whole range of related conceptual problems are combined and may therefore
be identified more easily. It is because of the centrality of typologies
(hierarchies of forms, sequences of stages, etc.) within a developmental
framework that their characterisation as "the single most distinctive
aspect of the theory of social evolution" [Nisbet, 1969:168] is justified.
Their existence is precisely aimed at the explication of the endogenous,
continuous and, as we shall see in a moment, cumulative character of
development and this inevitably involves varying degrees of selectivity
and generalisation. It is at this point that the superficiality of any
analogy between them and taxonomies in natural science is revealed. One
has, therefore, to approach the often-aired parallelism between the two
with extreme caution:

Just as the multiplicity of organisms in the world, when

carefully observed by the biologist, seemed to fall into

[4] The relative absence of references to problems of inter-systemic

relations may be seen as a resonance of the Hegelian heritage of
Marx, since, in Hegel too, the propellent contradictions of change are
produced within the unity. On this theoretical inadequacy of Marx,
reproduced by many a Marxist theorist since, see Friedman [197*1:4473.
36
 discernible groups of 'forms' or 'species',so, when human
societies of the present and the past were surveyed, they, too,
seemed to assume a determinate number of 'types' ... Societal
forms constituted an empirical set of facts which were what they
were, and which could be systematically described and arranged
for further detailed study and explanation [Fletcher, 1974:52].

Caution is indeed required because the analogy is not as direct as it may

at first appear. Social and historical types are not 'empirically there;
on the contrary, they have to be 'created', i.e. conceived of and given a
particular content. And, since "societies, unlike organisms, do not have
clear-cut boundaries" [Habermas, 1979:142], they have first to be defined
before they can be classified. Furthermore, the differences are not
limited at the point. of the inception of the idea of typification and
classification but extend, also, to the respective end-results; taxonomies
in natural science refer to 'species' proper, not 'types' and do not
necessarily involve a hierarchical order which is what invariably
characterises historical typologies [cf. Nisbet, 19.69:162].

Developmental types "Involve - those forms in which the developmental

drive forward can be observed; their very distinction, however, is
admittedly arbitrary "because of the continuity of development which they
are supposed to express. As Marx himself admits, "epochs in the history of
society are no more separated from each other by strict and abstract lines
of demarcation than are geological epochs" [Capital 1:492]. Each one of
them can be described.jschematically, as a temporary 'rest-point in the
process of growth of the productive forces; a point, in other words, at
which a relative harmony between forces and relations of production has
been achieved after the turbulences caused by the disintegration of the
preceding form. This equilibrium is, in turn, only transient, since the
ceaseless productive growth eventually results in a ruptural clash with
the existing relations of production and a new configuration has then to
obtain. This, the reflection of the endogenous paradigm on the conception
of developmental sequences, is, of course, complemented by a further
dimension; namely, that of the postulated 'epochs' or 'stages' not only
containing the potential for their own supersession but also
incorporating the advances achieved by their predecessors and passing
them over to the succeeding forms. This 'cumulative' aspect is central to
the hierarchical ranking of the developmental typology. Before we come to
that, however, let us concentrate first on the particular place that the
'moment' or 'instance' of change from one epoch to another occupies in the
endogenous paradigm.

The moment of change is of determinate importance in an endogenous

model of development in two senses. Firstly, as the instance at which the
actual realisation of the intrinsic potentialities of a particular form in
the series takes place, when this form has reached the point of maturation.
And, secondly, as the point at which the attainment of a higher step in the
ascending ladder of development is achieved. The emerging form is the
harbinger of a new era which is at one remove both distinct yet similar to
its predecessor in the sense that it contains the latter's advances while
itself constituting an advance on it. This 'moment of transition' brings us
to the question of the specific conception of change within a particular
developmental theory. What is involved in a conception of change is the
notions about the moment of change that accompany and complement the
general presuppositions of the endogenous paradigm. More specifically, the
notions dealing with the sources, mechanisms," channels and character of
the moment of the occurrence of change from one stage of development to
another. The introduction of the distinction between, on the one hand, the
general presuppositions of a developmental understanding of history
(involving the conception of development as an endogenous, continuous and
cumulative process) and, on the other, a corresponding conception of
change (addressing the problem of the moment of transition from one stage
to another) is, admittedly, artificial but also analytically
justified. [5]

It is artificial to the extent that a conception of change is

interwoven into and conceptually dependent upon the broader endogenous
assumptions underpinning the particular theory of development of which it
is part. Thus, for instance, the way Marx treats the character of

[5] A similar distinction is implied by Fletcher [197^:46], who speaks of

a "theory of evolution" (concerned with the "causal factors and
interconnections" involved in the ordered process of development)
complementing what may be described as an evolutionary view of
history in general (i.e. the general assumptions about and belief in a
determinate historical pattern characterised by endogenous,
continuous and cumulative development).
38
 transition from one socio-economic epoch to the next can be understood
only in the broader context of his interpretation of historical
development as the ceaseless growth of productive forces and man's ever-
increasing capacity to control nature. We can therefore extract a
particular conception of change only by means of the analytical dissection
of the logical structure of a theory of development, so that the
underlying developmental assumptions can be distinguished from the
corresponding treatment that the problem of the occurrence of change
receives.

On the other hand, this distinction is analytically justified for three

main reasons. Firstly, because, as it has been pointed out Cef .Smith,
1976:38], an elaborate conception of change is not always a necessary
complement of all endogenous models of development. Some may only be
concerned with emphasising the continuity and immanent character of
development without, however, theoretically providing for the specific
problem of the mechanism and causation of change. Secondly, because,
iti.' r 1 * * " *
^-LrwmJlthough it is possible to draw parallels between different theories of
development at the level of the general principles they share (i.e.
endogeny, continuity, etc.), the same is not necessarily true of their
respective conceptions of change. "The distinction by Martins [ 197^:280-1 ]
between "smooth" and "caesurial" images of change addresses this point
precisely; theories of development can be broadly divided into two
categories according to their treatment of the character of change. On the
"one hand, those theories which are inclined towards a view of change as a
r
* * smooth process; most of the classical evolutionist theories adhere to such
a 'flow image' of development. And, on the other, those theories which treat
the moment of change as a radical rupture, a violent disjuncture between
two opposing forces; the Marxian and the Hegelian systems fall into this
category, since they explain change by the tension between two
incompatible forces sharpening progressively and turning into open

39
collision. [6] Finally, the distinction is analytically useful because it
helps to elucidate the role the conception of change performs within the
broader developmental framework of a particular theory. This role is
specified by the fact that the conception of change aims at exemplifying,
as it were, the central underlying assumptions about development (i.e.
endogenous, orderly, continuous and cumulative) by addressing precisely
the crucial point at which all those assumptions are supposed to surface -
namely, the point of change. _-*-:

The question that arises, then, is where this distinction can be drawn
in the case of Marx's general theory of history. The latter predicates that
historical development is a process characterised by the growth of the
productive forces. This process can be 'captured', so to speak, at
particular moments specifiable by the set of production relations that
accompany productive growth. The transformations that occur from a society
dominated by one mode of production to another are, in turn, explained by
the particular conception of change as the result of the growing
contradiction between relations and forces. The causation of change is
thus provided by the pattern of relative harmony, disruption and
restabilisation on a higher plane of the correspondence between those two
sets of factors. The eventual outcome of each major dysfunctionality is
decided in favour of the forces of production which discard outmoded
production relations that inhibit their growth and select relations that
are suitable for the furtherance of that growth.

Once the role of the conception of change within an endogenous model of

development is clarified; and once some indication as to the functions it
performs and the questions it addresses is given; it is time to 'redress
the balance', as it were, by turning to the problem of the logical
dependence of the conception of change on the broader general assumptions
of the endogenous paradigm. The question that immediately arises in this
respect is what makes at all possible the presence of a conception of

[6] 'Caesurial' conceptions of change go as far back as Heraclitus, to

whom the root metaphor of development proceeding through the
conflict of opposi tes can be traced: "War is the father and king of
all things ... Opposition is good; the fairest harmony comes out of
diffrents; everything originates in strife ..." [cited in Rader,
1979:xviii].
40
, ^ -

change within a developmental theory; or, in other words, what are the
theoretical conditions of the existence of such, a conception. The answer
to this is not as straightforward as it may appear. For we have to eearch
for it in the core attribute of developmental logic, namely that history
is perceived as an orderly process of immanent and endogenous growth. The
very intelligibility of history, i.e. the idea that history has a meaning
that is possible to decipher, is geared to, indeed entirely dependent on,
the conviction that history is governed by orderly development generated
from within. In other words, for change to have taken place, for the
process of history to have unfolded, it is required that this process
takes the form of a continuous and ordered endogenous development. Thus, in
Marx's model, human history is, as we have seen, identified with the growth
of the productive forces which represents man's struggle to liberate
himself from and conquer nature.

It is on this prerequisite of a presumed orderly character of

development that a unified conception of change becomes at all possible.
For what allows a mode of causation relevant and applicable to all
instances of change to emerge is precisely the assumption that change can
be traced to uniform causes, as it is generated from within. A uniform
conception of change is, therefore, logically dependent on the
presuppositions of an endogenous model of development. And this is, indeed,
a further aspect of the role the conception of change plays within the
endogenous paradigm; by treating the problem of the mechanism of
transformation according to unalterable causative patterns," what the
conception of change does is to reaffirm a general "mode of relatedness"
[Ginsberg, 1953:473, an aetiological connection, between the various parts
or stages of the developmental series. Thus, to explain change becomes to
subsume under universal formulae, to subject individual transformations to
a uniform mode of causation drawn from endogenous assumptions. [7]

[7] This tendency is shared by most classical theories of social

evolution. A commonly-shared infatuation with natural science and its
successes in the nineteenth century may have greatly contributed in
feeding most social evolutionists with what Berlin [1954:13]
describes as "pattern-conceptions of history".
41
 Before we look closer into the Implications of this 'principle of
uniformity*, we must first- point out that the conditions of existence of
such a set of fixed laws and the degree of their invariability or rigidity
pose the problem of the 'closeness' of endogenous models in a context that
can now be conceptualised more clearly. This 'closeness', then, derives from
the confidence that the explanatory value of an abstract scheme of
invariable causative rules (or a conception of change as we have defined
it) is uniformly and universally valid for all occurrences of historical
transformation, since all instances of change are presumed to fall within
its prescribed framework. The principle of uniformity, as the product of
the general endogenous assumptions about development and the prerequisite
of any conception of change, defines, then, the closeness or insularity of
unfolding models of history. And it is this very uniformitarian principle
[cf. Nisbet, 1969:182] that postulates a more or less trans-historical and
universal approach to development. This is the sense in which Gouldner
C 1980:236-7] characterises Marx's general theory of history as a
"universal determinism"; the Base/Superstructure Model reduces all
aspects of social life to [ the economic structure to which change is
subsequently referred by means of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production.

Now that the role" of the conception of change within a theory of

development has been dealt with, we may return to the theoretical problem
of the developmental series in a new light. We have already seen that
change is regarded as the product of endogenous development, the result of
uniform and universal causes, and that it becomes 'crystallised', so to
speak, in particular historical forms which comprise the developmental
series. We have also discussed the particular character and role of the
typological series as part of the broader developmental model. It is on
this basis that we now turn to the examination of the logical structure of
those typological serialisations.

Obviously, the supposed continuity of development is reflected in the

idea that the various parts of the series do not simply constitute mere
identical equivalents or successive repetitions of each other, but, rather,
differential developmental gradations or stages. They are typological
constructions demonstrating 'advances' made from one point of development

42
to another, in the sense that each stage/form in the series transmits to
its successors the accumultded achievements of its own and its
predecessors. This cumulative or incremental aspect is the direct
consequence of the assumed continuity of development, a development, that
is, which remains throughout endogenous, i.e. 'sealed off from
theoretically significant external interferences. The incremental
attribute of the endogenous paradigm is expressed in the fact that the
structure of the developmental series is distinctly hierarchical; and it
is such in the sense that the various stages or forms, although homologous
in their common susceptibility to the same causation, are themselves
distinct and classified in an ascending order, with 'higher' forms
representing developmental advancements and following on 'lower'
forms. [8]

Given the hierarchical structure of a developmental sequence, the next

theoretical questions we need address ourselves to concern the specific
mode in which the various types in the series are differentiated.and
classified; the particular criteria by which they are orHerecHalong
hierarchical lines; the precise way in which their respective advances are
measured against each other's; in short, the problem of what constitutes
the index of the level of development. The immediate reply to these
questions would of course be that the criterion of hierarchy is provided
by the very chronological succession of stages of development, the very
serialist order of the typology. This, however, is only a small part of the
answer. A gradual process or sequence is not eo ipso a graded order. But
the chronological succession of stages emanates in this case from the
assumed continuity of development along uniform causative lines. It is,
then, in the principle of uniformity itself (and, consequently, in its
theoretical manifestation, i.e. the conception of change) that the ranking
criterion has to be sought. Or, to express the same thing differently, it
is in terms of the uniform developmental causation prescribed by a
particular conception of change that the question of what 'measures'

[8] And inversely: "Each moment of this process is new in the sense that
it possesses new characteristics, or new combinations of known
characteristics; but unique and unrepeatable though it is, it
nevertheless follows from the immediately preceding state in
obedience to the same laws ..." [Berlin, 1973:57].
43
development should be raised. Taken to the Marxian model, this means that
it is the degree of growth of the productive forces enveloped by a
particular set of production relations that serves as the measure of
development; and that, inversely, the hierarchy of forms (i.e. of particular
economic structures, of particular sets of production relations) is
established on the basis of the index of their respective level of
productive growth. [9]

But can a ranking criterion be defined and employed in such an abstract

sense? Can it, in other words, be itself free of a concrete referent? Or is
it, on the contrary, specified in relation to one of the types in the
series, that is, derived from or even modelled upon a particular stage of
development? To come to terms with these questions in the case of Marx's
general theory of history,, we have to go back, once more, to what Marx's
conception of change actually predicates. The Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production is seen as finding its ultimate expression or
culmination in what,is regarded as the last stage or "progressive epoch"
of the "economic formations of society" [1859 Preface:l82], namely
capitalism. It is at this stage that the growth of the productive forces
reaches its most advanced level by having incorporated all the productive
achievements of previous epochs and by furthering these to an
unprecedented degree. In this sense, the capitalist stage stands out as the
historical sum total of the accumulated growth of the forces of
production, the apogee of their developmental drive, the telos of the long-
drawn course of development.

Before we proceed to the theoretical implications of this 'privileged'

position of capitalism in the Marxian typology, it is first necessary to
dwell on the precise sense in which capitalism is conceived of as the
culminating stage of the process of development; by doing so we shall be
able to illuminate the manner in which capitalism is constituted as the

[9] This is clearly the implication, for instance, of the technicist

language in the following passage: "It is not what is made but how,
and by what instruments of labour, that distinguishes different
economic epochs. Instruments of labour not only supply a standard of
the degree of development which human labour has attained, but they
also indicate the social relations within which men work" [Capital
1:286].
44
telos of that process. What should, first of all, be made clear is that
capitalism is not proclaimed by Marx to be the ultimate end-result of
human history; it cannot, therefore, be taken to represent a telos in the
strict eschatological sense. CIO] It nevertheless remains the 'last form'
in the particular process of development that led up to it in the sense of
being the concluding stage of all antagonistic forms of society and the
ante-chamber to that stage in human history, socialism, at which man's
struggle with nature comes to an end and social antagonisms are abolished.
Without, therefore, being the end of all history, capitalism constitutes
the last chapter of what Marx saw as the "prehistory of human society"
[ibid], of society, that is, which has, been driven by the need to accrue
productive advances and torn by social divisions and conflicts.

How are we to explain this paradox of capitalism being, on the one hand,
the 'summation of human prehistory', without, on the other, this being
construed in an eschatological manner? The answer is to be sought not only
in what capitalism is seen to 'conclude^; but also in what its predicted
supers.ession is taken to 'inaugurate^namely, the dawn of a form of social
organisation free of social conflict. This is because capitalism i3
regarded as laying down the material requirements of its socialist
successor by effecting a tremendous increase in the productive capacity of
society to such a point that all restrictions imposed upon man by natural
necessity can be shaken off. By ensuring the material prerequisites for
social reproduction to the full, what capitalism does is to lay down the
conditions for man's emancipation, both from nature and from exploitation
by his fellow men. It is when the forces of production have reached that
point in their growth that antagonistic relations become redundant (i.e.
social divisions become unnecessary and superfluous) and socialism can
emerge. In the previous chapter we saw that Marx's overall conception of
human history is based on the idea of man's progress in his continuous
struggle to liberate himself from natural necessity. But "all progress
must be defined in terms of goals, that is in teleologica! terms"

[10] Eschatology is here taken to mean the postulation of an end-state

which is explicitly apprehended. On the logico-philosophical
problems of the socialist eschatology in Marx, see Saran [1963:97,
104-9],
45
[Rapoport, 1969:119] [11] and this is exactly the sense in which Marx's
conception of capitalism as the telos of 'human prehistory' (that is, of
all history before socialism) must be understood. Socialism, that leap of
humanity from the realm of necessity to the realm of freedom, presupposes
capitalism; it is neither possible nor realisable before "capitalist
production has developed the productive forces of labour to a sufficiently
high level" [Theories of Surplus-Value 11:580; cf., also, ibid:423]. [12]
And it is only capitalism that generates such a "full development of human
mastery over the forces of nature" [Grundrisse:488] and thus fulfils its
"historic destiny [Bestimmung]" [ibid:325] by laying down the
preconditions [13] for the advent of socialism:

Development of the productive forces of social labour is the

historical task and justification of capital. This is just the
way in which it unconsciously creates the material requirements
of a higher mode of production [Capital 111:259].

Capitalism is, therefore, designated as the telos of the process of

development but in a "contradictory" or "alienated form" [Giddens,
1982:288]; in the sense, that is, of representing that point in human
history at which the contradiction between the over-developed productive
forces and the restrictive framework of the exploitative and antagonistic
nature of production relations is maximised and has to be definitively

[il] Cf., also, Kolakowski's comments that "Marx constantly regarded the
historical process from the point of view of the future liberation of
mankind" and that "in Marx's view history as he knew and analysed it
derived its meaning not from itself alone but from the future that
lay before mankind" [Kolakowski, 1978:348 and 371, respectively].
[12] Towards the end of his life, while studying the possibilities of a
socialist transformation in the non-capitalist world, Marx seems to
have begun to vacillate over the question of the necessary precedence
of socialism by capitalism. This apparent indecisiveness comes
through in the three drafts he prepared for a reply to a letter from
Vera Zasulich in 1881 (see Bibliography).
[13] Apart from the quantitive condition (i.e. the growth of the
productive forces) capitalism also furnishes the qualitative
conditions that are necessary for the emergence of a higher, non-
antagonistic form of social organisation. The latter include the
unification of the direct producers into a collectivity as
necessitated by capitalist relations of production [cf. Capital
1:468-9 and Communist Manifesto:*^], the imposition of disciplined
procedures in the process of production, the concentration of wealth
which facilitates the collective appropriation of and control over
the means of production, etc
46
resolved in the emergence of socialism. It is in that sense, then, of a
telos-in-alienation' that capitalism stands out. as the summation of the
process of development in Marx's general historical model.

Without losing sight of the socialist eschatology that lies behind

Marx's conception of capitalism as the summation or telos of history, let
us return to the theoretical implications of such a posture with regard to
the construction of a typological heirarchy. What i3 of particular
interest here, is the extent to which the stages of development are ranked
and analysed, not merely by reference to their respective levels of
productive growth, but also by ultimate reference to the postulated telos
of the process of development, namely capitalism. The problem that lays
before us consists, in other words, of the extent of intrusion of
teleological arguments in the Marxian historical methodology.

One of the forms in which this problem manifests itself is presented by

the treatment of the growth of the forces of production in a particular
typelin the series by recourse to the ultimate culmination of that growth
in capitalism. It is in such cases that the original question of whether
the ranking criterion in the typological hierarchy is free of teleogical
elements emerges in all its severity; for it now assumes the quite
specific form of whether a particular type is to be ranked solely on the
grounds of the performance of the forces of production in it or by primary
reference to what those forces have ultimately given riee to.

A prominent test-case for this problem is provided by the emergence of

European feudalism. Since capitalist society developed out of feudalism,
it may be suggested that the destruction of the classical world, out of
whose ruins feudalism emerged, was beneficial to human progress because it
facilitated, in the long-run, the birth of a more advanced structure. This
is what-Engels suggests in his treatment of the dissolution of the Roman
Empire and the submergence of Europe into the Dark Age. On the one hand,
Engels does not deny that the forces of production and society at large
suffered a severe regression in the transition to feudalism:

Universal impoverishment; decline of commerce, handicrafts, the

arts, and of population; retrogression of agriculture to a lower
stage ... [Origin of the Family, Private Property and the

47
 State:559]. [14]

On the ot'h-r hand, however, the significance of this regression is

considerably diluted by recourse to the developmental telos:

unproductive as these four hundred years [i.e. the Dark Age -PL]
appear to have been, they, nevertheless, left one great product
behind them: the modern nationalities, the refashioning and
regrouping of West European humanity for impending history
[ibid:564-5].

What Engels does, then, is to suppress the theoretical significance of the

regressive character of the passage from antiquity to feudalism which
contradicts the continui3t, progressive and cumulative attributes that
development is assumed to possess. The specific theoretical gravity of the
instance of the transition to feudalism is lessened precisely because it
is not treated only as such but is also referred to th "prescribed
historical telos (i.e. modern Europe, capitalism). And this reduction is
perpetrated by effectively contravening the theoretical requirements of
the ranking criterion (i.e. the level of productive growth) which Engels is
supposed to be applying. The result is that the passage to feudalism may
still be regarded as a 'progressive moment in human history - and thereby
be made to conform to the general continuist and cumulative pattern of
development - even if this can only be achieved by the invocation of the
telos.

An even more explicit example of this sort of teleogical argumentation

is provided by Engels's view of slavery as a degrading and backward form of
productive labour but also, at the same time, as the inevitable price of
progress and thus, in a sense, as itself progressive. The appeal to
teleology could hardly be more obvious:

Without slavery, no Greek state, no Greek art and science;

without slavery, no Roman Empire. But without the basis laid
down by Grecian culture, and the Roman Empire, also no modern
Europe. We should never forget that our whole economic,
political and intellectual development presupposes a state of
things in which slavery was as necessary as it was universally
recognised. In this sense we are entitled to say: without the
slavery of antiquity no modern socialism [Anti-Duhring:221 ].

[14] Hereafter Origin.

48
 It is therefore the intrusion in historical methodology of the
postulated telos of development that determines, in the two instances
above, the way in which the forms in the series are hierarchically placed
and analysed. In such cases the level of productive advance is not
employed as the ranking principle in an abstract sense; on the contrary -
and this is where the problem of telelogy arises - it is applied by
reference to the climax of development, the zenith of productive growth in
capitalism. Thi3 sort of reasoning which judges events and accords them
significance from the point of what is seen as their ultimate conclusion
is elliptical because it reste on teleological reductions. It is a
reasoning otherwise condemned by Marx and Engels as "speculatively
distorted" because "later history is made the goal of earlier history"
[German Ideology;38]. And it becomes possible because of the endogenous
assumptions of Marx's general historical model; for, from the moment that
each phase of development is thought of as 'containing' its predecessors
(and, inversely, the latter are seen as 'preparations' for the final stage),
capitalism can emerge as a kind of transcendental telos. [15]

This aspect of the problem of teleological reasoning is tackled on a

more general plane, and with quite different terminology, by E. Gllner. In
presenting his""logical objection" to evolutionism, Gellner [1964:9-15]
argues against the assumption of theoretical effectivity by a
r

developmental or evolutionary series with a definite direction (or telos),

whereby the position a form or type occupies in the series is held capable
of accounting for and explaining it. His aphorism, that evolutionism "is
logically mistaken in supposing that to place something in a series is to
explain it" [ibid:M4], seems to apply precisely' to the perpetration of
teleological reductions of the kind discussed above. Gellner's "logical
objection" should arguably be understood in this spirit because the role
the established hierarchy assumes within a developmental theory obscures
the immediately relevant questions of how and why every stage should

[15] Teleological reductions of this sort can be traced back to Hegel who
argued in a similar vein: "Progress appears as an advancing form from
the imperfect, to the more perfect; but the former must not be
understood abstractly as only the imperfect, but as something which
involves the very opposite of itself - the so called perfect - as a
germ or impulse" [Hegel, 1944:57].
49
 forward its successor in the prescribed developmental manner by-
concentrating on the overall direction of development. [16]

It is in this methodological sense that the notion of teleology is to

be employed. To justify this particular use of the term the role of the
conception of change within the broader context of developmental logic
had, firstly, to be brought forward; and, secondly, the theoretical
significance of the developmental series had to be clarified. Lastly, for
its methodological character to emerge, the notion of teleology in Marx
had to be dissociated from its immediate eschatological connotations. The
sense in which the concept of teleology is herein employed could perhaps
be more generally perceived as a "framework in terms of which everything
is, or should be, conceived and described" [Berlin, 1954:15]. To
recapitulate, the notion of teleology entails that what ha3 been
constituted as the telos of the developmental process determines, to a
large extent, the way in which historical analysis proceeds by intruding
into the conception, classification and description of the various stages
- of development.

This intrusion of a teleologically structured explanatory design into

the study of the past implies that the representation of historical
development becomes identical wi'tlTthe reconstruction of the 'lineage' of
the telos, i.e. of that inescapable process of development that has led to
the telos. It is in this vein that we should understand the term
"genealogy" as used by Hirst [1975:448] in order to characterise the
typologies of those theoretical systems based on the endogenous paradigm
which postulate a historical necessity in the limited sense that the
existence of any form in the series requires that 'lower' preceding forms
have been realised (e.g. no modern Europe without slavery, no socialism
without capitalism, etc.). It is therefore the telos that seeks, so to

[16] The definition of a teleological theory by P. Cohen [1968:47] is also

in the same vein: "A doctrine or theory is said to be teleological if
it explains the existence of some phenomenon by asserting that it is
necessary in order to bring about some consequence; more
specifically, teleological theories are said to explain one thing by
showing that it has beneficial consequences for another. The
principal objection to this is that the explanation treats an effect
as a cause."
50
speak, ita own prehistory in the past; a past which is in turn
reconstructed to this end. The historical process is, consequently, 'read
backwards', as it were, since its content, meaning and direction have been
preempted in the sense that its analysis takes place within the
predetermined contours of a particular developmental theory and is
sustained theoretically by the latter's conception of change. The
developmental logic revolves, therefore, around the teleological
postulate. This is the case of the Marxian theory too, for it is evident
that "it is the idea of capitalism" that "Marx is dealing with" in his
attempt to construct a general historical model [Nisbet, 1969:180], [17]
Marx himself admits as much when he declares that:

The so-called historical presentation of development is

founded, as a rule, on the fact that the latest form regards the
previous ones as steps leading up to itself, ... [It -PL] always
conceives them one-sidedly [Grundrissen 06].

On the strength of this argument, then, the oft-spoken charge against

developmental and evolutionist theories, namely that they seek to explain,,^-*
the present in terms of the past, should, in the light of the omnipresence
of teleology in their methodologies, probably be reversed. For this reason,
the contention of the present thesis is that a theory such as Marx's
general model of history seeks to explain the past in terms of the present.
Hence the specific methodological sense in which the concept of teleology
is employed; instead of the conventional use of the term as merely
denoting an a priori assumed finalisti], teleology is herein taken*~to~~*"~*
signify the a posteriori determination of the developmental outlook on th s,i
historical past.

This formulation puts an entirely different complexion on the

principle of uniformity (which, as we have seen, constitutes the
fundamental presupposition for a coherent conception of change) and its - -
theoretical implications. For the problem now becomes the degree to which,
by means of a teleological methodology, it is the principles thought to

[17] Cf., also, Hobsbawm [1964:19-20] and Rodinson [1966:98] who stress
that what interested Marx in his preoccupation with the past was the
discovery of those conditions that made possible the emergence of
capitalism in Western Europe. The point is developed more extensively
in Parts II and III.
51
characterise or govern the telos that become 'universalised'; the degree,
in other words, to which these principles are uniformly applied to and
projected back onto past history, so as to account (in the "one sided
manner" that Marx anticipates) for the process leading up to the telos. To
particularise the question on Marx's general historical schema, the
problem that arises is the extent to which the Base/Superstructure Model
and the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production are held as
universally, valid; the extent in other words, to which they are held
capable of explaining not only the structure of capitalist society, but of
all previous forms.

It is in this light that the full teleological impact of Marx's well-

known argument is revealed:

Bourgeois society is the most developed and the most complex

historic organization of production. The categories which
express its relations, the comprehension of its structure,
thereby also allows insights into the structure and the
relations of production of all the vanished social formations
out of whose ruins and elements it built itself up ... Human
anatomy contains a key to the anatomy of the ape. The
intimations of higher development among the subordinate animal
species, however, can be understood only after the higher
development is known. The bourgeois economy thus supplies the
-""Key"to the ancient, etc. [ibid:105].

This evidently is the 3tarting-point for the contruction of a uniform

causality on the basis of the telos; a characteristic so prominent in
theories of social development that has been described as "the essence of
evolutionism"; [18] and a mode of reasoning which Marxists, such as K.
Korsch, all too readily identify in non-Marxist theorists:

Even when bourgeois investigations speak of an historical

'development' of society, they do not step beyond the magic
circle of bourgeois society. They consider all the earlier forms
as 'preliminary stages' leading up to its present fully
developed form. They constantly apply to the preceding
historical epochs the concepts drawn from the social conditions

[18] "The essence of E/oU-tioni'i was a kind of moral and sociological

equivalent of a mathematical induction: let it be shown that if a
property applies to stage n, it must also apply to stage plus 1; and
let it be shown that it applies to the whole series ..." [Gellner,
1964:^-5].
^2
 of today [Korach, 1963:48].

Korsch, of course, absolves Marx of this charge. And there is no question

of the Marxian theory of history not recognising the distinctive character
of social forms preceding capitalist society. Indeed, Marx strenuously
condemned the bourgeois economists of his time who tended to "smudge over
all historical differences and see bourgeois relations in all forms of
society" CGrundri3se;1053. But this crude version of the teleological
fallacy is no longer the problem. For the question persists whether Marx,
in all the sophistication of his typology of development, did indeed
"apply to the preceding epochs the concepts drawn from the social
conditions of today"; whether, in other words, he succumbed to an error
similar to the one he had so forcefully castigated by mistaking for
eternally valid the analytical categories and developmental causality
which he had derived from his study of capitalism.

To what extent, then, was Marx himself free of similar teleological

generalisations? We have witnessed that hisgeneri theory of history does
indeed rely on a uniform causation and therefore lays open to this charge.
What has to be determined is whether his concrete studies of precapitalist
forms, and of the Graeco-Roman world in particular, conform to this
universal explanatory framework; or whether, on the contrary, they deviate
from and contravene the Base/Superstructure Model and the Dialectic of
Forces and Relations of Production. Whether, in other words, the common
reservation that, "while the Marxian theory""seems highly relevant" in
analysing capitalist society, "its utility and 'relevance elsewhere are
much less clear" [Bottomore, 1971:201] is implicitly shared by Marx too,
when he finds' himself grappling with the problems of precapitalist
societies, and, more specifically, with that of the classical world.
 PART II

" MARX ON CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY

 PROLEGOMENA

Part II examines the Marxian literature on or relevant to classical

antiquity in the light of the problems raised in Part I. The central aim of
this critical discussion is to identify 'areas of tension' or 'points of
divergence' between Marx's general theory of history and his concrete
historical observations. These points are subsequently explored and
theorised in Part III, where an attempt to explain the presence of
anomalies in Marx's work is also made.

The problematical areas on which the examination of the Marxian

literature on classical antiquity is centred include the following.
Firstly, questions associated with the structural morphology of ancient
society; in particular, the extent to which Marx's conception of the
ancient social structure conforms to the general model which identifies
and then reduces a determined superstructure to a determinate economic
base. Secondly, the question of the theoretical adequacy of the Dialectic
of Forces and Relations of Production for the explanation of the
historical development of the Graeco-Roman world; in particular, the
degree to which Marx's own remarks about the transformations that occurred
in the classical world are based upon the theses (outlined in the 1&59
Preface) postulating the inherent developmental tendency of the
productive forces and their capacity to prevail upon and transform
relations of production. Thirdly, the extent to which the history of
antiquity, as conceived by Marx, confirms the implicit assumptions of his
general theory of history with regard to the endogenous, continuous and
cumulative character of development. And, fourthly, the problem of the
definition of social classes and class struggle in the ancient world; this
is inextricably linked to the problem of structural morphology and
temporally specifiable by the phases of the historical development of
antiquity.

The organisation of Part II does not follow closely these thematic

lines. In other words, although the discussion revolves around the

54
aforementioned four problematical areas, the mode of presentation follows
for the sake of simplicity, conventional temporal lines. It begins with
critical look at the position of classical antiquity in Marx'i
periodisation schemes and a review of the Marxian literature on the
emergence of antiquity, continues with the discussion of the compie
problems arising out of its structure and internal development, and ends
with an account of its dissolution. The central questions outlined above
reappear, under the guise of different forms, in almost all the various
moments' of the history of antiquity, albeit of course with different
degrees of emphasis at each point. Thus, for example, the chapter on the
constitution of the ancient relations of production is primarily
concerned with the problem of the structural morphology of classical
society, while the chapter on its internal development addresses mainly
the question of the theoretical adequacy of the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production, and the chapter on its dissolution challenges the
endogenous and cumulative assumptions about historical development. Such
an organisation has the possible disadvantage that certain Marxian
passages, relevant to more than one of the problematical issues we are
concerned with, have to be discussed more than once.

A last note concerns the problem of the emergence of the ancient world
which is not treated systematically by Marx, but only by Engels in his
Origin which is supposed to follow Marx's notes on the subject. Since,
however, the present analysis'focuses chiefly on Marx's conception of the
classical world, Engels's particular account of its emergence is discussed
separately in the Appendix.

55
 3. THE MARXIAN LITERATURE ON THE ANCIENT WORLD AND ITS EMERGENCE

The sources from which a picture of Marx's ideas on the classical world
can be drawn constitute themselves a major difficulty. This is so because,
although Marx referred to antiquity on many occasions, this was rarely for
its own sake. Rather, his aim was to explain and, by means~of*~contrast, put
into relief particular features of capitalist society, the comprehension
of which was the main objective of his scholarly work. The result of this
is that Marx's views on the ancient world are to be discovered in his
various attempts at historical periodisation in which classical antiquity
occupies a central place in the genealogy of capitalism (e.g. The German
Ideology,Grundrisse), and in the form of numerous obiter dicta on antiquity
scattered throughout his writings for the purpose of illustrative
contrasts with bourgeois society.

The fragmented nature of the Marxian remarks on classical antiquity

poses the problem of whether it is at all feasible to attempt their
assembly from the cumbrous body of literature, as if they presented us
with an entirely coherent picture of the Graeco-Roman world. [1] In view
of this de facto fragmentation and taking into account Marx's theoretical
priorities (which certainly did not include the study of antiquity in its
own right), it would be absurd to assume that a complete or systematic
picture of it can emerge from his writings. It nonetheless appears that a
certain degree of internal consistency permeates most of Marx's
observations on the ancient world; a consistency which renders credence to
the belief that his remarks on the subject, albeit incomplete, are not
substantially disconnected for "they derive from an underlying and
unitary view of the nature of ancient society, a conception whose

[1] Even in the case of the Grundrisse, which provides the major source
for Marx's observations on antiquity, there can be no question of
regarding it as an elaborate theoretical account of the historical
problems of the ancient world since it is composed, by Marx's own
admission, by "monographs, written at widely varied periods, for my
own clarification and not for publication" [cited in Hobsbawm,
1964:10].
56
essential features remained the same throughout his writings" [Padgug,
1975:853. A certain coherence can indeed be discerned among the various
insights into ancient society Marx provides us with; a coherence on the
basis of which an analytical framework for the study of antiquity can be
constructed. Of course, were this to be translated into something more
nearly approaching historiography, it would require much greater attention
to phenomena that Marx treated very insufficiently or even ignored
completely. This is why the present discussion sets off from the
recognition that what lies before it is a series of largely abstract and,
at times, even simplistic generalisations which avoid a large array of
problematical issues in the history of the ancient world. This is also why
every assertion about the literature, every mention of phenomena not
directly raised by Marx but relevant to the understanding of his views,
and every use of secondary sources and works of classical scholarship for
the purposes of illustration will inevitably need to be hedged about with
qualifications.

Given""the~ incomplete and largely conjectural nature of the Marxian

literature on classical antiquity, a word should be said about Marx's use
of primary classical and secondary historiographical sources. What should
be noted at the outset in this respect is that neither Marx, nor Engels for
that matter, ever thought of themselves as historians or anthro pologists;
they merely made use, often judicious and critical, of the then available
work of historians and anthropologists for their theoretical and
political-objectives. [2]

As far as Marx's knowledge of anthropology and ethnology is concerned,

it has been suggested that it was very sketchy and incomplete. Thus,
Hobsbawm [1964:25] opines that, at the time of the Grundrisse [1857-8],
"Marx's and Engels's knowledge of primitive society ... was not based on any

[2] The political and polemical aspect of Marx's and Engels's concern
with historical and anthropological problems is discussed more
extensively later on. Suffice here to say that their attempt at
tracing the genealogy of capitalism and identifying anterior forms
of social organisation was also motivated by their desire to
demonstrate, by means of historical argumentation, the transient and
non-eternal character of a social order of whose limitations they
were convinced and whose downfall they were actively involved in
precipitating.
57
serious knowledge of primitive societies", and this mainly because of the
relative absence of contemporary anthropological material. Harris
[1969:227] goes further by maintaining that Marx was not well acquainted
even with contemporary evidence and research and that, in the case of
primitive communal ism in particular, "Marx's knowledge of Ethnography had
still not advanced much beyond that of Turgot or Rousseau". [3] A
significant step towards the amelioration of his relative ignorance of
anthropological issues was taken towards the end of Marx's life when he
seized the opportunity furnished by Morgan's Ancient Society to redress
his neglect of the primitive world. It was his copious notes on Morgan (but
also on Phear, Main, Lubbock, Kovalevsky and Maurer) [4] that provided, of
course, the main source and inspiration for Engels's later writing of the
Origin.

Marx's familiarity with classical sources, on the other hand, can be

established much more easily than his knowledge of anthropology. Marx had
had a classical education both in school and at university and it is
beyond doubt that he was drawn to philosophy largely by his study of the
Greek classics; his doctoral dissertation [1839-41], which was an attempt
at a comparison of the Democritian and Epicurian systems, testifies to
this early interest. This continued almost unabated throughout his
life [5] and there is evidence to suggest that he used to have frequent
recourse to ancient authors, even for relaxation [cf. Marx to Engels,
February 27, 1861:115]. Extensive references to and critical notes on
Aristotle, Appian, Tacitus and others are to be found scattered in many of

[3] Harris even extends his argument to include Marx's knowledge of all
pre-feudal societies in general, the Marxian analysis of which he
finds "highly schematic, superficial and disorganized" [Harris,
1969:227]. The same is confidently asserted by Mayo [1970:199] too,
who dismisses Marx's knowledge of precapitalism in general arguing
that "only Marx's ignorance of the ancient and medieval worlds
enabled him to make his simple generalizations about them."
[4] Edited and with an introduction by Krder [1972]. It is at that time
that precapitalist societies per se become a central concern of
Marx's, a shift of interest closely connected with his new strategic
and political orientations (see ch. 2, note 16).
[5] Ste.Croix [1981:55-6] has gone so far as to assert that Marx's
classical reading and, in particular, his close study of Aristotle's
Politics had had a "seminal influence" on his idea of the centrality
of class struggle in history.
58
his works; a compilation of major classical authors who appear in
different contexts in Marx's writings includes no less than twenty names
[cf. Ste.Croix, 1981:21]. His extensive reading and erudition [6] also
included a fairly broad familiarity with contempory classical scholarship
and, in particular, with the works of Grote, B'ustel de Coulanges, De la
Malle, Mommsen and Niebuhr. -.

It should, however, be reiterated that it would be a mistake to assume

that Marx's preoccupation with sources on classical antiquity derived from
an interest in the ancient world for its own sake or under the pretence of
classical scholarship. His dwelling upon ancient society was only part of
a much larger concern, both theoretical and political, and it was mainly in
that capacity that his observations on classical antiquity took place.
This 'peripheral' character of his study of the ancient world does not,
however, diminish its importance, either in its own right or in the context
of the present discussion. It does not lessen its significance as a series
of remarks about the classical world because, despite their disorganised
and often obscure nature, they exemplify elements of startling theoretical
acuity and originality. Moreover, this 'peripheral* dimension is of no
immediate con'sequence for the purposes of the present inquiry since the
latter's objective is not so much to test the viability of Marx's
observations on the classical world by contrasting or comparing them to
works of historiography, but, rather, to identify their implications in the
broader context of Marx's general theory of history. The fact, then, that
the present discussion concentrates on the 'internal' relations of Marx's
conception of history not only defines its major concern but also
circumscribes it a priori. It is because this is not a historical study
proper that it has to follow most of Marx's sweeping generalisations and

[6] On the breadth of Marx's reading in general, cf. the study by Prawer
[1976].
59
his inattention to historical detail [7] with the view of deducing the
gist of his arguments and identifying the points at which these diverge
from his overall scheme of history.

Before we begin to discuss the classical world in isolation, however, it

is first necessary to examine the place it occupies in Marx's typological
hierarchy. This will give us the opportunity to confront the questions of
unilinearism and multilinearism in Marx's periodisation models and to
study the europocentric elements in them. Such an exercise requires the
review of texts that have a span of some forty years, from The German
Ideology [1845-6] to Engels's Origin [1884], and which cover the various
phases of periodisation which Marx and Engels underwent.

The first attempt at a systematic drawing of a periodisation model is

to be found in The German Ideology [1845-6] which was written jointly by
Marx and Engels but was not published during their lifetime. The
underlying principle of periodisation in it consists of the idea that "the
various stages of development in the division of labour are just so many
different forms of ownership" [op.cit.:21 ]. On that basis, three forms of
pre-bourgeois ownership are distinguished, namely "tribal or communal",
"communal and state" (denoting the classical world), and "feudal or
estate". The three types are placed on a linear continuum, with "communal
and state" ownership growing directly out of "tribal" and giving rise to
"feudal".

A very similar model appears in the. Communist Manifesto [1847-8], a

[7] Among the most important historical issues that remain unmentioned
and unproblematised in Marx's historical writings are: the
conventional and readily accepted typification of Athens and Rome as
the main representations of the ancient world (e.g. the use of Athens
as the prototype of the city-state which disregards the problem of
uneven development in the Greek world); the lack of a detailed and
sustained discussion of Greek and Roman imperialism; the total
neglect of the Hellenistic Age; the inadequate reference to the
dissolution of antiquity and the passage to feudalism in Western
Europe; and the absence of any discussion of the problem presented by
the continuation of antique structures in the Eastern Roman Empire
(i.e. Byzantium).
60
joint work mainly of polemic and didactic popularisation. [8] Here the
mechanism of change is closely connected to the direct impact that the
uninterrupted class struggle exerts on history, since "the history of all
hitherto existing society is the history of class struggle" [op.cit.:35].
Accordingly, all reference to the "tribal stage" is dropped and the first
type is represented by classical antiquity (in its developed form, i.e.
"the slave society of antiquity") which precedes feudalism and bourgeois
society.

It is not until the drawing of the Grundrisse [1857-8] [9] that

classical antiquity ceases to be the only mode of movement out of the
primitive communal system. The ancient type constitutes here only one
among four possible alternative paths out of primitiveness, alongside,
that is, the Asiatic, Germanic and the "somewhat shadowy" [Hobsbatn,
1964:32] Slavonic forms. These are nonetheless implicitly differentiated
in terms of their dynamism; this is so because the Grundrisse establishes
a "historically crucial" distinction between "ystems which resist and
those which favour historical evolution", or whose structures carry within "
them an "evolutionary potential" [ibid:33] The main antithesis in this
respect is between the 'dynamic' ancient form and the 'static' Asiatic type.

In the 1859 Preface the Germanic and Slavonic types disappear but the
Asiatic type is retained without, however, its distinctively alternative
(to antiquity) character being retained. Thus, a prima facie reading
identifies Asiatic society as placed in a linear continuum before the
classical ancient type: "In broad outlines Asiatic, ancient, feudal and
modern bourgeois modes of production can be/ designated as progressive
epochs in the economic formation of society" [op.cit.:l82].

[8] This character of the Communist Manifesto does not of course exclude
it from the framework of analysis, since, as Lefort [1978:617]
observes, "the problematics of history which it outlines roughly are
also to be found - at times implicitly, at times explicitly - in
Marx's great theoretical works."
[9] And especially that part " of it entitled Formen die der
Kapitalistischen Produktion vorhergehen [Grundrisse:471-514] which
was first published in English witn an introduction by Hobsbawm
[1964].
61
 Lastly, in Engels's Origin [1884], although there is no explicit mention
of a periodisation model, there are references only to the communal,
antique and feudal systems, with the Asiatic type being dropped 'modo
tatarico', to use Wittfogel's expression.

These are, very briefly, the various phases of periodisation. The main
distinction is between, on the one hand, those of the writings prior to the
Grundrisse (plus Engels's Origin) in which class society is presumed to
pass through the successive stages of antiquity, feudalism and capitalism
(i.e. the unilinear model); [10] and, on the other, the Grundrisse model
whose major innovation is the inclusion of the Asiatic form as an
alternative path of development. It is in the context of this distinction
that the issue of Europocentrism will be raised, so that the place of
classical antiquity can be subsequently evaluated and its theoretical
implications explored.

The understanding of the problem of Europocentrism requires that we

return, once more, to the exceptional position of capitalism in Marx's
conception of history. Since capitalism is regarded as a unique point in
history, so indeed must be its immediate line of ancestry, its
characteristically Occidental lineage, running from the classical world
through European feudalism. From such a developmental perspective, then,
the issue of the privileged and unique position of capitalism is
translated, when transferred onto past history, into that of the
uniqueness of its origin. The question of the genealogy of capitalism thus
occupies the centre of attention in historical analysis by virtue of the
fact that -capitalism is postulated as the summation of the process of
development.

It is in such a context in which the 'uniqueness of the West' is

paramount because of the Occidental lineage of the capitalist telos that
the importance of classical antiquity becomes obvious. The Graeco-Roman
world constitutes the fons et origo of capitalist society;it is its
determinate progenitor, the incipient point of development at which the

[10] Known also as the 'five-stage model' since it recognises five

successive stages in all, namely communalism, antiquity, feudalism,
capitalism and socialism.
62
driving tendencies that eventually give rise to capitalism are to be
discovered and the presence of the latter's embryonic seed to be confirmed.
In the logic of the developmental model in which, as we have seen, the
series assumes its own theoretical effectivity, the concentration of
analysis on what is seen as the point of the inception of the telos should
reveal the course of subsequent development. This, or what may be called
"the quest for the origin", [11] is but the by-product of a theory of
development preraissed on the endogenous paradigm which treats change as
the emergence of traits or the realisation of the latent potentialities
than an entity is presumed to carry within itself from its inception.

On the basis of these preliminary remarks, Europocentrism in Marx's

writings may imply two things. It may mean, on the one hand, that the
conception of historical development and its typological hierarchy are
dominated by the notion of a universal sequence and direction, patterned
on the historical experience of the West. Or, on the other hand, it may
imply that the central attributes of Marx's conception of history (i.e.
development as endogenous, continuous and cumulative) are drawn from and
applicable only to the West, with the non-European world remaining outside
the postulated dynamic historical framework. Both versions obtain because
of the presence of both unilinear and multilinear periodisation schemes.

In the case of the unilinear [12] model, Europocentrism manifests

itself in the more or less direct form of the assumption that the
Occidental line- r of development which led to therjemergence of capitalism
constitutes the developmental prototype for all humanity. History in this
case consists of a single sequence of universally occurring phases of
development which have been or will eventually be experienced by all
peoples. The presumed universality of the prescribed unilinear course of
development is, however, characterised by the ultimate direction that it

[11] The phrase was coined by Moore [1960: 811] to describe this tendency
in most developmental theories of change.
[12] "The term unilinear is used here ... not in its technical sense,
indicating an unbroken curve oft a graph, but rather to convey the
idea of a single, universally occurring sequence" [Sawer, 1977: 73n].
Cf., also, Habermas [1979: 139] who sees the unilenear model as
setting down the "necessary, uninterrupted, and progressive
development of a macrosubject" [emphasis omitted].
63
has followed in the West, namely capitalist society. Accordingly, the only
types allowed in the hierarchy are those preceding capitalism, namely
classical antiquity and feudalism. This, the more straightforward and
crudest manifestation of Europocentrism, can be found in most nineteenth-
century theories of social development and evolution and constitutes what
Gellner [1964:15; 27-9] calls the "fallacy of the Gauls"; it rests on the
conviction that the course of European history, which is taken as the
manifestation of the highest form of historical development,, is, directly -
and universally applicable to the non-Western part of humanity too. Global
history is thereby generally subsumed under the European developmental
pattern.

The multilinear model, on its part, appears to contain europocentric

elements under a different and more sophisticated guise. At first sight,
what seems to be put forward is a schema predicating mainly two, different,
independent, and ostensibly equal in theoretical significance, lines of
development; this could lead one to believe that the europocentric marks
of the pre-Grundrisse model have been expunged. Yet, what is actually
designated is, on the one hand, the 'typical' (i.e. dynamic and self-
propelled) Occidental course that leads, through antiquity and feudalism,
to capitalism thus 'confirming' the central assumptions of the"
developmental model; and, on the other, an 'interrupted' line of development
represented by Asiatic society, which remains stagnant and which,
consequently, serves to accommodate the history of the non-Occidental
(hence non-typical, non-conforming to the postulated developmental
principles) part of humanity, a history that remains a 'dead-end'. [13]

But if the multilinear model really denies Asia any developmental

capability because of its supposed "unchangeability" [Capital I:M79]; if,
in other words, it merely echoes Hegel [1944:105] in pronouncing Asia's

[13] Notions about the 'particularism' of Asia had of course been

widespread in European thought well before Marx's time, and at least
since Montesquieu. The precedence in Marx's case may be said to have
been set by Hegel who had advocated the idea of the statism of the
East. In Hegel's conception of history as the development of the
consciousness of freedom, the Eastern nations had not been able to
progress to the stage achieved in the West since only one man, the
despotic ruler, enjoyed freedom and all the Oriental world knew of it
was expressed as the despot's whim.
64
passage in time an "unhistorical history"; then it is hard to see how it
can be any lese europocentric than its unilinear counterpart. The dynamic
course of development modelled on the Western historical experience is
what counts for history proper, i.e. for history as described by the
developmental theory itself. And, consequently, the Asiatic 'exception'
cannot be said to be a truly alternative route of genuine development,
precisely because the very possibility of a Western-type development is in
its case negated. As,Godelier [1978:217] sums it up, Asia seemed to Marx
"to escape the 'necessity of history' because it did not reproduce the
necessity of Western history." Yet, if this is indeed the case, then the
Asiatic form does not complement but merely supplements the developmental
logic by accommodating those instances of the historical past that elude
it. The very 'genuineness' of the multilinear!ty of the model is therefore
called into question. Does it constitute a real advance on the previous,
overtly europocentric, unilinear schema? Is it, in other words, a truly
multilinear and "open" [Sawer, 1977:226] model of development? Or does the
shift from the casting of Occidental history as a universal template
(unilinearism) to-its .typification as historically unique and dominant
(multilinearism) also overshadow, in its own way, all non-European cases,
and preclude their proposition as genuinely alternative developmental
routes?

These questions become more pertinent as we come to the theoretical

relationship of the Asiatic type to its immediate dynamic counterpart, i.e.
the classical ancentr-typevlt is here that doubts are cast on the former's
conceptual autonomy': is the Asiatic type a concept designated to explain
a specific mode of development or is it implicitly conceived and intended
as a supplementary conceptual appendix to the antique type which
designates a dynamic society par excellence? To ask the same thing in more
concrete terms, are the social forms thought to be ruled by the Asiatic
poae of production"my~""defined on the basis of their non-Western
character? [14] Are they, in other words, primarily specifiable in a
negative manner, that is, by reference to their dissimilarity to

[14] This seems to be borne out by the fact that Marx appears to think
that pre-Columbian American civilisations, such as those of Mexico
and Peru (hardly Asiatic but not European either) are also
characterised by the Asiatic mode of production [cf. Grundrisse: 473]
65
Occidental forms and especially their precursor, classical antiquity? Is,
then, the Asiatic type, first and foremost, a 'concept in juxtaposition*,
that is, a concept designed to theoretically accommodate all instances
that are not readily susceptible to the postulated principles of
development? Is it a concept 'not in its own right', as it were, but useful
primarily for its supplementary theoretical function as the static
counterpart to history's natural dynamic path of development as
represented by the ancient form? Is the_Ajsiatia._fcype" "chiefly employed",
as LichtheiTn [1963:158] asks, "to bring out the contrast between Oriental
society and Graeco-Roman antiquity"?

This is indeed the immediate impression one has; the Asiatic type
appears as a 'concept apart' or a 'concept in juxtaposition' as Avineri
explains:

while it is obvious from the structure of the Marxian system

that the three familiar modes [i.e. ancient, feudal, capitalist
-PL] are dialectically related, the 'Asiatic' mode of production
seems to stand apart from the others ... Each successive stage
stand's both historically and conceptually in a dialectical
relationship to the one preceding it and makes no sense except
in this particular context. Yet the Asiatic mode of production
does not fit into this systematic exposition; nowhere ... does
Marx imply that the 'Asiatic' mode of production is integrated
into the dialectical series of the' other modes ... [Avineri,
1969:4].

Thus, despite the explicit dynamism of Marx's theory of history, his

multilinear model seems to be an uneasy blend of two sets of disparate
elements, namely:

a sophisticated, carefully worked out schema describing the

historical dynamism of European societies, rather simple-
mindedly grafted upon a dismissal of all non-European forms of
society under the blanket designation of a mere geographic
terminology of the 'Asiatic' mode of production which appears
static, unchanging, and totally non-dialectical [ibid].

It is precisely this disparity that renders credence to the view that

europocentric elements do persist in Marx's multilinear model too. Only
what took place in the West is identified with development proper; and,
inversely, the conception of the principles of that development are drawn
from the European historical experience alone.

66
 With these reservations about the presence of Europocentrism in mind,
let us look into what unilinearisra and multllinearism entail in relation
to the problem of endogeny, the growth of productive forces and the
determinate link between base and superstructure. First, then, what is most
conspicuous by its absence in both unilinear and multilinear typologies is
that the level of the development of productive forces is nowhere
explicitly used as the differentiating criterion between the various
precapitalist forms. As far as the unilinear model is concerned, what is
undoubtedly implied is indeed the assertion that the passages from
communalism to antiquity and from antiquity to feudalism are moments of
the progressive continuum of history. But the three forms are not
distinguished or ranked according to their differential levels of
productive growth; 'the only real contrast in productive terms is that
between capitalism and all its predecessors. But what of the Grundrisse
where the unilinear model is abandoned and a new schema emerges, a schema
whose multilinear!ty consists precisely in the delineation of four
.,._ alternative routes out of the primitive commune? None of these is
predetermined by any criteria based on the degree of productive advance
since none is said to correspond to different levels of the growth of the
forces of production. The conditions that determine the emergence of one
or the other of these forms are not expressed in terms of differential
degrees of productive advance and, consequently, the forces of production
*
cannot be pronounced as the constituting principle of development or as
the ranking criterion.

But if multilinear!ty places the determination of the four alternative

types outside the immediate jurisdiction of the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production, then what are the relevant criteria that apply to
their differentiation? This is the question that constitutes the crux of
the "periodisation drama" [Godelier, 1970:216] in the debate of the
multilinear model, and which pertains not so much to the problem of the
chronological succession of, as to that of the logical relation between
the various designated types. The attempt to provide an answer to it
presents us with almost insuperable difficulties emanating from the
relevant literature itself; the transition from the tribal communal type
is presented in the Grundrisse as following a number of alternative routes
but the mechanism of this transition receives disappointingly cursory

67 ; '
treatment. We shall nonetheless try to assemble the few relevant
references, however obscure, to the conditions that, are supposed to
dictate the following up of one or the other of these alternative 'ways
out1 of primitive communal ism. These references are made' either in the
general and abstract sense or, more concretely, in relation to the most
problematical of those types, namely the Asiatic one.

Speaking of the multilinear way out of tribalism, Marx declares that

these different forms of the commune ... depend partly on the

natural inclinations of the tribe, and partly on the economic
conditions in which it relates as proprietor to the land and
soil in reality, i.e. in which it appropriates its fruits through
labour, and the latter will itself depend on climate, physical
make-up of the land and soil, the physically determined mode of
its exploitation, the relation with hostile tribes or neighbour
tribes, and the modifications which migrations, historic
experiences etc. introduce [Grundrisse:486].

A similar remark is also found earlier on in the same work:

the extent to which this original community is modified will

depend on various external, climatic, geographic, physical etc.
conditions as well as on their particular natural
predisposition - their clan character [ibid:lt72]. [15]

Now, all these-attempts to argue the multilinearity of the process of

development out of communalism would appear truistic if it were not for
the fact that they imply a certain dissonance with the endogenous
assumptions that are inherent in the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production as the general principle governing social development. For what
is entailed by the acknowledgment of the determining importance of
geographic and ecological agents (e.g. "climate", "physical make-up of the
land and soil", "the physically determined mode of its exploitation", etc.)
as well as of contingent inter-social factors (e.g. "relation with hostile
tribes", etc.) and even racial particularities (e.g. "natural
predisposition", "natural inclinations of the tribe") is an implicit
dissociation from the logic of historical explanation based on the assumed

[15] For a similar remark, cf. Capital I: 472: "Different communities find
different means of production and different means of subsistence in
their natural environment. Hence their modes of production and
living, as well as their products, are different."
66
inherent tendency on the part of the productive forces towards uniform and
incessant growth.

The emphasis laid on the physical environment is nowhere more

pronounced than in Marx's conception of the Asiatic form. [16] It is in it
that the stress is squarely placed on the geographical particularities of
the Orient; particularities which are thought of as having generated a
whole series of distinctive features and are therefore to largely account
for Asia's exceptionally 'static' social structure. Thus, for instance, the
extensiveness of territory in the Orient is seen as the major cause of the
dispersal of population which, in turn, resulted in the self-sufficiency
and static reproduction of the Asiatic village commune by impeding contact
and interchange and by placing insurmountable obstacles to the emergence
of private property. The stress on the propinquity of the environment also
includes the irrigation needs peculiar to the Orient; these necessitated
the emergence of an agency above the village commune, endowed with divine
or semi-divine powers, which was the only force capable of seizing the
economic initiative by undertaking the provision of public works of
irrigation, thereby safeguarding the necessary conditions of production.
This agency, namely the Asiatic State, reacted, in turn, back on the
communal production units above which it stood, by monopolising the land
and thereby precluding the emergence of private property and perpetuating
the 'unchangeable' social structure of Asia. [17]

[16] The most extensive discussion of the Asiatic mode of production by

Marx occurs of course in the Grundrisse: 471-98; see, also, Marx to
Engels [June 14, 1853: 79-80] on the absence of private property in
land in Asia. Opinions dissent over the relative length and
sophistication of Marx's treatment of the Asiatic type, usually
according to the unilinear or multilinear exegetical preferences of
the individual commentator; thus, for example, Shapiro [1962: 283]
stresses what he sees as the brevity and skimpiness of Marx's
analysis of the Asiatic mode, while Melotti [1977: 11] argues that
this was quite extensive and elaborate.
[17] Yet the very coming into existence of such an agency to which so many
properties and functions are attributed (wide economic powers,
technical innovation, -the required imposition of labour co-operation,
etc.) is a contradiction to the purported 'unchangeability* of Asiatic
society. The concept of the Asiatic mode of production, to which the
notion of a despotic authority is central, implies therefore, as
Lefort [1978: 634] rightly points out, "both that there is and that
there is not change with the formation of the State."
69
 What is most striking in Marx's elaboration of the distinctive features
of the Asiatic type is the disproportionality between the emphasis laid on
the importance of the geographical milieu in its case and the almost total
lack of similar references in the case of its classical antique
counterpart. The very delineation of these types bears this out, as
Welskopf [1981:243] rightly observes; whereas the ancient type is a "time-
related" concept (i.e. classical antiquity, the Graeco-Roman world), its
antipode is designated in purely "geographical" terms (i.e. Asiatic,
Oriental society). Such a disproportionality is open to two disjunctive
interpretations. On the one hand, it may be taken as a confirmation of the
unavoidable suspicions about the europocentric character of Marx's
multilinear model. Because of the typification of the Occidental ancient
type as the 'natural' path of development, Asia's different developmental
route has to be explained away by ad hoc recourse to geographical
particularities. According to this possible interpretation, Oriental
history does not conform to the endogenous logic of development because
its spatial setting happens to be 'exceptional' or 'atypical'. On the other
hand, however, the disproportionality in the references to the physical
environment may be seen as implying that an antithetical spatial setting
has been taken into account in the case of classical antiquity too, only
this time by default, so to speak. The difference between the two
propositions is a subtle but crucial one. If the second one is the case,
then the 'particularism' of the geography of Asia implies also the
'particularism' of the geography of the West; the former is no more of an
'exception' than the latter. Both express the distinctive features in each
case but neither is privileged with the attribute of 'typicality' or
'normalcy'. On that basis, "Marx's whole analysis of the differing
development of East and West" does indeed rest "on the use of the
geographical factor as an explanatory variable" [Sawer, 1977:107], [18]
but such a use, despite contravening the requirements of the endogenous
paradigm, is not necessarily totally one-sided or europocentric. Its
absence in the case of the classical world may be explained by the fact
that it is the lineage of capitalism that Marx is primarily concerned with
and reference is accordingly made only to the differential (but no longer

[18] Cf., also, Struve [1965: 42-4].

70
'peculiar', 'atypical' or 'exceptional') features of the type which lies
outside that lineage. [19]

This interpretation, even if it were to hold, would not of course

totally expunge ;the europocentric impression from Marx's historical
thinking. It would, nevertheless, help to elucidate why Marx, in his
multilinear model, departs, even by implication, from the endogenous
principles of his general theory of history, without at the same time
doing so in an ad hoc manner, i.e. only in order to explain one-sidedly the
anomaly that Asia presents to his analysis. The implications of this
interpretation are evident; the expansiveness of territory in Asia is
counterbalanced by the narrowness of space in the Eastern Mediterranean,
the birthplace of ancient civilisation, which ensured the cohesion of
population and discouraged its fragmentation and dispersal. [20] There
even exists a remarkably explicit passage in Capital 1:647-9, where Marx
remarks that the tropical climate proved to be an impediment to the
increase of social productivity in Asia, in contrast to the temperate zone
in Europe which favoured such growth. It is instances like these, where
'symmetrical' references to the different physical conditions between East
and West are made, which suggest that "to Marx, some natural circumstances
are at least a necessary condition of a particular social development"

[19] Such a 'symmetrical' interpretation is of course open to an inversion

of the 'typicality' or 'normalcy* of the ancient .type and the
characterisation of the West as an 'exception'. This, the most"radical
abrogation of Europocentism, was attempted by F. Tokei, for whom "the
course of development typical for countries having the Asian mode of
production was an example of the natural evolution of the primitive-
communal mode of production" and to whom it was the classical antique
route that was in need of "special examination" [Vitkin et al., 1965:
47].
[20] The lack of land superfluity, which, in contrast to the vastness of
the Asian plateaus, is the principal physical characteristic of the
Eastern Mediterranean, has not received much attention by^ Marxist
scholars - primarily because of the codification of endogeny in
orthodox Marxism - except from some notable exceptions [e.g. Anderson,
1974a: 20-1]. By contrast it haa been a central feature in much of the
non-Marxist scholarship on the subject. Thus, for instance, Ehrenberg
[1969: 6, 10] stresses the significance of the absence of large
expanses of territory in Greece whose main localities are bound by
land and sea, in his explanation of the rise of the specific form of
social and political organisation in antiquity, namely that of the
city-state. And Runciman [1982: 366] takes up the same point too by
emphasising the fact that "Greece was an area of sharp 'ecotones'".
Cf., also, Austin et al. [1977: 50-1].
71
[Kolakowski, ; 1:97:8:352] and confirm the suggestion that he is often
prepared to depart, albeit in an implicit and inadequate form, from the
endogenous principles of his general theory of history.

But let us return to the questions of unilinearism and multilinearism.

As has been already mentioned, Engels's Origin is a return back to the pre-
Grundrisse unilinear model since the Asiatic type is ignored and the
classical antique form is constituted, once more, as the sole prototype of
development out of the primitive commune. It has been suggested [cf., e.g.,
Shaw, 1978:118] that this regression was not confined to Engels alone but
included Marx as well, because his late outlook had also become more
unilinear under Morgan's spell. There does not, however, appear to be any
textual substantiation of such a claim. And, although it is possible that
Marx may have been wavering between the two models, [21] we nevertheless
find him retaining an undiluted multilinear stance as late as 1881 :

does this mean that the development of the land commune must
necessarily follow the same lines under all circumstances?
Certainly not. Its constitutive form allows the following
alternatives:^either the element of private property implied in
it gains the upper hand over the collective element, or vice
versa. Everything depends upon the historical background in
which it finds itself ... Both these solutions are possible a
priori, but both obviously require entirely different
historical environments [First Draft of Letter to V.
Zasulich:! 56].

If Marx's stance in the post-Grundrlsse period remains a controversial

issue, Engels's Origin presents us with a more straightforward picture; in
it the return to unilinearism is undisputed, since classical antiquity is
advanced as the sole paradigm of the demise of the pre-class communal
epoch. How is this regression to be explained, especially when there is no
evidence that Engels had ever disagreed with Marx's views on Asia and when
it has even been established that Engels had some priority in explaining
the origins of the propertyless character of Oriental society and in
stressing the importance of climatic conditions and of irrigation

[21 ] For a survey of the views expressed on the possible relapse of Marx
from multilinearism to unilinearism, see Korana3hvill [1980: 2^9-50].
72
needs? [22] A two-fold explanation for the abandonment of the Asiatic type
by Engels is possible. The first reason is that Engels may have excluded
Asia from his field of analysis on outright europocentric grounds,
regarding Western history as the prototype of development under which all
individual cases would sooner or later be subsumed. The second reason is
less simple and concerns the awkward presence of the Oriental state within
the orthodox Marxist schema of analysis. According to the
Base/Superstructure Model, the state is the superstructural epiphenomenon
of an economic infrastructure ridden by class divisions and antagonistic
relations of production. And, indeed, the major tenet of Engels's analysis
of the genesis of the Greek state in the Origin is precisely the
presentation of the State as co-extensive with class, with economic
divisions in society. Against this orthodox portrayal of state-origin,
however, the Asiatic state stands out as an anomaly. For one, it is
unaccompanied by class divisions since it stands above an
undifferentiated communal social structure. Besides, its origin and
function are largely defined by the^particular physical needs engendered
by geography. '"

But the fate of an anomaly is not always or necessarily suppression; it

can also be 'normalised'. This is indeed the aim of Godelier's attempt -to
rehabilitate' the idea of the Asiatic mode as a viable analytical concept
from its defunct state of being regarded as "a moment of aborted
creativity" [Gouldner, 1980:324] by generations of Marxists. [23] The
reason reference is made here of "Godelier's proposal is because it
involves the ancient type in its considerations. Godelier's argument
consists in stripping the semper idem of the 'East' from the concept of
the Asiatic mode of production in the belief that the latter is "of
considerably broader historical and geographical scope than Marx
believed" [Godelier, 1965:393. Godelier universalises the concept by
regarding it as a stage prior and giving rise to classical antiquity in

[22] Cf. Sawer [1977: 44], where the original patrimony of the concept of
the Asiatic mode is traced to Engels; see, esp., Engels to Marx [June
6, 1853: 76-7].
[23] For a survey and bibliography of the vicissitudes of the concept of
the Asiatic mode of production in Marxism, see Bailey et al. [1974]
and [1975]. See also Bailey [1981] and Sawer [1977: esp. chs II-V].
73
the West while continuing to survive unchanged in the East. To this end, he
also makes use of Morgan's concept of "military democracy" as an
intermediate but universal stage between the primitive communal and the
fully-fledged ancient types [cf. Godelier, 1978: 231-5] and seeks
additional support for his claim in the centralised and bureaucratic
kingdoms of the Cretan and Mycenaean worlds which he filiates directly to
the Asiatic state. [24]

Godelier's proposal for the 'normalisation of the Asiatic anomaly by

means of its incorporation in an amended form into a re-constituted
unilinear model is not commonly shared by Marxist students [25] nor can it
1

be judged by the texts of Marx himself, since it takes place in the context
of his calling for the "development of Marxism" rather than a "return to
Marx" [Godelier, 1978:213]. There are, however, two instances in Marx's own
writings which can be read as allowing for the reestablishment of a
sophisticated unilinear model along the lines suggested by Godelier. The
first of those.is not exactly a textual substantiation of such a claim, as
much as an 'absence' which, however, leaves ample room for it; in the 1859
Prefaced 82 Marx speaks of the Asiatic, ancient, etc. modes as "progressive
epochs" with no other differentiating criterion between them except their
serial succession. Much more important, still, is a footnote in Capital I
which reads as follows:

Peasant agriculture on a small scale and production by

independent artisans, ... form the economic foundation of the
communities of classical antiquity at their best period, after
the primitive oriental system of common ownership of land had
disappeared ... [op.cit.:452~3n; emphasis added]

The passage was subsequently altered in the first English edition of

,__, .
[24] "Did not the Greeks and Romans, in acquiring kings, acquire a European
form of the Asian mode of production - a social organisation, in
which village communes are ruled by the tribal aristocracy?"
[Godelier, 1965: 40].
[25] Cf., for instance, Welskopf [1981: 246] who rejects the idea that the
Asiatic mode can be taken as a primitive stage of classical
antiquity. And, also, Mandel [1971: 128] who regards the Oriental
semper id^rvi of the concept as absolutely indispensable, for, "if the
idea of the asiatic mode of production is stripped from its specific
meaning, it can no longer explain the special development of the East
in comparison with Western and Mediterranean Europe". Cf., also,
Melotti [1977: 14-8].
74
Capital I which was preared under the general supervision of Engels; the
adjective "oriental" was omitted in the translation, a fact which,
combined with the subsequent absence of the Asiatic type in Engels's
Origin, testifies to its suppression after Marx's death. [26]

The literature on the emergence of the classical world is, with the
exception of Engels's Origin, sketchy and unsystematic. The first reference
to the terminus a quo of the classical era dates from The German Ideology
[18^5-6], where the world of antiquity is seen as springing directly out
of tribalism. With no detailed references to specific studies of primitive
societies or other anthropological works, the tribal stage is itself
subdivided into three substages corresponding to hunting and fishing, the
rearing of animals, and to simple agriculture. This progression implies
for Marx and Engels an increasing division of labour which, slowly but
inexorably, alters the nature of primitive social relations. Initially, the
social unit is represented by the family and kinship and characterised by
communal"property. The family unit, however, contains within itself the
seeds of exploitation in the male's capacity to control the labour of
women and children. This "slavery latent in the family" [op.cit.:21-2] in
turn entails the emergence of private property since exploitation of
labour and exclusion from access to the means of production are treated as
two sides of the same coin. [27] The incipient inequality within the
family is gradually spread over the whole community; with the growth in
the density-of population, and the extension of inter-social contacts,
distribution between commoners and chieftains develops and slavery is
also extended beyond the familial confines. The physiognomy of the
classical era is completed with the formation of cities that arise through
voluntary tribal mergers or conquest. Land and slaves are initially held
in common but private ownership, originally in movable possessions and
eventualliTTiT^land [cf.ibid:77], soon begins to assert itself and is

[26] On the editorial 'massage* of this passage, see the paper by Thorner
[1966].
[27] "Division of labour and private property are, ..., identical
expressions: in the one the same thing is affirmed with reference to
activity as is affirmed in the other with reference to the product of
the activity" [German Ideology: 3**].
75
finally consolidated with the further development of the division of
labour, a3 this is exemplified in the rise of the antagonism between town
and country and the growing separation of manufacture from agriculture
[cf.ibid:52].

This schematic and simplified account is followed by a long period of

silence, broken only in 1857-8 with the Grundrisse notes. Here, too, we seem
to start with a similar early evolutionary stage which is roughly
described as "tribal" andd-i-v-ided into three substages; hunting,
pastoralism (which Marx, following the accepted view of the time, thought
of as always preceding settlement), and settled agriculture [cf. op.cit;:
472]. In the last substage, the land is originally held communally on the
basis of kinship relations but no mention is made of the mechanism whereby
the emergence of private property occurs and the passage from the tribal
to the ancient form is effected. This absence is particularly wanting in
the Grundrisse because, in its multilinear model, classical antiquity is
only one among several alternative routes into class society.

It is with the publication, in 1867, of L.H. Morgan's Ancient Society

that Marx's interest in anthropology is revived and receives new
inspiration. Although his copious notes on Morgan did not materialise into
a study of the genesis of class "society and the only concrete and
systematic work to have come out of them is Engels's Origin, it is
necessary to refer briefly to Morgan's work and the momentous impact it
had on both Marx and Engels. Morgan's was the most elaborate and
comprehensive of contemporary evolutionist schemes in anthropology for it
embraced a wide spectrum of institutions in a single developmental frame.
Morgan envisaged human history as consisting of three major ethnical
periods, namely, Savagery, Barbarism, and Civilisation, of which the first
two were divided into subperiods (i.e. 'lower', 'middle', and 'upper').
Savagery and Barbarism and their subdivisions were classed along
hierarchical lines based on the level of productive capacity and
technological innovations. Thus, the passage from the lower to the middle
stage of Savagery is effected by the discovery of fire and the transfer of
diet from fruit and nut to fish subsistence; the upper stage is
characterised by the invention of the bow and arrow; while the transition
to the lower stage of Barbarism is marked by the introduction of pottery.

76
Accordingly, the following two stages of Barbarism feature the
domestication of animals, cereal cultivation and irrigation (middle stage)
and the manufacture of iron tools. Morgan's taxonomy on the basis of
productive advances was meant to encompass a corresponding ascendancy of
family types (broadly the consanguine, patriarchal, and monogamian) and
forms of social and political organisation (from gentile democracy based
on communalism to the institution of a state apparatus as the result of
the growth of social divisions).

The appeal Morgan's theory exercised on Marx and, subsequently, on

Engels, was manifold. First, there was Morgan's novelty of suggesting
mechanisms which explained why one stage should change into another. What
is more, this proposed mechanism of breakdown and transformation of forms
of social organisation was geared to an explanatory logic based on
productive innovations which closely resembled the Dialectic of Forces
and Relations of Production; for what Morgan's evolutionary schema implied
was the idea that, as a system of technology (e.g. animal domestication and
herd formation) developed, it gradually became incompatible with the whole
net of social relations, especially with those of inheritance, familial
authority and political organisation. This determinist streak in Morgan's
thinking, which.for many commentators was its weakest feature, [28] held a
further attraction for Marx and Engels in that what they were able to
discern in the Ancient Society was a uniform and all-encompassing
developmental logic applied to the early history of mankind which
approximated their own conception of change.

There were, however, additional reasons which contributed to Marx's and

Engels's sympathetic reception of Morgan's ideas. These were not purely
theoretical but may be broadly termed as 'polemical' in that they provided
helpful anthropological argumentation to the critique of capitalist

[28] Cf., e.g., Harris [1969: 184]: "The most important lapses to which
attention should be drawn, ..., are those involving Morgan's evident
failure to discover a systematic relationship between techno-
economic and social parameters."
77
society. [29] Both Marx and Engels were always in search for material that
would aid their attempt to disprove representations of contemporary
institutions (e.g. private property, the family, the state) by philosophy
and political economy as sacrosanct, eternal and immutable, as the
repositories of natural or divine justice, or even as having some extra-
social origin. They were therefore eager to welcome any anthropological or
historical endeavour purporting to show that bourgeois institutions were
themselves historically specific, temporally determined and changeable, by
concentrating on institutions as different from those of contemporary
society as possisble. This quest for scholarship that would confirm the
transcendental nature of every social order was undoubtedly satisfied to a
large extent by Morgan's book. It is not, then, surprising that political
and critical overtones and conclusions abound in the Origin which was,
above all else, the product of the assimilation of Morgan's Ancient Society
and Marx's notes on it:

The state is, therefore, by no means a power forced on society

from without; just as little is it "the reality of the ethical
idea", "the image and reality of reason", as Hegel maintains.
Rather, it is the product of society at a certain stage of
development; it is the admission that this society has become
entangled in an insoluble contradiction with itself, that it has
split-into, irreconcilable antagonisms which it is powerless to
dispel-'[0rigln:576]. [30]

But most important of all, Morgan's attraction consisted in his

postulation of the gens as the communal predecessor of all human history.
According to Morgan, the gens, as the source from which all later kinship
and political systems evolved, was a social unit based on totally
egalitarian and communal principles. All, women and children included, were
equal and free. Property was communal, and the rule of descent followed the

[29] Bloch [1983: 10] makes a similar distinction between the "historical"
and "rhetorical" uses of Morgan by Marx and Engels. And Krder [1972:
11] suggests that one of the elements that endeared Morgan to Marx
was the former's republicanism which contrasted sharply with the
aristocratic leanings of most of the students of early human history,
such as Grote and Mommsen.
[30] Also: "The state, then, has not existed from all eternity. There have
been societies that did without it, that had no idea of the state and
state power" [Origin: 579].
78
mother's line. Leaders were temporary and subject to the will of the
collective. Links between individual gentes (organisation into 'phatries'
and 'tribes') were based on the belief of a common descent and were largely
moral, involving no subordination. It is therefore not difficult to
comprehend why the idea of a communistic past shared by all humanity
exercised such a powerful attraction for Marx and Engels; gentile society
did not know of private property and exploitation, yet it was an ordered
system even though it had no state or classes. It is this notion of the
community in its purest, unadulterated form which lies behind Engels's
enthusiasm when he exclaims that the "grandeur ... of the gentile order was
that it found no place for rulers and ruled" [ibid:566]. And the polemical
and partisan tone of such an enthusiastic acceptance does not take long to
surface; for, once the unquestioned and sacrosanct doctrines preaching the
eternal and immutable character of private property, of classes or of the
state had been disproved, it was easier to sustain prophetic
pronouncements on the reconstitution of society on communistic principles.
Hence, Engels, speaking of the freedom of the gentile past, proclaims that,
"to win it back on the basis of the enormous control man now exercises
over the forces of nature, and of the free association that is now
possible, will be the task of the next generations" [ibid:531]. And, in his
conclusion, the polemical implications of the transcendental character of
social phenomena are fully and unambiguously spelt out:

At a certain stage of economic development, which was

necessarily bound up with the split of society into classes, the
State became a necessity owing to this split. We are now rapidly
approaching a stage in the development of production at which
the existence of these classes not only will have ceased to be a
necessity, but will become a positive hindrance to production.
They will fall as inevitably as they arose at an earlier stage.
Along with them the state will inevitably fall [ibid:579].

This directly polemical dimension in the acceptance of Morgan's

findings may also go some way in explaining the unilinear recrudescence we
observe in the Origin. The powerful attraction exercised by the idea of a
communistic past shared by all humanity may have contributed to the
relatively uncritical assimilation of Morgan's assertions; neither Marx
nor Engels were by any means attempting to set themselves up as experts in
anthropology and their excursion into prehistory was principally

79
motivated by the fact that Morgan's theses provided ready material for
dispelling many widespread and dominant assumptions of bourgeois thinking.
We are thus confronted with the phenomenon that a welcomed assertion (i.e.
that of the 'common past' of humanity) is used by Engels to preempt 3.
series of problematical historical issues:

the gens is an institution common to all barbarians up to their

entry into civilisation and even afterwards - this ... cleared up
at one stroke the most difficult parts of the earliest Greek and
Roman history [ibid:509].

Morgan's subsumption of all prehistory under universal and unilinear

principles also made smoother the acceptance of some of his less
sustainable assumptions. A result of this is Engels's representation,
supported by a somewhat eclectic use of anthropological evidence, of the
lower stage of Barbarism by the Iroquois Indians (Morgan's test-case) and
of the transitory middle and upper stages by the Greek and Roman cases in
the same continuum of development. This universality of primitive history
is echoed by Marx too when he comments that in "the Grecian gens the
savage (for example, the Iroquois) is unmistakably discerned" [cited in
Origin:522]. It is reproduced, in an even more startling degree, in the
following series of unilinear reductions by Engels:

That the Roman gens was an institution identical with the

Grecian geh3 is a recognised fact; if the Grecian gens was a
continuation of the social unit the primitive form of which is
presented by the American Redskins, then the same, naturally,
holds good for the Roman gens. Hence, we can be more brief in its
treatment [ibid:537].

80
 4. THE ANCIENT RELATIONS OF PRODUCTION

*l.1 The Constitution of the Ancient Relations of Production

The commune - as state - is, on one side, the relation of these

free and equal private proprietors to one another, their bond
against the outside, and is at the same time their safeguard. The
commune here rests as much on the fact that its members consist
of working landed; proprietors, small-owning peasants, as the
peasants' independence rests on their mutual relations as
commune members, oh protection of the ager publicus for communal
needs and communal glory etc. Membership in the commune remains
the presupposition for the appropriation of land and soil, but,
as a member of the commune, the individual is a private
proprietor [Grundrisse:475].

This i3, according to Marx, the essential relation binding the immediate
producer to his means of production, namely, the fact that he relates to
the land as his private property only as a member of the community, "as to
his being as commune member" [ibid]. This community is constituted on the
level of the ancient city-state, the polis characteristic of the early
phase of classical antiquity. The polis thus implies much more than a
simple congregation of farmers and landowners.. The urban commune has a
real and independent existence beyond the mere aggregate of the individual
households which make it up. This existence is demonstrated, physically, in
the fact that it is the residential node of concentration for the rural
population. And also in the presence of the communal or state property
(i.e. the ager publicus) and other state institutions (e.g. assembly,
magistrates, etc.) and of what these institut-ions--imply, namely the
communality of interest towards the outside and the participatory duties
of its members - "in short of the municipality, and thus of politics in
general" [German Ideology;52]. This independent existence of the polis is
borne out by Marx's contrast of it to the mere periodic or incidental
congregation of farmers in the Germanic type which lacks this distinctly
classical antique political dimension and substance:

R1
 With its coming-together in the city, the commune possesses an
economic existence as such; the city's mere presence, as such,
distinguishes it from a mere municipality of independent houses.
The whole, here, consists not merely of its parts. Among the
Germanic tribes, [however -PL], the commune exists, already from
outward observation, only in the periodic gathering-together
[Vereinigung] of the commune numbers ... The commune thus appears
as a coming-together [Vereinigung], not as a being-together
[Verein]; as a unification made up of independent subjects,
landed proprietors, and not as a unity. The commune therefore
does not in fact exist as a state or political body, as in
classical antiquity, because it does not exist as a city
Cibid:U83]. [1]

The access of the inependent producer to his private land is, then,
mediated by his being a free citizen, a member of the polis, a position
which involves specific rights and obligations. And, inversely, this
communality is defined as a system of political institutions which allows
the citizens exclusive access to the landed property within a definite
area, "the territorium belonging to the town" [ibid:47O. Property is
therefore defined by participation in a political commune, it is
"quiritorium, of the Roman variety" [ibid:476]: the land is "Roman by
virtue of being the private property, the domain of a Roman", but the
latter "is a Roman only insofar as he possesses this sovereign right over
a part of the Roman earth" [ibid:1)??]. It is therefore the paradox, as Marx
puts it in one of his earlier writings, of "the political constitution"
being "the constitution of private property, but only because the
constitution ot private property [is -PL] political" [Critique of Hegel's
Doctrine of the State:90] that defines the principal relation of
production in antiquity, that of dominium ex jure quiritum.

Citizenship does not only entail a title to the city's territorium, the
right of ownership and possession of the land of the polis. Appropriation
by right of citizenship also includes full participation in the economic

[1] This political substance of the classical urban commune, i.e. of the
ancient polis, is also borne out by Marx's understanding of the
differentia of the commune member in antiquity: "The real meaning of
Aristotle's definition [i.e. of man as a zoon politicon, a political
animal -PL] is that man is by nature citizen of a town. This is quite
as characteristic of classical antiquity as Franklin's definition of
man as a tool-making animal is characteristic of Yankeedom" [Capital
1:444].

82
life of the collectivity, the citizens are entitled to a share in the
communal assets, such as the distribution of booty and tribute, the
provision of state doles etc. They are equally subject, however, to taxes,
liturgies and other appropriations levied by the polis on the citizens
themselves. Appropriation by citizenship right, though, refers also to the
citizens' access to the extraction of non-citizen labour. This is the other
side of the exclusivity inscribed in the rigid definition of citizenship;
indeed, one of the central aspects of the internal cohesion of the polis is
the citizens' unity vis-a-vis the non-citizen population, 3ince "it is in
their community" that the citizens "hold power over their labouring
slaves" [German Ideology:22 3. It is this essentially political definition
of citizenship that determines a specific division of labour between the
citizen and non-citizen population by ascribing political (freedom) and
economic (exclusive access to the land) privileges to the former alone.
And it is the citizens' unity that is the basis of the power necessary for
holding down those who are deprived of such privileges, namely the slaves
and, to a lesser degree, the metics, [2] for their own advantage. [3]

The definition of slavery is a case in point. The slave, in a

diametrically opposite position to that of the citizen, is someone who is
deprived of his liberty and, for this reason, also of ownership of the
means of production. Whereas political freedom and commune membership
determine the citizen's exclusive claim to the principle means of
production (i.e. land), their complete absence defines the economic
position of the slave. His lack of political status, his unfreedom, also

[2] Metics, of whom there is a brief mention in the Grundrisse:501-2>

formed an intermediate category between citizens and slaves. They
were foreigners who settled in Greek poleis (especially Athens) and
engaged in trade and other exchange practices. Although they
maintained_th.ein-personal freedom, they were deprived of citizenship
rights, except from the rare occasions when they were granted
lsopoliteia as a token of recognition of exceptional services
rendered to the polis. Normally, they could not own land, were
excluded from participation in the assembly and Council, could not be
appointed to magistracies, were subject to special taxation (the
metoikion and xenika), and could not enjoy legal protection but only
through Athenian citizens prepared to act as their patrons
(prostates) [cf. Austin et al,, 1977:99-102].
[3] Cf. Padgug [1975:104]: "With respect to metics or slaves the state was
a true state, the rule of a privileged class, but with respect to
citizens it was not because it was identical with them."

8?
subsume slave labour under the objective conditions of production. The
question, however, remains as to how this can be reconciled with the
delineation of a difference between subjective and objective conditions.
It seems, though, that no such reconciliation can be effected for the
simple reason that in production involving slave labour any such
distinction is inapplicable. Rather, the differentiation seems to be
extrapolated from a system of production fundamentally different from the
ancient mode, namely capitalism, in which the dominant and characteristic
form of labour does indeed constitute the subjective condition of
production as Marx saw it. The discrepancy arises when this distinction is
not specified temporally but is rather left with the general implication
that it appertains also outside the capitalist mode from which it is
derived.

The same holds for the overall definition of the ancient relations of
production by Marx which stands in stark contradiction with the economic
reductionism of the uniform causation of his 1859 Preface. For in the case
of antiquity we are confronted with an instance of the manifest inadequacy
of the Base/Superstructure Model to locate the precise determinate nature
of the economy in a system in which it cannot be defined but by reference
to the political content of the ancient relations of production. In Marx's
delineation of the conditions of existence of the ancient mode the lack of
any substantial differentiation between the economic and the political is
so conspicuous as to make the dissonance with his general theory of
history all the more remarkable. The ancient relations qf production, as
conceived by Marx, furnish the most prominent example of politics
determining the main form of economic appropriation. In his Grundrisse,
especially, the restrictive and reductionist causation of the
Base/Superstructure Model is largely, albeit silently, abandoned so that
the ancient economy emerges as "a 'political economy1 in the literal sense"
[Godelier, 1977b:19], with "homo economicus and homo politicus" as "one and
tfce same thing" [Avineri, 1968:114].

It is this particular binary configuration which also defines the

economic rationality of classical antiquity. Because the citizen's
"relation to the objective conditions of production is mediated through
his presence as member of the commune" [Grundrisse: 486], he can maintain
compels him to economic servitude. Therefore, in the same way that commune
membership and freedom are the sine qua non for economic independence,
their absence entails enslavement and total economic subordination. This
fusion of political and economic determinations is irreducible, the
ease/Superstructure Model notwithstanding, because it is t^L that
constitutes for Marx the differentia specifica of the ancient relations of
production. The slave is not only deprived of property and of the ability
to exercise control over the means of production and the product, an
inability he 3hares with the wage-labourer in capitalism. But he is also
deprived of control over his own person and labour, unlike the wage-
labourer who is free and, as such, the sole proprietor of hi3 labour Cef.
Rsulte of the Immediate Process of Production;! 017]. [4] The slave,
precisely due to his unfreedom, i3 but a "labouring machine"
[Grundrisse;464], forming "part of the means of production themselves"
[Capital 1:874]. Because he is in the thrall, he cannot own property and,
because he has no autonomous economic existence, he is unfree. [5]

This irreducibility of the fusion of the political with the economic

brings us back to Marx's general definition of the conditions of labour. As
we saw in Ch.1, Marx distinguishes between subjective and objective
conditions of production, with the former denoting labour-power, and the
latter the means of production. In the case of the ancient relations of
production, however, we find slave labour belonging "to the objective
conditions of production" [Theories of Surplus-Value 111:422], What can
account for that discrepancy? We have seen that the reason Marx views
slave labour in this light is the fact that the slave is deprived of
control over his person and labour and it therefore appears logical to

[4] Hereafter Results.

[5] The point is summed up in the following counterfactual way which
seeks to establish what manumission, i.e. the slave's attainment of
his -freedom, entails: "Legal freedom in Greece is essentially a
concept of property. The sole meaning of freedom is that a man has
jurisdiction over his property and family, and the concept of
manumission is the concept of change of property; a man no longer is
property, but has it. A man's activities can be limited by
restrictions, and he can be subject to burdensome obligations, and
these do not affect his freedom. If a man can own property, he is free,
and if he is free, he can own property. This is the meaning of
manumission" [Samuel, 1965:295].

84
his privileged economic position only by the reproduction of the
conditions of his existence as a citizen, as a free member of the polis.
"Production itself", therefore, "aims at the reproduction of the producer
within and together with these, his objective conditions of existence"
[ibid:495]; unlike those of capitalism, the ancient relations of production
are not geared to the increase of productivity or wealth:

The individual is placed in such conditions of earning his

living as to make not the-acquiring of wealth his object, but
self-sustenance, his own reproduction as a member of the
community; the reproduction of himself as proprietor of the
parcel of ground, and, in that quality, as a member of the
commune [ibld:476]. [6]

Consequently, the survival of the polis community depends on the

maintenance of equality among its members and on the ability of the
individual producer to reproduce the conditions of existence as a citizen
which alone entitles him to land for private use. As Marx puts it, "The
survival of the commune as such in the old mode requires the reproduction
of its members in the presupposed objective conditions" [ibidc^o]. Yet
these reproduction aims are threatened by two closely intertwined factors
which reside within the ancient relations of production themselves.
Continuing the previous sentence Marx remarks that:

Production itself, the advance of population ..., necessarily

suspends these conditions little by little; destroys them
instead of reproducing them etc., and, with that, the communal
system declines and falls, together with the property relations
on which it was based [ibid].

We shall examine the second factor, i.e. "the advance of population", in

the following section which deals with the expansionist character of the
ancient city-state. For the moment, let us concentrate on what this
unqualified inclusion of "production itself" in the above passage
actually means. We saw that Marx disassociates the ancient relations of
production from the notion of an intrinsic drive towards productive

[6] This surfaces in the citizen ideology too: "Do we never find in
antiquity an inquiry into which form of landed property etc. is the
most productive, creates the greatest wealth? Wealth does not appear
as the aim of production ... The question is always which mode of
property creates the best citizens" [Grundrisse:487].

86
increases. What does, then, "production" actually imply in the context of
the ancient social relations? The answer should be sought in the fact
that, under the latter, the "proprietor of land is such only as a Roman, but
as a Roman he is a private proprietor of land" [ibid:476; emphasis added].
Membership in the commune, in other words, may remain the presupposition
for the appropriation of land, but this appropriation, assumes the
character of individual private property. It is this fundamental feature
of the presence of the communal ity as the union, not of an
undifferentiated mass of direct producers, but of individual private
landholders that renders ancient production its unique character. The
presupposition of the unity of the two opposite and mutually exclusive
elements and their continuous struggle with each other is the factor
which, above all else, differentiates classical antiquity from its
temporal counterpart, Asiatic society. In the static social structure of
Asia "the individual has no property but only possession" and "the real
proprietor, proper, is the commune" [ibidi^eO. By contrast, the classical
world is seen as the "product of more active, historic life" [ibid:474]
precisely because it rests on the uneasy symbiosis of two conflicting
elements. On the one hand, the communal ity of the union of the producers in
the polis, which is expressed in the retainment of some land as "communal
property - as state property, ager p.ublicus" [ibid]. [7] And, on the other
hand, the economic presence of these producers as private proprietors. But
the very existence of private property distances, differentiates, the
citizen from the commune, however closely interconnected the two may be;
and contains within itself the potentiality of the commune's destruction.
For, in contrast to the perpetual non-differentiation of the Oriental
commune, in classical antiquity the commune member emerges as an
individual proprietor. But, "if the individual changes his relation to the
commune, he thereby changes and acts destructively upon the commune"
[ibid:486]. Hence the fundamental contradiction inherent in the ancient
relations of production is that between the communal presupposition of
landholding and the particular form that the latter assumes, i.e. private

[7] The commune is "a generality with a be;ng and unity as such .-[seiende
Einheit] either in the mind and in the existence of the city and of
its civic needs as distinct from those of the individual, or in its
civic land and soil as its particular presence as distinct from the
particular economic presence of the commune member" [Grundrisse:484].

87
property in the hands of individual citizens. Property in antiquity

appears in the double form of state ; and private property

alongside one another, but so that the latter appears as posited
by the former, so that only the citizen is and must be a private
poprietor,. while his property as citizen has a separate,
particular existence at the same time ... [ibid].

It is this notion of the contradictory existence of landed property and

the .-consequent- struggle between the centripetal communal and centrifugal
private elements in the polis that forms the analytical basis for Marx's
examination of the distinctive development of classical antiquity. [8]
However, what should be pointed out at the outset is that the location of
this fundamental contradiction as the motive force largely determining
the direction of ancient history is disassociated from any notion of an
independent tendency on the part of the productive forces to grow and
transform the relations of production. Rather, this primary contradiction
is wholly internal to the ancient relations of production; it resides
within their structure and, consequently, it is these very relations that
provide the causes of the evolution of the ancient world. The principle of
private property contains within itself the possibility of the
destruction of the egalitarian basis of the polis communality. As Marx
explains: ~ -"'"

Where there is already a separation between the commune members

as private proprietors Con one side], and they themselves as the
urban commune and proprietors of the commune's territorium [on
the other], there the conditions already arise in which the
individual can lose his property, i.e. the double relation which
makes him both an equal citizen, a member of the community, and a
proprietor [ibid:494]. [9]

The increasing stress on the individual and the correspondingly

[8] "All the important moments of the development in Graeco-Roman, i.e.

antique, society are based upon these two contradictory forms of
property, their unity in opposition and their struggle with each
other" [Tokei, 1979:51 ].
[9] "In the oriental form", by contrast, "this loss [of property -PL] is
hardly possible, ..., since the Individual member of the commune never
enters into the relation of freedom towards it in which he could lose
his (objective, economic) bond with it. He is rooted to the spot,
ingrown" [Grundrisse:^1*].

88
 decreasing importance of the collectivity gradually leads to the
amassment of property (especially in land, but also, eventually, in slaves
and money) by a section of the commune and the expropriation of the rest.
All these developments ultimately destroy the very presupposition of the
ancient relations of production and bring about the decline of the ancient
world.

This brings us to the problem of the social divisions within the

citizen population. For, although the antique form of state as the
organised body of citizens is an invariant condition of the existence of
the ancient mode of production, this in no way precludes the possibility
of exploitation practices among the citizens themselves. The mechanisms
whereby these social divisions are effected are extensively, if not
systematically, examined by Marx and they can be broadly divided into two
categories. First, those connected with the expansionist drives of ancient
society and the rise of imperialism as a class weapon in the hands of the
rich; these are discussed in the following section. And, second, those
emanating from the opposition between the communal and private elements in
the ancient relations of production which will concern us for the moment.
The process by which the class antagonisms within the citizenry developed
ultimately resulted, in combination with the parallel growth of exchange
practices, in the expropriation of the poor citizens from the land and
their replacement by slaves whose influx was secured by imperialist
expansion; these will be the themes of Ch.5 below.

What should be borne in mind in the discussion of Marx's treatment of

the contradiction of communal and private elements of the ancient social
relations is its disproportionality; for Marx concentrates primarily on
t-he most typical and developed case in ancient history, namely that of the
Roman Republic, thereby neglecting to address directly the problems that
arise out of the rather uneven development across the Graeco-ROman"world.
In view of this disproportionality, then, our analysis will have to embark
on the examination of the subject in question by first discussing Marx's
existing remarks on Rome and then moving onto a brief survey of non-Roman
.cases on the basis of Marx's analytical framework, in order to illustrate
more fully his argument. Therefore, it is with a view to the explication of
Marx's own substantive points, rather than any wish to enter into a

89
historiographie critique of. his argument, that reference is to be made to
issues not directly raised by Marx himself.

Despite its typicality, the Roman constitution is characterised by the

particularity of the maintenance of a gradation of political and economic
rights within the citizen body, as expressed in the preservation of
certain privileges by the old Roman nobility [cf., also, Appendix]. The
most significant among those was the patriciate's exclusive privilege, "as
representative of the state" [Grundrisse:485], of being entrusted with the
use of the ager publicus; the "right of using the communal land through
possession originally appertained to the patricians, who then granted it
to their clients" [ibid:477]. [10] This privilege provided the basis for
the gradual amassi ni of landed property by the patricians at the expense
of the plebeians, a process described by Marx's quotation from Appian:

The rich had got possession of the greater part of the undivided
land. They were confident that, in the conditions of the time,
these possessions would never be taken back again from them, and
they therefore bought some of the pieces of land lying near
theirs, and belonging to the poor, with the a-cquiescence of the
latter, and the rest they took by force, so that now they were
cultivating widely extended domains, instead of isolated fields
[Capital I: 888n].

The effects of the patricians' misappropriation of the communal land

for the purpose of enlarging their private holdings -v; the disadvantage of
the poor citizen proprietors were further aggravated by the conscription
of the poor in the Roman army [see next section], taxation, and even forced
services. Due to the formal gradation of political rights, the state
apparatus remained largely at the hands of the patricians who used it
systematically as a means of exploiting the class of the poorer citizens.
The gradual impoverishment of the latter resulted in their becoming
heavily indebted to the wealthy patriciate. Since the freeholder's land
could be used as security for debt and become subject to foreclosure on
default, debt was the main threat to the independence of the poor citizen
producer. This, in view of the extremely harsh laws affecting defaulting

[10] "Since the patrician represents the community in a higher degree, he

is the possessor of the ager publicus and uses it through his clients
etc. (and also appropriates it little by little)" [Grundrisse:478-9].

90
deb cors in Rome, [11] Is the main forra of the class struggle within the
citizenry:

The class struggle in the ancient world, ..., took the form mainly
of a contest between debtors and creditors, and ended in Rome
with the ruin of the plebeian debtors, who were replaced by
slaves [Capital 1:233]. [12]

The situation in Greece, which is not elaborated upon by Marx, provides

U3 with the opportunity to illustrate more clearly the correlation between
the degree of exploitation and antagonism within the citizenry, on the one
hand, and the presence of a developed contradiction between the communal
and private elements in the social structure, on the other. Where private
property has not asserted itself and the communal elements predominate,
the internal class divisions in the citizen population are
correspondingly subdued. A case in point is that of Sparta, at least for
the period prior to the Pelopennesian War. [13] In Sparta the institution
of private property is less developed from that of Athens and other Greek
poleis of the same period and this is accompanied by the unique feature of
the Spartiates constituting a class of non-labourers collectively
exploiting a subject population. The uniqueness of the Spartan
constitution consists exactly of the fact that citizens are not direct
producers and direct producers cannot be citizens. The Spartiates form a
class standing above and ruling over a subjugated helot population, as
well as certain dependent communities of perioeci. [14] The helots were

[11] The most notorious of all being the Law of Twelve Tables which Marx
regards as "worthy of Shylock" [Capital I:400n] because it made the
defaulting debtor liable to sale into slavery abroad.
[12] "Rome's internal history plainly boils down to the struggle between
small and big landed property, with slavery naturally putting its
specific stamp in it. The relations of indebtedness, which played
such an important part since~the origins of Roman history, are only
the natural consequences of small landed property ..." [Marx to
Engels, March 8, 1855: 505-6]. See, also, Capital 1:176n, where the
"secret history" of the Roman Republic is said to be "the history of
landed property".
[13] For the exceptional case of Sparta, see Austin et al. [1977:81-90],
Cartledge [1975], Finley [1975:1 61-77], and. Ste.Croix [1972:ch.IV].
[14] The perioeci possessed local self-government and some citizenship
rights but were not eligible for participation in the affairs of the
Spartan state. On Sparta's -perioeci and helots, see Micheli [1952:64-
84].

91
collectively subjected to the state and toiled the land of Lacedaemon for
the communal benefit of the Spartiates. The latter were regarded as equals
[homoioi] and' were exclusively devoted to warfare. In order that he might
pursue his, military career undistracted, the individual citizen was
granted by the state a certain amount of land [cleros] which a number of
helots were obliged to cultivate for his benefit. Each citizen, in turn,
had to pay subscriptions to the communal syssitia. Although he had
possession over his land and its proceeds by citizenship right and could
not be disposed of it, the cleros was assigned to him from the public lan3~~
and he was not therefore free to dispose of it by sale or will. [15]
Furthermore, he had no right of ownership over the helots assigned to his
plot, who continued t'o be regarded as communal property. The helots were
themselves bound to the land, not to their individual possessor, and had
neither political rights nor freedom of movement. This rather
idiosyncratic organisation, then, inhibited to a very large extent the
development of private property and, consequently, the rise of acute
differences of wealth within the Spartan citizen body. Instead, the main
antagonism was that between the collectivity of the non-labouring
Spartiates and the class of the direct producers who were coerced by means
of the state apparatus.

The same did not obtain in Athens, where the citizens were, first and .
foremost, private landowners and where, consequently, differences in
wealth did arise at a very early stage. Yet, unlike Rome, the constitution
of Athens did not anticipate any formal differentiation of rights over the
public land. What is more, Athenian democracy, since the Solonian and
Cleisthenian reforms, rested on the widest franchise of the members of the
citizen body, who all enjoyed equal political rights [see, also, Appendix],
In Rome, by contrast, there existed a formal system of property
qualifications with respect to entry upon political and military careers
(and, later, imperial posts) which inevitably circumscribed the political
representation of the poorer citizens and facilitated their exploitation
by the patricians. Also, objectively, the Roman political system was noted
for the. lack of equality of opportunity among the citizens, since wealth

[15] He could, however, mortgage it and thus alienate the income. For a
study of the Spartan system of land tenure, see Micheli [1952:205-11 ].

92

--'-*)-^**(^^ 'v ^fm^^^iK^f^jsm0^^ir:'^^

 differentials did play an important role in the actual function of the
state - e.g. high price for purchasing state contracts, bribery, political
patronage and clientship which threw the plebs into the hands of power-
hungry members of the aristocracy, etc. [16] Therefore, class bias were
either inscribed de jure in the political system or were operating de
facto in it, so that the effective margins of political action on the part
of the humble citizens were severely restricted [cf. Hindess et al.,
1975:90].

The political dominance of th Roman nobility effectively blocked,

then, most efforts to reverse or arrest the growing polarisation within
the citizen body due to the inexorable erosion of the property
qualification of the small citizen-peasants [assidui]. Instances of
rebellion were often quelled or, when successful, produced some temporary
alleviation of the poor's grievances, such as, for example, the abolition
in the fourth century BC of the nexus form of debt-bondage, brief mention
of which is made by Marx in Capital l:M00n. Its subsequent reappearance,
under different forms, as a punitive sanction against defaulting debtors
provoked further demands for the cancellation of debts [novae tabulae] and
produced many instances of rebellion, the most notable of which was
probably the secession in 267 BC which resulted in some political
concessions from the patrician class and increased somewhat the
representative character of the Roman state.

. - Debt-bondage (with the exception of Athens where it was abolished by

Solon) was a chronic grievance among the Greeks as well, as Marx notes
[cf.Grundrlsse:501 ]. Popular agitation for the remission of debts [chreon
apokope, in Greek] and the distribution of land [ges anadasmos] were the
most characteristic demands of the class struggle. among the Greek
citizens. Yet in those Greek city-states that enjoyed a genuinely
..--democratic constitution, the poor citizens possessed an equal say in the
polis assembly and were therefore in a position to contain the amassing
of land by the rich within certain limits. Greek democracy, as Ste.Croix

[16] On patronage and clientship in the Roman Republic, see Ste.Croix

[1981:340-1] and Finley [I983a:27], as well as the paper by Brunt
[197*1] on the travesty of what was supposed to be a democratic system
of government.

93
[1981:96-7, 141, 284-90] is at pains to show, contributed to the mitigation
of the civil strife by allowing the poor, who were numerically in the
majority, to impose limitations on the relentless tendency of
concentration of private property and wealth. Although there are no known
instances of an actual general redistribution of land in antiquity, the
poor were able to introduce various measures palliative of the
polarisation of the citizen body. In Athens, for example, the state levied
liturgies on the rich citizens, imposed special taxes on them [e.g.
theorikon, eisphorai, etc.], and allowed compensation for state office
[misthos], the redistribution of state revenues (especially those from the
state mines) for the poor, etc. [cf. Humphreys, 1970:11-2].

The demands of the non-possessing poor citizens, centred as they were

on the cancellation of debts, a less inequitable distribution of land and
a redistribution of the social surplus, reveal the real character of the
class struggle within the citizen body in antiquity. What the exploited
and dispossessed section of the citizen population demands is not the
institution of a new system of social organisation (as, for instance, is
the case with the bourgeoisie in the demise of feudalism or with the
socialist aspirations of the proletariat in capitalism), but a return to
the status quo ante. Their demands, and indeed the rebellions that spring
from them, call for the restoration of the previous social system of
economic equality,- [17] which is being gradually but irrevocably lost
through the development of private property that undermines their very
rights to citizenship. [18] The class struggle within the citizen body
thus offers us a further insight into the indissoluble fusion of the
political and the economic in the ancient relations of production. The
Roman plebs demand full political power from the nobility and the
abolition of the gradation of political privileges engraved in the

[17] This was expressed, at the ideological level, by the 'foundation myth'
of the ancients, according to which the original birth of the polis
was characterised by complete equality between its citizen members.
See Finley [1975:153-60] and [1983a:25]; also Fucks [1968:218-23].
[18] "The rebellions of the poor did not aim at transforming the
fundamental conditions of their existence; rather they were the
efforts of the impoverished or dispossessed peasants to recover
their land, whenever it had been seized outright by the wealthy or
alienated under the burden of debt, and thus to reassert their right
to membership of the community" [Konstan, 1975:159].

94
constitution, 30 as to achieve economic equality too. In Greek democracy,
on the other hand, where political equality is firmly established, it is
put to the service of redressing the economic inequities generated by the
continuous rise of the private over the communal element and thus serves
as a safety-valve to more acute eruptions of civil strife. [19]

The encounter, once more, with this merger of politics and economics
brings us back to the problem of the structural morphology of ancient
society, this time with regard to the class divisions within the citizen
body. A major analytical problem emerges; is Marx's talk of a class of rich
citizens counterposed to a class of poor citizens consistent when,
according to the definition of the ancient relations of production, all
citizens occupy the same overall position in the production system? The
problem is more fully revealed when we compare the ancient with the
capitalist relations of production. The major condition of existence of
the latter is the presence of two opposed classes with diametrically
opposite relationships to the means of production; namely, "the working
class, which only disposes of its labour-power, and the capitalist class,
which has the monopoly of the means of social production, and of money"
[Capital 11:497]. The antithesis is presupposed by the concept of the
capitalist mode of production which does not and cannot exist outside the
capital/wage labour relation. Yet the ancient mode, prior to the stage of
universalised slavery, has no such presupposi ton; rich and poor citizens
are' qualitatively undifferentiated as far as their economic roles and
their relationship to the means of production are concerned. Both groups
are composed of labouring freeholders who are not excluded from land (as
slaves are). In the economic sense alonu, their only difference appears as
merely quantitative in that they come to possess different amounts of
landed property. Only in that sense, then, to perceive them as constituting

[19] The Greek city-state- "stood as a barrier against the extreme

consequences of this antagonism, the utter reduction of the free
poor. It thus contained, ..., the contradiction upon which it was
founded: on one side, the essential nature of the city-state as a
community of proprietors; on the other side, the institution of
private property in land, which tended inevitably toward the
polarization of. society into a land-owning class and a class whose
holdings fell beneath the requirements of subsistence" [Konstan,
1975:159].

95
two distinct classes, is, as Vernant [1976:76] observes, quite
problematical:

-At first sight such a formulation is surprising, and hardly

seems to be Marxist in spirit. Membership of a class depends
neither on property nor on income levels, but on a man's place in
the system of production. How can a Marxist therefore speak of a
class of rich men or a class of poor?

Yet the problem does not so much lie in Marx's talk of a class of rich and
a class of poor citizens", as~in TfiiT"sarch for a definition which would
conform to this 'Marxist spirit'. For it is true that, if class definition
follows strictly economic criteria, we are inevitably drawn towards an
analytical impasse; the citizens form a qualitatively undifferentiated
mass of direct producers and, what is more, for the ancient production
process to proceed, a polarisation within the citizen body is neither
presupposed nor indeed necessary.

We should, therefore, turn away from the orthodoxy of the 'Marxist

spirit' and its economic reductionism to Marx's specific definition of the
ancient relations of production. We saw that the citizens' relation to the
means of production cannot be defined but through political
considerations; and it remains true that the citizen body occupies a
privileged position vis--vis the- non-citizen population as regards
political status and economic independence. However, the ancient relations
of production also contain an intrinsic opposition between communal and
private elements; between, that is, those elements that serve the
preservation of the political and economic cohesion of the commune and
those' that lead towards the dissolution of the communal links of the
social unit. It is because such a conflict exists that a class
differentiation within the citizenry is at all explainable. The two
constituent elements of the antithesis are represented by respective
groups amongst the citizens; the latter are, at one and the same time, both
united vis--vis the non-citizens and divided among themselves, because
the presupposition of the polis contains both cohesive and divisive
elements. This largely explains the fact that, in terms of the citizen
class struggle, it is the underprivileged class of the poor that strive
for restorative measures because it is they who represent, and stand to
benefit from the maintenance of, the communal elements of the ancient

96
relations of production. The interests of the rich section of the citizen
population, on the other side, are opposed to those of the poor precisely
because it is the rich who express the tendency of the private over the
communal elements; consequently, their class interests are defined by
their attempt to dissolve the communal cohesion of the citizenry by
depriving their poor fellow-citizens of their political independence
through the encroachment on their chief claim to citizenship, i.e. their
landed property, this is ultimately achieved with the expropriation of the
poor citizens from the land and their replacement by slave labour, whereby
the class relations within the citizen body are considerably modified.
Before we examine the processes that lead to this stage, however, we have
first to look into the expansionist propensities of the ancient commune,

4.2 Expansionism and its Effects

One of the most prominent characteristics of. the polis community is,
for Marx, its bellicose organisation. This derives from the ancient
relations of production which, by allowing access to private landholdings
only through membership of the commune, necessitate the members' "negative
unity towards the outside" [Grundrisse:475]. It is therefore the
exclusivity of the free individual's dual status as citizen/landowner that
also requires the institutionalisation of the defensive organisation of
the commune with reference to external relations with other communes.
Since "the earth in itself - regardless of the obstacles it may place in
the way of working it, really appropriating it - offers no resistance to
[attempts] to relate to it", it follows that the

difficulties which the commune encounters can arise only from

other communes, which have either previously occupied the land
and soil, or which disturb the commune in its own occupation. War
is therefore the great comprehensive task, the great communal^
labour which is required either to occupy the objective
conditions of being there alive, or to protect and perpetuate
the occupation. Hence the commune consisting of families
ini tally organized in a warlike way - as a system of war and
army, and this is one of the conditions of its being there as

97
 proprietor [ibidiW], [20]

The "concentration of the residences in a town", the very-

presupposition of the ancient city-state, is the "basis of this bellicose
organisation" [ibid], securing "the relation of these free and equal
private proprietors to one another, their bond against the outside"
[ibid:U75]. Moreover, the polis safeguards its members' existence with its
organisation j3f warfare not through a professional army but by the
conscription of the citizen population itself. The defensive apparatus of
the city-state does not stand outside the citizen body but is identical
with it; it is an army wholly composed of citizens who offer their "surplus
labour in the form of military service" [ibid:476]. The utilisation of the
citizens' surplus labour aims, therefore, at the protection of the
political cohesion of the commune which alone can guarantee their economic
existence. The difference with capitalism, then, is all the more
interesting, since, in antiquity,

It is not cooperation in wealth-producing labour by means of

which the commune member reproduces himself, but rather
cooperation in labour for the communal interests (imaginary or
real), for the upholding of the association inwardly and
outwardly [ibid].

The bellicose organisation of the polis does not aim solely at the
defence of the political community and its territorium, but assumes an
offensive character too. For warfare .is also the means whereby
neighbouring communes are dispossessed, their members become enslaved, the
victors share the proceeds of plunder, and new territory is acquired.
Leaving the phenomenon of slavery aside for the moment, let us concentrate
on the expansionist aspect of the bellicosity of the ancient city-state,
its causes, and its effects on the citizenry itself. What should be
stressed at the outset is that the citizens' preoccupation with warfare is

[20] "The only barrier which the community can encounter in relating to
the natural conditions of production - the earth - as to its own
property ... is another community, which already claims it as its own
inorganic body. Warfare is therefore one of the earliest occupations
of each of these naturally arisen communities, both for the defence
of their property and for obtaining new property" [Grundrisse:M91 ].

9fl
treated by Marx as the direct consequence of their particular mode of
producing, rather than the other way round. He therefore regards looting
and pillage only as the by-products of the ancient relations of production
and dismisses in rather acerbic tones the so-called 'plunder thesis'
according to which the people of classical antiquity depended for their
living exclusively on the sharing of loot:

Truly comical is M. Bastiat, who imagines that the ancient

Greeks and Romans lived by plunder alone. For if people live by
plunder for centuries there must, after all, always be something
there to plunder; in other words, the objects of plunder must be
continually reproduced. It seems, therefore, that even the
Greeks and the Romans had a process of production ... [Capital I:
175n],

It is, then, to the ancient relations of production that Marx turns in

his search for the causes of the expansionist tendencies of the polis.
Since these relations make membership of the commune subject to the
ownership of a plot of land, the aim of the community is

reproduction of the individuals who compose it as proprietors,

i.e. in the same objective mode of existence as forms the
relation among the members and at the same time therefore the
commune itself [Grundrisse;493; emphasis omitted].

But, if the "survival of the commune as such in the old mode requires the
reproduction of its members in the presupposed objective conditions"
[ibid^e], then, given the city's limited territorium, citizenship itself
is "dependent on a certain proportion in members not to be disturbed"
[Forced Emigration^"! ]. If, however, the number of citizens were to be
increased, the preservation of the existing relations of production would
require a corresponding aggrandizement of the polisterritory, so that the
newly-created citizenship requirement could be met. The advance of
population in the ancient city does, then, disturb the sensitive balance of
the ancient production relations; and, if this is to be restored, what is
needed is "colonization, and that in turn requires wars of conquest"
[Grundrisse;M9*0. Hence the establishment of colonies in the ancient world;
this was especially the case with the Greek diaspora on the shores of Asia
Minor, Southern Italy-, Sicily, and the Black Sea,, and the foundation of new
communities of emigrants under the aegis of their original Helladic

99
metropoleis. [21 ]

It should be mentioned, however, that Marx's treatment of the phenomenon

of ancient colonisation is notable for two omissions. The first concerns,
again, the lack of emphasis on the importance of the geography of the
classical world which, on the basis of what Marx says about the balanced
relationship between citizenship and landownership, must, if anything
else, have aggravated the effects of the growth of citizen population, with
its limited cultivable acreage. Again, the specific physical setting of
antiquity seems to have been taken into account by implication rather than
by explicit reference, since one may well presume, on Marx's own analysis,
that abundance of space could have provided the remedy to the increase in
the number of citizens who were seeking new land in order to maintain
their claim to citizenship. The second omission concerns the very causes
for such a population increase which remain unclarified. Only a passing
and rather cryptic allusion to the "advance of population" as itself
belonging "with production" [ibid:486] is made, but this can by no means
relieve the absence of a systematic analysis of its causes. If anything, it
rather complicates the matter even further by opening up two alternative
but equally legitimate interpretative possibilities. Either Marx sees the
advance of population in antiquity as a direct result of productive growth
- a line of reasoning in which Che direct linkage between cause and effect
is not transparent; and which, at any rate, would have to assume the
development of the productive forces as axiomatic, which is something that
is not borne out from the rest of Marx's analysis of the ancient world. Or
population growth is implicitly taken as an independent variable that
reacts upon and with the existing production relations of antiquity.

It is not so much the causes as the effects of population increase,

however, that concern Marx in his treatment of ancient colonisation. What
is most interesting in his discussion is that overpopulation is not
understood in the absolute sense but, rather, with reference to a specific
set of relations of production. Overpopulation is thought of as "a

[21] Not all forms of settlement abroad, though, were colonies proper
[apoiklal]; purely commercial stations, exchange centres and ports of
trade [emporia] were also established [cf. Austin et al., 1977:61-8].

100
historically determined relation" which is defined "by specific
conditions of production" [ibid:6063. Consequently:

what may be overpopulation in one stage of social production may

not be so in another, and their effects may be different. E.g. the
colonies sent out in antiquity were overpopulation, i.e. their
members could not continue to live in the same space with the
material basis of property, i.e. conditions of production
[ibid:604].

Indeed, so closely connected is the concept of overpopulation with the set

of production relations in Marx's analysis that, judging by contemporary
standards, the notion of a surplus population of citizens in Athens
appears surprising; "how small", Marx exclaims at one point, "do the
numbers which meant overpopulation for the Athenians appear to us!"
[ibid:606]. Yet it is the dual relationship of the citizen as member of the
commune and proprietor of land that defines overpopulation in antiquity.
This is evinced by the fact that the ancient relations of production make
the concept of overpopulation relative even to the number of slaves within
the polis:

There was no barrier to the reproduction of the Athenian slave

other than the producible necessaries. And we never hear that
there were surplus slaves in antiquity. The call for them
increased rather. There was, however, a surplus"population of
non-workers (in the immediate sense), who were not too many in
relation to the necessaries available, but who had lost the
conditions under which they could appropriate them [ibid:607].

But the problem of overpopulation in antiquity does not end with its
historically relative conceptualisation; the specific forms of expansion
a/id colonisation which the solutions to it assume remain yet to be
explained. It is one thing to establish that the inelasticity of the
population limits of the classical commune is accounted for by the
sensitive equilibrum-Qf- the citizen/landowner relationship. It is quite
another, though, to explain why the difficulties generated by the creation
of a surplus citizen population are resolved in the particular manner of
lateral expansion. For the essence of the phenomenon of ancient
colonisation lies precisely in the fact that the city-state reproduced
itself invariably by means of war and settlement; instead of an upsurge of
economic growth, the problems caused by overpopulation were solved by

101
seeking new outlets for the surplus citizens who founded in the new places
of settlement colonies modelled on their original metropolei3. [22] The
disturbance of the proportion of citizens to acreage by population growth
is not, therefore, overcome by the growth of the productive forces - a
growth which, if it took place, would transform the existing set of
production relations. Rather, what the phenomenon of colonisation proves
is the durability and resistance of however atrophic, contradictory and
perturbed relations of production. The latter are reproduced unchanged in
their essential features, as their determination of expansion as the
principal means of growth shows. It is this stress on the search for new
lands (instead of ways to increase productivity), as the means of
resolving the problem of population increase while preserving the
existing relations of production, that signifies a departure on Marx's
part from the framework of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production. The fact, in other words, that it is to the relations of
production that Marx turns, not only for the definition of population
limits, but also for the determination of the mode of surpassing these
limits, points towards a hiatus between what his general theory of history
prescribes and what his treatment of ancient expansionism actually
implies, namely a distanciation from the Dialect of Forces and Relations
of Production. The expansionist 'solution' may have significant resonances
that react back and ultimately transform the ancient relations of
production, but the fact remains that it is not productive growth that
effects such a change:

If it were thought that productivity on the same land could be

increased by developing the forces of production etc. ..., then
the new order would include combinations of labour, a large part
of the day spent in agriculture etc., and thereby again suspend
the old economic conditions of the community [Grundrisse:1!1^].

But this clearly does not happen. Instead, Marx acknowledges the inability
of the ancient world to generate a tendency towards productive advances:

[22] The same process was continued in the colonies themselves. Instead of
economic advance, the new colonies kept on enlarging their territory
at the expense of native populations, so that fresh arrivals of
colonists could be settled. There were even cases of waves of
colonisation out of colonies, when the latter's own limits of
expansion were reached.

102
 In the ancient states, in Greece and Rome, compulsory emigration
assuming the shape of the periodical establishment of colonies,
formed a regular link in the structure of society. The whole
system of those states was founded on certain limits to the
number of population which could not be surpassed without
endangering the condition of antique civilisation itself. But
why was it so? Because the application of science to material
production was utterly unknown to them. To remain civilised they
were forced to remain few. Otherwise they would have had to
submit to the bodily drudgery which transformed the free
citizen into a slave. The want of productive power made
citizenship dependent on a certain population in numbers not to
be disturbed. Forced emigration was the only remedy [Forced
Emigration:530-1 ].

It is because of this unfulfilled want of productive power, then, that

lateral, expansion becomes the only means whereby the threat of population
growth to the existing relations of production can be contained. And,
inversely, population growth has to be contained or "restricted"
[Grundrisse:605], precisely because its dangers cannot be effectively
overcome by productive advance. A tendency towards the latter is not,
therefore, given or presupposed in the case of antiquity, regardless of
what the Development Thesis predicates, because, as in all precapitalist
forms, the existing relations of production pose a "presupposed barrier"
[ibid] to the development of the productive forces.

Three great cycles of colonial and imperial expansion can be

distinguished in the history of antiquity; namely, the Grecian, Macedonian
and Roman. Of the three Marx refers mainly to the last one, but he also
makes some comparative contrasts between all three. To put these into
context, therefore, it is necessary to refer, very briefly and
schematically, to the history of the ancient imperia.

On the aftermath of the Persian Wars (490-480 BC), which were

themselves a manifestation of the Hellenic world's determination to defend
Lis political independence, Athens emerges as the most powerful city-
state. Its political, imperialist and cultural prominence in the fifth
century BC is invariably attributed to its democratic institution, its
naval superiority, its possession of the richest silver mines in Greece

103
(at Laureion), [23] and the large confluence of metics with the subsequent
development of trade and industry. Athenian expansionism was not, however,
wholly motivated by settlement drives; Athenian settlers or cleruchs
remained relatively few and were quite unique among Greek colonisers in
that they retained full Athenian citizenship. Rather than the annexation
of territory, Athenian imperialism was principally aimed at the formation
of military and economic alliances (e.g. the Delian League in the mid-fifth
century and the Second Athenian Confederacy in the early fourth) with
other Hellenic cities, which were subjected'toTrTbutary payments. [24] An
additional feature of Athenian expansionism may also have been the desire
to secure the major supply routes for the import of corn, given the
insufficiency of the land of Attica to provide for the whole of the
population [cf. Austin et al., 1977:113-8]. Finally, attention should also
be drawn to the palliative effect the economic exploitation of subject
cities had had on the class struggle within the Athenian citizenry itself
[cf. Ste.Croix, 1981:290'and Finley, 1 983a:11 3~4].

The rise and growing predominance of Athens incurred Sparta's envy;

their rivalry resulted in the Peloponnesian War of 431 404 3C in which
most of Greece became embroiled and which ended with the capitulation of
Athens and its subsequent decline. [25] There are some passing references
by Marx to this antagonism with regard to the different economic character
and interests of Athens and Sparta. In The German Ideology, for example, we
find a reference to the uneven development of Greece which is thought of
as having generated acute antagonisms between the ancient cities:

The division of labour is already more developed^ We already

find the antagonism of town and country; later the antagonism
between those states which represent town interests and those
which represent country interests ... [op.cit.:22].

And the superior economic development of Athens is stressed again in

Capital I:

[23] On the importance of the Laureium mines for Athenian power, cf. Finley
[1983a:l6],
[24] cf. Finley [1983a:17, 63]. For a comprehensive study of Athenian
imperialism, see Meiggs [1972].
[25] For an excellent account of the origins of the Peloponnesian War, see
Ste.Croix [1972].

104
 The Athenian considered himself superior as a producer of
commodities to the Spartan; for in time of war the latter had
plenty of men at his disposal, but could not command money, as
Thucydides makes Pericles say in the speech inciting the
Athenians to the Peloponnesian War ... [op.cit.:487n].

The Spartan succession to Athenian supremacy was to be short-lived and

owed much to the growing Persian interference in Greek affairs. The fourth
century saw its decline and the temporary rise of Thebes (dating from 371
BC, when the Spartans were defeated in Leuctra) as the new dominant power
in Greece. Soon, however, the Helladic world was overshadowed, in the
latter half of the century, by the emergent power of Philip II of
Macedon, [26] who established his hegemony over the debilitated states of
southern Greece and paved the way for the subsequent eastward expansion of
his son, Alexander the Great.

The Hellenistic states, [27] which follow the division of Alexander's

empire among his successors (the Diadochi and 'their Epigoni) are not
mentioned by Marx but are of interest here because they may be regarded as
the meeting-points of the classical and Asian worlds. These states were
artificial creations, the results of the rivalry between Alexander's heirs,
but, in spite of their hybrid origin, they presided over the emergence of
large cities populated by Greeks. The Hellenistic cities, whose growth or
very creation (e.g. Alexandria) owed much to royal patronage, experienced a

[26] Macedon was more archaic in its constitution and social organisation
than the rest of Greece. All land belonged to the hereditary king who
divided a part of it among his kinsmen who formed a tribal nobility.
Macedon's backwardness brings to mind the distinction between polis
and ethnos which, unfortunately remains unsurfaced in Marx's
writings, probably due to his typification of Athens and his neglect
of the problems of uneven development in Greece. In contrast to the
polis, the ethnos forms a "state without an urban centre" [Ehrenberg,
1969:20], where the population is relatively dispersed, political
links are loose and the state exists in a rather diffuse sense. The
case of the ethni is particularly interesting from the point oi* view
of the problem of -endogeny and unilinearism in periodisation and
Godelier's proposals on it (cf. eh. 3. supra); this is so because "one
factor which was often decisive in their lack of centralisation was
their geographical extension, which made it difficult for them to. be
transformed into genuine poleis with a single urban centre" [Austin
et al., 1977:79].
[27] Namely, the Seleucid state of Syria, the Lagid rule in Egypt, and the
Attalid kingdom of Pergamurn in Asia Minor.

105
surge of urban economic activiy; manufacture flourished, banking was
widely practiced, and trade became of primary importance. Yet the
Hellenistic East was characterised by a "syncretic" structure [Anderson,
1974a:*49] to the extent that a disparity existed between the economic life
of the urban centres (which were largely modelled on the Greek cities) and
the mode of production in the countryside (which proved remarkably
resistant to Greek influence). [28] The Hellenistic rulers allowed pre-
existing forms of land tenure to survive and managed the exploitation of
their provinces (in the form of taxtion7~onscFiption, etc.) by purely
administrative means; hence the emergence, for the first time, of a
bureaucratic apparatus which was quite alien to the Greek polis where the
citizen/landowner partook directly in the affairs of; the state [cf.
Finley, 1983a:8,30-1 ]. This uncomfortable admixture of Hellenic and Asiatic
elements was also reflected in the social stratification of the
Hellenistic East which was largely based on the distinction between Greek
and non-Greek. [29]

Despite its absence from Marx's discussion of antiquity, the case of the
Hellenistic world can be said to be theoretically provided for in the
,Grundrisse where, three alternative results of conquest are generally
recognised; :;^

In all cases of conquest, three things are possible. The

conquering people subjugates the conquered under its own mode
of production ...; or it leaves the old mode intact and contents
itself with a tribute ...; or a reciprocal interaction takes
place whereby something new, a synthesis, arises ... [op.cit.:97].

First of all, then, such a recognition of inter-social causes of change due

to conquest automatically absolves Marx of any suspicion of harbouring
endogenous principles of development in practice, a charge which, as we

[28] "In the most basic section of production, in agriculture, the Orient
in Hellenistic times is profoundly Oriental, not at all Greek;
'Hellenism' was confined to elements of social superstructure ..."
[Kreissig, 1977:26].
[29] "In the Hellenistic period the main estate division 'was that between
Greek and non-Greek. In a sense the Greeks considered themselves a
kind of commune which ruled the newly conquered territories. This cut
across the division of rich and poor, since all Greeks were part of
the ruling estate" [Padgug, 1975:112].

106
3aw, is inevitable on the implications of his general unfolding model of
history. Secondly, as far as the Hellenistic provinces are concerned, these
may not have been the result of colonisation proper to the extent that
they were the products of the imposition of Greek military and political
rule over large alien populations with a different mode of production; nor
can we speak of them as forms of a removed extraction of tribute since the
Greek conquerors and settlers were directly and physically involved in
their exploitation; but they may arguably be seen as the result of the
synthetic interpntration of two worlds into a syncretic and quite novel
structure which can hardly be subsumed under either the Hellenic or the
Asiatic types.

Rome, which experiences the great age of its expansion in the middle
Republic (roughly third to second century BC), is yet another distinct
case of imperialism. Imperialist control, like that of Athens, does not
necessarily involve the control over or the transformation of the
conditions of production prevalent in the conquered territories. Marx
acknowledges, in particular, Rome's inability to penetrate the social
structure of its provinces; he repeatedly notes, for instance, its failure
to impose a limited form of money exchange, even in relation to the
extraction of the tribute due to it [cf.Grundrisse: 103, Capital I-.238-9,
Capital 111:797]. What is more, those of its provinces with a comparatively
developed economy [30] were even in a position, if not actually to profit
by Rome's relatively underdeveloped industry, at least to alleviate the
economic effects of the tribute by claiming back some; of their money
through a one-way traffic of imports into Italy. Thus, for instance:

the towns of Asia Minor paid a yearly money tribute to ancient

Rome. With this money Rome bought commodities from them, and
bought them too dear. The provincials cheated the Roman's",'and in
this way swindled back from their conquerors a portion of the
tribute in the course of trade [Capital 1:265].

[30] "Ancient Rome, in its later republican days, developed merchant's

capital to a higher degree than ever before in the ancient world,
without showing any progress in the development of crafts, while in
Corinth and other Grecian towns in Europe and Asia Minor the
development of commerce was accompanied by highly developed crafts"
[Capital 111:332].
Although, then, the exploitation of the provinces remained unabated
throughout the Republic and into the Principate, [31] it was a precarious
control that Rome exdercised over its conquered territories, precisely
because of its failure to integrate them economically:

Rome indeed never became more than a city; its connection with
the provinces was almost exclusively political and could,
therefore, easily be broken again by political events [German
Ideology;72].

Yet Roman inperialism differed from Athenian imperialism in one

important respect; whereas we can talk of a collective exploitation of the
subject states by the Athenians, the Romans had the opportunity of
enriching themselves individually in the provinces [cf. Humphreys,
1970:22-3]. The specific "connection" of Rome "with the provinces",in other
words, had profound implications for the history of Rome itself; and,
indeed, most of Marx's references to Roman imperialism occur with its
repercussions on the citizen class struggle chiefly in mind. The class
character of Roman imperialism is, by contrast, largely absent in the case
of Greek, and especially Athenian, expansionism, where the very raison
d'tre of lateraFexpansion is the preservation of the civic unity and of
the identity of:;eitizenship and landownership. Athenian imperial dominance
enjoyed popular" support within the city itself for the democratic
institution ensured a relatively egalitarian distribution of the proceeds
of imperial exploitation and, also, the reproduction, where applicable, of
ancient relations of production in the subject states. [32] On the
contrary, the aristocratic content of the Roman constitution resulted in
imperial expansion being used largely to the advantage of the dominant

[31] Cf. Engelsls-remark: "During the last years of the republic, Roman
rule was already based on the ruthless exploitation of the conquered
provinces. The emperors had not abolished this exploitation; on the
contrary, they had regularised it" [0rigin:559].
[32] Athenian democracy was reflected extrovertly in the favouritism
Athens tended to show for democratic regimes in its subject cities,
an attitude counterbalanced by the oligarchic leanings of Sparta's
foreign policy - see Ste.Croix [195^:21-30, 37-41] and Finley
[1983a:6l]. One should not generalise, however, from this
correspondence between political constitution and foreign policy,
especially in view of Rome's largely opportunistic interventionist
practices in Greece during the second century BC [cf. Briscoe,
1974:71-3].
oJ-garchy and In the Italian lower classes losing rather than benefiting
by the empire. This important difference in the class content of Greek and
Roman imperialism is noted by Marx; in particular, he remarks that the
Greek cities sought new land mainly for the emigration of their surplus
population of citizens so that the conditions of citizenship could be
maintained. Greek colonisers were "very far from being paupers. Such was,
however, the Roman plebs with its bread and circuses" [Grundrlsse:604-5].

The upper-class character of Roman imperialism resulted in the

pauperisation of the humble citizens, their expropriation from the land
and their displacement by chattel-slaves in the large latifundia which
emerged from the immense concentration of agrarian property in the hands
of the privileged patrician minority. [33] But how was imperialist
expansionism put to the service of the class struggle within the Roman
citizen body and to the advantage of its richer and powerful section? The
first result of expansionism was of course the addition of new land to the
state, the "enlargement of the ager publicus, and therewith the patricians
who represent the community"' [Grundrisse: 4 9^3. The exploitation of the
provinces was indeed restricted to the upper stratum of the citizen body
and this exclusive right manifested itself in other ways too. The
conquered territories presented the rich Romans with a major source of
income either directly through the proceeds of imperial
administration [3^3 or indirectly through private exploitation. In the
first case, the governing officials of the empire were drawn from the
senatorial class alone and had ample opportunity for the systematic
extortion of the provincials. On the other hand, the provinces were also
exploited by tax collectors (publicans); but to acquire the rights of tax
collection one had to supply substantial guarantees in the form of

[331 The concentration of landed property began very early in Rome, as

Marx's reference to the Licinian agrarian laws of 367 BC indicates
[cf. German Ideology:22], and proceeded very rapidly from the time of
the civil wars and under the emperors.
[34] The difference with the Athenian empire is again obvious. Athenian
imperialism consisted not o much in the direct administration of
conquered territories as in the extraction of tribute from
independent cities allied to Athens. Thus, although the Athenians did
exploit their allies, "they did not govern their empire; financial
and other administration was normally left to local authorities"
[Humphreys, 1970:233.

109
property in advance of the tax to be farmed. So, again, the privilege of a
state contract on tax collection was effectively restricted only to the
wealthiest citizens. In consequence, either de jure or de facto, the
exploitation of the provinces remained in the hands of the rich Romans.

More immediately, still, expansionism was turned against the poorer

citizens by the use of conscription as a means for their destruction. Long
absences on military service, aided by taxation and poverty, deprived the
independent citizen peasants oratile fme and means necessary for the
cultivation of their plots. The wide employment of cheap slave labour,
which flowed into Italy as a result of the conquests, worsened the free
peasants' position still further and gradually made it untenable. Small
peasant proprietors were constantly falling into debt, prey to the hands
of the aristocracy, who used the wealth accumulated in the provinces for
imposing exorbitant usurious terms on the indebted small holders and
finally succeeded in totally expropriating them from the land.

Roman expansion, therefore, exacerbated, instead of alleviating, the

class struggle within the citizen body to the point where the poor
citizens were deprived of their landholdings and thus effectively of the
conditions of full citizenship. The whole process is brilliantly summed up
by Marx: ..~~"

The same wars through which the Roman patricians ruined the
plebeians by compelling them to serve as soldiers and which
prevented them from reproducing their conditions of labour, and
therefore made paupers of them (and pauperisation, the crippling
or loss of the prerequisites of reproduction is here the
predominant form) - these -same wars filled the store-rooms and
coffers of the patricians with looted copper, the money of that
time. Instead of directly giving plebeians the necessary
commodities, i.e. grain, horses, and cattle, they loaned them this
copper for which they had no use themselves, and took advantage
of this situation to exact enormous usurious interest, thereby
turning the plebeians into their debtor slaves [Capital 111:598-
9].

This class character of Roman expansionism brings us back to the

distinction between Greece and Rome. In the latter's case, imperialism
seems to assume its own momentum, outside and beyond the population
pressure characteristic of Greek expansionism. Its continuation, in other

110
words, is not so much due to an attempt to restore the population limits
which were the preconditions for the maintenance of a broadly egalitarian
citizen community, as to the internal class antagonisms of Rome.

A by-product of Roman expansionism was also its impact on the

constitution of the army. Originally, the power of Rome was founded on a
free peasantry at arms; the ruination of the land base of the conscripts,
however, gradually brought about the disappearance of its citizen
character and the emergence of a professional standing army. The pressure
for payment for military service, brought about by the pauperisation of
the citizen/soldier and the influx of non-citizen recruits, resulted in
that army assuming more and more a mercenary character (see also Ch.5).

In conclusion, it is evident that expansionism, in all its variant

manifestations across the Graeco-Roman world, is regarded by Marx as one
of the most significant elements in its history. Its effects were profound
and far-reaching, as we shall see in greater detail in the next chapter. It
not-only shaped to a considerable degree the face of the Mediterranean
world but also radically reacted back on the ancient relations of
production upon which it rested. What should not be overlooked, however, is
the fact that even the most directly economic effects of ancient
expansionism (e.g. the exploitation of the provinces, the concentration of
wealth, the universalisation of slavery, etc.) were primarily the products
of the political constitution of the ancient relations of production,
which generated such expansive tendencies, and which rendered the
classical world military superiority and political cohesion over its
neighbours. Nowhere in Marx's writings do we find an explanation of the
phenomenon of ancient expansionism based on a presumably superior level of
economic growth. The comparison with modern forms of imperialis/n becomes,
therefore, inevitable, for, in antiquity, the situation was "the reverse of
.modern-capitalism, where political supremacy is, in general, a consequence
of economic resources and development" [Konstan, 1975:161].

111
 5. THE DEVELOPMENT OF CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY

5.1 Slavery and Exchange

When we turn to Marx's treatment of the causes of development and

change in classical antiquity we encounter an implicit repudiation of the
Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production. This is so because the
transformations that take place in the social structure of the ancient
world are not attributed to an inherent tendency on the part of the
productive forces to grow and thereby alter production relations; rather,
the causes of these transformations are sought in the particular solutions
given to the internal contradictions of the ancient relations of
production. In other words, the "foundation of development"
[Grundrisse:487] is not established on the assumption of the growth-
tendency of the forces of production, but on the analysis of the aims of
reproduction set by ancient relations and the results of this
reproduction^. The 'alterations in the original social structure (and in
its basic presupposition, i.e. the dyadic principle of citizen cum private
holder) are seen as being "brought about by its own dialectic" [ibid] and
not the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production. For the forms
that the resolutions of its multiple internal contradictions (i.e. the
opposition built into the citizen/landowner unity and the consequent
antithesis between communal and private elements in the production
relations, the resultant antagonisms within the citizenry, the
expansionist drives of the polis, etc.) assume are far from being a case of
cessante causa-cessant effectua. Land concentration, imperialism and
enslavement, the development of exchange and manufacture, etc., are
developments that are engendered in the process of the reproduction of
ancient relations, but which themselves constitute causative effects that
soon react back upon these relations and thereby modify the original
social structure of the classical polis:

the reproduction of presupposed relations ... of the individual

112
 to his commune ... [is -PL] the foundation of development, which
is therefore from the outset restricted, but which signifies
decay, decline and fall once this barrier is suspended. Thus
among the Romans, the development of slavery, the concentration
of land possession, exchange, the money system, conquest etc.,
although all these elements up to a certain point seemed
compatible with the foundation, and in part appeared merely,;as
innocent extensions of it, partly grew out of it as mere abuses
[ibid].

Such a distanciation from the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of

Production does not mean of course a denial of productive growth - if
anything, the ancient world is for Marx that precapitalist era which
experiences the most remarkable productive advances prior to capitalism.
What it nevertheless signifies is an analytical shift on Marx's part since
causal primacy is no longer ascribed to the forces of production; far from
being treated as the independent variable of change, productive growth
emerges as itself determined by the process of reproduction of the
contradictory relations of antiquity. The explanation of change is
accordingly severed from the universal causality of the Dialectic of
Forces and Relations of Production since, in a way, it is "the very success
of the commune in reproducing itself that transforms it" [Padgug, 1975:89].

It is particularly the growing importance of slavery and exchange

practices that signifies a new era in the history of classical antiquity;
the extent to which slavery developed, for instance, entailed a radical
transformation of the original relations of production. The resultant
social structure was evidently of quite a different character from that of
the ancient commune and, as such, requires a distinct conceptualisation. It
is however doubtful whether this problem, which may be described as the
question of the 'internal periodisation* of antiquity, receives a clear,
unambiguous and systematic treatment by Marx. On the other hand, although
its analytical consequences were never fully and consistently explored, a
series of observations testifies that the transformation of the original
social structure did not elude Marx's detection. He was careful, for
instance, to point out the corrosive and ultimately transformative effect
of slavery which "soon corrupts and modifies the original forms of

113
communities and then itself becomes their basis" [Grundri;3se:491 3. [1] He
specifically refers to a "mode of production" that is "based 'on slavery"
[Marx to Otechestvenniye Zapiski:294], and to a slave system, as "the
dominant form of productive labour in agriculture, manufacture, ship-
building, etc., as in the developed Greek states and in Rome" [Capital
11:555].

It is therefore clear that Marx distinguishes between, on the one hand,

the original ancient system of production which is characterised by small
peasant producers and implies only a limited involvement of slave labour,
of what Marx at one point refers to as that of the "patriarchal" kind
[Capital III :332]; and, on the other, a new dominant mode of production?
based upon the use of chattel-slaves who replace the independent
peasantry. The already quoted but very important footnote in Capital I
makes this distinction quite clear:

Peasant agriculture on a small scale and production by

independent peasants, ... form the economic foundation of the
communities of classical antiquity at their best period, ...'
before slavery had seized on production in earnest [op.cit.::452-
3n].

The chronology of this internal transformation is difficult to decide,

especially in view of the fact that the problem is not fully explored in

[1] The extent and character of the transformative effect of slavery

depends, of course, on the particular social structure in which it
assumes prominence. In the case of the Graeco-Roman world the
development of slavery has such a momentous impact because the social
structure of the archaic commune contains the contradictory, and
ultimately self-destructive, symbiosis of private and communal
elements. By contrast, the effect of slavery is minimal in the Asiatic
form where similar contradictions are absent: "In the self-sustaining
unity of manufacture and agriculture, on which this form rests,
conquest is not so necessary a condition as where landed property,
agriculture are exclusively predominant. On the other-hand, since in
this form the individual never becomes a proprietor but only a
possessor, he is at bottom himself the property, the slave of him in
whom the unity of the commune exists, and slavery here neither
suspends the conditions of labour nor modifies the essential
relation" [Grundrisse: 493].

114
Marx's writings. [2] But it is, nevertheless, quite evident that his
observations in the Grundrisse on the ancient relations of production and,
in particular, on the identity of citizenship and landownership refer to
the "beginning phase in the development of antiquity even regarding Rome;
he spoke in effect of what was held to have been the 'golden age' of
antiquity" [Tokei, 1979:42].

The gradual degeneration of the ancient social structure is treated as

the overall result of the consequences of expansionism and of the class
struggle within the citizenry. Marx's analysis of this process of erosion
takes as its main point of reference the history of Rome which serves him
"as the most classic example, the thing in its purest, most fully developed
form" [Grundrisse;484]. The effects of warfare and expansionism on Roman
society were, indeed, manifold. [33 The most important of them, though, was
the mass enslavement of subject peoples as a result of conquest, and the
subsequent importation of those slaves to Italy. The ongoing expropriation
of the poor peasant producers from their land and the corresponding

[2] Engels, on the other hand, gives us some clearer indication: "Greece
made its entry into history, as far back as the heroic epoch, with a
system [in which -PL] the land was mainly cultivated by independent
peasants ... Italy was brought under cultivation chiefly by peasants
[until -PL], in the final period of the Roman Republic, the great
complexes of estates, the latifundia, displaced the small peasants
and replaced them with slaves ..." [Antl-Duhring: 216]. With regard to
the problem of chronology, cf. Brunt [1971: 18], who estimates that in
the two hundred years intervening between the beginning of the Second..
Punic War (218 BC) and the end of- Augustus's reign (AD 14), the
population of Italy swelled from approximately four millions to
seven millions, with most of the increment to be explained by the
massive importation of slaves.
[3] A broadly similar process occurs in Athens too, especially in the
wake of the Peloponnesian War [cf. Humphreys, 1970:7~9, 13-5 and
Vernant, 1976:68-74]. The effects of the conflict with Sparta on the
structure of the Athenian polls ran deep and were very extensive.
First, it caused the enforced urbanisation brought about by the war;
before the devastation of Attica by the Spartan invaders and their
allies, the free Athenian peasants began to desert their -land and
flee en masse to Athens. At the same time, the citizen basis of the
army was also being transformed by the introduction of mercaneries
and professional military leaders in response to the growing
pressures of war [cf. Finley, 1983a:59, 68], Lastly, the very principle
of citizenship qua landownership was being slowly but irretrievably
undermined; the development of exchange and the spread of money made
the granting of citizen rights to aliens [isopoliteia] more frequent
and the alienability of land to non-citizens [enktesis ges ke oikion]
easier.

115
concentration of property in the hands of the patricians facilitated the
replacement of the free independent producer by cheap slave labour on a
massive scale. But what is most interesting in this transition to a
society dominated by the slave mode of production is the fact that it is
not treated by Marx as a result of the development of the productive
forces but, rather, as the apogee of the class struggle between the
patricians and their humble fellow-citizens. The extensive employment of
slave labour is not, in other words, regarded as a response to the
requirements of a growing economy which is supposedly fettered by the old
structure. [4] The existing relations of production are not in this case
transformed, as the Dialectic Forces and Relations of Production demands,
by a presumed growth in the productive forces which they can no longer
contain; on the contrary, they change as the result of the successful class
war that the wealthy Romans have waged against their fellow-citizens and
their land property. [5] Thus:

[4] Indeed, although the mass introduction of slaves brings about an

increase in the scale of production, it is extremely doubtful whether
the substitution of dependent for independent labour is caused by or
results in an increase of social productivity. It is hardly
disputable, for instance, that, throughout its long history, ancient
production was at or very near the level of agrarian subsistence, and
this despite the immense concentration of wealth in the hands of a
privileged minority. Cf., on that point, Brown [1971:12] who points out
that "the classical Mediterranean has always been a world on the edge
of starvation". Marx's ideas on the productive limitations of slave
labour, in particular, are discussed extensively in the following
chapter.
[5] This discrepancy between the analytical prescriptions of the 1859
Preface, on the one hand, and , the treatment of the internal
development of the classical world into a slave society, on the other,
does not become instantly obvious in the Grundrisse, where direct
references to the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production
are, by and large, eschewed. But it is easily discernible in the
incongruous account of the spread of slavery in Engels's Anti-
Diihrlng. For, although Engels tries faithfully to observe the
requirements of the Dialectic by general references to the growth of
the productive forces as the explanatory variable [cf. op.cit.:197],
his account of the issue in question emerges as curiously dissociated
from it, since it finally comes down to the interrelated effects of
expansionism and the class struggle: "In the ancient primitive
communities with common ownership of the land, slavery either did not
exist at all-or played only a very subordinate role. It was the same
. in the originally peasant cicy of Rome; but when Rome became a 'world
city' and Italic landownership came more and more into the hands of a
numerically small class of enormously rich proprietors, the peasant
population was supplanted by a population of 3laves" [op.cit.:197-8].

116
 As soon r. uhe usury of the Roman patricians had completely
ruined the Roman plebeians, the small peasants, this form of
exploitation came to an end and a pure slave economy replaced
the small-peasant economy [Capital 111:5953. -

The fact that the explanation of the spread of slavery is no longer

derived from the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production does not
of "course mean that Marx implies that no productive changes are made in
the transition from the original ancient to a slave mode of production.
Indeed, he lays great emphasis on the point that the Roman conquests
release new forces into ancient history, such as, for instance, the growth
of trade and the development of manufacture. But these are, for the moment,
beside the point. For what is of importance here is that the causal primacy
in the 'internal periodisation of antiquity is not attributed to a
tendency on the part of the ancient economy towards productive growth but
to the peculiar reproduction process it initiates (i.e. expansionism) and
the effects of the class struggle. What productive advances do occur are
the result rather than the cause of the transition to a slave mode. For,
instead of the latter being the consequence of an upswing in productive
activity, the extension of production based on slave labour constitutes
"the means" and imperialism "the opportunity" [Konstan, 1975:102] whereby
the free citizen-farmer is expropriated from his land and eventually
reduced to a landless dependent of the state.

Slavery is, of course, of extreme importance in the understanding of the

development of the ancient world. [6] Although it existed in various forms
throughout the ancient Near East, it is in Graeco-Roman antiquity that it
becomes so extensive as to be the pre'dominant form of the exploitation of

[6] Engels, for instance, repeatedly stresses that the main achievements
and sophistication of classical civilisation in politics,
legislation, the arts and science, etc^-could only be accomplished
because a small privileged minority of rich citizens were free of the
necessity of labour for subsistence on account that they exploited
large masses of slaves [cf. Antl-D*hring:221-3]. It has also been
suggested [cf. Ste.Croix, 1981:1 41 and Konstan, 1975:160] that in those
cases where solidarity rather than disunion within the citizen body
tended to be the general rule, as in Athens, for instance, the
curtailment of the exploitation of citizen by citizen through the
functionning of democratic institutions had the effect of diverting
exploitation 'outwards* and, thus, of correspondingly intensifying the
use of slave labour.

117
surplus labour. et,,.: the spread of slavery was far from being uniform [7]
or, for that matter*; universal. Free peasants, dependent tenants, even
independent artisans-(as Marx recognises - cf. Results:1029), always co-
existed alongside slaves, in varying degrees across the whole of the
classical world. 133 Nevertheless, Marx speaks of slavery, of "direct
forced labour", as being "the foundation of the ancient world"
[Grundrisse:245], because it is from slaves that the ancient propertied
class extracts the greatest part of its surplus. Slaver^,.therefore, gives
its imprint to classical civilisation, not because everything is produced
by slave labour, but because this is the "dominant form of productive
labour" [Capital 11:555]; the developed ancient social formation is in
other words characterised by the dominance of the slave mode of
production. [9]

But the novelty of the developed ancient world does not consist only of
the expansion and systmatisation of slave production; it is also marked
by a historically unprecedented development of manufacture, commerce and
exchange practices. These, in conjunction with slavery, constitute the
unique characteristics1of the development of the Graeco-Rcman world and
(as we shall see in the next chapter) its insuperable limitations as well.

Marx held that the origin of exchange lied in the" contacts between
different communities, that come together to trade products which they
lack. This position is extremely interesting because of what it implies;
namely, that the origins of exchange are traced in the external relations

[7] In Greece, for example, slavery was not even a single legal status but
entailed four gradations of unfreedom, the worst being chattel-
slavery [cf. Westermann, 1960:31] In Rome, on the other hand, the
condition of the servus was juridically less impure.
[8] Thus, for instance, slavery in Greece predominated in manufacture and
industry but did not overwhelm agricultural production, which
remained largely in the hands of small peasant proprietors. By
contrast, in Italy, where "the immense aggregations of estates
(latifundia) ... had covered nearly the whole territory since the end
of the republic" [Origin:559], cheap slaves were extensively employed
in agriculture. Cf., also, Jones's [1960:8] point that "The novelty of
this period -Ts the extension of slave labour in a big way to
agriculture."
[9] Indeed, this is an instance of the recognition by classical
scholarship of the analytical value of the Marxian distinction
between mode of production and social formation - cf. Finley
[1983b:21].

118
of a community rather than being treated as the outcome of an endogenous
process. Exchange, for Marx, "originally appears, .... in the connection of
the different communities with one another, not in the relations between
different members of a single community" [Grundrisse:! 03]. [10] What such
a position entails, however, is that exchange of products comes about not
so much out of the need to dispose of a surplus generated by an upswing of
productive capacity as by a desire to acquire products that are either
lacking or produced in insufficient quantities, due presumably to
productive backwardness or/and natural circumstances. This is
understandable given the low development of the division of labour; if
everyone produces much the same range of articles as everyone else, there
will be little demand locally for exchange and, consequently, for an excess
production. It is not accidental, therefore, that in Marx's treatment of
the origin of exchange the level of productive growth is not the
generating cause but determines only its relative extent and significance
for the communities concerned, i.e. the degree to which production of
exchange comes to rule over or be subordinated by production for direct
consumption. -The'""following passage is particularly revealing it its
implications:

The exchange of commodities begins where communities have their

boundaries, at their points of contact with other .communities,
or with members of the latter. However, as soon as products have
become commodities in the external relations of a community,
they also, by reaction, become commodities in the internal life
of the community. Their quantitative exchange-relation is at
first determined ' purely by chance. They become exchangeable
through the mutual desire of their owners to alienate them. In
the meantime, the need for others' objects of utility gradually
establishes itself. The constant repetition of exchange makes it
a normal social process. In the course of time, therefore, at
least some part of the products must be produced intentionally
for the purpose of exchange. From that moment the distinction
between the usefulness of things for direct consumption and
their usefulness in exchange becomes firmly established. Their
use-value'tfecbmeT'distinguished from their exchange-value. On
the other hand, the quantitative proportion in which the things
are exchangeable becomes dependent on their production itself
[Capital 1:182].

[10] And, also: "the evolution of products into commodities arises through
exchange between different communities, not between the members of
the same community" [Capital 111:177].

119
 The Graeco-Roman world is, of course, no exception to this general rule.
Far from being self-sufficient, it lacked in essential supplies, such as
adequate grain produce and other foodstuffs, metals and other materials
Cef, Austin et al., 1977:113-3]. Indeed, the physical and productive
limitations of the classical world ran contrary to the cherised ideal of
self-sufficiency [autarkeia] which figures so prominently in ancient
ideology but which remained always an elusive chimera. [11] The inability
to attain self-sufficiency is not, however, a drawback exclusively
confined to Graeco-Roman antiquity and is therefore inadequate to explain
by itself the unique development of exchange that takes place. Rather, the
idiosyncracy of the classical world is to be traced to two of the most
important characteristics of its historical physiognomy, firstly, its
geographical setting and, secondly and more significantly, its specific
relations of production that lend it its specifically urban character.

We have already referred to the lack of attention on Marx's part to the

significance of the geography of the Graeco-Roman world, an omission which
is in no way commensurate to the emphasis he lays on the physical
characteristics of the classical antipode, i.e. Asiatic society. Yet the
growth of trade and commerce in Greece and Rome, which finds no parallel in
the Orient, presupposes, even by implication, quite different physical
circumstances to those of" Asia; namely, the geographically privileged
setting of the Mediterranean baisin which forms the background for the
explosive development of exchange activities on the basis of inter-social
contact as predicated by Marx. The world of the Mediterranean is
characterised by the absence of vast stretches of territory, an
environmental propinquity which could not but facilitate the contact
between different communities. What is more, the civilisation of classical
antiquity is remarkable for its predominantly coastal character. Most
ancient cities were either naval powers or themselves ports of trade and
the whole of the Graeco-Roman world spread over the shores of the easily
navigable and accessible Aegean, Egyptian, Ionian, Adriatic and Tyrrhenian

[11] The autarkic polis was always "a collective representation, an ideal,
rather than a historical reality" [Humphreys, 1970:9].

120
seas with relatively limited rural interiors. [12]

Even more important than geography in the growth of exchange relations

in antiquity, however, is its peculiarly urban character, itself a
characteristic of the ancient relations of production. In the previous
chapter we saw how the independent agrarian producer is the resident of a
town, i.e. of a concentration of landowners in a municipality with a
distinct physical presence of its own. "Urban citizenship", as Marx points
out, "resolves itself economically into the simple form that the
agriculturalist [is a] resident of a city" [Grundrisse:U8^]. This is
indeed the quintessence in Marx's conception of classical antiquity as
distinct from other precapitalist types. True, agriculture remains the
dominant domain of production in the ancient world as much as in the
Oriental and Germanic forms; but the presence of the city with a
permanency and separate identity of its own is characteristic of classical
antiquity alone. The ancient city is radically different from the cities
of Asia which only appear alongside the basic economic unit of the village
community either as purely commercial stations or as arbitrary creations
of the despot [cf. ibid:474]. It is equally different from the Germanic
communes which are characterised by the "periodic gathering together"
[ibid^SS] of independent farmers. The presence of the classical city is
neither accidental nor peripheral to Marx's conceptualisation of ancient
society but absolutely central to it. It is one of the most essential
features of the ancient relations of production since the direct agrarian
producer is defined as such only by reference to his being a citizen, i.e. a
member of the political union of fellow-producers, a member of the polis.
He is entitled to access to the means of production only as a citizen and
the very land he possesses and cultivates is his, only because it is part
of the city's territorium. "In the world of antiquity", therefore, "the
city with its territory is the economic totality" [ibid;il84].

[12] The significance of maritime transport cannot be underrated, since

water constituted the indispensable medium of communication and of
trade in societies with severe technical limitations that entailed
immense costs of production and transportation. This is
characteristically exemplified by Jones [19^:8*11-2], who points out
that, even in the late Roman Empire, it was cheaper to ship grain from
one end of the Mediterranean to the other than to cart it seventy
five miles by land.

121
 The existence of a permanent urban venue for the agricultural producers
is the primary promoting factor in the development of urban economic
activities (e.g. trade, market, credit, etc.) but also of manufacture and
the handicraft industry (especially in textiles, pottery, armoury, etc.).
This does not of course imply that classical antiquity went beyond the
confines of a predominantly agricultural economy; the ancient world
remained massively rural in its quantitative proportions. Yet the urban
element in it asserted a dominant presence precisely because of its
unprecedented uniqueness. Although urban economic activities remain small
and limited in comparison to the rural basis of production, one must not
lose sight of the fact that, in the context of a uniformly agricultural
world, "the net superiority they could yield to any agrarian economy over
any other might ... be decisive" [Anderson, 1974a:20]. Marx stresses this
comparative advantage of the ancient world when he observes that the
superiority of the people engaged in exchange practices in precapitalist
times rested on the very "barbarity" of the rest of the producing peoples
[Grundrlsse;858] who lacked precisely this urban edge in their
organisation. The development of urban economic activities in classical
antquity is not, therefore, to be understood but by the standards of
precapitalist societies which alone bring to the surface its comparative
economic precocity.

This relative prominence of an urban economy within a predominantly

agricultural production setting [131 is what lies behind Marx's comment
that "the history of classical antiquity is the history of cities, but of
cities founded on landed property and on agriculture" [Grundrisse:479].
And, indeed, the ancient world, despite its unique development of commerce
and manufacture, was never able to overcome the essentially agricultural
confines of its production; even the most urban of economic activities,
that of manufacturing industry, was never able to break its "more or less
landed-proprietary character" [ibid:107] and its dependence on
agriculture. In fact, the very people who were Initially involved in urban
economic activities (such as trade, manufacture and banking) were not
themselves members of the polis but alien settlers, like the met ics of

[13] Or what Anderson [1974a:23] poignantly describes as "the anomalous

supremacy of town over country".

122
Athens. Nevertheless, despite these intrinsic lim'-ations, exchange
relations, once established, were instrumental in widening the cleavage
between the communal and private elements of the structure of the polis.
The creation of an urban market slowly eroded the subsistence basis of
production and gradually transformed even much of the products of
agricultural labour into commodities, i.e. articles produced for the
purpose of exchange rather than direct consumption. The emergence of large
fortunes in money, in conjunction with the usurious practices of the rich,
precipitated the pauperisation of the small-holding citizens and the
consequent exacerbation of the class antagonism within the polis.

The combination of the corrosive influence of a rapidly developing

money economy on the ancient relations of production.with the ruination of
the land basis of the poor citizens triggers off a process that should
also be seen in concatenation with the effects of expansionism, which were
discussed in the previous chapter. Thus, Marx, speaks of the Roman nobles
who "amassed money by stealing it from the whole world", and of conquest
bringing "money in vast quantities" to the Roman patrician class
[ibid:223]. Slavery, carried in conquest's wake, further promoted the
growth of a money economy since production based on slave labour was
destined primarily for exchange. Besides, the very commercialisation of
slave labour gave rise to urban slave markets which increased even further
the flow of money into the economy.

The deleterious effects of exchange relations of the ancient system are

noted scrupulously by Marx who repeatedly stresses their antithesis. He
underlines the general fact that the original communal link drawing
producers together is undermined by the spread of money [cf. ibid:157]; and
he notes the irrevocable character of the development of exchange
relations which, once they become established, tend to dissolve the old
relations of production:

Trade will naturally react to varying degrees upon the

communities between which it is carried on. It will subjugate
production more and more to exchange value; push direct use
value more and more into the background; in that it makes
subsistence more dependent on the sale than on the immediate use
of the product. Dissolves old relations. Thereby increases money
circulation ...' However, the dissolving effect depends very much
on the nature of the producing communities between which it

123
 operates [ibid:858].

This 'dissolving effect', then, is evidently felt more widely and more
acutely in the communities of antiquity, where an incipient division of
wealth between poor and rich is already under way and where trade and
other exchange activities experience quite a unique degree of development.

Such an erosion ultimately effects the most sacrosanct of the elements

of the ancient relations of production, namely that of land tenure being
the exclusive right of a citizen, a member of the ancient commune. Although
land and soil were originally "exchange value only in a very restricted
sense" [ibid^O], they become increasingly commodified as a result of a
growing importance of exchange relations and the parallel process of
pauperisation of the small citizen/farmer. The strict adherence to the old
terms of land tenure is, thus, gradually abandoned as a result of the
consequences of warfare; of the continuing class struggle between rich and
poor citizens which involves the sale of confiscated property; and, lastly,
of the growing importance of alien settlers (such as the metics of Athens)
who engage in trade and manufacture and who concentrate large amounts of
money, with the consequence that they are increasingly being granted the
right of landownership. [14]

The original identity of citizenship and landownership and its

reproduction requirements meant that the citizens were primarily engaged
in agriculture and despised all activities associated with trade and urban
manufacture. As Marx observes:

In antiquity, urban occupation and trade little esteemed,

agriculture, however, highly ... Antiquity unanimously esteemed
agriculture as the proper occupation of the free man, the
soldier's school [ibid:477].

On the other hand, the urban character of classical antiquity and the
consumption requirements of the city created a vacuum which was not filled
by the citizen/agriculturalist. Thus, although in agriculture "the
ancestral stock of the nation sustains itself", this "changes in the

[14] On the original inalienability of land and its subsequent

commodification in Greece, cf. Pecirka [1963:193-200] and Finley
[1975:153-60]; see, also, note 3 supra.

124
cities, where alien merchants and dealers settle" [ibid]. But these alien
dealers are originally kept off from land ownership, precisely because the
citizens regard urban economic activities as corruptive and wish to
maintain the exclusivity of their position. Urban occupations are

not proper for a citizen: hence the opinion that admission of

the craftsmen to full citizenship rights would be a risky
undertaking (among the earlier Greeks they were as a rule
excluded) [ibid:478].

Yet the ascendancy of the urban market economy, combined with the effects
of warfare, slavery and the citizen class struggle, slowly but inexorably
denude land ownership from its original insulating mantle. The "legal
wall" [Finley, 1952:77] between metics and the land foundation of ancient
production is being brought down and non-citizens are no longer barred
from land ownership.

Such a development obviously constitutes a major attack on the ancient

social structure; fully alienable land signifies the negation of the
principle of citizenship cum landownership which forms its basis. The
destruction of the traditional rural character of the antique social
structure and the emergence of an increasingly urban, more market-
oriented, society is reflected in the ancient distinction between
oikonomia and chrematistlke. Ancient writers, as Marx's references to
Aristotle's chrematistics demonstrate [cf. Capital I:253~^n], underlined
the tension between, on the one hand, the original subsistence economy of
the agrarian oikos that was vanishing and was consequently being idealised
by the citizens who longed for the restoration of the old, broadly
egalitarian social order; and, on the other,.the effects of exchange, money,
trade and banking (all manifestations of chrematistike) which were
promoting inequality within the citizenry, and were thereby destroying the
very fabric of ancient society. The "corruptive" influence of trade and
manufacture [cf. Grundrisse:1^**-5] finds its climactic expression in the
appearance of money in its so-called "third role", that is as an end-in-
itself [cf.ibid:223]. "Hence the wailing of the ancients about money as the
source of all evil", for it is clear that "monetary greed, or mania for
wealth, necessarily brings with it the decline and fall of the ancient
communities" [ibid:222~3].

125
5.2 Classes and the Class Struggle

In the previous chapter, when we discussed the constitution of the

ancient relations of production, we looked into the definition of the
position of the slave as exactly antithetical to that of the citizen. That
of course preceded the examination of the interrelated factors in the
development of the ancient world which bring slavery, from its limited and
relatively insignificant patriarchal form, to the foreground of classical-^
society as the most extensive and dominant form of productive labour. Such
a transformation is evidently of cardinal importance in the history of
classical antiquity, for slavery dissolves the original relations of
production of the archaic polis and determines the physiognomy of the
developed ancient society. It is to the latter that we should now turn our
attention.

The problem, however, is addressed by Marx in a rather unsatisfactory

and unsystematic fashion. The explanation of this inadequacy lies probably
in the fact that the question of the '-internal periodisation" of antiquity
(i.e. of the transition from the original archaic social structure to a
society dominated by the slave mode of production) is not directly raised
as such by Marx. Slave society is accordingly not differentiated from its
archaic predecessor by a distinct conceptualisation; nor are all the
consequences of the transition fully explored. This analytical deficiency
is felt most acutely in the largely unbroached problem concerning the fact
that, with the extensive addition of slaves in ancient production, the main
class antagonisms of ancient society are no longer confined to those
within the citizen body but involve also those between the masses of
exploited slaves and their masters. Marx's lack of clarity on this issue is
evident in several fluctuating and somewhat erratic attempts to locate the
main form of the class straggle in antiquity. For example, at several
points in his work we find the suggestion that the class struggle in the
ancient world "took the form mainly of a contest between debtors and
creditors" [Capital 1:2333; or of that between "small and big landed
property", with slavery variably described as "naturally putting its
specific stamp en it" [Marx to Engels, March 8, 1855:505-6] or as merely
forming its "pa33ive pedestal" [Preface to the Second Edition of The

126
 .^ghteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte:! ^5]. On the other hand, however, in
the German Ideology the main class antithesis is designated as that
between citizens and slaves, with the expropriated proletarii occupying an
"intermediate position" between the two [op.cit.:22]. Finally, in the
Communist Manifesto a dual antithesis is put forward, namely that between
"freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian" [op.cit.:35], but with no
further temporal specification or any suggestion as to the correlation
between the two.

In the face of the indeterminate nature of the Marxian literature on

the problem, an analytical deduction of an answer will have to be
attempted. Although not solely or directly drawn from the literature, such
an answer will hopefully approximate what should have been the logical
conclusion by Marx on the basis of his conception of antiquity as outlined
so far. This, of course, cannot but render the whole exercise a speculative
character besides making the line of demarcation between exegesis and
substance unavoidably thinner. Such drawbacks, however, do not diminish
completely its relevance and usefulness in so far as it offers the
opportunity to tackle certain analytical problems, that have already been
raised, from a new angle. In particular, it will be suggested that the
class struggle in classical antiquity during its developed phase takes
place on two distinct but interrelated planes involving, on the one hand,
slaves and their masters, and, on the other, the continuation of the old
antithesis within the citizenry, albeit with a significantly modified
content.

We have already seen in what sense the later stage of antiquity is

dominated by the slave mode of production. Its production relations
counterpose a class of servile immediate producers to a class of non-
producers who extract and live on the surplus of the formers* labour. The
distinctiveness of this mode lies in the fact that surplus is extracted by
right of ownership of the whole of the labour of the slave as well as his
person. Under relations of production in which political determinations
are engraved, the slave's political unfreedom is the basis of his economic
servitude. The slave is not legally regarded as a person but as an
instrumentum vocale, a tool that speaks. Unlike the citizen, the slave is
totally deprived of a legal existence and has no means of representation

127
at the political level; he thus stands effectively "outside the social
life" of antiquity [Konstan, 1975:154] which remains throughout dominated
by free men. As we saw in the discussion of the divisions within the
citizen body, the antagonism between classes is expressed through
politics; the objectives of the poor citizens' struggle have political as
well as economic content (e.g. distribution of public land, debt-remission,
legal limitations on the level of interest for credit, changes in the
legal conditions of direct individual.,..appropriation, etc.) and. can be
realised only by means of legislative enactment and political action. But
it is only citizens that are capable of such action, since they alone are
regarded as political subjects. Slaves, by contrast, are by definition
excluded from any participation, or indeed presence, in the political
arena. The slaves, therefore, may not appear as a class since the visible
terms of class organisation are denied them because of their unfreedom.

This lack of a visible class presence at the political level has

prompted many a scholar to the view that slaves cannot be regarded as
constituting a class. [15] Yet class is principally determined by the
position of the agent in a production system under determinate relations
of production. In the case of classical antiquity, these relations place
the slave in the position of the exploited direct producer by denying him
any political rights whatsoever. In the slave mode of production slaves
are the immediate producers on whose exploitation society principally
rests, but this specific exploitation is itself based on the fact that
they are politically unfree. Politics remains the privileged domain of
free men, of the members of the polis, and all producers under conditions
of servitude are excluded from it. Once thi3 fusion of economic and
political determinations is made clear, we can comprehend the paradox of
3laves constituting a class by virtue of their being deprived of any
political existence, which is precisely the fact that compels them to the
role of the immediate exploited producer. Slaves constitute a class, in

[15] Cf., e.g., Austin et al. [1977:22-3] who reject the notion that slaves
constitute a class and accept as clas3 struggle only the antagonism
within the citizen'body. For a more extreme view, cf. Runciman [1983]
who denies the existence of classes in Rome because he views
conscious political organisation as the prerequisite for class
status.

128
other words, not in spite of being but because they are unfree. Their
condition of political and legal servitude may preclude them from emerging
as a visibly compact organised social force, but it is this that also defines
them as a distinct class. On the other hand, if slavery cannot be defined
solely by political criteria, neither can it be arrived at by
concentrating on the strictly economic and technical position of the slave
without any reference to the political determination of the relations of
production. The inadequacy of purely economic criteria in the definition
and explanation of slavery becomes transparent when we turn to those
instances in which slaves and free men find themselves working alongside
each other, as was the case in some manufacturing workshops in Athens
[cf.Finley, 1960:56]. In similar instances slaves and free but poor
citizens are confronted by the same production tasks, yet their class
position remains different.

The exclusion of slaves from the political life of antiquity made one
possible form of sustained slave opposition that of the retardation of the
process of production; of this form more will be said in the next chapter
where Marx's ideas on the limitations of the ancient world are discussed.
Discontent at the practices of exploitation was also expressed in slave
attempts to flee the estates to which they were confined; and, more
importantly, in periodic eruptions of slave rebellions which at times came
to threaten the very existence of the ancient order. [16] What is
extremely interesting in the class struggle between slaves and their
masters is its content and, in particular, the slaves' demands; the slaves
are primarily interested in manumission, the gaining of their freedom, and,
in the case of first-generation slaves, the return to their native lands
[cf. Konstan, 1975:1 69n]. [17] Thus, apart from the fact that the results of
this class struggle were invariably disappointing for the slaves'

[16] Such were",-Trr"ihstance, the famous First Sicilian War (135-131 BC)
and the Spartacus Uprising 73-71 BC) in Rome. On the former, see the
paper by Green [1961], while for a short and informative account of
the latter, see Grant [1971:19-26].
[17] One should not of course forget that slaves revolted also when
incited by opportunist leaders whose objectives were not always
identical with the emancipatory aspirations of the slaves. Such was
the case, for example, with the First Sicilian Slave War -and its
leader, the Syrian Eunus, who "declared himself king by the name of
Antiochus [cf. Green, 1961:24].

129
cause, [18] what is even more striking is the character of this cause. The
slaves do not fight for a reconstitution of society on a new basis, but for
manumission and repatriation, i.e. for the restoration, in effect, of an old
social order in which they hope they can attain the rights they lack,
namely, those of free men. The character of the class struggle between
slaves and their masters in antiquity is, therefore, the exact opposite
from that in capitalism. In the latter, the broadly analogous class
position of the proletariat as the most exploited section of society is
materialised, in a struggle whose objective is the establishment of a
radically new social order in which all social divisions are abolished.
This revolutionary content of the class struggle in capitalism contrasts
3harply with the restorative nature of the slaves' class objectives in
antiquity whose main ambition is effectively to be placed on an equal par
with the citizen population. [19]

The nature of the class antithesis between slaves and their masters is
furthermore interesting for the relative infrequency of slave revolts
which, generally speaking, occur only sporadically in the history of
antiquity. Why is it, in other word3, that, despite the actual opposition
between slaves and their exploiters, it is only rarely that this inherent
antagonism surfaces in the form of overt class struggle? An answer can
probably be attempted on the basis of Marx's general designation of the
social relations of antiquity. Its elaboration sets off from A. Giddens'
distinction between 'contradiction' and 'conflict' which provides a useful
theoretical framework for the explanation of this phenomenon. Giddens
[1979:141] defines "contradiction" as the "disjunction of structural
principles", the opposition of interests intrinsic in the very structure
of society, while "conflict" stands for the occurrence of overt struggle.
He suggests that "conflict and contradiction have a tendency to coincide,
but that there are various sets of circumstances that can serve to

[18] For, as Engels points out, "antiquity did not know any abolition of
slavery by a victorious rebellion" [Origln:565].
[19] Cf. Engels's contrast between slave and wage labourer which helps to
bring this discontinuity to the surface: "The slave frees himself by
abolishing, among all the private property relationships, only the
relationship of slavery ... [3ut -PL] the proletarian can free himself
only by abolishing private property in general" [Principles of
Communism: 3^^].

130
distance the one from the other" [ibid:144], It is the presence of such
"circumstances" that seem to distance class divisions from overt class
struggle in classical antiquity; or, to put it differently, "circumstances"
that do not allow the inherent opposition cf interests between slave and
master to materialise into overt conflict.

Three sets of circumstances are designated; namely, the "dispersion of

contradictions", the "opacity of action", and "direct repression". The
"dispersion of contradictions" expresses the possibility that "the
tendency of contradiction to involve conflict is weakened to the degree to
which contradictions are kept separate from each over" [ibid:1 4*1-5]. Now,
we saw that, under the relations of production of antiquity, slaves are, by
definition, deprived of any form of political rights and, consequently, of
all representation on the political plane on which "relations between
classes are realised" [Hindess et al., 1975:85]. Thus, slaves do not appear
in the political arena, "since class struggles were generated and acted
out within a socio-political framework from which slaves were by
definition excluded" [Vernant, 1976:77]. The vacuum created by the
inability of slaves to intervene actively on the political level is,
however, filled by the antagonism between the wealthy free men and their
expropriated and impoverished fellow-citizens, which continues to
dominate, undiminished, the political life of antiquity. We are thus
confronted with the presence of

two complementary but opposing modes of development in the

contradictions of the system: on the one hand, the
contradictions between free men were directly visible at the
political level and could be the object of explicit political
action and change; on the other hand, the contradictions between
slaves and free men could only appear on the political level
indirectly and could not become the object of political action
and change for the slaves [Godelier, 1977b:24].

This duality of opposition of class interests"ensures the dispersal of

contradictions at the disadvantage of the slaves. J.~P.Vernant, following
C. Perrain [19631, has attempted the establishment of hierarchy of the
"dispersed contradictions". He argues [cf. Vernant, 1976:76-8] that, once
slave labour is extensively employed in antiquity, we have to speak of two
distinct, yet co-existing and interrelated, contradictions that are rooted
in the structure of ancient society. On the one hand, a "fundamental"

131
contradiction between slave and master which corresponds to the specific
character of a mode of production that is based on slavery. And, on the
other hand, a "principal" or "dominant" contradiction that applies to the
division of the citizen body into two conflicting classes and indicates
which social groups are visibly opposed under relations of production that
allow access to the political plane only to free men.

The second set of circumstances distancing contradiction from conflict

in Giddens's scheme is the "opacity of action" by which he means the
"degree of penetration by actor3 of the conditions of their action and its
involvement in the reproduction of social systems" [Giddens, 1979:144], The
significance of the 'knowledgeability' of actors of their class position
in bridging or further widening the cleavage between contradiction and
conflict is indeed paramount in the understanding of the nature of the
slave class struggle. For one, the slaves' exclusion from the political
domain also deprived them of the means whereby an elementary organisation
and the emergence of a collective class awareness was at all possible:

The specific nature of these relations of production or their

political essence placed the slave, ..., beyond any polity, and
prevented him from becoming politically conscious of his lot
and from uniting with other 3laves [Godelier, 1977b:233.

Additional factors disadvantaged the slaves even more in this respect.

Among the Athenian slaves, for instance, their multi-ethnic origin and
polyglottism precluded their collective organisation and is largely to
account for the absence of slave revolts in classical Athens [cf.
Ste.Croix, 1981:146], [20] By contrast, the ethnic homogeneity of the
helots in Sparta, most of whom were of Messeneian origin, ensured their
solidarity in opposition to their Spartan masters.

Finally, the third set of circumstances designated by Giddens is that

of "direct repression" or of "how far force and violence (or its threat)
can be successfully employed to forestall the emergence of conflict as
overt class struggle" [Giddens, 1979:145]. The use of violence against
slaves was a common feature of slave-holding in antiquity, as is evinced

[20] On the multi-national composition of the slaves of Rome, see Gordon

[1960].

132
by the ruthless and bloody repression of all instances of slave opposition
throughout the ancient world. [21] What is more, the citizen body, however
divided itself, tended to maintain a united bloc against the unfree
subjects of the state. This is evident in the citizen's awareness of his
superiority and the unquestioned acceptance of social and political
inequality as external and natural. As Engels remarks in this context:

Among the Greeks and Romans the inequalities of men were of much
greater importance than their equality in any respect. It would
necessarily have seemed insanity to the ancients that Greeks
and barbarians, freemen and slaves, citizens and peregrines,
Roman citizens and Roman subjects (to use a comprehensive term)
should have a claim to equal political status [Anti-
j)hring:128]. [22]

Overall, then, the three sets of circumstances outlined above made it

exceptionally difficult for slaves to take direct and sustained class
action. As Vernant [1976:77] sums up their predicament:

As long as the system of the classical city state remained alive

- in its economic structures, in its institutions and in its way
of thinking - the slaves could not form an active, unified
social force, a united body of men intervening in a way which
reflected their interests and their aspirations.

And it is interesting to note that the very few manifestations of overt

class conflict between slaves and their masters occurred, by and large,
when one or more of the aforementioned sets of circumstances were
relatively weak. Thus, for example, in the First Sicilian Slave War, it was
a favourable conjuncture of factors that allowed the unification of the
slaves of Sicily under the leadership of the Syrian Eunus; in the period
prior to the revolt, Roman troops in Sicily were largely absent and Rome

[21] Thus, for xmpIT the losses in slave manpower on the aftermath of
the Spartacus Uprising numbered, according to Livy, over one hundred
thousand.
[22] This attitude is reflected very clearly in Plutarch's interpretation
of Plato's socio-political doctrine: "[The equality -PL] the many aim
at is the greatest of all injustices and God has removed it out of
the world as being unattainable; but he protects and maintains the
distribution of things according to merit ..." [cited in Farrington,
1939:29-30]. For an extensive discussion of ancient attitudes towards
social inequality and slavery in particular, see Ste.Croix [1981:416-
25].

133
itself was undergoing a period of severe internal turmoil due to the
Gracchan struggles for the Roman poor. Nor is it accidental that mass
escapes of slaves tended to occur when the repressive mechanisms of the
state were weak due to internal circumstances or the vicissitudes of war.

The lacuna left by the slaves' overall inability for overt class
struggle is filled by the "principal" or "dominant" contradiction, that
between wealthy and impoverished citizens. Their struggle, dominant and
highly visible on the political level, continues unabated for a long time
but a significant qualitative modification has by now come upon it. The
ruination of the small citizen/farmer by forcible expropriation, military
service, indebtedness, taxation and slavery means, in effect, that he has
been gradually deprived of the property supports of his citizenship
status. His is now

the relation of a member of the original community based on land

ownership who has lost his landed property ..., such as the Roman
plebs at the time of the bread and circuses
[Grundrisse:500]. [233

How, then, can the poor citizens continue to be regarded as a distinct

class in the developed stage of antiquity? [24] The answer seems to lie in
the fact that the whole process of the development of classical antiquity
does not immediately affect the formal qualities of citizenship. Poor
citizens, although' largely deprived of the original substance of
citizenship (i.e. of private landownership), nevertheless retained for a
considerable time their citizenship and the privileges this entitled them

[23] The chronology of the transition to the stage at which a large

section of the citizen population becomes propertyless is not of
course established by Marx. Some indications do exist, however, which
point towards the fact that, while not broaching the subject
directly, he has some idea as to the differences between the rapidity
of this process in Rome and its relatively slow pace in Greece; thus,
for instance, he points out that "at the date of the fall of the
thirty Tyrants there were still less than 5,000 Athenians without
landed property" [Capital I:487n],
[24] Engels refers to them, quite explicitly, as a distinct class: "When,
in the decline of the Roman Republic, the free Italian peasants were
expropriated from their farms, they formed a class of 'poor whites'
similar to that of the Southern Slave States before 1361" [Preface to
the American Edition of The Condition of the Working-class in
England: 4 7 4].

134
 to, especially with regard to the appropriation of some part of the social
surplus. What happens, in other word3, is that "appropriation by right of
citizenship remains and only its institutional support in concrete social
relations has changed" [Hindess et al., 1975:90]. These rights of
appropriation involved, above all, the access by those holding citizenship
status to various state redistribution schemes, such as corn doles, state
pay, and even the selling of votes [cf. Finley, 1983a:33~6], all of which
enabled them to scrap a meagre but fairly stable living (the proverbial
bread and circuses' of Rome). The total urbanisation of these expropriated
and, therefore, unemployed citizens increased their strategic position in
the political terrain, since they were able to exert, by mere continuous
physical presence in the city, a sustained pressure on the wealthy
citizens. This, in turn, compelled the latter to such concessions as were
necessary for the temporary pacification of the poor. Coupled with the
total debarment of slaves from public life, the poor citizens' continuous
and idle presence in the city which increased their influence as voters
and obliged the wealthy class to take note of them as a troublesome and
potentially dangerous group, resulted in an upswing of the political
struggles within the citizen body. This, however, was radically different
from the original form of the citizen conflict, since, by that time, the
poor citizen population was landless. We are therefore confronted by the
curious phenomenon of an increase in "the dominant importance of political
life" at a time when the original "integration of political and economic
activity began to break down" [Humphreys, 1970:13].

While, then, the wealthy strive to restrict full membership in the

political commune, the poor struggle for its maintenance which still
entitles them to a share in the state revenues. This limited but
nonetheless real success of the poor cannot be explained but by reference
to the survival of remnants of the political constitution which gave
- access to all members of the commune to state property. [25] Of course, the
very possibility of a disposal of state property among the citizen body
has also to be understood in conjunction with the increase in proceed

[25] "The existence of state property and the determination of rights in

respect of it by the political institutions of the body of citizens
defines the field of political class conflict among the citizens of
the ancient state" [Hindess et al., 1975:82].

135
brought about by imperialism and the extensive exploitation of slaves.
This i3 what happens, for instance, in Athens in the wake of its period of
imperial expansion and its transition to a slave economy:

The amount of land available, .,., in Attica was naturally

limited, but the wealth produced by slavery or imperialism was
not, and the communal state ensured that it was available to all
Athenians. Citizens therefore did not actually need land to
remain citizens - all that was required was citizen birth__...
[Padgug, 1975:101]. " ~~~"

But, in spite of the fact that the continuation of the survival of the poor
as citizens was due to the communal elements of the city, their total
dependence on the state signifies, in effect, the degeneration of the
principle upon which citizenship originally rested. The wide introduction
of state redistribution schemes may therefore be seen as the substitution
for landownership as the genuine presupposition of citizenship; thus, in
Athens, "by the fourth century the citizen's status was symbolized
economically by state pay rather than by landholding" [Humphreys, 1970:7].

This adulteration of the ancient relations of production brings us back

again to the question of the character of the class of impoverished
citizens in the developed stage of antiquity. In what sense exactly do
they constitute a class? The changes brought about by slavery, imperialism
and indebtedness have deprived them of their land. Their state of
impecuniosity could be compared to that of slaves, or even to that of wage
labourers in capitalism (who are similarly excluded from ownership of the
means of production), were it not for a cardinal difference: the
expropriated citizens of late antiquity are not directly involved in the
process of production. Once they have been expropriated from their land,
they are without work, a"mob of do-nothings" [Marx to Otechestvenniye
Zapiski:29U], and cannot, therefore, be regarded as constituting a class by
virtue of forming part of the producing population. Yet, as long as they
manage to hang on to the last vestigee of the ancient relations of
production, i.e. as long as they retain their citizenship rights, they have
3 t m access to the proceeds of production. The political determination of
their citizenship status entitles them to a share, however small, of the
social surplus which guarantees them the minimum level of subsistence.
Moreover, their privileged position vis-a-vis the slaves, who are totally

136
barred from political life, enables them to acquire a certain degree of
organisation as a class and, thereby, a visible political presence. [26]

Consequently, what the development of classical society entails for the

class struggle within the citizen body is mainly the transformation of the
poor citizens from direct producers into a section of the non-labouring
population which, albeit itself dispossessed, lives on the exploitation of
unfree labour by virtue of its maintenance of citizenship rights. This,
however, signifies an anomalous situation whereby the proletari! of late
antiquity appear as absolutely superfluous to the production system as a
whole. Their "intermediate position between propertied citizens and
slaves" [German Ideology.22] means that they belong neither to- the direct
exploiters of labour nor to the exploited direct producers. Therefore,
their existence is, to all intents and purposes, utterly parasitic, since
it is no longer presupposed for the continuation of production. This
contrasts sharply the Roman proletari 1 with the proletarians of
capitalism, a fact that is stressed by Marx who reminds us of Sismondi's
expression that "the Roman proletariat lived at the expense of society,
while modern society lives at the expense of the proletariat" [Preface to
the Second Edition of The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte:1 ^5].

The poor citizens, then, gradually become only a distant reminder of the
beginnings, of classical civilisation when the "presupposition of the
survival of the community" had been "the preservation of equality among
its free self-sustaining peasants, and their own labour as the condition
of the survival of their property" [Grundrisse:^76]. This presupposition,
however, has by now been irrepairably undermined in the course of the
reproduction of the contradictory social structure of antiquity and of its
effects (i.e. the growth of exchange, imperialism, slavery, and the
unbridgeable divisions in the citizen body). The ancient equality has gone
for ever, the property of the poor citizens has disappeared and direct

[26] This, of course, does not mean that their political representation is
necessarily genuine. In Rome, for instance, the existence of legal and
property qualifications for public office resulted, more than often,
in the plebs falling prey to the ambitions of upper-class opportunist
leaders who could rally their support under populist slogans. On
these politicians, known as populres, see Ste.Croix [1981:352] and
Brunt [1974].

137
Citizen labour has been displaced by slave labour. Of course, the
impoverished citizens try to hang on to the last remnants of the unity of
political status and economic privileges, but the anomaly of their
situation, the "discrepancy between 'charter' and reality" [Humphreys,
1970:25], is real and ever-increasing. The expropriated citizens have lost
the economic supports of their institutional position as members of the
polis and, because of the acute threat to their precarious existence as
free men, they resist fiercely and with all the political muscle they can
still muster the attack on'the TastTof their citizenship rights. But the
substance of the original unity of politics and economics in the ancient
relations of production has been fundamentally corrupted and their
citizenship status is increasingly becoming an empty letter, a remnant of
the past. The original contradiction of the production relations, that
between the centripetal communal and the centrifugal private elements of
the polis, has become even sharper and the cleavage between poor and rich
citizens has been irrepairably widened with the utter deprivation of the
former. The victory of the .increasing inequality between the citizens over
their original communality signifies precisely the disintegration of the
ancient relations of production and the unity of politics and economics
that they implied. [27]

This process of dissolution had begun with the gradual drawing together
of the propertied citizens and wealthy non-citizens on the basis of their
common economic interests when the gap within the citizen body was being
widened by war, slavery and exchange. Even in Athens, the process whereby
the rigid division of citizens from non-citizens was undermined had been
well under way from the beginnings of its period of decline:

By the fourth century that division had begun to seem outmoded.

The differences between wealthy citizens and wealthy metics
were disappearing and the two groups were drawn together by
common economic interests ... The citizen poor and the poorer
metics began to draw together also, and both groups in many ways
approached the economic position of slaves. The drawing together
of the poorer elements ... was not, of cours, a deliberate policy
nor was it at all desired by the poorer citizens, who fought it

[27] Cf. Padgug [1975:108]: "The internal dissolution of the citizen state
was a first step towards the separation of politics and economics,
for it was the conflict between thern that caused the dissolution."

138
 bitterly [Padgug, 1975:109].

This incipient process found its climax in the history of Rome, where it
was precipitated by an unprecedented imperial expansion which abolished
completely the original territorial integrity and autonomy of the city-
state system. The Roman Empir caused the irrevocable dilution of the
principles upon which the ancient polis rested by the unification of
states, and alien cultures, by the creation of large professional armies,
bureaucratic apparatuses and powers of taxation, and by the rise of a
cosmopolitan propertied class beyond the confines of ancient society
proper. [28]

The melting-pot of the Roman Empire signalled the last days of the old
connection between citizenship and landholding whose dissolution had
already been under way. Marx refers to Niebuhr with regard to the fact
that, even as early as the time of Augustus, the old dependency relations
and political -distinctions had begun to give way to pure wealth
differentials in class divisons [cf. Grundrisse:501~2]. Among the free
population the emergence of the distinction between honestores and
humeliores on the basis of economic criteria does indeed "cut across that
between citizens and aliens" [Garnsey, 197^:163]. Citizenship had been
losing even its formal exclusive character from the early Principate
onwards, when its granting to peregrines who had served in non-citizen
auxiliary regiments of the Roman army became institutionalised [cf.
Ste.Croix, 1981:46l ]. The climax of the dissolving process of the
citizenship-foundation of the ancient relations of production was finally
reached with the constitutio Antoniana in AD 212, [29] which granted Roman
citizenship to almost all the non-slave subjects of the empire. What this
amalgamation indicates by the sheer massiveness of its scope, is precisely

[28] "The levelling plane of Roman world power had been pasing for
centuries over all the Mediterranean countries. Where the Greek
language offered no resistance all national languages gave way to a
corrupt Latin. There were no longer any distinction of nationality,
no more Gauls, Iberians, Ligurians, Noricans; all had become Romans.
Roman administration and Roman law had everywhere dissolved the old
bodies of consanguinei and thus crushed the last remnants of local
and national self-expression. The new-fangled Romanism could not
compensate for this loss; it did not express any nationality, but only
lack of nationality" [0rigin:558].
[29] Originally introduced for taxation expediency.

139
;he fact that the once rigidly exclusive citizen status had by then lost
men of its former substantial content. [30] This extensive los3 of
lolitical privilege, ironically symbolised by its indiscriminate
iniversalisation, may be seen a3 the terminus ad quem of the internal
levelopment of the original social structure of antiquity, since it puts
.he formal stamp on the disappearance of a large part of the exclusivity
if citizenship rights. As Engel3 observes in a reference to Roman law:

Under the Roman Empire all these distinctions gradually

disappeared, except the distinction between freemen and slaves,
and in this way there arose, for the freemen at least, that
equality as between private individuals on the basis of which
Reman law developed - the completeat elaboration of law based on
private property which we know [Anti-Duhring:1 28].

50] For, as Sherwin-Whita C1973:2733 has written with discernible

meiosis, the wholesale extension of. citizenship under Caracalla "must
have led to some practical limitation of a right which would have
become a nuisance when universalized."

140
 6. THE LIMITS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD

The development of exchange relations and the concentration of money-

wealth in classical antiquity, to an extent unique among all other
precapitalist types, suggest an ostensible analogy with capitalism. [1] In
the present chapter Marx's thoughts on this issue are explored, so that the
reasons precluding the evolution of the ancient world to a capitalistic
society can be revealed. The exercise is intended as a preparation for the
extensive elaboration, in Part III, of the idea of discontinuity between
capitalism and precapitalist!! that seems to pervade Marx's historical
writings in contradistinction to the universal and uniform causation of
his general theory of history. Lastly, the present analysis of the
limitations of antiquity is concluded with an attempt at pieceing together
Marx's very fragmented references to the final act in the history of
antiquity, i.e. the disintegration of the Roman Empire.

The problem of the limitations of the ancient world lies in an apparent

paradox. On the one hand, one of the most significant repercussions of .the
combined processes of imperialism, the ruination of the freeholding
peasantry, the extensive exploitation of slave labour, and the spread of
exchange practices, is the amassment of moneyed wealth in the hands of a
minority. On the other hand, however, the presence of such concentrated
money capital does not give rise to capitalist relations; on the contrary,
it signals the decay of the ancient world and its ultimate disintegration.
Why is that so? Why is the role of money only dissolving and negative but
not positively transformative, regenerating, so to speak, classical
society and carrying it up onto a higher social order? To attempt an
answer to this question we "hve" to-look closer into what 'capital' in
classical antiquity actually consists of. And it becomes instantly obvious

[1] The ostensible similarity of the ancient world to capitalism has

indeed been a recurring issue of controversy in classical
scholarship. For a concise account of the debate on whether classical
antiquity was characterised by capitalistic economic relations, see
the paper by Pearson [1957].
141
that money in the ancient world is concentrated in the hands of people who
are either involved in exchange activities alone (i.e. traders, merchants)
or who operate on the periphery, as it were, of the process of production
(i.e. usurers, money-lenders). Commercial or money-lending capital,
aowever, is by definition excluded from production proper and this
ntails, for Marx, that its transformative impact on production is, in the
"inai analysis, extremely circumscribed.

Merchant's capital is based, as Marx remarks,on "profit upon alienation"

Capital 111:329], on the act, that is,of buying cheap and selling dear. It
s wealth created in and dominating the circulating sphere alone. In a
ubsistence economy, i.e. in an economy that 13 based on the production of
se values, merchant's capital seizes only the surplus of production and
proceeds only on its margin" [Grundrisse:253], transforming use values
nto exchange values in the sphere of circulation alone. This relative
^e-eminence of exchange over use values is, however, entirely reversed in
-oduction itself which remains overwhelmingly geared to use values. It is
lis very disparity between production and circulation spheres that
.lows merchant's capital to flourish. Merchant's capital derives from the
idiation between separate production units, not from the control over
em; it 'presupposes' but does not itself 'posit' the conditions of
oduction [cf. ibid:255]. Consequently, merchant's capital can have very
ttle transformative impact on the relations of production for its very
ason of existence precludes any transformation and, if anything, depends
the continuation and maintenance of such production relations. Its
~ginality thus explains, for Marx, its ineffectivity. Its mere presence
?s not suffice for the transformation of the existing relations of
Dduction, for, if capital appears only in its commercial or circuiting
m, this can only mean that "it has as yet by no means become the
mdatlon of production" [ibid:253].

The same holds, by and large, for usurer's capital too. Marx believes
t money-lending capital reached its highest development in Rome, where
usurer's parasitic role attracted the popular hatred of the small
eholding peasant; usury, let it be remembered, was the chief means by
oh the citizen was deprived of his plot of land and thereby of his
sf claim to commune membership. Usury itself, however, stands outside

142
the immediate process of production since it rests on its continuation
despite the fact that it may have a most destructive effect upon it. As
Marx puts it, usury depends on the

exorbitant interest which it attracts, the interest which,

irrespective of its magnitude, it extorts from the primary
producer ... It transforms its money into capital by extorting
unpaid labour, surplus labour, from the immediate producer. But
it does not intervene in the process of production itself, which
proceeds in its traditional fashion, as it always had done. In
part it thrives on the withering away of this mode of
production, in part it is a means to make it wither away, to
force it to eke out a vegetable existence in the most
unfavourable conditions [Results;! 0233

The failure of usurer's capital to subsume production under its control

makes its role radically different from that of money-lending in
capitalism where it is directly involved in production. Hence Marx's
rejection of any analogy between (unproductive) forms of usury in
precapitalism and (productive) capitalist credit, despite their formal
similarity. For, as he characteristically remarks, "borrowing and lending
no more constitute credit than working constitutes industrial labour or
free wage labour" [Grundrisse:535]. [2]

The presence of commercial and usurious capital is, therefore, by no

means sufficient for the emergence of capitalist relations of production.
This, of course, does not imply .that the growth of money wealth has no
impact on the ancient social structure. As we saw in the previous chapter,
money increasingly erodes the ancient relations of production and greatly
contributes to their degeneration for the "mania for wealth" is the
"antithesis" to their communal presupposition [ibid:223J. Besides, capital,
apart from its negative role, was never free of political determinations
in antiquity. Marx refers, for instance, to the fact that the fixing of the
value of.money in Rome was subject to imperial intervention. [3] And he

[2] A possible exception to the generally unproductive and parasitic

character of money-lending in antiquity may have been the maritime or
bottomry loan [nautikon daneion] in Athens [cf. Austin et al.,
1977:148].
[3] "It was a maxim of Roman law that the value of money was fixed by
Imperial decree. It was expressly forbidden to treat money as a
commodity. 'Pecuniae vero nulli emere fas er it, nam in usu publico
constitutas oportet non esse mercem'" [Capital :85-6
1 43
also points out that money attained some degree of autonomy only towards
the last phase of the ancient world. [4] The role of capital, and of
exchange relations in general, is therefore designated by both its
dissolving influence and its inability to produce a positive
transformation of the ancient relations of production. Its impact is
paramount yet negative, destructive but ultimately ineffective. [5]

What, then, precludes the development of capitalist relations out of

the ruins of the ancient world? Or, to put it differently, what inhibits
the involvement of money wealth, of capital, in production itself? The
answer to this lies evidently in the dominant form of labour in antiquity
ihich never attains a degree of freedom comparable co that of wage labour
in capitalism. The mere presence of monetary wealth cannot by itself bring
change to the basis of production relations, or else, as Marx
iharacteristically puts it, "ancient Rome, Byzantium etc. would have ended
heir history with free labour and capital, or rather begun a new history"
ibid:506].

The question that consequently follows is what prevents the emergence

f wage labour in antiquity, why labour-power does not become
changeable, i.e. itself a commodity. [6] An obvious candidate is that of
le expropriated citizens; the Roman proletarii are free but driven off

:
] "And even in the most advanced parts of the ancient world, among the
Greeks and Romans, the full development of money, which is
presupposed in modern bourgeois society, appears only in the period
of their dissolution" [Grundrissen 03]. Cf., also, Capital 1:172.
3 This is the meaning of S. Arnin's point when he thinks of Greece as one
of those "exceptional precapitalist formations in which commodity
exchange performs decisive (although not dominant) functions" [cited
in Padgug, 1975:95-6].
] The only case of wage labour in antiquity, according to Marx, is that
of the Roman army in the days when it is no longer a citizen army but
one composed of mercaneries. Marx singles out this exception on a
number of occasions [cf., e.g., Grundrisse: 103, ^68, 893 and Marx to
Engels, September 25, 1857:91]; he takes notice of the fact that, like
the workers in capitalism, the mercaneries sell their labour time to
an employer - in this case, the Roman state - for pay [Sold] which is
determined by the minimum costs necessary to procure them. This,
however, is hardly a productive form of labour, since the soldier's
time is not directed towards the production of values [cf.
Grundrisse:529n], For other limited form3 of hired labour in
antiquity, such as labour for public works, etc., see Ste.Croix
[1981:179-2014].

1HH
their land; they swell the ranks of the workless populum in the city and
they, therefore, present some of the qualities of potential wage labourers,
since they are alienated from the means of production and thus apparently-
available for wage employment. On the other hand, however, the proletari!,
wretched as their existence may be, nevertheless hang tenaciously to the
last semblances of citizenship which entitle them to various state
benefices that ensure their survival even in a vegetative state. More
importantly, they are not sought after as producers, for production is
dominated by slaves. It is because they stand "midway between freemen and
slaves", that they never succeed in becoming anything more "than a
proletarian rabble" [German Ideology:72], And, accordingly, it is to the
dominance of slave labour that the search for an answer has to focus.

For Marx, the essence of capitalist production consists in the bringing

together of capital with labour-power as an exchangeable value, a
commodity. But the slave, being himself a commodity, is not free to dispose
of his labour by selling it to an employer. [7] Thus, the absence of free
labour, of labour-power as a commodity, also excludes capital from
production itself and makes its role radically different from that in
capitalism. Consequently, the non-commodification. of labour-power in
antiquity renders the presence of money largely unproductive. It
necessarily confines money to a narrow sphere of circulation, places it
outside production proper. This is what happens, for instance, with
merchant's capital. It erodes old relations, it even extends the scale and
promotes the scope of slavery through the development of slave markets,
but it is not directly involved in the mode of production itself, nor does
it affect the essential relation of servile dependence. Marx sums up this
determination of the effectivity of merchant's capital by the existing
relations of production by contrasting its differential role in antiquity
and in capitalism:

[7] "In the slave relation, [the producer -PL] belongs to the individual,
particular owner, as his labouring machine. As a totality of force-
expenditure, as labour capacity, he is a thing [Sache] belonging to
another, and hence does not relate as subject to his particular
expenditure of force, nor to the act of living labour ... In the slave
relation the worker is nothing but a living labour-machine, which
therefore has a value for others, or rather is a value" [Grundrisse:
4611-5].
145
 The development of commerce and merchant's capital gives rise
everywhere to the tendency towards production of exchange-
values, increases its volume, multiplies it, makes it
cosmopolitan, and develops money into world-money. Commerce,
therefore, has a more or less dissolving influence everywhere on
the producing organisation, which it finds at hand ... [But -PL]
whither this process of dissolution will lead, ..., does not
depend on commerce but on the character of the old mode of
production itself. In the ancient world the effect of commerce
and the development of merchant's capital always resulted in a
slave economy ... However, in the modern world, itresults in the
capitalist mode of production. It follows" therefrom that these
results spring in themselves from circumstances other than the
development of merchant's capital [Capital III:331~2j.

e same limitations hold for usurer's capital too:

To the extent that slavery prevails, ..., the mode of production

still remains the same; it only becomes harder on the labourer.
The indebted slave-holder ... becomes more oppressive because he
is himself more oppressed. Or he finally makes way for the
usurer, who becomes a landed proprietor or a slave-holder
himself, like the knights in ancient Rome. The place of the old
exploiter, whose exploitation was more or less patriarchal
because it wa3 largely a means of political power, is taken by a
hard, money-mad parvenu. But the mode of production itself is
not altered thereby [ibid:596-7].

Recapitulating, the limits of capital in the ancient world centre

3und the fact that it cannot transform the slave mode of production.
is, however, does not mean that capital does not bear on its character or
;ent. Not only does circulation capital enhance the role of slave labour
the creation of manufactories and large agricultural estates manned by
ives producing for a market rather than immediate consumption. But,
'ersely too, slavery is itself a promoting factor in the growth of money
the development of urban slave markets indicates. Yet, the production
ch is based on the commodification of the person of the producer is
elf subject to external, non-economic, limitations; an economy based on
very could never attain a significant degree of Independence from
itics to which it was inextricably linked. This was 30, because the
ands of the 3lave labour market could not be met from within the
nomy but remained dependent for their satisfaction on politically
ermined practices, such as conquest. The slave economy, based as it was
jnfree, enslaved labour, did not possess an "internal mechanism of self-

146
reproduction, because its labour-force could never be homeostatically
stabilized within the system" [Anderson, 1974a:76]. Marx is careful to
stress this intrinsic limitation of slave production which retains, even
in its heyday, its dependence upon external supplies of servile labour
that cannot be ensured by other than political means:

But even the slave system - in as much as it was the dominant

form of productive labour in agriculture, manufacture, ship-
building, etc., as in the developed Greek states and in Rome -
retains an element of natural economy. The slave market itself
constantly receives supplies of the commodity labour-power from
war, piracy, etc., and this pillage is not mediated by a process
of circulation, but is rather the appropriation in kind of other
people's labour-power by direct physical compulsion [Capital
11:555].

The same point is made in the counterfactual supposition that, however

extensive, the commodification of labourers is not by itself sufficient
for explaining the extra-economic basis of slave production:

The purchase and sale of slaves is also in its form a purchase

and sale of commodities. Without the existence of slaves,
however, money cannot fulfil this function. If there is slavery,
then money can be spent on the acquisition of slaves. But money
in the hand of the buyer is in no way a sufficient condition for
the existence of slavery [ibid:1l6].

Apart from its extra-economic limitations, the commodification of the

labourer in slave society has radically different repercussions from the
commodification of labour-power in capitalism with regard to productive
growth and, in particular, to the increases in the productivity of labour.
Marx devotes many passages to comparative contrasts between slave and wage
labour from the point of view of their differential productive capacity.
He thus remarks that the slave, once sold, "does not come into
consideration as engaged in exchange at all" [Grundrissen!93 [8]..and
that, consequently, his consumption is determined outside him; the slave
"receives the means of subsistence he requires in the form of naturalia
which are fixed both in kind and quantity - i.e. he receives use-values"

[8] "In Roman law, the servus is ... defined as one who may not enter into
exchange for the purpose of acquiring anything for himself"
[Grundrisse: 245].
147
[Results-.1033]. By contrast, in capitalism, the worker "as distinct from
the slave is himself an independent centre of circulation"
[Grundrisse.*^], to the extent that his consumption is largely
conditioned by his mode of payment:

The free worker receives [the means of subsistence -PL] in the

shape of money, exchange-value, the abstract social form of
wealth ... [Thi3 -PL] exchange-value, abstract wealth, remains in
his mind as something more than a particular use-value hedged
round with tradItfonal""and local restrictions. It is the worker
himself who converts the money into whatever use-values he
desires; it is he who buys commodities as he wishes and, as the
owner of money, as the buyer of goods, he stands in precisely the
same relationship to the seller of goods as any other buyer
[Results: 1033].

As a result, the "sphere of hi3 consumption is not qualitatively

restricted, only quantitatively'1 [Grundrisse:233]. Thi3 differentiates
sharply the master/slave relation from that between capital and wage
labour. In the former, "no bargain is struck between [the slave -PL] and
his master, and no acts of selling and buying are going on between the two
parties" [Wages, Price and Profit:21 1 ]; but, in the latter, the worker also
confronts the capitalist "as consumer and possessor of exchange values"
[Grundrisse:420] and is therefore continuously involved in the process of
circulation and exchange^ [9]

The differences between the slave and the free worker in their capacity
as consumers are of paramount significance in terms of the incentives for
the increase in the productivity of labour and for productive growth in

[9] The same also hold3, of course, for the differential positions of
slave and wage labourer vis--vis their respective employers, since
in the former case it is the person of the labourer which is
commodified, but, in the latter, it is only his labour-power that is a
commodity. The difference is amplified in Part III but we may for the
moment refer to Engels's emphasis on it in his juxtaposition of slave
and wage labour: "The slave is sold once and for all, the .proletarian
has to sell himself by the day and, by the hour. Being the property of
one master, the individual slave has, since it is in the interest of
this master, a guaranteed subsistence, however wretched it may be; the
individual proletarian, the property so to speak of the whole
bourgeois clas3, whose labour is only bought from him when somebody
needs it, has no guaranteed subsistence ... The slave stands outside
competition, the proletarian stands within it and feels all its
fluctuations" [Principles of Communism: 3^3"^].
IMS
general in the slave and capitalist systems respectively. For example,
while individual differences between producers are of importance in
capitalism, they matter very little in the slave mode of production:

In the case of the slave, great physical strength or a special

talent may enhance his value to a purchaser, but this is of no
concern to him. It is otherwise with the free worker who is the
owner of his labour-power [Results; 1 032].

What is more, wage labour is incomparably more adaptable ih&>\ slave labour:

Since the sole purpose of work in the eyes of the wage-labourer

is his wage, money, a specific quantity of exchange-value from
which every particular mark of use-value has been expunged, he
is wholly indifferent towards the content of his labour and
hence his own particular form of activity ... [He -PL] is in
principle ready and willing to accept every possible variation
in his labour-power and activity which promises higher rewards
... This versatility stands in stark contrast to the utterly
monotonous and traditional nature of slave labour, which does
not vary with changes in production, but which requires, on the
contrary, that production be adapted to whatever mode of work
ha3 once been introduced and carried on fron one generation to
the next [ibid:1 033-U]. [10]

The effect of all these differences is to make "the free worker's work more
intensive, more continuous, more flexible and skilled than that of the
slave" [ibid:1032-3] and thereby more susceptible to productive
innovations and growth.

The absence in the slave of any social rationale for productive

advance, coupled with the fact that the only available means of expressing
his class grievances short of rebellion is the further resistance to
inventions and increases in productivity by otiose working habits,
condemns the slave mode of production to a permanent and irremediable

[10] "This 'versatility' appears to be a quite distinctive mark of the free

worker, in contrast to the working slave, whose labour-power is
stable and capable of being employed in a manner determined by local
custom" [Results: 101 Un].
1U9
state of productive hebetude. [11] This inherent impediment to the growth
of the forces of production is aptly demonstrated by the fact that, when it
came to increasing the productive capacity of labour in antiquity, the
only way was by the multiplication of the number of slaves. Such a solution
could not, however, be continued indefinitely given the practical
restrictions on the supply of slaves. Yet the limits in the productivity
of slave labour stand in stark contrast to the almost unlimited horizon
for invention, adaptability and increase in productivity in the case of
the wage labourer. What inhibits the rise of productivity of 3lave labour,
then, is the slave connection itself, just as what encourages and promotes
productive advance in the case of the free worker is the very relation
between capital and. wage labour. Any drive towards the development of the
productive forces in the slave mode is, by definition, stifled by the very
relations of production obtaining in it, just as the qualitatively
different capitalist relations release the full productive potential of
labour and drive it to its natural limits.

Marx's comparative observations on slaves and wage labourers,

highlighting, as they do, the different in. each case rationale of
production by reference to the position of the direct producer as a
co.nsumer, bring us to the point at which a re-examination of the causal
link between forces and relations of production becomes necessary. This is
so, because the inherent developmental drive towards productive growth,
which is prescribed by the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production, is so prominent a characteristic of wage labour but remains
conspicuously absent in the case of slave labour. What is more, it is also
absent in the case of free labour in early antiquity, i.e. the labour of the
small freeholding peasant/citizen, whose concerns, as we saw earlier, are
anything but aimed at productive advances. [12] The dissimilarity is

[11] The intrinsic productive limitations of slave labour bring into

focus the total insignificance of capital .,;as an incentive to
productivity. As Marx observes: "In antiquity, one could buy labour, a
slave, directly; but the slave could not buy money with his labour.
The increase of money could make slaves more expensive, but could not
make their labour more productive" [Grundrisse: 22^].
[i2] Indeed, as Hindess et al. [1975: 165] observe, the inefficiency of the
free labour is probably the "most striking and the most neglected
feature" of the ancient world.
150
explainable by the fact that radically different sets of production
relations obtain in each particular case. In capitalism, the worker, free
of any traditional or non-economic restraints, is economically dependent
on capital and this connection correspondingly conditions the productive
potential of his labour. But in antiquity the situation is reversed. On the
one hand, slave labour is politically subjugated and its remuneration does
not consist of money wages, i.e. of the purely economic and qualitatively
unrestrained universal medium of exchange. And, on the other hand, the
independent free labourer is similarly uninterested in money for itself,
since the primary objective of his labour is the maintenance and
reproduction of the political conditions of his existence as a citizen, a.
member of the polis.

Let us look closer into this. In the case of capitalism, the

capital/wage labour connection is free of extra-economic determinations.
But the situation under the ancient relations of production is radically
different; in antiquity, the productive position of the direct producer, be
he a freeholding peasant or a slave, is determined by reference to his
relation to the political commune. Therefore, the manner in which
production is carried on and, consequently, the limitations of this
production, are conditioned by this indispensable rel-ation of the producer
vis--vis the polis. The repercussions of the inseparability of politics
and economics for the development of the productive forces thus come into
full view. We have already mentioned the lack of any major productive
incentive on the part of the citizen/producer in antiquity, where
different forms of agriculture were discussed, not from the point of view
of their relative profitability, but on their political merits. What was
sought was the optimal form of production of better citizens not of
greater values; of ways, in other words, by which citizen freedom could be
preserved and enhanced. Inversely, the slave had no interest in productive
growth either, because it could not affect his condition of unfreedom, it
did not and could not alter the fact that he was unfree. For the exactly
opposite reasons, therefore, the slave did nothave any social rationale
for productive advances either.

All these, from the point of view of the direct producer, whether free
or enslaved. An analogous juxtoposition of capitalism and antiquity is

151
pertinent when we consider the position of the non-labourer in both
systems. In capitalism, only a small part of the revenues of exploitation
is devoted by the capitalist to personal consumption; the rest is
channelled to the reproduction and the expansion of the economic
conditions of his continued exploitation of the worker, which is achieved
by the incessant re-purchase of the means of production and of labour-
power, and by the drive to increase the productivity of labour. The reverse
is true in antiquity, where the revenues of the wealthy citizen are
devoted to the reproduction of the political conditions of his continued
appropriation of land and labour. Only to a very limited extent do these
conditions allow for 'productive' investment. For the rest, his expenditure
is overwhelmingly directed at the maintenance or improvement of his
political position among his fellow citizens, since it is from this very
position that his appropriation rights, his economic benefits, derive.
Thus, instead of transforming the proceeds of his exploitation into
capital, instead of investing them in production, he spends them on non-
economic activities, (such a3 civic and religious festivals, military
expenses, public buildings, art, etc.) or leaves them to remain idle. This
accounts for the fact that money is hoarded rather than productively
itilised; [13] and it consequently accounts for the fact that the ancient
rforld experiences so limited a growth in the forces of production. As Marx
3ums up these limitations:

the ancients never thought of transforming the surplus product

into capital. Or at least only to a very limited extent. (The
fact that hoarding of treasure in the narrow sense was
widespread among them shows how much the surplus product lay
idle.) They used a large part of the surplus product for
unproductive expenditure on art, religious works and public
works. Still less wa3 their production directed to the release
and development of the material productive forces - division of
labour, machinery, the application of the powers of nature and
science to private production. In fact, by and large, they never
went beyond handicraft labour. The wealth which they produced
for private consumption wa3 therefore relatively small and only
appears great because it was amassed in the hands of a few
persons, who, incidentally, did not know what to do with it
[Theories of Surplus-Value 11:528].

13] On hoarding in precapitalist societies, see Grundrisse: 229-31; cf.,

also, A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy: 132-3 and
1 37.
152
 Unlike capitalism, therefore, the reproduction neede of the ruling
class did not require any extensive productive investment; if anything
they demanded quite the opposite, as the 'unproductive* expenditure in non-
economic activities indicates. The use of tne term 'unproductive', however,
should not mislead. The ancients' use of a large part of their revenues on
civic, religious and artistic activities was exactly the kind of
expenditure which, in the context of the ancient relations of production,
ensured the enhancement of their status and the continuation of membership
in a privileged citizen minority. This was so, because their position
rested precisely on the reproduction of the political relations which
alone gave access to economic appropriation.

In conclusion, the absence of an inherent and sustained developmental

drive towards productive advances in the ancient world is to be explained
by the particular morphology of its relations of production in which
political and economic determinations are intertwined. How can this be
reconciled with the Marxian philosophical postulate (see Ch.l, supra) that
the inner meaning of human history is embedded in the struggle of man with
nature? In the fact, that is, that human needs are not catered for by
unassisted nature, so that man has to exert labour in order to satisfy
them?

Let us look closer into this. Man expends labour, and thereby develops
the forces of- production, in order to subjugate an essentially hostile
external world and thus satisfy his needs. Those needs, however, are not
only naturally determined and invariant, but also socially and
historically conditioned; Marx refers to this distinction and to the
relative historicity of human needs on more than one occasion and in many
different contexts, although he does so in a rather unsystematic and not
wholly consistent manner. [14] But once the historically relative
dimcisioo of human needs is accepted in principle, it follows that the
continuity of the tendency towards the growth of productive forces can be
anything but given or invariant; rather, it becomes itself dependent on the
intensity, extent and general character of the largely historically

[14] For an extensive discussion of this distinction, see Heller [1974:

esp. 23-39].
153
determined need system. Since, in other words, it is the need system that
provides the incentive of production, then the requirements imposed on the
human agent by the broader historical environment will bear upon the
character of production. It follows therefrom that:

If what is produced, distributed and consumed depends on the

nature and hierarchy of needs in a given society, then economic
activity is organically linked with the other activities ... that
along with it make up the content of the life of this society, __^
and to which it provides the material mean3 of " realizing
themselves ... [Godelier, 1974:263],

low, in the case of antiquity, the "nature and hierarchy" of needs, i.e. of
ieeds imposed by the social 3ystem, are anything but exclusively economic.
'his is so, because what occupies a central position in them is the need
'or the reproduction of the political conditions of existence of the
iroduction system. By contrast, the situation is entirely different in
:apitalism, as we shall have the opportunity to see in some detail in Ch.9
elow. Suffice here to say that the conditions of existence of the
apitalist relations of production are dissociated from all non-economic
onsiderations, a fact which has a quite different bearing on the drive
owards the satisfaction of needs and, consequently, on the process of
roductive growth.

Perhaps the most interesting comments by Marx on the historical

elativity of the need system (and, by extension, on the limitations of the
evelopmental drive of productive forces) are to be found in the
rundrisse, where, in a series of unfinished, disconnected and at times
mpenetrably obscure notes [cf. op.cit.:90-100], Marx tries to argue the
rganic complementarity of consumption and production in a given society,
e remarks, for instance, that:

A definite production thus determines a definite consumption,

distribution and exchange as well as definite relations between
these different moments. Admittedly, however, in its one-sided
form, production i3 itself determined by the other moments ...
[The -PL] needs of consumption determine production. Mutual
interaction takes place between the different moments. This is

154
 the case with every organic whole [op.cit.:99~10C j. [15]

At one point, even, Marx becomes quite specific, so that little doubt is
left as to the importance he attaches to the specific character, of the
need system. He argues that "consumption produces production",

because consumption creates the need for new production, that is

it creates the ideal, internally impelling cause for production,
which is its presupposition. Consumption creates the motive for
production; it also creates the object which is active in
production as its determinant aim [op.cit.:91 3.

Yet such a reciprocity, which is absent in the universal scheme of the

Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production, open3 up a whole array of
possibilities. It even allows, at least theoretically, for the hypothetical
case in which the developmental drive of productive force can be arrested
altogether "by suitable modification in the need system" [Saran, 1963:100].
And it certainly makes allowance for cases in which this tendency of
growth is contained within limits by a circumscribed set of social needs
imposed by the relations of a given society. This is what seems to happen
in precapitalism for which Marx establishes the general correlation
between the need system and productive growth:

At the dawn of civilisation, the productive powers acquired by

labour are small, but so too are the needs which develop with it
and upon the means of their satisfaction [Capital 1:647].

And, even more specifically, this seems to be the case with the ancient
polis, on what we have witnessed so far from the examination of the
relations of production in antiquity. For, as Gouldner's figurative point
ingeniously illustrates:

Part of what made it possible for almost all male citizens of

ancient Athens to participate actively in civic management was,
first, that they had great numbers of slaves whose product they
appropriated, and, second, but no less important, that the

[15] "Production mediates consumption; it creates the letter's material;

without it, consumption would lack an object. But consumption also
mediates production, in that it alone creates for the products the
subject for whom they are products ... Without production, no
consumption; but also, without consumption, no production; since
production would then be purposeless" [Grundrisse: 91 ].
155
 Citizens had very mode3t expectations of consumption. By modern
standards, they ate, drank, and dressed with simplicity and they
found way3 to express their individuality through costless
aesthetic variability, such as how they folded their toga or how
long they wore it [Oouldner, 1980:332].

It seems, therefore, that the specific relations of production

condition, by the determinate set of social needs which they generate, the
jrowth of the forces of production to a very large extent. In classical
mtiquity (as in all precapitalist societies) production relations are
lot accompanied by an unrestrained tendency on the part of the productive
'orces to develop because no such tendency is necessitated by their
eproduction requirements. As Godelier [197^:290-1] expresses the same
joint:

The functioning of the social structure, ..., determines the

intensity of the incentives to developing th productive forces
... This social limit on incentives to develop the productive
forces explains the generally slow pace of development of these
forces in [precapitalist -PL] societies. The optimum of
production ... does not correspond, ..., to the maximum of possible
production, but this optimum expresses the 'social necessity' of
this production, its relative social utility ... based on the
actual structure of social relations ... [The' -PL] economic
optimum is thus the economic 'aspect' of a wider 'social optimum*

It is only with capitalism, in which the relations of production

ndergo a radical transformation in their determination (see Chs. 8 and 9
elow), that the social limit on productive growth is lifted and the
)ptimum of production' tends to correspond to the 'maximum of production',
ow, Marx recognises this essential differentiation 'in practice', as it
ere, i.e. when he deals with classical antiquity and with other
recapitalist types as distinct from capitalism. But in his construction
f a universal scheme of historical causation, this differentiation is
rfept away by the indiscriminate generalisation that is imposed by the
ialectic of Forces and Relations of Production. Yet what emerges from
rx's conception of the ancient world is that the actual point of
sference of thi3 3cheme is really not classical antiquity (or, as we
iall see in the last two chapters, any other form of society preceding
ipitalist society). However, to extrapolate and universalise the

156
Dialectic, as the 1859 Preface does, by regarding the development of the
forces of production as "autotelic and automatic" [Saran, 1960:100], is a
theoretical act of deeply teleological character. It is effectively
tantamount to forcing on the whole expanse of history what progressively
appears to be a temporally limited model of productive determinism. But
such a methodological practice is condemned by Marx himself as jujene and
fruitless, since it uses as "master key a general historico-philosophical
theory, the supreme virtue of which consists in being supra-historical"
[Marx to Otechestvenniye Zapiskl:29^].

Before we enter in full the discussion of the discontinuities between

capitalism and its predecessors, a word should be said about the
disintegration of the Roman Empire which is the last chapter in the
history of the ancient world and which, consequently, also brings to a
close the thematic examination of Marx's ideas on antiquity. Unfortunately,
however, Marx has very little, if anything, to say about this particular
subject; as a result, nothing but speculative conjectures as to his
possible position on the matter can be attempted, on the basis of his
observations on the limits and general causes of decline of antiquity and
by recourse to Engels, who refers to the dissolution of the Western Roman
Empire in his Origin. These inherent limitations inevitably render the
discussion of the rest of the present chapter little exegetical value; but
it was thought necessary to include it, nevertheless, not only in order to
coTrtpls-te the historical trajectory of the ancient world but also because
it may provide us with a further glimpse into some of the problematic
aspects of Marx's general historical scheme.

The last days of the Roman Empire are closely connected with the
decline of slavery. Engels, in his Origin, sees the gradual fall of slavery
into desuetude as due to the fact that the latifundia were increasingly
being broken up, because of the "impoverishment of"their owners and the
decay of the towns" [op.cit.:559]. This resulted in the shrinkage of the
markets for the products of large-scale agriculture and industry and the
consequent unprofitability of superfluous slaves:

The slavery of antiquity became obsolete. Neither in large-scale

agriculture in the country, nor in the manufactories of the
towns did it any longer bring in a return worth while - the

157
 market for its products had disappeared. Small-scale
agriculture and small handicrafts, to which the gigantic
production of the flourishing times of the empire was now
reduced, had no room for numerous slaves. Society found room
only for the domestic and luxury slaves of the rich. But
moribund slavery was still sufficiently virile to make all
productive work appear as slave labour, unworthy of the dignity
of free Romans - and everybody was now a free Roman
[op.cit.:560].

Engels's-explanation of the decline of slavery due to its purported

luperfluity, however, does not seem to tally with Marx's already mentioned
lew which underlined the fact that there were no known instances of
iurplU3 slaves in antiquity; if anything, the "call for them increased,
ather" [Grundrisse:607]. Thi3 leads one to suppose that, unlike Engels,
[arx probably entertained a conception of the decline of slavery which can
e broadly approximated to the 'shortage thesis' in mainstream classical
cholarship [16] but which also tallies with his observations on the
imits of the ancient world. For, as we saw earlier on, the only means by
hich the maintenance of the productive capacity of the system could be
ecured consisted in the continuous infusion of new slaves into
roduction. If, however, the slaves "died out again and again, and had
onstantly, to be replaced by new ones" [German Ideology:72], then it is not
the^superfluity but in the scarcity of slave labour that the reasons
or the decline of slavery are to be sought. The creation, maintenance and
ncrease of slave production depended, above all, on the cheap and
lentiful availability through war and piracy. The labour supply for the
Lave economy of the ancient world rested, therefore, on external sources
lich could be secured and reproduced by political means. However, and by
ie same token, it could equally be curtailed or discontinued by political
velopments.

This is indeed what seem3 to have happened as a result of the

mditions obtaining in the history of Rome from the Principate onwards.
3 Jones [1960:9f] explains, the supply of slave labour began to be

6] The adoption of the 'shortage thesis' by some Marxists was, for a long
time, exorcised as heretical (i.e. 'Kautskyism') by the
representatives of the Marxist orthodoxy in the field of classical
scholarship [cf. Konstan, 1975: 147-8],
158
severely reduced on the aftermath of the termination of the last great
wars of conquest in the first century AD. Augustus' wars in Spain, Germany,
Illyricum and Pannonia put large numbers of slaves on the market, but the
period of pacification that followed them under the pax Augusta dried up
this, the most important, source of supply of slave labour. [17] The
limitations in the external sources of slave labour had a profound impact
on the economy, since they made the erstwhile plentiful availability of
slaves a thing of the past and resulted in sharp rises in the prices of
slaves. The increased cost of imported 3laves led, in turn, to the
introduction of extensive slave-breeding in the large estates in Italy.
This development could not but have serious repercussions for the mode and
rate of exploitation of slave labour; as Ste.Croix [1981:237] explains:

as a result of slaves being to a large extent bred within the

economy instead of being brought into it under exceptionally
favourable conditions, the rate of exploitation of the slave
population as a whole must have diminished, to allow for the
diversion of effort to producing and rearing children, including
a considerable number.who would not survive to become useful to
their owners.

The decreasing profitability of slave labour seems to have been the

decisive factor in the final decline of antiquity; it was," as Weber
[1971:264] has aptly characterised it, "the turning-point in the
development of ancient civilisation". Slaves began to settle as virtual
tenants of agricultural plots, although they still maintained their
servile political status [servus quasi colonus]. The diminution of the
returns from slavery made tenancy more preferable than slave-tilling to
landowners and this process gradually affected the economic position of
the humble free men who were themselves being increasingly tied to the
land. As Engels points out in this respect:

Latifundian economy based on slave labour was no longer

profitable; but at the same time it was the only possible form
of large-scale agriculture. Small-scale farming again became
the only profitable form. Estate after estate was parcelled out

[17] Besides, the establishment of relative order within the Empire put a
gradual end to other sources of slaves, such as piracy and brigandage.
This process had begun in earnest quite early on, with Pcmpey's
suppression of piracy in the Eastern Mediterranean in 67 BC.
159
 and leased in small plots to hereditary tenants, ... coloni, who
paid a fixed amount annually, were attached to the land and
could be sold together with the plots. These were not slaves, but
neither were they free ... They were the forerunners of the
medieval serfs [Qrigin:560].

The rise of the colonate marks the last stage of the development of the
ancient world by finally depriving the poor free population of the last
vestiges of political independence and the few privileges this still
entitled them to. The "almost total disappearance of the free population"
[German Ideology:72] was accompanied by the relative improvement of the
slave's position as he was 'elevated' to the status of a tenant. The
beginnings of enserfment are thus closely connected with the gradual
assimilation of the poor freemen with the slaves [cf. Jones, 197^:296] [18]
and with the emergence of a single form of exploitation of a class of
enserfed producers by a class of large landowners.

The final chapter in the history of the ancient world, however, is not
solely a product of this process of internal decomposition. The 'nadir' of
its history cannot be regarded as a point of arrival in a long-drawn
internal process of development alone, but rather as the synthesis between
the disintegrating structure of antiquity and the Germanic conquests that
swept over the Western Roman Empire; it is finally reached, in other words,
with "the destruction of an old civilisation by a barbarous people and the
resulting formation of an'entirely new organisation of society" [German
Ideology.71 ]. As Engels puts it, the internal development of the ancient
world had led to an impasse, a "blind alley" [Qrigin:560] from which any
way out was barred, so that "At tne end of tne fifth century, the Roman
Empire, exhausted, bloodless and helpless, lay open to the invading
Germans" [ibid.-558j. [19] External threats to the security of the antique
social order were, of course, a permanent feature in the history of
antiquity. But, in the days of the Later Roman Empire, the social structure
had been so irrevocably eroded that Rome could no longer profer any

[18] "While the slave advanced in his social status and became a serf, the
colonus, ..., was sliding down into serfdom" [Weber, 1971:265].
[19] The interpntration of the Germanic with the Roman words had of
course preceded the final watershed of the invasions with the earlier
settlement of barbarians in many parts of the Empire [cf. Ste.Croix,
1981: 2^3-8].
160
effective resistance and the subject and exploited populations were
indifferent and passive to the preservation of Roman rule or even actively
"hailed" the invaders "as saviours" [ibid:559]. [20]

The supersession of antiquity by feudalism was, then, the product of the

fusion of the ancient world with the Germanic invaders; yet this passage
to feudalism contradicts the assumptions of the Marxian general model of
history. For it is not a case of internal development but of the synthesis
of two different worlds; the emergent social relations cannot be said to
have matured 'in the womb of the old society' alone. The very exogenous
source of the transition thus poses problems for the genealogy of
capitalism, for classical antiquity does not generate all the conditions
for its supersession by the particular society which finally succeeds
it. [21] Indeed, the continuation of the Empire in the East for almost
anotherraillenium.[22] proves exactly this absence of immanence and
necessity in the succession of types or stages of development. In other
words, the very fact that feudalism is the product of a combination of
endogenous with largely contingent factors casts a shadow both on the
notion that holds capitalism as the necessary telos of all development and
on the idea of the necessary precedence of capitalism by antiquity, i.e.
the classical-occidental line of -the former's lineage. Lastly, from the
point of view of the growth of the productive forces, the concluding
stages of ancient history can hardly be said to constitute moments in the
upward trend of development. Should Marx's silence on the transition to
feudalism be perhaps seen as symptomatic of its implications to his
general theory of history? Any attempted guess would be hazardous,
although, so far, we have witnessed Marx's preparedness to depart from his
universal model in order to analyse other aspects of the history of
antiquity. Engels, on the other hand, did, as we saw back in Ch.2, try to

[20] As Thompson [1974: 319-20] comments on this point, "it is difficult to

resist the impression that the barbarian invasions could scarcely
have been carried out so successfully* in the fourth and fifth
centuries had it not been for the help which the Roman peasantry and
other oppressed classes among the Romans were able to give directly
or indirectly to the newcomers."
[21] And, inversely, there can be "no conclusive showing that only slave
production can pave the way for feudalism" [Shaw, 1978: 138].
[22] The Byzantine Empire lasts until the final fall of Constantinople in
1453.
161
 PART III

CAPITALISM AND PRECAPITALISM

expunge the contradictory repercussions of the end of antiquity by
recourse to what was there described as the simplest version of
teleologica! reductions.

162
 PROLEGOMENA

Our discussion so far has shown that the general programmatic

principles of the 859 Preface are in many respects contradicted by Marx's
own substantial analysis of the classical world. On the one hand, in his
attempt to characterise the structure of ancient society, Marx was obliged
to depart from the mechanical conception of the Base/Superstructure Model;
while, on the other hand, his remarks on the causes of development in the
classical world are hardly congruent with the endogenous and
developmental requirements of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production. The distance that separates Marx's general theory of history
from his concrete historical analyses leaves little doubt that his
writings are far from consistent. Yet, this 'distance' is itself in need of
explanation if we are to try and understand why it is that some of Marx's
historical texts are "on the whole, free of Marxism" [Llobera, 1979:231];
why, in other words, Marx proved so reluctant to settle for the ordered and
uniform approach of his 1859 Preface in his analysis of specific
historical problems.

Part III is concerned with the examination of these questions. It

attempts to put the Marxian inconsistencies into context by analysing the
idea of discontinuity that exists between Marx's conceptualisation of
capitalism and all its predecessors and by bringing to the surface the
theoretical implications thereof. This theorisation is premissed on the
preceding study of Marx's views on classical antiquity, the choice of which
was strategic. This is so, mainly because the detection of anomalies in
Marx's writings usually only concerns and ends up with his designation of
the Asiatic type; the peculiarity and 'static' structure of that~'typi~can
indeed be immediately recognised as discrepancies in the overall Marxian
scheme of history. But the very 'atypical' character of the Asiatic type
leads to a serious interpretative omission by overshadowing the
discrepancies that do exist in Marx's treatment of other, more 'typical',
precapitalist types. More specifically, it obscures the fact that Asia's
'dynamic' counterpart, namely the classical world, is itself ridden with as

163
many, if not more, conceptual difficulties. Marx's characterisation of Asia
as an 'exception' to the dynamic course of history and his juxtaposition of
it to its European antipode are commonly taken, without further
investigation, as proofs .that classical antiquity, at least, confirms the
schema of the 1859 Preface. Such a posture, however, contains a major
analytical deficiency insofar as it sets off with the uncritical
acceptance of the stark contrast between East and West. A close study of
Marx's conception of classicaljmtlqui.ty-r-though, not only allows us to put
this contrast into context, but leads us also to the revelation of the fact
that Marx's analysis of the classical world is itself quite di3tanciated
from the principles of his general theory of history. By focusing on
precapitalism as a whole, rather than on the division of history along
europocentric lines (a separation for which Marx is of course largely
responsible), Part III proposes to argue that it is the disconinuity
between capitalism and precapitalism that offers the greater insight in
the interpretation of Marx's understanding of history.

. Part III consists of three chapters. In its first chapter (Ch. 7), the
attempt is made to bring together and categorise the various reasons that
may account for the 'Marxian Inconsistency'; in it, the problematic
relationship between Marx and Engels is also discussed. In the two
chapters that follow it will be argued that, both in terms of structural
characterisation (Ch. 8) and of historical development (Ch. 9), it is not
Marx's fragmented historical studies that constitute an 'anomaly' on the
ordered schema of the 1859 Preface but rather the reverse; it will in other
words be suggested that Marx's theoretical objectives and his "historical
spirit" [Vernant, 1976:78] are potentially served more faithfully by his
unfinished and 'unorthodox1 studies, rather than by his 'orthodox' general
theory of history.

164
 7. THE MARXIAN INCONSISTENCY

The problem of the Marxian inconsistency can of course be posed in two

different ways. Either by asking why Marx "failed to systematize
adequately the practices he actually used in the more concrete analyses of
history" [Sahlins, 1976:1] onto a more general plane. Or by seeking to
discover the reasons that made him abandon the attempt to preserve the
reductionist and determinist orthodoxy of his general theory of history
against the 'heresy' of precapitalist societies. To opt for either way,
however, is to pre-empt an answer to the riddle of 'what Marx really meant'.
The latter, though, is arguably an enterprise of a highly speculative
character and of dubious analytical value anyway. It appears that
assigning priority to either the 'general' or the 'particular' in Marx is
quite illegitimate because it cannot but rest on inconclusive evidence;
for it so happens that the two approaches may be found alongside each
other in the same Marxian texts. Thus, pronouncements on the universal
applicability of a conceptual apparatus developed out of the study of
contemporary society are known to co-exist with instances in which this
teleological programme is retracted 'in practice' and historical
*
scholarship is restored to its appropriate relativity.

Given these intrinsic limitations, the present chapter does not aspire
to provide the definitive answer to the question of 'who Marx really was'.
Rather, it sets off from a different premiss, namely, that it is the
inconsistencies themselves which are the only real and indisputable
feature of Marx, and, from there, it tries to examine the array of reasons
that fuelled and preserved it. The problem of course is further obfuscated
by the fact that post-Marxian scholarship has proved extremely partisan on
the matter, by recognising only one face of what is essentially a Janus-

165
like intellectual personne. [1] The obfuscation in this case lies
evidently in the fact that similar exercises are not primarily concerned
with the constitution of Marx's ideas but rather with their subsequent
diffusion. This particular pitfall should be carefully avoided, whenever
possible, and this is why even the relationship between Marx and Engels is
discussed separately in the latter part of the chapter.

A common enough way to try and explain the presence of inconsistencies

in MarxTa to argue that his ideas were in a constant process of formation;
since "Marx was groping toward a theory that he had not entirely thought
out" [Rader, 1979:9], this argument goes, it was quite natural for such
inconsistencies to exist. The fact, however, that contradictory statements
and conflicting approaches are frequently encountered in one and the same
Marxian text reduces considerably the force of this argument. On the other
hand, it is only true to say that Marx's formulations were the products of
a continuous intellectual development in the process of which he called
upon a multiplicity of sources which were not always logically or
substantially compatible and which, in consequence, could not be totally
"econciled, however impressive Marx's power of theoretical synthesis may
lave been.

This argument is put forward with sophistication by Gouldner who

proposes a distinction between a theorist's "general paradigm" and
"background assumptions" [cf. Gouldner, 1980:308-16]. The latter refer to
the multitude of intellectual stimuli from which a theorist draws and
rfhich constitute one's modus operandi; these, however, do not always
3urface at the level of generalisation, i.e. at the level of articulate
theory, which remains the only explicit part of one's intellectual
nterprise and of which alone one is focally aware. In the process of the

[1] Thus, for instance, the view that Marx's general historical model was
nothing more than a "guiding thread" [Leitfaden], a conceptual
framework to be tested against empirical historical reality [cf.
Korsch, 1963:167], is counterposed to the insistence that Marx
rejected the relative character of his general historical model [cf.
Jordan, 1967:298-9], and to the suggestion that the 1859 Preface
represents the final crystallisation of Marx's views [cf. Echevarria,
1978:33^]. We should regard both of these attitudes as premissed on a
mistaken basis, for they both deny in their own way the reality of the
Marxian inconsistency; they both 'cancel it in practice', as it were,
by assigning priority to one of its terms.
166
articulation and transmission of one's ideas, it is only natural that the
"background" or "analytic" assumptions "will be repressed and kept at the
level of the tacit, to the extent that they are dissonant with components
of the articulated theory" [ibid:3l4]. C2] So with Marx too. At the level
of generalisation - in our case, at the level of his general theory of
history - the significance and implications of his historical studies may
well have been sacrificed for the sake of presenting a coherent and
articulate model of historical development. Gouldner identifies two sites
of anomalies in Marx, namely his ideas on Asia and his analysis of the
phenomenon of the Bonapartist state. To these we should also add Marx's
formulations in the Grundrisse on the particular structural
characteristics and development of precapitalist forms, and especially
that of classical antiquity. The process of suppressing the implications
of these formulations for his general theory of history is what Gouldner
has called the "normalization of anomalies" [ibid:299], which consists in
"ultimately accommodating the background assumptions of his analytic to
the postulations of the explicit theory paradigm" [ibid:3l6]. [3]

Gouldner's argument finds additional support in a rather curious piece

of biographical information. The Grundrisse, whose text includes the mass
of 'dissonant* historical observations, never went beyond the drafting
stage and was first published well after Marx's death. Its "subtleties and
reflections do not come to the surface of the Preface" [Acton, 1970:153],
i.e. the text which remains the most articulate, concise and well-known
Marxian statement on history and which was written (and published) at
roughly the same period in Marx's career. Should this paradox be read as a
symptomatic coincidence of the Marxian inconsistency along the lines that
Gouldner suggests? Should we understand, in other words, that "when he was
writing for himself alone" [ibid:155], as in the Grundrisse, [4] Marx was

[2] Gouldner's argument assumes even greater significance when we come to

the process of the transmission of one's theory to disciples, during
which the original "background assumptions" are almost totally lost.
[33 Cf., also, Plamenatz's point: "Both Marx and Engels are often ready to
admit the obvious. Their fault is much less that they turn a blind eye
to it than that they do not see its implications for their basic
theory" [Plamenatz, 1963:2833.
[4] Cf. Hobsbawm's characteristic remark that in the Formen (Grundrisse)
we are following Marx "while he is actually thinking" [Hobsbawm,
1964:183.
167
expressing thoughts that for various reasons could not and did not find
;heir way through to his general theory of history? Although the answer to
;hese questions cannot but remain inconclusive, it is worth pursuing the
latter further by turning to the possible reasons that may have
:ontributed to the need for advancing, at the explicit level, a universal
iode of historical causation.

The first major reason that could be adduced in this connection lies in
,he very innovative character of Marx's ideas. In advocating a radically
iew perspective in historical explanation in the midst of well-rooted and
.ostile alternative theoretical systems, Marx may well have been forced to
he overstatement of his views, articulating them at a universal level and
eneralising their applicability. Indeed, the polemical dimension in
arx's articulation and presentation of his general theory of history is
cknowledged by none other than Engels as the inevitable result of the
onfrontation with competing schools of thought; warning against the worst
xcesses of economic reductionism, Engels admits in a letter written well
fter Marx's death, that both he and Marx were partly responsible for th.is,
ince, as he puts it, "We had to emphasise the main principle vis--vis our
dversaries" [Engels to Bloch:396].

The literary and polemical scope of his general pronouncements on

istory, however, can' hardly provide an adequate explanation of the
arxian inconsistency by itself. An even more important reason for putting
orward a universal and uniform mode of historical causation may be sought
Marx'3 conviction that history exemplifies an essential "coherence"
xpressed in the development of the productive forces [cf. Marx to
nnenkov:31 ]. In this sense, Marx follows on the steps of the rationalist
radition which conceives of history as a "rational process" [Hegel,
944:93, whose intelligibility rests in its continuity and order. It should
ot be forgotten that, besides being in many respects a true heir to the
radition of the Enlightenment, Marx lived and worked in a century in
lich the rationalist conception of history reached its climax with the
mergence of theories of social evolution which sought to discover and
~ticulate those law-like uniformities that were supposed to express
istory's rational order. Marx subscribed fully to this view as he
requently talks of the search for those "hidden laws of motion" [Theories

168
of Surplus-Value 11:118] as the objective of the science of man. And,
indeed, the construction of a uniform and universal causal framework
provided that "schematism" which "afforded a corrective to the
bewilderment imposed by the manifold details of the events" [Krieger,
1953:393] and reaffirmed the belief in the coherence and intelligibility
of history.

The influences of the rationalist tradition in general, and of the

cultural ambience of the nineteenth century in particular, on Marx
constitute, of course, a major exegetical problem. This cannot evidently be
dealt with in detail here, since it falls outside the immediate scope of
the present study. It should nonetheless be noted that without some
reference to the temporal setting of Marx's thought, it is quite impossible
to arrive at an understanding of its problematical features, whatever the
radical break between Marx and his contemporaries may have been. For, as
Hayek [1955:191] rightly observes:

The discussions of every age are filled with the issues on which
its leading schools of thought differ. But the general
intellectual atmosphere of the time is always determined by the
views on which the opposing schools agree. They become the
unspoken presuppositions of all thought, the common and
unquestioningly accepted foundations on which all discussion
proceeds.

Marx's attitude to history should therefore be examined in conjuction

with the dominant intellectual climate of his day, although he himself was
not always fully aware of its influence. [5] Of great importance in this
context was also the contemporary widespread belief in the
epistemologica! identity of the social and natural sciences which may have

[5] An interesting point in case here is Marx's relation to one of the

major antecedents of classical evolutionism, namely Auguste Comte. On
the one hand, both Marx and Engels entertained a low opinion of
Comte's philosophy on both theoretical and political grounds [cf.
Marx to Engels, July 7, 1866:169; Marx to Beesly:250; Engels to
Tonnies:453]. On the other hand, however, Comte may have exerted a
surreptitious but significant influence on Marx during the latter's
formative years, through the mediation of Saint-Simon [cf. Lichtheim,
1971:733 Of much interest here is Comte's conviction that historical
development is characterised by order and continuity and,
consequently, "the object of science is to discover the laws which
govern this continuity" [cited in Nisbet, 1969:159].
169
contributed further to the quest for a rational order "which is, after all,
only the subtle equivalent of a natural order of things" [Lefort,
1978:617]. Such a 'fascination' would have been fuelled even further by the
optimism inspired by the plethora of contemporary advances in the field of
natural sciences and, especially, by Darwin's success in biological
evolution. For, as Berlin [195^:5] has put it:

The notion that one can discern large patterns in the procession
of historical events is naturally attractive to those who are -
impressed by the success of the natural sciences in classifying,
correlating, and above all predicting.

Marx's 'rationalist heritage', as well as the particular cultural

environment in which he worked, may have contributed significantly in his
attempt to construct an all-encompassing theory, the very universal and
rational character of which was thought to reflect history itself. This
concern for the discovery of history's "coherence" seems to have been one
of the main factors behind Marx's striving towards "a Euclidean Geometry
of History" [Baudrillard, 1975:111], a scheme, that is, which would identify
and theorise the presumably uniform principles of historical development.
And it was exactly as a "logification of history" [Habermas, 1979:121]
similar to natural science that Marx's general theory was appreciated by
none other than Engel3, as is evinced in his celebrated likening of Marx to
Darwin:

Just as Darwin discovered the law of development of organic

nature, so Marx discovered the law of development of human
history [Speech at the Graveside of Karl Marx:429].

In the consideration of this underlying belief in the 'coherence' and

intelligibility of history we should also take into account the political
aims that underpin Marx's attempt to construct a general scheme of
historical causality. The most immediate manifestation of these is but an
offshoot of the polemical scope of Marx's writings, namely the need to
provide the socialist movement with a simple and effective ideological
tool which would bring forward sharply the alternative character of the
revolutionary viewpoint. The reference to this political dimension,
however, goes much deeper than such immediate considerations. For the most

170
overriding political concern and motivation in Marx's interest in history
was the need to demonstrate theoretically the inevitability of the
collapse of the capitalist system. Yet, the fulfillment of such an ambition
required the postulation of an underlying historical necessity which
would situate the present as a moment in a process of a definite character
and tendency. As Popper C1969:83U, among others, has suggested, it was
because of Marx's desire to establish the coming of socialism by means of
scientific prediction that the predicability of capitalism's collapse
presupposed a Law of Evolution, since every scientific prediction cannot
but be an inference from a law.

The wish to produce a uniform causal design of history is therefore the

result of the postulation of capitalism as history's telos. As it has been
stressed before, Marx's interest in what preceded capitalism was not an end
in itself; consequently, it would not be far from the truth to suggest that
his overall historical model served "the rather incidental role of merely
complementing the analysis of capitalism with a backward glance at
precapitalist societies" [Habermas, 1979:126]. History is therefore
written with its telos as the object to be explained; but it is the very
constitution of capitalism as the telos which determines the mode in which
it is explained. Thus, at the }.evei of his general theory of history, Marx
puts forward a scheme which postulates that all social forms preceding
capitalism were also governed and propelled forward by the same structural
and developmental principles that obtain in capitalism, to which they give
rise, and which is itself to be superseded, in the same manner, by a higher
form of social organisation. The very uniformity and universality of this
causation serves to confirm, in a meta-theoretical way, the establishment
of capitalism as history'3 telos and the inevitability of its eventual
supersession by socialism. The need to provide a theoretical justification
for the notion of capitalism's immanent and ineluctable collapse may
therefore largely account for the existence of Marx's general theory of
history. A general explanatory scheme which admitted, in principle, that
capitalism's prehistory was not necessarily subject to a universal and
invariant determination would automatically entail the retraction from
the insistence on the inevitability of socialism. Or,' as another
formulation of the same counterfactual argument has it:

171
 Once monistic economie determinism is abandoned, there is ... no
methodological basis for historical prediction. If history
results from a number of interacting factors, there is no single
law of succession of distinct stages in social and historical
development. Thus, prediction turns into prophecy, and socialism,
unable to foresee the future, is no longer a science ... [Jordan^
.1967:328-9].

The socialist eschatology in Marx may therefore be 3een as inducing him

to ascribe a universal applicability to-hirs-general theory of history.
Capitalism is regarded as the last historical stage in which social
antagonisms are dominant ; its collapse is taken to signal the abolition
of class-ridden society and the institution of a form of social
organisation which is decidedly free of class divisions. In the
productivist language of Marx's general theory of history no earlier
society could have had this possibility of permanently resolving social
antagonisms inscribed in its structure. This privileged position of
capitalism as the historical telos, however, is what allows for the
assumption that its theory and its critique also enjoy a privileged
position in man's attempt to grasp and explain the workings of history. In
the meta-language of Marx's general historical model, the theory that
'recognises' capitalism as the telos and explains it as such assumes an
epistemologica! primacy over all other attempts at historical explanation,
because only with the advent of the telos the conditions for universal
scientific knowledge are created:

Capital is ... an end and all history is gathered in the final

process of its abolition. Or better, it is the only mode of
production whose critique becomes possible in its real terms;
this is why the revolution that puts an end to it is definitive
[Baudrillard, 1975:112].

This indeeed is the impact of Marx's already cited analogy:

Bourgeois society is the most developed and the most complex

historic organization of production ... Human anatomy contains a
key to the anatomy of the ape. The intimations of higher
development among the subordinate animal species, however, can
be understood only after the higher development is already
known. The bourgeois economy thus supplies the key to the
ancient, etc. [Grundri3se:1 05].

Consequently, all history can be objectively read by Marx's theory because

172
of the letter's 'favoured' position in time. This implicit notion is at the
root of its teleological methodology which generalises the descriptive
categories and governing principles of the 'highest' form of development,
capitalism, and transposes them as universal to previous 'lower' forms. It
is this socialist eschatology that

allows our society to think itself and live itself as superior

to all others. It is not only relatively more advanced by the
fact that our society succeeds them, but absolutely more
advanced because, as the holder of the theory of this objective
finality of science or history, it reflects itself in the
universal, taking itself as an end and hence, retrospectively, as
the principle of explication of earlier formations
[Baudrillard, 1975:11 3-4 3.

The self-bestowal of epistemological primacy by Marx's general theory

of history may of course be traced back to his Hegelian philosophical
background. This was the stance, however, quite unequivocally condemned by
Marx in his bourgeois adversaries as a "selfish misconception" [Communist
Manifesto:493, an ideological pitfall, which was itself the product of the
society they lived in. Yet, how else can we characterise his own general
theory of history which rests on a similarly arrogant misconception of
contemporary society's 'privileged position' which is supposed to provide
the possibility for the objective mode of explanation to which all
previous societies are called upon to respond? [63 And why should this be
any less ridden with the "vertigo of ideology" [Lefort, 1978:617D, since
the socialist eschatology upon which it is built seems, in its turn, to
project the consciousness and hopes of contemporary man onto the time of
history? This impression would probably stand for all of Marx's writings
were it not for the striking absence of the orthodox application of his
general model in many of his historical analyses. In the latter the
'canonical' approach is abandoned because its claim to universality
effectively mortgages the analysis of precapitalist societies. Before we
return to these, however, a brief examination of Engels's place in the
present context is in order.

[6] Hence its europocentric or "imperialistic" [Baudrillard, 1975:48]

character.
173
 In the orthodox mainstream of Marxism the full and total identity
between the thought of Marx and Engels had for many years been established
as an article of faith. Marx and Engels used to be treated as intellectual
twins to the extent that any utterance by the one was regarded as evidence
for a view held by the other. The development of Marxist philosophy,
however, together with the posthumous publication of Marx's Grundrisse and
the re-examination of his earlier writings, gradually gave rise to the
exactly oppos_ite_j^iew--according to which Engels's ideas were regarded as
the first corruption of Marx's intellectual heritage and Engels was
branded the first revisionist of Marxism. In particular, Engels was
accused of having converted Marx's historical formulations into law-like
statements, universally applicable irrespective of temporal and spatial
references, in which their original specificity was radically
impoverished. [7]

It is, however, extremely doubtful whether either of these views can be

wholly defended. [8] It is at least apparent that any a priori assumption
of either their identity or difference is quite inappropriate; rather,
"the matter can only be solved at the concrete level of the comparison of
the texts that they wrote" [Llobera, 1979:251]. This is why, in our
particular case, the discussion of Engels's treatment of the ancient world

[7] The radical "separation" of Engels from Marx goes of course well
beyond their respective approaches to history and refers, primarily,
to the differences in their philosophical conceptions, for which
evidence is usually sought in the juxtaposition of Marx's earlier
works on philosophy to Engels's later philosophical constructions,
especially his Anti-Duhring and Dialectics of Nature. On the radical
'divorcing' of Engels from Marx, cf., among others: Colletti [1972:65];
Coulter [1971:129-37]; Hodges [1965:297-308]; Lichtheim [1961:58-61
and 234-58], [1967:6], [1971:26, 66-73, and 154], and [1973:452]; Rubel
[1981:17-25]; Sartre [1976:27-40]; Tucker [1961:184]. For the most
extreme and unsophisticated accentuation of the difference, cf.
Levine [1975:esp.159ff.] and Sartre's reference to Marx's "destructive
encounter with Engels" [cited in Gouldner, 1980:251]. See also Craver
[1983:154-7] who maintains that the co-operation between Marx and
Engels not only corrupted the former's ideas but also, to a certain
extent, stunted the latter's autonomous intellectual development in
as much as Engels was assigned to play "second fiddle" to Marx.
[8] For contemorary 'supporters' of Engels, cf.: Novack [1978:85-115],
Timpanaro [1974:13] and [1975:42 and 131]. The latter, in particular,
is unsparing in his laudatory appreciation of Engels, speaking of hi3
"extraordinary competence" as an ethnologist and historian and
praising the Origin as a "splendid book" [Timpanaro, 1975:131 and 42,
respectively T
174
and his unilinear conception of change in his Origin had to be separately
appended to the main text.

It seems, then, that the radical differentiation of Engels from Marx is

not only untenable but of a rather suspect nature too. For what the drawing
of a sharp dividing line between them effectively does is to deny that
there are inconsistencies within Marx's own work. In his spirited defence
of Engels, Gouldner has perceived the dubiousnes of similar attempts by
pointing out that these rest

on a most un-Marxist assumption: that Marxism simply cannot be

internally contradictory, that there are no real contradictions
within it, but only differences between two persons, Marx and
Engels, the latter of whom is downgraded as the first "vulgar"
Marxist and an oversimplifying 'amateur' to boot [Gouldner,
1980:253].

The dramatisation of the differences between Marx and Engels conceals the
fact that Marx did have his share in the production of a reductionist and
determinist historical standpoint; it fails to appreciate that Engels's
sweeping generalisations presupposed, to a large extent, Marx's 1859
Preface, and it leaves unresolved the problem of their joint works, [9] and
the biographical fact that Marx , up to hi3 death, never offered any
serious objections to Engels's formulations. [10] To saddle Engels alone
with the burden of a reductionist and determinist theory of history [e.g.
Lichtheim, 1973:^52] and to suggest that the latter "was conceived in the

[9] Namely, The Holy Family, The German Ideology, and The Communist
Manifesto, as well as numerous instances of co-operation in political
journalism. The problem of their joint works is not of course
entirely resolved by somewhat facile suggestions of the kind that,
"since their final version was in each case set down by Marx, they can
be considered as Marx's writings ..." [Avineri, 1968:3n]
[10] This is especially--relevantin "the case of Engels's Anti-Duhring,
which Marx had read in manuscript. To suggest that Marx failed to
dissociate himself from its formulations because "he regarded the
book as a popular tract destined for a semi-literate public"
[Lichtheim, 1973:^52] or "out of respect for the friendship that
bounded them in solidarity until the last" [Rubel, 1981:23] and
because "Marx felt it easier, in view of their long friendship, their
role as leading socialists, and the usefulness of Engels's financial
resources, to keep quiet and not interfere in his work" [Carver,
1983:129-30] is mere biased speculation or/and imputation of motives,
aiming at the uncritical hiography of Marx via the scapegoating of
Engels.

175
mind of Friedrich Engels" [Rubel, 1981:17] who transformed Marx's
historical approach into an "ersatz religion" [ibid:23], is an exercise
which can rest only on a very selective reading of their texts, a reading
which minimises their similarities and which results, in effect, in
replacing a "vulgar Marxism" with "a vulgar criticism of Engels"
[Gouldner, 1980:251].

The problem of course does not lie solely in Engels's appropriation of

Marxian ideas but in the fact that the latter contain internal
contradictions which were never resolved by Marx. In a sense, the effort to
radically separate Marx from Engels derives largely from the latter's
consistency in observing the postulates of their joint theory of history.
Thus, it is the difficulties Engels encounters in his attempt to apply the
general model in his analysis of primitive society in the Origin that make
transparent its reductionist and determinist character; while, on the
other hand, Marx's unspoken but nonetheless significant preparedness to
allow it to fall into desuetude when engaged in the study of precapitalist
forms in the Grundrisse (in other words, his very 'inconsistency' or
failure to remain faithful to his own general scheme) is what makes his
analytical approach infinetely more flexible and sophisticated.

This does not of course absolve Engels of the responsibility for the
widespread perception of the -Marxian historical perspective as
reductionist and determinist. For it was Engels's assumption of the role of
the custodian and exegete of Marx's ideas after the latter's death, his
position as the 'first Marxist*, as it were, which led to the further
schmatisation of the Marxian theory of history. Engels's editorial and
exegetical labours, combined with the special status conferred upon him as
Marx's life-long collaborator and friend, [11] enhanced the effect of his
particular one-sided appropriation (but not necessarily
misappropriation') of Marx's writings, so that the latter came to be read

[11]' Engels's modesty in scrupulously acknowledging his inferior role in

the partnership with Marx [cf., e.g., Engels to Mehring:433] may well
have contributed, as Lichtheim [1967:6] suggests, to the uncritical
acceptance of his particular interpretation of Marx's ideas.
176
through the Engelsian grid. [12] In this process of the codification of
Marx's ideas, of the "transition", in other words, "from Marx to Marxism"
[Stedman Jones, 1973:19], all the aforementioned temporal pressures that
had already appeared during Marx's lifetime (i.e. polemical scope, need to
provide the socialist movement with a coherent and effective ideological
tool, etc.) assumed an even greater immediacy. The result was the emergence
of a highly schematised 'Marxist' explanatory scheme of history, according
to which society wa3 analysed by means of a mechanistic reductionism which
regarded the 'superstructure' as a mere reflex of the economic 'base1, and
historical change was seen as solely determined by the economy. [13] This
was a development that caused some apprehension to Engels himself, as it
becomes apparent from his warnings against the worst excesses of
reductionism and determinism in historical analysis [cf., e .g., Engels to
Bloch:396; and Engels to Borgius:442]. Whether such a development would
have been possible under Marx, since it "merely accentuated a tendency
that was already present in Marx" [Korsch, 1970:80], and whether "Marx's
purity" really "depended in part on his earlier death" [Gouldner,
1980:251], are of course questions of suspect legitimacy and of little but
speculative value.

-E'2}~This particular happens'tance makes the determination of the relation

between the two even more difficult. For, as Carver [1983:157]
observes, it is "almost as if the Marx-Engels relationship occurred
twice, once in Marx's lifetime, for which we read the historical
record forwards, and once again during the years in which Engels
survived him."
[13] The process of the transmission of Marx's ideas, through Engels, to
the first generation of Marxists (Kautsky, Bernstein, Plekhanov), and
of their subsequent codification into a philosophical dogma during
the Second International, are problems that have received relatively
little attention. For a brief and informed (albeit intensely hostile
to Engels) analysis, cf. Colletti [1975:8-16].
177
 8. MATERIAL PRODUCTION

As we saw in Part I, Marx's general theory of history is based upon a

onception of society as a structured entity in which distinct types of
nstitutions and spheres of activity are hierarchically and determinately
rdered (i.e. economic base giving rise to a non-economic superstructure,
t c ) . On the other hand, the discussion of his analysis of the ancient
orld in Part II revealed Marx's departure from this reductionist model; in
lassical antiquity, politics, far from being derived from and determined
y an economic 'base', was treated as virtually indistinguishable from it.
view of his own concrete analysis, then, it would not be an exaggeration
suggest that what Marx's 1859 Preface tells us, despite its purported
niversality, is "how not to handle precapitalist social forms"
Harbsmeier, 1978:24]. In the present chapter we are to pursue the
mplications of Marx's 'deviant' analysis of preoapitalism further and
hereby clarify the essentially teleological character of his general
ase/Superstructure Model. In particular, we shall be concerned with
uestioning not merely the reductionism of the model (i.e. superstructure
ua base, politics qua economics); but also the very applicability of its
erms in preoapitalism, namely whether terms or descripive categories such
s 'economy' and 'politics' are really appropriate in the analysis of
recapitalist societies.

It should be made clear from the outset, though, that the pursuit of
hese questions continues to take place in an exegetical rather than a
ubstantial context. The problem is, in other words, approached from the
oint of Marx's own theoretical concerns, the analytical objectives he
eta down and the points he wishes to make, with the view of determining
nether all these are potentially served better by his fragmented and
nfinished historical notes, than they are by the articulate universal
exposition of his 1859 Preface. The. intrinsic limitations of such an
.ttempt, however, should not be forgotten. To argue that some of Marx's
'ritings imply an anti-teleological historical perspective is not to try
ind reconstruct a supposedly 'pure' Marxism. As with most cases of

178
exegesis, this one too depends largely on extrapolation and
interpretation, or on what Althusser would call a specific 'reading' of
Marx, which consists here in stressing one part of his work against the
other. Arguing by appeal to authority is a rather dubious procedure in
general; but in our case it is quite nonsensical too, for, however hard one
may try, one cannot waive away the 'Marxian Inconsistency', the fact, in
other words, that the "authority" presents itself "in terms of a divided
thought" [Lefort, 1978:617] and can consequently be discussed only as such.

With these limitations in mind, let us briefly and rather schematically

examine Marx's primary concerns in his involvement in historical analysis.
On the one hand, Marx wished to disprove the ahistorical view held by
classical political economy, according to which capital was seen as "a
general, eternal relation of nature" [Grundrisse:86] and capitalist
society was accordingly treated as a universal and immutable state of
affairs. The confutation of this notion could only be- achieved by showing
that capitalism was itself the product of history, that it had been
preceded by other types of society and that it was therefore itself
transient and bound to give way to a different society. His approach to the
study of precapitalist societies is accordingly conditioned by the need
"to say something about capitalism by negation" [Kahn et al., 1981:301] and
thus to demonstrate its historical specificity.

On the other hand, such a 'historical' project depended upon the

descriptive analysis of essentially different types of social
organisation. This could only be achieved, however, by the abandonment of
all forms of metaphysical explanation and the corresponding concentration
on the "real life-process" [German IdeoIogy:25] of individuals in time.
That was why Marx's concern with the demonstration of the historical
specificity of capitalism entailed also a radical break with idealist
thought which regarded "the process of thinking" as "the creator of the
real world" [Capital 1:102] and history as the unfolding of metaphysical
principles. This anti-idealist stance was forcefully put forward in one of
Marx's and Engels's earliest programmatic principles:

In direct contrast to German philosophy which descends from

heaven to earth, here we ascend from earth to heaven. That is to
say, we do not set out from what men say, imagine, conceive, nor

179
 from men as narrated, thought of, imagined, conceived, in order
to arrive at men in the flesh. We set out from real, active men,
and on the basis of their real life-process we demonstrate the
development of the ideological reflexes and echoes of this
life-process [German Ideology:25].

For Marx, the objective understanding of society and its development

consisted in the discovery of that level of reality which lay hidden
underneath its visible representation. The task of science, he thought, was
the stripping off of all metaphysics, the dmystification of social
reality from its idealist misconceptions; this could only be brought about
by a radical shift of attention from the world of ideas to the "real life-
process" of individuals, to the relations, in other words, under which
individuals carry out the production of their material life which
constituted for Marx "the basis of all social life and therefore of all
real history" [Capital I:286n].

This binary purpose, the confutation of the ahistorical treatment of

society together with the abject rejection of idealism, is therefore the
foundation upon which Marx's approach to social and historical analysis
rested. Hence Engels's characterisation of it as 'Historical Materialism
which denotes exactly these two primary aims, as Lichtheim [1973:^531
rightly points out: ^-~>-_

The 'historical' element in this 'historical materialism' lay in

the fact that [Marx -PL] described as 'bourgeois' the social
relations ... which Smith and Ricardo treated as 'natural'. The
'materialism' lay in his ascription to the 'relations of
production' of a higher degree of reality than had been accorded
them by Hegel and the other 'idealist' German philosophers.

180
 But what does Marx's 'materialism' actually involve? [1] Should it be
seen as an 'econoraism' which accords primacy to an 'economic base' in all
forms of society as the 1859 Preface requires? Or is the identification of
the terms 'material production' and 'economy' itself temporally specific, a
'product of history' as it were, which obtains only in a particular form of
social organisation? Let us try to tackle these questions setting out from
the fundamental Marxian conception of human nature.

Marx's materialist standpoint was premissed on his definition of the

physis of man as an animal laborans, a subject that is compelled to produce
the material means of his life:

Men can be distinguished from animals by consciousness, by

[1] The term !materialism' is misleading in so far as it implies that

'matter' is seen as an absolute substance, a metaphysical arche'or a
Platonic ontos on. This was certainly the interpretation which Engels
put upon it in his later philosophical works (i.e. Anti-Duhrlng,
Dialectics of Nature) and which was taken up by the first generation
of Marxists (hence Plekhanov's label of 'Dialecical Materialism'). It
is however very doubtful that Marx would have subscribed to such an
interpretation of his ideas, as Schmidt [1971:19-50] has convincingly
demonstrated. The lapse into philosophical or ontological
materialism appears to have been a post-Marxian development, aided no
doubt by the same polemical, political and psychological
considerations already alluded to in the previous chapter. Yet, such
a development ran contrary to Marx's intentions, for what he was
aiming at, namely a theory of praxis, of the active interaction
between man and nature, could not at the same time be a theory of
being in which one of the terms of the relationship (i.e. nature,
matter) was accorded ontological primacy. Such a theory would merely
reverse the order of, but not abolish, the old idealist dichotomy
between 'mind' and 'matter'. And this is indeed what ocurred after
Marx; in place of philosophical idealism which regarded matter as the
manifestation of spirit, philosophical materialism treated the mind
as the epiphenomenon of the material object. But by conserving the
original dichotomy the latter remained a "willing prisoner of
bourgeois cultural idealism" [Harris, 1969:3] from which it sought to
escape. Marx's 'materialist' project, however, was of a rather
different kind, as Dupre [1967:^3*0 explains: "Ordinary materialism
reduces man to nature. Marx's 'materialism' relates man to nature. It
leaves the proper character of consciousness intact and only
excludes Ideology, that is, any mental creation which claims to be
independent of consciousness' active relation to nature ... Marx's
historical materialism is as far removed from materialism as it is
from idealism. It consists in a refusal to carry on speculation, for
its own sake, beyond the dialectic of action. Any such speculation on
what consciousness and nature are in themselves, independent of the
other term of the dialectic, is an ideology. This is true even if the
conclusion is that all being is material, for such a conclusion
reduces one term of the dialectic to the other ..."

181
 religion or anything else you like. They themselves begin to
distinguish themselves from animals' as soon as they begin to
produce their means of subsistence ... By producing their means
of subsistence men are indirectly producing their actual
material life [German Ideology:20].

The indispensable condition of all human existence is, then, the

expenditure of productive energy, of labour:

Labour, ..., as the creator__gf use-values, as useful labour, is a

condition of"numc5Texistence which is independent of all forms
of society; it is an eternal natural necessity which mediates
the metabolism between man and nature, and therefore human life
itself [Capital 1:1 333.

The only conditions of production which can therefore be regarded as truly

universal and unalterable are: on the one -hand, the 'subjective, i.e.
labour, men as producing agents, as labouring individuals; and on the
other, the 'objective', i.e. the sensuous world, nature, which provides them
with the means and object of labour. [2] The universality of such a
general definition of production, of the postulation in other words of
this dyad of invariable elements, arises "from the identity of subject,
lumanity, and the object, nature" [Grundrisse:853 of production in all
temporal and spatial settings. [3] It is necessary as a starting-point,
:he methodological preraiss^-of the materialist approach to social and
listorical analysis:

Production in general is an abstraction, but a rational

abstraction in so far as it really brings out and fixes the
common elements ... [ibid].

'et, being such an "abstraction", i.e. being universal,.it cannot convey

mything concrete unless it is located in time and space, unless in other
rords it becomes production in a particular historical setting. "All
roduction" is therefore "appropriation of nature on the part of an
ndfvidual within and through a specific form of society" [ibid:87]. Talk

2] "Whatever the social form of production, workers and means of

production always remain its factors" [Capital 11:1 20].
3] "Production in general", i.e. "the labour process independently of any
specific social formation" is "a process between man and nature, a
process by which man, through his own actions, mediates, regulates and
controls the metabolism between himself and nature" [Capital 1:283].
182
of "production in general", of production outside a specific historical
setting, is at best platitudinous, and at worst fallacious in so far as i t
leaves essentially unchallenged the myth of classical political economy
according to which production is "encased in eternal natural laws
independent of history" [ibid]. This is why, whenever Marx proposes to
speak of "production", "what is meant is always production at a definite
stage of social development" [ibid:85].

The invariable elements of production are combined in different ways

and the mode in which their connection is effected is what distinguishes
different societies and accords production its particular historical
character. The recognition of the importance of the historical specificity
of production, then, implies the mutability of its character in history,
the fact, in other words, that the forms under which production is
organised are subject to qualitative variation. This is the intended
meaning of Marx's point that production,

this general category, this common element sifted out by

comparison, is itself segmented many times over and split into
different determinations. Some determinations belong to all
epochs, others only to a few [ibid].

The question, then, becomes which are exactly those "determinations"

that are not shared by all epochs and what are the implications of such a
major differentiation. The latter can only refer to the type of the
relationship between the two invariable elements of production, the manner
in which labour and means of production are combined, in short whether
their relation is one of unity or separation. Marx believed that the first
condition, that of the unity of the subjective (labour) and objective
(nature) elements of production was 'given', i.e. naturally arisen, and as
such it did not require explanation. What was important was the departure
from such a 'natural' state of affairs,~ the change in the determination
of production which comes about with the separation of labour from the
means of production; and this qualitative rupture is acccomplished only in
capitalist society:

It is not the unity of living and active humanity with th3

natural, inorganic conditions of their metabolic exchange with
nature, and hence their appropriation of nature, which requires

183
 explanation or is the result of a historic process, but rather
the separation between these inorganic conditions of human
existence and this active existence, a separation which is
completely posited only in the relation of wage-labour and
capital [ibid:489.].

Accordingly, in all forms of society preceding capitalism production was

'determined* in a similar manner in so far as it was based on the "natural
unity of labour with its material [sachlich] presuppositions" [ibid:471].

But what does this unity of the subjective and objective conditions of
production actually consist of? Marx's answer to this lies in his
definition of what he considers to be the "original conditions" or
"natural presuppositions" [ibid:489] of all forms of precapitalist
production:

In all these forms ... there is to be found: (1 )Appropriation not

through labour, but prespposed to labour; appropriation of the
natural conditions of labour, of the earth as the original
instrument of labour as well as it3 workshop and repository of
raw materials. The individual relates simply to the objective
conditions of" labour as being his; [relates] to them as the
inorganic nature of his subjectivity, in which the latter
realizes itself ... (2)but this relation to land and soil, to the
earth, as the property of the labouring individual ... is
~-' -- instantly mediated by the naturally arisen, spontaneous, more or
less historically developed and modified presence of the
individual as member of a commune ... [ibid:485].

The natural unity of labour and means of production arises, therefore, from
the fact that the individual "appears originally as a species-being
[Gattungswesen], clan being, herd animal" [ibid:496]. [4] His productive
existence is indissolubly linked to this condition of being a member of a
commune in both an "objective" and a "subjective" sense [ibid:490].
Objectively, in so far as the appropriation by his labour of the means of
production depends upon his belonging to a commune; it is only as "such a
member" that he has access to the means of production, that "he relates to
a specific nature (eay, here, still earth, land, soil) as his own inorganic
being, as a condition of his production" [ibid]. And subjectively, in so

[4] For an interesting elaboration of the 'natural' and 'spontaneous

character of this unity in precapitalist societies, see Meillassoux
[1980:194-6].
184
far as he works, i.e. he expends productive activity, by virtue of his being
a commune member, which is a state of existence "presupposed to his
activity, ... not ...a result of it" [ibid:U85]. The fundamental relation of
precapitalist production is therefore founded on the existence of a
community of which the individual is a member, for it is the community that
"presupposes its subjects in a specific unity with their conditions of
production" [ibid:496]. The individual relates to the latter, i.e. to his
means of production, as "his property" because such a relation "is
mediated by his being himself the natural member of a community"
Cibid:490]. [5]

The presence of the community is, then, the 'common determination' of

all precapitalist production. It is its origin and basis in so far as it
brings together, 'combines', labour and its object, thereby furnishing the
relations under which production takes place. The permanent effectiveness
of the natural communal presupposition of all precapitalist production
does of course allow for modifications in time and variations in space,
which are themselves "the results of a historical process" [ibid]; hence
the range of precapitalist forms (i.e. Asiatic, ancient, Germanic, etc.)
which Marx describes in the Grundrisse. It is worth re-examining here the
specific form this 'communal mediation' assumes in' the ancient world.
Although pure communal property ha3 retreated to the confines of the ager
publicus, the relationship of the individual to the land as his private
property continues to depend upon and be mediated by his being a member of
the polis; that is, of that community of citizens which, however modified,
remains the presupposition of his social and productive existence. [6] The
'determination' of ancient production thus assumes the specific form of
the producer as a property owner qua citizen: "the private proprietor of
land is such only as a Roman, but as a Roman he is a private proprietor of

[5] Cf.: "An isolated individual could no more have property in land and
soil than he could speak" [Grundrisse:^85l.
[6] Although appearing as "a negative unity towards the outside"
(although, in other words, being "already a product of history",
"possessing an origin"), the ancient commune is still "the
presupposition of property in land and soil - i.e. of the relation of
the working subject to the natural presuppositions of his labour as
belonging to him - but this belonging [is] mediated by his being a
member of the state, by the being of the state ..." [ibid:475].
185
land" [ibid:476]. Ancient private property, unlike capitalist private
property, is derived from the essential communal presupposition of
production. [7] The existence of the individual as a producer cum private
proprietor is thus mediated by the community in its specific antique form.
This applies to the slave's existence too, albeit inversely, because hi3
position is determined by the 'loss' of his membership in a community. It
is because he is a non-citizen that the slave "stands in no relation
whatsoever to the objective conditions of his labour" [ibid:M89]; this is
why Marx remarks that slavery is but a by-product of "property founded on
the community and labour in the community" [ibid:U96].

The essential unity of labour and means of production is broken only

with the advent of capitalism. In contrast to precapi tal ism, capitalist
relations of production presuppose the complete separation of the two
elements of production. Their severance, however, entails also the radical
transformation of their respective character into the specific forms of
rfage-labour and capital, and the reconstitution of their combination in a
substantially novel type of production.

For labour to be dissociated from the means of production, a process of

iissolution of all the various forms under which the individual related to
ature as his property is necessary. Such a process involves, in effect,
;he dissolution of all forms of production which "presuppose a community,
rhose members, ..., are, as members of it, proprietors" [ibid:497]. The
lisintegration of all communal forms that bind the producers together
tbolishes both the producer's relationship to the means of production and
,he character of his labour as labour performed primarily in and for the
community. [8] The producer emerges for the first time as "free",

in the double sense that as a free individual he can dispose of

his labour-power as his own commodity, and that, on the other
hand, he has no other commodity for sale, i.e. he is rid of them,
he is free of all the objects needed for the realization
[Verwirklichung] of his labour-power [Capital 1:272-3].

7] Cf. Lefort's [1978:624] formulation that, unlike capitalism, private

property is here "unable to provide its own legitimacy and looks to
the [polis -PL] for its foundation and guarantee."
8] It abolishes his relationship to the community in both the
"objective" and "subjective" forms described [cf. 0rundrlsse:M90].
186
The type of the producer's 'property' is thus radically transformed.
Whereas in precapitalism he participated in the collective ownership of
the means of production as a commune member, in capitalism the absence of
the community extinguishes all such property claims while simultaneously
releasing his productive energy, his labour, as his own (and sole)
property.

For the capital/wage-labour relation to emerge, two preconditions are

therefore necessary. On the one hand, the producer must be the proprietor
of his own labour capacity; he must be free to alienate it for limited
periods as his own property. [9] This did not apply to the commune member
in precapitalism and even less to the non-member (e.g. slave) whose labour
was, if anything, even more encased into the communal framework of
production. For it to obtain, then, what is required is, in effect, the
dissolution

likewise at the same time of the relations'in which the workers

themselves, the living labour capacities themselves, still
belong directly among the objective conditions of production,
and are appropriated as such -i.e. are slaves or serfs
[Grundrisse:^].

On the other hand, the producers must cease to have claims to the ownership
of the means of production as commune members, they must be "unencumbered
by any means of production of their own" [Capital 1:87^], so that they are
compelled to alienate the only property at their disposal, namely their
labour-power. They must, in other words, find themselves in a situation in
which they confront "all objective conditions of production as alien
property, as their own not-property" [Grundrisse:502]. And this means that
these "objective conditions" have been radically divorced

from their previous state of attachment to the individuals now

separated from them. They are still there on hand, but in another
form; as a free fund, in which all political etc. relations are
obliterated [ibid:503L

The means of production, thus, assume the specific form of capital. And it

[9] For, otherwise, if, that is, he did not manage "both to alienate
[verussern] his labour-power and to avoid renouncing his rights of
ownership over it", he would be transformed "from an owner of a
commodity into a commodity" himself [Capital 1:2713.
187
is not their availability or concentration that gives rise to their
emergence as capital, but rather the very fact of their separation from
labour. They become capital "only because of the phenomenon of wage-
labour" [Results:!005], [10] and this is why capital is a category that
does not apply in precapitalism. The concentration of wealth in the latter
is to be treated as stockpiling or hoarding [cf. Grundri3se:503-1 M] rather
than capital, for labour is not yet dissociated from its original
relationship to a community. [11] Wage-labour is therefore^arTecessary
condition for the formation of capital and remains the essential
prerequisite of capitalist production" Results: 1 006].

What capitalism brings about, then, is a radical transformation of the

respective character of the conditions of production. It causes

the divorce of elements which up until then were bound together;

its result is therefore not that one of the elements disappears,
but that each of them appears in a negative relation to the
other ... [Grundrisse;503].

From their original state f unity in precapitalism, labour and means of

production are now counterposed to each other: on the one hand, capital,
"real wealth ..., money ..., i.e. the means of subsistence and the means of
production", and on the other, wage-labour, "the possibility ofwealth, i.e.
labour-power" [ Results: 1015]. From this state of separation and
juxtaposition in capitalism, the two conditions of production are brought
together only through the act of exchange. The free worker (the owner of
labour) and the capitalist (the owner of the means of production) "meet in
the market, and enter into relations with each other on a footing of
equality, as owners of commodities" [Capital 1:271 ]. Their relationship is
of a purely transactional character since, "like all buyers and sellers",
they are involved in "the exchange of equivalents" [Results:! 002], namely

[10] Capital "arises only when the owner of the means of production and
subsistence finds the free worker available, on the market, as the
seller of his own labour-power" [Capital 1:27t].
[11 ] Cf.: "the mere presence of monetary wealth is in no way sufficient
for this dissolution into capital to happen" [Grundrlsse:506].
188
their respective commodities. [12] The combination of the elements of
production in capitalism is founded, then, on the principle of exchange.
The dissolution of their original unity in precapitalisti! means that their
reconstituted relationship in capitalist production is "a relationship of
sale and purchase, a purely financial relationship" [ibid: 1027].

This qualitative transformation of the mode of combination of labour

and the means of production in capitalism has far-reaching repercussions.
For the relationship of exchange which brings them together alters the
very nature of these conditions and imbues capitalist production with a
unique content. In precapitalism the unity of labour and means of
production is constituted on the basis of the community, on the fact, that
is, that the labourer has access, as a commune member, to the ownership of
the means of production. The dissolution of this communal bond and the
unity it involves alters radically the producta, position of the labourer.
Previously, he had "an objective existence independent of labour"
[Grundrisse:471 ], an existence as a commune member, and he related to
others in the same capacity, for he had as yet "as little torn himself free
from the umbilical cord of his tribe or community as a bee has from his
hive" [Capital 1:^52], As against this, however, the labourer in capitalism
has an existence only as the owner of his labour-power; his existence is
therefore no longer "presupposed to his activity" but is "a result of it"
[Grundrisse; 4 85]. He now stands "without objectivity, subjectively"
[ibid:496], as the bearer of free labour, the purely subjective condition
of production. [13] Dettached from the precapitalist community, that is,
"from the natural bonds etc. which in earlier historical periods make him
the accessory of a definite and limited human conglomerate" [ibid:83], the

[12] And this could not be so but for the commodification of labour-power
itself: "the sale and purchase of labour-power, displays to us the
capitalist and the worker only as the buyer and seller of
commodities. What distinguishes the worker from the vendors of other
commodities'is only the specific nature, the specific use-value, of
the commodity he sells. But the particular use-value of a commodity
does not affect the economic form of the transaction; it does not
alter the fact that the purchaser represents money, and the vendor a
commodity" [Results: 1 002].
[13] The free worker is "objectless, purely subjective labour capacity
confronting the objective conditions of production as his not-
property, as alien property, ..., as capital" [Grundrisse:1^].
189
capitalist labourer appears "in the dot-like isolation [Punktualitt] ...
as mere free worker" [ibid:485], a totally isolated individual whose
existence is determined solely by his possession of labour-power. [14] The
mode of association of individuals is correspondingly transformed also.
Whereas they used to relate to each other a3 co-proprietors, as "members
of a community, who at the same time work" [ibid:471 ], they can now relate
only as owners of commodities, as wage-labourers or/and capitalists. The
communal form of their original association has been replaced by the
transactional character of their contact. Exchange and its medium, money,
have now become the chief form of social connectedness, the "all-sided
mediation" between and "social bond" of individuals [ibid:156], [15]

If the mode of combination of the separate conditions of production in

capitalism is affected by the central fact of their exchange, so is the
character of capitalist production itself. Labour-power is exchanged for
capital for the purpose of producing something exchangeable in turn, i.e.
another commodity. As Marx puts it:

if the commodity appears on the one hand as the premiss of the

formation of capital, it is also essentially the result, the
product of capitalist production ... [Results:950].

With the commodification of labour-power in capitalism, exchange provides

not only the basis upon'which labour and capital are combined but also the
purpose and rationale of capitalist production itself. [16] In
precapi tal ism, where the producer was still a commune member, production
was neither mediated by nor destined for the market. On the contrary,
because wage-labour had not as yet emerged, commodity-production did not
and could not penetrate the core of precapitalist relations of production;
wherever it did exist it was only marginal and isolated:

Prior to capitalist production a large part of what was produced

[14] "For capital, the worker is not a condition of production, only work
is" [Grundrisse:^].
[15] Exchange and community are thus mutually exclusive as forms of social
connectedness. Hence Marx's remark, that "the less social power the
medium of exchange posesses ... the greater must be the power of the
community which bind the individuals together" [Grundrissen 57].
[16] The implications of this for the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production are discussed in the next chapter.
190
 did not take the form of commodities, nor was it produced for
that purpose ... The transformation of produce into commodities
occurred only at isolated points; it affected only the surplus
produce, or only particular sectors (such as manufactured
goods). Produce as a whole did not enter into the process as
merchandise, nor did it emerge as such from the process
[Results: 1059].

With the dissolution of the communal bond and the emergence of wage-
labour, however, the character of production is radically altered.
Capitalist production is the production of commodities, of exchange-
values, of products produced for exchange. In capitalism the commodity
becomes "the universally necessary form of the product", [17] since
everything that is produced must be exchangeable, it must necessarily "be
absorbed into commerce" [ibid:953.1. [18] Products, the results of
production, are as much 'mediated' by exchange as the conditions of
production are. This 'domination' of production by exchange is the ultimate
consequence of the dissolution of its original communal basis. For only
when the producer finds himself isolated from the ownership of the means
of production and has to sell his labour-power, does the product "cease to
be produced as the immediate means of subsistence of the producer himself"
and become a commodity [Capital 1:273]. It is with the rise of wage-labour,
then,

that production has become the production of commodities

through its entire length and breadth. Only then does all
produce become commodity ... the universal elementary form of
wealth [Results:950-1 ]. [19]

[17] Cf.: "it is only with the emergence of capitalist production that use-
value is universally mediated by exchange-value" [Results:951 ].
[18] "The existence of value in its purity and generality presupposes a
mode of production in which the individual productTTias" ceased to
exist for the producer in general and even more for the individual
worker, and where nothing exists unless it is realized through
circulation. For the person who creates an infinitesimal part of a
yard of cotton, the fact that this is value, exchange value, is not a
formal matter. If he had not created an exchange value, money, he
would have created nothing at all" [ Grundrisse:251-2].
[19] And, inversely, "as long as labour capacity does not itself exchange
itself, the foundation of production does not yet rest on exchange,
but exchange is rather merely a narrow circle resting on a foundation
of non-exchange, as in all stages preceding bourgeois production"
[Grundrisse:67^].
191
 The above lengthy organisation of Marx's remarks sufficiently indicates
the existence of .. a 'connecting thread' in his thought, namely the
persistent concern of bringing out the uniqueness of the 'determination'
of capitalist production. Capitalism thus emerges as the only form in
which production takes place on the basis of exchange ( i.e. that of wage-
labour and capital) and for the purposes of exchange (i.e. the production
of exchange-values). It is production by commodities and of commodities
and, in this respect, it stands out as unique. It is this uniqueness that is
borneout of Marx's sharp demarcation between capitalist production and all
its predecessors in terms of their major 'determination' (i.e.
separation/unity of labour and means of production). Capitalist production
thus signifies a decisive rupture in the given organisation of production;
it establishes so radical a mutation in the determination of production
relations that the distinctions between precapitalist forms fade into
insignificance in its face and appear as no more than mere variations of a
singular basic structure. [20] For it is only in capitalism that the
communal basi3 of production which is characteristic of all previous forms
no longer exists; in it production is differentiated into an autonomous,
market-regualated sphere of activities, dettached from all non-commodity
considerations, and therefore emerges, for the first time, as an economy .
In the"faoe~of this specifically capitalist phenomenon, all other forms of
production reveal an essential affinity between them, a "kinship" [Lefort,
1978:635] consisting, in effect, of not being 'economies' proper. [21]

[20] This concern to bring out the essential discontinuity between

precapitalism and capitalism is evident especially in the Grundrisse
(Formen), a fact that may. go some way in explaining why this
particular (unpublished) work does not involve any sustained attempt
at the construction of a uniform and universal mode of historical
causation and why, consequently, it constitutes the major source of
discrepancies with Marx's general theory of history.
[21] It is only in terms of this discontinuity, i.e. of the affinity of
precapitalist forms in contrast to capitalism, that the essence of
Marx's metaphor of the ape/man anatomy [cf. Grundrisse;!05] could
possibly be sustained with consistency. For this to happen, however,
all teleological connotations should first be removed, so that
capitalist production would help disclose the 'kinship' of its
predecessors, not because it is a 'higher' form, but because its
'determination* is so radically different from theirs. Instead of the
ascription of epistemological primacy of the capitalist present over
the precapitalist past, the metaphor, were it to be interpreted in a
non-teleological vein, should merely bring forward the analytical
contrast between the two.
192
 This is borne out from an examination of the implications of the
discontinuity between capitalist and precapitalist production onto the
level of the relations of production and the manner in which social
classes are differentiated. In precapitalism, it is the community that
mediates productive activity; its specific historical form, e.g. "the
patriarchal relation, the community of antiquity, feudalism and the guild
system" [Grundrisse;! 573, is what determines the individual's position in
production and gives rise to social antagonisms. Classes are
differentiated on the basis of their relation to the community and the
access it affords to the principal means of production; [22] thus, slaves,
for example, are counterposed to citizens by virtue of their not being
members of the polis. In capitalism, however, where money (i.e. the medium
of exchange) j ^ the community [cf. ibid:224], it is the commodity character
of production that 'determines directly the class position of the
individual; the worker is the one who offers his labour-power for sale to
the capitalist who has the means to purchase it. The class structure
appears therefore "for the first time in a pure, namely, an economic form"
[Habermas, 1979:124], because it is directly derived from "the polarization
of the commodity-market into these two classes" [Capital 1:874]. [23]

The character of exploitation, i.e. of the appropriation of surplus, is

correspondingly altered. In capitalism the exploitation of the direct
producer assumes the form of surplus-value extracted on the basis of the
exchange terms of labour-power and capital. The capitalist extracts
surplus value by virtue of the fact that he is the owner of commodities
which the worker lacks. But apart from this disparity in their respective
ownership of commodities, no other differentiation exists between them;
they are in all respects (but the economic) "equal in the eyes of the law"
[Capital 1:271] and the process of exploitation of one by the other is
decisevely "stripped from everypatriarchal, political or even religious
cloak" [Results: 1027]. In precapitalism, however, where labour has not as
yet been 'freed' from the community (i.e. where, in effect, it has not been

[22] "Just as exchange value here plays only an accompanying role to use
value, it is not capital but the relation of landed property which
appears as its real basis" [Grundrisse:252].
[23] For an earlier elaboration of this point, cf. Critique of Hegel's
Doctrine of the State:1 37-8,146-8.
193

commodified), surplus labour can only be extorted from the direct producer
"by other than economic pressure" [Capital 111:791 ]. The latter needs to be
understood in its full negative sense, for what is meant to convey is that
exploitation does not take the form of commodity exchange, in other words
of pressure dictated by the disparate ownership of commodities. [24] This
is so not because in precapitalism a sphere other than the economic takes
upon itself the task of the extraction of surplus labour, but because no
such sphere can be strictly said to exist. Therefore, phrases such as
"other than economic pressure" or "extra-economic coercion" do not
signify a form of exploitation alongside the economic, but one which is so
because of the absence of the economic. Instead, then, of diverting
attention to the search of an 'economy1 in precapitalism, [25] what similar
expressions are supposed to bring out is the fact that precapitalist
production relations cannot be properly characterised as economic. [26]

Yet, Marx persists, even in his most anti-reductionist and historically

relative writings (such as the Grundrisse), to speak of an 'economy' as the
foundation of precapitalist societies. But it is evident that what occurs
in such cases is an unjustified conflation of two quite different
meanings. Consider, for instance, the following extract:

the fact that pre-bourgeois history, and each of its phases,

also has its own economy and an economic foundation for its
movement, is at bottom only the tautology that human life has
since time immemorial rested on production, and, in one way or
another, on social production, whose relations we call,
precisely, economic relations [Grundrisse:489].

The question, though, is how "precise" such a "tautology" is in view of the

discontinuity between precapitalism and capitalism which Marx himself

[24] "The appropriation of surplus labour is here not mediated by

exchange, as is the case in capitalist society, but its basis is the
forcible domination of one section of society over the other"
[Theories of Surplus-Value 111:400].
[25] This is exactly the misleading and misled interpretation placed upon
similar phrases by many Marxists and, most notably, by those of the
Althusserian brand. On that point, cf. Harbsmeier [1978:10] and below.
[26] Cf.: "it is obvious that if the extra-economic coercion (i.e.
different from the economic) constitutes the central element in the
relations of production ..., the concept of production and the concept
of the 'economic' cannot be synonymous" [Laclau, 1977:75].
194
wants to bring to light. It is only in capitalism that production comes
forth as specifically economic, and the two terms become interchangeable
and synonymous. In precapital ism, on the other hand, production is neither
by nor of commodities, and to designate it as an 'economy' is both
misleading and fraught Witt1, teleological pitfalls. It is misleading
because it equates 'materialism' with 'economism', although the former is
supposedly concerned only with the exclusion of idealist and metaphysical
interpretations and the shift of analysis onto the mode of material
production, which assumes an economic character in capitalism alone. On
the other hand, there is a reductionist danger in the extension of a
category derived from the present, since the designation of precapitalist
production as an 'economy' entails also the existence of 'non-economic'
spheres which are supposed to be derived from and determined by the
'economy'. This is so because the use of the same descriptive categories
(e.g. economy, politics, etc.) for both precapitalism and capitalism
implies also the existence of the same formal relations between them; the
Base/Superstructure Metaphor is thus projected in a reverse temporal
order so that any attempt to mitigate the effects of the reductionist
rigidity which is built into its very conception is intrinsically limited
and ultimately ineffective.

But if it is in capitalism alone that production assumes the distinct

and autonomous character of a market-regulated sphere, then consistency
calls for the designation of other, genuinely non-economic, spheres of
activity only in that specific historical form. [27] And, consequently, it
is only on the basis of this, their specific separability, that a hierarchy
of determination between them could possibly be sustained. That much is at
least implied by Marx's consideration of the political sphere in
capitalism as the "handmaid" of the economy. [28] Yet again, the situation

[27] Cf.: "while a purely economic order of relationships is outlined and

becomes independent, another sphere detaches itself as well, that of
the political, the religious, the legal, the scientific, the
pedagogical, the aesthetic" [Lefort, 1978:6^3-4].
[28] E.g.: "The executive of the modern State is 'out a committee for
managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie" [Communist
Manifesto:37]. It is the same with ideology too, which aims at
sanctioning the legitimacy of capitalist relations of production by
obscuring their real character; cf., in particular, Marx's analysis of
the "fetishism of the commodity" in Capital 1:1 63-77.
195
should not be different in precapi tal ism because the order of
determination between 'economic base' and 'non-economic superstructure1 is
altered but because no such distinction can be effected outside capitalist
commodityproduction:

It is self-evident that the political constitution as such is

only developed when the private spheres have achieved an
independent existence. Where commerce and landed property are
unfree, where they have not yet asserted their independence,
there can be no political constitution [Critique of H e g e l ' s T ~~~~~
Doctrine of the State:90]. [29]

In the same vein, it may be argued that it is quite mistaken to speak of

'politics' and 'economics' in the study of classical antiquity, for example,
even if this is done only in order to disprove the Base/Superstructure
Model and to demonstrate their irreducible and indissoluble fusion. There
can be, strictly speaking, no distinct 'economic* or 'political' spheres in
the study of the ancient relations of production, if Marx's early [1843]
view, namely that in precapitalism there exists "no political constitution
as distinct from the real, material-state and the other aspects of the life
of the people" [ibid], is to be followed.

This, of course, works both ways. If precapitalist relations of

production do not allow for such distinct spheres of activities, this does---
not only bar the way to economic reductionism; it also means that any
attempt to reduce the social whole to a 'non-economic' sphere, such as
politics or ideology, is equally mistaken. This is particularly important
for the interpretation of the following footnote from Capital I which is
more than often misunderstood:

One thing is clear: the Middle Ages could not live on

Catholicism, nor could the ancient world on politics. On the
contrary, it is the manner in which they gained their livelihood
which explains why in one case politics, in the other
Catholicism, played the chief part [Capital 1:1 76n].

[29] The same of course applies to the state, the political institution
par excellence: "The abstraction of the state as such was not born
until the modern world because the abstraction of private life was
not created until modern times. The abstraction of the political
state is a modern product" [Critique of Hegel's Doctrine of the
State:90].
196
Marx's talk of "Catholicism" and "politics" has been widely taken to show
that he really believed in the applicability of such designated spheres in
precapitalism,, But what the passage actually seems to imply, in view of the
mutation in the determination of capitalist production, is that the
employment of such distinct descriptive categories as 'politics' or
'ideology' should not distract one's attention from the organic and
indissoluble unity of precapitalist relations of production.

Common as they are such misunderstandings actually arise from Marx's

own terminology, i.e. from his use of descriptive categories and his
misequation of 'production' with 'economy'. Why this should have been .so
even in his non-reductionist analyses in the Grundrisse is in itself a
major exegetical problem. It has been suggested, for instance, that the
^uncritical terminological identification of 'production' and 'economy* may
have been due to the fact that in the process of the didactic exposition
of his materialist approach the term "economy" appeared in Marx's eyes to
have a "substantial reality" [Acton, 1951:217] which other categories
seemed to lack. Such a suggestion, however, goes only half-way towards
providing an answer. For the problem seems to lie in the very order of
Marx's analysis, that is in its starting-point and in the manner in which
it proceeds.'In his attempt to demonstrate the radical discontinuity
between capitalism and precapitalism Marx set out from the examination of
the organisation of the former and then worked his way 'back', as it were,
trying to reveal in what way the latter differed from it. Precapitalism, as
the very term denotes, represents what is not capitalism, what does not
obtain in capitalism, what is different from capitalism; it is, in other
words, perceived in a truly negative way, as the absence of capitalism, "as
its other" [Lefort, 1978:618], Yet, although this is the perspective which
in the Grundrisse allows Marx to argue the historical uniqueness of
capitalism, it is also at the same time innately restrictive. It is,
paradoxically, both a source of bringing forward the discontinuity between
capitalism and precapitalism and of doing this in a language that
partially negates it.

Marx exemplified his materialist standpoint by expressing it in terms

applicable to capitalism and then trying to show the change that was
effected by its advent. It was because of this order of his analysis of

197
>roduction that he had to proceed within the restrictive terms of
capitalist production itself:

What is then profoundly difficult is that Marx analysed

'capitalist production' in and through its own terms, and at the
same time, whether looking to the past or to the future, was in
effect compelled to use many of the same terms for more general
or historically different processes [Williams, 1977:90].

'roof of the historical specificity of capitalism was to be furnished by

he examination of the historically different determinations of
roduction, yet this could be done only by means of the available
nalytical language itself. Thus, having "inherited from his predecessors
notably Adam Smith and David Ricardo- the notion of an autonomous
conomic sphere" [Lichtheim, 1973:4533, i.e. of a distinct, self-subsistent
nd autonomous market-regulated system of production, Marx tried to prove
ts specifically capitalist character by seeking to discover the way in
hich precapitalist 'economies' were determined. The point is, of course,
hat his analysis points exactly at the inability of such a discovery at
his level, for it is only the capitalist organisation of production that
anstitutes an economy. Yet, Marx's enclosure in a language drawn from the
ociety whose relative and transient character he wanted to prove weakened
le force of his argument; "the insistence, in effect, diluted the protest"
Williams, 1977:92].

This inherent and inescapable limitation is all too evident in the

Lfficulties Marx encounters when he attempts to illustrate the
Lstorical character of categories which are specific to capitalism. On
le one hand he is conscious of their restricted applicability:

The categories of bourgeois economics ... are forms of thought

which are socially valid, and therefore objective, for the
relations of production belonging to this historically
determined mode of production, i.e. commodity production
[Capital 1:169; cf., also, Grundrisse: 105].

\ the other hand, however, when he comes to examining non-capitalist modes

* production, he fails to move away from the descriptive categories the
liversal applicability of which he wants to disprove. Consider, for
istance, the extended version of a passage which has been already quoted
irlier on:

198
 the extra-economic origin of property means nothing else than
the historic origin of the bourgeois economy, of the forms of
production which are theoretically or ideally expressed by the
categories of political economy. But the fact that pre-bourgeois
history, ..., also has its own economy .... is at bottom only the
tautology that human life has from time immemorial rested on
production, ..., whose relations w call, precisely, economic
relations [Grundrisse:489; emphasis added].

But the argument is a non sequi tur. For, if the term "economy" is a
category drawn from the relations of capitalist production, then there is
nothing "precise" in designating precapitalist relations of production as
"economic".

It could of course be argued that this is a problem of a mere

terminological imprecision and hence of no consequence, especially when
one takes into account the fact that Marx manages to avoid its
reductionist implications in most of his concrete analyses of
precapitalist forms. This, however, would constitute a superficial and
unwarranted dismissal. For the failure to identify the source of the.
confusion and dispel it is bound to pepretuate the teleological language
of the Base/Superstructure Metaphor and its inherently reductionist
character. The notion that analytical categories which are drawn from the
study of capitalism are aleo applicable to its predecessors implies that
the mode of their articulation in capitalism is itself a static and
uniform relationship. Consequently, any attempt to qualify or disprove
that implication for precapitalist societies has to be made in a
needlessly restrictive analytical language. The examination of
precapitalist modes of production in their historical specificity is thus
severely crippled in advance, because the fixity of the terms employed
(i.e. 'economic' base, 'non-economic' superstructure) reproduces also their
articulation in a formal and uniform manner.

Retaining the terms of the Base/Superstructure Metaphor by assuming

them to be generally applicable results in their transformation from
analytical categories into "substantive descriptions" [Williams, 1977:80].
This leads inevitably to the artificial dismemberment of the unity of
precapitalist relations of production into supposedly separate fields of
activity which are subsequently 'studied' in isolation and are assumed to
have their own 'internal' determinations. The specific reality of

199
precapitalist production is thus forcibly burst "into satellitized,
disjointed categories" [Baudrillard, 1975:87] which are then articulated
into some sort of a union with one another. The essentially teleological
character [30] of such an "atomistic conception" [Kahn et al., 1981:286],
however, does not only defeat the attempt to demonstrate the historical
specificity and uniqueness of capitalism, but also negates, in practice,
the very anti-idealist standpoint of Marx. For the "reification" of
specifically .capitaliste categories into distinct "ontological types"
[Kilne, 1967:425] results in the same idealist phallacy that Marx strived
to disprove: namely, the derivation of the world from the concept, the
determination of reality by the idea. [31]

Various attempts to mitigate the reductionist effects of the

Base/Super3tructure Metaphor have accordingly foundered on the very
impossibility of avoiding reductionism within the atomistic conception
and its misequation of 'production' with 'economy'. The earliest of those
attempts can be traced back to Engels who tried to emphasise that
superstructural spheres, such as 'polities' or 'ideology', should not be
perceived as automatic reflexes of the economic base but should be allowed
a degree of 'relative autonomy'. The reductionist character of the
metaphor, however, reasserted itself in the form of the economy being
declared as still the "determining factor" but in the final analysis
[Engels to Bloch :394]; that is, as the sphere which "ultimately always
asserts itself" [Engels to Borgius:M42]. This gave rise to the view that
the metaphor could still be validly applied to precapitalism if only the
priority which it assigned to the economic base could be removed from the
forefront of analysis, as it were, and re-constituted in the long-run.

[30] Cf. the point by Castoriadis: "The idea that ... the relations of
production, ..., presuppose that in all societies the same
articulation of human activities exists, that technology, law,
politics and religion are always necessarily separated and separable
... is to extrapolate to the totality of history the structuration of
our own society, which is inevitably meaningless outside it" [cited
in Baudrillard, 1975:106].
[31 ] "It is often said that the insistence [in subordinating all human
activities to the norms of capitalism -PL] was 'too materialist', a
'vulgar materialism'. But the truth is that it was never materialist
enough" [Williams, 1977:92].
200
 The idea of the economy as determinant but 'in the last instance' thus
rendered the Base/Superstructure Model a certain verisimilitude of
flexibility which many Marxists who were dissatisfied about its most rigid
overtones were eager to accept. The "ultimately" determinant role of the
economy served, therefore, as a justification for clinging on to. the
atomistic conception. Accordingly, in a whole series of theoretical
elaborations, the "final instance" became something of an "analytic
millenium" [Gouldner, 1980:240], the invocation of which was thought to
prove the viability of the general model even in the face of precapitalist
societies in which an 'economy' could by no stretch of the imagination be
said to exert an immediate determinant influence.

The most prominent example of this is provided by Althusser's brand of

Marxism. According to its interpretation of historical materialism, all
societies are structures composed of a finite number of invariant and
spatially distinct levels (i.e. economic, political, ideological) which can
be universally defined, but which are articulated differently in each
particular society. It is that variation in the form of the combination of
levels that lends different social structures their specific character. It
is further stipulated that in all but capitalist society the non-economic
levels assume a special prominence or "dominance". This, however, is to be
explained by the very instance which they overshadow, for it is invariably
the economy that determines In the last resort which of the non-economic
instances is going to assume a position of dominance. The logic of the
Base/Superstructure Metaphor is thus essentially conserved by means of
the proposition that "the economy is determinant in that it determines
which of the instances of the social structure occupies the dominant
place" [Althusser et al., 1970:224]. [32] Accordingly, the whole problem of
the specificity of societies (and, especially, of the discontinuity

[32] For similar definitions by Althusserians, cf., in the field of

political science, Poulantzas [1973:13-5], and, in anthropology,
Terray [1972:98]. Althusserians frequently invoke that much-maligned
footnote [Capital I:176n] that was quoted earlier on, which seems at
first sight to <jivc credence to the view that a non-economic
instance may be 'dominant' in a precapitalist society (e.g.
Catholicism in the Middle Ages, politics in the ancient world) but
that this is to be explained by the ultimate determination of the
economy.
201
between precapitalism and capitalism which Marx strove to bring out) is
referred to the formal changes in the combination of invariable instances
which permutate and re-allign themselves in different patterns according
to the dictates of the economy. The reductionist character of the original
model is thus transformed but not abolished by the Althusserians, since
the economic continues to be "determinant", only this time

in the same way as a king who reigns but does not rule, until he
decides like Louis XIV (just as the capitalist system does) to
be h-i3 own Prime Minister and to concentrate in his hands the
dual condition of determination in the last instance and
dominant role [Laclau, 1977:76].

However, this ambition to reconcile the atomistic conception that is built

into the Base/Superstructure Metaphor with an anti-reductionist critique
proves self-defeating. On the one hand, Althusser's attempt to bring out
the 'materialist' character of Marx's approach to history leads to a
formalist, almost "algebraical" [Sawer, 1977:229], play of the logical
relationships between invariant concepts, a play which is thought capable
of explaining real historical phenomena. On the other hand, his anti-
reductionist endeavour is from the outset imprisoned within what remains
an essentially reductionist language, that of the Base/Superstructure
Model, which is treated throughout as the sacrosanct and inviolable
principle of historical materialism. Behind the critique of its excesses,
its problematic is conserved intact, in so far as distinct categories
continue to be taken as generally valid and universally applicable. But
the distance from the atomistic conception to the next step is indeed
short; if there is always an 'economy', it has also to play a privileged
role, even if that consists in its decision to relinquish temporarily its
'dominance' to another instance.

Althusser's so-called structuralist interpretation of Marx and

historical materialism has exerted a powerful influence on many theorists,
historians and anthropologists. And although it would not be accurate to
group all of them indiscriminately into a unified school of thought, they
nonetheless share the same self-defeating propensity towards combining
the rejection of outright economic reductionism with an anchylotic
adherence to the Base/Superstructure Model. Disagreements between them
tend, therefore, to assume the form of which non-economic instance is

202
'dominant' in particular precapitalist societies, rather than the
questioning of the premiss on which such differentiations are made. A
somewhat peculiar position is occupied by Godelier, who is frequently
associated with the Althusserians but who has shown the greatest
discomfort of all with the Base/Superstructure Metaphor. Yet, although
defining production as "the totality of those operations aimed at
procuring for a society its material means of existence" [Godelier,
197^:263], he shows the greatest reluctance to part company with the
atomistic conception of levels. In view of the absence of an 'economy' in
precapitalism, the problem for Godelier becomes not the validity of the
metaphor which postulates the existence of such a category, but which
other instance assumes the 'function' of the 'missing' economy. [33] He thus
re-introduces the Base/Superstructure Model in a different form, just when
it might have been assumed that he would have abandoned it:

The distinction between infrastructure and superstructure is

not a distinction between institutions but one between
functions [Godelier, 1977b:l4].

Accordingly, the 'economic' is transformed from a separate sphere into an

equally distinct 'function' which is, however, performed by non-economic
spheres. Kinship, politics or ideology are thus baptised as
infrastructures in so far as they are seen to function as economic
relations. Despite the sophistication of many of his analyses, therefore,
the question arises why Godelier should continue to insist on the
distinction between base and superstructure when this forces him to become
entangled into a meaningless manipulation of concepts which, through
constant qualification and re-definition, are bound to degenerate into
"symbols of little theoretical content" [Laclau, 1977:105].

Probably the most consistent development of the Althusserian version

of Marxism is-to-befound in the work of Hindess and Hirst who carry it out
to its logical extremes. While they share the general Althusserian
position that in precapitalist societies the 'dominant' role is played by
the political or ideological level, Hindess and Hirst maintain that if

[33] Cf., e.g.: "How can we understand both the dominant role of kinship
within primitive society and the determinant role, in the final
analysis, of economics ...?" [Godelier, 1977a:127].
203
this is so then it follows that the idea of an ultimate economic
determination is quite untenable. If the economic is not dominant in a
society, neither can it form its general structuring principle which
determines the specific forms of non-economic instances that obtain in
it. [34] They accordingly reject the possibility of operating within a
problematic of semi-autonomous instances and opt, in effect, for a theory
of their complete autonomy. What is left of the Base/Superstructure iModel
is therefore a pure and undiluted atomistic conception of levels which is
put into practice in their laborious search for distinct, separately
defined and completely autonomous economic, political and ideological
spheres in precapitalist societies. [35] If this position "is truly
standing the pre-capitalist world on its head" [Sawer1977:233]. in that
the latter's unity is forcibly dismembered and shattered, then it should be
seen only as the logical outcome of the atomistic conception which is
built into the Base/Superstructure Metaphor.

In contrast to the Althusserians, a different tradition in Marxism,

while not surrendering to the mechanical and reductionist model of base
and superstructure, has been concerned with emphasising the organic rather
than the atomistic conception of precapitalist reality. The earliest and
most prominent representative of this tradition, G. Lukacs, was careful to
stress the historical limitations of the Base/Superstructure Model and to
warn against the teleological dangers of its universal extension. In
particular, he argued that "historical materialism cannot be applied in
quite the same manner to pre-capitalist social formations as to
capitalism" precisely because, in such formations, "economic life did not
yet possess that independence, that cohesion and immanence" that it
attained only in nineteenth-century capitalism [Lukacs, 1971:238]. To

[34] In their words, "concepts of definite economic relations do not

enable us to generate concepts of a 'corresponding' form of state, of
ideological forms and practices. The conditions of existence of
[economic -PL] relations of production tell us only what effects of
other social relations and practices are necessary to the
persistence of those relations of production. But the relations do
not determine what social relations will secure those effects and
they cannot ensure that they will continue to be secured" [Hindess et
al., 1977:521.
[35] Cf. esp. their treatment of the ancient world in Hindess et al.
[1975:79-91].
204
assume its general applicability is, for Lukacs, to descend to the u3e of
"reifi'ed categories" which, in effect, is to sacrifice the historical
spirit of Marx who was the first to acknowledge "the structural difference
between the age of civilisation and the epochs that preceded it"
[ibid:232], in favour of an econoraism. [36] Such a 'descent* would
constitute a relapse into the very ahistorical falsification of reality
which Marx strived to dispel, since it would be no more than the
universalisation of categories that are themselves products of history.

Since Lukacs, the growing awareness of the historical limits of the

Base/Superstructure Model has steadily eroded many a Marxist's adherence
to it as the cornerstone of historical materialism and has re-oriented the
focus of analysis onto what Marx declared to be his true subject of study,
namely the mode of material production. Thus, some Marxist theorists have
suggested that precapitalist production cannot be defined but through
what has been taken to be its 'superstructure' as the starting-point and
basis. [37] While others have gone so far as to question the need for
retaining the misleading language of the metaphor at all:

we might ask whether it might not be better to dispense with any

variant of the base/superstructure model. Little, in my view,
would be lost. That production constitutes a sine qua non of any
and all social life is sufficient reason for studying its
various modes, and we can perfectly well study them without
having to assume, or even hypothesize, a causal or structural
relation between them and other aspects of social life. We need
only determine to investigate 'the social relations within which

[36] "It is not the primacy of economic motives in historical explanation

that constitutes the , decisive difference between Marxism and
bourgeois thought" [Lukacs, 971:27].
[37] Cf., e.g., Anderson's argument that "pre-capitalist modes of production
cannot be defined except via their political, legal and juridical
superstructures, since these are what determine the type of extra-
economic coercion that specifies them. The precise forms of juridical
dependence, property and sovereignty that characterize a pre
capitalist social formation, far from being merely accessory or
contingent epiphenomena, compose on the contrary the central indices
of the determinate mode of production dominant within it. A
scrupulous and exact taxonomy of these legal and political
configurations is thus a precondition of establishing any
comprehensive typology of pre-capitalist modes of production"
[Anderson, 197J4b:404]. For a similar view, cf. Habermas [1979:154]. In
much of Marxist anthropology the same trend has been gathering
momentum, especially under the impact of extra-Marxist scholarship
(e.g. the substantivist school, etc.).

205
individuala produce', leaving both the nature of those
relations, and their role within the social formation as a
whole, as empirical questions [Sayer, 1977:153].

206
 9. DEVELOPMENT

If precapitalism is indeed not susceptible to the analysis of the

Base/Superstrsucture Model, then the applicability of the developmental
causation that is derived from it should also be questioned. In Part II we
had the opportunity to see how the strength of the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production is severely weakened by Marx himself in his study
of classical antiquity. Thus, for example, the ancient world is not
differentiated from other precapitalist forms by criteria based on the
level of productive growth, nor is its own historical development
attributed to the inherent capacity of the productive forces to develop
and thereby transform the existing relations of production. Rather, the
'foundation of development1 is sought .in the configuration of ancient
production relations which, because of their particular internal
contradictions, generate specific types of growth (e.g. expansionism,
slavery, exchange activities, etc.) which can hardly be explained by means
of the Development Thesis of the 1859 Preface. Similarly, the endogenous
assumptions, which are implicit in the Dialectic of Forces and Relations
of Production, also proved untenable by Marx's treatment of the genesis,
development and dissolution of ancient society. Thus, for example, the
significance of geographic and ecological factors was acknowledged, if
only by default (i.e. by the prominence they assume in Marx's analysis of
the classical antipode, Asiatic society); and the extent of inteisocial
influences on the development of the classical world could not possibly be
underestimated in view of its expansionist drives and their direct
consequences (i.e. extension of slave labour, trade, etc.) as well as the
mode of its disintegration.

In the present chapter we pursue the theme of the discontinuity between

capitalism and its predecessors onto the level of historical development,
with the view of demonstrating why the universal applicability of the
Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production, as laid down in the 1859
Preface, is untenable and inconsistent with Marx's own theoretical
concerns. However, the qualifications with which the similar exercise of

207
 the previous chapter was prefaced are, if anything, even more pertinent
here; this is so because Marx never actually abandoned his general
developmental scheme, as Schmidt [1971:168] rightly reminds us, although he
departed from it repeatedly in his concrete historical studies. Alongside
the latter, then, there are many of his texts which abound with statements
that present the inexorable growth of the productive forces as a trans-
historical constant. In consequence of all these, the exegetical task of
the present chapter becomes__everL,more difficult, fraught as this is with
the risk of arbitrary or onersided interpretations.

At the root of the problem of the determination of historical

development we have again Marx's dual aim of demonstrating the historical
specificity of capitalism, and of putting forward his 'materialist'
standpoint. The form in which the latter finds its general expression,
however, is, as we saw in the previous chapter, abstracted from a
historically limited and theoretically isolated situation, namely
capitalist society. Here, 'material production' tends to be equated with
'economy' and the Base/Superstructure Model is transformed from a
figurative metaphor that describes the particular structure of capitalist
society into a universal analytical device whose value all societies are
called upon to confirm. A very similar process seems to occur with Marx's
(
attempt to theorise the causes of historical change in a uniform manner.
Thus, we find that, in his numerous pronouncements on the general character
of historical development, a universal scheme, namely the Dialectic of
Forces and Relations of Production, is put forward as a sufficiently broad
explanatory device which purports to disclose the uniform source and
mechanism of all social transformations. If, however, the ascription of
causal privilege to the forces of production were shown to be itself
historically limited in that its relevance was restricted only to
capitalism, then its extrapolation from the latter and projection onto the
whole expanse of human history could hardly be said to do justice to Marx's
ambition to bring out the historically specific and quite unique character
of capitalist society.

To try to argue that consistency calls for the severe restriction of

the range of applicability of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production, one must go back to the historical 'determinations' of

208
production which have already been discussed in detail. This is so because
the Dialectic is premissed on the Base/Superstructure Model and cannot
therefore be effectively challenged unless the letter's value for
precapitali3m has been questioned first. It is indeed worth pointing out
the conceptual interdependence of the two in Marx's general theory of
history for it is this that to a large extent helps conceal their historical
limitation. Thus, for example, the assumption that different societies can
be ranked according to the level of productive qrowth achieved by their
'economies' presupposes that the 'economy is always the determinant
instance and, more significantly, that it is distinguishable or separable
as such. The insistence on the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production as the uniform mode of historical causation reproduces, in
other words, the idea of the Base/Superstructure Model as universally
applicable.: Or, to put it more crudely, just as economic reductionism
breeds economic determinism, so does the latter reinforce and perpetuate
the verisimilitude of the former. [1] Once, however, the economic
reductionism of the Base/Superstructure Model is shown to be the result of
the universalisation of capitalist categories and their determinate
connection, then we can set out to investigate what Marx, in a rare
instance of doubting his general theory of history, described as the

dialectic of the concepts productive force (means of

production) and relations of production, a dialectic whose
boundaries are to be determined [Grundrisse:! 09; emphasis
added].

Let us then take Marx at his word and try to find out how the boundaries
of the Dialectic should really be determined. As we have already seen in
Part 1, Marx regarded men as by definition confronting an essentially
hostile nature. The necessity of overcoming the privations forced upon
them by the inclemency of the natural world is what provides-the primary
motivation to produce. Men engage in material production in order to
provide for their needs, their subsistence reqpirements, which are not
readily satisfied by nature, and, consequently, they have to develop their

[1] A similar point is made by Saran [1963:90], who argues that what
Marx's conflation of a "historico-genetic" with a "system"
terminology does is to remove the need for substantiating the latter.
209
productive capacities. So far so good. Men must, in order to survive,
produce, and, in doing 30, develop their forces of production, that is,
their productivity, technology, productive knowledge, etc. But this, in
itself, is no more than a statement of the anti-idealist or materialist
standpoint. It does not necessarily entail that such a productive
development, necessary as it may be, is either sustained or continuous; it
does not, in other words, imply that such a development expresses a
universal and inherent tendency on the part of the productive forces to
grow. It is one thing to draw attention to material production as the
central exigency of the human condition and to recognise that production
is not possible but with some degree of productive development. But it is
quite another to exalt the latter as the imperative of all production or
to reach that point at which the history of production is identified with
the development of the productive forces. To do so is to assume that the
conditions under which men produce and the needs for the satisfaction of
which they produce remain invariably the same throughout history.

Such an assumption, however, proves to be quite erroneous in view of

Marx'3 study of the ancient world, where, as we have seen, the
interrelationship between production and consumption is reflected in the
limits, within which classical development is circumscribed. Its fallacy
^becomes even more transparent now that the schism that divides capitalist
relations of production from all its predecessors has been examined. As we
saw in the previous chapter, the separated conditions of production in
capitalism come together on the basis of exchange and with a view to
production for exchange; labour-power and capital are exchanged as
commodities for the purpose of. producing commodities and of reproducing
themselves as commodities. In precapital ism, on the other hand, where the
historical separation of labour from means of production has not been
effected, production is neither founded on nor realised through exchange;
rather, it takes place with a view to procuring the means of.subsistence
directly, so that the individual producer can carry on being a member of
his commune and thereby continue to have access to the means of production
as his own. Accordingly, production remains "the production of use values,
i.e. the reproduction of the individual within this specific relation to
the commune in which he is its basis" [ibid:485]. In consequence,
productive development cannot but be restricted within the predetermined

210
reproduction needs of the precapitalist relations of production:

In all these [i.e. precapitalist -PL] forms, the reproduction of

presupposed relations ... of the individual to his commune,
together with a specific, objective existence, predetermined for
the individual, of his relations both to the conditions of
labour and to his co-workers, fellow tribesmen etc. - are the
foundation of development, which is therefore from the outset
restricted ... [ibid:487].

By contrast to precapitalism, the establishment of capitalist relations

of production revolutionises these reproduction needs and thereby
transforms the "foundation of development" too. The individual producer,
torn away from the commune, now has a purely "subjective" existence in
production as the holder of labour-power; with his original link to the
means of production severed, he is forced to sell his labour-power in
return for wages, money (that is, the universal medium of exchange) in
order to procure the necessary means of his subsistence and thus be able
to reproduce himself, not any longer as a commune member but as a wage-
labourer, the individual vendor of a particular commodity, labour-power. On
his part, the capitalist purchases labour-power with a view of extracting
surplus labour in the specific form of surplus-value (that is, a value
over and above the cost of labour-power; cf. Capital I:3M2,3QO) which can be
realised for his benefit in the market, so that he can continue to confront
labour in his position as the owner of the means of production. The
separation of labour from the means of production in capitalism means,
therefore, that exchange has replaced the community as the "form of
mediation" [Results: 1063] between the two, with the result that their
respective reproduction requirements (of labour as wage-labour and of the
means of production as capital) have been radically altered. With the
process of production having evolved into an autonomous and market-
regulated sphere of activities, J..e-into an "economy proper, the security
previously afforded by the communal fold has totally disappeared.
Production relations are no longer 'given in advance', as it were, but
derived from the character of production itself; and, accordingly, they can
only be reproduced through it.

The repercussions of this transformation for the development of the

forces of production are profound. The capitalist can hope to continue to

211
occupy the same privileged position in production only by the realisation
of the surplus-value he has extracted from the wage-labourer in a market,
i.e. through the sale of his commodities under the competitive terms of
exchange. He therefore strives to increase his competitiveness in the
market by continuously cheapening his commodities; he can achieve that,
though, only through the corresponding increase of surplus-value he
extorts from the direct producer. It is because capitalism "is a form of
production not bound to a level of needs laid down in advance", then, that
its "immediate purpose ... is to produce as much surplus-value as possible"
[Results: 1037]. Such a "voracious appetite for surplus labour" [Capital
_:344], however, is by no means characteristic of precapitalist relations
of production in which exchange does not yet reign supreme but production
rests on the communal foundation. As Marx observes:

in any economic formation of society where the use-value rather

than the exchange-value of the product predominates, surplus
labour will be restricted by a more or less confined set of
needs, and ... no boundless thirst for surplus labour will arise
from the character of production itself [ibid:345].

It is the foundation of exchange on which capitalist relations of

production rest that generates such an insatiable need for surplus labour.
This can be temporarily satisfied by an increase in the amount of time the
wage-labourer spends in.producing surplus-value for the capitalist; such
increases, however, in what Marx calls "the production of absolute
surplus-value", have a maximum limit that is conditioned by physical and
moral considerations [cf. ibid:3^1ff]. Beyond that limit, the amount of
surplus-value can be increased only by the rise in the productivity of
labour (Marx's "production of relative surplus-value"), so that the amount
of time the wage-labourer spends in the production of the equivalent of
his means of subsistence (i.e. in the production of the value of his wages)
can be shortened, and that part of his time which he devotes to the
production of surplus-value can be correspondingly increased. Capital,
therefore, has "an immanent drive, and a constant tendency, towards
increasing the productivity of labour" [ibid:M36-7] and it is those
constitutive elements that generate an explosion of productive growth; the
productivity of labour rises, with the introduction of new forms of
productive co-operation, the development of technology and the rapid

212
progress and wide application of productive knowledge, to an extent
unknown to and quite impossible under any earlier type of production.

The rupture in the determination of the relations of production brought

about by the dissolution of the original unity of labour and means of
production in capitalism involves, therefore, a qualitative transformation
in the character of productive development too:

production resting on capital and wage labour differs from

other modes of production not merely formally, but equally
presupposes a total revolution and development of material
production [Grundrisse:277].

Characterised as it is by an inherent "tendency towards absolute

development of the productive forces" [Capital 111:249], production in
capitalism is freed from all but purely 'economic' considerations,
complying only to its internal technical imperatives; in short, it has
become "production for production's sake" [Results: 1 037]. To suppose, then,
that the forces of production tend to grow throughout history is,
effectively, to regard that such an autonomous and self-regulated
character as capitalist production alone assumes obtains universally. To
transpose this historically limited developmental trend to non-capitalist
societies is, in other words, to underrate the uniqueness of capitalism
itself. This is why the Development Thesis, i.e. the basic premiss of the
Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production, is a teleological
generalisation which in effect signals a retreat from the central
undertaking of Marx's theoretical project, namely the critique of
classical political economy's claim to universality. For what else does
the predication, in the 1859 Preface, of a growth-tendency on the part of
the forces of production as a "trans-historical constant" [Cutler et al.,
1977:138] signify but the mistaking of an imperative of the capitalist
system for a universal trend? And what else is it part of but the
ideological universalisation of the postulates of the capitalist telos?
The Development Thesis in Marx's general theory of history appears
therefore as a gratuitous compromise with the sort of ahistorical
conceptions which he sought to challenge; its very universality results in
the dilution of the very specificity of capitalist society which Marx
wished to stress, in the underestimation of the very distinctiveness of

213
capitalism which he strove to exemplify.

A recent restatement of the Development Thesis bears witness to its

intrinsically teleological character from a somewhat different angle. G.
Cohen [1978:151-9] has argued, with comparative vigour and consistency,
that the proposition that the productive forces tend to grow throughout
history may be ter\able [2] because of the rationality of human nature. He
thus understands the Development Thesis [3] as predicating "a perenniale
tendency to productive progress, arising out of rationality and
intelligence in the context of the inclemency of nature" [ibid:155]. In
other words, productive forces have a tendency to grow because human
nature is rational and therefore inclined towards exploiting the
opportunity to expand them by making increasingly efficient use of them.
But what constitutes 'efficiency' in such a general context? Is there such
a thing as a universal standard of efficient use of the productive forces
that can be applied to all societies? Or does the notion make sense, as
Gray [1982:84] observes in his critique of Cohen, "only when, as in
problems of engineering, there is agre'ement on objectives"? It seems, then,
that to identify productive rationality with the drive towards efficiency,
as Cohen does, is to implicitly presuppose a fixed and unalterable goal
for all production. And, inversely, it is only by assuming that production-
is always aimed at the maximisation of productivity that such a conception
of rationality as a central and invariant element in human nature can be
sustained. This is why Cohen's attempt to ground the Development Thesis on
the 'rational' proclivities of human nature can proceed only with "an
ahistorical, unMarxian and almost Benthamite conception of rationality"
[ibid:86] into which elements of the specifically capitalist preoccupation
with productive progress are latently inserted.

It is only in capitalism that "production appears as the aim of mankind

and wealth as the aim of production" [Grundrisse:488], because of the

[2] Cf. his early qualification that, in his opinion, the Development
Thesi3 is "not conclusive, but it may have some substance" [Cohen,
1973:151].
[3] And let it be remembered that the analytical distinction between a
Development and a Primacy Thesis in the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production is his.
214
radical "transmutation" [Rsulte: 1 024] of production that is caused by the
separation of labour from the means of production. The latter now emerge
as "a world of themselves, quite independent of and divorced from the
individuals, alongside the individuals" [German Ideology.74] and their
development assumes an immanent character and therefore becomes the
propelling force of social change. [4] The notion of 'forces of production'
as capable of independent growth is, then, specific to the capitalist mode
of production alone and quite inapplicable outside it. Technological
inventions, scientific knowledge, etc. cannot be regarded as 'forces of
production' in that sense, unless they are seen in the context of
capitalist relations of production, unless, in other words, they are
utilised by wage-labour for the production of exchange-values. Marx
himself reminds us, in this respect, that two of the most important
technological elements at the initial stages of capitalism, namely the
clock and the mill, were actually inherited from antiquity [cf. Marx to
Engels, January 28, 1863:129]; yet they were not put to use for the
production of commodities by the ancients nor did they generate further
productive advances. A machine does not and cannot constitute a 'force of
production' in the sense of the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production, unless it is considered in its role in the capitalist mode of
production; in itself, a machine

is no more an economic category than the ox which draws the

plough. The contemporary use of machines is one of the relations
of our' present economic system, but the way in which machinery
is utilised is totally distinct from the machinery itself [Marx '
to Annenkov:33]. [5]

Technology, productively applicable knowledge, etc. cannot really be said

to have the attributes accorded to them by the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production unless they are conceived in the context of the
capitalist mode of production. Abstracted from it, they are transformed

[4] For the conceptual dependence of the Primacy Thesis on the

Development Thesis within the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production, cf. Ch. 1.
[5] Cf. also: "A cotton-spinning jenny is a machine for spinning cotton.
It becomes capital only in certain relations. Torn from these
relationships it is no more capital than gold in itself is money or
sugar the price of sugar" [Wage Labour and Capital:79].
215
into universal categories invested with transcendental properties
whereas they actually assume these under the particular conditions of
capitalist relations alone. It is for this reason that the suggestion of
Marx's general theory of history, namely that different modes of
production can be ranked or accounted for in terms of their respective
levels of development of the forces of production, comes into question. It
is certainly far from obvious that the precapitalist systems which Marx
himself identifies in the Grundrisse-can-fee-accounted for by differences
between their respective productive forces. And there does not exist much
evidence in his study of these precapitalist modes of production that can
support his general contention that:

Technology reveals the active relation of man to nature, the

direct process of the production of his life, and thereby it
also lays bare the process of the "production of the social
relations of his life ... [Capital I:493n].

The inapplicability of such a general criterion based on the level of

productive growth does not mean of course that the forces of production do
not develop in precapitalist societies. But, in view of Marx's historical
analyses, this development is of quite a different order from the one
prescribed by the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production. This,
however, does not .necessarily constitute a negation of Marx's central
thesis which consists in drawing attention to the process of material
production; it is merely the repudiation, in practice, of the general
identification (and, we should also add, compromise) of the materialist
stance with economic determinism. Productive advances do occur in
precapitalist societies since production remains the fundamental and
constituting condition of human existence. [6] But such developments are

[6] Indeed, a certain development of the productive forces in

precapitalism is the precondition (but not necessarily the cause -
cf., also, Appendix) for the rise of antagonistic relations of
production. For, as Marx explains: "If the worker needs to use all his
time to produce the necessary means of subsistence for himself and
his family, he has no time left in which to perform unpaid labour for
other people. Unless labour has attained a certain level of
productivity, the worker will have no such free time at his disposal,
and without superfluous time there can be no surplus labour, hence no
capitalists, as also no slave-owners, no feudal barons, in a words no
class of large-scale landed proprietors" [Capital 1:6^6-73.
216
circumscribed within the limits set down in advance by precapitalist
relations of production, by relations, that is, which are founded on the
mediating role of the community in all its historical variations.
Productive growth has not as yet assumed that independence and immanence
which is characteristic of capitalism. Thus, as we saw in Marx's analysis
of the classical world, whatever increase in the scale of production, in
productivity, etc. did take place, was not the result of the inherent
tendency of the forces of production to grow but, on the contrary, tended
to follow upon developments which were quite independent of it. [7] The
emergence of large, slave-manned productive enterprises in both
agriculture and manufacture, for instance, was the product of the lateral
expansion of the ancient world, the result of the search for new lands, of
colonial activities, of imperialism, and of the subsequent enslavement of
large numbers of alien populations. Nor did the problems generated by such
productive growth as it took place cause the radical overthrow of the
classical form of social organisation; these tended, rather, to be absorbed
by the existing framework of production relations with no dramatic
consequences for the whole social system.

The Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production is effectively

abandoned by Marx in his treatment of the ancient world because the
conditions under which production takes place differ so radically from
those that obtain in capitalism. The existence of the polis communality, in
other words, sees to it that neither citizen nor slave are compelled by the
existing relations of production to the pursuit of constantly expanding
productive activities. The absence of a community in capitalism, on the
other hand, brings forward the necessity for the continuous development of
the forces of production. The capitalist is, as we saw earlier, forced
towards the incessant increase of the productivity of labour and this
triggers off an explosion of productive growth; "the bourgeoisie", as-Marx-
emphasises, "cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the
instruments of production" [Communist Manifesto:383. While the wage-

[7] This, as Habermas [1979:1*16] observes, is characteristic of all

precapital ism: "the great endogenous, evolutionary advances that led
to the first civilizations or to the rise of European capitalism were
not conditioned but followed by significant development of
productive forces."
217
labourer, on his part, is far more receptive to such a continuous
advancement than any of the direct producers in precapitalism. Production
itself becomes autonomous in capitalism, it is wrest from its original
unity with the community, and, as such, as an economy proper, it obeys its
own internal technical requirements; productive growth becomes,
consequently, the imperative of production and the propelling mechanism of
development, something which was quite impossible in precapitalist
societies.--The^Tstter are all forms in which the community still
"presupposes its subjects in a specific objective unity with their
conditions of production" and this is why they "necessarily correspond to
a development of the forces of production which is only limited, and
indeed limited in principle" [Grundrisse:496].

It is only, with the dissolution of the original unity of labour and

means of production in capitalism that history is propelled forward by
productive growth and the "boundaries" of the Dialectic of Forces and
Relations of Production [cf. Grundrissen 09, supra] are established. In
precapitalism, the communal foundation of the relations of production is
incompatible with such an historical causation; but once the conditions of
production are posited as separate, as wage-labour and capital, historical
development becomes identified with the development of productive forces.
It is, in other words, only when relations of production are "posited by
society", and not any longer "determined by nature" [ibid:276] - i.e. not
any longer founded on the original and natural communal mediation of
labour and means of production - that history becomes what the Dialectic
of Forces and Relations of Production assumes it to be all along: namely,
the continuous growth of productive forces which renders relations of
production obsolete and transforms them. As for precapitalist development,
this, founded as it is on the naturally arisen community and not as yet on
capitalist society, [8] is not governed by the Dialectic nor for that
matter does it manage to supersede its communal basis but only to modify

[8] This distinction betwen what is naturally arisen (i.e. all

precapitalist variations of communality) and what has evolved out of
its dissolution (i.e. capitalist society) may account, as Schmidt
[1971:176] points out, for Marx's reluctance to employ the term
'society' in order to describe pre-bourgeois forms, for it was only
bourgeois society that counted for him as society proper, society par
excellence.
218
its particular disposition.

This as we saw in detail in the case of classical antiquity, leaves its

imprint on the character of the class struggle. For the antagonism between
classes in precapi tal ism appears to hold back, rather than promote,
progress. Far from being the agent of change towards a new social order as
is the case in capitalism, the class struggle has a distinctly restorative
character, as we witnessed in both cases of the citizen/slave antithesis
and the divisions within the citizenry. With the communal presupposition
of production as its basis, precapitalism entails that the class position
of the individual is determined by the kind of relationship the individual
manages to maintain vis-a-vis the commune. When this relationship is upset
(as in the poor citizen's case) or forcibly abolished (as in the case of
the slave), the main class grievance of the exploited classes is directed
towards the elimination of the specific basis of exploitation which, in
precapitalism, is the distance that separates the immediate producer from
commune membership and the privileges this .affords. Class conflict
accordingly assumes the form of a struggle towards the reconstitution or
attainment of the full communal basis of production. Thus, citizens in
antiquity strive for their restitution as full members of the political
commune, while slaves (when engaged in overt conflict and not merely
resisting passively in the process of production) fight for manumission
and inclusion in the commune. By contrast, the absence of a commune as the
foundation of production in capitalism alters radically the character of
the class struggle too. The extent and the privileges of the commune are no
longer at the centre of the contradiction between the classes; the
exploited section of the population can consequently only look forward to
and strive for the overthrow rather than the maintenance and full
restoration of the existing relations of 'production. In contradistinction
to the characteristically revolutionary nature oj^the class struggle in
capitalism, though, the class antagonism in precapitalism, as the case of
classical antiquity indicates, necessarily assumes the form of rebellions
aiming at the preservation of existing relations of production or at the
restoration of rights which derive only from such relations and which have
been lost.

219
 It is because of this essential discontinuity in terms of development
that two distinct images of history can be discerned in the Grundrisse, as
Lefort [1978:616] rightly points out; one which is "repetitive" in that in
it the same fundamental structure is reproduced in variant forms over and
over again; [9] and another which is "evolutionary" in the sense of it
being governed by the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production
which establishes "an entirely new rhythm of history, an accelerated
history" [ibid]. It is almost needless to add, of course, that the
distinction between these two images of history, one "repetitive", the
other "evolutionary", "ends up coinciding with the distinction between
precapitalism and capitalism" [ibid:628]. As Marx himself acknowledges:

Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupted

disturbance of all. social conditions, everlasting uncertainty
and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier
ones [Communist Manifesto:38]. [10]

If, instead of being the universal law of development as Marx's general

theory of history predicates, the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of
Production emerges as a "historically limited law" [Lobkowicz, 1978:121]
with peculiar reference to capitalism, then its endogenous implications
-should also be regarded as characteristic of capitalism alone. This
qualitative difference between precapitalist and capitalist development
could hardly be overemphasised. It is certainly borne out in Marx's study
of classical development where, as we have seen in Part II, a whole array
of exogenous factors are taken into consideration. In the multilinear
scheme, for instance, the modification of the primitive community into a
number of variants is referred to the diversity of natural conditions [cf.
Grundrisse:472,486 and Capital 1:472,648-9 3. And the importance of
geographical determinations becomes paramount in the distinction between

[9] Cf., also: "The forms of socialisation which preceded capitalist

production do admittedly produce and reproduce themselves over time
and to that extent have a history ... However, they are not history
because the subjective and objective conditions of their existence
do not emerge from the natural whole and become the products of human
history" [Schmidt, 1971:236].
[10] Cf., also: "Modern industry never views or treats the existing form of
a production as the definitive one. Its technical basis is therefore
revolutionary, whereas all earlier modes of production were
essentially conservative" [Capital 1:6173.
220
the Asiatic and classical communities and their respective developmental
routes. On the one hand, the extensiveness of territory in Asia is seen as
the major cause of the dispersal of population which, in turn, accounts for
the self-sufficiency and static reproduction of the Oriental commune. The
different natural conditions of the West, on the other hand, give rise to
the polis communality. This latter disposition of the original commune,
however, widens the possibilities of further transformation, since in it
the commune member is such as a private proprietor and can therefore also
"lose" his property (and, consequently, his membership claims), a loss
which is hardly possible in the Oriental form [cf. ibid:494]. The
propinquity of the environment and the particular relations of production
in antiquity provide wider scope for inter-social contact and interchange
with members of other communities; the demographic expansion of the polis
finds vent in migration and war and generates a process of "intermixture
and antithesis" [ibid:4903 which modifies further the shape of the
community. Imperialism and the growth of commercial and usurious practices
erode further the basis of the ancient relations of production and bring
about the pauperisation of the majority of the citizen population and the
emergence of a slave mode of production. The importance of extraneous
faetors in the history of classical antiquity is finally confirmed by the
mode of its disintegration and the subsequent rise of feudalism which is a
product, not of endogenous development, but of synthesis.

While the prominent role of geography and of inter-social contact in

the development of the ancient world is recognised in Marx's concrete
studies, the image of historical development that is presented in the 1859
Preface remains intensely endogenous. This is again a product of the
teleological universalisation of the characteristics of capitalism. The
silence in Marx's general theory of history over the significance both of
geographical factors in the case of precapitalism is the result of
mistaking th^ro'rnTf development peculiar to capitalism as universal. For
it is only with capitalism's advent that development assumes a distinctly
endogenous character, and this in two senses.

Firstly, with regard to geography, it is by now clear that the

precapitalist forms of production Marx identifies arise under the more or
less direct impress of natural conditions. Furthermore, whatever

221
productive advances do take place in them are limited in principle, with
the result that "nature's limits" do indeed "recede" [cf. Capital 1:6501
but cannot be entirely superseded. [11] With capitalism, however, the
mastery over nature takes on a new quality; with the technological
advances that its inherent tendency towards constant productive growth
brings about, capitalism increasingly restricts the scope for external
interference by the natural environment. Now, and "for the first time", as
Marx puts it, "nature becomes purely an object for humankind, purely a
matter of utility"; it "ceases to be recognized as a power for itself"
CGrundrisse:Ml 0]. This diminution of the importance of natural conditions,
"pari passu with the development of man's productive forces" [Sawer,
1977:108], brings forward a new kind of development, which is no longer
circumscribed by natural constraints.

Secondly, and with regard to the importance of inter-social influences,

the situation is again radically reversed in capitalism. The latter is, for
Marx, the first form of social organisation that is not only resistant to
the influence of other contemporaneous forms of society but tends also to
exert a one-sided transformative impact upon them. On the one hand, once it
becomes firmly established in a particular society, the capitalist mode of
production is carried by its own momentum towards its reproduction "on a
steadily increasing (expanding) scale" [Results:1059; cf., also, Capital
_:871] and the envelopment of th'at society under its complete domination.
On the other hand, these expansive tendencies are also carried onto a
global level with non-capitalist societies being gradually drawn into the
net of capitalist production. Such a one-sided creation of a "world
history" [German Ideology:6l ], however, could not have been possible but
with the revolutionary and expansive requirements of capitalist
development:

The need of a constantly expanding market for its products

chases the bourgeoisie over the whole surface of the globe. It
must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere, establish connexions
everywhere ... [It -PL] draws all, even the most barbarian,

[11] "It is true that each specific [precapitalist -PL] form ... extends
its material foundations. But the parallel 'retreat of ' nature's
barriers' remains merely quantitative, and human activity a merely
natural function entangled in nature" [Schmidt, 1971:169].
222
 nations into civilisation ... It compels all nations, on pain of
extinction, to adopt the' bourgeois mode of production; it
compels them to introduce what it calls civilisation into their
midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it
creates a world after its own image [Communist Manifesto;38-
9]. [12]

This qualitatively new element in human history is best exemplified in

Marx's treatment of the relationship between, on the one hand, the all-
absorbing capitalist society and, on the other, the stagnant Asiatic
societies which it encounters in its ever-expanding drive. Writing about
India, Marx argues that, since Asiatic society is incapable of progressing
independently, it shall have to be forcibly brought forward by the
'transplantation1, as it were, of European capitalistic organisation in the
Orient. Thus, the corollary of the original notion of the unchangeability
of Asia is the idea that change is only possible through the introduction
of dynamic elements of Western capitalism (e.g. private property in land,
railway system, modernised army and communications, etc., in the case of
India) and that the necessity for such extraneous transformation
justifies, to a large extent, the brutality which unavoidably accompanies
it. [13] Now, it is true that such a posture is fraught with its own
peculiar difficulties. For one, and quite apart from the ethical questions
it poses, it casts a shadow on the very multilinearity of Marx's typology,
since the latter may ultimately be taken to represent only "an
intermediatery multilinearism culminating in unilinearism", to paraphrase
Gouldner ['\9&0:31*'5l Because of this, it is also the most palpable

[12] Cf., also: "The development of the product into a commodity is

fundamental to capitalist production and this is intrinsically bound
up with the expansion of the market ..." [Theories of Surplus-Value
11:423]
[13] "England, it is true, in causing a social revolution in Hindustan was
attracted only by the vilest interests, and was stupid in her manner
of enforcing them. But that is not the question. The question is, can
mankind fulfil its destiny without a fundamental revolution in the
social state of Asia? If not, whatever may have been the crimes of
England she was the unconscious tool of history in bringing about
that revolution" [The British Rule in India:306-7]. Cf., also:
"England has to fulfil a double mission in India: one destructive, the
other regenerating - the annihilation of old Asiatic society, and the
laying of the material foundations of Western society in Asia" [The
Future Results of the British Rule in India:320].

223
manifestation of the strong europocentric element in Marx's thought, [14]
al tough a full understanding of his ideas on contemporary Asia has also to
take into account his particular political and strategic concerns. [15]
Yet, what remains the case is that it is only with capitalism that such a
mode of transformation is thought of as extensively possible, if not
inevitable. In other words, it is only with the advent of capitalist
society and its peculiar expansive tendencies that human history assumes a
truly global character. The narrow sense in which Marx's use of the ^famous
dictum "de te fabula narratur" [Capital I;90j is usually understood is
thereby decisevely broadened; for the epigram does not merely refer to the
end-state of European history alone but also to the ultimate destiny of
the non-European part of humanity which will itself have to come, sooner
or later, under the capitalist spell. Despite its problematic nature,
therefore, such an idea serves co underline the radical discontinuity that
capitalism is thought to establish in history, a notion which runs through
most of Marx's writings.

In conclusion, it is clear that to suppose, as the 1859 Preface does,

that all development proceeds in a manner which is independent of the
peculiarities of the geographical and historical milieu is to project the

[14] The necessity of capitalist expansionism as the catalyst of world

history was not, of course, an idea exclusively confined to Marx. For,
as Turner [1978:14] rightly points out, "Marx's view of the impact of
the capitalist mode of production on colonial society as it is
expressed in his articles on the New York Daily Tribune is often not
very far removed from conventional 'bourgeois' sociology"; nor, for
that matter, was his overall approach to Indian society very far
removed from the views of the English Utilitarians of the time [cf.
ibid:15]. Also, it should not be forgotten that Hegel too had been a
champion of the 'europanistion' of Asia; he thought, for example,
that it was "the necessary fate of Asiatic Empires to be subjugated
by Europeans" [Hegel, 1944:149], since no other way in which Asia
could rejoin the progressive march of history could be envisaged.
[15] As M. Molnar points out: "Any discussion of Marx on the AMP which,
except for vague allusions, fails to take account of the political
stand taken by Marx and Engels when confronting the colonial
expansion f the European powers, is no more than an intellectual
trap or, at most, a form of abstract speculation without any great
interest ..." Unfortunately, though, most commentators "have done very
little to relate Marx's theoretical theses to his political theses on
the consequences of colonial domination and the future prospects of
non-European countries in general" [cited in Bailey, 1981:94], For
similar programmatic correlations, see, also, Carrrere d'Encausse et
al. [1969:7] and Turner [1978:15-6].
224

*m*iMv*ei>r, -!iarwp!fi*^
conceptualisation of change assumes a quite novel dimension. The mode of
production dominant in a particular (i.e. spatially and temporally
specific) social formation provides the framework for development in the
sense that it determines its character and sets the limits within which
historical change takes place. But the actual change or transformation of
such a social formation may also be the outcome of a combination of
factors at each particular moment in time, although their impact is
condrt^oned and primarily defined by .thedominant mode of production. The
effects of co-existing modes [17] as well as of inter-social or even
extra-social (e.g. geography) factors towards change cannot therefore be
ruled out. If the present deduction is at all plausible, then to maintain
an endogenous posture appears as tantamount to 'reifying' the concept of
mode of production, i.e. to regarding it as ontologically irreducible, as
if-. Lt .were not designed to characterisea society but to actually
constitute it.

This deductive argument, when taken to the level of the discontinuity

in history which we have been discussing, helps to clarify further the
peculiarity of capitalist societies, i.e. of social formations that are
dominated by the capitalist mode of production. The discontinuity between
capitalism and precapitalism in this context resists of two novel
characteristics that the capitalist mode renders the social formations
which it comes to characterise. First, the fact that the capitalist mode of
production exemplifies the tendency towards the complete and total
subjugation of the social formations in which it becomes established,
leaving no room for other co-existing modes. And, second, the fact that
production based on the capitalist mode furnishes the framework for"an
unprecedented development of the powers necessary for the mastery of the
environment and for the outward expansion of that mode to other societies.
It is in these two respects that the development of capitalist societies
can be said to approximate an endogenous pattern, and this, with regard
both to their physical and their inter-social environment.

[17] An idea which is explored in some detail by Asad et al. [1976:501-5].

226
 APPENDIX

ENGELS AND THE EMERGENCE OF THE ANCIENT WORLD

The Origin provides the fullest and most systematic account by either
Marx or Engels on the emergence of antiquity. It is, to a very large part, a
reproduction of Morgan's scheme of evolution with Morgan's main ideas and
methodology retained almost intact. The work was seen by Engels as "the
fulfillment of a bequest" [op.cit.:H49]; published in 1884, one year after
Marx's death, it relies heavily on Marx's excerpts from and critical notes
on Ancient Society, with whole passages from Marx's notebooks incorporated
into it. The degree of Engels's fidelity to Marx's spirit, though, remains
an open question to this day, chiefly because there is no conclusive way of
determining what that 'spirit' actually was. Engels's book is, naturally,
immeasurably more systematic - and articulate than Marx's fragmented,
disorganised and, at times, incomprehensible notekeeping. As such, it is
also much more explicit and confident in its generalisations and
reductions. All these make it much easier for a series of flaws to. be
identified in the Origin than any critical discussion of Marx's ideas on
such insufficient evidence could possibly hope for. This has not deterred
many commentators from suggesting that it is Engels who carries the sole
blame for the adoption of Morgan's system by Marxism, with all the
unilinearist and determinist consequences that such a move entailed. [1]
But such a suggestion is not only of questionable merit, since it
effectively absolves Marx of all the theoretical shortcomings surfacing
in Engels's work; it is also hardly tenable, in view of Engels's bona fide
reliance on Marx's anthropological notes. The rejection of this posture
does not, of course, leave the relation of the Origin to Marx's excerpts

[1] Cf., e.g., Sawer [1977:189] who argues that Engels was "responsible for
the adoption into Marxist theory of Morgan's anthropological system.
Morgan's system minimised the significance of external influences on
the internal development of human societies, and hence reinforced the
notion that social development progressed through a given sequence
of necessary stages up to the socialist one, according to certain
iron laws of its own."
227
 APPENDIX

.. f;v".

ENGELS ON THE EMERGENCE OF THE ANCIENT WORLD

/
any the less problematic. This unresolved (and probably unresolvable)
difficulty is mirrorred in the ambivalent stance of L. Krder, the scholar
engaged in the minute study and publication of Marx's excerpts and one of
the foremost authorities on Marx's anthropological views. On the one hand,
Krder seems to detect Engels's hand in 'smoothing out', as it were,
discrepancies between Morgan and Marx and in producing a more uncritical
assimilation of Morgan's view; he thus comments that "Engels established
his own relation to the work of Morgan on the one side and to that of Marx
on the other" [Krder, 1972:77]. [2] On the other hand, however, Krder is
careful to point to the largely arbitrary determining of Marx's own
relation to Morgan, since Marx's "conceptions relative to Morgan are to be
interpreted ex silentio, by his choice of material, etc" [ibid:34-53.

The discussion that follows takes as its main point of departure

Engels's Origin and concentrates, initially, on some of the logical flaws
in his account of the development of primitive society by developing some
of the logical objections that can be directed against the causal
relationships in Engels's analysis of the entry of humanity into
civilisation. The discussion then proceeds onto focusing on the question
of whether Engels's use of the Greek and Roman cases for the explication of
his arguments is consonant with the general principles which he designates
as governing historical development; of whether, in other words, his choice
of Greece and Rome as points f reference proves cogent with the articles
of his own faith.

The first issue that arises from the acount of primitive development in
the Origin can be described as the problem of its 'double mode of
causation'. This has, broadly, as follows. Engels's recognition, in the
post-Morgan period, of the classless and stateless character of the
primitive stage meant acceptance of the idea that gentile society was free
of internal social divisions and antagonisms. This, however, created a
serious theoretical problem to the extent that Engels's theoretical
framework for the analysis of historical development depended on the

[2] Cf., also, Carver [1983:145] who maintains that Engels "abandoned much
of Marx's scepticism about Morgan's work and turned his inquiries
into 'conclusions' ..."
228
existence of contradictions between the growth of productive forces and
antagonistic relations of production. The postulation, though, of a pre-
class epoch effectively meant that Engels had no "purely Marxist way"
[Bloch, 1 983:54] by which to explain change in primitive society.

This problem was originally absent in earlier Marxian and Engelsian

references to early human history, for the universality of class divisions
had been asserted even in relation to the most distant past. Thus, for
example, the Communist Manifesto proclaims "the history of all hitherto
existing society" to have been "the history of class struggles"
[op.cit.:35]; the German Ideology speaks of the slavery which is "latent in
the family" at the tribal stage [op.cit.:2l ]; and, even as late as 1876-8,
Engels echoes the Communist Manifesto in his Anti-Dvihring by arguing that
"all past history was the history of class struggles" [op.cit.:37]. [3] In
the Origin, however, the acknowledgment of a classless stage renders such
an unqualified stance inconsistent with the new-fangled enlargement of
the scope of analysis. The first indication of the exemption of primitive
society from the original scheme is given in 1882, in a letter to Marx,
where Engels makes a passing reference to "independently evolving kinship
structures" [cited in Sawer, 1977:215]. An analogous attempt at the
modification of the orthodox causality .recurs in the Preface to the first
edition of the Origin, where the original analytical framework is
implicitly enlarged:

According to the materialistic conception, the determining

factor in history is, in the last resort, the production and
reproduction of immediate life. But this itself is of a twofold
character. On the one hand, the production of the means of
subsistence, of food, clothing and shelter and the tools
requisite therefore; and on the other, the production of human
beings themselves, the propagation of the species [op.cit.:il^9;
emphasis added].

[3] In the very first German edition [1882] of Socialism: Utopian and
Sclentific:4l0, Engels qualified this statement in the following way:
"all past history, with the exception of its primitive stages, was the
history of class struggles ..." The Russian publication of the Anti-
Duhring which is used here adds this later qualification in the
original text.
229
 This newly-added variable to the materialist conception is nowhere
manifested better (nor, for that matter, is the disparity with the
orthodoxy of the 1859 Preface anywhere more obvious) than in Engels's
account of the end of polygamy within the gens and of the passage to the
pairing family [cf. Origin:479-85]. The significance of this
transformation for the evolutionary pattern of the Origin could hardly be
overestimated because the transition is seen as the first of a sequence of
developments in the process leading to the eventual dissolution of the
gens. More specifically, the pairing family is regarded as the precursor of
formalised monogamy and of the subsequent change from mother right
(matriliny) to father right (patriliny) which pave the way for the
dissolution of the basis of the gentile constitution. It appears during
the lower stage of Barbarism and, at first, co-exists fairly harmoniously
with the communality because, as long as it is not formally instituted and
firmly established, it does not pose a serious threat to the gentile
constitution. But, with the productive advances brought about by the
domestication of animals [cf. op.cit.:485], the conditions of communal
property are undermined, so that the originally harmless pairing family
provides the basis for the momentous transition to monogamy and, thereby,
eventually to patrilinearity and the decomposition of gentile society Cef.
op.cit.:487]. [4] Overall, then, the appearance of the pairing family can be
seen as initiating the process of dissolution of the primitive
communality, opening up the way, as it were, for the process of the
development of productive forces to introduce a whole chain of non-gentile
institutions: monogamy, the nuclear family, private property, change in the
rule of descent and the pattern of inheritance, [5] the subordination of
women, the growth of class antagonisms, and, ultimately, the state.

But what of the pairing family itself? Why does it arise in the first
place? It is at this juncture that Engels's account becomes dissociated
from and irrelevant to the economic reductionism of the

[U] "Monogamy was a great historical advance, but at the same time it
inaugurated, ..., that epoch, lasting until today, in which every
advance is likewise a relative regression, in which the well-being
and development of the one group are attained by the misery and
repression of the other" [Origln:M95].
[5] Engels follows on this point the general nineteenth-century
assumption which saw matriliny as always antedating patriliny.
230
Base/Superstructure Model and the productive determinism of the Dialectic
of Forces and Relation of Production. For, although the productive forces
are assumed to be developing, the reasons behind the end of the original
promiscuity are actually sought in a peculiar mixture of Darwinian and,
one may even suggest, moralistic argumentation. The first segmentation of
groups is explained by reference to the impulse-driven prohibition of
incest; the pairing family, Engels suggests echoing Bachofen's Das
Mutterrecht and with a token mention of the "development of the economic
conditions of life", is brought about by the women's sense of impropriety
of incest and by their wish for a little permanence in their domestic
arrangements. The "old traditional sexual relations" appear more and more
"degrading and oppressive" to the women, who come to long "for the right to
chastity, to temporary or permanent marriage with one man only, as a
deliverance" [op.cit.:484-5]. The pairing family thus comes into being; and,
with it, "natural selection" completes "its work by constantly reducing
the circle of community marriage" [op.cit.:*l85].

Hence the double mode of causation. The very acceptance of a classless

society automatically exempts it from the orthodox analytical framework
and necessitates the recourse to 'extra-Marxist', so to speak, arguments. As
H. Cunow has observed:

Even Engels thought that, for the earliest periods, he had to

limit substantially the universal validity of the materialist
conception of history. For, ..., he places an equally determinant
factor, next to the production of means of livelihood, "the
production of humans, the propagation of the species", which he
then identifies with family organisation [cited in Bodemann,
1980:80].

With the entry to civilisation, the awkward problems generated by the

acceptance of classless society disappear and Engels confidently returns
to orthodoxy by subordinating the family system too under the economic
determinism of the materialist conception of history. As Bodemann
[1980:81] remarks:

Engels attributed independent causality to the reproduction of

life. This idea permeates Origin where procreative reproduction
is a determining factor of history in the last resort, with
direct bearing on the structure and constitution of kinship and
family. 3y means of Naturwchs i gke i t primitive society is

231
 exempted from the materialist conception of history. Only with
the decomposition of the system of the 'gens' is "the family
system fully dominated by the property system". [6]

It is this overlapping use of two modes of argument as far as primitive

society is concerned that brings us to a second problem. This concerns
Engels's emphasis on the growth of productive forces which, in conjunction
with the evolution of the family and kinship systems, is seen as the cause
for the decline of the old ancestral constitution and the eventual
inauguration of the era of class society. Let it be remembered that the
causal association of levels of productive advance (as represented by
technological innovations) and primitive stages of development is
imported, wholesale, into the Origin from Morgan's Ancient Society. Yet the
reproduction of this causal link by Engel3 with regard to primitive
society is not without repercussions for his own 'Marxist' scheme in the
Origin. The problem that arises, in other words, is the extent to which the
principles of Marx's general theory of history, which Engels is supposed to
apply, actually provide for the incorporation of Morgan's seemingly
analogous determinist theses.

Engels offers us a compendium of the stages in primitive development,

and of their respective technological features, as they were defined by
Morgan and accepted-by himself:

we can generalise Morgan's periodisation as follows: Savagery -

the period in which the appropriation of natural products, ready
for use, predominated; the things produced by man were, in the
main, instruments that facilitated this appropriation. Barbarism
- the period in which knowledge of cattle breeding and land
cultivation was acquired, in which methods of increasing the
productivity of nature through human activity were learnt.
Civilisation - the period in which knowledge of the further
working up of natural products, of industry proper, and of art
was acquired [Origin:M65].

[6] The entry into Civilisation signifies the emergence of a new society
"in which the family system is entirely dominated by the property
system, and in which the class antagonisms and class struggles, which
make up the content of all hitherto written history, now freely
develop" [Originr^O]. A similar sign of the 'return to orthodoxy' is
provided later on, when Engels states that, with the advent of
Civilisation, "Marx's Capital willbe o.s viccessaru as Morgan's book"
J
[lbid:566].
2
The emphasis on levels of technology which Engels borrows from Morgan in
his study of primitive society is indeed central to the developmental
scheme of the Origin; it is by these technological advances that the
erosion of the old gentile constitution is explained. The erosion begins
in the middle stage of Barbarism; animal domestication and horticulture
bring about the possibility of inter-tribal exchange, the emergence of
movable private property, exploitation, the formalisation of
patrilinearity, etc. And the process is concluded in the upper stage of
Barbarism; with the productive use of iron ore smelting, manufacture is
separated form agriculture, and this development signals the
rgularisation of exchange practices, the intensification in the use of
slaves, the completion of the transition to private ownership and the
entry into the era of internal class antagonisms. This process, actuated as
it is by advancing levels of technology, brings humanity "to the threshold
of civilisation"'[ibid:572] by the institution of class society and the
rise of the state thereof. All developments germane to the emergence of
class society appear, therefore, as indissolubly linked with the growth of - -
the forces of production.

Such a sequence, however, seems to contain a fundamental flaw which is

not unconnected with the already raised issue of the double mode of
causation of the Origin. The heart of the problem lies in the fact that the
putative growth of the productive forces up to the beginnings of
Civilisation is supposed to be taking place in primitive society where
relations of production are communistic in character, i.e. within a social
context from which social divisions and antagonisms are by definition
absent. Yet the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production postulates
a growth-tendency on the part of the productive forces (i.e. Development
Thesis) amidst antagonistic forms of social organisation. To what extent
such a growth-tendency is applicable outside these forms (i.e., in effect,__
outside class society) is a question that is never posed explicitly by
Engels. Why, for instance, should the forces of production in a non-
antagonistic social milieu develop necessarily in the manner (and with the
consequences) prescribed by the Dialectic? What initiates such growth and
sustains its continuity and cumulative character'? Engels offers no
answers to these questions because they never surface in his analysis. Yet
they are extremely important for the internal consistency and adequacy of

233
his account. Let it be remembered that what is under question here is not
whether these technological advances actually took place but, rather
whether Engels demonstrates adequately their necessity within the
contours of the theory he espouses. If, as it appears, he does not, then one
is unavoidably tempted to regard his retention of the Development Thesis
for primitive society as the unwarranted application of an axiomatic
principle outside its prescribed range. This is indeed the suspicion that
emanates from the fact_that Engels continues to apply the Dialectic of
Forces and Relations of Production without sufficient theoretical
provision for the fact he has stepped outside the frame of its
reference. [7]

Besides the problems presented by the unprovided retention of the

Development Thesis by Engels, one should not lose-sight of the fact that
the Dialectic of Forces and Relations of Production is a two-legged
proposition. And it is to the problems arising out of Engels's use of the
second leg of the Dialectic that we must now turn; more specifically, to
his application of the Primacy Thesis which advocates the transformative
effect that the developed productive forces are supposed to have on the
primitive relations of production. The focus in this case is on the
putatively ineluctable character of the causal link between the growth of
the productive forces and the emergence of exploitation which is seen as
slowly decomposing and finally overthrowing the communal social relations
of the gentile system. Engels states, for example, that:

The increase of production in all branches - cattle breeding,

agriculture, domestic handicrafts - enabled human labour power
to produce more than was necessary for its maintenance. At the
same time, it increased the amount of work that daily fell to
the lot of every member of the gens or household community or
single family. The addition of more labour power became
desirable. This was furnished by war; captives were made slaves.
Under the'given historical conditions, the first great social
division of labour, by increasing the productivity of labour,
that is, wealth, and enlarging the field of production,
necessarily carried slavery in its wake. Out of the first great

[7] This serious theoretical flaw may be seen as leaving Engels open to
the charge of teleological methodology in its broadest sense, since
what he does, in effect, is to superimpose upon primitive clac-sless
society an analytical scheme derived from and applicable to class
society.
234
 social division of labour arose the first great division of
society, into two classes: masters and slaves, exploiters and
exploited [Origin:568-9; emphasis added].

What Engels does, then, is to establish a necessary connection between the

creation of surplus generated by productive growth (i.e. animal
domestication, horticulture) and the beginnings of exploitation in the
form of slavery. But even if we leave aside the theoretical problems of his
account of productive growth (see, supra, the critical points on his use of
the Development Thesis), there is nothing in Engels's Origin that
establishes the necessity of the rise of exploitation as a result of the
creation of surplus. The latter may well provide the means of maintaining
or employing additional labour but it does not, by and in itself, provide
also the reasons for such an increase in the scale of production and
thereby for exploitation; "the appearance of a surplus", in other words,
"makes possible - which does not mean necessary - structural
transformations in a society" [Godelier, 197*1:274]. [8] Indeed, one may
well assume that, given the non-antagonistic character of production
relations and the limited consumption requirements thereof, quite the
opposite effect, namely no structural change at all, is equally possible;
this is expressed in the justified aporia of Gouldner [1980:322], who
questions why "a modest increase in productivity" should necessarily lead
to "the introduction of slavery - rather than being used to allow everyone
to work a bit less."

An additional problem arises out of Engels's-postulation in the Origin

of the specific form exploitation is thought to assume, namely that of
slavery. Although Engels quotes from Marx's notes which allow for
alternative forms of exploitation, [9] the Origin is structured around the

[8] It is true that in the Preface to the first edition of the Origin,
Engels speaks of productive growth generating "the possibility of
utilising the labour power of others" [op.cit.:450; emphasis added].
In the main corpus of his work, however, the link is throughout
treated as necessary, thus effectively dispensing with the need to
theorise it adequately.
[9] "The modern [i.e. monogamous -PL] family contains in embryo not only
slavery (servitus) but serfdom also, since from the very beginning it
is connected with agricultural services. It contains within itself in
miniature all the antagonisms which later develop on a wide scale
within society and its state" [cited in Origin:k89].

235
idea of slavery as the principal form of the emergent exploitation in
society. This seems to be mainly due to the unilinear typification of
Graeco-Roman society on which the analysis of the Origin rests. [10] By
contrast, Marx in his multilinear writings in the Grundrisse allows for
slavery, bondage and serfdom as equally possible forms of exploitation out
of the primitive commune [cf. op.cit.:491, 495-6]; he specifically speaks of
slavery and serfdom as "further developments of the form of property
resting on the clan system" [ibid:493] Furthermore, there is a certain
incongruity between Marx's and Engels's treatment of the means whereby
slaves are appropriated, namely warfare. Marx, echoing the German
Ideology, [11] treats slavery as the result of warfare which is a feature
deeply interwoven into the character of antique communities and the inter-
communal strife over land [cf. Grundrisse:490-1 ]; the subjugation and
enslavement of captured prisoners of war is seen only as a "secondary,
derived" phenomenon [ibid:496]. By coniravt, an inversion occurs in the
Origin, where Engels seems to regard the enslavement of captives as
becoming the object of war. [12]

The insufficiently explained connection between surplus and

exploitation in the Origin is not Engels's only account of the emergence
of class divisions. Indeed, it is noteworthy that it is in the Origin, with
its strongly unilinear character and adherence to the Graeco-Roman
prototype, that the surplus-exploitation connection is the sole account of
she rise of classes. In Engels's Anti-Duhring, on the other hand, we find a
;wo-fold explanation of the origin of class differentiation. Besides the
jrthodox account which is later reproduced in the Origin, an additional
schema is proposed in the Anti-Duhring; according to it, the relegation of
ommunal duties to certain functionaries results in the latter gradually
icquiring independence from society until they are ultimately capable of
mposing their dominion over it. Such functions or duties are by no means

10] "Slavery was the first form of exploitation, peculiar to the world of
antiquity; it was followed by serfdom in the Middle Ages and by wage
labour in modern times" [Origin:581 ; emphasis added].
11] "[Slavery -PL] only develops gradually with the increase of
population, the growth of wants, and with the extension of external
relations, both of war and of barter" [German Ideology:21-22].
12] Cf., also, Anti-Dhring:221. But see Marx's dismissal of the 'plunder
thesis' in Capital 1:1 75n and in ch. 4, supra.
236
directly associated with the growth of the productive forces but stem,
rather, from the very structure of primitive relations of production, and,
in particular, from "certain common interests the safeguarding of which
had to be handed over to individuals, ..., under the control of the
community as a whole" [op.cit.:219]. These include the "adjudication of
disputes; repression of abuse of authority by individuals; control of
water supplies, especially in hot countries; and finally, when conditions
were still absolutely primitive, religious functions" [ibid]. Hence it is
the communal relations which appear here as the source of these functions,
the exercise of which, however, is seen as "the beginnings of state power"
[ibid], "the basis of political supremacy" [ibid:220].

This second explanatory proposition in the Anti-Diihring is not itself

free of problematic aspects. For one, its most startling feature is the
complete severance from references to the determination of the political
and ideological superstructure by the economic base; it would not perhaps
be an exaggeration to suggest that Engels's proposition verges on what
sociologically would be immediately characterised as a Weberian-type
explanation, since non-economically relegated functions are treated as
yielding, not only ideological legitimacy and prestige, but also the power
of economic sanctions, access to the means of political coercion and,
ultimately, economic and political supremacy. Besides its apparent 'non-
Marxist' spirit, a theoretical problem arises, again out of the presumed
necessity of the transition from the performance of social duties to the
imposition of class rule. [133 This is a point left virtually unexplained
by Engels for, apart from cursory references to the "heredity of
functions" [ibid:219], he seems to dismiss the need for theorising it
altogether. [14] This does not mean, however, that the problem is not in
need of a distinct conceptualisation; for the difficulty of determining
"when the authority of^ function stops and the authority of exploitation
begins, in societies in which social contradictions, conflicts between

[133 Or, as Habermas [1979:1593 puts a similar peint: "There is no argument

showing why functions of domination had to emerge from the contrasts
of interests rooted in vocational specialization."
[14] "It is not necessary for us to examine here how this independence of
social functions in relation to society increased with time until it
developed into domination over society ..." [Anti-D*uhring:220].
237
groups, are not highly developed" [Godelier, 1974:275" z~-~ -wo
assumption about the necessity of this transition appear extreme'/ -=.^^

Lastly, it should not be. forgotten that this account of -.-- a --* <
derived class formation is followed by a most orthodox explar.aticr. -,f t-ne
emergence of slavery as a result of productive grew..-, 'cf. inti-
D*hring:220-1 ]. Engels fails to show the complementarity of tr.e two
accounts or even to relate them in any way; they regain iisti.-.-.t and
parallel to each other. This has prompted Sawer [1977:7-1! zz a.-7.e that
the duplicate model of class formation in the Anti-Duhri.-.g ir.zLziizs an
implied juxtaposition between the Asiatic and classical types; ftr, 3ince
Asia 'defies' the straitjacket of a reductionist account of state ?er.e3i3
it equally requires a distinct account of class formation based or. 3ccial
functions. There is probably some truth in Sawer's argument, rar-;-.lary
in view of Engels's inclusion of the "control of water supplies, especially
in hot countries" [Anti-Duhring:21 93 among the relega-.ee ttzr.unal
functions. On the other hand, there can be no certainty as to 'r.ezr.zr such
a juxtaposition is latent in the Anti-Duhring. What is mere lively ;a that
Engels remained undecided on the question of the connect;;.-, tet'-ee- ni3
two accounts of class formation; that much should be allowed fzr :y the
fact that his function-based account includes references, r.ct t.-.ly tc the
"Oriental despot or satrap", but also to the "dynast cf a :.-ee^ v-ioe"
[op.cit.:2203.

Such doubts are not, of course, relevant in Engels's pcst-Mcrgar. period,

at which his unilinear turnabout results in as many ir.stir.tes r? the
(strongly europocentric) typification of the Graeco-Roman type. 7r._2, ftr
example, we read that the Greeks were "the most civilise:: tr.z -i.r.iy-
developed people of antiquity" [Origin:49^3; that the case ti tr.e rzza of
the Athenian state represents "the purest, most classical fora'' 7.1-1^575],
since how the state developed "can nowhere be traced better, at Le=2t in
its initial stage, than in ancient Athens" [ibid:5283; ar.d, ever. f_rt-.er
back in time, that we encounter the emergence of monogamia.: farily ";.- = n
its severity among the Greeks" [ibid:U923. A comprehensive list :f all r.zn
instances of typification would indeed be too long to compile. ;: -:.!:,
course, be mistaken to assume from such typification that Ir^eis --.TCZZ

the histories of all tribes, Greek, Roman, Iroquois, etc, as iter.tirsl. Vhat

238
is nevertheless obvious is that he attempts to demonstrate that the same
general principles govern all development and that nowhere can these
principles be detected more clearly than in the Greek and Roman cases, the
most developed and representative of all. [15] It is, therefore, on his
treatment of early Graeco-Roman history that we must now focus, with the
view of trving to determine whether Engels's analysis does actually bear
out and confirm the underlying assumptions of his developmental scheme.

Before we begin the discussion in earnest, though, a parenthetical note

is called for. This concerns the fact that the typification, in the Origin,
of the Graeco-Roman case as the prototype of the entry of humanity into
civilisation inevitably leaves very little space for the consideration of
the role of the geographical environment in the emergence of the ancient
world. There is no need here to repeat the conjectures that were attempted
when we discussed the same problem with regard to Marx (see chs 3 and 4,
supra). The only thing to add is that one of the major consequences of
Engels's omission is his inadequate conceptualisation of one of the
central characteristics in the genesis of the ancient world, namely the
specifically antique form of private property. As one of his most
sympathetic but astute critics has observed, Engels, in the Origin, leaves
"essentially unexplained the origin of landownership in Greece" [Tokei,
1979:3*0. There is some reason to suppose that this inadequate explanation
has something to do with the' insufficient attention he paid to the
particular physical characteristics of Greece and, especially, its
narrowness of space; this is so because, some eight years before
publication of the Origin (and, therefore, before his unilinear turnabout
also), Engels had established quite an explicit correlation between land
superfluity and the type of property:

The original common ownership of land corresponded, on the one

: hand, to a level of development of human beings in which their
horizon was restricted in general to what lay immediately
available, and presupposed, on the other hand, a certain
superfluity of land ... When this surplus land was exhausted,
common ownership also declined [The Part Played by Labour in the

[15] Engels centres his analysis on the case of Greece and Rome,
overlooking the fact that Marx, following Morgan, remarks in his
notes that the particular family type of the Roman and Hebrew variety
was an exceptional form [cf. Krader, 1972:119].
239
 Transition from Ape to Man:363].

But let us concentrate on what is actually said in the Origin. On the

basis of information obtained from Grote, Mommsen and Niebuhr, Engels
devotes three chapters to the examination of the Grecian and Roman gentes,
their dissolution and the rise of the Athenian state (which serves him as
the prototype of state genesis). As far as the organisation of the Grecian
and Roman gentes is conceded. Engels concentrates on-their- common
characteristics which he thinks of as very similar to those of Morgan's
Iroquois gens, although, at the time of the Greeks' entry into history
(Heroic Age), the Grecian gens is already in a transitory period. The
features common to both gentes include [cf. 0rigin:521-6 and 538-43]: the
possession of communal property; the hierarchical organisation of gentes
into phatries and tribes; the right to elect and depose chiefsr the-resting
of sovereign authority in the popular assembly (the agora in the Greek
case, the comitia curiata in the Roman) consisting of all gentes with
equal votes each; the institution of a Council (Greek Boule, Roman Senate)
where preliminary discussion of all issues takes place before their
introduction to the assembly; the formation, on the basis of this council,
of a group of social functionaries (Greek kratistoi, Roman patriciate);
and, finally, the non-hereditary office of military commander (Greek
basileus, Roman rex) whose function is non-governmental in the sense that
he has no civil powers over life, liberty or property, except at times of
war.

This comparative description of the Grecian and Roman gentes begins to

be somewhat problematical when we come to Engele's analysis of the causes
for their respective dissolution. For quite different factors are given
prominence in each case, although the underlying assumption of common
developmental principles in operation remains thereby unaffected. In the
Grecian case, the processes which, before the Solonian reforms (594 BC),
are thought of as instrumental in undermining the gentile constitution
have a purely internal character; they are directly associated with
productive growth and its impact on the communality. During this period,
the so-called Heroic Age, which represents the upper stage of Barbarism
according to Morgan's periodisation, Engels notes that:

240
 The population increased with the growth of the herds, with
field agriculture and the beginnings of the handicrafts. With
this came increased differences in wealth, which gave rise to an
aristocratic element' within the old natural-grown democracy
[ibid:525].

The appearance of social divisions as a result of productive growth

constituted a serious threat to the kinship system, since it brought about
the intermingling of the gentes and, consequently, the diminution of the
significance of the old kinship ties and their replacement by territorial
links Cef. ibid:532-3] The situation was further aggravated by the
continuing division of labour between agriculture and manufacture and the
spread of exchange practices [cf. ibid:529]. The reforms which legend
attributes to Theseus forced upon the Greeks of Attica a certain
centralisation of authority, brought about by the unification of Attican
tribes; they also introduced an institutionalised division of the Athenian
People, irrespective of gentes, phatries and tribes, into different classes
or 'orders' [eupatrides, geomoroi, demiurgi] with differential gradation of
political rights and access to public office. Unlike Rome, however, "this
division remained inoperative, as it created no other legal distinctions
between the classes" [ibid:529] and gradually fell into desuetude, since,
by "the time of Aristides, all offices were open to all the citizens"
[ibid:53^] The period up to Solon's time saw the further deterioration of
the fabric of gentile society, as the results of productive growth
continued to pile up: the development of an extensive money system with
which the "gentile constitution is absolutely incompatible" [ibid:530];
increases in the exploitation of the common people by a rising aristocracy
through usury and debt-bondage; the introduction of enslaved people into
production, etc. All those internal developments carried the Grecian gens
to the brink of its dissolution and in them "lies the root of the entire
revolution that followed" [ibid:531 ]

The case of the Roman gens, on the other hand, is depicted in somewhat
different terms. Here the processes that lead to the .destruction of the
gens and the rise of the state (the latter marked by the constitution of
the rex Servius Tullius and solidified in the formal establishment of the
Roman Republic in 509 BC) appear in quite a different light. For the
increase of population, which is again seen as having disturbed the

241
sensitive balance of the gentile constitution, is attributed, not to an
internal process of development such as the growth of the forces of
production, but to the quantitative enlargement brought about by conquest
and the influx of immigrants. Hence the ensuing differentiations within
Rome are caused, not by the emergence of internal social divisions, but by
the problems generated by the attempt to assimilate this alien population
into the old gentile structure. Thus:

the population of the city of Rome and of the Roman territory,

enlarged by conquest, increased, partly by immigration, partly
through the inhabitants of the subjugated, mostly Latin,
districts. All these new subjects ... were outside of the old
gentes, curiae and tribes, and so were not part of the populus
Romanus, the Roman people proper. They were personally free,
could own land, had to pay taxes and were liable to military
service. But they were not eligible for office and could neither
participate in the assembly of-curiae nor in the distribution of
conquered state lands. They consituted the plebs, excluded from
all public rights [ibid.^^].

A social division emerged, therefore, in Rome, chiefly because:

Owing to their continually increasing numbers, their military

training and armament, [the plebs -PL] became a menace to the
old populus who had now closed their ranks hermetically against
all increase [ibidtS1*1*]. "

What was of determinate importance in the Roman case, then, was not the
emergence of social divisions within the gentile system itself because of
increases in wealth, but, rather, the intrusion into that system of new
people who were deprived of the full rights enjoyed by the original
members of the gentes; therefore, in Rome, it was the whole of the old
gentile society that "became an exclusive aristocracy amidst a numerous
plebs, standing outside of it, having no rights but only duties"
Cibid:575].

This, however, is quite a different development from that which took

place in Attica, where the resolution of social divisions in the form of
the Athenian state "sprang directly and mainly out of the class antagonism
that developed within gentile society" [ibid]. The Roman case, therefore,
patently contradicts the original assumption which Engels borrows from
Marx's notes, namely that "property differences in a gens changed the

242
community of interest into antagonism between members of a gens" [cited in
Origin;5723. And this is so because, as far as the Roman case is concerned,
Engels does not present us with a transition from a community to a
conflict of interest, but with the clash between two externally posited
groups, one of which tries to preserve its exclusive (and internally
unaffected) communal rights while the other strives to gain access to
them. The forms of antagonism within the Grecian and Roman systems are
correspondingly divergent. In the Athenian case, the poorer members of the
commune call for the restoration of the old gentile equality which has
been eroded by the creation of wealth differentials within the gens.
Assimilation into the gentile system, and not restoration of rights which
they never had, is, on the contrary, the demand of the Roman plebs. The
latter formed a mass

of new inhabitants, strangers to the gentile associations,

which, ...j could become a power in the land, and was too numerous
to be gradually absorbed by the consanguine gentes and tribes.
The gentile associations confronted these masses as exclusive,
privileged bodies; what had originally been a naturally-grown
democracy was transformed into a hateful aristocracy [ibid:575].

What are the repercussions of this difference between Athens and Rome,
in view of the fact that Engels continues to insist on the subsumption of
both cases under a single uniform developmental pattern? The first is that
the rise of the Athenian state presents serious difficulties by itself
because of the restorative content of the antagonisms within the gens
which are thought of as underlying it; this is discussed in detail below.
The second repercussion is that Engels's failure to theorise the
divergence between his two examples leaves no room for an adequate
conceptualisation of the phenomena of Athenian democracy and (early)
Roman Republic, respectively. This centres especially on the fact that the
direct democracy of Athens did away completely with all gradations of
political rights within the citizenry and the transfer of class
antagonisms onto the level of wealth differentials; while, by contrast,
Rome experienced the survival of political and legal privileges, alongside

243
differences in wealth, within the citizen body. [16] The political
inequalities built into the Roman constitution and their impact on Roman
history are indeed referred to by Engels; [17] but they remain essentially
unexplained because of his firm entrenchment in the notion of a uniform
evolutionary pattern universally governing the dissolution of the gens
and the emergence of class society.

Before we turn to the problems associated with Engels's treatment of

tne~ris~e of the Athenian state, it is necessary to digress for a moment, in
order to consider a major incongruity between his and Marx's conceptions
of the ancient world. This concerns the degree of the development of
exchange relations and the extent of slavery in the early history of
antiquity. We had the opportunity, while discussing the problem of
internal periodisation', to follow Marx on his view that the expansion and
universalisation of slave labour as well as the emergence of widespread
market relations appertain to the later phase of ancient history. Engels,
however, believes that, due to productive advances, exchange becomes
regularised even at the middle stage of Barbarism, and that it is further
intensified during its upper stage [cf. Origin:567 and 570-1]. With the
entry of humanity into Civilisation, a market economy already
predominates, since the entire period of civilisation is regarded as
having been dominated by the laws of commodity production [cf. ibid:580].
Accordingly the decline of the Grecian gens is thought of as accompanied
by the "transformation of products into commodities" [ibid:531]; by the
"constantly expanding money rule of the nobility" which "penetrated like a
corroding acid into the traditional life of the rural communities"
[ibid:530]; by the consequent full development of the division of labour
between the different branches of production [cf. ibid:532]; by a "steadily
increasing number of foreign immigrants" [ibid:53^]; and by a tremendous
expansion of the use of slaves in production [cf. ibid:531]. All these

[16] Engels himself points out that the lowest of the six classes
established by Servius Tullius's constitution consisted of
"proletarians" whose participation in the citizen body was severely
restricted, since they were exempt from taxation and conscription and
excluded from public office [Origin:5^^].
[17] "Within this constitution moved the whole history of the Roman
republic with all its struggles between patricians and plebians for
admission to office and a share in the state lands ..." [Origin:5^5].
144
results of the growth of productive forces are seen as having undermined
the gentile system and necessitated its replacement by a completely new
institution, the state.

As we have already seen, though, the emphasis in Marx's case, is somewhat

different. He speaks of early classical antiquity as based on "small
agriculture working for direct consumption" and of manufacture as mainly a
"domestic side occupation of wives and daughters" [Grundrisse:475]; and he
contrasts the modern age, as "the urbanization of the countryside", with
antiquity, as "the ruralization of the city" [ibid:479]. Besides, stressing
the underdeveloped division of labour, Marx also warns that "it is simply
wrong to place exchange at the centre of communal society as the original,
constituent element" [ibid:1033; instead, he confines the dominance of
exchange practices only among the purely trading or mercantile nations,
which is itself a phenomenon explainable by the very predominance of
agricultural peoples in antiquity [cf. ibid:108, 223, 487 ]. And, as far as
slavery is concerned, he makes the distinction between two phases in the
history of antiquity, with the first dominated with "peasant agriculture
on a small scale by independent artisans", and the second characterised by
a production seized by slavery "in earnest" [Capital I:452~3n].
Furthermore, whereas Engels thinks of ancient production as geared to the
market and the laws of commodity, Marx repeatedly stresses the subsistence
character of all precapitalist forms of production in which the'aim is
"the production of use values" [Grundrisse:485], and wealth "does not
appear as the aim of production" [ibid:487]. He emphasises, more
particularly, that "in antiquity, exchange value was not the nexus rerum"
[ibid:223] and that it rather played "only an accompanying role to use
value" [ibid:252]; that the individual "is placed in such conditions of
earnign his living as to make not the acquiring of wealth his object"
[ibid:476]; and that, in general, in the "ancient Asiatic, Classical-
antique, and other such modesof-production, the transformation of the
product into a commodity, and therefore men's existence as producers of
commodities, plays a subordinate role" [Capital 1:1 72].

It is not, of course, necessary to go through Marx's reasons for

restricting the scope of exchange relations again. What is not entirely
clear, though, is why Engels diverges from such a view by stating that in

245
early Athenian history, for example, "movable property, wealth in money,
slaves and ships" had already become "an end itself" [Origin:534]. And,
indeed, by declaring that the motive of wealth acquisition has been the
governing principle of all class societies:

Naked greed has been the moving spirit of civilisation from the
first day of its existence to the present time; wealth, more
wealth and wealth again; wealth, not of society, but of this
shabby individual was its sole and determining aim [ibid:582].

A plausible explanation is that Engels needs to overplay the role of

exchange relations and their consequences, in order to bring out more
forcefully the contrast between the gentile system and class society. This
is connected with his attempt to present the rise of the state as a
radical break from the old communal constitution, as the immediate
superstructural consequence of a class-ridden economic social structure
which no longer resembles gentile society. It could be further argued that
his tendency to extrapolate backward the laws of market economy emanates
from the difficulties he encounters in representing the genesis of the
Athenian state in a reductionist manner so as to appear as the or'gan in
the hands of the possessing class; and that one of the means he employs
towards this end is the exaggeration of the differences between gentile
society and its successor. But by doing this Engels is forced to minimise
their continuity; thus, he sees, for example, all the communal features of
the class society of Athens as mere ideological survivals [cf. ibid:535].
Yet, such focusing on the differences between gentile and class society
inevitably carries the price of simplification which deprives him of the
conceptual means by which Marx's comprehension of the complexity of
ancient relations of production is achieved. And a representative instance
of this reductionist simplification is offered by his assertion that, with
the advent of the state, the class antagonism is "no longer between the
nobles and the common people, but that between slaves and freemen,
dependents and citizens" [ibid:53<?]. [18] Yet such an assertion leaves
little room for the consideration of the continued conflict within the
citizen body which features so prominently in Marx's analysis.

[18] "Instead of exploiting their own fellow-citizens ..., the Athenians

now exploited mainly the slaves and the non-Athenian clients"
[Origin:53t].
2M6
 By being firmly entrenched in the postulates of economic reductionism,
Engels bases his treatment of state genesis on the orthodoxy that sees in
the state the expression of class domination; the state is thus defined as
"an organisation of the possessing class for its protection against the
non-protecting class" [ibid:578]. But what of the formation itself of the
state? Engels advances the general thesis that, with the gentile system
rapidly dissolving:

Only one thing was missing: an institution that would not only
safeguard the newly-acquired property of private individuals
against the communistic traditions of the gentile order, would
not only sanctify private property, formerly held in such light
esteem, and pronounce this sanctification the highest purpose of
human society, but would also stamp the gradually developing new
forms of acquiring property, and consequently, of constantly
accelerating increase in wealth, with the seal of general public
recognition; an institution that would perpetuate, not only the
newly-rising class division of society, but also the right of
the possessing class to exploit the non-possessing classes and
the rule of the former over the latter. And. this institution
_arrived. The state was invented [ibid:528].

Yet, again, the necessity of the linkage between, on the one hand, the
decline of the gentile order and the rise of class antagonisms, and, on the
other, the institution of the state fails to become totally clear. That
which emerges from what Engels says of the conditions of state genesis -
i.e.. the dissolution of the gentile communality and equality and,
consequently, "the need to hold class antagonisms in check" [ibid:577] - is
that such problems may be solved by the institution of the state; but not
why their, solution, inevitable as it may be, should necessarily involve
state formation. As Habermas [1979:159] observes on this point:

If this thesis were correct, it could explain the emergence of

system problems that could be solved by organization in a state;
but this new form of social integration itself remains [thereby
,:**PLr]-unexplained. [19]

[19] Cf., also, Godelier [1978:235] who points out that Engels's analysis
cannot "pretend to show that in Greece 'the state sprang directly and
mainly out of the class antagonisms that developed within gentile
society'."
247
 The problems with Engels's account of state genesis do not end at that,
however; it is his choice of paradigm for state genesis which gives rise to
further questions. Being of the view that the processes leading to the
emergence of the state "can nowhere be traced better, at least in its
initial stage than in ancient Athens" [Origin:528], he focuses his
analysis on pre-classical Attica. But, although he considers the final
form of state in antiquity to be "above all the state of the slave owners
for the purpose of holding down the slaves" [ibid:578], he regards its
emergence as the product of the social antagonisms generated within the
gentile system during its decomposition.

The first instance of state formation in Attica is marked by what is

known as the Solonian revolution, a typically 'caesurial* historical moment
since it was the climactic culmination of a long and turbulent period of
bitter social struggles which had erupted at the beginning of the sixth
century BC. Solon, vested with supreme legislative power of mediation
between the warring factions, introduced a series of constitutional
reforms. But it is the nature of these reforms, as described by Engels
himself, that make his endeavour to apply his thesis of state formation so
problematical. For, instead of the "sanctification of private property"
[cf. ibid:528] that one would expect from the prototype of state genesis,
Solon started his reforms by what amounted to an assault on it, a virtual
"encroachment on property" as Engels himself admits [ibid:533L Solon's
seisactheia not only restored to their freedom defaulting debtors who had
fallen in bondage and allowed "all who had fled or had been sold abroad
for debt to return home" [ibid]; it also prohibited all "contracts which
involved the personal hypothecation of the debtor" [ibid], a measure
unknown anywhere else in the ancient world [cf. Ste.Croix, 1981:137 and
281-2]. Solon thus checked decisively the tendency of the rich landowners
to abase the poor peasantry by debt bondage by the strict and explicit
prohibition of the latter - a legislative measure hardly designed to
perpetuate the rule of the possessing class over the non-possessing class,
as Engels's general thesis of state formation postulates [cf. 0rlgin:528].
Stopping short only of a redistribution of the land, Solon also imposed a
ceiling on "the amount of land any one individual could own, in order to
put a curb, at least, on the craving of the nobility for peasants' land"
[ibid:533] - again a measure hardly becoming to a state whose functions

248
are generally said to include the stamping of the "constantly accelerating
increase in wealth" [ibid:528].

Solon divided the population of Attica into four classes on criteria

based on the amount of land property (or, rather, on its annual yield in
grain) held by each individual citizen, but he maintained the
differentiation on the basis of kinship in the reconstituted Council where
all four of the old original tribes of Attica were equally represented
Cef. ibid:5333. Now, it is beyond doubt that the Solonian reforms, as
described by Engels, mark the emergence of a social structure which
signifies a defeat for the old communal system, in the sense that the
balance has begun to tilt against kinship ties from the moment that a
differentiation of citizens on the basis of their landed property is
introduced alongside the old gentile organisation. At the same time,
however, the nascent structure, while acknowledging and, to a certain
degree, institutionalising a certain economic differentiation, is
primarily designed to preclude the creation of dramatic economic
crevasses within the commune. Solon's constitution, even in the light of
Engels's own presentation of it, is characterised by the wish to restore a
certain degree of economic equality by curtailing the depradations of the
rich and by ensuring the staunch survival of the small independent
peasantry. But if the essence of the Solonian revolution consisted of the
fact that "creditors' property had to suffer for the benefit of debtors'
property" [ibid], then it is hard to see how the state that was born out of
it can be explained by the general thesis which requires of it to work for
the perpetuation of "the right of the possessing class to exploit the non-
possessing classes" [ibid:528].

In the post-SoJonian period Athens experienced a revival of social

antagonisms which culminated, in 5^6 BC, in the seizure of power by
Peisistratus as the champion of popular discontent. Engels refers only in
passing to Peisistratus's rule [cf. ibid:537], but he nonetheless remarks
that, during the period between Solon (59M BC) and Cleisthenes (509 B C ) ,
"usurious land operations, rampant in the pre-Solon period, were checked,
as was the unlimited concentration of landed property" [ibid:534]. At any
rate, the process of state formation in Athens was concluded by
Cieisthenes's revolution; this put an end to the relative resurgence of the

2*J9
influence of the landed aristocracy and inaugurated the classical era by
the institution of a democratic organisation within the confines of which
all citizens, irrespective of wealth, enjoyed equal political rights.
Cleisthenes's constitution terminated the division of the citizens on the
basis of consanguine ties by abolishing the four old Attican gentile
tribes Geschlechtsstamm]. The Athenian citizens were instead divided into
one hundred demes, according to their place of domicile, with ten demes
constituting one larger self-governing unit, the local tribe [Ortsstamm]
[cf. ibid:535]. This completed the transition to a society organised along
territorial rather than kinship rights; the "consummation was the Athenian
state, governed by a council of five hundred - elected by the ten tribes -
and, in the last instance, by the popular assembly, which every Athenian
citizen could attend and vote in" [ibid], Cleisthenes's reforms
institutionalised, then, the citizens' access to political power by
ensuring their political equality and by depriving the nobility from its
monopoly of office. Engels concedes that, due to the absence of
aristocratic privileges in the constitution and the numerical superiority
of the poor citizens, "the people retained the decisive power" in Athenian
democracy [ibid^ 1 *]. Yet, once more, it is difficult to see how such an
acknowledgment can possibly be reconciled with the general proposition,
found later on in the Origin, according to which the state is necessarily
"the state of the most powerful, economically dominant class, which,
through the medium of the state, becomes also the politically dominant
class" [ibid:577-8]. [20]

It could be argued that such a stark contradiction between two

propositions which purport to exemplify the same thing (i.e. the character
of the state) emanates from Engels's inability to reconcile, on the one
hand, his reductionist conception of the state in general as the organ of
class oppression, and, on the other, his (unfortunate for the credibility
and consistency of his account) adherence to the Athenian case as the
example of state formation. The overall reductionist posture leaves him
little room in which to theorise the forms of political intervention at

[20] "The cohesive force of civilised society is the state, which in all
typical periods is exclusively the state of the ruling class, and in
all cases remains essentially a machine for keeping down the
oppressed, exploited class" [0rigin:58l ].
250
the disposal of the poor Athenians who constituted the majority in the
democratic assembly and who put their collective political lever to the
service of directly economic aims, thus counterbalancing the influence of
their wealthy fellow-citizsns. [21 ] Furthermore, the undiluted nature of
citizen democracy in Athens did away with the aristocratic monopoly of
state office (unlike Rome); and it ensured the public accountability of
all officials (both military and civil) who were subject to regular
popular election. This also explains the absence-iir Athens of all forms of
a permanent officialdom which Engels regards as an indispensable feature
of the state institution [cf. ibid:577]. [22]

In conclusion, it becomes evident that the lameness and inadequacy of

Engels's treatment of state genesis does not so much lie in his assumption
that a state society is the successor of the. ol,d gentile system but,
rather, in the way he tries to argue the transition. More specifically, it
consists of two fundamental flaws in his analysis. Firstly, his inability
to argue the necessity of the link between the presence of class
antagonisms -with in the gentile constitution and the emergence of the
state. And, secondly, the discrepancy between what he espouses, in general,
as the character of the state and what the Athenian case, by which he tries
to explicate it, actually proves. It is the failure to bridge this latter
discrepancy that, at the end, results in a major crack in the solidity of
his account.

[21] As Ste.Croix [1981:97] observes: "That extraordinary phenomenon, Greek

democracy, was essentially the political means by which the non-
propertied protected themselves ... against exploitation and
oppression by the richer landowners ..."
[22] Cf. the point by Anderson [1974a:43]: "There was scarcely any separate
or professional apparatus in the city, whose political structure was
essentially defined by its rejection of specialized bodies of
officials - civilian or military - apart from the ordinary citizenry:
Athenian democracy signified, precisely, the refusal of any such
division between 'state' and 'society'."
251
Cl.) REFERENCES TO THE WORKS OF MARX AND ENGELS

Author(3) Written or ritle

first published

Marx 1843 Critique of Hegel's Doctrine of the "State"; in

Marx: Early Writings; Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1975

Marx and Engels 1844 The Holy Family; in Marx and Engels: Collected
Works, Vol. 4; London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1975

Marx and Engels 1845-6 The German Ideology, Ch. 1; in Marx and Engels:
Selected Works, Vol. 1; Moscow: Progress
Publishers, 1969

Marx 1846 Marx to P.V. Annenkov, December 28, 1846; in Marx

and Engels: Selected Correspondence; Moscow:
Progress ?ublishers:1 975

Marx 1846-7 The Poverty of PI- '.loscphy; New York: International

Publishers, 19o3 .

Marx 1847 Wage Labour and Capital; in Marx and Engels:

Selected Works in One Volume; London:- Lawrence and
Wishart, 1977

Engels 1847 Principles of Communism; in Marx and Engels:

Collected Works, Vol.6; Moscow: Progress
Publishers, 1976

Marx and Engels 1847-8 Manifesto of the Communist Party; in Marx and
Engels: Selected Works in One Volume

Marx 1853 Forced Emigration; in Marx and Engels :-Collected

Works, Vol.11; Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1978

Engels 1853 Engels to Marx, June 6, 1853; in Marx and Engels:

Selected Correspondence

Marx 1853 Marx to Engels, June 14, 1853; in Marx and Engels:
Selected Correspondence

Marx 1853 The British Rule in India; in Marx: Surveys from

Exile; Harmondsworth : Penguin, 1973

Marx 1853 The Future Results of the Britlsn Rule in India;

in Marx : Surveys from Exile

252
 BIBLIOGRAPHY

The works of Marx and Engels are listed, in chronological order, in section
(i); while section (ii) includes the rest of the bibliography in
alphabetical order. -.....
Marx 1855 Marx to Engels, March 8, 1855; in Marx and Engels:
Pre-Capital ist Socio-Economlc Formations; Moscow:
Progress Publishers, 1979

Marx 1857 Marx to Engels, September 25, 1857; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Correspondence

Marx 1857-8 Grundrisse; Harmondsworth : Penguin, 1973

Marx 1859 Preface to his A Contribution to the Critique of

Political Economy; in Marx and Engels : Selected
Works in One Volume

Marx 1859 A Contribution to the Critique of Political

Economy; London : Lawrence and Wishart, 1970

Engels 1859 Review of Marx's A Contribution to the Critique of

Political Economy; appended to the latter

Marx 1861 Marx to Engels, February 27, 1861; in Marx and

Engels: Selected Correspondence

Marx 1861-3 Theories of Surplus-Value;

Part I, Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1963
Part II, London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1969
Part III, Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1971

Marx 1863 Marx to Engels, January 28, 1863; in Marx and

Engels: Selected Correspondence

Marx c.1863~6Results of the Immediate Process of Production;

appended to Marx :Capital I; Harmondsworth :
Penguin, 1976

Marx 1865 Wages, Price, and Profit; in Marx and Engels:

Selected Works in One Volume

Marx 1866 Marx to Engels, July 7, 1866; in Marx and Engels:

Selected Correspondence

Marx 1867 Capital I; Harmondsworth : Penguin, 1976

Marx 1869.. ... Preface to the Second Edition of his The

Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte; in Marx:
Surveys from Exile

Marx 1871 Marx to E.S. Beesly, June 12, 1871; in Marx and
Engels: Selected Correspondence

Engels 1873_8 Dialectics of Nature; Lawrence and Wishart, 195*4

253
 1
Engels 376 The Part Played by Labour in the Transition from
Ape to Man; in Marx and Engels; Selected Works in
One Volume

Engel3 1876-8 Anti-Dvihring; Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1976

Marx 1877 Marx to the Editorial Board of Otechestvenniye

Zapiski [November 1877]; in Marx and Engels :
Selected Corresoondence

Engels 1880 Socialism : Utopian and Scientific; in Marx and

Engels: Selected Works in One Volume

Marx 1881 Marx to V.l. Zasulich, March 8, 1881; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Correspondence

Marx 1881 First Draft of Letter to V.l. Zasulich; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Works, Vol. 3; Moscow : Progress
Publishers, 1976

Marx 1881 Second and Third Drafts of Letter to V.l.

Zasulich; extracts appended to Marx : Pre-
capitalist Economic Formations; London : Lawrence
and Wishart, 1964

Engels 1883 Speech at the Graveside of Karl Marx; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Works in One Volume

Engels 1884 The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and

__,. ._ tfre state; in Marx and Engels : Selected Works in
One Volume

Marx 1885 Capital II; Harmondsworth : Penguin, 1978

Engels 1887 Preface to the American Edition of his The

Condition of the Working-Class in England; in
Marx and Engels : Pre-Capltalist Socio-Economie
Formations

Engels 1890 Engels to J. Bloch, September 21[-22], 1890; in

Marx and Engels : Selected Correspondence

Engels 1893 Engels to F. Mehring, July 14, 1893; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Correspondence

Engels 1894 Engels to W. Borgius, January 25, 1894; in Marx and

Engels : Selected Correspondence

Marx 1894 Capital III; London : Lawrence and Wishart, 1977

Engela 1895 Engels to F. Tonni es, January 24, 1895; in Marx and
Engels : Selected Correspondence

:54
(ii) BIBLIOGRAPHY

ACTON, H.B. [1951]: 'The Materialist Conception of History'; in

Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, LII, 1951-2

ACTON, H.B. [1970]: 'On Some Criticisms of Historical Materialism'; in

Supplementary Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, XLIV, 1970

ANDERSON, P. [1974a]: Passages from Antiquity to Feudalism; London: New

Left Books

ANDERSON, P. [1974b]: Lineages of the Absolutist State; London: New Left

Books

ALTHUSSER, L. and E. BALIBAR [1970]: Reading Capital; London: New Left

Books

ASAD, T. and H. WOLPE [1976]: 'Concepts of Modes of Production1; in

Economy and Society, Vol.5, No.4, November 1976

AVINER, S. [1968]: The Social and Political Thought of Karl Marx;

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

AV INER, S. [1969]: 'Introduction' to S. AVINERI (ed.): Karl Marx on

Colonialism and Modernization; New York: Anchor Books

AUSTIN, M.M. and P. VIDAL-NAQUET [1977]: Economic and Social History of

Ancient Greece: An Introduction; London: B.T. Batsfold Ltd.

BAILEY, A.M. and J.R. LLOBERA [1974]: 'The Asiatic Mode of Production : An
Annotated Bibliography; Part I'; in Critique of Anthropology, No.3 1974

BAILEY, A.M. and J.R. LLOBERA [1975]: 'The Asiatic Mode of Production : An
Annotated Bibliography; Part II'; in Critique of Anthropology, Nos. 4-5,
1975

BAILEY, A.M. [1981]: 'The Renewed Discussions on the Concept of the

Asiatic Mode of Production*; in J.S. KAHN and J.R. LLOBERA (eds.): The
Anthropology of Pre-Capital ist Societies; London : Macmillan

BAUDRILLARD, J. [1975]: The Mirror of Production; St. Louis : Telos Press

BERLIN, I. [1954]: Historical Inevitability; London : Oxford University

Press

BERLIN, I. [1973]: 'Historical Materialism'; in T.B. B0TT0M0RE (ed.): Karl

Marx; Oxford:' Basil Blackwell

"BLOCH, M. [1983]: Marxism and Anthropology; Oxford : Clarendon Press

255
 BODEMANN, Y .M. [1980]: 'Natural Development ("Naturwchsigkeit") in
Early Society: ' Note to Friedrich Engels' Anthropology'; in Critique of
Anthropology, No.15, Vol.4, Spring 1980

B0TT0M0RE, T.B. [1971]: Sociology: A Guide to Problems and Literature;

London : Unwin

BRISCOE, J. [1974]: 'Rome and the Class Struggle in the Greek Cities'; in
M.I. FINLEY (d.): Studies in Ancient Society; London: Routledge and Kegan
Paul

BROWN, P. [1971]: The World of Late Antiquity; London: Thames and Hudson

BRUNT, P.A. [1974]: 'The Roman Mob'; in M.I. FINLEY (ed.): Studies in
Ancient Society

CARTLEDGE, P. [1975]: 'Toward the Spartan Revolution'; in Arethusa, Vol.8,

No.1, Spring 1975

CARVER, T. [1983]: Marx and Engels : The Intellectual Relationship;

Brighton: Harvester Press

COHEN, G. [1978]: Karl Marx's Theory of History; Oxford: Clarendon Press

COHEN, P.S. [1968]: Modern Social Theory; London: Heinemann

COLLETTI, L. [1972]: From Rousseau to Lenin; London: New. Left Books

COLLETTI, L. [1975]: 'Introduction to MARX: Early Writings;

Harmondsworth: Penguin

COULTER, J. [1971]: 'Marxism and the Engels Paradox'; in R. MILI3AND and

J. SAVILLE (eds.): The Socialist Register 1971; London: The Merlin Press

CUTLER, ., . HINDESS, P. HIRST and A. HUSSAIN [1977]: Marx's "Capital"

and Capitalism Today, Vol.1; London: Routledge and Kegan Paul

DAHRENDORF, R. [1959]: Class and Class Conflict in Industrial Society;

London: Routledge and Kegan Paul

DUPR2, L. [1967]: 'Comment'; in N. L0BK0WICZ (ed.): Marx and the Western

World; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press

ECHEVARRIA, R. [1978]: 'Critique of Marx's "1857 Introduction"'; In

Economy and Society, Vol.7, No.4, 1978

EHRENBERG, V. [1969]: The Greek State; London: Methuen and Co. Ltd.

FARRINGTON, B. [1939]: Science and Politics in the Ancient World; London:

George Allen and'Unwin Ltd.

FINLEY, M.I. [1952]: Studies in Land and Credit in Ancient Athens 500-
200 BC; New Brunswick-New Jersey: Rutgers University Press

256
 FINLEY, M.I. [1960]: 'Was Greek Civilisation Based on .biave Labour?; in
M.I. FINLEY (ed.): Slavery in Classical Antiquity; Cambridge: Heffer

FINLEY, M.I. [1975]: The Use and Abuse of History; London: Chatto and
Windus

FINLEY, M.I. [1983a]: Politics in the Ancient World; Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press

FINLEY, M.I. [1983b]: 'Ancient Society'; in T.B. B0TT0M0RE (ed.):

Dictionary of Marxist Thought; Oxford: Blackwell

FLETCHER, R. [197*0: 'Evolutionary and Developmental Sociology'; in J.

REX (ed.): Approaches to Sociology; London: Routledge

FRIEDMAN, J. [197*0: 'Marxism, Structuralism and Vulgar Materialism*; in

Man, Vol.9, 197*4

FUCKS, A. [1968]: 'Redistribution of Land and Houses in Syracuse in 356

BC and its Ideological Aspects'; in Classical Quarterly, Vol.XVIII, No.2,
1968.

GARNSEY, P. [197*1]: 'Legal Privilege in the Roman Empire'; in M.I. FINLEY

(ed.): Studies in Ancient Society

GELLNER, E. [1964]: Thought and Change; London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson

GIDDENS, A. [1979]: Central Problems in Social Theory; London: Macmillan

GIDDENS, . [1982]: Profiles and Critiques in Social Theory; London:

Macmillan

GINSBERG, M. [1953]: The Idea of Progress : A Revaluation; London:

Methuen

GODELIER, M. [1965]: 'The Concept of the Asian Mode of Production and the
Marxist Model of Social Development'; in Soviet Anthropology and
Archeology, Vol.IV, No.2, 1965

GODELIER, M. [197*0: Rationality and Irrationality in Economics; London:

New Left Books"

GODELIER, M. [1977a]: Perspectives in Marxist Anthropology; London:

Cambridge University Press

GODELIER, M. [1977b]: Politics as "Infrastructure"'-; in J. FRIEDMAN and

M.J. ROWLANDS (ds.): The Evolution of Social Systems; London: Duckworth

GODELIER, M. [1978]: 'The Concept of the Asiatic Mode of Production'; in

D. SEDDON (ed.): Relations of Production; London: Cass

257
 ^DELIER, M. [1979]: 'Epistemological Comments on the Problems of
Comparing Modes of"Production and Societies'; in S. DIAMOND (ed-): Toward a
Marxist Anthropology, The Hague: Mouton Publishers

GORDON, M.L. [1960]: 'The Nationality of Slaves under the Early Roman
Empire'; in M.I. FINLEY (ed.): Slavery in Classical Antiquity

GOULDNER, A.W. [1980]: The Two Marxisms; London: Macmillan

GRANT, M. [1971]: Gladiators; Harmondsworth: Penguin

GRAY. J.N. [1982]: 'Philosophy, Science and Myth in Marxism'; in G.H.R.

PARKINSON (ed.): Marx and Marxisms; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press'

GREEN, P. [1961]: 'The First Sicilian Slave War'; in Past and Present,
No.20, November 1961

HABERMAS, J. [1979]: Communication and the Evolution of Society; London:

Heineraann

HARBSMEIER, M. [1978]: 'Critique of Political Economy, Historical

Materialism and Precapitalist Forms'; in Critique of Anthropology, No.12,
Vol.3, Autumn 1978

HARRIS, M. [1969]: The Rise of Anthropological Theory; London: Routledge

and Kegan Paul

HAYEK, F.A. [1955]: The Counter-Revolution of Science; Glencoe: The Free

Press

HEGEL, G.W.F. [1944]: The Philosophy of History; New York: Willey Book Co.

HELLER, A. [1974]: The Theory of Need in Marx; London: Allison and Busby

HINDESS, B. and P.Q. HIRST [1975]: Pre-Capi tal ist Modes of Production;
London: Routledge and Kegan Paul

HINDESS, B. and P.Q. HIRST [1977]: 'Mode of Production and Social

Formation in PCMP; in Critique of Anthropology, No.8, Vol.2, Spring 1977

HIRST, P.Q. [1975]: 'The Uniqueness of the West'; in Economy and Society,
Vol.IV, No A 1975

HOBSBAWM, E.J. [1964]: 'Introduction' to MARX: Pre-Capltalist Economic

Formations; London: Lawrence and Wishart

HOBSBAWM, E.J. [1972]: 'Karl Marx's Contribution to Historiography'; in R.

BLACKBURN (ed.): Ideology in Social Science; London: Fontana

HODGES, D.C. [1965]: 'Engels's Contribution to Marxism'; in R. MILIBAND

and J. SAVILLE'(eds.): The Socialist Register 1965; London: The Merlin Press

258
 HUMPHREYS, S.C. [1970]: 'Economy and Society in Classical Athens'; in
Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, Vol.XXXlX, 1970

JONES, A.H.M. [1960]: 'Slavery in the Ancient World'; in M.I. FINLEY (ed.):
Slavery in Classical Antiquity

JONES, A.H.M. [196*0: The Later Roman Empire, Voi.II; Oxford: Blackwell

JONES, A.H.M. [197*0: 'The Roman Colonate'; in M.I. FINLEY (ed.): Studies in
Ancient Society

JORDAN, Z.A. [1967]: The Evolution of Dialectical Materialism; London:

Macmillan

KAHN, J.S. and J.R. LLOBERA [1981]: 'Towards a New Marxism or a New
Anthropology'?'; in J.S. KAHN and J.R. LLOBERA (eds.): The Anthropology of
Pre-Capi tal ist Societies; London: Macmillan

KILMINSTER, R. [1982]: 'Theory and Practice in Marx and Marxism'; in

G.H.R. PARKINSON (ed.): Marx and Marxisms

KLINE, G.L. [1967]: 'Some Critical Comments on Marx's Philosophy'; in N.

LOBKOWICZ (ed.): Marx and the Western World

KOLAKOWSKI, L. [1978]: Main Currents in Marxism, Vol.1; Oxford: Clarendon

Press - - - -.

KONSTAN, D. [1975]: 'Marxism and Roman Slavery'; in Arethusa, Vol.8, No.1,

Spring 1975

KORANASHVILI, G. [1980]: 'Morgan's Influence on Marx: The Question of

Asiatic Society'; in Dialectical Anthropology, Vol.5, No.3, November 1980

KORSCH, K. [1963]: Karl Marx; New York: Russell and Russell

KORSCH, K. [1970]: Marxism and Philosophy; London: New Left Books

KRDER, L. [1972]: The Ethnological Notebooks of Karl Marx; Assen: van

Gor cum

KREISSIG, H. [1977]: 'Landed Property in the "Hellenistic" Orient'; in

Eirene, Vol.XV, 1977

KRIEGER, L. [1953]: 'Marx and Engels as Historians^-in'-Journal of " the

History of Ideas, Vol. XIV, No.3, June 1953

LACLAU, E. [1977]: Politics and Ideology in Marxist Theory; London: New

Left Books

LEFORT, C [1978]: 'Marx: From One Vision of History to Another'; in

Social Research, Vol.45, N o A Winter 1978

259
CH-Ucajd.: ^ l l O DOOK3

LICHTHEIM, G. [1961]: Marxism: An Historical and Critical Study; London:

Routledge and Kegan Paul

LICHTHEIM, G. C1963]: 'Marx and the "Asiatic Mode of Production*"; in St.

Antony's Papers, No. 14, Far Eastern Affairs, 1963

LICHTHEIM, G. [1967]: 'On the Interpretation of Marx's Thought*; in N.

LOBKOWICZ (ed.): Marx and the Western World

LICHTHEIM, G. [1971]: From Marx to Hegel and Other Essays; London: Orbach
and Chambers

LICHTHEIM, G. [1973]: 'Historical and Dialectical Materialism'; in

Dictionary of the History of Ideas, Vol.2; New York: Scribner's Sons

LLOBERA, J.R. [1979]: 'Techno-Economic Determinism and the Work of Marx

on Pre-Capi tal ist Societies'; in Man, Vol.14, 1979

LOBKOWICZ, N. [1978]: 'Historical Laws'; in D. McQUARIE (ed.): Marx:

Sociology/Social Change/Capitalism; London: Quartet Books. _

LUKACS, G. [1971]: Hi3tory and Class Consciousness; London: Merlin Press

MANDEL, E. [1971]: The Formation of the Economic Thought of Karl Marx;

London: New Left Books

MARTINS, H. [1974]: 'Time and Theory in Sociology'; in J. REX (ed.):

Approaches to 'Sociology

MATLEY, I.M. [1966]: 'The Marxist Approach to the" Geographical

Environment'; 'in Annals of the Association of American Geographers, Vol.56,
1966

MAYO, H.B. [1970]: 'Marxism as a Philosophy of History'; in M. CURTIS

(ed.): Marxism; New York: Atherton Press

MEIGGS, R. [1972]: The Athenian Empire; Oxford: Clarendon

MEILLASSOUX, C. [1980]: 'From Reproduction to Production: A Marxist

Approach to Economic Anthropology'; in H. WOLPE (ed.): The Articulation of
Modes of Production; London: Routledge and Kegan Paul

MELOTTI, U. [1977]: Marx and the Third World; London: Macmillan

MICHELL, H. [1952]: Sparta; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

MOORE, W.E. [1960]: Reconsideration of Theories of Social Change; in

American Sociological Review, Vol.25, No.6, December 1960

260
 NISBET, R. [1969]: Social Change and History; New York: Oxford University
Press

NOVACK, G. [1978]: Polemics in Marxist Philosophy; New York: Monad Press

OLLMAN, B. [1967]: 'Marx's Use of "Class"'; in The American Journal of

Sociology, Vol.73, 1967

OLLMAN, B. [1971]: Alienation; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

PADGUG, R.A. [1975]: 'Classes and Society in Classical Greece'; in

Arethusa, Vol.8, No.1, Spring 1975

PEARSON, H.W. [1957]: 'The Secular Debate on Economic Primitivism'; in K.

POLANYI, C. ARENSBERG and H.W. PEARSON (eds.): Trade and Market in the Early
Empires; New York: The Free Press

PECIRKA, J. [1963]: 'Land Tenure and the Development of the Athenian
Polis'; in L. VARCL and R.F. WILLETTS (eds.): Geras, Studies Presented to
George Thomson; Prague: Charles University

PERRAIN, C. 1963]: 'Les Charactres Spcifiques de la Lutte de Classes

dans l'Antiquit Classique'; in La Pensee, 108, Avril 1963

PLAMENATZ, J. [1951*]: German Marxism and Russian Communism; London:

Longmans, Green and "Co. ~-

PLAMENATZ, J. [1963]: Man and Society, Vol.2; London: Longman

PLEKHANOV, G.V. [1969]: Fundamental Problems of Marxism; New York:

Lawrence and Wishart

PLEKHANOV, G.V. [1972]: The Development of the Monist View of History;

Moscow: Progress Publishers

POPPER, K. [1969]: The Open Society and Its Enemies, Vol.2; London:
Routledge and Kegan Paul

POULANTZAS, N. [1973]: Political Power and Social Classes; London: Verso

PRAWER, S.S. [1976]: Karl Marx and World Literature; Oxford: Clarendon
Press

PRINTZ, A.M. [1969]: 'Background-and Ulterior Motive of Marx's "Preface"

of 1859'; in "Journal of the History of Ideas, Vol.XXX, No.3, July-September
1969

RADER, M. [1979]: Marx's Interpretation of History; New York: Oxford

University Press

RAPOPORT, A. [1969]: View of the Intellectual Legacy of Karl Marx'; in

INTERNATIONAL SOCIAL SCIENCE COUNCIL (ed.): Marx and Contemporary
Scientific Thought; The'Hague: Mouton and Co.

261
 RODINSQN, M. [1966]: 'What Happened in History?'; in New Left Review,
No.35, January-February 1 966

RUBEL, M- [1981]: 'The "Marx Legend", or Engels, Founder of Marxism'; in J.

O'MALLEY and K. ALGOZIN (eds.): Rubel on Karl Marx; Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press

RUBEN, D.-H. [1982]: 'Marx, Necessity and Science'; in G.H.R. PARKINSON

(ed.): Marx and Marxisms

RUNCIMAN, W.G. [1982]: 'Origin of States: The Caee of Archaic Greece; in

Comparative Studies in Society arKTHTstory, Vol.24, No.3, July 1982

RUNCIMAN, W.G. [1983]: 'Capitalism Without Classes: The Case of Classical

Rome'; in 3ritlsh" Journal of Sociology, Vol.XXXIV, No.2, June 1983

SAHLINS, M. [1976]: Culture and Practical Reason; Chicago: Chicago

University Press

STE.CROIX de, G.E.M. [1954]j .'The Character of the Athenian Empire; in

Historia, III, 1954/5

STE.CROIX de, G.E.M. [1972]: The Origins of the Peloponnesian War; London:
Duckworth

STE.CROIX de, G.E.M. [1975]: 'Karl Marx and the History of Classical
Antiquity'; in Arethusa, Vol.8, No.1, Spring 1975

STE.CROIX de, G.E.M. [1981]: The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek
World; London: Duckworth

SAMUEL, A.E. [1965 J: 'The Role of Paramone Clauses in Ancient Doouments';

in Journal of Juristic Papyrology, 15, 1965

SANTOS dos, T. [1970]: 'The Concept of Social Classes'; in Science and

Society, Vol.34, No.2, Summer 1970

SARAN, A.K. [1963]: 'The Marxian Theory of Social Change; in Inquiry,

Vol.6, 1963

SARTRE, J.-P. [1976]: Critique of Dialectical Reason; London: New Left

Books

SAWER, M. [1977]: Marx and the Asiatic Mode of Production; The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff

SAYER, D. [1977]: 'Pre-Capi tal ist Societies and Contemporary Marxist

Theory; in Sociology, Vol.11, No.1, January 1977

SCHMIDT, A. [1971]: The Concept of Nature in Marx; London: New Left Books

SHAPIRO, M. [1962]: ' Stages of Social Development'; in Marxism Today,

Vol.VI, No.9, September 1962

262
 SHAW, W.H. [1978]: Marx's Theory of History; London: Hutchinson

SHERWIN-WHITE, A.N. [1973]: The Roman Citizenship; Oxford: Clarendon

Press

SMITH, A.D. [1973]: The Concept of Social Change; London: Routledge

SMITH, A.D. [1976]: Social Change; London: Longman

STEDMAN JONES, G. [1973]: 'Engels and the End of Classical German

Philosophy'; in New Left Review, No.79, May/June 1973

STRUVE, V. [1965]: 'The Concept of the "Asian Mode of Production"'; in

Soviet Anthropology and Archeology, Vol.IV, No.2, 1965

TERRAY, E. [1972]: Marxism and "Primitive" Societies; New York: Monthly

Review Press

THERBORN, G. [1976]: Science, Class and Society; London: New Left Books

TIMPANARO, S. [1974]: 'Considerations on Materialism'; in New Left

Review, No.85, May/June 1974

TIMPANARO, S. [1975]: On Materialism; London: New Left Books

THOMPSON, E.A. [1971!]: 'Peasant Revolts in Late Roman Gaul and Spain'; in
M.I. FINLEY (ed.)': Studies in Ancient Society

THORNER, D. [1966]: 'Marx on India and the Asiatic Mode of Production';

in Contributions to Indian Sociology, Vol.9, 1966

TKEI, F. [1979]: Essays on the Asiatic Mode of Production; Budapest:

Akademiai Kiado

TUCKER, R.C. [1961]: Philosophy and Myth in Karl Marx; Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press

TURNER, B. [1978]: Marx and the End of Orientalism; London: Allen and
Unwin

VERNANT, J.-P. [1976]: 'Remarks on the Class Struggle in Ancient Greece';

in Critique of Anthropology, No.7, Vol.2, Autumn 1976

-*" M.X and TER-AKOPIAN, N.B. [1965]: 'In the Pages of the Journal
"La Pensee"'; in Soviet Anthropology and Archeology, Vol.IV, No.2, 1965

WEBER, M. [1971]: 'The Social Causes of the Decay of Ancient

Civilisation'; in J.E.T. ELDRIDGE (ed.): The Interpretation of Social
Reality; London: Michael Joseph

WELSKOPF, E.C. [1981]: 'Problems of Periodisation in Ancient History'; in

A.M. BAILEY and J..R. LLOBERA (eds.): The Asiatic Mode of Production : Science
and Politics; London: Routledge and Kegan Paul
 WERTKEIM, W.F. [1974]: Evolution and Revolution; Harmondsworth: Penguin

WESOLOWSKI, W, [1967]: 'Marx's Theory of Class Domination : An Attempt at

Systematization'; in N. LOBKOWICZ (ed.): Marx and the Western World

WESTERMANN, W.L. [1960]: 'Slavery and the Elements of Freedom in Ancient

Greece1; in M.I. FINLEY (ed.): Slavery in Classical Antiquity

WETTER, G.A. [1958]: Dialectical Materialism; London: Routledge and Kegan

Paul

WILLIAMS, R. [1977]: Marxism and Literature; Oxford: Oxford University

--Pre-3-3" -

YOUNG, G. [1976]: 'The Fundamental Contradiction of Capitalist

Production; in Philosophy and Public Affairs, Vol.5, No.2, Winter 1976

E8E

w
liai] [ i i
Ina *
. 9225549 - 9219718