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Vance Archive | Trotskyist Writers Index | ETOL Main Page T.N. Vance Notes of the Month Fear of Depression in the U.S. (December 1953) From The New International, Vol. XIX No. 6, November–December 1953, pp. 303–312. Transcribed & marked up by Einde O’Callaghan for the Encyclopaedia of Trotskyism On-Line (ETOL). “DEPRESSION IS A REAL FEAR for many of us. It has already touched the farmers. It may touch others in the months ahead.” Thus spoke Adlai E. Stevenson, leader of the “loyal opposition,” in his Philadelphia speech of December 12th. The atmosphere of anxiety appears to reach far beyond the farmers, extending from Main Street to Wall Street. Most people, including those in government, are worried about the economic outlook. That there is some basis for these fears can be seen in the most recent report of the President’s Council of Economic Advisers. The report for December receives the headline in the New York Times of December 15th, November Business Activity Shows First Dip From 1952. Factory output and earnings were off. The average work-week dipped below forty hours, with the 39.9-hour average being the lowest for any November in the last four years. While there were some favorable factors, unemployment increased by 266,000. If one examines the basic national income data, as published by the Department of Commerce in the November issue of the Survey of Current Business, it becomes apparent that a mild recession started in the third quarter of 1953. Gross national product declined from a seasonally adjusted annual rate of $372.4 billion in the second quarter of 1953 to $369 billion in the third quarter. Since personal consumption expenditures and government purchases of goods and services increased, although almost imperceptibly, gross private domestic investment accounts for the decline. For all practical purposes, the entire story is told by the reduction in the change in business inventories from an annual rate of $8.8 billion in the second quarter to one of $4.5 billion in the third quarter. In some quarters, it is fashionable to attribute the present recession to a mere “inventory adjustment” – presumably of no consequence. The November 1953 Survey of Current Business has this to say about the subject: “The bulk of the advance in inventories since the strike-affected third quarter of last year has been in durable goods. Additions to durable goods inventories have reflected substantial replenishments that followed the widespread imbalances caused by the steel shortages as well as the subsequent buildup in many hard good lines, such as automobiles, which were carrying unusually low inventories in the earlier period of production controls. More recently, some backing up of stocks because of lower than expected sales also have been a contributing factor, affecting particularly third, quarter inventories in retail trade.” (Italics mine – T.N.V.) This is a most curious attempt to evade facing reality – and in a publication that is hardly read by the general public. The statement regarding inventories of automobiles is sheer fiction, as retail sales of automobiles have been declining. It has been obvious for several months that production of automobiles has been exceeding sales. The increase in inventories has nothing to do with production restrictions that existed last year or the year before. Not only have retail sales in general been lower than expected, but they are currently running five to ten per cent under last year. The decline in retail sales naturally begins to have an impact at the factory level. Factory sales of all motor vehicles, for example, reached a 1953 peak of 723,532 in April. After declines of eighty and sixty thousand vehicles in May and June, factory sales of motor vehicles still totalled 705,132 in July. In August, the figure was down to 615,382 and in September to 573,688. It is estimated that production of motor vehicles for 1953 may exceed retail sales by several hundred thousand units. New orders are, of course, one of the most sensitive barometers of business conditions. In view of the softening throughout the economy, it is not surprising that net orders declined from a peak of $25.7 billion in April 1953 to $22.4 billion in September, the latest month available. This is a decline of twelve per cent, and must be regarded as significant in any appraisal of the economy. Ninety per cent of the decline in recent months in new orders is to be found in the durable goods industries – total net new orders for all durable goods industries declining from $12.6 billion in April 1953 to $9.6 billion in September. Since the bulk of this decline occurs in transportation equipment, including motor vehicles and parts, the crisis in consumer durables, centering in the automobile industry, is evident. At the same time, there has been some increase in the number of industrial and commercial failures, although not as yet of an alarming nature.

At the same time, there has been some increase in the number of industrial and commercial failures, although not as yet of an alarming nature. More significant has been a pronounced decline in the number of new business incorporations. From a 1953 peak of 9,659 in March, the number of new incorporations throughout the country declined to 7,433 in September – a drop of almost 25 per cent. As the hucksters on Madison Avenue put it, “The economy has become more competitive.” AN INTERESTING APPRAISAL of the economic outlook is contained in the New York Times of December 20th, in the column, The Merchant’s Point of View, by William M. Freeman: The population is just over 160,000,000 and is continuing to go up. While the baby crop is dropping, there are more toddlers and more elderly persons, which means a heavier load on the more or less static middle group. The number of marriages is decreasing. Demand for new homes is easing, a dip that is accentuated by higher prices. Materials prices also are weaker, so that prices of homes and major appliances should turn downward in due course. Sales of furniture, major appliances and a host of other items are closely linked to the housing trend. The television receiver, which increases living room usage, traffic, wear, destruction and replacement, is helping a bit in furniture volume, as is the continuing trend to outdoor living, sparked by the flight from the cities to a semi-suburban way of life. Employment is dipping steadily, with business activity showing its first minus signs for the year in November. Some 1,428,000 persons were jobless in November, 2.3 per cent of the labor force; this was the sharpest rise recorded in the year. All of these factors add up to a downward readjustment, now accelerating. with industrial production off 6 per cent from the peak in March. The Federal Reserve Board’s index stood at the close of November at 228, based on the 1935–39 average taken as 100, against the March figure of 243. Inventories are heavy in most lines. Retail sales are trailing 1952 volume, but the year as a whole, with attractive prices on desired items rather than on ‘lemons,’ aided by special promotions backed by heavy advertising, should finish between 1 and 2 per cent ahead of last year ... In a word, there is a marked softening evident throughout most of the economy. In almost every market, supply now exceeds demand. The term, “buyers’ market,” is used more and more frequently, and is an apt description of the situation in the economy as a whole. While there is reason to fear depression, there is no reason for panic to prevail. Many new products, and improvements in old products, are being put on the market. Business volume is still at a very high level. Freeman concludes his column, quoted above, as follows: It is factors such as this, the product of the engineer, the artist, the production man and the planner, that distort computations. There is no question of a readjustment coming up, aside from anything we scare ourselves into, as a result of the rapid post-Korea expansion and the existence of surpluses in many lines that must be worked off before production rates can be resumed. The outlook, therefore, is for sharply intensified competition, with a marked increase in competitive selling in every aspect of the economy. But, and here’s something that’s been ignored: The slide-off, in the works since mid-year, is from record levels. It seems very likely, therefore, that the year ahead will come close to the 1952 figure, which was very near the record. And the country’s inventive genius can effect this outlook only one way – upward. Ignoring the propaganda content in the phrase, “inventive genius,” there has been as we pointed out in The Permanent War Economy Under Eisenhower (cf. March–April 1953 issue of The New International, p. 97) an enormous amount of capital accumulation since the end of World War II. Productive capacity, therefore, is still increasing at a goodly rate and there is, as yet, no sign of any significant downturn in the accumulation of capital, as can be seen from the following tabulation covering the last seven quarters. NET PRIVATE CAPITAL FORMATION, 1952–1953, by Quarters (Billions of Dollars, Seasonally Adjusted at Annual Rates) Year and Quarter Gross Investment Capital Consumption Allowances Net Investment 1952, I Quarter $50.4 $25.7 $24.7 1952, II Quarter 49.6 26.9 22.7 1952, III Quarter 52.3 27.0 25.3 1952, IV Quarter 57.9 28.2 29.7 1953, I Quarter 54.0 28.2 25.8 1953, II Quarter 61.0 29.2 31.8 1953, III Quarter 56.5 29.6 26.9 Source: Survey of Current Business, November 1953. It is true that the second quarter of 1953 represents the peak in capital accumulation, both gross and net. It is much too early, however, to draw conclusions as to whether the downturn in the third quarter will turn out to be mainly an inventory adjustment, or whether it presages a characteristic decline in the traditional cycle of capital accumulation. At the moment, of course, the figures for gross private investment in producers’ durable equipment (new plant and equipment) do not show any recession characteristics. At seasonally adjusted annual rates, the estimates for producers’ durable equipment for the last seven quarters are: Year and Quarter Billions Dollars 1952, I Quarter $25.6 1952, II Quarter 25.6 1952, III Quarter 24.9 1952, IV Quarter 25.5 1953, I Quarter 26.2 1953, II Quarter 26.9 1953, III Quarter 27.1 Obviously, a sizable portion of the gross investment in plant and equipment represents a net increase in productive capacity.

Contained in these figures are the seeds of a typical capitalist crisis of overproduction. But the seeds have not yet germinated. For the time being, the accumulation of real capital keeps pace with the increase in total output. Any drastic curtailment in capital formation would herald the approach of deep-seated capitalist crisis. Under the Permanent War Economy, however, such a development is virtually excluded. And yet, the signs of atrophy, alluded to in The Permanent War Economy Under Eisenhower, multiply. The investment figures cited above are not without interest. They show that capital is apparently being consumed at a faster rate than gross investment increases. Consequently, the increase in net investment is not keeping pace with the increase in gross investment. What seems to be happening is that the increasingly high organic composition of capital results in a larger proportion of output going toward the replacement of constant capital. As we pointed out in the original series of articles, such a trend must necessarily have an adverse impact on the rate of surplus value, and therefore ultimately on the rate of profit. All the evidence points to a reduced rate of profit in 1954. From this, it does not follow, however, that a capitalist crisis is at hand. Parenthetically, it should be observed that as the figures for capital consumption allowances rise, the use of gross national product data is fraught with increasing danger and a larger margin of error. Increasing rates of depreciation and obsolescence may well be symptomatic of rising rates of productivity. They can also give rise to new types of capitalist contradictions and new problems which capitalist state intervention, far from solving, actually accentuates. When estimates of capital consumption reach eight per cent of gross output, as they currently do, it is no longer a problem solely for accountants. Such figures have an economic and political impact. Once five-year amortization of “defense” plants and the excess profits tax are eliminated, it remains to be seen whether “normal” capitalist incentives will be sufficient to maintain the required high rate of investment that a high level equilibrium in the economy apparently requires. Again, it is too early to tell, but the fact remains that between the second and third quarter of 1953 personal savings, as estimated by the Department of Commerce, increased from an annual rate of $17.2 billion to an annual rate of $18.8 billion. An increase of nine per cent in the amount of personal savings would appear to be a very sizable figure, but in view of the dubious residual method by which Commerce derives these estimates too much importance should not be attached to this change. Much larger quarterly changes have been recorded in the recent past, without any undue economic significance. But it is possible that the apparent increase in the amount of personal savings could reflect growing caution on the part of the average consumer as the fear of depression grows. The major factor in tempering any unduly pessimistic forecast of the economic outlook necessarily remains the size, composition and trend of war outlays. In analyzing these data, it will be helpful to have the quarterly figures as presented in the following tabulation. WAR OUTLAYS, 1952–1953, by Quarters AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP TO TOTAL OUTPUT (Dollar Figures in Billions, Seasonally Adjusted at Annual Rates) Year and Quarter Net National Product (1) WAR OUTLAYS Col. (4) as % of Col. (1) (5) Direct (2) Indirect (3) Total (4) 1952, I Quarter $314.7 $43.9 $8.8 $52.7 16.7% 1952, II Quarter 316.4 47.1 9.3 56.4 17.8 1952, III Quarter 319.7 46.4 9.2 55.6 17.4 1952, IV Quarter 331.3 48.6 8.0 56.6 17.1 1953, I Quarter 336.9 49.4 8.6 58.0 17.2 1953, II Quarter 341.5 51.3 9.0 60.3 17.7 1953, III Quarter 339.0 50.4 7.9 58.3 17.2 The net national product figures are derived from Commerce estimates of gross national product and national income. The concepts of war outlays, direct and indirect, remain as heretofore, with the derivation of the figures following the explanation on pages 94–95 of the March–April 1953 issue of The New International. The margin of error in these quarterly estimates cannot be significantly greater than in the annual figures presented in prior articles. The ratio of war outlays to total output, the prime mover in this period of capitalism, has reached a fairly even plateau. During the entire period under review, the extreme variation is to be found between the 16,7 per cent of the first quarter of 1952 and the 17.8 per cent of the second quarter of the same year. This represents a variation of but six per cent at the peak, which is well within the margin of error in the underlying data. A war outlays ratio of 17 per cent is significant, but as it continues at the same level over a period of months, and then of years, it begins to lose some of its impact. The same ratio can no longer sustain the same high level of employment, production and profits. Of course, changes of one-half of one per cent in the ratio, in either direction, may well have a noticeable impact on the equilibrium level, but in their totality such changes are more than offset by the atrophy that begins to set in. The weakening of the impact of war outlays tends to create all sorts of illusions. At one extreme is the notion that war outlays never had anything to do with the high level of activity; hence, it makes little difference if they do decline in the future, as there will be many offsets and “prosperity” will continue.

At the other extreme is the fear that the bottom will drop out of the economy, as if Washington had a completely free hand in determining the level and ratio of war outlays; this point of view, of course, fails to realize that American imperialism had and still has valid political, as well as economic, motives for the adoption of the Permanent War Economy. What has happened, of course, aside from the stretch-out in the “Defense” program begun under Truman, and the truce in the Korean war, is that direct war outlays have kept pace with, and been responsible in large measure for, the rise in total output. Indirect war outlays, however, have leveled off and now tend to decline. The reduction in foreign economic aid, a notable difference in Republican policy as contrasted with that of the Democrats, is chiefly responsible for the falling off in indirect war outlays. If, on top of this, direct war outlays are reduced by $5 billion, as the Republicans now threaten, the consequences could be serious. How much the Eisenhower Administration will reduce direct war outlays, remains to be seen. They may find that it is easier to eliminate agricultural price supports and such “un-American” controls than to reduce the manpower of the armed forces and to convince the American bourgeoisie as a whole that military reliance can be placed on atomic weapons to achieve the necessary degree of safety, as well as to provide the necessary implementation for foreign policy. To be sure, if the plan is to abandon Western Europe to Stalinism, then temporarily a sharp reduction in direct military outlays may be achieved. Granted that the bulk of isolationist tendencies are concentrated within Republican ranks, it is still inconceivable that the Eisenhower Administration is planning to abandon Europe to the tender mercies of Stalinist imperialism. Without such a major change in policy, or the working out of a basic agreement with Stalinist imperialism, the political basis for any sharp reduction in war outlays remains absent. And as long as war outlays remain at 17 per cent of total output, there cannot be a serious depression. ONE OF THE OUTSTANDING EXPONENTS of the view that war outlays have had nothing to do with sustaining a high level of economic activity is W. Woytinsky. Writing in the New Leader of December 7, 1953, Woytinsky states: “My forecast here is based on the belief that the prosperity enjoyed by this country in recent years has not been a Korean War prosperity. It has been rather a period of healthy growth of a vigorous and dynamic economic system, with the benefits of growth widely though unevenly distributed among broad groups of the population.” To label the post-World War II expansion of American capitalism “a period of healthy growth” betrays a singularly acute lack of understanding of the world in which we live. The main prop in Woytinsky’s unique approach to the economic outlook is contained in a paragraph from his prognosis of a year ago (cf. the New Leader, December 8, 1952): “The liquidation of the defense program would mean reorientation of economic activities and a brief spell of hesitation, but by no means a contraction in the total volume of employment and production. The problem will be of the same nature as the demobilization after World War II, but on a much smaller scale. The last demobilization – in the sense of complete reorientation of our economy and readjustment of men released from the armed forces – took two years, and at no time did unemployment rise to 3 million in the period of readjustment. The liquidation of the present defense and rearmament program would take much less time and cause much less frictional unemployment.” (Italics mine – T.N.V.) Of course, there will be no liquidation of the defense program, although some slight reduction in the magnitude of war outlays is not excluded. The adjustment problem, however, in the event of a reduction in war outlays is not only not the same. It is entirely different. At the end of World War II, the ratio of war outlays to total output exceeded 40 per cent. A swift decline took place to the ten per cent level, but the reduction in the production of means of production and consumption during the war meant that there was room for increase in these traditional goals of economic output once the sharp decline began in the production of means of destruction. Hence, there could be no serious depression immediately following the end of World War II. It is obvious that the present situation differs markedly from that which prevailed eight years ago. The current increase (from 1950–1953) in the output of means of destruction has not only riot been accompanied by a decrease in the output of means of production and means of consumption, but has actually witnessed an increase in the production of both capital and consumers’ goods. Woytinsky possesses a remarkably simplistic and mechanical view of the economy, where a drop in one sector must be offset by increases in other sectors. In his 1952 article, quoted above, he asserts: “Whatever goes to the military sector is taken from civilian consumption and capital formation. Whatever is released from the military sector returns to the civilian.” Here we have a modern version of Adam Smith’s “unseen hand” that automatically takes care of the economy and all supporters of capitalism, but somehow fails to eliminate the “unemployment” sector. An effective reply to Woytinsky was given by Seymour E. Harris in the New Leader of December 22, 1952, when he wrote: “I find serious gaps in Dr. Woytinsky’s crystal-gazing. He says not a word about the tremendous investment since 1945. Our capital plant has expanded by 50–60 per cent (in real terms) since 1945. These gains are far beyond what prevailed in the inflationary Twenties. Yet Dr. Woytinsky writes as though, when the Government cuts its spending on armament by 20 billion dollars or so, part of the slack will be taken up by business. A more realistic view would be that the decline of Government spending would aggravate a decline in investment.” Harris has put his finger on one of the central problems when he focuses on investment.

He would also appear to be more realistic than Woytinsky in appraising the possibilities of government investments as offsets to declining war outlays. He states: “It is this failure to suggest the alternatives that leaves me cool to Dr. Woytinsky’s astrology. His assumption of gains in investment seems unrealistic. His suggestion that Government will substitute investments of various kinds for military outlays also is unsupportable. A Democratic regime, supported by an ideology favorable to deficit financing, was not prepared after twenty years of rule to present a catalogue of investment adequate to do this job; and even if it had, it was confronted with strong opposition. Does Dr. Woytinsky mean to imply that the Republican Administration will be more disposed to plan for Government intervention when military expenditures fall and thus to fill the gap? It is possible, but certainly not likely.” After pointing out that tax reduction is the more likely response to a cut in military outlays, and that tax reduction can have only a limited stimulus on demand. Harris concludes his refutation of Woytinsky: “In summary, the signs point to a business recession in 1953 or 1954 – unless the war is extended. Dr. Woytinsky does not seem concerned over the possibility of adequate demand even if the whole military program is scrapped. He seems to believe that tax reduction and pent-up demand (compared by Dr. Woytinsky with the 1946 situation, and wrongly so) will solve our problem.” Woytinsky returns to the economic hustings in his Economic Forecast for 1954, the title of his current article, quoted above, with a modification of his “changing sector” theory of the previous year. This might be called the “excess fat” theory, for he states: “Our economy has accumulated such an amount of fat and muscle that it is hard to visualize its temporary contraction to a level that would spell out a ‘mild recession’ such as contemplated a year ago. This is said even while giving full weight to at least four problems which have often been mentioned as presaging a downturn. These are the position of the farmer, possible cuts in defense expenditures, a new economic philosophy in Washington, and possible reorientation of foreign-trade policy.” Apparently, Woytinsky is not up on the latest dietary theories, for the “excess fat” represents as much of a danger as it does a cushion. Moreover, the extra weight would seem to consist mainly of “fat” rather than of “muscle.” Unemployment caused by declines in production from peak levels is just as real to those who are placed in the category of surplus labor as unemployment that develops from a lower production base. An increase of unemployment from one million to five million may not be as catastrophic in its impact as an increase from five million to nine million, but it is still serious and would certainly constitute at least a “mild” recession. “The cut in defense expenditures as a source of contraction of purchasing power is, to a large extent,” according to Woytinsky, “a bogey man in the modern folklore of business forecasting. The cut of $5 billion in the requested appropriation does not imply that Government purchases in 1954 will be substantially reduced in comparison with 1953. The real volume of purchases will depend partly on changes in prices, partly on political developments which may call for new appropriations. As things look now, total Government expenditures may decline by $2 billion or $3 billion or increase by a similar or larger amount.” In other words, Woytinsky is not especially concerned with a projected cut in war outlays – not because “prosperity is independent of the level of war outlays” as was his position a year ago, but because there won’t be a real cut in 1954. Besides, if there is a real cut, there is plenty of fat, so it won’t be serious. And, if the “excess fat” theory doesn’t work, then there may be “political developments which may call for new appropriations.” If war expenditures are not present in sufficient volume to prevent a recession, then there will be other types of government expenditures. Woytinsky is convinced that the economy will continue to expand in 1954, and he will find a theory to support that point of view, even if he has to alter or repudiate his earlier theories. MEANWHILE, THE EISENHOWER ADMINISTRATION is displaying signs of worry about the economic outlook. Some months ago, apparently fearful that official indexes would be too slow in heralding a downswing, it was announced that economic “watchdogs” were being appointed in various areas. Apparently, certain officials in large corporations, and perhaps even in trade unions, were to be deputized with titles which gave them the responsibility of notifying Washington immediately upon learning that a factory planned to curtail or cease production, or that overtime was being reduced. What, if anything, has been done to implement this rather novel idea is not known to us, but the new line of the Administration is presumably authoritatively revealed in a front-page article in the New York Times of December 21, 1953. Under the headline, U.S. Acting to Meet Any Slide in Business, Washington reporter Joseph A. Loftus writes: The Administration is facing up to the possibility of a 1954 slide in business and employment. At the same time, Administration sources express confidence that the outlook now is good. A realistic view of economic conditions, and some of the available remedies, if any are needed, will be discussed in the annual report of the Council of Economic Advisers and in the President’s Economic Message to Congress next month. While these reports are expected to deal candidly with the situation, they are not expected to blueprint anti-recession plans. The reason no firm, plans can be laid, according to informed official opinion, is that nobody can say in advance what the economic ailment, if any, will be, and therefore none of the economic doctors can prescribe a specific medicine. [Sic!] Rather, a line of thinking will be offered, and the standbys that are available, or should be made available, to counter a recession will be discussed.

Stimulation of private capital will be accented, it is understood. One form of business encouragement would be the enactment of lease-purchase legislation under which local money would be used to build needed Federal buildings throughout the country. The Federal Government would pay for the buildings in rent over fifteen to twenty-five year periods and become the eventual owner. A $15,000,000,000 Federal public works list, some of it blueprinted, also is available as a business stimulant, if necessary. Another great source of potential economic activity is state and local works programs. Many state and local projects have been long deferred, although this type of construction has shown a substantial rise lately. Consideration of anti-recession plans is dictated by prudence and a recognition that some business men, although perhaps a minority, and some of our Allies, are a bit jittery about business prospects. Officials say there is evidence that the country is gong through an economic adjustment, possibly because of a reduction being made in business inventories, as in 1949. None of the economic indicators shows a severe readjustment now, or foreshadows one in the coming year, except as psychological behavior might make it so, it is held. The factors militating against a serious slide in business are said to include these: Government spending will continue high ... spending for new plant and equipment in the first quarter of 1954 reveals a total almost as high as in the current quarter ... Employment and personal income are extraordinarily high; so are personal savings ... Dr. Arthur F. Burns, chairman of the President’s Council of Economic Advisers, told the American Conference on Economic Security, Nov. 7, that the council already had gone ‘some distance’ in preparing recommendations to cushion an economic decline. He said that the standbys under study included measures to ease home building and repairs, further changes in the tax program, revisions in the unemployment insurance system and, if necessary, large scale public works. (Italics mine – T.N.V.) There then follows a list of construction projects that could be taken off the shelf. It is impossible, however, to escape the conclusion that the mountain has labored and brought forth a mouse. The “anti-recession” plans of the Eisenhower Administration are reminiscent of those of the Hoover Administration. They consist chiefly of issuing optimistic statements, reinforced by those of their big business partners, that everything is fine and will so remain in this best of all possible worlds. As Stevenson put it in his December 12th speech: “... I don’t know for certain whether we can talk our way into a business recession. But I do know that talk alone won’t prevent a depression or cure it either. The Republicans cleared up that question for us some twenty years ago.” THE FEAR OF DEPRESSION IS REAL and tangible. It is not borne solely out of long memories or out of political malice. It has its roots in the softening that is clearly taking place throughout the major sectors of the economy. Expectations, especially those of business men, are grounded in such material things as current and future prospects for sales and profits. Psychological behavior cannot create a depression, although if it becomes evident that Washington is not prepared to do more than talk about “anti-recession plans,” existing deflationary forces will undoubtedly be strengthened. The rather disconcerting economic outlook is producing a sharp conflict within Republican ranks. The business men seem to be primarily concerned with looting the public treasury and presumably are not averse to a mild recession and a few millions of unemployment. The politicians, on other hand, have to worry about getting re-elected and maintaining their rather tenuous hold on Congress. The latter group must press for increasing state intervention, even if that runs counter to announced Republican policy. Just as Republican policy toward the farmers had to be radically reversed, with all major campaign pledges to eliminate price supports, etc., repudiated, we may well find that the politicians will prevail and the state will do its best to prevent unemployment from developing on the eve of an election. Eisenhower’s balanced budget could well go the way of its eminent predecessor, the Roosevelt balanced budget. Under such conditions, and with a major assist from the new rulers of the Kremlin, the basic economic and political motivations for the existence of the Permanent War Economy continue to operate. So long as the fear of Stalinism and war continue to dominate the political scene, the fear of depression cannot dominate the economic outlook, although it is a factor that politicians will ignore at their peril. December 1953 Top of page Vance Archive | Trotskyist Writers Index | ETOL Main Page Last updated: 27 February 2019

Ernst Mach (1886, revised to 1905) The Analysis of Sensations and the Relation of the Physical to the Psychical Source: The Analysis of Sensations (1897). Dover Edition, 1959; Translation: by C M Williams and Sydney Waterlow; First Chapter reproduced here. I. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS: ANTI METAPHYSICAL. 1. THE great results achieved by physical science in modern times - results not restricted to its own sphere but embracing that of other sciences which employ its help - have brought it about that physical ways of thinking and physical modes of procedure enjoy on all hands unwonted prominence, and that the greatest expectations are associated with their application. In keeping with this drift of modern inquiry, the physiology of the senses, gradually abandoning the method of investigating sensations in themselves followed by men like Goethe, Schopenhauer, and others, but with greatest success by Johannes Muller, has also assumed an almost exclusively physical character. This tendency must appear to us as not altogether appropriate, when we reflect that physics, despite its considerable development, nevertheless constitutes but a portion of a larger collective body of knowledge, and that it is unable, with its limited intellectual implements, created for limited and special purposes, to exhaust all the subject-matter in question. Without renouncing the support of physics, it is possible for the physiology of the senses, not only to pursue its own course of development, but also to afford to physical science itself powerful assistance. The following simple considerations will serve to illustrate this relation between the two. 2. Colours, sounds, temperatures, pressures, spaces, times, and so forth, are connected with one another in manifold ways; and with them are associated dispositions of mind, feelings, and volitions. Out of this fabric, that which is relatively more fixed and permanent stands prominently forth, engraves itself on the memory, and expresses itself in language. Relatively greater permanency is exhibited, first, by certain complexes of colours, sounds, pressures, and so forth, functionally connected in time and space, which therefore receive special names, and are called bodies. Absolutely permanent such complexes are not. My table is now brightly, now dimly lighted. Its temperature varies. It may receive an ink stain. One of its legs may be broken. It may be repaired, polished, and replaced part by part. But, for me, it remains the table at which I daily write. My friend may put on a different coat. His countenance may assume a serious or a cheerful expression. His complexion, under the effects of light or emotion, may change. His shape may be altered by motion, or be definitely changed. Yet the number of the permanent features presented, compared with the number of the gradual alterations, is always so great, that the latter may be overlooked. It is the same friend with whom I take my daily walk. My coat may receive a stain, a tear. My very manner of expressing this shows that we are concerned here with a sum-total of permanency, to which the new element is added and from which that which is lacking is subsequently taken away. Our greater intimacy with this sum-total of permanency, and the preponderance of its importance for me as contrasted with the changeable element, impel us to the partly instinctive, partly voluntary and conscious economy of mental presentation and designation, as expressed in ordinary thought and speech. That which is presented in a single image receives a single designation, a single name. Further, that complex of memories, moods, and feelings, joined to a particular body (the human body), which is called the "I" or "Ego," manifests itself as relatively permanent. I may be engaged upon this or that subject, I may be quiet and cheerful, excited and ill-humoured. Yet, pathological cases apart, enough durable features remain to identify the ego. Of course, the ego also is only of relative permanency. The apparent permanency of the ego consists chiefly in the single fact of its continuity, in the slowness of its changes. The many thoughts and plans of yesterday that are continued today, and of which our environment in waking hours incessantly reminds us (whence in dreams the ego can be very indistinct, doubled, or entirely wanting), and the little habits that are unconsciously and involuntarily kept up for long periods of time, constitute the groundwork of the ego. There can hardly be greater differences in the egos of different people, than occur in the course of years in one person. When I recall today my early youth, I should take the boy that I then was, with the exception of a few individual features, for a different person, were it not for the existence of the chain of memories. Many an article that I myself penned twenty years ago impresses me now as something quite foreign to myself. The very gradual character of the changes of the body also contributes to the stability of the ego, but in a much less degree than people imagine. Such things are much less analysed and noticed than the intellectual and the moral ego. Personally, people know themselves very poorly. When I wrote these lines in 1886, Ribot's admirable little book, The Diseases of Personality (second edition, Paris, 1888, Chicago, 1895), was unknown to me. Ribot ascribes the principal role in preserving the continuity of the ego to the general sensibility. Generally, I am in perfect accord with his views. The ego is as little absolutely permanent as are bodies. That which we so much dread in death, the annihilation of our permanency, actually occurs in life in abundant measure. That which is most valued by us, remains preserved in countless copies, or, in cases of exceptional excellence, is even preserved of itself. In the best human being, however, there are individual traits, the loss of which neither he himself nor others need regret. Indeed, at times, death, viewed as a liberation from individuality, may even become a pleasant thought. Such reflections of course do not make physiological death any the easier to bear. After a first survey has been obtained, by the formation of the substance-concepts " body " and " ego " (matter and soul), the will is impelled to a more exact examination of the changes that take place in these relatively permanent existences.

The element of change in bodies and the ego, is in fact, exactly what moves the will I to this examination. Here the component parts of the complex are first exhibited as its properties. A fruit is sweet; but it can also be bitter. Also, other fruits may be sweet. The red colour we are seeking is found in many bodies. The neighbourhood of some bodies is pleasant; that of others, unpleasant. Thus, gradually, different complexes are found to be made up of common elements. The visible, the audible, the tangible, are separated from bodies. The visible is analysed into colours and into form. In the manifoldness of the colours, again, though here fewer in number, other component parts are discerned - such as the primary colours, and so forth. The complexes are disintegrated into elements, that is to say, into their ultimate component parts, which hitherto we have been unable to subdivide any further. The nature of these elements need not be discussed at present; it is possible that future investigations may throw light on it. We need not here be disturbed by the fact that it is easier for the scientist to study relations of relations of these elements than the direct relations between them. 3. The useful habit of designating such relatively permanent compounds by single names, and of apprehending them by single thoughts, without going to the trouble each time of an analysis of their component parts, is apt to come into strange conflict with the tendency to isolate the component parts. The vague image which we have of a given permanent complex, being an image which does not perceptibly change when one or another of the component parts is taken away, seems to be something which exists in itself. Inasmuch as it is possible to take away singly every constituent part without destroying the capacity of the image to stand for the totality and to be recognised again, it is imagined that it is possible to subtract all the parts and to have something still remaining. Thus naturally arises the philosophical notion, at first impressive, but subsequently recognised as monstrous, of a " thing-in-itself," different from its "appearance," and unknowable. Thing, body, matter, are nothing apart from the combinations of the elements, - the colours, sounds, and so forth - nothing apart from their so-called attributes. That protean pseudo-philosophical problem of the single thing with its many attributes, arises wholly from a misinterpretation of the fact, that summary comprehension and precise analysis, although both are provisionally justifiable and for many purposes profitable, cannot be carried on simultaneously. A body is one and unchangeable only so long as it is unnecessary to consider its details. Thus both the earth and a billiard-ball are spheres, if we are willing to neglect all deviations from the spherical form, and if greater precision is not necessary. But when we are obliged to carry on investigations in orography or microscopy, both bodies cease to be spheres. 4. Man is pre-eminently endowed with the power of voluntarily and consciously determining his own point of view. He can at one time disregard the most salient features of an object, and immediately thereafter give attention to its smallest details; now consider a stationary current, without a thought of its contents (whether heat, electricity or fluidity), and then measure the width of a Fraunhofer line in the spectrum; he can rise at will to the most general abstractions or bury himself in the minutest particulars. Animals possess this capacity in a far less degree. They do not assume a point of view, but are usually forced to it by their sense-impressions. The baby that does not know its father with his hat on, the dog that is perplexed at the new coat of its master, have both succumbed in this conflict of points of view. Who has not been worsted in similar plights ? Even the man of philosophy at times succumbs, as the grotesque problem, above referred to, shows. In this last case, the circumstances appear to furnish a real ground of justification. Colours, sounds, and the odours of bodies are evanescent. But their tangibility, as a sort of constant nucleus, not readily susceptible of annihilation, remains behind; appearing as the vehicle of the more fugitive properties attached to it. Habit, thus, keeps our thought firmly attached to this central nucleus, even when we have begun to recognise that seeing hearing, smelling, and touching are intimately akin in character. A further consideration is, that owing to the singularly extensive development of mechanical physics a kind of higher reality is ascribed to the spatial and to the temporal than to colours, sounds, and odours; agreeably to which, the temporal and spatial links of colours, sounds, and odours appear to be more real than the colours, sounds and odours themselves. The physiology of the senses, however, demonstrates, that spaces and times may just as appropriately be called sensations as colours and sounds. But of this later. 5. Not only the relation of bodies to the ego, but the ego itself also, gives rise to similar pseudo - problems, the character of which may be briefly indicated as follows: Let us denote the above-mentioned elements by the letters A B C . . ., X L M . . ., a, b, c . . . Let those complexes of colours, sounds, and so forth, commonly called bodies, be denoted, for the sake of clearness, by A B C . .; the complex, known as our own body, which is a part of the former complexes distinguished by certain peculiarities, may be called K L M . . .; the complex composed of volitions, memory-images, and the rest, we shall represent by a b c . . . Usually, now, the complex a , c . . . K L M. . ., as making up the ego, is opposed to the complex A B C . . ., as making up the world of physical objects;

., as making up the world of physical objects; sometimes also, a b c . . . is viewed as ego, and K L M . . . A B C . . . as world of physical objects. Now, at first blush, A B C . . . appears independent of the ego, and opposed to it as a separate existence. But this independence is only relative, and gives way upon closer inspection. Much, it is true, may change in the complex a b c . . . without much perceptible change being induced in A B C . . .; and vice versa. But many changes in a b c . . . do pass, by way of changes in K L M . . ., to A B C . . .; and vice versa. (As, for example, when powerful ideas burst forth into acts, or when our environment induces noticeable changes in our body.) At the same time the group K L M . . . appears to be more intimately connected with a b c . . . and with A B C . . ., than the latter with one another; and their relations find their expression in common thought and speech. Precisely viewed, however, it appears that the group A B C . . . is always codetermined by K L M. A cube when seen close at hand, looks large; when seen at a distance, small; its appearance to the right eye differs from its appearance to the left; sometimes it appears double; with closed eyes it is invisible. The properties of one and the same body, therefore, appear modified by our own body; they appear conditioned by it. But where, now, is that same body, which appears so different? All that can be said is, that with different K L M different A B C . . . are associated. A common and popular way of thinking and speaking is to contrast " appearance " with " reality." A pencil held in front of us in the air is seen by us as straight; dip it into the water, and we see it crooked. In the latter case we say that the pencil appears crooked, but is in reality straight. But what justifies us in declaring one fact rather than another to be the reality, and degrading the other to the level of appearance ? In both cases we have to do with facts which present us with different combinations of the elements, combinations which in the two cases are differently conditioned. Precisely because of its environment the pencil dipped in water is optically crooked; but it is tactually and metrically straight. An image in a concave or flat mirror is only visible, whereas under other and ordinary circumstances a tangible body as well corresponds to the visible image. A bright surface is brighter beside a dark surface than beside one brighter than itself. To be sure, our expectation is deceived when, not paying sufficient attention to the conditions, and substituting for one another different cases of the combination, we fall into the natural error of expecting what we are accustomed to, although the case may be an unusual one. The facts are not to blame for that.

The facts are not to blame for that. In these cases, to speak of " appearance " may have a practical meaning, but cannot have a scientific meaning. Similarly, the question which is often asked, whether the world is real or whether we merely dream it, is devoid of all scientific meaning. Even the wildest dream is a fact as much as any other. If our dreams were more regular, more connected, more stable, they would also have more practical importance for us. In our waking hours the relations of the elements to one another are immensely amplified in comparison with what they were in our dreams. We recognise the dream for what it is. When the process is reversed, the field of psychic vision is narrowed; the contrast is almost entirely lacking. Where there is no contrast, the distinction between dream and waking, between appearance and reality, is quite otiose and worthless. The popular notion of an antithesis between appearance and reality has exercised a very powerful influence on scientific and philosophical thought. We see this, for example, in Plato's pregnant and poetical fiction of the Cave, in which, with our backs turned towards the fire, we observe merely the shadows of what passes (Republic, vii. 1). But this conception was not thought out to its final consequences, with the result that it has had an unfortunate influence on our ideas about the universe. The universe, of which nevertheless we are a part, became completely separated from us, and was removed an infinite distance away. Similarly, many a young man, hearing for the first time of the refraction of stellar light, has thought that doubt was cast on the whole of astronomy, whereas nothing is required but an easily effected and unimportant correction to put everything right again. 6. We see an object having a point S. If we touch S, that is, bring it into connexion with our body, we receive a prick. We can see S, without feeling the prick. But as soon as we feel the prick we find S on the skin. The visible point, therefore, is a permanent nucleus, to which the prick is annexed, according to circumstances, as something accidental. From the frequency of analogous occurrences we ultimately accustom ourselves to regard all properties of bodies as " effects " proceeding from permanent nuclei and conveyed to the ego through the medium of the body; which effects we call sensations. By this operation, however, these nuclei are deprived of their entire sensory content, and converted into mere mental symbols. The assertion, then, is correct that the world consists only of our sensations. In which case we have knowledge only of sensations, and the assumption of the nuclei referred to, or of a reciprocal action between them, from which sensations proceed, turns out to be quite idle and superfluous. Such a view can only suit with a half-hearted realism or a half-hearted philosophical criticism. 7. Ordinarily the complex a b c . . . K L M . . . is contrasted as ego with the complex A B C . . . At first only those elements of A B C ... that more strongly alter a b c .... as a prick, a pain, are wont to be thought of as comprised in the ego. Afterwards, however, through observations of the kind just referred to, it appears that the right to annex A B C . . . to the ego nowhere ceases. In conformity with this view the ego can be so extended as ultimately to embrace the entire world. The ego is not sharply marked off, its limits are very indefinite and arbitrarily displaceable Only by failing to observe this fact, and by unconsciously narrowing those limits, while at the same time we enlarge them, arise, in the conflict of points of view, the metaphysical difficulties met with in this connexion. As soon as we have perceived that the supposed unities " body " and " ego " are only makeshifts, designed for provisional orientation and for definite practical ends (so that we may take hold of bodies, protect ourselves against pain, and so forth), we find ourselves obliged, in many more advanced scientific investigations, to abandon them as insufficient and inappropriate. The antithesis between ego and world, between sensation (appearance) and thing, then vanishes, and we have simply to deal with the connexion of the elements a b c . . . A B C . . . K L M . . ., of which this antithesis was only a partially appropriate and imperfect expression. This connexion is nothing more or less than the combination of the above-mentioned elements with other similar elements (time and space). Science has simply to accept this connexion, and to get its bearings in it, without at once wanting to explain its existence. On a superficial examination the complex a b c . . . appears to be made up of much more evanescent elements than A B C . . . and K L M . . ., in which last the elements seem to be connected with greater stability and in a more permanent manner (being joined to solid nuclei as it were). Although on closer inspection the elements of all complexes prove to be homogeneous, yet even when this has been recognised, the earlier notion of an antithesis of body and spirit easily slips in again.

Although on closer inspection the elements of all complexes prove to be homogeneous, yet even when this has been recognised, the earlier notion of an antithesis of body and spirit easily slips in again. The philosophical spiritualist is often sensible of the difficulty of imparting the needed solidity to his mind-created world of bodies; the materialist is at a loss when required to endow the world of matter with sensation. The monistic point of view, which reflexion has evolved, is easily clouded by our older and more powerful instinctive notions. 8. The difficulty referred to is particularly felt when we consider the following case. In the complex A B C . . .. which we have called the world of matter, we find as parts, not only our own body K L M . . ., but also the bodies of other persons (or animals) K' L' M' . . , K" L" M" . . .. to which, by analogy, we imagine other a' b' c'..., a" b" c", annexed, similar to a b c . . . So long as we deal with K' L' M' . . ., we find ourselves in a thoroughly familiar province which is at every point accessible to our senses. When, however, we inquire after the sensations or feelings belonging to the body K' L' M' . . ., we no longer find these in the province of sense: we add them in thought. Not only is the domain which we now enter far less familiar to us, but the transition into it is also relatively unsafe. We have the feeling as if we were plunging into an abyss. Persons who adopt this way of thinking only, will never thoroughly rid themselves of that sense of insecurity, which is a very fertile source of illusory problems. But we are not restricted to this course. Let us consider, first, the reciprocal relations of the elements of the complex A B C . . ., without regarding K L M . . . (our body). All physical investigations are of this sort. A white ball falls upon a bell; a sound is heard. The ball turns yellow before a sodium lamp, red before a lithium lamp. Here the elements (A B C . . . ) appear to be connected only with one another and to be independent of our body (K L M . . . ). But if we take santonin, the ball again turns yellow. If we press one eye to the side, we see two balls. If we close our eyes entirely, there is no ball there at all. If we sever the auditory nerve, no sound is heard. The elements =4 B C . . ., therefore, are not only connected with one another, but also with K L M; To this extent, and to this extent only, do we call A B C . . . sensations, and regard A B C as belonging to the ego. In what follows, wherever the reader finds the terms " Sensation," " Sensation-complex," used alongside of or instead of the expressions " element," " complex of elements," it must be borne in mind that it is only in the connexion and relation in question, only in their functional dependence, that the elements are sensations. In another functional relation they are at the same time physical objects. We only use the additional term " sensations" to describe the elements, because most people are much more familiar with the elements in question as sensations (colours, sounds, pressures, spaces, times, etc.), while according to the popular conception it is particles of mass that are considered as physical elements, to which the elements, in the sense here used, are attached as " properties " or " effects.". In this way, accordingly, we do not find the gap between bodies and sensations above described, between what is without and what is within, between the material world and the spiritual world. All elements A B C . . ., K L M. . .. constitute a single coherent mass only, in which, when any one element is disturbed, all is put in motion; except that a disturbance in K, L M, . .

. . has a more extensive and profound action than one in A B C . . . A magnet in our neighbourhood disturbs the particles of iron near it; a falling boulder shakes the earth; but the severing of a nerve sets in motion the whole system of elements. Quite involuntarily does this relation of things suggest the picture of a viscous mass, at certain places (as in the ego) more firmly coherent than in others. I have often made use of this image in lectures. 9. Thus the great gulf between physical and psychological research persists only when we acquiesce in our habitual stereotyped conceptions. A colour is a physical object as soon as we consider its dependence, for instance, upon its luminous source, upon other colours, upon temperatures, upon spaces, and so forth. When we consider, however, its dependence upon the retina (the elements K L M. . .), it is a psychological object, a sensation. Not the subject matter, but the direction of our investigation, is different in the two domains. (Cp. also Chapter II., pp. 43, 44.) Both in reasoning from the observation of the bodies of other men or animals, to the sensations which they possess, as well as in investigating the influence of our own body upon our own sensations, we have to complete observed facts by analogy. This is accomplished with much greater ease and certainty, when it relates, say, only to nervous processes, which cannot be fully observed in our own bodies - that is, when it is carried out in the more familiar physical domain - than when it is extended to the psychical domain, to the sensations and thoughts of other people. Otherwise there is no essential difference. 10. The considerations just advanced, expressed as they have been in an abstract form, will gain in strength and vividness if we consider the concrete facts from which they flow. Thus, I lie upon my sofa. If I close my right eye, the picture represented in the accompanying cut is presented to my left eye In a frame formed by the ridge of my eyebrow, by my nose, and by my moustache, appears a part of my body, so far as visible, with its environment. My body differs from other human bodies - beyond the fact that every intense motor idea is immediately expressed by a movement of it, and that, if it is touched, more striking changes are determined than if other bodies are touched - by the circumstance, that it is only seen piecemeal, and, especially, is seen without a head. If I observe an element A within my field of vision, and investigate its connexion with another element B within the same field, I step out of the domain of physics into that of physiology or psychology, provided B, to use the apposite expression of a friend of mine made upon seeing this drawing, passes through my skin. Reflexions like that for the field of vision may be made with regard to the province of touch and the perceptual domains of the other senses. 11. Reference has already been made to the different character of the groups of elements denoted by A B C . . . and a b c . . . As a matter of fact, when we see a green tree before us, or remember a green tree, that is, represent a green tree to ourselves, we are perfectly aware of the difference of the two cases. The represented tree has a much less determinate, a much more changeable form; its green is much paler and more evanescent; and, what is of especial note, it plainly appears in a different domain. A movement that we will to execute is never more than a represented movement, and appears in a different domain from that of the executed movement, which always takes place when the image is vivid enough. Now the statement that the elements A and a appear in different domains, means, if we go to the bottom of it, simply this, that these elements are united with different other elements. Thus far, therefore, the fundamental constituents of A B C . . .. a b c . . . would seem to be the same (colours, sounds, spaces, times, motor sensations . . .), and only the character of their connexion different. Ordinarily pleasure and pain are regarded as different from sensations. Yet not only tactual sensations, but all other kinds of sensations, may pass gradually into pleasure and pain. Pleasure and pain also may be justly termed sensations. Only they are not so well analysed and so familiar, nor, perhaps, limited to so few organs as the common sensations. In fact, sensations of pleasure and pain, however faint they may be, really constitute an essential part of the content of all so-called emotions. Any additional element that emerges into consciousness when we are under the- influence of emotions may be described as more or less diffused and not sharply localised sensations. William James, and after him Theodule Ribot, have investigated the physiological mechanism of the emotions: they hold that what is essential is purposive tendencies of the body to action - tendencies which correspond to circumstances and are expressed in the organism. Only a part of these emerges into consciousness. We are sad because we shed tears, and not vice versa, says James. And Ribot justly observes that a cause of the backward state of our knowledge of the emotions is that we have always confined our observation to so much of these physiological processes as emerges into consciousness. At the same time he goes too far when he maintains that everything psychical is merely "surajoute" to the physical, and that it is only the physical that produces effects. For us this distinction is non-existent. Thus, perceptions, presentations, volitions, and emotions, in short the whole inner and outer world, are put together, in combinations of varying evanescence and permanence, out of a small number of homogeneous elements. Usually, these elements are called sensations. But as vestiges of a one-sided theory inhere in that term, we prefer to speak simply of elements, as we have already done. The aim of all research is to ascertain the mode of connexion of these elements. If it proves impossible to solve the problem by assuming one set of such elements, then more than one will have to be assumed. But for the questions under discussion it would be improper to begin by making complicated assumptions in advance.

But for the questions under discussion it would be improper to begin by making complicated assumptions in advance. 12. That in this complex of elements, which fundamentally is only one, the boundaries of bodies and of the ego do not admit of being established in a manner definite and sufficient for all cases, has already been remarked. To bring together elements that are most intimately connected with pleasure and pain into one ideal mental-economical unity, the ego; this is a task of the highest importance for the intellect working in the service of the pain-avoiding, pleasure-seeking will. The delimitation of the ego, therefore, is instinctively effected, is rendered familiar, and possibly becomes fixed through heredity. Owing to their high practical importance, not only for the individual, but for the entire species, the composites " ego " and " body " instinctively make good their claims, and assert themselves with elementary force. In special cases, however, in which practical ends are not concerned, but where knowledge is an end in itself, the delimitation in question may prove to be insufficient, obstructive, and untenable. Similarly, class-consciousness, class-prejudice, the feeling of nationality, and even the narrowest-minded local patriotism may have a high importance, for certain purposes. But such attitudes will not be shared by the broad-minded investigator, at least not in moments of research. All such egoistic views are adequate only for practical purposes. Of course, even the investigator may succumb to habit. Trifling pedantries and nonsensical discussions; the cunning appropriation of others' thoughts, with perfidious silence as to the sources; when the word of recognition must be given, the difficulty of swallowing one's defeat, and the too common eagerness at the same time to set the opponent's achievement in a false light: all this abundantly shows that the scientist and scholar have also the battle of existence to fight, that the ways even of science still lead to the mouth, and that the pure impulse towards knowledge is still an ideal in our present social conditions. The primary fact is not the ego, but the elements (sensations). What was said on p. 21 as to the term " sensation " must be borne in mind. The elements constitute the I. s have the sensation green, signifies that the element green occurs in a given complex of other elements (sensations, memories). When I cease to have the sensation green, when I die, then the elements no longer occur in the ordinary, familiar association. That is all. Only an ideal mental-economical unity, not a real unity, has ceased to exist. The ego is not a definite, unalterable, sharply bounded unity. None of these attributes are important; for all vary even within the sphere of individual life; in fact their alteration is even sought after by the individual. Continuity alone is important. This view accords admirably with the position which Weismann has reached by biological investigations. ("Zur Frage der Unsterblichkeit der Einzelligen," Biolog Centralbl., Vol. IV., Nos. 21, 22; compare especially pages 654 and 655, where the scission of the individual into two equal halves is spoken of.) But continuity is only a means of preparing and conserving what is contained in the ego. This content, and not the ego, is the principal thing. This content, however, is not confined to the individual. With the exception of some insignificant and valueless personal memories, it remains presented in others even after the death of the individual. The elements that make up the consciousness of a given individual are firmly connected with one another, but with those of another individual they are only feebly connected, and the connexion is only casually apparent. Contents of consciousness, however, that are of universal significance, break through these limits of the individual, and, attached of course to individuals again, can enjoy a continued existence of an impersonal, superpersonal kind, independently of the personality by means of which they were developed. To contribute to this is the greatest happiness of the artist, the scientist, the inventor, the social reformer, etc. The ego must be given up. It is partly the perception of this fact, partly the fear of it, that has given rise to the many extravagances of pessimism and optimism, and to numerous religious, ascetic, and philosophical absurdities. In the long run we shall not be able to close our eyes to this simple truth, which is the immediate outcome of psychological analysis. We shall then no longer place so high a value upon the ego, which even during the individual life greatly changes, and which, in sleep or during absorption in some idea, just in our very happiest moments, may be partially or wholly absent. We shall then be willing to renounce individual immortality,' and not place more value upon the subsidiary elements than upon the principal ones. In this way we shall arrive at a freer and more enlightened view of life, which will preclude the disregard of other egos and the overestimation of our own. The ethical ideal founded on this view of life will be equally far removed from the ideal of the ascetic, which is not biologically tenable for whoever practises it, and vanishes at once with his disappearance, and from the ideal of an overweening Nietzschean "superman," who cannot, and I hope will not be tolerated by his fellow-men. If a knowledge of the connexion of the elements (sensations) does not suffice us, and we ask, Who possesses this connexion of sensations, Who experiences it ? then we have succumbed to the old habit of subsuming every element (every sensation) under some unanalysed complex, and we are falling back imperceptibly upon an older, lower, and more limited point of view. It is often pointed out, that a psychical experience which is not the experience of a determinate subject is unthinkable, and it is held that in this way the essential part played by the unity of consciousness has been demonstrated. But the Ego-consciousness can be of many different degrees and composed of a multiplicity of chance memories. One might just as well say that a physical process which does not take place in some environment or other, or at least somewhere in the universe, is unthinkable.

In both cases, in order to make a beginning with our investigation, we must be allowed to abstract from the environment, which, as regards its influence, may be very different in different cases, and in special cases may shrink to a minimum. Consider the sensations of the lower animals, to which a subject with definite features can hardly be ascribed. It is out of sensations that the subject is built up, and, once built up, no doubt the subject reacts in turn on the sensations. The habit of treating the unanalysed ego complex as an indiscerptible unity frequently assumes in science remarkable forms. First, the nervous system is separated from the body as the seat of the sensations. In the nervous system again, the brain is selected as the organ best fitted for this end, and finally, to save the supposed psychical unity, a point is sought in the brain as the seat of the soul. But such crude conceptions are hardly fit even to foreshadow the roughest outlines of what future research will do for the connexion of the physical and the psychical. The fact that the different organs and parts of the nervous system are physically connected with, and can be readily excited by, one another, is probably at the bottom of the notion of "psychical unity." I once heard the question seriously discussed, "How the perception of a large tree could find room in the little head of a man?)' Now, although this "problem " is no problem, yet it renders us vividly sensible of the absurdity that can be committed by thinking sensations spatially into the brain. When I speak of the sensations of another person, those sensations are, of course, not exhibited in my optical or physical space; they are mentally added, and I conceive them causally, not spatially, attached to the brain observed, or rather, functionally presented. When I speak of my own sensations, these sensations do not exist spatially in my head, but rather my "head" shares with them the same spatial field, as was explained above. (Compare the remarks on Fig. I on pp. I7-I9 above.). The unity of consciousness is not an argument in point. Since the apparent antithesis between the real world and the world given through the senses lies entirely in our mode of view, and no actual gulf exists between them, a complicated and variously interconnected content of consciousness is no more difficult to understand than is the complicated interconnection of the world. If we regard the ego as a real unity, we become involved in the following dilemma: either we must set over against the ego a world of unknowable entities (which would be quite idle and purposeless), or we must regard the whole world, the egos of other people included, as comprised in our own ego (a proposition to which it is difficult to yield serious assent). But if we take the ego simply as a practical unity, put together for purposes of provisional survey, or as a more strongly cohering group of elements, less strongly connected with other groups of this kind, questions like those above discussed will not arise, and research will have an unobstructed future. In his philosophical notes Lichtenberg says: " We become conscious of certain presentations that are not dependent upon us; of others that we at least think are dependent upon us. Where is the border-line? We know only the existence of our sensations, presentations, and thoughts. We should say, It thinks, just as we say, It lightens. It is going too far to say cogito, if we translate cogito by I think. The assumption, or postulation, of the ego is a mere practical necessity." Though the method by which Lichtenberg arrived at this result is somewhat different from ours, we must nevertheless give our full assent to his conclusion. 13. Bodies do not produce sensations, but complexes of elements (complexes of sensations) make up bodies. If, to the physicist, bodies appear the real, abiding existences, whilst the " elements " are regarded merely as their evanescent, transitory appearance, the physicist forgets, in the assumption of such a view, that all bodies are but thought-symbols for complexes of elements (complexes of sensations). Here, too, the elements in question form the real, immediate, and ultimate foundation, which it is the task of physiologico-physical research to investigate. By the recognition of this fact, many points of physiology and physics assume more distinct and more economical forms, and many spurious problems are disposed of. For us, therefore, the world does not consist of mysterious entities, which by their interaction with another, equally mysterious entity, the ego, produce sensations, which alone are accessible. For us, colours, sounds, spaces, times, . . . are provisionally the ultimate elements, whose given connexion it is our business to investigate. [I have always felt it as a stroke of special good fortune, that early in life, at about the age of fifteen, I lighted, in the library of my father, on a copy of Kant's Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysics. The book made at the time a powerful and ineffaceable impression upon me, the like of which I never afterwards experienced in any of my philosophical reading. Some two or three years later the superfluity of the role played by "the thing in itself" abruptly dawned upon me. On a bright summer day in the open air, the world with my ego suddenly appeared to me as one coherent mass of sensations, only more strongly coherent in the ego. Although the actual working out of this thought did not occur until a later period, yet this moment was decisive for my whole view. I had still to struggle long and hard before I was able to retain the new conception in my special subject. With the valuable parts of physical theories we necessarily absorb a good dose of false metaphysics, which it is very difficult to sift out from what deserves to be preserved, especially when those theories have become very familiar to us. At times, too, the traditional, instinctive views would arise with great power and place impediments in my way. Only by alternate studies in physics and in the physiology of the senses, and by historico-physical investigations (since about 1863), and after having endeavoured in vain to settle the conflict by a physico-psychological monadology (in my lectures on psycho-physics, in the Zeitschrift fur praktische Heilkunde, Vienna, 1863, p.

364), have I attained to any considerable stability in my views. I make no pretensions to the title of philosopher. I only seek to adopt in physics a point of view that need not be changed the moment our glance is carried over into the domain of another science; for, ultimately, all must form one whole. The molecular physics of today certainly does not meet this requirement. What I say I have probably not been the first to say. I also do not wish to offer this exposition of mine as a special achievement. It is rather my belief that every one will be led to a similar view, who makes a careful survey of any extensive body of knowledge. Avenarius, with whose works I became acquainted in 1883, approaches my point of view (Philosophie als Denken des Welt nach dem Princip des kleinsten Kraftmasses, 1876). Also Hering, in his paper on Memory (Almanach der Wiener Akademie, 1870, p. 258; English translation, O. C. Pub. Co., Chicago, 4th edition, enlarged, 1913), and J. Popper in his beautiful book, Das Rechte zu leben und die Pflicht zu sterben (Leipzig, 1878, p. 62), have advanced allied thoughts. Compare also my paper Ueber die okonomische Natur der physikalis der Forschung (Almanach der WienerAkadernie, 1882, p. 179, note; English translation in my Popular Scientific Lectures, Chicago, 1894). Finally let me also refer here to the introduction to W. Preyer's Reine Empfindungslehres to Riehl's Freibrurger Antrittsrede, p. 40, and to R. Wahle's Gehirn und Bewusstsein, 1884. My views were indicated briefly in 1872 and 1875, and not expounded at length until 1882 and 1883. I should probably have much additional matter to cite as more or less allied to this line of thought, if my knowledge of the literature were more extensive.] It is precisely in this that the exploration of reality consists. In this investigation we must not allow ourselves to be impeded by such abridgments and delimitations as body, ego, matter, spirit, etc., which have been formed for special, practical purposes and with wholly provisional and limited ends in view. On the contrary, the fittest forms of thought must be created in and by that research itself, just as is done in every special science. In place of the traditional, instinctive ways of thought, a freer, fresher view, conforming to developed experience, and reaching out beyond the requirements of practical life, must be substituted throughout. 14. Science always has its origin in the adaptation of thought to some definite field of experience. The results of the adaptation are thought-elements, which are able to represent the whole field. The outcome, of course, is different, according to the character and extent of the field. If the field of experience is enlarged, or if several fields heretofore disconnected are united, the traditional, familiar thought-elements no longer suffice for the extended field. In the struggle of acquired habit with the effort after adaptation, problems arise, which disappear when the adaptation is perfected, to make room for others which have arisen meanwhile. To the physicist, qua physicist, the idea of "body" is productive of a real facilitation of view, and is not the cause of disturbance. So, also, the person with purely practical aims, is materially supported by the idea of the I or ego. For, unquestionably, every form of thought that has been designedly or undesignedly constructed for a given purpose, possesses for that purpose a permanent value. When, however, physics and psychology meet, the ideas held in the one domain prove to be untenable in the other. From the attempt at mutual adaptation arise the various atomic and monadistic theories - which, however, never attain their end. If we regard sensations, in the sense above defined (p. 13), as the elements of the world, the problems referred to appear to be disposed of in all essentials, and the first and most important adaptation to be consequently effected. This fundamental view (without any pretension to being a philosophy for all eternity) can at present be adhered to in all fields of experience; it is consequently the one that accommodates itself with the least expenditure of energy, that is, more economically than any other, to the present temporary collective state of knowledge Furthermore, in the consciousness of its purely economical function, this fundamental view is eminently tolerant. It does not obtrude itself into fields in which the current conceptions are still adequate. It is also ever ready, upon subsequent extensions of the field of experience, to give way before a better conception. The presentations and conceptions of the average man of the world are formed and dominated, not by the full and pure desire for knowledge as an end in itself, but by the struggle to adapt himself favourably to the conditions of life. Consequently they are less exact, but at the same time also they are preserved from the monstrosities which easily result from a one-sided and impassioned pursuit of a scientific or philosophical point of view. The unprejudiced man of normal psychological development takes the elements which we have called A B C . . . to be spatially contiguous and external to the elements K L M. . .. and he holds this view immediately, and not by any process of psychological projection or logical inference or construction; even were such a process to exist, he would certainly not be conscious of it. He sees, then, an " external world " A B C . . . different from his body K L M . and existing outside it. As he does not observe at first the dependence of the A B C's . . . on the K L M's . . . (which are always repeating themselves in the same way and consequently receive little attention), but is always dwelling upon the fixed connexion of the A B C's . .

. . with one another, there appears to him a world of things independent of his Ego. This Ego is formed by the observation of the special properties of the particular thing K L M . . . with which pain, pleasure, feeling, will, etc., are intimately connected. Further, he notices things K' L' M', K" L" M", which behave in a manner perfectly analogous to K L M, and whose behaviour he thoroughly understands as soon as he has thought of analogous feelings, sensations, etc., as attached to them in the same way as he observed these feelings, sensations, etc., to be attached to himself. The analogy impelling him to this result is the same as determines him, when he has observed that a wire possesses all the properties of a conductor charged with an electric current, except one which has not yet been directly demonstrated, to conclude that the wire possesses this one property as well. Thus, since he does not perceive the sensations of his fellowmen or of animals but only supplies them by analogy, while he infers from the behaviour of his fellow-men that they are in the same position over against himself, he is led to ascribe to the sensations, memories, etc., a particular A B C . . . K L M . . . of a different nature, always differently conceived according to the degree of civilisation he has reached; but this process, as was shown above, is unnecessary, and in science leads into a maze of error, although the falsification is of small significance for practical life. These factors, determining as they do the intellectual outlook of the plain man, make their appearance alternately in him according to the requirements of practical life for the time being, and persist in a state of nearly stable equilibrium. The scientific conception of the world, however, puts the emphasis now upon one, now upon the other factor, makes sometimes one and sometimes the other its starting-point, and, in its struggle for greater precision, unity and consistency, tries, so far as seems possible, to thrust into the background all but the most indispensable conceptions. In this way dualistic and monistic systems arise. The plain man is familiar with blindness and deafness, and knows from his everyday experience that the look of things is influenced by his senses; but it never occurs to him to regard the whole world as the creation of his senses. He would find an idealistic system, or such a monstrosity as solipsism, intolerable in practice. It may easily become a disturbing element in unprejudiced scientific theorising when a conception which is adapted to a particular and strictly limited purpose is promoted in advance to be the foundation of all investigation. This happens, for example, when all experiences are regarded as " effects " of an external world extending into consciousness. This conception gives us a tangle of metaphysical difficulties which it seems impossible to unravel. But the spectre vanishes at once when we look at the matter as it were in a mathematical light, and make it clear to ourselves that all that is valuable to us is the discovery of functional relations, and that what we want to know is merely the dependence of experiences or one another. It then becomes obvious that the reference to unknown fundamental variables which are not given (things-in-themselves) is purely fictitious and superfluous. But even when we allow this fiction, uneconomical though it be, to stand at first, we can still easily distinguish different classes of the mutual dependence of the elements of " the facts of consciousness "; and this alone is important for us. A B C . . . K L M a b c . . . K' L' M' ... a' b' c' .. K" L" M"... a" B" C" The system of the elements is indicated in the above scheme. Within the space surrounded by a single line lie the elements which belong to the sensible world, - the elements whose regular connexion and peculiar dependence on one another represent both physical (lifeless) bodies and the bodies of men, animals and plants. All these elements, again, stand in a relation of quite peculiar dependence to certain of the elements K L M - the nerves of our body, namely - by which the facts of sense-physiology are expressed. The space surrounded by a double line contains the elements belonging to the higher psychic life, memory-images and presentations, including those which we form of the psychic life of our fellow-men. These may be distinguished by accents. These presentations, again, are connected with one another in a different way (association, fancy) from the sensational elements A B C . . . K L M; but it cannot be doubted that they are very closely allied to the latter, and that in the last resort their behaviour is determined by A B C . . . K L M (the totality of the physical world), and especially by our body and nervous system. The presentations a' b' c' of the contents of the consciousness of our fellow-men play for us the part of intermediate substitutions, by means of which the behaviour of our fellow-men, - the functional relation of K' L' M' to A B C - becomes intelligible, in so far as in and for itself (physically) it would remain unexplained. It is therefore important for us to recognise that in all questions in this connexion, which can be intelligibly asked and which can interest us, everything turns on taking into consideration different ultimate variables and different relations of dependence. That is the main point. Nothing will be changed in the actual facts or in the functional relations, whether we regard all the data as contents of consciousness, or as partially so, or as completely physical. The biological task of science is to provide the fully developed human individual with as perfect a means of orientating himself as possible. No other scientific ideal can be realised, and any other must be meaningless. The philosophical point of view of the average man - if that term may be applied to his naive realism - has a claim to the highest consideration. It has arisen in the process of immeasurable time without the intentional assistance of man. It is a product of nature, and is preserved by nature. Everything that philosophy has accomplished - though we may admit the biological justification of every advance, nay, of every error - is, as compared with it, but an insignificant and ephemeral product of art. The fact is, every thinker, every philosopher, the moment he is forced to abandon his one-sided intellectual occupation by practical necessity, immediately returns to the general point of view of mankind.

Professor X., who theoretically believes himself to be a solipsist, is certainly not one in practice when he has to thank a Minister of State for a decoration conferred upon him, or when he lectures to an audience. The Pyrrhonist who is cudgelled in Moliere's Le Mariage force, does not go on saying " Il me semble que vous me battez," but takes his beating as really received. Nor is it the purpose of these " introductory remarks " to discredit the standpoint of the plain man. The task which we have set ourselves is simply to show why and for what purpose we hold that standpoint during most of our lives, and why and for what purpose we are provisionally obliged to abandon it. No point of view has absolute, permanent validity. Each has importance only for some given end. ... Further Reading: Poincare Helmholtz Biography Philosophy Archive @ marxists.org

Hermann Helmholtz (1878) The Facts of Perception Source: The Facts of Perception (1878) from Selected Writings of Hermann Helmholtz, Wesleyan University Press. The Whole speech, barring inrtoductory paragraphs and appendices are repoduced here. The problems which that earlier period considered fundamental to all science were those of the theory of knowledge: What is true in our sense perceptions and thought? and In what way do our ideas correspond to reality? Philosophy and the natural sciences attack these questions from opposite directions, but they are the common problems of both. Philosophy, which is concerned with the mental aspect, endeavours to separate out whatever in our knowledge and ideas is due to the effects of the material world, in order to determine the nature of pure mental activity. The natural sciences, on the other hand, seek to separate out definitions, systems of symbols, patterns of representation, and hypotheses, in order to study the remainder, which pertains to the world of reality whose laws they seek, in a pure form. Both try to achieve the same separation, though each is interested in a different part of the divided field. The natural scientist no more than the philosopher can ignore epistemological questions when he is dealing with sense perception or when he is concerned with the fundamental principles of geometry, mechanics, or physics. Since my work has entered many times into both the region of science and the region of philosophy, I should like to attempt to survey what has been done from the side of the natural sciences to answer the questions which have just been stated. The laws of thought, after all, are the same for the scientist as for the philosopher. In all cases where the facts of daily experience, which are already very copious, afford a clear-sighted thinker with a disinterested sense of the truth sufficient information for making correct judgments, the scientist must be satisfied to recognise that a methodologically complete collection of the facts of experience will simply confirm those judgments, though there are occasionally, of course, some conflicting cases. This is my excuse (if it must be excused) for the fact that in general, in the following paper, no completely new answers - on the contrary, only rather old answers, long since given to the questions to be dealt with - will be presented to you. Often enough, of course, even old concepts gain new illumination and new meaning from newly ascertained facts. Shortly before the beginning of the present century, Kant expounded a theory of that which, in cognition, is prior or antecedent to all experience; that is, he developed a theory of what he called the transcendental forms of intuition and thought. These are forms into which the content of our sensory experience must necessarily be fitted if it is to be transformed into ideas. As to the qualities of sensations themselves, Locke had earlier pointed out the role which our bodily and mental structure or organisation plays in determining the way things appear to us. Along this latter line, investigations of the physiology of the senses, in particular those which Johannes Müller carried out and formulated in the law of the specific energies of the senses, have brought (one can almost say, to a completely unanticipated degree) the fullest confirmation. Further, these investigations have established the nature of - and in a very decisive manner have clarified the significance of - the antecedently given subjective forms of intuition. This subject has already been discussed rather frequently, so I can begin with it at once today. Among the various kinds of sensations, two quite different distinctions must be noted. The most fundamental is that among sensations which belong to different senses, such as the differences among blue, warm, sweet, and high-pitched. In an earlier work I referred to these as differences in the modality of the sensations. They are so fundamental as to exclude any possible transition from one to another and any relationship of greater or less similarity. For example, one cannot ask whether sweet is more like red or more like blue. The second distinction, which is less fundamental, is that among the various sensations of the same sense. I have referred to these as differences in quality. Fichte thought of all the qualities of a single sense as constituting a circle of quality; what I have called differences of modality, he designated differences between circles of quality. Transitions and comparisons are possible only within each circle; we can cross over from blue through violet and carmine to scarlet, for example, and we can say that yellow is more like orange than like blue. Physiological studies now teach that. the more fundamental differences are completely independent of the kind of external agent by which the sensations are excited. They are determined solely and exclusively by the nerves of sense which receive the excitations. Excitations of the optic nerves produce only sensations of light, whether the nerves are excited by objective light (that is, by the vibrations in the ether), by electric currents conducted through the eye, by a blow on the eyeball, or by a strain in the nerve trunk during the eyes' rapid movements in vision. The sensations which result from the latter processes are so similar to those caused by objective light that for a long time men believed it was possible to produce light in the eye itself. It was Johannes Müller who showed that internal production of light does not take place and that the sensation of light exists only when the optic nerve is excited. Every sensory nerve, then, when excited by even the most varied stimuli, produces a sensation only within its own specific circle of quality. The same external stimulus, therefore, if it strikes different nerves, produces diverse sensations, which are always within the circles of quality of the nerves excited. The same vibrations of the ether which the eye experiences as light, the skin feels as heat. The same vibrations of the air which the skin feels as a flutter, the ear hears as sound.

The same vibrations of the air which the skin feels as a flutter, the ear hears as sound. In the former case the differences between the sensations are so great that physicists once felt justified in postulating two agents, analogous and in part, equivalent to each other, one of which appears to us as light and the other as radiant heat. Only later, after careful, exhaustive experimental investigations, was the complete similarity of the physical characteristics of these two agents established. Within the circle of quality of each individual sense, where the nature of the stimulating object determines at least in part the quality of the resulting sensation, the most unexpected incongruities have also been found. In this connection a comparison of sight and hearing is instructive, for the objects of both - light and sound - are vibrational movements which, depending upon the frequency of the vibrations, produce sensations of different colours in vision and differences of pitch in hearing. If, for greater clarity, we refer to the relationships among the vibrations of light in terms of the musical intervals formed by sound vibrations, the following points are evident: The ear is sensitive to about ten octaves of different tones, while the eye is sensitive to only a musical sixth. With both sound and light, however, vibrations exist outside of these ranges, and their physical existence can be demonstrated. In its short scale the eye has only three independent, fundamental sensations - red, green, and blue-violet - out of which all of the other colours are formed by various combinations. These three sensations are combined in vision without being altered or disturbed. The ear, on the other hand, distinguishes an enormous number of tones of different pitch, and no one chord sounds exactly like another made up of different tones. In vision, the same sensation of white can be produced by combining the red and the green-blue of the spectrum; or green, red, and violet; or yellow and ultramarine blue; or green-yellow and violet; or any two, or three, or indeed all of these combinations together. If the same thing occurred in hearing, the simultaneous striking of c and f with d and g, or with e and a, or with c, d, e, f, g, a, and so on, would all produce the same sound. Thus it should be emphasised, with reference to the objective significance of colours, that except for the effect on the eye there is no single objective combination of colours which can be related invariantly to any one sensation of colour. Finally, consonance and dissonance in music are due entirely to the phenomenon of beats. These in turn are due to the rapid variations in the intensity of sound which result when two tones of almost equal pitch are alternatively in and out of phase, thus causing first strong and then weak vibrations in any body oscillating harmonically with them. As a physical phenomenon, beats can be produced just as readily by the interaction of two trains of light waves as by the interaction of two trains of sound waves. In order to be aware of them, however, the nerves would have to be affected by both wave trains, and the alternations between strong and weak intensities would have to follow each other at just the right intervals. In this respect the auditory nerves are greatly superior to the optic nerves. Each fibre among the auditory nerves is sensitive to only a single tone from a narrow interval of the scale, so that in general only tones lying close together can interact with one another, while those at a distance cannot. If the latter do interact, they produce not beats but an overtone or some combination tone. It is in connection with these, as you know, that the difference between harmonic and non-harmonic intervals, that is, between consonance and dissonance, makes its appearance. In contrast again, every optic nerve fibre is sensitive to the entire spectrum, although, to be sure, they are sensitive in different degrees to different parts of the spectrum. If it were possible to detect by means of the optic nerves the enormously rapid beats resulting from the interaction of different vibrations of light, every mixed colour would appear as a dissonance. It is apparent that all these differences among the effects of light and sound are determined by the way in which the nerves of sense react. Our sensations are simply effects which are produced in our organs by objective causes; precisely how these effects manifest themselves depends principally and in essence upon the type of apparatus that reacts to the objective causes. What information, then, can the qualities of such sensations give us about the characteristics of the external causes and influences which produce them? Only this: our sensations are signs, not images, of such characteristics. One expects an image to be similar in some respect to the object of which it is an image; in a statue one expects similarity of form, in a drawing similarity of perspective, in a painting similarity of colour. A sign, however, need not be similar in any way to that of which it is a sign. The sole relationship between them is that the same object, appearing under the same conditions, must evoke the same sign; thus different signs always signify different causes or influences. To popular opinion, which accepts on faith and trust the complete veridicality of the images which our senses apparently furnish of external objects, this relationship may seem very insignificant. In truth it is not, for with it something of the greatest importance can be accomplished: we can discover the lawful regularities in the processes of the external world. And natural laws assert that from initial conditions which are the same in some specific way, there always follow consequences which are the same in some other specific way. If the same kinds of things in the world of experience are indicated by the same signs, then the lawful succession of equal effects from equal causes will be related to a similar regular succession in the realm of our sensations. If, for example, some kind of berry in ripening forms a red pigment and sugar at the same time, we shall always find a red colour and a sweet taste together in our sensations of berries of this kind.

If, for example, some kind of berry in ripening forms a red pigment and sugar at the same time, we shall always find a red colour and a sweet taste together in our sensations of berries of this kind. Thus, even if in their qualities our sensations are only signs whose specific nature depends completely upon our make-up or organisation, they are not to be discarded as empty appearances. They are still signs of something - something existing or something taking place - and given them we can determine the laws of these objects or these events. And that is something of the greatest importance! Thus, our physiological make-up incorporates a pure form of intuition, insofar as the qualities of sensation are concerned. Kant, however, went further. He claimed that, not only the qualities of sense experience, but also space and time are determined by the nature of our faculty of intuition, since we cannot perceive anything in the external world which does not occur at some time and in some place and since temporal location is also a characteristic of all subjective experience. Kant therefore called time the a priori and necessary transcendental form of the inner, and space the corresponding form of the outer, intuition. Further, Kant considered that spatial characteristics belong no more to the world of reality (the dinge an sich) than the colours we see belong to external objects. On the contrary, according to him, space is carried to objects by our eyes. Even in this claim, scientific opinion can go along with Kant up to a certain point. Let us consider whether any sensible marks are present in ordinary, immediate experience to which all perception of objects in space can be related. Indeed, we find such marks in connection with the fact that our body's movement sets us in varying spatial relations to the objects we perceive, so that the impressions which these objects make upon us change as we move. The impulse to move, which we initiate through the innervation of our motor nerves, is immediately perceptible. We feel that we are doing something when we initiate such an impulse. We do not know directly, of course, all that occurs; it is only through the science of physiology that we learn how we set the motor nerves in an excited condition, how these excitations are conducted to the muscles, and how the muscles in turn contract and move the limbs. We are aware, however, without any scientific study, of the perceptible effects which follow each of the various innervations we initiate. The fact that we become aware of these effects through frequently repeated trials and observations can be demonstrated in many, many ways. Even as adults we can still learn the innervations necessary to pronounce the words of a foreign language, or in singing to produce some special kind of voice formation. We can learn the innervations necessary to move our ears, to turn our eyes inward or outward, to focus them upward or downward, and so on. The only difficulty in learning to do these things is that we must try to do them by using innervations which are unknown, innervations which have not been necessary in movement previously executed. We know these innervations in no form and by no definable characteristics other than the fact that they produce the observable effects intended. This alone distinguishes the various innervations from one another. If we initiate an impulse to move - if we shift our gaze, say, or move our hands, or walk back and forth - the sensations belonging to some circles of quality (namely, those sensations due to objects in space) may be altered. Other Psychical states and conditions that we are aware of in ourselves, however, such as recollections, intentions, desires, and moods, remain unchanged. In this way a thoroughgoing distinction may be established in our immediate experience between the former and the latter. If we use the term spatial to designate those relations which we can alter directly by our volition but whose nature may still remain conceptually unknown to us, an awareness of mental states or conditions does not enter into spatial relations at all. All sensations of external senses, however, must be preceded by some kind of innervation, that is, they must be spatially determined. Thus space, charged with the qualities of our sensations of movement, will appear to us as that through which we move or that about which we gaze. In this sense spatial intuition is a subjective form of intuition, just as the qualities of sensation (red, sweet, cold) are. Naturally, this does not mean that the determination of the position of a specific object is only an illusion, any more than the qualities of sensation are. From this point of view, space is the necessary form of outer intuition, since we consider only what we perceive as spatially determined to constitute the external world. Those things which are not perceived in any spatial relation we think of as belonging to the world of inner intuition, the world of self-consciousness. Space is an a priori form of intuition, necessarily prior to all experience, insofar as the perception of it is related to the possibility of motor volitions, the mental and physical capacity for which must be provided by our physiological make-up before we can have intuitions of space. There can be no doubt about the relationship between the sensible signs or marks mentioned above and the changes in our perception of objects in space which result from our movements. We still must consider the question, however, whether it is only from this source that all the specific characteristics of our intuition of space originate. To this end we must reflect further upon some of the conclusions concerning perception at which we have just arrived. Let us try to set ourselves back to the state or condition of a man without any experience at all. In order to begin without any intuition of space, we must assume that such an individual no longer recognises the effects of his own innervations, except to the extent that he has now learned how, by means of his memory of a first innervation or by the execution of a second one contrary to the first, to return to the state out of which he originally moved. Since this mutual self-annulment of different innervations is completely independent of what is actually perceived, the individual can discover how to initiate innervations without any prior knowledge of the external world. Let us assume that the man at first finds himself to be just one object in a region of stationary objects.

Let us assume that the man at first finds himself to be just one object in a region of stationary objects. As long as he initiates no motor impulses, his sensations will remain unchanged. However, if he makes some movement (if he moves his eyes or his hands, for example, or moves forward), his sensations will change. And if he returns (in memory or by another movement) to his initial state, all his sensations will again be the same as they were earlier. If we call the entire group of sensation aggregates which can potentially be brought to consciousness during a certain period of time by a specific, limited group of volitions the temporary presentabilia in contrast to the present, that is, the sensation aggregate within this group which is the object of immediate awareness - then our hypothetical individual is limited at any one time to a specific circle of presentabilia, out of which, however, he can make any aggregate present at any given moment by executing the proper movement. Every individual member of this group of presentabilia, therefore, appears to him to exist at every moment of the period of time, regardless of his immediate present, for he has been able to observe any of them at any moment he wished to do so. This conclusion - that he could have observed them at any other moment of the period if he had wished - should be regarded as a kind of inductive inference, since from any moment a successful inference can easily be made to any other moment of the given period of time. In this way the idea of the simultaneous and continuous existence of a group of different but adjacent objects may be attained. Adjacent is a term with spatial connotations, but it is legitimate to use it here, since we have used spatial to define those relations which can be changed by volition. Moreover, we need not restrict the term adjacent so that it refers only to material objects. For example, it can legitimately be said that "to the right it is bright, to the left dark," and "forward there is opposition, behind there is nothing," in the case where "right" and "left" are only names for specific movements of the eyes and "forward" and "behind" for specific movements of the hands. At other times the circles of presentabilia related to this same group of volitions are different. In this way circles of presentabilia, along with their individual members, come to be something given to us, that is, they come to be objects. Those changes which we are able to bring about or put an end to by familiar acts of volition come to be separated from those which do not result from and cannot be set aside by such acts. This last statement is negative: in Fichte's quite appropriate terminology, the Non-Ego forces the recognition that it is distinct from the Ego. When we inquire into the empirical conditions under which our intuition of space is formed, we must concentrate in particular upon the sense of touch, for the blind can form complete intuitions of space without the aid of vision. Even if space turns out to be less rich in objects for them than for people with vision, it seems highly improbable that the foundation of the intuition of space is completely different for the two classes of people. If, in the dark or with our eyes closed, we try to perceive only by touch, we are definitely able to feel the shapes of the objects lying around us, and we can determine them with accuracy and certainty. Moreover, we are able to do this with just one finger or even with a pencil held in the hand the way a surgeon holds a probe. Ordinarily, of course, if we want to find our way about in the dark we touch large objects with five or ten fingertips simultaneously. In this way we get from five to ten times as much information in a given period of time as we do with one finger. We also use the fingers to measure the sizes of objects, just as we measure with the tips of an open pair of compasses. It should be emphasised that with the sense of touch, the fact that we have an extended skin surface with many sensitive points on it is of secondary importance. What we are able to find out, for example, about the impression on a medal by the sensations in the skin when our hand is stationary is very slight and crude in comparison with what we can discover even with the tip of a pencil when we move our hand. With the sense of sight, perception is more complicated due to the fact that besides the most sensitive spot on the retina, the fovea central, or pit, which in vision rushes as it were about the visual field, there are also a great many other sensitive points acting at the same time and in a much richer way than is the case with the sense of touch. It is easy to see that by moving our fingers over an object, we can learn the sequences in which impressions of it present themselves and that these sequences are unchanging, regardless which finger we use. Further, these are not single-valued or fixed sequences, whose elements must always be covered, either forward or backward, in the same order. They are not linear sequences; on the contrary, they form a plane coextension or, using Riemann's terminology, a manifold of the second order. The fingers are moved over a surface by means of motor impulses which differ from those necessary to carry them from one point on the surface to another, and different surfaces require different movements for the fingers to glide over them. Consequently, the space in which the fingers move requires a manifold of a higher order than that of a surface; the third dimension must be introduced. Three dimensions are sufficient, however, for all our experience, since a closed surface completely divides space as we know it. Moreover, substances in a gaseous or fluid state, which are not dependent at all on the nature of man's mental faculties, cannot escape from a completely closed surface. And, just as a continuous line can enclose only a surface and not a space - that is, a spatial form of two and not of three dimensions - so a surface can enclose only a space of three and not of four dimensions. It is thus that our knowledge of the spatial arrangement of objects is attained. Judgments concerning their size result from observations of the congruence of our hand with parts or points of an object's surface, or from the congruence of the retina with parts or points of the retinal image. A strange consequences characteristic of the ideas in the minds of individuals with at least some experience - follows from the fact that the perceived spatial ordering of things originates in the sequences in which the qualities of sensations are presented by our moving sense organs: the objects in the space around us appear to possess the qualities of our sensations.

They appear to be red or green, cold or warm, to have an odour or a taste, and so on. Yet these qualities of sensations belong only to our nervous system and do not extend at all into the space around us. Even when we know this, however, the illusion does not cease, for it is the primary and fundamental truth. The illusion is quite simply the sensations which are given to us in spatial order to begin with. You can see how the most fundamental properties of our spatial intuition can be obtained in this way. Commonly, however, an intuition is taken to be something which is simply given, something which occurs without reflection or effort, something which above all cannot be reduced to other mental processes. This popular interpretation, at least insofar as the intuition of space is concerned, is due in part to certain theorists in physiological optics and in part to a strict adherence to the philosophy of Kant. As is well known, Kant taught, not only that the general form of the intuition of space is given transcendentally, but also that this form possesses, originally and prior to a possible experience, certain more specific characteristics which are commonly given expression in the axioms of geometry. These axioms may be reduced to the following propositions: 1. Between two points there is only one possible shortest line. We call such a line straight. 2. A plane is determined by three points. A plane is a surface which contains completely any straight line between any two of its points. 3. Through any point there is only one possible line parallel to a given straight line. Two straight lines are parallel if they lie in the same plane and do not intersect upon any finite extension. Kant used the alleged fact that these propositions of geometry appear to us necessarily true, along with the fact that we cannot imagine or represent to ourselves any irregularities in spatial relations, as direct proof that the axioms must be given prior to all experience. It follows that the conception of space contained in them or implied by them must also constitute a transcendental form of intuition independent of all experience. I would like to emphasise here, in connection with the controversies which have sprung up during the past few years as to whether the axioms of geometry are transcendental or empirical propositions, that this question is absolutely different from the one mentioned earlier, namely, whether space in general is a transcendental form of intuition or not. Our eyes see everything in the field of vision as a number of colored plane surfaces. That is their form of intuition. However, the particular colours that appear at any one time, the relationships among them, and the order in which they appear are the effects of external causes and are not determined by any law of our organisation. Equally, the fact that space is a form of intuition implies just as little concerning the facts which are expressed by the axioms. If these axioms are not empirical propositions but rather pertain to a necessary form of intuition, this is a further and quite specific characteristic of the general form, and the same reasoning which was used to establish that the general form of intuition of space is transcendental is not necessarily sufficient to establish that the axioms also have a transcendental origin. In his assertion that it is impossible to conceive of spatial relations which contradict the axioms of geometry, as well as in his general interpretation of intuition as a simple, irreducible mental process, Kant was influenced by the mathematics and the physiology of the senses of his time. In order to try to conceive of something which has never been seen before, it is necessary to know how to imagine in detail the series of sense impressions which, in accordance with well-known laws, would be experienced if the thing in question - and any changes in it - were actually perceived by any of the sense organs from all possible positions. Further, these impressions must be such that all possible interpretations of them except one can be eliminated. If these series of sense impressions can be specified completely and uniquely in this way, then in my opinion one must admit that the object clearly is conceivable. Since by hypothesis the object has never been observed before, no previous experience can come to our aid and guide our imagination to the required series of impressions. Such guidance can be provided only by the concepts of the objects and relationships to be represented. Such concepts are first developed analytically as much as is necessary for the investigation at hand. Indeed, the concepts of spatial forms to which nothing in ordinary experience corresponds can be developed with certainty only by the use of analytic geometry. It was Gauss who, in 1828 in his treatise on the curvature of surfaces, first presented the analytical tools necessary for the solution of the present problem, the tools which Riemann later used to establish the logical possibility of his system of geometry. These investigations have been called, not improperly, meta-mathematical. Furthermore, in 1829 and in 1840 Lobachevsky, using the ordinary, intuitive, synthetic method, developed a geometry without the axiom of parallels which is in complete agreement with the corresponding parts of the new analytical investigations. Beltrami has given us a method for representing meta-mathematical spaces in parts of Euclidean space, a method by which it is possible to imagine the appearance of such spaces in perspective vision with relative ease. Finally, Lipschitz has pointed out how the general principles of mechanics can be transferred to such spaces, so that the series of sense impressions which would occur in them can be specified completely. Thus, in my opinion, the conceivability of such spaces in the sense just indicated has been established. There is considerable disagreement, however, on this issue. For a demonstration of conceivability I require only that, for every means of observation, the corresponding sense impressions be sketched out clearly and unambiguously, if necessary with the aid of scientific knowledge of the laws of these methods of observation. To anyone who knows these laws, the objects or relationships to be represented seem almost real.

To anyone who knows these laws, the objects or relationships to be represented seem almost real. Indeed, the task of representing the various spatial relationships of meta-mathematical spaces requires training in the understanding of analytical methods, perspective constructions, and optical phenomena. This, however, goes counter to the older conception of intuition, according to which only those things whose ideas come instantly - that is, without reflection and effort - to consciousness along with the sense impressions are to be regarded as given through intuition. It is true that our attempts to represent meta-mathematical spaces do not have the effortlessness, speed, or immediate clarity of our perceptions of, say, the shape of a room which we enter for the first time or of the arrangement and shape of the objects in it, the materials out of which they are made, and many other things. If this kind of immediate evidence is really a fundamental, necessary characteristic of an intuition, we cannot rightly claim the conceivability of meta-mathematical spaces. But upon further consideration we find that there are a large number of experiences which show that we can develop speed and certainty in forming specific ideas after receiving specific sense impressions, even in cases where there are no natural connections between the ideas and the impressions. One of the most striking examples of this is learning a native language. Words are arbitrarily or accidentally selected signs, and in every language they are different. Knowledge of these signs is not inherited; to a German child who has been raised among French-speaking people and who has never heard German spoken, it is a foreign language. A child learns the meanings of words and sentences only by examples of their use; and before he understands the language, it is impossible to make intelligible to him the fact that the sounds he hears are signs which have meaning. Finally, however, after he has grown up, he understands these words and sentences without reflection, without effort, and without knowing when, where, or through what examples he learned them. He understands the most subtle shifts in their meaning, shifts which are often so subtle that any attempt to define them logically could be carried out only with difficulty. It is not necessary for me to add further examples; our daily life is more than rich enough in them. Art, most clearly poetry and the plastic arts, is based directly upon such experiences. The highest kind of perception, that which we find in the artist's vision, is an example of this same basic kind of understanding, in this case the understanding of new aspects of man and nature. Among the traces which frequently repeated perceptions leave behind in the memory, the ones conforming to law and repeated with the greatest regularity are strengthened, while those which vary accidentally are obliterated. In a receptive, attentive observer, intuitive images of the characteristic aspects of the things that interest him come to exist; afterward he knows no more about how these images arose than a child knows about the examples from which he learned the meanings of words. That an artist has beheld the truth follows from the fact that we too are seized with the conviction of truth when he leads us away from currents of accidentally related qualities. An artist is superior to us in that he knows how to find the truth amid all the confusion and chance events of daily experience. So much to remind ourselves how effective these mental processes are, from the lowest to the highest reaches of our intellectual life. In some of my earlier works I called the connections of ideas which take place in these processes unconscious inferences. These inferences are unconscious insofar as their major premise is not necessarily expressed in the form of a proposition; it is formed from a series of experiences whose individual members have entered consciousness only in the form of sense impressions which have long since disappeared from memory. Some fresh sense impression forms the minor premise, to which the rule impressed upon us by previous observations is applied. Recently I have refrained from using the phrase unconscious inference in order to avoid confusion with what seems to me a completely obscure and unjustified idea which Schopenhauer and his followers have designated by the same name. Obviously we are concerned here with the elementary processes which are the real basis of all thought, even though they lack the critical certainty and refinement to be found in the scientific formation of concepts and in the individual steps of scientific inferences. Returning now to the question of the origin of the axioms of geometry, our lack of facility in developing ideas of meta-mathematical spatial relations because of insufficient experience cannot be used validly as an argument against their conceivability. On the contrary, these spatial relations are completely conceivable. Kant's proof of the transcendental nature of the geometrical axioms is therefore untenable. Indeed, investigation of the facts of experience shows that the axioms of geometry, taken in the only sense in which they can be applied to the external world, are subject to proof or disproof by experience. The memory traces of previous experience play an even more extensive and influential role in our visual observations. An observer who is not completely inexperienced receives without moving his eyes (this condition can be realised experimentally by using the momentary illumination of an electric discharge or by carefully and deliberately staring) images of the objects in front of him which are quite rich in content. We can easily confirm with our own eyes, however, that these images are much richer and especially much more precise if the gaze is allowed to move about the field of vision, in this way making use of the kind of spatial observations which I have previously described as the most fundamental. Indeed, we are so used to letting our eyes wander over the objects we are looking at that considerable practice is required before we succeed in making them - for purposes of research in physiological optics - fix on a point without wandering. In my work on physiological optics I have tried to explain how our knowledge of the field open to vision is gained from visual images experienced as we move our eyes, given that there are some perceptible differences of location on the retina among otherwise qualitatively similar sensations. Following Lotze's terminology, these spatially different retinal sensations were called local signs. It is not necessary to know prior to visual experience that these signs are local signs, that is, that they are related to various objective differences in place. The fact that people blind from birth who afterward gain their sight by an operation cannot, before they have touched them, distinguish between such simple forms as a circle and a square by the use of their eyes has been confirmed even more fully by recent studies.

The fact that people blind from birth who afterward gain their sight by an operation cannot, before they have touched them, distinguish between such simple forms as a circle and a square by the use of their eyes has been confirmed even more fully by recent studies. Investigations in physiology show that with the eyes alone we can achieve rather precise and reliable comparisons of various lines and angles in the field of vision, provided that through the eyes' normal movements the images of these figures can be formed quickly one after another on the retina. We can even estimate the actual size and distance of objects which are not too far away from us with considerable accuracy by means of changing perspectives in our visual field, although making such judgments in the three dimensions of space is much more complicated than it is in the case of a plane image. As is well known, one of the greatest difficulties in drawing is being able to free oneself from the influence which the idea of the true size of a perceived object involuntarily has upon us. These are all facts which we would expect if we obtain our knowledge of local signs through experience. We can learn the changing sensory signs of something which remains objectively constant much more easily and reliably than we can the signs of something which changes with every movement of the body, as perspective images do. To a great many physiologists, however, whose point of view we shall call nativistic, in contrast to the empirical position which I have sought to defend, the idea that knowledge of the field of vision is acquired is unacceptable. It is unacceptable to them because they have not made clear to themselves what even the example of learning a language shows so clearly, namely, how much can be explained in terms of the accumulation of memory impressions. Because of this lack of appreciation of the power of memory, a number of different attempts have been made to account for at least part of visual perception through innate mechanisms by means of which specific sensory impressions supposedly induce specific innate spatial ideas. In an earlier work I tried to show that all hypotheses of this kind which had been formulated were insufficient, since cases were always being discovered in which our visual perceptions are more precisely in agreement with reality than is stated in these hypotheses. With each of them we are forced to the additional assumption that ultimately experience acquired during movement may very well prevail over the hypothetical inborn intuition and thus accomplish in opposition to it what, according to the empirical hypothesis, it would have accomplished without such a hindrance. Thus nativistic hypotheses concerning knowledge of the field of vision explain nothing. In the first place, they only acknowledge the existence of the facts to be explained, while refusing to refer these facts to well-confirmed mental processes which even they must rely on in certain cases. In the second place, the assumption common to all nativistic theories - that ready-made ideas of objects can be produced by means of organic mechanisms - appears much more rash and questionable than the assumption of the empirical theory that the non-cognitive materials of experience exist as a result of external influences and that all ideas are formed out of these materials according to the laws of thought. In the third place, the nativistic assumptions are unnecessary. The single objection that can be raised against the empirical theory concerns the sureness of the movements of many newborn or newly hatched animals. The smaller the mental endowment of these animals, the sooner they learn how to do all that they are capable of doing. The narrower the path on which their thoughts must travel, the easier they find their way. The newborn human child, on the other hand, is at first awkward in vision; it requires several days to learn to judge by its visual images the direction in which to turn its head in order to reach its mother's breast. The behaviour of young animals is, in general, quite independent of individual experience. Whatever these instincts are which guide them - whether they are the direct hereditary transmission of their parents' ideas, whether they have to do only with pleasure and pain, or whether they are motor impulses related to certain aggregates of experience - we do not know. In the case of human beings the last phenomenon is becoming increasingly well understood. Careful and critically employed investigations are most urgently needed on this whole subject. Arrangements such as those which the nativistic hypotheses assume can at best have only a certain pedagogical value; that is, they may facilitate the initial understanding of uniform, lawful relations. And the empirical position is, to be sure, in agreement with the nativistic on a number of points - for example, that local signs of adjacent places on the retina are more similar than those farther apart and that the corresponding points on the two retina are more similar than those that do not correspond. For our present purposes, however, it is sufficient to know that complete spatial intuition can be achieved by the blind and that for people with vision, even if the nativistic hypotheses should prove partially correct, the final and most exact determinations of spatial relations are obtained through observations made while moving in various ways. I should like, now, to return to the discussion of the most fundamental facts of perception. As we have seen, we not only have changing sense impressions which come to us without our doing anything; we also perceive while we are being active or moving about. In this way we acquire knowledge of the uniform relations between our innervations and the various aggregates of impressions included in the circles of presentabilia. Each movement we make by which we alter the appearance of objects should be thought of as an experiment designed to test whether we have understood correctly the invariant relations of the phenomena before us, that is, their existence in definite spatial relations. The persuasive force of these experiments is much greater than the conviction we feel when observations are carried out without any action on our part, for with these experiments the chains of causes run through our consciousness. One factor in these causes is our volitions, which are known to us by an inner intuition; we know, moreover, from what motives they arise. In these volitions originates the chain of physical causes which results in the final effect of the experiment, so we are dealing with a process passing from a known beginning to a known result. The two essential conditions necessary for the highest degree of conviction are (1) that our volitions not be determined by the physical causes which simultaneously determine the physical processes and (2) that our volitions not influence psychically the resulting perceptions. These last points should be considered more fully. The volition for a specific movement is a psychic act, and the perceptible change in sensation which results from it is also a psychic event.

is it possible for the first to bring about the second by some purely mental process? It is certainly not absolutely impossible. Whenever we dream, something similar to this takes place. While dreaming we believe that we are executing some movement, and then we dream further that the natural results of this movement occur. We dream that we climb into a boat, shove it off from shore, guide it over the water, watch the surrounding objects shift position, and so on. In cases like this it seems to the dreamer that he sees the consequences of his actions and that the perceptions in the dream are brought about by means of purely Psychical processes. Who can say how long and how finely spun, how richly elaborated, such dreams may be! If everything in dreams were to occur in ultimate accordance with the laws of nature, there would be no distinction between dreaming and waking, except that the person who is awake may break off the series of impressions he is experiencing. I do not see how a system of even the most extreme subjective idealism, even one which treats life as a dream, can be refuted. One can show it to be as improbable, as unsatisfactory as possible (in this connection I concur with the severest expressions of condemnation), but it can be developed in a logically consistent manner, and it seems to me important to keep this in mind. How ingeniously Calderon carried out this theme in Life Is a Dream is well known. Fichte also believed and taught that the Ego constructs the Non-Ego, that is, the world of phenomena, which it requires for the development of its Psychical activities. His idealism is to be distinguished from the one mentioned above, however, by the fact that he considered other individuals not to be dream images but, on the basis of moral laws, to be other Egos with equal reality. Since the images by which all these Egos represent the Non-Ego must be in agreement, he considered all the individual Egos to be part of or emanations from an Absolute Ego. The world in which they find themselves is the conceptual world which the World Spirit constructs. From this a conception of reality results similar to that of Hegel. The realistic hypothesis, on the other hand, accepts the evidence of ordinary personal experience, according to which the changes in perception which result from an act have more than a mere psychical connection with the antecedent volition. It accepts what seems to be established by our daily perception, that is, that the material world about us exists independently of our ideas. Undoubtedly the realistic hypothesis is the simplest that can be formulated. It is based upon and confirmed by an extraordinarily large number of cases. It is sharply defined in all specific instances and is therefore unusually useful and fruitful as a foundation for behaviour. Even if we take the idealistic position, we can hardly talk about the lawful regularity of our sensations other than by saying: "Perceptions occur as if the things of the material world referred to in the realistic hypothesis actually did exist." We cannot eliminate the "as if" construction completely, however, for we cannot consider the realistic interpretation to be more than an exceedingly useful and practical hypothesis. We cannot assert that it is necessarily true, for opposed to it there is always the possibility of other irrefutable idealistic hypotheses. It is always well to keep this in mind in order not to infer from the facts more than can rightly be inferred from them. The various idealistic and realistic interpretations are metaphysical hypotheses which, as long as they are recognised as such, are scientifically completely justified. They may become dangerous, however, if they are presented as dogmas or as alleged necessities of thought. Science must consider thoroughly all admissible hypotheses in order to obtain a complete picture of all possible modes of explanation. Furthermore, hypotheses are necessary to someone doing research, for one cannot always wait until a reliable scientific conclusion has been reached; one must sometimes make judgments according to either probability or aesthetic or moral feelings. Metaphysical hypotheses are not to be objected to here either. A thinker is unworthy of science, however, if he forgets the hypothetical origin of his assertions. The arrogance and vehemence with which such hidden hypotheses are sometimes defended are usually the result of a lack of confidence which their advocates feel in the hidden depths of their minds about the qualifications of their claims. What we unquestionably can find as a fact, without any hypothetical element whatsoever, is the lawful regularity of phenomena. From the very first, in the case where we perceive stationary objects distributed before us in space, this perception involves the recognition of a uniform or law-like connection between our movements and the sensations which result from them. Thus even the most elementary ideas contain a mental element and occur in accordance with the laws of thought. everything that is added in intuition to the raw materials of sensation may be considered mental, provided of course that we accept the extended meaning of mental discussed earlier. If "to conceive" means "to form concepts," and if it is true that in a concept we gather together a class of objects which possess some common characteristic, then it follows by analogy that the concept of some phenomenon which changes in time must encompass that which remains the same during that period of time. As Schiller said, the wise man Seeks for the familiar law amidst the awesome multiplicity of accidental occurrences, Seeks for the eternal Pole Star amidst the constant flight of appearances. That which, independently of any and everything else, remains the same during all temporal changes, we call a substance; the invariant relation between variable but related quantities we call a law. We perceive only the latter directly. Knowledge of substances can be attained only through extensive investigation, and as further investigation is always possible, such knowledge remains open to question.

Knowledge of substances can be attained only through extensive investigation, and as further investigation is always possible, such knowledge remains open to question. At an earlier time both light and heat were thought to be substances; later it turned out that both were only transitory forms of motion. We must therefore always be prepared for some new analysis of what are now known as the chemical elements. The first product of the rational conception of phenomena is its lawfulness or regularity. If we have fully investigated some regularity, have established its conditions completely and with certainty and, at the same time, with complete generality, so that for all possible subsequent cases the effect is unequivocally determined - and if we have therefore arrived at the conviction that the law is true and will continue to hold true at all times and in all cases - then we recognise it as something existing independently of our ideas, and we label it a cause, or that which underlies or hes behind the changes taking place. (Note that the meaning I give to the word cause and its application are both exactly specified, although in ordinary language the word is also variously used to mean antecedent or motive.) Insofar as we recognise a law as a power analogous to our will, that is, as something giving rise to our perceptions as well as determining the course of natural processes, we call it a force. The idea of a force acting in opposition to us arises directly out of the nature of our simplest perceptions and the way in which they occur. From the beginning of our lives, the changes which we cause ourselves by the acts of our will are distinguished from those which are neither made nor can be set aside by our will. Pain, in particular, gives us the most compelling awareness of the power or force of reality. The emphasis falls here on the observable fact that the perceived circle of presentabilia is not created by a conscious act of our mind or will. Fichte's Non-Ego is an apt and precise expression for this. In dreaming, too, that which a person believes he sees and feels does not appear to be called forth by his will or by the known relations of his ideas, for these also may often be unconscious. They constitute a Non-Ego for the dreamer too. It is the same for the idealists who see the Non-Ego as the world of ideas of the World Spirit. We have in the German language a most appropriate word for that which stands behind the changes of phenomena and acts, namely, "the real". This word implies only action; it lacks the collateral meaning of existing as substance, which the concept of "the actual" or "the essential" includes. In the concept of "the objective", on the other hand, the notion of the complete form of objects is introduced, something that does not correspond to anything in our most basic perceptions. In the case of the logically consistent dreamer, it should be noted, we must use the words "effective" and "real" to characterise those Psychical conditions or motives whose sensations correspond uniformly to, and which are experienced as the momentary states of, his dreamed world. In general, it is clear that a distinction between thought and reality is possible only when we know how to make the distinction between that which the ego can and that which it cannot change. This, however, is possible only when we know the uniform consequences which volitions have in time. From this fact it can be seen that conformity to law is the essential condition which something must satisfy in order to be considered real. I need not go into the fact that it is a contradictio in abjecto to try to present the actual or Kant's ding an sich in positive statements without comprehending it within our forms of representation. This fact has been pointed out often enough already. What we can attain, however, is knowledge of the lawful order in the realm of reality, since this can actually be presented in the sign system of our sense impressions. All things transitory But as symbols are sent. [Faust] I take it to be a propitious sign that we find Goethe with us here, as well as further along on this same path. Whenever we are dealing with a question requiring a broad outlook, we can trust completely his clear, impartial view as to where the truth lies. He demanded of science that it be only an artistic arrangement of facts and that it form no abstract concepts concerning them, for he considered abstract concepts to be empty names which only hide the facts. In somewhat the same sense, Gustav Kirchhoff has recently stated that the task of the most abstract of the natural sciences, mechanics, is to describe completely and in the simplest possible way the kinds of motion appearing in nature. As to the question whether abstract concepts hide the facts or not, this indeed happens if we remain in the realm of abstract concepts and do not examine their factual content, that is, if we do not try to make clear what new and observable invariant relations follow from them. A correctly formulated hypothesis, as we observed a moment ago, has its empirical content expressed in the form of a general law of nature. The hypothesis itself is an attempt to rise to more general and more comprehensive uniformities or regularities. Anything new, however, that an hypothesis asserts about facts must be established or confirmed by observation and experiment. Hypotheses which do not have such factual reference or which do not lead to trustworthy, unequivocal statements concerning the facts falling under them should be considered only worthless phrases. Every reduction of some phenomenon to underlying substances and forces indicates that something unchangeable and final has been found. We are never justified, of course, in making an unconditional assertion of such a reduction. Such a claim is not permissible because of the incompleteness of our knowledge and because of the nature of the inductive inferences upon which our perception of reality depends. Every inductive inference is based upon the belief that some given relation, previously observed to be regular or uniform, will continue to hold in all cases which may be observed. In effect, every inductive inference is based upon a belief in the lawful regularity of everything that happens. This uniformity or lawful regularity, however, is also the condition of conceptual understanding.

This uniformity or lawful regularity, however, is also the condition of conceptual understanding. Thus belief in uniformity or lawful regularity is at the same time belief in the possibility of understanding natural phenomena conceptually. If we assume that this comprehension or understanding of natural phenomena can be achieved - that is, if we believe that we shall be able to discern something fundamental and unchanging which is the cause of the changes we observe - then we accept a regulative principle in our thinking. It is called the law of causality, and it expresses our belief in the complete comprehensibility of the world. Conceptual understanding, in the sense in which I have just described it, is the method by which the world is submitted to our thoughts, facts are ordered, and the future predicted. It is our right and duty to extend the application of this method to all occurrences, and significant results have already been achieved in this way. We have no justification other than its results, however, for the application of the law of causality. We might have lived in a world in which every atom was different from every other one and where nothing was stable. In such a world there would be no regularity whatsoever, and our conscious activities would cease. The law of causality is in reality a transcendental law, a law which is given a priori. It is impossible to prove it by experience, for, as we have seen, even the most elementary levels of experience are impossible without inductive inferences, that is, without the law of causality. And even if the most complete experience should teach us that everything previously observed has occurred uniformly - a point concerning which we are not yet certain - we could conclude only by inductive inferences, that is, by presupposing the law of causality, that the law of causality will also be valid in the future. We can do no more than accept the proverb, "Have faith and keep on!" The earth's inadequacies Will then prove fruitful. [Faust] That is the answer we must give to the question: what is true in our ideas? In giving this answer we find ourselves at the foundation of Kant's system and in agreement with what has always seemed to me the most fundamental advance in his philosophy. I have frequently noted in my previous works the agreement between the more recent physiology of the senses and Kant's teachings. I have not meant, of course, that I would swear in verbs magistri to all his more minor points. I believe that the most fundamental advance of recent times must be judged to be the analysis of the concept of intuition into the elementary processes of thought. Kant failed to carry out this analysis or resolution; this is one reason why he considered the axioms of geometry to be transcendental propositions. It has been the physiological investigations of sense perception which have led us to recognise the most basic or elementary kinds of judgment, to inferences which are not expressible in words. These judgments or inferences will, of course, remain unknown and inaccessible to philosophers as long as they inquire only into knowledge expressed in language. Some philosophers who retain an inclination toward metaphysical speculation consider what we have treated as a defect in Kant's system, resulting from the lack of progress of the special sciences in his time, to be the most fundamental part of his philosophy. Indeed, Kant's proof of the possibility of metaphysics, the alleged science he did nothing further to develop, rests completely upon the belief that the axioms of geometry and the related principles of mechanics are transcendental propositions, given a priori. As a matter of fact, however, Kant's entire system really conflicts with the possibility of metaphysics, and the more obscure points in his theory of knowledge, over which so much has been argued, stem from this conflict. Be that as it may, the natural sciences have a secure, well-established foundation from which they can search for the laws of reality, a wonderfully rich and fertile field of endeavour. As long as they restrict themselves to this search, they need not be troubled with any idealistic doubts. Such work will, of course, always seem modest to some people when compared to the high-flown designs of the metaphysicians. For with Gods must Never a mortal Measure himself. If he mounts upwards, Till his head Touch the star-spangled heavens, His unstable feet Feel no ground beneath them; Winds and wild storm-clouds Make him their plaything;- Or if, with sturdy, Firm-jointed bones, he Treads the solid, unwavering Floor of the earth; yet Reaches he not Commonest oaks, nor E'en with the vine may Measure his greatness. [Goethe, The Limits of Man] The author of this poem has provided us with a model of a man who still retains clear eyes for the truth and for reality, even when he touches the stars with the crown of his head. The true scientist must always have something of the vision of an artist, something of the vision which led Goethe and Leonardo da Vinci to great scientific thoughts. Both artists and scientists strive, even if in different ways, toward the goal of discovering new uniformities or lawful regularities. But one must never produce idle swarms and mad fantasies in place of artistic vision. The true artist and the true scientist both know how to work steadily and how to give their work a convincing, truthful form. Moreover, reality has always unveiled the truth of its laws to the sciences in a much richer, more sublime fashion than she has painted it for even the most consummate efforts of mystical fantasy and metaphysical speculation. What have all the monstrous offspring of indiscreet fancy, heapings of gigantic dimensions and numbers, to say of the reality of the universe, of the period of time during which the sun and earth were formed, or of the geological ages during which life evolved, adapting itself always in the most thoroughgoing way to the increasingly more moderate physical conditions of our planet? What metaphysics has concepts in readiness to explain the effects of magnetic and induced electrical forces upon each other - effects which physics is now struggling to reduce to well-established elementary forces, without having reached any clear solution? Already, however, in physics light appears to be nothing more than another form of movement of these two agents, and the ether (the electrical and magnetic medium which pervades all space) has come to have completely new characteristics or properties.

And in what schema of scholastic concepts shall we put the store of energy capable of doing work, whose constancy is stated in the law of the conservation of energy and which, indestructible and incapable of increase like a substance, is acting as the motive power in every movement of inanimate as well as animate materials store of energy which is neither mind nor matter, yet is like a Proteus, clothing itself always in new forms; capable of acting throughout infinite space, yet not infinitely divisible like space; the effective cause of every effect, the mover in every movement? Did the poet have a notion of it? In the tides of Life, in Action's storm, A fluctuant wave, A shuttle free, Birth and the Grave, An eternal sea, A weaving, flowing Life, all-glowing, Thus at Time's humming loom't is my hand prepares The garment of Life which the Deity wears ! [Faust] We are particles of dust on the surface of our planet, which is itself scarcely a grain of sand in the infinite space of the universe. We are the youngest species among the living things of the earth, hardly out of the cradle according to the time reckoning of geology, still in the learning stage, hardly half-grown, said to be mature only through mutual agreement. Nevertheless, because of the mighty stimulus of the law of causality, we have already grown beyond our fellow creatures and are overcoming them in the struggle for existence. We truly have reason to be proud that it has been given to us to understand, slowly and through hard work, the incomprehensibly great scheme of things. Surely we need not feel in the least ashamed if we have not achieved this understanding upon the first flight of an Icarus. Further Reading: Biography | Kant | Fichte | Schelling | Schopenhauer | Wundt | Brentano | Pavlov | Freud | Poincaré | Mach | Schlick | Einstein Philosophy Archive @ marxists.org

Albert Einstein (1949) Einstein's Reply to Criticisms Source: From Albert Einstein: Philosopher-Scientist (1949), from The Library of Living Philosophers Series; Published: by Cambridge University Press, 1949. Including Neils Bohr's report of conversations with Einstein and Einstein's, reply reproduced here. BY WAY of introduction I must remark that it was not easy for me to do justice to the task of expressing myself concerning the essays contained in this volume. The reason lies in the fact that the essays refer to entirely too many subjects, which, at the present state of our knowledge, are only loosely connected with each other. I first attempted to discuss the essays individually. However, I abandoned this procedure because nothing even approximately homogeneous resulted, so that the reading of it could hardly have been either useful or enjoyable. I finally decided, therefore, to order these remarks, as far as possible, according to topical considerations. Furthermore, after some vain efforts, I discovered that the mentality which underlies a few of the essays differs so radically from my own, that I am incapable of saying anything useful about them. This is not to be interpreted that I regard those essays - insofar as their content is at all meaningful to me - less highly than I do those which lie closer to my own ways of thinking, to which [latter] I dedicate the following remarks. To begin with I refer to the essays of Wolfgang Pauli and Max Born. They describe the content of my work concerning quanta and statistics in general in their inner consistency and in their participation in the evolution of physics during the last half century. It is meritorious that they have done this: For only those who have successfully wrestled with the problematic situations of their own age can have a deep insight into those situations; unlike the later historian, who finds it difficult to make abstractions from those concepts and views which appear to his generation as established, or even as self-evident. Both authors deprecate the fact that I reject the basic idea of contemporary statistical quantum theory, insofar as I do not believe that this fundamental concept will provide a useful basis for the whole of physics. More of this later. I now come to what is probably the most interesting subject which absolutely must be discussed in connection with the detailed arguments of my highly esteemed colleagues Born, Pauli, Heitler, Bohr, and Margenau. They are all firmly convinced that the riddle of the double nature of all corpuscles (corpuscular and undulatory character) has in essence found its final solution in the statistical quantum theory. On the strength of the successes of this theory they consider it proved that a theoretically complete description of a system can, in essence, involve only statistical assertions concerning the measurable quantities of this system. They are apparently all of the opinion that Heisenberg's indeterminacy-relation (the correctness of which is, from my own point of view, rightfully regarded as finally demonstrated) is essentially prejudicial in favour of the character of all thinkable reasonable physical theories in the mentioned sense. In what follows I wish to adduce reasons which keep me from falling in line with the opinion of almost all contemporary theoretical physicists. I am, in fact, firmly convinced that the essentially statistical character of contemporary quantum theory is solely to be ascribed to the fact that this [theory] operates with an incomplete description of physical systems. Above all, however, the reader should be convinced that I fully recognise the very important progress which the statistical quantum theory has brought to theoretical physics. In the field of mechanical problems - i.e., wherever it is possible to consider the interaction of structures and of their parts with sufficient accuracy by postulating a potential energy between material points - [this theory] even now presents a system which, in its closed character, correctly describes the empirical relations between statable phenomena as they were theoretically to be expected. This theory is until now the only one which unites the corpuscular and undulatory dual character of matter in a logically satisfactory fashion; and the (testable) relations, which are contained in it, are, within the natural limits fixed by the indeterminacy-relation, complete. The formal relations which are given in this theory - i.e., its entire mathematical formalism - will probably have to be contained, in the form of logical inferences, in every useful future theory. What does not satisfy me in that theory, from the standpoint of principle, is its attitude towards that which appears to me to be the programmatic aim of all physics: the complete description of any (individual) real situation (as it supposedly exists irrespective of any act of observation or substantiation). Whenever the positivistically inclined modern physicist hears such a formulation his reaction is that of a pitying smile. He says to himself: "there we have the naked formulation of a metaphysical prejudice, empty of content, a prejudice, moreover, the conquest of which constitutes the major epistemological achievement of physicists within the last quarter-century. Has any man ever perceived a 'real physical situation'? How is it possible that a reasonable person could today still believe that he can refute our essential knowledge and understanding by drawing up such a bloodless ghost?" Patience! The above laconic characterisation was not meant to convince anyone; it was merely to indicate the point of view around which the following elementary considerations freely group themselves. In doing this I shall proceed as follows: I shall first of all show in simple special cases what seems essential to me, and then I shall make a few remarks about some more general ideas which are involved. We consider as a physical system, in the first instance, a radioactive atom of definite average decay time, which is practically exactly localised at a point of the coordinate system. The radioactive process consists in the emission of a (comparatively light) particle. For the sake of simplicity we neglect the motion of the residual atom after the disintegration process. Then it is possible for us, following Gamow, to replace the rest of the atom by a space of atomic order of magnitude, surrounded by a closed potential energy barrier which, at a time t = 0, encloses the particle to be emitted. The radioactive process thus schematised is then, as is well known, to be described - in the sense of elementary quantum mechanics - by a Psi-function in three dimensions, which at the time t= 0 is different from zero only inside of the barrier, but which, for positive times, expands into the outer space.

This Psi-function yields the probability that the particle, at some chosen instant, is actually in a chosen part of space (i.e., is actually found there by a measurement of position). On the other hand, the Psi-function does not imply any assertion concerning the time instant of the disintegration of the radioactive atom. Now we raise the question: Can this theoretical description be taken as the complete description of the disintegration of a single individual atom? The immediately plausible answer is: No. For one is, first of all, inclined to assume that the individual atom decays at a definite time; however, such a definite time-value is not implied in the description by the Psi-function. If, therefore, the individual atom has a definite disintegration time, then as regards the individual atom its description by means of the Psi-function must be interpreted as an incomplete description. In this case the Psi-function is to be taken as the description, not of a singular system, but of an ideal ensemble of systems. In this case one is driven to the conviction that a complete description of a single system should, after all, be possible, but for such complete description there is no room in the conceptual world of statistical quantum theory. To this the quantum theorist will reply: This consideration stands and falls with the assertion that there actually is such a thing as a definite time of disintegration of the individual atom (an instant of time existing independently of any observation). But this assertion is, from my point of view, not merely arbitrary but actually meaningless. The assertion of the existence of a definite time-instant for the disintegration makes sense only if I can in principle determine this time-instant empirically. Such an assertion, however, (which, finally, leads to the attempt to prove the existence of the particle outside of the force barrier), involves a definite disturbance of the system in which we are interested, so that the result of the determination does not permit a conclusion concerning the status of the undisturbed system. The supposition, therefore, that a radioactive atom has a definite disintegration-time is not justified by anything whatsoever; it is, therefore, not demonstrated either that the Psi-function can not be conceived as a complete description of the individual system. The entire alleged difficulty proceeds from the fact that one postulates something not observable as "real." (This the answer of the quantum theorist.) What I dislike in this kind of argumentation is the basic positivistic attitude, which from my point of view is untenable, and which seems to me to come to the same thing as Berkeley's principle, esse est percipi. "Being" is always something which is mentally constructed by us, that is, something which we freely posit (in the logical sense). The justification of such constructs does not lie in their derivation from what is given by the senses. Such a type of derivation (in the sense of logical deducibility) is nowhere to be had, not even in the domain of pre-scientific thinking. The justification of the constructs, which represent "reality" for us, lies alone in their quality of making intelligible what is sensorily given (the vague character of this expression is here forced upon me by my striving for brevity). Applied to the specifically chosen example this consideration tells us the following: One may not merely ask: "Does a definite time instant for the transformation of a single atom exist?" but rather: "Is it, within the framework of our theoretical total construction, reasonable to posit the existence of a definite point of time for the transformation of a single atom?" One may not even ask what this assertion means. One can only ask whether such a proposition, within the framework of the chosen conceptual system - with a view to its ability to grasp theoretically what is empirically given - is reasonable or not. Insofar, then, as a quantum-theoretician takes the position that the description by means of a Psi-function refers only to an ideal systematic totality but in no wise to the individual system, he may calmly assume a definite point of time for the transformation. But, if he represents the assumption that his description by way of the Psi-function is to be taken as the complete description of the individual system, then he must reject the postulation of a specific decay-time. He can justifiably point to the fact that a determination of the instant of disintegration is not possible on an isolated system, but would require disturbances of such a character that they must not be neglected in the critical examination of the situation. It would, for example, not be possible to conclude from the empirical statement that the transformation has already taken place, that this would have been the case if the disturbances of the system had not taken place. As far as I know, it was E. Schrödinger who first called attention to a modification of this consideration, which shows an interpretation of this type to be impracticable. Rather than considering a system which comprises only a radioactive atom (and its process of transformation), one considers a system which includes also the means for ascertaining the radioactive transformation - for example, a Geiger-counter with automatic registration-mechanism. Let this latter include a registration-strip, moved by a clockwork, upon which a mark is made by tripping the counter. True, from the point of view of quantum mechanics this total system is very complex and its configuration space is of very high dimension. But there is in principle no objection to treating this entire system from the standpoint of quantum mechanics. Here too the theory determines the probability of each configuration of all its co-ordinates for every time instant. If one considers all configurations of the coordinates, for a time large compared with the average decay time of the radioactive atom, there will be (at most) one such registration-mark on the paper strip. To each coordinate configuration corresponds a definite position of the mark on the paper strip. But, inasmuch as the theory yields only the relative probability of the thinkable co-ordinate-configurations, it also offers only relative probabilities for the positions of the mark on the paper strip, but no definite location for this mark. In this consideration the location of the mark on the strip plays the role played in the original consideration by the time of the disintegration. The reason for the introduction of the system supplemented by the registration-mechanism lies in the following. The location of the mark on the registration-strip is a fact which belongs entirely within the sphere of macroscopic concepts, in contradistinction to the instant of disintegration of a single atom. If we attempt [to work with] the interpretation that the quantum-theoretical description is to be understood as a complete description of the individual system, we are forced to the interpretation that the location of the mark on the strip is nothing which belongs to the system per se, but that the existence of that location is essentially dependent upon the carrying out of an observation made on the registration-strip.

Such an interpretation is certainly by no means absurd from a purely logical standpoint, yet there is hardly likely to be anyone who would be inclined to consider it seriously. For, in the macroscopic sphere it simply is considered certain that one must adhere to the program of a realistic description in space and time; whereas in the sphere of microscopic situations one is more readily inclined to give up, or at least to modify, this program. This discussion was only to bring out the following. One arrives at very implausible theoretical conceptions, if one attempts to maintain the thesis that the statistical quantum theory is in principle capable of producing a complete description of an individual physical system. On the other hand, those difficulties of theoretical interpretation disappear, if one views the quantum-mechanical description as the description of ensembles of systems. I reached this conclusion as the result of quite different types of considerations. I am convinced that everyone who will take the trouble to carry through such reflections conscientiously will find himself finally driven to this interpretation of quantum-theoretical description (the Psi-function is to be understood as the description not of a single system but of an ensemble of systems). Roughly stated the conclusion is this: Within the framework of statistical quantum theory there is no such thing as a complete description of the individual system. More cautiously it might be put as follows: The attempt to conceive the quantum-theoretical description as the complete description of the individual systems leads to unnatural theoretical interpretations, which become immediately unnecessary if one accepts the interpretation that the description refers to ensembles of systems and not to individual systems. In that case the whole "egg-walking" performed in order to avoid the "physically real" becomes superfluous. There exists, however, a simple psychological reason for the fact that this most nearly obvious interpretation is being shunned. For if the statistical quantum theory does not pretend to describe the individual system (and its development in time) completely, it appears unavoidable to look elsewhere for a complete description of the individual system; in doing so it would be clear from the very beginning that the elements of such a description are not contained within the conceptual scheme of the statistical quantum theory. With this one would admit that, in principle, this scheme could not serve as the basis of theoretical physics. Assuming the success of efforts to accomplish a complete physical description, the statistical quantum theory would, within the framework of future physics, take an approximately analogous position to the statistical mechanics within the framework of classical mechanics. I am rather firmly convinced that the development of theoretical physics will be of this type; but the path will be lengthy and difficult. I now imagine a quantum theoretician who may even admit that the quantum-theoretical description refers to ensembles of systems and not to individual systems, but who, nevertheless, clings to the idea that the type of description of the statistical quantum theory will, in its essential features, be retained in the future. He may argue as follows: True, I admit that the quantum-theoretical description is an incomplete description of the individual system. I even admit that a complete theoretical description is, in principle, thinkable. But I consider it proven that the search for such a complete description would be aimless. For the lawfulness of nature is thus constituted that the laws can be completely and suitably formulated within the framework of our incomplete description. To this I can only reply as follows: Your point of view - taken as theoretical possibility - is incontestable. For me, however, the expectation that the adequate formulation of the universal laws involves the use of all conceptual elements which are necessary for a complete description, is more natural. It is furthermore not at all surprising that, by using an incomplete description, (in the main) only statistical statements can be obtained out of such description. If it should be possible to move forward to a complete description, it is likely that the laws would represent relations among all the conceptual elements of this description which, per se, have nothing to do with statistics. A few more remarks of a general nature concerning concepts and [also] concerning the insinuation that a concept - for example that of the real - is something metaphysical (and therefore to be rejected). A basic conceptual distinction, which is a necessary prerequisite of scientific and pre-scientific thinking, is the distinction between "sense-impressions" (and the recollection of such) on the one hand and mere ideas on the other. There is no such thing as a conceptual definition of this distinction (aside from, circular definitions, i.e., of such as make a hidden use of the object to be defined). Nor can it be maintained that at the base of this distinction there is a type of evidence, such as underlies, for example, the distinction between red and blue. Yet, one needs this distinction in order to be able to overcome solipsism. Solution: we shall make use of this distinction unconcerned with the reproach that, in doing so, we are guilty of the metaphysical "original sin." We regard the distinction as a category which we use in order that we might the better find our way in the world of immediate sensations. The "sense" and the justification of this distinction lies simply in this achievement. But this is only a first step. We represent the sense-impressions as conditioned by an "objective" and by a "subjective" factor. For this conceptual distinction there also is no logical-philosophical justification. But if we reject it, we cannot escape solipsism. It is also the presupposition of every kind of physical thinking. Here too, the only justification lies in its usefulness. We are here concerned with "categories" or schemes of thought, the selection of which is, in principle, entirely open to us and whose qualification can only be judged by the degree to which its use contributes to making the totality of the contents of consciousness "intelligible." The above mentioned "objective factor" is the totality of such concepts and conceptual relations as are thought of as independent of experience, viz., of perceptions.

We are here concerned with "categories" or schemes of thought, the selection of which is, in principle, entirely open to us and whose qualification can only be judged by the degree to which its use contributes to making the totality of the contents of consciousness "intelligible." The above mentioned "objective factor" is the totality of such concepts and conceptual relations as are thought of as independent of experience, viz., of perceptions. So long as we move within the thus programmatically fixed sphere of thought we are thinking physically. Insofar as physical thinking justifies itself, in the more than once indicated sense, by its ability to grasp experiences intellectually, we regard it as "knowledge of the real." After what has been said, the "real" in physics is to be taken as a type of program, to which we are, however, not forced to cling a priori. No one is likely to be inclined to attempt to give up this program within the realm of the "macroscopic" (location of the mark on the paper strip "real"). But the "macroscopic" and the "microscopic" are so inter-related that it appears impracticable to give up this program in the "microscopic" alone. Nor can I see any occasion anywhere within the observable facts of the quantum-field for doing so, unless, indeed, one clings a priori to the thesis that the description of nature by the statistical scheme of quantum-mechanics is final. The theoretical attitude here advocated is distinct from that of Kant only by the fact that we do not conceive of the "categories" as unalterable (conditioned by the nature of the understanding) but as (in the logical sense) free conventions. They appear to be a priori only insofar as thinking without the positing of categories and of concepts in general would be as impossible as is breathing in a vacuum. From these meagre remarks one will see that to me it must seem a mistake to permit theoretical description to be directly dependent upon acts of empirical assertions, as it seems to me to be intended [for example] in Bohr's principle of complementarity, the sharp formulation of which, moreover, I have been unable to achieve despite much effort which I have expended on it. From my point of view [such] statements or measurements can occur only as special instances, viz., parts, of physical description, to which I cannot ascribe any exceptional position above the rest. The above mentioned essays by Bohr and Pauli contain a historical appreciation of my efforts in the area of physical statistics and quanta and, in addition, an accusation which is brought forward in the friendliest of fashion. In briefest formulation this latter runs as follows: "Rigid adherence to classical theory." This accusation demands either a defence or the confession of guilt. The one or the other is, however, being rendered much more difficult because it is by no means immediately clear what is meant by "classical theory." Newton's theory deserves the name of a classical theory. It has nevertheless been abandoned since Maxwell and Hertz have shown that the idea of forces at a distance has to be relinquished and that one cannot manage without the idea of continuous "fields." The opinion that continuous fields are to be viewed as the only acceptable basic concepts, which must also be assumed to underlie the theory of the material particles, soon won out. Now this conception became, so to speak, "classical;" but a proper, and in principle complete, theory has not grown out of it. Maxwell's theory of the electric field remained a torso, because it was unable to set up laws for the behaviour of electric density, without which there can, of course, be no such thing as an electro-magnetic field. Analogously the general theory of relativity furnished then a field theory of gravitation, but no theory of the field-creating masses. (These remarks presuppose it as self-evident that a field-theory may not contain any singularities, i.e., any positions or parts in space in which the field laws are not valid.) Consequently there is, strictly speaking, today no such thing as a classical field-theory; one can, therefore, also not rigidly adhere to it. Nevertheless, field-theory does exist as a program: "Continuous functions in the four-dimensional [continuum] as basic concepts of the theory." Rigid adherence to this program can rightfully be asserted of me. The deeper ground for this lies in the following: The theory of gravitation showed me that the non-linearity of these equations results in the fact that this theory yields interactions among structures (localised things) at all. But the theoretical search for non-linear equations is hopeless (because of too great variety of possibilities), if one does not use the general principle of relativity (invariance under general continuous co-ordinate-transformations). In the meantime, however, it does not seem possible to formulate this principle, if one seeks to deviate from the above program. Herein lies a coercion which I cannot evade. This for my justification. Nevertheless I am forced to weaken this justification by a confession. If one disregards quantum structure, one can justify the introduction of the gik "operationally" by pointing to the fact that one can hardly doubt the physical reality of the elementary light cone which belongs to a point. In doing so one implicitly makes use of the existence of an arbitrarily sharp optical signal. Such a signal, however, as regards the quantum facts, involves infinitely high frequencies and energies, and therefore a complete destruction of the field to be determined. That kind of a physical justification for the introduction of the gik falls by the wayside, unless one limits himself to the "macroscopic." The application of the formal basis of the general theory of relativity to the "microscopic" can, therefore, be based only upon the fact that that tensor is the formally simplest covariant structure which can come under consideration. Such argumentation, however, carries no weight with anyone who doubts that we have to adhere to the continuum at all. All honour to his doubt - but where else is there a passable road? Now I come to the theme of the relation of the theory of relativity to philosophy. Here it is Reichenbach's piece of work which, by the precision of deductions and by the sharpness of his assertions, irresistibly invites a brief commentary. Robertson's lucid discussion also is interesting mainly from the standpoint of general epistemology, although it limits itself to the narrower theme of "the theory of relativity and geometry." To the question: Do you consider true what Reichenbach has here asserted, I can answer only with Pilate's famous question: "What is truth?" Let us first take a good look at the question: Is a geometry - looked at from the physical point of view - verifiable (viz., falsifiable) or not?

Reichenbach, together with Helmholtz, says: Yes, provided that the empirically given solid body realises the concept of "distance." Poincare says no and consequently is condemned by Reichenbach. Now the following short conversation takes place: Poincare: The empirically given bodies are not rigid, and consequently can not be used for the embodiment of geometric intervals. Therefore, the theorems of geometry are not verifiable. Reichenbach: I admit that there are no bodies which can be immediately adduced for the "real definition" of the interval. Nevertheless, this real definition can be achieved by taking the thermal volume-dependence, elasticity, electro- and magnetostriction, etc., into consideration. That this is really [and] without contradiction possible, classical physics has surely demonstrated. Poincare: In gaining the real definition improved by yourself you have made use of physical laws, the formulation of which presupposes (in this case) Euclidean geometry. The verification, of which you have spoken, refers, therefore, not merely to geometry but to the entire system of physical laws which constitute its foundation. An examination of geometry by itself is consequently not thinkable. - Why should it consequently not be entirely up to me to choose geometry according to my own convenience (i.e., Euclidean) and to fit the remaining (in the usual sense "physical") laws to this choice in such manner that there can arise no contradiction of the whole with experience? (The conversation cannot be continued in this fashion because the respect of the [present] writer for Poincare's superiority as thinker and author does not permit it; in what follows therefore, an anonymous non-positivist is substituted for Poincare. - ) Reichenbach: There is something quite attractive in this conception. But, on the other hand, it is noteworthy that the adherence to the objective meaning of length and to the interpretation of the differences of co-ordinates as distances (in pre-relativistic physics) has not led to complications. Should we not, on the basis of this astounding fact, be justified in operating further at least tentatively with the concept of the measurable length, as if there were such things as rigid measuring-rods. In any case it would have been impossible for Einstein de facto (even if not theoretically) to set up the theory of general relativity, if he had not adhered to the objective meaning of length. Against Poincare's suggestion it is to be pointed out that what really matters is not merely the greatest possible simplicity of the geometry alone, but rather the greatest possible simplicity of all of physics (inclusive of geometry). This is what is, in the first instance, involved in the fact that today we must decline as unsuitable the suggestion to adhere to Euclidean geometry. Non-Positivist: If, under the stated circumstances, you hold distance to be a legitimate concept, how then is it with your basic principle (meaning = verifiability) ? Do you not have to reach the point where you must deny the meaning of geometrical concepts and theorems and to acknowledge meaning only within the completely developed theory of relativity (which, however, does not yet exist at all as a finished product)? Do you not have to admit that, in your sense of the word, no "meaning" can be attributed to the individual concepts and assertions of a physical theory at all, and to the entire system only insofar as it makes what is given in experience "intelligible?" Why do the individual concepts which occur in a theory require any specific Justification anyway, if they are only indispensable within the framework of the logical structure of the theory, and the theory only in its entirety validates itself? It seems to me, moreover, that you have not at all done justice to the really significant philosophical achievement of Kant. From Hume Kant had learned that there are concepts (as, for example, that of causal connection), which play a dominating role in our thinking, and which, nevertheless, can not be deduced by means of a logical process from the empirically given (a fact which several empiricists recognise, it is true, but seem always again to forget). What justifies the use of such concepts? Suppose he had replied in this sense: Thinking is necessary in order to understand the empirically given, and concepts and "categories" are necessary as indispensable elements of thinking. If he had remained satisfied with this type of an answer, he would have avoided scepticism and you would not have been able to find fault with him. He, however, was misled by the erroneous opinion, difficult to avoid in his time - that Euclidean geometry is necessary to thinking and offers assured (i.e., not dependent upon sensory experience) knowledge concerning the objects of "external" perception. From this easily understandable error he concluded the existence of synthetic judgments a priori, which are produced by the reason alone, and which, consequently, can lay claim to absolute validity. I think your censure is directed less against Kant himself than against those who today still adhere to the errors of "synthetic judgments a priori." I can hardly think of anything more stimulating as the basis for discussion in an epistemological seminar than this brief essay by Reichenbach (best taken together with Robertson's essay). What has been discussed thus far is closely related to Bridgman's essay, so that it will be possible for me to express myself quite briefly without having to harbour too much fear that I shall be misunderstood. In order to be able to consider a logical system as physical theory it is not necessary to demand that all of its assertions can be independently interpreted and "tested" "operationally;" de facto this has never yet been achieved by any theory and can not at all be achieved. In order to be able to consider a theory as a physical theory it is only necessary that it implies empirically testable assertions in general. This formulation is insofar entirely unprecise as "testability" is a quality which refers not merely to the assertion itself but also to the co-ordination of concepts, contained in it, with experience. But it is probably hardly necessary for me to enter upon a discussion of this ticklish problem, inasmuch as it is not likely that there exist any essential differences of opinion at this point. - Margenau;. This essay contains several original specific remarks, which I must consider separately: To his Sec. I: "Einstein's position . . . contains features of rationalism and extreme empiricism...." This remark is entirely correct.

From whence comes this fluctuation? A logical conceptual system is physics insofar as its concepts and assertions are necessarily brought into relationship with the world of experiences. Whoever desires to set up such a system will find a dangerous obstacle in arbitrary choice (embarras de richesse). This is why he seeks to connect his concepts as directly and necessarily as possible with the world of experience. In this case his attitude is empirical. This path is often fruitful, but it is always open to doubt, because the specific concept and the individual assertion can, after all, assert something confronted by the empirically given only in connection with the entire system. He then recognises that there exists no logical path from the empirically given to that conceptual world. His attitude becomes then more nearly rationalistic, because he recognises the logical independence of the system. The danger in this attitude lies in the fact that in the search for the system one can lose every contact with the world of experience. A wavering between these extremes appears to me unavoidable. To his Sec. 2: I did not grow up in the Kantian tradition, but came to understand the truly valuable which is to be found in his doctrine, alongside of errors which today are quite obvious, only quite late. It is contained in the sentence: "The real is not given to us, but put to us (aufgegeben) (by way of a riddle)." This obviously means: There is such a thing as a conceptual construction for the grasping of the inter-personal, the authority of which lies purely in its validation. This conceptual construction refers precisely to the "real" (by definition), and every further question concerning the "nature of the real" appears empty. To his Sec. 4: This discussion has not convinced me at all. For it is clear per se that every magnitude and every assertion of a theory lays claim to "objective meaning" (within the framework of the theory). A problem arises only when we ascribe group-characteristics to a theory, i.e., if we assume or postulate that the same physical situation admits of several ways of description, each of which is to be viewed as equally justified. For in this case we obviously cannot ascribe complete objective meaning (for example the x-component of the velocity of a particle or its x-coordinates) to the individual (not eliminable) magnitudes. In this case, which has always existed in physics, we have to limit ourselves to ascribing objective meaning to the general laws of the theory, i.e., we have to demand that these laws are valid for every description of the system which is recognised as justified by the group. It is, therefore, not true that "objectivity" presupposes a group-characteristic, but that the group-characteristic forces a refinement of the concept of objectivity. The positing of group characteristics is heuristically so important for theory, because this characteristic always considerably limits the variety of the mathematically meaningful laws. Now there follows a claim that the group-characteristics determine that the laws must have the form of differential equations; I can not at all see this. Then Margenau insists that the laws expressed by way of the differential equations (especially the partial ones) are "least specific." Upon what does he base this contention? If they could be proved to be correct, it is true that the attempt to ground physics upon differential equations would then turn out to be hopeless. We are, however, far from being able to judge whether differential laws of the type to be considered have any solutions at all which are everywhere singularity-free; and, if so, whether there are too many such solutions. And now just a remark concerning the discussions about the Einstein-Podolski-Rosen Paradox. I do not think that Margenau's defence of the "orthodox" ("orthodox" refers to the thesis that the t-function characterises the individual system exhaustively) quantum position hits the essential [aspects]. Of the "orthodox" quantum theoreticians whose position I know, Niels Bohr's seems to me to come nearest to doing justice to the problem. Translated into my own way of putting it, he argues as follows: If the partial systems A and B form a total system which is described by its Psi-function Psi/(AB), there is no reason why any mutually independent existence (state of reality) should be ascribed to the partial systems A and B viewed separately, not even if the partial systems are spatially separated from each other at the particular time under consideration. The assertion that, in this latter case, the real situation of B could not be (directly) influenced by any measurement taken on A is, therefore, within the framework of quantum theory, unfounded and (as the paradox shows) unacceptable. By this way of looking at the matter it becomes evident that the paradox forces us to relinquish one of the following two assertions: (1) the description by means of the Psi-function is complete (2) the real states of spatially separated objects are independent of each other. On the other hand, it is possible to adhere to (2), if one regards the Psi-function as the description of a (statistical) ensemble of systems (and therefore relinquishes (1) ) . However, this view blasts the framework of the "orthodox quantum theory." One more remark to Margenau's Sec. 7. In the characterisation of quantum mechanics the brief little sentence will be found: "on the classical level it corresponds to ordinary dynamics." This is entirely correct - cum grano salis; and it is precisely this granum salis which is significant for the question of interpretation. If our concern is with macroscopic masses (billiard balls or stars), we are operating with very short de Broglie-waves, which are determinative for the behaviour of the center of gravity of such masses. This is the reason why it is possible to arrange the quantum-theoretical description for a reasonable time in such a manner that for the macroscopic way of viewing things, it becomes sufficiently precise in position as well as in momentum.

This is the reason why it is possible to arrange the quantum-theoretical description for a reasonable time in such a manner that for the macroscopic way of viewing things, it becomes sufficiently precise in position as well as in momentum. It is true also that this sharpness remains for a long time and that the quasi-points thus represented behave just like the mass-points of classical mechanics. However, the theory shows also that, after a sufficiently long time, the point-like character of the Psi-function is completely lost to the center of gravity-co-ordinates, so that one can no longer speak of any quasi-localisation of the centers of gravity. The picture then becomes, for example in the case of a single macro-mass-point, quite similar to that involved in a single free electron. If now, in accordance with the orthodox position, I view the Psi-function as the complete description of a real matter of fact for the individual case, I cannot but consider the essentially unlimited lack of sharpness of the position of the (macroscopic) body as real. On the other hand, however, we know that, by illuminating the body by means of a lantern at rest against the system of co-ordinates, we get a (macroscopically judged) sharp determination of position. In order to comprehend this I must assume that that sharply defined position is determined not merely by the real situation of the observed body, but also by the act of illumination. This is again a paradox (similar to the mark on the paper strip in the above mentioned example). The spook disappears only if one relinquishes the orthodox standpoint, according to which the Psi-function is accepted as a complete description of the single system. It may appear as if all such considerations were just superfluous learned hairsplitting, which have nothing to do with physics proper. However, it depends precisely upon such considerations in which direction one believes one must look for the future conceptual basis of physics. I close these expositions, which have grown rather lengthy, concerning the interpretation of quantum theory with the reproduction of a brief conversation which I had with an important theoretical physicist. He: "I am inclined to believe in telepathy." I: "This has probably more to do with physics than with psychology." He: "Yes." The essays by Lenzen and Northrop both aim to treat my occasional utterances of epistemological content systematically. From those utterances Lenzen constructs a synoptic total picture, in which what is missing in the utterances is carefully and with delicacy of feeling supplied. Everything said therein appears to me convincing and correct. Northrop uses these utterances as point of departure for a comparative critique of the major epistemological systems. I see in this critique a masterpiece of unbiased thinking and concise discussion, which nowhere permits itself to be diverted from the essential. The reciprocal relationship of epistemology and science is of noteworthy kind. They are dependent upon each other. Epistemology without contact with science becomes an empty scheme. Science without epistemology is - insofar as it is thinkable at all - primitive and muddled. However, no sooner has the epistemologist, who is seeking a clear system, fought his way through to such a system, than he is inclined to interpret the thought-content of science in the sense of his system and to reject whatever does not fit into his system. The scientist, however, cannot afford to carry his striving for epistemological systematic that far. He accepts gratefully the epistemological conceptual analysis; but the external conditions, which are set for him by the facts of experience, do not permit him to let himself be too much restricted in the construction of his conceptual world by the adherence to an epistemological system. He therefore must appear to the systematic epistemologist as a type of unscrupulous opportunist: he appears as realist insofar as he seeks to describe a world independent of the acts of perception; as idealist insofar as he looks upon the concepts and theories as the free inventions of the human spirit (not logically derivable from what is empirically given); as positivist insofar as he considers his concepts and theories justified only to the extent to which they furnish a logical representation of relations among sensory experiences. He may even appear as Platonist or Pythagorean insofar as he considers the viewpoint of logical simplicity as an indispensable and effective tool of his research. All of this is splendidly elucidated in Lenzen's and Northrop's essays. And now a few remarks concerning the essays by E. A. Milne, G. Lemaitre, and L. Infeld as concerns the cosmological problem: Concerning Milne's ingenious reflections I can only say that I find their theoretical basis too narrow. From my point of view one cannot arrive, by way of theory, at any at least somewhat reliable results in the field of cosmology, if one makes no use of the principle of general relativity. As concerns Lemaître's arguments in favour of the so-called "cosmological constant" in the equations of gravitation, I must admit that these arguments do not appear to me as sufficiently convincing in view of the present state of our knowledge. The introduction of such a constant implies a considerable renunciation of the logical simplicity of theory, a renunciation which appeared to me unavoidable only so long as one had no reason to doubt the essentially static nature of space. After Hubble's discovery of the "expansion" of the stellar system, and since Friedmann's discovery that the unsupplemented equations involve the possibility of the existence of an average (positive) density of matter in an expanding universe, the introduction of such a constant appears to me, from the theoretical standpoint, at present unjustified. The situation becomes complicated by the fact that the entire duration of the expansion of space to the present, based on the equations in their simplest form, turns out smaller than appears credible in view of the reliably known age of terrestrial minerals. But the introduction of the "cosmological constant" offers absolutely no natural escape from the difficulty.

But the introduction of the "cosmological constant" offers absolutely no natural escape from the difficulty. This latter difficulty is given by way of the numerical value of Hubble's expansion-constant and the age-measurement of minerals, completely independent of any cosmological theory, provided that one interprets the Hubble-effect as Doppler effect. Everything finally depends upon the question: Can a spectral line be considered as a measure of a "proper time" (Eigen-Zeit) ds (ds2 = gikdxidxk), (if one takes into consideration regions of cosmic dimensions)? Is there such a thing as a natural object which incorporates the "natural-measuring-stick" independently of its position in four-dimensional space? The affirmation of this question made the invention of the general theory of relativity psychologically possible; however this supposition is logically not necessary. For the construction of the present theory of relativity the following is essential: (1) Physical things are described by continuous functions, field-variables of four co-ordinates. As long as the topological connection is preserved, these latter can be freely chosen. (2) The field-variables are tensor-components; among the tensors is a symmetrical tensor gik for the description of the gravitational field. (3) There are physical objects, which (in the macroscopic field) measure the invariant ds. If (1) and (2) are accepted, (3) is plausible, but not necessary. The construction of mathematical theory rests exclusively upon (1) and (2). A complete theory of physics as a totality, in accordance with (1) and (2) does not yet exist. If it did exist, there would be no room for the supposition (3). For the objects used as tools for measurement do not lead an independent existence alongside of the objects implicated by the field-equations. - - It is not necessary that one should permit one's cosmological considerations to be restrained by such a sceptical attitude; but neither should one close one's mind towards them from the very beginning. These reflections bring me to Karl Menger's essay. For the quantum-facts suggest the suspicion that doubt may also be raised concerning the ultimate usefulness of the program characterised in (1) and (2). There exists the possibility of doubting only (2) and, in doing so, to question the possibility of being able adequately to formulate the laws by means of differential equations, without dropping (1). The more radical effort of surrendering (1) with (2) appears to me - and I believe to Dr. Menger also - to lie more closely at hand. So long as no one has new concepts, which appear to have sufficient constructive power, mere doubt remains; this is, unfortunately, my own situation. Adhering to the continuum originates with me not in a prejudice, but arises out of the fact that I have been unable to think up anything organic to take its place. How is one to conserve four-dimensionality in essence (or in near approximation) and [at the same time] surrender the continuum? L. Infeld's essay is an independently understandable, excellent introduction into the so-called "cosmological problem" of the theory of relativity, which critically examines all essential points. Max von Laue: An historical investigation of the development of the conservation postulates, which, in my opinion, is of lasting value. I think it would be worth while to make this essay easily accessible to students by way of independent publication. In spite of serious efforts I have not succeeded in quite understanding H. Dingle's essay, not even as concerns its aim. Is the idea of the special theory of relativity to be expanded in the sense that new group-characteristics, which are not implied by the Lorentz-invariance, are to be postulated? Are these postulates empirically founded or only by way of a trial "posited"? Upon what does the confidence in the existence of such group-characteristics rest? Kurt Gödel's essay constitutes, in my opinion, an important contribution to the general theory of relativity, especially to the analysis of the concept of time. The problem here involved disturbed me already at the time of the building up of the general theory of relativity, without my having succeeded in clarifying it. Entirely aside from the relation of the theory of relativity to idealistic philosophy or to any philosophical formulation of questions, the problem presents itself as follows: If P is a world-point, a "light-cone" (ds2= 0) belongs to it. We draw a "time-like" world-line through P and on this line observe the close world-points B and A, separated by P. Does it make any sense to provide the world-line with an arrow, and to assert that B is before P, A after P?

Does it make any sense to provide the world-line with an arrow, and to assert that B is before P, A after P? Is what remains of temporal connection between world-points in the theory of relativity an asymmetrical relation, or would one be just as much justified, from the physical point of view, to indicate the arrow in the opposite direction and to assert that A is before P, B after P? In the first instance the alternative is decided in the negative, if we are justified in saying: If it is possible to send (to telegraph) a signal (also passing by in the close proximity of P) from B to A, but not from A to B, then the one-sided (asymmetrical) character of time is secured, i.e., there exists no free choice for the direction of the arrow. What is essential in this is the fact that the sending of a signal is, in the sense of thermodynamics, an irreversible process, a process which is connected with the growth of entropy (whereas, according to our present knowledge, all elementary processes are reversible). If, therefore, B and A are two, sufficiently neighbouring, world-points, which can be connected by a time-like line, then the assertion: "B is before A," makes physical sense. But does this assertion still make sense, if the points, which are connectable by the time-like line, are arbitrarily far separated from each other? Certainly not, if there exist point-series connectable by time-like lines in such a way that each point precedes temporally the preceding one, and if the series is closed in itself. In that case the distinction "earlier-later" is abandoned for world-points which lie far apart in a cosmological sense, and those paradoxes, regarding the direction of the causal connection, arise, of which Mr. Gödel has spoken. Such cosmological solutions of the gravitation-equations (with not vanishing A-constant) have been found by Mr. Gödel. It will be interesting to weigh whether these are not to be excluded on physical grounds. I have the distressing feeling that I have expressed myself, in this reply, not merely somewhat longwindedly but also rather sharply. This observation may serve as my excuse: one can really quarrel only with his brothers or close friends; others are too alien [for that]. P.S. The preceding remarks refer to essays which were in my hands at the end of January 1949. Inasmuch as the volume was to have appeared in March, it was high time to write down these reflections. After they had been concluded I learned that the publication of the volume would experience a further delay and that some additional important essays had come in. I decided, nevertheless, not to expand my remarks further, which had already become too long, and to desist from taking any position with reference to those essays which came into my hands after the conclusion of my remarks. Further Reading: Biography | Einstein Archive | Bridgman | Bohr Philosophy Archive @ marxists.org

Charles Peirce (1878) How to Make our Ideas Clear Source: How to make our Ideas Clear (1878), from Writings of Charles S Peirce, Volume 3, Indiana University Press. 3 of 4 parts, excluding Part I reproduced here. See also What Is a Sign?, Three Trichotomies of Signs, On Hegel. II The principles set forth in the first of these papers lead, at once, to a method of reaching a clearness of thought of a far higher grade than the "distinctness" of the logicians. We have there found that the action of thought is excited by the irritation of doubt, and ceases when belief is attained; so that the production of belief is the sole function of thought. All these words, however, are too strong for my purpose. It is as if I had described the phenomena as they appear under a mental microscope. Doubt and Belief, as the words are commonly employed, relate to religious or other grave discussions. But here I use them to designate the starting of any question, no matter how small or how great, and the resolution of it. If, for instance, in a horse-car, I pull out my purse and find a five-cent nickel and five coppers, I decide, while my hand is going to the purse, in which way I will pay my fare. To call such a question Doubt, and my decision Belief, is certainly to use words very disproportionate to the occasion. To speak of such a doubt as causing an irritation which needs to be appeased, suggests a temper which is uncomfortable to the verge of insanity. Yet, looking at the matter minutely, it must be admitted that, if there is the least hesitation as to whether I shall pay the five coppers or the nickel (as there will be sure to be, unless I act from some previously contracted habit in the matter), though irritation is too strong a word, yet I am excited to such small mental activity as may be necessary to deciding how I shall act. Most frequently doubts arise from some indecision, however momentary, in our action. Sometimes it is not so. I have, for example, to wait in a railway-station, and to pass the time I read the advertisements on the walls, I compare the advantages of different trains and different routes which I never expect to take, merely fancying myself to be in a state of hesitancy, because I am bored with having nothing to trouble me. Feigned hesitancy, whether feigned for mere amusement or with a lofty purpose, plays a great part in the production of scientific inquiry. However the doubt may originate, it stimulates the mind to an activity which may be slight or energetic, calm or turbulent. Images pass rapidly through consciousness, one incessantly melting into another, until at last, when all is over - it may be in a fraction of a second, in an hour, or after long years - we find ourselves decided as to how we should act under such circumstances as those which occasioned our hesitation. In other words, we have attained belief. In this process we observe two sorts of elements of consciousness, the distinction between which may best be made clear by means of an illustration. In a piece of music there are the separate notes, and there is the air. A single tone may be prolonged for an hour or a day, and it exists as perfectly in each second of that time as in the whole taken together; so that, as long as it is sounding, it might be present to a sense from which everything in the past was as completely absent as the future itself. But it is different with the air, the performance of which occupies a certain time, during the portions of which only portions of it are played. It consists in an orderliness in the succession of sounds which strike the ear at different times; and to perceive it there must be some continuity of consciousness which makes the events of a lapse of time present to us. We certainly only perceive the air by hearing the separate notes; yet we cannot be said to directly hear it, for we hear only what is present at the instant, and an orderliness of succession cannot exist in an instant. These two sorts of objects, what we are immediately conscious of and what we are mediately conscious of, are found in all consciousness. Some elements (the sensations) are completely present at every instant so long as they last, while others (like thought) are actions having beginning, middle, and end, and consist in a congruence in the succession of sensations which flow through the mind. They cannot be immediately present to us, but must cover some portion of the past or future. Thought is a thread of melody running through the succession of our sensations. We may add that just as a piece of music may be written in parts, each part having its own air, so various systems of relationship of succession subsist together between the same sensations. These different systems are distinguished by having different motives, ideas, or functions. Thought is only one such system, for its sole motive, idea, and function, is to produce belief, and whatever does not concern that purpose belongs to some other system of relations. The action of thinking may incidentally have other results; it may serve to amuse us, for example, and among dilettanti it is not rare to find those who have so perverted thought to the purposes of pleasure that it seems to vex them to think that the questions upon which they delight to exercise it may ever get finally settled; and a positive discovery which takes a favorite subject out of the arena of literary debate is met with ill-concealed dislike. This disposition is the very debauchery of thought. But the soul and meaning of thought, abstracted from the other elements which accompany it, though it may be voluntarily thwarted, can never be made to direct itself toward anything but the production of belief. Thought in action has for its only possible motive the attainment of thought at rest; and whatever does not refer to belief is no part of the thought itself. And what, then, is belief? It is the demi-cadence which closes a musical phrase in the symphony of our intellectual life. We have seen that it has just three properties: First, it is something that we are aware of; second, it appeases the irritation of doubt; and, third, it involves the establishment in our nature of a rule of action, or, say for short, a habit.

and, third, it involves the establishment in our nature of a rule of action, or, say for short, a habit. As it appeases the irritation of doubt, which is the motive for thinking, thought relaxes, and comes to rest for a moment when belief is reached. But, since belief is a rule for action, the application of which involves further doubt and further thought, at the same time that it is a stopping-place, it is also a new starting-place for thought. That is why I have permitted myself to call it thought at rest, although thought is essentially an action. The final upshot of thinking is the exercise of volition, and of this thought no longer forms a part; but belief is only a stadium of mental action, an effect upon our nature due to thought, which will influence future thinking. The essence of belief is the establishment of a habit, and different beliefs are distinguished by the different modes of action to which they give rise. If beliefs do not differ in this respect, if they appease the same doubt by producing the same rule of action, then no mere differences in the manner of consciousness of them can make them different beliefs, any more than playing a tune in different keys is playing different tunes. Imaginary distinctions are often drawn between beliefs which differ only in their mode of expression; - the wrangling which ensues is real enough, however. To believe that any objects are arranged as in Fig. 1, and to believe that they are arranged in Fig. 2, are one and the same belief; yet it is conceivable that a man should assert one proposition and deny the other. Such false distinctions do as much harm as the confusion of beliefs really different, and are among the pitfalls of which we ought constantly to beware, especially when we are upon metaphysical ground. One singular deception of this sort, which often occurs, is to mistake the sensation produced by our own unclearness of thought for a character of the object we are thinking. Instead of perceiving that the obscurity is purely subjective, we fancy that we contemplate a quality of the object which is essentially mysterious; and if our conception be afterward presented to us in a clear form we do not recognise it as the same, owing to the absence of the feeling of unintelligibility. So long as this deception lasts, it obviously puts an impassable barrier in the way of perspicuous thinking; so that it equally interests the opponents of rational thought to perpetuate it, and its adherents to guard against it. Another such deception is to mistake a mere difference in the grammatical construction of two words for a distinction between the ideas they express. In this pedantic age, when the general mob of writers attend so much more to words than to things, this error is common enough. When I just said that thought is an action, and that it consists in a relation, although a person performs an action but not a relation, which can only be the result of an action, yet there was no inconsistency in what I said, but only a grammatical vagueness. From all these sophisms we shall be perfectly safe so long as we reflect that the whole function of thought is to produce habits of action; and that whatever there is connected with a thought, but irrelevant to its purpose, is an accretion to it, but no part of it. If there be a unity among our sensations which has no reference to how we shall act on a given occasion, as when we listen to a piece of music, why we do not call that thinking. To develop its meaning, we have, therefore, simply to determine what habits it produces, for what a thing means is simply what habits it involves. Now, the identity of a habit depends on how it might lead us to act, not merely under such circumstances as are likely to arise, but under such as might possibly occur, no matter how improbable they may be. What the habit is depends on when and how it causes us to act. As for the when, every stimulus to action is derived from perception; as for the how, every purpose of action is to produce some sensible result. Thus, we come down to what is tangible and practical, as the root of every real distinction of thought, no matter how subtle it may be; and there is no distinction of meaning so fine as to consist in anything but a possible difference of practice. To see what this principle leads to, consider in the light of it such a doctrine as that of transubstantiation. The Protestant churches generally hold that the elements of the sacrament are flesh and blood only in a tropical sense; they nourish our souls as meat and the juice of it would our bodies. But the Catholics maintain that they are literally just that; although they possess all the sensible qualities of wafer-cakes and diluted wine. But we can have no conception of wine except what may enter into a belief, either: That this, that, or the other, is wine; or, That wine possesses certain properties. Such beliefs are nothing but self-notifications that we should, upon occasion, act in regard to such things as we believe to be wine according to the qualities which we believe wine to possess. The occasion of such action would be some sensible perception, the motive of it to produce some sensible result. Thus our action has exclusive reference to what affects the senses, our habit has the same bearing as our action, our belief the same as our habit, our conception the same as our belief; and we can consequently mean nothing by wine but what has certain effects, direct or indirect, upon our senses; and to talk of something as having all the sensible characters of wine, yet being in reality blood, is senseless jargon. Now, it is not my object to pursue the theological question; and having used it as a logical example I drop it, without caring to anticipate the theologian's reply. I only desire to point out how impossible it is that we should have an idea in our minds which relates to anything but conceived sensible effects of things. Our idea of anything is our idea of its sensible effects;

Our idea of anything is our idea of its sensible effects; and if we fancy that we have any other we deceive ourselves, and mistake a mere sensation accompanying the thought for a part of the thought itself. It is absurd to say that thought has any meaning unrelated to its only function. It is foolish for Catholics and Protestants to fancy themselves in disagreement about the elements of the sacrament, if they agree in regard to all their sensible effects, here or hereafter. It appears, then, that the rule for attaining the third grade of clearness of apprehension is as follows: Consider what effects, which might conceivably have practical bearings, we conceive the object of our conception to have. Then, our conception of these effects is the whole of our conception of the object. III Let us illustrate this rule by some examples; and, to begin with the simplest one possible, let us ask what we mean by calling a thing hard. Evidently that it will not be scratched by many other substances. The whole conception of this quality, as of every other, lies in its conceived effects. There is absolutely no difference between a hard thing and a soft thing so long as they are not brought to the test. Suppose, then, that a diamond could be crystallised in the midst of a cushion of soft cotton, and should remain there until it was finally burned up. Would it be false to say that that diamond was soft? This seems a foolish question, and would be so, in fact, except in the realm of logic. There such questions are often of the greatest utility as serving to bring logical principles into sharper relief than real discussions ever could. In studying logic we must not put them aside with hasty answers, but must consider them with attentive care, in order to make out the principles involved. We may, in the present case, modify our question, and ask what prevents us from saying that all hard bodies remain perfectly soft until they are touched, when their hardness increases with the pressure until they are scratched. Reflection will show that the reply is this: there would be no falsity in such modes of speech. They would involve a modification of our present usage of speech with regard to the words hard and soft, but not of their meanings. For they represent no fact to be different from what it is; only they involve arrangements of facts which would be exceedingly maladroit. This leads us to remark that the question of what would occur under circumstances which do not actually arise is not a question of fact, but only of the most perspicuous arrangement of them. For example, the question of free-will and fate in its simplest form, stripped of verbiage, is something like this: I have done something of which I am ashamed; could I, by an effort of the will, have resisted the temptation, and done otherwise? The philosophical reply is, that this is not a question of fact, but only of the arrangement of facts. Arranging them so as to exhibit what is particularly pertinent to my question - namely, that I ought to blame myself for having done wrong - it is perfectly true to say that, if I had willed to do otherwise than I did, I should have done otherwise. On the other hand, arranging the facts so as to exhibit another important consideration, it is equally true that, when a temptation has once been allowed to work, it will, if it has a certain force, produce its effect, let me struggle how I may. There is no objection to a contradiction in what would result from a false supposition. The reductio ad absurdum consists in showing that contradictory results would follow from a hypothesis which is consequently judged to be false. Many questions are involved in the free-will discussion, and I am far from desiring to say that both sides are equally right. On the contrary, I am of opinion that one side denies important facts, and that the other does not. But what I do say is, that the above single question was the origin of the whole doubt; that, had it not been for this question, the controversy would never have arisen; and that this question is perfectly solved in the manner which I have indicated. Let us next seek a clear idea of Weight. This is another very easy case. To say that a body is heavy means simply that, in the absence of opposing force, it will fall. This (neglecting certain specifications of how it will fall, etc., which exist in the mind of the physicist who uses the word) is evidently the whole conception of weight. It is a fair question whether some particular facts may not account for gravity; but what we mean by the force itself is completely involved in its effects. This leads us to undertake an account of the idea of Force in general. This is the great conception which, developed in the early part of the seventeenth century from the rude idea of a cause, and constantly improved upon since, has shown us how to explain all the changes of motion which bodies experience, and how to think about all physical phenomena; which has given birth to modern science, and changed the face of the globe; and which, aside from its more special uses, has played a principal part in directing the course of modern thought, and in furthering modern social development. It is, therefore, worth some pains to comprehend it. According to our rule, we must begin by asking what is the immediate use of thinking about force; and the answer is, that we thus account for changes of motion. If bodies were left to themselves, without the intervention of forces, every motion would continue unchanged both in velocity and in direction. Furthermore, change of motion never takes place abruptly;

Furthermore, change of motion never takes place abruptly; if its direction is changed, it is always through a curve without angles; if its velocity alters, it is by degrees. The gradual changes which are constantly taking place are conceived by geometers to be compounded together according to the rules of the parallelogram of forces. If the reader does not already know what this is, he will find it, I hope, to his advantage to endeavour to follow the following explanation; but if mathematics are insupportable to him, pray let him skip three paragraphs rather than that we should part company here. A path is a line whose beginning and end are distinguished. Two paths are considered to be equivalent, which, beginning at the same point, lead to the same point. Thus the two paths, ABCDE and AFGHE, are equivalent. Paths which do not begin at the same point are considered to be equivalent, provided that, on moving either of them without turning it, but keeping it always parallel to its original position, when its beginning coincides with that of the other path, the ends also coincide. Paths are considered as geometrically added together, when one begins where the other ends; thus the path AE is conceived to be a sum of AB, BC, CD, and DE. In the parallelogram of Fig. 4 the diagonal AC is the sum of AB and BC; or, since AD is geometrically equivalent to BC, AC is the geometrical sum of AB and AD. All this is purely conventional. It simply amounts to this: that we choose to call paths having the relations I have described equal or added. But, though it is a convention, it is a convention with a good reason. The rule for geometrical addition may be applied not only to paths, but to any other things which can be represented by paths. Now, as a path is determined by the varying direction and distance of the point which moves over it from the starting-point, it follows that anything which from its beginning to its end is determined by a varying direction and a varying magnitude is capable of being represented by a line. Accordingly, velocities may be represented by lines, for they have only directions and rates. The same thing is true of accelerations, or changes of velocities. This is evident enough in the case of velocities; and it becomes evident for accelerations if we consider that precisely what velocities are to positions - namely, states of change of them - that accelerations are to velocities. The so-called "parallelogram of forces" is simply a rule for compounding accelerations. The rule is, to represent the accelerations by paths, and then to geometrically add the paths. The geometers, however, not only use the "parallelogram of forces" to compound different accelerations, but also to resolve one acceleration into a sum of several. Let AB (Fig. 5) be the path which represents a certain acceleration - say, such a change in the motion of a body that at the end of one second the body will, under the influence of that change, be in a position different from what it would have had if its motion had continued unchanged such that a path equivalent to AB would lead from the latter position to the former. This acceleration may be considered as the sum of the accelerations represented by AC and CB. It may also be considered as the sum of the very different accelerations represented by AD and DB, where AD is almost the opposite of AC. And it is clear that there is an immense variety of ways in which AB might be resolved into the sum of two accelerations. After this tedious explanation, which I hope, in view of the extraordinary interest of the conception of force, may not have exhausted the reader's patience, we are prepared at last to state the grand fact which this conception embodies. This fact is that if the actual changes of motion which the different particles of bodies experience are each resolved in its appropriate way, each component acceleration is precisely such as is prescribed by a certain law of Nature, according to which bodies in the relative positions which the bodies in question actually have at the moment, always receive certain accelerations, which, being compounded by geometrical addition, give the acceleration which the body actually experiences. This is the only fact which the idea of force represents, and whoever will take the trouble clearly to apprehend what this fact is, perfectly comprehends what force is. Whether we ought to say that a force is an acceleration, or that it causes an acceleration, is a mere question of propriety of language, which has no more to do with our real meaning than the difference between the French idiom "Il fait froid" and its English equivalent "It is cold." Yet it is surprising to see how this simple affair has muddled men's minds. In how many profound treatises is not force spoken of as a "mysterious entity," which seems to be only a way of confessing that the author despairs of ever getting a clear notion of what the word means! In a recent admired work on "Analytic Mechanics" it is stated that we understand precisely the effect of force, but what force itself is we do not understand! This is simply a self-contradiction. The idea which the word force excites in our minds has no other function than to affect our actions, and these actions can have no reference to force otherwise than through its effects. Consequently, if we know what the effects of force are, we are acquainted with every fact which is implied in saying that a force exists, and there is nothing more to know. The truth is, there is some vague notion afloat that a question may mean something which the mind cannot conceive; and when some hair-splitting philosophers have been confronted with the absurdity of such a view, they have invented an empty distinction between positive and negative conceptions, in the attempt to give their non-idea a form not obviously nonsensical. The nullity of it is sufficiently plain from the considerations given a few pages back; and, apart from those considerations, the quibbling character of the distinction must have struck every mind accustomed to real thinking. IV Let us now approach the subject of logic, and consider a conception which particularly concerns it, that of reality. Taking clearness in the sense of familiarity, no idea could be clearer than this. Every child uses it with perfect confidence, never dreaming that he does not understand it. As for clearness in its second grade, however, it would probably puzzle most men, even among those of a reflective turn of mind, to give an abstract definition of the real.

As for clearness in its second grade, however, it would probably puzzle most men, even among those of a reflective turn of mind, to give an abstract definition of the real. Yet such a definition may perhaps be reached by considering the points of difference between reality and its opposite, fiction. A figment is a product of somebody's imagination; it has such characters as his thought impresses upon it. That whose characters are independent of how you or I think is an external reality. There are, however, phenomena within our own minds, dependent upon our thought, which are at the same time real in the sense that we really think them. But though their characters depend on how we think, they do not depend on what we think those characters to be. Thus, a dream has a real existence as a mental phenomenon, if somebody has really dreamt it; that he dreamt so and so, does not depend on what anybody thinks was dreamt, but is completely independent of all opinion on the subject. On the other hand, considering, not the fact of dreaming, but the thing dreamt, it retains its peculiarities by virtue of no other fact than that it was dreamt to possess them. Thus we may define the real as that whose characters are independent of what anybody may think them to be. But, however satisfactory such a definition may be found, it would be a great mistake to suppose that it makes the idea of reality perfectly clear. Here, then, let us apply our rules. According to them, reality, like every other quality, consists in the peculiar sensible effects which things partaking of it produce. The only effect which real things have is to cause belief, for all the sensations which they excite emerge into consciousness in the form of beliefs. The question therefore is, how is true belief (or belief in the real) distinguished from false belief (or belief in fiction). Now, as we have seen in the former paper, the ideas of truth and falsehood, in their full development, appertain exclusively to the scientific method of settling opinion. A person who arbitrarily chooses the propositions which he will adopt can use the word truth only to emphasise the expression of his determination to hold on to his choice. Of course, the method of tenacity never prevailed exclusively; reason is too natural to men for that. But in the literature of the dark ages we find some fine examples of it. When Scotus Erigena is commenting upon a poetical passage in which hellebore is spoken of as having caused the death of Socrates, he does not hesitate to inform the inquiring reader that Helleborus and Socrates were two eminent Greek philosophers, and that the latter having been overcome in argument by the former took the matter to heart and died of it! What sort of an idea of truth could a man have who could adopt and teach, without the qualification of a perhaps, an opinion taken so entirely at random? The real spirit of Socrates, who I hope would have been delighted to have been "overcome in argument," because he would have learned something by it, is in curious contrast with the naive idea of the glossist, for whom discussion would seem to have been simply a struggle. When philosophy began to awake from its long slumber, and before theology completely dominated it, the practice seems to have been for each professor to seize upon any philosophical position he found unoccupied and which seemed a strong one, to intrench himself in it, and to sally forth from time to time to give battle to the others. Thus, even the scanty records we possess of those disputes enable us to make out a dozen or more opinions held by different teachers at one time concerning the question of nominalism and realism. Read the opening part of the "Historia Calamitatum" of Abelard, who was certainly as philosophical as any of his contemporaries, and see the spirit of combat which it breathes. For him, the truth is simply his particular stronghold. When the method of authority prevailed, the truth meant little more than the Catholic faith. All the efforts of the scholastic doctors are directed toward harmonising their faith in Aristotle and their faith in the Church, and one may search their ponderous folios through without finding an argument which goes any further. It is noticeable that where different faiths flourish side by side, renegades are looked upon with contempt even by the party whose belief they adopt; so completely has the idea of loyalty replaced that of truth-seeking. Since the time of Descartes, the defect in the conception of truth has been less apparent. Still, it will sometimes strike a scientific man that the philosophers have been less intent on finding out what the facts are, than on inquiring what belief is most in harmony with their system. It is hard to convince a follower of the a priori method by adducing facts; but show him that an opinion he is defending is inconsistent with what he has laid down elsewhere, and he will be very apt to retract it. These minds do not seem to believe that disputation is ever to cease; they seem to think that the opinion which is natural for one man is not so for another, and that belief will, consequently, never be settled. In contenting themselves with fixing their own opinions by a method which would lead another man to a different result, they betray their feeble hold of the conception of what truth is. On the other hand, all the followers of science are fully persuaded that the processes of investigation, if only pushed far enough, will give one certain solution to every question to which they can be applied. One man may investigate the velocity of light by studying the transits of Venus and the aberration of the stars; another by the oppositions of Mars and the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites; a third by the method of Fizeau; a fourth by that of Foucault; a fifth by the motions of the curves of Lissajous; a sixth, a seventh, an eighth, and a ninth, may follow the different methods of comparing the measures of statical and dynamical electricity. They may at first obtain different results, but, as each perfects his method and his processes, the results will move steadily together toward a destined centre. So with all scientific research. Different minds may set out with the most antagonistic views, but the progress of investigation carries them by a force outside of themselves to one and the same conclusion.

Different minds may set out with the most antagonistic views, but the progress of investigation carries them by a force outside of themselves to one and the same conclusion. This activity of thought by which we are carried, not where we wish, but to a foreordained goal, is like the operation of destiny. No modification of the point of view taken, no selection of other facts for study, no natural bent of mind even, can enable a man to escape the predestinate opinion. This great law is embodied in the conception of truth and reality. The opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all who investigate, is what we mean by the truth, and the object represented in this opinion is the real. That is the way I would explain reality. But it may be said that this view is directly opposed to the abstract definition which we have given of reality, inasmuch as it makes the characters of the real to depend on what is ultimately thought about them. But the answer to this is that, on the one hand, reality is independent, not necessarily of thought in general, but only of what you or I or any finite number of men may think about it; and that, on the other hand, though the object of the final opinion depends on what that opinion is, yet what that opinion is does not depend on what you or I or any man thinks. Our perversity and that of others may indefinitely postpone the settlement of opinion; it might even conceivably cause an arbitrary proposition to be universally accepted as long as the human race should last. Yet even that would not change the nature of the belief, which alone could be the result of investigation carried sufficiently far; and if, after the extinction of our race, another should arise with faculties and disposition for investigation, that true opinion must be the one which they would ultimately come to. "Truth crushed to earth shall rise again," and the opinion which would finally result from investigation does not depend on how anybody may actually think. But the reality of that which is real does depend on the real fact that investigation is destined to lead, at last, if continued long enough, to a belief in it. But I may be asked what I have to say to all the minute facts of history, forgotten never to be recovered, to the lost books of the ancients, to the buried secrets. Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Do these things not really exist because they are hopelessly beyond the reach of our knowledge? And then, after the universe is dead (according to the prediction of some scientists), and all life has ceased forever, will not the shock of atoms continue though there will be no mind to know it? To this I reply that, though in no possible state of knowledge can any number be great enough to express the relation between the amount of what rests unknown to the amount of the known, yet it is unphilosophical to suppose that, with regard to any given question (which has any clear meaning), investigation would not bring forth a solution of it, if it were carried far enough. Who would have said, a few years ago, that we could ever know of what substances stars are made whose light may have been longer in reaching us than the human race has existed? Who can be sure of what we shall not know in a few hundred years? Who can guess what would be the result of continuing the pursuit of science for ten thousand years, with the activity of the last hundred? And if it were to go on for a million, or a billion, or any number of years you please, how is it possible to say that there is any question which might not ultimately be solved? But it may be objected, "Why make so much of these remote considerations, especially when it is your principle that only practical distinctions have a meaning?" Well, I must confess that it makes very little difference whether we say that a stone on the bottom of the ocean, in complete darkness, is brilliant or not - that is to say, that it probably makes no difference, remembering always that that stone may be fished up tomorrow. But that there are gems at the bottom of the sea, flowers in the untravelled desert, etc., are propositions which, like that about a diamond being hard when it is not pressed, concern much more the arrangement of our language than they do the meaning of our ideas. It seems to me, however, that we have, by the application of our rule, reached so clear an apprehension of what we mean by reality, and of the fact which the idea rests on, that we should not, perhaps, be making a pretension so presumptuous as it would be singular, if we were to offer a metaphysical theory of existence for universal acceptance among those who employ the scientific method of fixing belief. However, as metaphysics is a subject much more curious than useful, the knowledge of which, like that of a sunken reef, serves chiefly to enable us to keep clear of it, I will not trouble the reader with any more Ontology at this moment. I have already been led much further into that path than I should have desired; and I have given the reader such a dose of mathematics, psychology, and all that is most abstruse, that I fear he may already have left me, and that what I am now writing is for the compositor and proofreader exclusively. I trusted to the importance of the subject. There is no royal road to logic, and really valuable ideas can only be had at the price of close attention. But I know that in the matter of ideas the public prefer the cheap and nasty; and in my next paper I am going to return to the easily intelligible, and not wander from it again. The reader who has been at the pains of wading through this month's paper, shall be rewarded in the next one by seeing how beautifully what has been developed in this tedious way can be applied to the ascertainment of the rules of scientific reasoning. We have, hitherto, not crossed the threshold of scientific logic. It is certainly important to know how to make our ideas clear, but they may be ever so clear without being true. How to make them so, we have next to study. How to give birth to those vital and procreative ideas which multiply into a thousand forms and diffuse themselves everywhere, advancing civilisation and making the dignity of man, is an art not yet reduced to rules, but of the secret of which the history of science affords some hints. Further Reading: Biography | Three trichotomies of Signs | What is a Sign? William James | Percy Bridgman | John Dewey | Richard Rorty | Willard Quine | Durkheim on Pragmatism | Mach | Einstein Philosophy Archive @ marxists.org

Abram Leon The Jewish Question SEVEN The decay of capitalism and the tragedy of the Jews in the 20th century The primary merit of the capitalist regime lay in its tremendous expansion of the productive forces, its creation of a world economy, its permitting an unprecedented development of technology and science. As against the stagnation of the feudal world, capitalism presented an unparalleled dynamism. Hundreds of millions of people, immobilized up to then in a routinized, horizonless existence, suddenly found themselves drawn into the current of a feverish and intensive life. The Jews lived within the pores of feudal society. When the feudal structure started to crumble, it began expelling elements which were, at one and the same time, foreign to it and indispensable to it. Even before the peasant had left the village for the industrial center, the Jew had abandoned the small medieval town in order to emigrate to the great cities of the world. The destruction of the secular function of Judaism within feudal society is accompanied by its passive penetration into capitalist society. But if capitalism has given humanity certain tremendous conquests, only its disappearance can allow humanity to enjoy them. Only socialism will be able to lift humanity to the level of the material bases of civilization. But capitalism survives and all the enormous acquisitions turn more and more against the most elementary interests of humanity. The progress of technology and science has become the progress of the science of death and its technology. The development of the means of production is nothing but the growth of the means of destruction. The world, become too small for the productive apparatus built up by capitalism, is constricted even further by the desperate efforts of each imperialism to extend its sphere of influence. While unbridled export constitutes an inseparable phenomenon of the capitalist mode of production, decaying capitalism tries to get along without it, that is to say, it adds to its disorders the disorder of its own suppression. Powerful barriers impede the free circulation of merchandise and men. Insurmountable obstacles arise before the masses deprived of work and bread following the breakdown of the traditional feudal world. The decay of capitalism has not only accelerated the decomposition of feudal society but has multiplied a hundredfold the sufferings which resulted from it. The bearers of civilization, in a blind alley, bar the road to those who wish to become civilized. Unable to attain civilization, the latter are still less able to remain in the stage of barbarism. To the peoples whose traditional bases of existence it has destroyed, capitalism bars the road of the future after having closed the road of the past. It is with these general phenomena that the Jewish tragedy of the twentieth century is tied up. The highly tragic situation of Judaism in our epoch is explained by the extreme precariousness of its social and economic position. The first to be eliminated by decaying feudalism, the Jews were also the first to be rejected by the convulsions of dying capitalism. The Jewish masses find themselves wedged between the anvil of decaying feudalism and the hammer of rotting capitalism. A. The Jews in Eastern Europe The entire situation of Judaism in Eastern Europe is explained by the combination of the decline of the old feudal forms and of the degeneration of capitalism. The social differentiation which took place in the village as a result of capitalist penetration brought about an influx into the cities of enriched as well as proletarianized peasants; the former wanted to invest their capital; the latter to offer their labor. But the openings for the placement of capital were as slight as those for work. Hardly born, the capitalist system already showed all the symptoms of senility. The general decay of capitalism manifested itself in crises and unemployment within the countries of Eastern Europe; by the closing of all the outlets for emigration outside their frontiers. Seven to eight million peasants were landless and almost without work in “independent” Poland. Placed between two fires, the Jews were exposed to the hostility of the petty bourgeoisie and the peasantry; who sought to find a place for themselves at the expense of the Jews. “Jewish positions are particularly threatened by the urban Polish bourgeoisie and by the rich peasants who seek a solution for their difficulties through a fierce economic nationalism, whereas the Polish working class suffering from permanent unemployment, seeks a remedy for its poverty through social liberation and puts its reliance upon economic and political solidarity rather than upon a sterile and murderous competition ....” [1] It is precisely in the regions which capitalism had most developed that a non-Jewish commercial class formed most rapidly. It is there that the anti-Semitic struggle was fiercest. “The decrease in the number of Jewish shops has been greatest in the central provinces, that is to say, in a region where the population is purely Polish, where the peasants have attained a higher standard of living, where industry is more developed, which is very important for the material and intellectual situation of the village.” [2] Whereas in 1914, 72 percent of the stores in the villages were Jewish, this fell to 34 percent in 1935, that is to say, by more than one-half. The situation was better for the Jews in territories less developed economically. “The participation of Jews in commerce is more important in the most backward provinces,” maintains Lipovski. “The eastern sections belonging to White Russians are, in all their relations – economic, intellectual, and political – the most backward part of Poland. In these regions, the absolute majority of Jewish businessmen has increased by a third.” [3] In 1938, 82.6 percent of the shops in the backward regions of Poland were in the hands of Jews. [4] All of these facts are further proof that the destruction of feudalism is at the bottom of the Jewish question in Eastern Europe. The more backward a region is, the more easily are the Jews able to preserve their secular positions. But it is the general decay of capitalism which renders the Jewish question impossible of solution.

But it is the general decay of capitalism which renders the Jewish question impossible of solution. The crisis and chronic unemployment make it impossible for the Jews to go into other professions, producing a frightful crowding in the professions which they follow and unceasingly augmenting anti-Semitic violence. The governments of the provincial nobles and large capitalists naturally endeavored to organize the anti-Jewish current and thereby divert the masses from their real enemy. “Resolve the Jewish question” became for them a synonym for the solution of the social question. In order to make place for the “national forces,” the state organized a systematic struggle for “dejudifying” all the professions. The methods of “Polanizing” business in Poland proceeded from simple boycotting of Jewish stores by means of propaganda, right up to pogroms and incendiarism. Here, by way of example, is a “victory bulletin” published June 14, 1936, in the governmental paper Illustrowany Kurjer codztienny: “One hundred and sixty Polish business positions were conquered during the first months of this year in the Madom district. At Przktyk alone – a notorious pogrom city – 50 business licenses were purchased by Poles. All in all, 2,500 Polish business positions were conquered in the various districts.” [5] Jewish craftsmanship was no more tenderly handled by the Polish governments. Boycott, exorbitant taxes, Polish examinations (thousands of Jewish craftsmen did not know this language), contributed to grinding down the Jewish artisans. Deprived of unemployment relief, the craft proletariat was one of the most disinherited. The wages of Jewish workers were very low and their living conditions frightful (workday up to eighteen hours). The universities constituted the favorite arena for the anti-Semitic struggle. The Polish bourgeoisie exerted all its efforts to prevent Jews from entering the intellectual professions. The Polish universities became places of veritable pogroms, throwing people out of windows, etc. Well before Hitler’s stars of David, the Polish bourgeoisie initiated ghetto benches in the umversities. “Legal” measures, more circumspect but no less effective, rendered entry into the universities almost impossible for the Jewish youth, whose ancestral heritage had strongly developed their intellectual faculties. The percentage of Jewish students in Poland declined from 24.5 percent in 1923–33 to 13.2 percent in 1933–36. [6] The same policy of excluding Jewish students was followed in Lithuania and Hungary. The percentage of Jewish students in Lithuania declined from 15.7 percent in 1920 to 8.5 percent in 1931; in Hungary, from 31.7 percent in 1918 to 10.5 percent in 1931. In general the situation of the Jews in Hungary had for centuries resembled in every way that of Poland. In the country of great feudal magnates, the Jews for a long time played the role of an intermediary class between the lords and the peasants. “One of our correspondents reminds us that at the end of the nineteenth century; a certain Count de Palugyay had great trouble in avoiding expulsion from the National Club of the Hungarian nobility at Budapest, because he wanted to take charge personally of the industrial transformation of his agricultural products, particularly the distillation of alcohol and whiskey from potatoes; he had even gone so far as to take charge of their sale! “The liberal professions were likewise not unaffected by this prejudice, which was as widespread among the high aristocracy as among the petty nobility. Shortly before the fall of the dual monarchy, a Hungarian magnate expressed his disgust of noblemen, who ‘for money, examined the throats of individuals whom they did not know.’ A natural consequence of this attitude was that the Jews formed the intermediary class between the peasantry and the nobility, particularly in the towns ... Trade, and especially petty trade, was a Jewish matter in the eyes of the people. “Even today, in the minds of the masses of the Magyar population, the shop, and in a general way everything connected with the exploitation of the shop, are thought of as Jewish, even if this shop has become an instrument of economic struggle against the Jews. “Here is a story which strikingly illustrates this state of mind: A peasant woman sent her son on some purchasing errands. She wanted them taken care of at the semistateized Hangya cooperative and not at a Jewish shop, so she said to him: ‘Pista, go to the Jew; not to the Jew who is a Jew, but to the new shop.’ ” [7] The process of elimination of the Jews from their economic positions took place in all of Eastern Europe. The situation of the Jewish masses became hopeless. A declassed youth, having no possibility of integrating itself into economic life, lived in black despair. Prior to the second war, 40 percent of the Jewish population of Poland had to resort to philanthropic institutions. Tuberculosis raged. “Let us give the floor to correspondents of the Economic and Statistical Section of the Jewish Scientific Institute residing in regions where despair and the complete absence of a better future were stifling the Jewish youth. Here is what one wrote of Miedzyrzecze, province of Volhynia: ‘The condition of the Jewish youth is very difficult, notably that of the sons and daughters of tradesmen who are without work because their parents do not require assistance. It is impossible to open new businesses. Seventy-five boys and 120 young girls, aged 15 to 28 years, have no hope whatever of integrating themselves into the economic life of the country.’ Of Sulejow (province of Lodz) we are in possession of a more detailed picture, which is characteristic of the small towns of Poland: ‘Almost 50 percent of the children of Jewish businesspeople work with their parents, but solely because they are unable to find another job. Twenty-five percent are learning some sort of trade and 25 percent are completely idle. Seventy percent of the children of artisans remain in the workshops of their parents even though the latter are almost without work and can very well get along without assistants.

Ten percent are learning new trades ... twenty percent have nothing to do. The sons of rabbis and of employees of Jewish communities are trying to attain a livelihood by learning a trade. The entire youth desires to emigrate, 90 percent to Palestine, but because of the limited number of emigration visas, their chances are slim. And yet they are ready to go to the North Pole or the South Pole, just so long as they can tear themselves out of this stagnation. More and more the youth is turning towards the crafts and the number of young people in business is on the decline.’ ” [8] B. The Jews in Western Europe The condition of Judaism, rendered hopeless in Eastern Europe by the combined decay of feudalism and capitalism – which created a stifling atmosphere filled with insane antagonisms – had repercussions of a certain worldwide character. Western and Central Europe became the theater of a frightful rise of anti-Semitism. Whereas the reduction in Jewish emigration, whose average annual rate declined from 155,000 between 1901 and 1914 to 43,657 between 1926 and 1935, greatly aggravated the situation of the Jews in Eastern Europe, the general crisis of capitalism made even this reduced emigration an intolerable burden to the Western countries. [9] The Jewish question reached unprecedented sharpness not only in the countries of emigration but in the countries of immigration as well. Even before the first imperialist war, the mass arrival of Jewish immigrants created a strong anti-Semitic movement among the middle classes of several Central and Western European countries. We need only recall the great successes of the anti-Semitic Social Christian Party at Vienna and of its leader, Lueger; the sweeping rise of anti-Semitism in Germany (Treitschke), and the Dreyfus Affair. Anti-Semitism showed its roots most clearly in Vienna, one of the great centers of Jewish immigration before the first imperialist war. The petty bourgeoisie, ruined by the development of monopoly capitalism and headed for proletarianization, was exasperated by the mass arrival of the Jewish element, traditionally petty-bourgeois and artisan. After the first imperialist war, the countries of Western and Central Europe: Germany, Austria, France, and Belgium, saw tens of thousands of Jewish immigrants, in tatters, lacking all resources, pour in from Eastern Europe. The seeming postwar prosperity permitted these elements to penetrate into all branches of business and artisanry. But even the Jewish immigrants who had penetrated into the plants did not remain there for long. The long commercial past of the Jews weighed heavily on their descendants and the favorable postwar economic conditions brought about a perceptible process of deproletarianization in Western Europe as well as in the United States. The Jewish workers retained their artisan position in the countries of immigration. In Paris in 1936 out of 21,083 Jewish workers belonging to trade unions, 9,253 worked at home. The economic catastrophe of 1929 threw the petty-bourgeois masses into a hopeless situation. The overcrowding in small business, artisanry and the intellectual professions took on unheard of proportions. The petty bourgeois regarded his Jewish competitor with growing hostility; for the latter’s professional cleverness, the result of centuries of practice, often enabled him to survive hard times more easily. Anti-Semitism even gained the ear of wide layers of worker-artisans, who traditionally had been under petty-bourgeois influence. It is consequently incorrect to accuse big business of having brought about anti-Semitism. Big business only proceeded to make use of the elementary anti-Semitism of the petty-bourgeois masses. It fashioned it into a major component of fascist ideology. By the myth of “Jewish capitalism,” big business endeavored to divert and control the anticapitalist hatred of the masses for its own exclusive profit. The real possibility of an agitation against Jewish capitalists lay in the antagonism between monopoly capital and speculative-commercial capital, which Jewish capital was in the main. The relatively greater permeability of speculative capital (stock exchange scandal) allowed monopoly capital to channel the hatred of the petty-bourgeois masses and even of a part of the workers against “Jewish capitalism.” C. Racism “Ideology is a process accomplished by the so-called thinker consciously, indeed, but with a false consciousness. The real motives impelling him remain unknown to him, otherwise it would not be an ideological process at all. Hence he imagines false or apparent motive forces.” [10] Up to now we have tried to understand the real bases of anti-Semitism in our time. But it is sufficient to consider the role played in the development of anti-Semitism by the wretched document fabricated by the Tsarist Okhrana, The Protocols of Zion, to become aware of the importance of the “false or apparent motive forces” of anti-Semitism. In Hitlerite propaganda today, the real motivation of anti-Semitism in Western Europe – the economic competition of the petty bourgeoisie – no longer plays any role. On the contrary; the most fantastic allegations of The Protocols of Zion – the plans of universal domination by international Judaism – reappear in every speech and manifesto of Hitler. We must therefore analyze this mythical ideological element of anti-Semitism. Religion constitutes the most characteristic example of an ideology. Its true motive forces must be sought in the very prosaic domain of the material interests of a class, but it is in the most ethereal spheres that its apparent motive forces are found. Nevertheless, the God who launched the Puritan fanatics of Cromwell against the English aristocracy and Charles I was nothing but the reflection or symbol of the interests of the English peasantry and bourgeoisie. Every religious revolution is in reality a social revolution. It is the unbridled development of the productive forces colliding against the narrow limits of consumption which constitute the true motive force of imperialism, the highest stage of capitalism.

But it is the “race” which seems to be its most characteristic apparent force. Racism is therefore in the first place the ideological disguise of modern imperialism. The “race struggling for its living space” is nothing but the reflection of the permanent necessity for expansion which characterizes finance or monopoly capitalism. While the fundamental contradiction of capitalism, the contradiction between production and consumption, involves for the big bourgeoisie the necessity to struggle for the conquest of foreign markets, it compels the petty bourgeoisie to struggle for the expansion of the domestic market. The lack of foreign markets for the big capitalists proceeds hand in hand with the lack of domestic markets for the small capitalists. Whereas the big bourgeoisie struggles furiously against its competitors on the foreign market, the petty bourgeoisie combats its competitors on the domestic market not a whit less fiercely. “Racism” abroad is consequently accompanied by “racism” at home. The unprecedented aggravation of capitalist contradictions in the twentieth century brings with it a growing exacerbation of “racism” abroad as well as “racism” at home. The primarily commercial and artisan character of Judaism, heritage of a long historical past, makes it Enemy Number One of the petty bourgeoisie on the domestic market. It is therefore the petty-bourgeois character of Judaism which makes it so odious to the petty bourgeoisie. But while the historical past of Judaism exercises a determining influence on its present social composition, it has effects no less important on the representation of the Jews in the consciousness of the popular masses. For the latter, the Jew remains the traditional representative of the “money power.” This fact is of great importance because the petty bourgeoisie is not only a “capitalist” class, that is to say, a repository “in miniature” of all capitalist tendencies; it is also “anticapitalist.” It has a strong, though vague, consciousness of being ruined and despoiled by big business. But its hybrid character, its interclass position, does not permit it to understand the true structure of society nor the real character of big business. It is incapable of understanding the true tendencies of social evolution, for it has a presentiment that this evolution cannot help but be fatal for it. It wants to be anticapitalist without ceasing to be capitalist. It wants to destroy the “bad” character of capitalism, that is to say, the tendencies which are ruining it, while preserving the “good” character of capitalism which permits it to live and get rich. But since there does not exist a capitalism which has the “good” tendencies without also possessing the “bad,” the petty bourgeoisie is forced to dream it up. It is no accident that the petty bourgeoisie has invented “supercapitalism,” the “bad” deviation of capitalism, its evil spirit. It is no accident that its theoreticians have struggled mightily for over a century (Proudhon) against “bad speculative capitalism” and defended “useful productive capitalism.” [11] The attempt of Nazi theoreticians to distinguish between “national productive capital” and “Jewish parasitic capital” is probably the last attempt of this kind. “Jewish capitalism” can best represent the myth of “bad capitalism.” The concept of “Jewish wealth” is in truth solidly entrenched in the consciousness of the popular masses. It is only a question of reawakening and giving “presence,” by means of a well-orchestrated propaganda, to the image of the “usurious” Jew, against whom peasant, petty bourgeois, and lord had struggled over a long period. The petty bourgeoisie and a layer of workers remaining under its sway are easily influenced by such propaganda and fall into this trap of “Jewish capitalism.” Historically, the success of racism means that capitalism has managed to channel the anticapitalist consciousness of the masses into a form that antedates capitalism and which no longer exists except in a vestigial state; this vestige is nevertheless still sufficiently great to give a certain appearance of reality to the myth. We see that racism is made up of rather strange elements. It reflects the expansionist will of big capital. It expresses the hatred of the petty bourgeoisie for “foreign” elements within the domestic market as well as its anticapitalist tendencies. It is in its aspect as a capitalist element that the petty bourgeoisie fights its Jewish competitor, and in its capitalist aspect that it struggles against “Jewish capital.” Racism finally diverts the anticapitalist struggle of the masses into a form that antedates capitalism, persisting only in a vestigial state. But while scientific analysis permits us to reveal its component parts, racist ideology must appear as an absolutely homogeneous “doctrine.” Racism serves precisely to cast all classes into the crucible of a “racial community” opposed to other races. The racist myth strives to appear as a whole, having only vague connections with its origins which are often very different. It endeavors to fuse its different elements together in perfect fashion. Thus, for example, “foreign” racism, the ideological disguise of imperialism, is not compelled, in and of itself, to adopt a strong anti-Semitic coloration. But from the necessity of synchronization, it generally does take on this character. The anticapitalism of the masses, first channeled in the direction of Judaism, is then carried over against the “foreign enemy,” which is identified with Judaism. The “Germanic race” will find itself faced with the duty of fighting the “Jew,” its principal enemy, in all his disguises: that of domestic Bolshevism and liberalism, of Anglo-Saxon plutocracy and of foreign Bolshevism. Hitler states in Mein Kampf that it is indispensable to present the various enemies under a common aspect, otherwise there is a danger that the masses will start thinking too much about the differences which exist among those enemies. That is why racism is a myth and not a doctrine. It demands faith, and fears reason like the plague.

Anti-Semitism contributes most to cementing the different elements of racism. Just as it is necessary to cast the different classes into one single race, so is it also necessary that this “race” have only a single enemy: “the international Jew.” The myth of race is necessarily accompanied by its “negative” – the antirace, the Jew. The racial “community” is built on hatred of the Jews, a hatred of which the most solid “racial” foundation is buried in history in a period when the Jew was in effect a foreign body and hostile to all classes. The irony of history wills that the most radical anti-Semitic ideology in all history should triumph precisely in the period when Judaism is on the road of economic and social assimilation. But like all “ironies of history” this seeming paradox is very understandable. At the time when the Jew was unassimilable, at a time when he really represented “capital,” he was indispensable to society. There could be no question of destroying him. At the present time, capitalist society, on the edge of the abyss, tries to save itself by resurrecting the Jew and the hatred of the Jews. But it is precisely because the Jews do not play the role which is attributed to them that anti-Semitic persecution can take on such an amplitude. Jewish capitalism is a myth; that is why it is so easily vanquished. But in vanquishing its “negative,” racism at the same time destroys the foundations for its own existence. In the measure that the phantom of “Jewish capitalism” disappears, capitalist reality appears in all its ugliness. The social contradictions, banished for a moment by the fumes of “racial” intoxication, reappear in all their sharpness. In the long run, the myth proves powerless against reality. Despite its apparent homogeneity, the very evolution of racism allows to be clearly discerned the economic, social, and political transformations that it strives to conceal. At the beginning, in order to arm itself for the struggle for its “living space,” for imperialist war, big business must beat down its domestic enemy, the proletariat. It is the petty bourgeoisie and declassed proletarian elements that furnish it with its shock troops, capable of smashing the economic and political organizations of the proletariat. Racism, at the beginning, appears therefore as an ideology of the petty bourgeoisie. Its program reflects the interests and illusions of this class. It promises struggle against “supercapitalism,” against the trusts, stock exchange, big department stores, etc. But as soon as big business has succeeded in smashing the proletariat, thanks to the support of the petty bourgeoisie, the latter becomes an unbearable burden to it. The program of preparation for war implies precisely the ruthless elimination of small business, a prodigious development of the trusts, an intensive proletarianization. This same military preparation necessitates the support or at least a kind of neutrality from the proletariat, the most important factor in production. Thus big business does not hesitate for a moment to violate its most solemn promises in the most cynical way and to strangle the petty bourgeoisie in the most brutal fashion. Racism now devotes itself to flattering the proletariat, to appearing as a radically “socialist” movement. It is here that the Judaist-capitalist identification plays its most important role. The radical expropriation of Jewish capitalists has to fulfill the role of “collateral,” of “endorser” of racism’s anticapitalist will to struggle. The anonymous character of the capitalism of the monopolies, in contrast to the generally personal (and often speculative commercial) character of Jewish businesses, facilitates this operation of spiritual swindling. The common man more readily sees the “real” capitalist, the businessman, the manufacturer, the speculator, than the “respectable” director of a corporation who is made to pass as an “indispensable” factor in production. It is in this way that racist ideology reaches the following identifications: Judaism = capitalism; racism = socialism; a regulated war economy = a planned socialist economy. It is undeniable that large layers of workers, deprived of their organizations, blinded by the foreign political successes of Hitler, have allowed themselves to be taken in by racist mythology, just as was the case previously with the petty bourgeoisie. For the time being the bourgeoisie appears to have attained its objective. The furious anti-Jewish persecution extending throughout Europe serves to indicate the “definitive” victory of racism, the final defeat of “international Judaism.” D. The Jewish Race The racial “theory” now dominant is nothing but an attempt to establish racism “on a scientific basis.” It is devoid of any scientific value. It is enough to observe the pitiful acrobatics which the racist theoreticians perform to demonstrate the relationship of the “Germans and the Nipponese” or the irrevocable antagonism between “the heroic German spirit” and the “commercial Anglo-Saxon spirit” in order to be completely convinced of this. The ramblings of a Montadon on “deprostituting” the Jewish “ethnic entity” by ... compelling the Jews to wear stars of David, are certainly not worth much. The real prostitution of certain “scholars” to racism presents an unusual spectacle of the decline of human dignity. But we see there only an end product of the complete decay of bourgeois science which had already, under democracy, lost its objectivity. Racist stupidities must not however deter us from examining the extent to which it is necessary to speak of a Jewish race. The most superficial examination of the question leads us to the conclusion that the Jews constitute in reality a mixture of the most diverse races. It is evidently the Diaspora character of Judaism which is the fundamental cause of this fact. But even in Palestine, the Jews were far from constituting a “pure race.” Leaving aside the fact that, according to the Bible, the Israelites brought a mass of Egyptians with them when they left Egypt and that Strabo considered them as descendants of Egyptians, it is enough to recall the numerous races which had established themselves in Palestine: Hittites, Canaanites, Philistines (“Aryans”), Egyptians, Phoenicians, Greeks, and Arabs.

But even in Palestine, the Jews were far from constituting a “pure race.” Leaving aside the fact that, according to the Bible, the Israelites brought a mass of Egyptians with them when they left Egypt and that Strabo considered them as descendants of Egyptians, it is enough to recall the numerous races which had established themselves in Palestine: Hittites, Canaanites, Philistines (“Aryans”), Egyptians, Phoenicians, Greeks, and Arabs. According to Strabo, Judea was inhabited by Phoenicians, Egyptians, and Arabs. The development of Jewish proselytism during the Greek and Roman era strongly accentuated the mixed character of Judaism. As early as 139 B.C., the Jews were driven out of Rome for having made proselytes there. The community of Antioch was composed in large part of proselytes. Proselytism continued even during subsequent eras. The compulsory conversion of slaves to Judaism, the conversion of the Khazars as well as of other races and tribes in the course of the long Diaspora, have been so many factors which have made a characteristic conglomeration of races out of Judaism. At the present time there is absolutely no racial homogeneity between the Yemenite Jews, for example, and the Jews of Dagestan. The first are Oriental in type while the second belong to the Mongol race. There are black Jews in India, Ethiopian Jews (Falasha), “Troglodyte” Jews in Africa. However, this fundamental difference which exists, for example, between the Jews of Dagestan and the Yemenite Jews, does not exhaust the question. Actually nine-tenths of today’s Jews are inhabitants of Eastern Europe or descendants of Jews from this area. Is there a European-Oriental Jewish race? Here is how the anti-Semitic theoretician, Hans Gunther, answers this question: “Eastern Judaism, which comprised close to nine-tenths of the Jews, consisting today of the Jews of Russia, Poland, Galicia, Hungary Austria, and Germany, as well as the largest part of the Jews in North America and a large part of Western European Jewry constitutes a racial mixture which we may designate as Western Asiatic-Oriental-East Baltic-Eastern-Central Asiatic-Nordic-Hamitic-Negroid.” [12] According to research undertaken in NewYork of 4,235 Jews there were: JEWS (PERCENT) JEWESSES (PERCENT) BRUNET TYPES 52.62 56.94 BLOND TYPES 10.42 10.27 MIXED TYPES 36.96 32.79 14.25 percent of Jews and 12.7 percent of Jewesses had what is called the Jewish nose, which is nothing else but the nose common to the peoples of Asia Minor, especially widespread among the Armenians. This nose is also common among the Mediterranean peoples as well as among the Bavarians (Dinaric race). These few observations permit us to see how stupid the concept of the “Jewish race” is. The Jewish race is a myth. On the other hand, it is correct to say that the Jews constitute a racial mixture that is different from the racial mixtures of most of the European peoples, especially the Slavs and Germans. However, it is not so much the anthropological characteristics of the Jews which distinguish them from other peoples as their physiological, pathological, and, above all, psychological characteristics. It is primarily the economic and social function of Judaism throughout history which explains this phenomenon. For centuries the Jews were the inhabitants of cities, occupied in trade. The Jewish type is far more the result of this secular function than a racial characteristic. The Jews have absorbed a mass of heterogeneous racial elements but all these elements have been subjected to the influence of the special conditions in which the Jews lived, which, in the long run, ended up with the creation of the so-called “Jewish type.” This is the result of a long selection, not racial but economic and social. The physical weakness, the frequency of certain illnesses like diabetes, nervous disorders, a specific body posture, etc., are not racial characteristics but are the result of a specific social position. Nothing is more ridiculous than to explain, for example, the Jews’ penchant for trade or their tendency to abstract thinking on the basis of their race. Wherever the Jews are assimilated economically, wherever they cease to form a class, they rapidly lose all these characteristics. And so it happens that where the racist theoreticians thought they were face to face with a “genuine race,” they were in reality only viewing a human community, whose specific characteristics are above all the result of the social conditions in which it lived for many centuries. A change in these social conditions must naturally bring with it the disappearance of the “racial characteristics” of Judaism. E. Zionism Zionism was born in the light of the incendiary fires of the Russian pogroms of 1882 and in the tumult of the Dreyfus Affair – two events which expressed the sharpness that the Jewish problem began to assume at the end of the nineteenth century. The rapid capitalist development of Russian economy after the reform of 1863 made the situation of the Jewish masses in the small towns untenable. In the West, the middle classes, shattered by capitalist concentration, began to turn against the Jewish element whose competition aggravated their situation. In Russia, the association of the “Lovers of Zion” was founded. Leo Pinsker wrote Auto-emancipation, in which he called for a return to Palestine as the sole possible solution of the Jewish question. In Paris, Baron Rothschild, who like all the Jewish magnates viewed with very little favor the mass arrival of Jewish immigrants in the Western countries, became interested in Jewish colonization in Palestine. To help “their unfortunate brothers” to return to the land of their “ancestors,” that is to say, to go as far away as possible, contained nothing displeasing to the Jewish bourgeoisie of the West, who with reason feared the rise of anti-Semitism.

A short while after the publication of Leo Pinsker’s book, a Jewish journalist of Budapest, Theodor Herzl, saw anti-Semitic demonstrations at Paris provoked by the Dreyfus Affair. Soon he wrote The Jewish State, which to this day remains the bible of the Zionist movement. From its inception, Zionism appeared as a reaction of the Jewish petty bourgeoisie (which still forms the core of Judaism), hard hit by the mounting anti-Semitic wave, kicked from one country to another, and striving to attain the Promised Land where it might find shelter from the tempests sweeping the modern world. Zionism is thus a very young movement; it is the youngest of the European national movements. That does not prevent it from pretending, even more than all other nationalism, that it draws its substance from a far distant past. Whereas Zionism is in fact the product of the last phase of capitalism, of capitalism beginning to decay, it pretends to draw its origin from a past more than two thousand years old. Whereas Zionism is essentially a reaction against the situation created for Judaism by the combination of the destruction of feudalism and the decay of capitalism, it affirms that it constitutes a reaction against the state of things existing since the fall of Jerusalem in the year 70 of the Christian era. Its recent birth is naturally the best reply to these pretensions. As a matter of fact, how can one believe that the remedy for an evil existing for two thousand years was discovered only at the end of the nineteenth century? But like all nationalisms – and even more intensely – Zionism views the historic past in the light of the present. In this way, too, it distorts the present-day picture. Just as France is represented to French children as existing since the Gaul of Vercingetorix, just as the children of Provence are told that the victories that the kings of Ile de France won over their ancestors were their own successes, in the same way Zionism tries to create the myth of an eternal Judaism, eternally the prey of the same persecutions. Zionism sees in the fall of Jerusalem the cause of the dispersion, and consequently, the fountainhead of all Jewish misfortunes of the past, present, and future. “The source of all the misfortunes of the Jewish people is the loss of its historic country and its dispersion in all countries,” declares the Marxist delegation of the Poale-Zion to the Dutch-Scandinavian committee. After the violent dispersion of the Jews by the Romans, their tragic history continues. Driven out of their country, the Jews did not wish (oh beauty of free will!) to assimilate. Imbued with their “national cohesiveness,” “with a superior ethical feeling,” and with “an indestructible belief in a single God” (see the article of Ben-Adir on Anti-Semitism in the General Encyclopedia), they have resisted all attempts at assimilation. Their sole hope during these somber days which lasted two thousand years has been the vision of a return to their ancient country. Zionism has never seriously posed this question: Why, during these two thousand years, have not the Jews really tried to return to this country? Why was it necessary to wait until the end of the nineteenth century for a Herzl to succeed in convincing them of this necessity? Why were all the predecessors of Herzl, like the famous Sabbatai Zebi, treated as false Messiahs? Why were the adherents of Sabbatai Zebi fiercely persecuted by orthodox Judaism? Naturally, in replying to these interesting questions, refuge is sought behind religion. “As long as the masses believed that they had to remain in the Diaspora until the advent of the Messiah, they had to suffer in silence,” states Zitlovski [13], whose Zionism is moreover quite conditional. Nevertheless this explanation tells us nothing. What is required is precisely an answer to the question of why the Jewish masses believed that they had to await the Messiah in order to be able to “return to their country.” Religion being an ideological reflection of social interests, it must perforce correspond to them. Today religion does not at all constitute an obstacle to Zionism. [14] In reality just so long as Judaism was incorporated in the feudal system, the “dream of Zion” was nothing but a dream and did not correspond to any real interest of Judaism. The Jewish tavern owner or “farmer” of sixteenth-century Poland thought as little of “returning” to Palestine as does the Jewish millionaire in America today. Jewish religious Messianism was no whit different from the Messianism belonging to other religions. Jewish pilgrims who went to Palestine met Catholic, Orthodox, and Moslem pilgrims. Besides it was not so much the “return to Palestine” which constituted the foundation of this Messianism as the belief in the rebuilding of the temple of Jerusalem. All of these idealist conceptions of Zionism are naturally inseparable from the dogma of eternal anti-Semitism. “As long as the Jews will live in the Diaspora, they will be hated by the natives.” This essential point of view for Zionism, its spinal column so to speak, is naturally given different nuances by its various currents. Zionism transposes modern anti-Semitism to all of history; it saves itself the trouble of studying the various forms of anti-Semitism and their evolution. However, we have seen that in different historical periods, Judaism made up part of the possessing classes and was treated as such. To sum up [the idealist conception], the sources of Zionism must be sought in the impossibility of assimilation because of “eternal anti-Semitism” and of the will to safeguard the “treasures of Judaism.” [15] In reality, Zionist ideology, like all ideologies, is only the distorted reflection of the interests of a class. It is the ideology of the Jewish petty bourgeoisie, suffocating between feudalism in ruins and capitalism in decay. The refutation of the ideological fantasies of Zionism does not naturally refute the real needs which brought them into being.

It is modern anti-Semitism, and not mythical “eternal” anti-Semitism, which is the best agitator in favor of Zionism. Similarly, the basic question to determine is: To what extent is Zionism capable of resolving not the “eternal” Jewish problem but the Jewish question in the period of capitalist decay? Zionist theoreticians like to compare Zionism with all other national movements. But in reality, the foundations of the national movements and that of Zionism are altogether different. The national movement of the European bourgeoisie is the consequence of capitalist development; it reflects the will of the bourgeoisie to create the national bases for production, to abolish feudal remnants. The national movement of the European bourgeoisie is closely linked with the ascending phase of capitalism. But in the nineteenth century, in the period of the flowering of nationalisms, far from being “Zionist,” the Jewish bourgeoisie was profoundly assimilationist. The economic process from which the modern nations issued laid the foundations for integration of the Jewish bourgeoisie into the bourgeois nation. It is only when the process of the formation of nations approaches its end, when the productive forces have for a long time found themselves constricted within national boundaries, that the process of expulsion of Jews from capitalist society begins to manifest itself, that modern anti-Semitism begins to develop. The elimination of Judaism accompanies the decline of capitalism. Far from being a product of the development of the productive forces, Zionism is precisely the consequence of the complete halt of this development, the result of the petrifaction of capitalism. Whereas the national movement is the product of the ascending period of capitalism, Zionism is the product of the imperialist era. The Jewish tragedy of the twentieth century is a direct consequence of the decline of capitalism. Therein lies the principal obstacle to the realization of Zionism. Capitalist decay – basis for the growth of Zionism – is also the cause of the impossibility of its realization. The Jewish bourgeoisie is compelled to create a national state, to assure itself of the objective framework for the development of its productive forces, precisely in the period when the conditions for such a development have long since disappeared. The conditions of the decline of capitalism which have posed so sharply the Jewish question make its solution equally impossible along the Zionist road. And there is nothing astonishing in that. An evil cannot be suppressed without destroying its causes. But Zionism wishes to resolve the Jewish question without destroying capitalism, which is the principal source of the suffering of the Jews. At the end of the nineteenth century in the period when the Jewish problem was just beginning to be posed in all its sharpness, 150,000 Jews each year left their countries of origin. Between 1881 and 1925, nearly four million Jews emigrated. Despite these enormous figures, the Jewish population of Eastern Europe rose from six to eight million. Thus, even when capitalism was still developing, even when the countries across the ocean were still receiving immigrants, the Jewish question could not even begin to be resolved (in the Zionist sense); far from diminishing, the Jewish population showed a bad penchant of wanting to grow. In order to begin to resolve the Jewish question, that is to say, in order to begin really to transplant the Jewish masses, it would be necessary for the countries of immigration to absorb at least a little more than the natural growth of Jews in the Diaspora, that is at least three hundred thousand Jews per year. And if such a figure could not be reached before the first imperialist war, when all the conditions were still favorable for emigration, when all developed countries such as the United States were permitting the mass entry of immigrants, then how can we think that it is possible in the period of the continuous crisis of capitalism, in the period of almost incessant wars? Naturally there are enough ships in the world to transport hundreds of thousands, even millions of Jews. But if all countries have closed their doors to immigrants, it is because there is an overproduction of labor forces just as there is an overproduction of commodities. Contrary to Malthus, who believed that there would be too many people because there would be too few goods, it is precisely the abundance of goods which is the cause of the “plethora” of human beings. By what miracle, in a period when the world markets are saturated with goods, in a period when unemployment has everywhere become a permanent fixture, by what miracle can a country, however great and rich it may be (we pass over the data relating to poor and small Palestine), develop its productive forces to the point of being able to welcome three hundred thousand immigrants each year? In reality the possibilities for Jewish emigration diminish at the same time that the need for it increases. The causes which promote the need for emigration are the same as those which prevent its realization; they all spring from the decline of capitalism. It is from this fundamental contradiction between the necessity for and the possibility of emigration that the political difficulties of Zionism flow. The period of development of the European nations was also the period of an intensive colonization in the countries across the ocean. It was at the beginning and middle of the nineteenth century in the golden age of European nationalism, that North America was colonized; it was also in this period that South America and Australia began to be developed. Vast areas of the earth were practically without a master and lent themselves marvelously to the establishment of millions of European emigrants. In that period, for reasons that we have studied, the Jews gave almost no thought to emigrating. Today the whole world is colonized, industrialized, and divided among the various imperialisms. Everywhere Jewish emigrants come into collision at one and the same time with the nationalism of the “natives” and with the ruling imperialism. In Palestine, Jewish nationalism collides with an increasingly aggressive Arab nationalism. The development of Palestine by Jewish immigration tends to increase the intensity of this Arab nationalism. The economic development of the country results in the growth of the Arab population, its social differentiation, the growth of a national capitalism.

The economic development of the country results in the growth of the Arab population, its social differentiation, the growth of a national capitalism. To overcome Arab resistance the Jews need English imperialism. But its “support” is as harmful as is Arab resistance. English imperialism views with a favorable eye a weak Jewish immigration to constitute a counterweight to the Arab factor, but it is intensely hostile to the establishment of a big Jewish population in Palestine, to its industrial development, to the growth of its proletariat. It merely uses the Jews as a counterweight to the Arab threat but does everything to raise difficulties for Jewish immigration. Thus, to the increasing difficulties flowing from Arab resistance, there is added the perfidious game of British imperialism. Finally, we must draw still one more conclusion from the fundamental premises which have been established. Because of its necessarily artificial character, because of the slim perspectives for a rapid and normal development of Palestinian economy in our period, the task of Zionist colonization requires considerable capital. Zionism demands incessantly increasing sacrifices from the Jewish communities of the world. But so long as the situation of the Jews is more or less bearable in the Diaspora, no Jewish class feels the necessity of making these sacrifices. To the extent that the Jewish masses feel the necessity of having a “country,” to the extent also that persecutions mount in intensity, so much the less are the Jewish masses able to contribute to Zionist construction. “A strong Jewish people in the Diaspora is necessary for Palestinian reconstruction,” states Ruppin. But so long as the Jewish people is strong in the Diaspora, it feels no need for Palestinian reconstruction. When it strongly feels this necessity, the possibility for realizing it no longer exists. It would be difficult today to ask European Jews, who have a pressing need to emigrate, to give aid for the rebuilding of Palestine. The day when they will be able to do it, it is a safe assumption that their enthusiasm for this task will have considerably cooled. A relative success for Zionism, along the lines of creating a Jewish majority in Palestine and even of the formation of a “Jewish state,” that is to say, a state placed under the complete domination of English or American imperialism, cannot, naturally, be excluded. This would in some ways be a return to the state of things which existed in Palestine before the destruction of Jerusalem and, from this point of view, there will be “reparation of a two-thousand-year-old injustice.” But this tiny “independent” Jewish state in the midst of a worldwide Diaspora will be only an apparent return to the state of things before the year 70. It will not even be the beginning of the solution of the Jewish question. The Jewish Diaspora of the Roman era was in effect based on solid economic ground; the Jews played an important economic role in the world. The existence or absence of a Palestinian mother country had for the Jews of this period only a secondary importance. Today it is not a question of giving the Jews a political or spiritual center (as Achaad Haam would have it). It is a question of saving Judaism from the annihilation which threatens it in the Diaspora. But in what way will the existence of a small Jewish state in Palestine change anything in the situation of the Polish or German Jews? Admitting even that all the Jews in the world were today Palestinian citizens, would the policy of Hitler have been any different? One must be stricken with an incurable juridical cretinism to believe that the creation of a small Jewish state in Palestine can change anything at all in the situation of the Jews throughout the world, especially in the present period. The situation after the eventual creation of a Jewish state in Palestine will resemble the state of things that existed in the Roman era only in the fact that in both cases the existence of a small Jewish state in Palestine could in no way influence the situation of the Jews in the Diaspora. In the Roman era, the economic and social position of Judaism in the Diaspora was very strong, so that the disappearance of this Jewish state did not in any way compromise it. Today the situation of the Jews in the world is very bad; so the reestablishment of a Jewish state in Palestine cannot in any way restore it. In both cases the situation of the Jews does not at all depend on the existence of a state in Palestine but is a function of the general economic, social, and political situation. Even supposing that the Zionist dream is realized and the “secular injustice” is undone – and we are still very far from that – the situation of Judaism throughout the world will in no way be modified by that. The temple will perhaps be rebuilt but the faithful will continue to suffer. The history of Zionism is the best illustration of the insurmountable difficulties that it encounters, difficulties resulting, in the last analysis, from the fundamental contradiction which tears it apart: the contradiction between the growing necessity of resolving the Jewish question and the growing impossibility of resolving it under the conditions of decaying capitalism. Immediately following the first imperialist war, Jewish emigration to Palestine encountered no great obstacles in its path. Despite that, there were relatively few immigrants; the economic conditions of capitalist countries after the war made the need to emigrate less pressing. It was, moreover, because of this light emigration that the British movement did not feel obliged to set up bars to the entry of Jews into Palestine. In the years 1924, 1925, 1926, the Polish bourgeoisie opened an economic offensive against the Jewish masses. These years are also the period of a very important immigration into Palestine. But this massive immigration soon collided with insurmountable economic difficulties. The ebb was almost as great as was the flood tide. Up to 1933, the date of Hitler’s arrival to power, immigration was of little importance. After this date, tens of thousands of Jews began to arrive in Palestine. But this “conjuncture” was soon arrested by a storm of anti-Jewish demonstrations and massacres.

But this “conjuncture” was soon arrested by a storm of anti-Jewish demonstrations and massacres. The Arabs seriously feared becoming a minority in the country. The Arab feudal elements feared being submerged by the capitalist wave. British imperialism profited from this tension by piling up obstacles to the entry of the Jews, by working to deepen the gulf existing between the Jews and the Arabs, by proposing the partition of Palestine. Up to the second imperialist war, Zionism thus found itself in the grip of mounting difficulties. The Palestinian population lived in a state of permanent terror. Precisely when the situation of the Jews became ever more desperate, Zionism showed itself absolutely incapable of providing a remedy. “Illegal” Jewish immigrants were greeted with rifle fire by their British “protectors.” The Zionist illusion began to lose its attractiveness even in the eyes of the most uninformed. In Poland, the last elections revealed that the Jewish masses were turning completely away from Zionism. The Jewish masses began to understand that Zionism not only could not seriously improve their situation, but that it was furnishing weapons to the anti-Semites by its theories of the “objective necessity of Jewish emigration.” The imperialist war and the triumph of Hitlerism in Europe are an unprecedented disaster for Judaism. Judaism is confronted with the threat of total extinction. What can Zionism do to counteract such a disaster? Is it not obvious that the Jewish question is very little dependent upon the future destiny of Tel Aviv but very greatly upon the regime which will be set up tomorrow in Europe and in the world? The Zionists have a great deal of faith in a victory of Anglo-American imperialism. But is there a single reason for believing that the attitude of the Anglo-American imperialists will differ after their eventual victory from their prewar attitude? It is obvious that there is none. Even admitting that Anglo-American imperialism will create some kind of abortive Jewish state, we have seen that the situation of world Judaism will hardly be affected. A great Jewish immigration into Palestine after this war will confront the same difficulties as previously. Under conditions of capitalist decay, it is impossible to transplant millions of Jews. Only a worldwide socialist planned economy would be capable of such a miracle. Naturally this presupposes the proletarian revolution. But Zionism wishes precisely to resolve the Jewish question independently of the world revolution. By misconstruing the real sources of the Jewish question in our period, by lulling itself with puerile dreams and silly hopes, Zionism proves that it is an ideological excrescence and not a scientific doctrine. [16] Notes 1. Congrès Juif Mondial, op. cit., pp. 246–47. 2. Ibid., p. 249. 3. Ibid., p. 249. 4. Yiddishe Economic (September–October 1938), p. 437. 5. At Warsaw in 1882, 79.3 percent of businessmen were Jews; in 1931, 51.4 percent of the businessmen were Jews. Jacob Lestschinsky, Der Wirtschaftliche Zusammenbruch der Juden in Deutschland u. Polen (Paris 1938), p. 48. 6. In the period when Jewish and non-Jewish petty-bourgeois intellectuals represent Hitler as the sole responsible party for anti-Semitism in our time, in the period when the United Nations, among them Poland, lay claim to being defenders of the “rights of man” – recalling this fact will most certainly not be devoid of usefulness. Of course Hitler organized, in a premeditated way, the destruction of European Judaism, and personified capitalist barbarism in this sphere as in others. But the various more or less “democratic” governments which followed each other in Poland could not have learned very much from him.

But the various more or less “democratic” governments which followed each other in Poland could not have learned very much from him. The disappearance of Hitler can change nothing fundamental in the situation of the Jews. A transitory improvement of their condition will in no wise alter the profound roots of twentieth-century anti-Semitism. 7. Congrès Juif Mondial, op. cit., pp. 120–121. 8. Ibid., p. 254. 9. Yiddishe Economic (July–August 1938), p. 353. 10. Engels to Mehring, Selected Correspondence of Marx and Engels (New York 1942), p. 511. 11. See the Proudhon Utopia of free credit. 12. Hans Günther, Rassenkunde des Jüdischen Volkes (Munich 1930), p. 191. 13. Materialism and the National Question. 14. There is a religious Zionist bourgeois party, Misrakhi, and a religious Zionist workers party, Poale-Misrakhi. 15. Adolf Böhm, Die Zionistische Bewegung (Berlin 1935), vol. 1, chapter 3. 16. In this chapter, Zionism has been treated only insofar as it is linked with the Jewish question. The role of Zionism in Palestine naturally constitutes another problem. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 19 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question EIGHT Toward a solution of the Jewish question It is incorrect to state that a solution for the Jewish problem has been needed for two thousand years. The very fact that in the course of this long period such a solution was not found best demonstrates that it was not necessary. Judaism was an indispensable factor in precapitalist society. It was a fundamental organism within it. That is what explains the two thousand year existence of Judaism in the Diaspora. The Jew was as characteristic a personage in feudal society as the lord and the serf. It was no accident that a foreign element played the role of “capital” in feudal society. Feudal society as such could not create a capitalist element; as soon as it was able to do so, precisely then it ceased being feudal. Nor was it accidental that the Jew remained a foreigner in the midst of feudal society. The “capital” of precapitalist society existed outside of its economic system. From the moment that capital begins to emerge from the womb of this social system and takes the place of the borrowed organ, the Jew is eliminated and feudal society ceases to be feudal. It is modern capitalism that has posed the Jewish problem. Not because the Jews today number close to twenty million people (the proportion of Jews to non-Jews has declined greatly since the Roman era) but because capitalism destroyed the secular basis for the existence of Judaism. Capitalism destroyed feudal society; and with it the function of the Jewish people-class. History doomed this people-class to disappearance; and thus the Jewish problem arose. The Jewish problem is the problem of adapting Judaism to modern society, of liquidating the heritage bequeathed to humanity by feudalism. For centuries Judaism was a social organism within which social and national elements were closely intermingled. The Jews are far from constituting a race; on the contrary, they are probably one of the most typical and conspicuous examples of racial mixture. This does not mean, however, that the Asiatic element is not very noticeable in the mixture – sufficiently outstanding, in any case, to set the Jew apart in the Western nations, where he is chiefly to be found. This real national “base” is supplemented by an imaginary, poetic base, formed out of the secular tradition which attaches the present Jew to his distant “ancestors” of biblical times. On this national base, the class foundation and the mercantile psychology were subsequently grafted. The national and social elements became mixed to the point of complete intermingling. It would be difficult to distinguish in a Polish Jew the part that his “type” has inherited from his ancestors and the part acquired from the social function that he fulfilled in that country for centuries. It must be agreed that the social base long ago acquired greater importance than the national base. At any rate, if the social element came to be added to the national element, the latter could persist only thanks to the former. It is thanks to his social and economic situation that the Jew was able to “preserve” himself. Capitalism has posed the Jewish problem, that is to say, it has destroyed the social bases upon which Judaism maintained itself for centuries. But capitalism has not resolved the Jewish problem, for it has been unable to absorb the Jew liberated from his social shell. The decline of capitalism has suspended the Jews between heaven and earth. The Jewish “precapitalist” merchant has largely disappeared, but his son has found no place in modern production. The social basis of Judaism has crumbled; Judaism has become largely a declassed element. Capitalism has not only doomed the social function of the Jews; it has also doomed the Jews themselves. Petty-bourgeois ideologists are always inclined to raise a historical phenomenon into an eternal category. For them the Jewish question is a function of the Diaspora; only the concentration of the Jews in Palestine can resolve it. But it is pure childishness to reduce the Jewish question to a question of territory. The territorial solution has meaning only if it signifies the disappearance of traditional Judaism, the penetration of Jews into modern economy, the “productivization” of the Jews. By a detour, Zionism thus returns to the solution proposed by its worst enemies, the consistent “assimilationists.” For the Zionists as well as for the assimilationists it is a question of doing away with the “cursed” heritage of the past, of making workers, agriculturists, productive intellectuals, of the Jews. The illusion of Zionism does not consist in its desire to attain this result; that is a historical necessity which will cut its own path sooner or later. Its illusion consists in believing that the insurmountable difficulties which decaying capitalism puts in the way of these tasks will disappear as if by magic in Palestine. But if the Jews were unable to find a place in economic life in the Diaspora, the same causes will prevent them from doing so in Palestine. The world today is so much a unit that it is sheer folly to try to build within it a haven sheltered from its storms. That is why the failure of “assimilation” must of necessity be followed by the failure of Zionism. In this period when the Jewish problem takes on the aspect of a terrible tragedy, Palestine can be no more than a feeble palliative. Ten million Jews find themselves in a huge concentration camp. What remedy can the creation of a few Zionist colonies bring to this problem? Well then – neither assimilation nor Zionism? No solution at all? No, there is no solution to the Jewish question under capitalism, just as there is no solution to the other problems posed before humanity – without profound social upheavals.

No, there is no solution to the Jewish question under capitalism, just as there is no solution to the other problems posed before humanity – without profound social upheavals. The same causes which make the emancipation of the Jews an illusion also make the realization of Zionism impossible. Unless the profound causes for the Jewish question are eliminated, the effects cannot be eliminated. The ghetto and the wheel [the badge that Jews sewed on their clothes in the Middle Ages] have reappeared – symbols, moreover, of the tragic destiny toward which humanity is being driven. But the very exacerbation of anti-Semitism prepares the road for its disappearance. The driving out of the Jews provides momentarily a kind of living space for the petty bourgeoisie. “Aryanization” creates jobs for some tens of thousands of unemployed intellectuals and petty bourgeois. But in attacking the apparent causes of their misfortunes, the petty bourgeoisie has merely strengthened the operation of the real causes. Fascism will accelerate the process of proletarianization of the middle classes. After the Jewish petty bourgeoisie, hundreds of thousands of shopkeepers and artisans were expropriated and proletarianized. Capitalist concentration made gigantic progress. “Improvement in the economic situation” took place only at the price of preparation for the second imperialist war, the cause of enormous destruction and slaughter. Thus the tragic fate of Judaism mirrors with singular sharpness the situation of all humanity. The decline of capitalism means for the Jews the return to the ghetto – although the basis for the ghetto disappeared long ago, along with the foundations of feudal society. Similarly, for all humanity capitalism bars the road of the past as well as the highway to the future. Only the destruction of capitalism will make it possible for humanity to benefit from the immense achievements of the industrial era. Is it astonishing that the Jewish masses, who are the first to feel – and with special sharpness – the effects of the contradictions of capitalism, should have furnished rich forces for the socialist and revolutionary struggle? “On various occasions Lenin emphasized the importance of the Jews for the revolution, not only in Russia but in other countries as well .... Lenin also expressed the thought that the flight of a part of the Jewish population ... into the interior of Russia, as a result of the occupation of the industrial regions of the West, had been a very useful thing for the revolution – just as the appearance of a large number of Jewish intellectuals in the Russian cities during the war had also been useful. They helped to smash the widespread and extremely dangerous sabotage which confronted the Bolsheviks everywhere immediately following the revolution. Thus they helped the revolution to survive a very critical stage.” [1] The high percentage of Jews in the proletarian movement is only a reflection of the tragic situation of Judaism in our time. The intellectual faculties of the Jews, fruit of the historic past of Judaism, are thus an important support for the proletarian movement. In this latter fact lies a final – and not the least important – reason for modern anti-Semitism. The ruling classes persecute with special sadism the Jewish intellectuals and workers, who have supplied a host of fighters to the revolutionary movement. To isolate the Jews completely from the sources of culture and science has become a vital necessity for the decaying system which persecutes them. The ridiculous legend of “Jewish-Marxism” is nothing but a caricature of the bonds that actually exist between socialism and the Jewish masses. Never has the situation of the Jews been so tragic. In the worst periods of the Middle Ages entire countries opened their doors to receive them. Today capitalism, which rules the whole world, makes the earth uninhabitable for them. Never has the mirage of a Promised Land so haunted the Jewish masses. But never was a Promised Land less capable of resolving the Jewish question than in our time. The very paroxysm, however, that the Jewish problem has reached today, also provides the key to its solution. The plight of the Jews has never been so tragic; but never has it been so close to ceasing to be that. In past centuries, hatred of the Jews had a real basis in the social antagonism which set them against other classes of the population. Today, the interest of the Jewish classes are closely bound up with the interests of the popular masses of the entire world. By persecuting the Jews as “capitalist,” capitalism makes them complete pariahs. The ferocious persecutions against Judaism render stark naked the stupid bestiality of anti-Semitism and destroy the remnants of prejudices that the working classes nurse against the Jews. The ghettos and the yellow badges do not prevent the workers from feeling a growing solidarity with those who suffer most from the afflictions all humanity is suffering. And the greatest social explosion the world has ever seen is finally preparing the liberation of the most persecuted pariahs of our planet. When the people of the factories and the fields have finally thrown off the yoke of the capitalists, when a future of unlimited development opens up before liberated humanity, the Jewish masses will be able to make a far from unimportant contribution towards the building of a new world. This does not mean that socialism, brought to maturity by a wave of a magic wand, will remove all the difficulties that stand as obstacles to the solution of the Jewish question. The example of the USSR shows that even after the proletarian revolution, the special structure of Judaism – a heritage of history – will give rise to a number of difficulties, particularly during the transition periods. During the time of the NEP, for instance, the Jews of Russia, utilizing their traditional business experience, furnished numerous cadres for the new bourgeois class. Moreover, the great mass of Jewish small tradesmen and petty artisans suffered greatly at the beginning of the proletarian dictatorship. It was only later, with the success of the Five Year Plan, that the Jews penetrated en masse into Soviet economic life. Despite certain difficulties, the experiment was decisive: hundreds of thousands of Jews became workers and peasants. The fact that white-collar workers and functionaries constitute a considerable percentage of wage-earning Jews must not be considered a matter for concern.

Socialism is not at all interested that all Jews should take up manual occupations. On the contrary, the intellectual faculties of the Jews should be put to widest use. It is thus clear that, even under the relatively difficult conditions of a backward country the proletariat can solve the Jewish problem. The Jews have penetrated en masse into Russian economy. The “productivization” of the Jews has been accompanied by two parallel processes: assimilation and territorial concentration. Wherever the Jews penetrate into industry, they are rapidly assimilated. As early as 1926 there were hardly 40 percent of the Jewish miners in the Donets Basin who spoke Yiddish. Nevertheless the Jews live under a regime of national autonomy; they have special schools, a Yiddish press, autonomous courts. But the Jewish nationalists are continually deploring the abandonment of these schools and this press. Only in those places where fairly dense masses of Jews have been colonized, especially in Birobidjan, do we witness a kind of “national renaissance.” [2] Thus life itself demonstrates that the problem which so bitterly divides Judaism – assimilation or territorial concentration – is a fundamental problem only to petty-bourgeois dreamers. The Jewish masses want simply an end to their martyrdom. That, socialism alone can give them. But socialism must give the Jews, as it will to all peoples, the possibility of assimilation as well as the possibility of having a special national life. The end of Judaism? Certainly. Despite their apparently irreconcilable opposition, assimilationists and nationalists are agreed in combating Judaism as history has known it – the mercantile Judaism of the Diaspora, the people-class. The Zionists never stop repeating that it is a matter of creating a new type of Jew in Palestine, altogether different from the Jew of the Diaspora. They even reject with horror the language and culture of the Judaism of the Diaspora. In Birobidjan, in the Ukraine and the Donets Basin, even the old man discards his secular dress. The people-class, historical Judaism, has been definitively doomed by history. Despite all its traditional pretensions, Zionism will not culminate in a “national renaissance” but, at the most, in a “national birth.” The “new Jew” resembles neither his brother of the Diaspora nor his ancestor of the era of the fall of Jerusalem. The young Palestinian, proud of speaking the language of Bar Kochba, would probably not be understood by his ancestor; in reality, the Jews in the Roman era spoke Aramaic and Greek fluently but had only a vague knowledge of Hebrew. Moreover, neo-Hebrew, in the nature of things, is going further and further away from the language of the Bible. Everything will add up to estrange the Palestinian Jew from the Judaism of the Diaspora. And tomorrow, when national barriers and prejudices begin to disappear in Palestine, who can doubt that a fruitful reconciliation will take place between the Arab and the Jewish workers, the result of which will be their partial or total fusion? “Eternal” Judaism, which, moreover, has never been anything but a myth, will disappear. It is puerile to pose assimilation and the “national solution” as opposites. Even in those countries where Jewish national communities will eventually be created, we will be witnessing either the creation of a new Jewish nationality, completely different from the old, or the formation of new nations. Moreover, even in the first case, unless the people already established in the country are driven out or the rigorous prescriptions of Ezra and Nehemiah are revived, this new nationality cannot fail to come under the influence of the longtime inhabitants of the country. In the sphere of nationality, only socialism can bring the widest democracy. It must provide the Jews with the opportunity of living a national existence in every country they inhabit; it must also give them the opportunity of concentrating in one or more territories, naturally without injuring the interests of the native inhabitants. Only the widest proletarian democracy will make possible the resolution of the Jewish problem with a minimum of suffering. Clearly, the tempo of the solution of the Jewish problem depends upon the general tempo of socialist construction. The opposition between assimilation and the national solution is an entirely relative one, the latter often being nothing but the prelude to the former. Historically, all existing nations are the products of various fusions of races and peoples. It is not excluded that new nations, fanned by the fusion or even the dispersion of nations now existing, will be created. However it may be, socialism must limit itself in this sphere to “letting nature take its course.” Thus in a certain sense socialism will return to the practice of precapitalist society. It was capitalism by virtue of the fact that it provided an economic basis for the national problem, which also created insoluble national contradictions. Before the capitalist era, Slovaks, Czechs, Germans, French, lived in perfect understanding. Wars did not have a national character; they had interest only for the possessing classes. The policy of compulsory assimilation, of national persecution, was unknown to the Romans. Submission of barbarian peoples to Romanization or Hellenization was a peaceful process. Today, national-cultural and linguistic antagonisms are only manifestations of the economic antagonism created by capitalism. With the disappearance of capitalism, the national problem will lose all its acuteness. If it is premature to speak of a worldwide assimilation of peoples, it is nonetheless clear that a planned economy on a global scale will bring all the peoples of the world much closer to each other. But the hastening of this assimilation by artificial means would hardly seem to be indicated; nothing could do more harm. We still cannot foresee exactly what the “offspring” of present Judaism will be; socialism will take care that the “birth” will take place under the best possible conditions. Notes 1. S. Dimanstein, Lenin on the Jewish Question in Russia (Russian) (Moscow 1924).

Dimanstein, Lenin on the Jewish Question in Russia (Russian) (Moscow 1924). Quoted by Otto Heller, Der Untergang des Judentums (Vienna [1931]), p. 230. 2. We touch here on the Jewish problem in Russia only in passing. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 27 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question ONE The premises for a scientific study of Jewish history The scientific study of Jewish history is yet to transcend the stage of idealist improvisation. Serious historians have boldly attacked the field of history as a whole in the spirit of Marx, and have in large measure conquered it for the materialist outlook. Jewish history, however, still remains the chosen land of the “god-seekers” of every variety. It is one of the few fields of history where idealist prejudices have succeeded in entrenching and maintaining themselves to so great an extent. How many oceans of ink have been spilled to celebrate the famous “miracle of the Jew!” “What a strange spectacle are these men who have, in order to preserve the sacred trust of their faith, braved persecutions and martyrdom,” exclaims Bédarride. [1] The preservation of the Jews is explained by all historians as the product of their devotion through the centuries to their religion or their nationality. Differences among these historians begin to appear only when it comes to defining the “goal” for which the Jews preserved themselves, the reason for their resistance to assimilation. Some, taking the religious point of view, speak of the “sacred trust of their faith”; others, like Dubnow, defend the theory of “attachment to the national idea.” “We must seek the causes for the historical phenomenon of the preservation of the Jewish people in their national spiritual strength, in their ethical basis, and in the monotheistic principle,” says the General Encyclopedia which contrives in this way to reconcile the various viewpoints among the idealist historians. [2] But while it is possible to reconcile these idealist theories with one another, it is hopeless to try to find some ground for reconciling these same theories with the elementary rules of historical science. The latter must categorically reject the fundamental error of all idealist schools, which consists of putting under the hallmark of free will the cardinal question of Jewish history, namely: the preservation of Judaism. Only a study of the economic role played by the Jews can contribute to elucidating the causes for the “miracle of the Jew.” To study the evolution of this question is not exclusively of academic interest. Without a thorough study of Jewish history, it is difficult to understand the Jewish question in modern times. The plight of the Jews in the twentieth century is intimately bound up with their historical past. Every social formation represents a stage in the social process. Being is only a moment in the process of becoming. In order to undertake an analysis of the Jewish question in its present phase of development, it is indispensable to know its historical roots. In the sphere of Jewish history, as in the sphere of universal history, Karl Marx’s brilliant thought points the road to follow “We will not look for the secret of the Jew in his religion, but we will look for the secret of the religion in the real Jew.” [3] Marx thus puts the Jewish question back on its feet. We must not start with religion in order to explain Jewish history; on the contrary; the preservation of the Jewish religion or nationality can be explained only by the “real Jew,” that is to say, by the Jew in his economic and social role. The preservation of the Jews contains nothing of the miraculous. “Judaism has survived not in spite of history, but by virtue of history.” [4] It is precisely by studying the historical function of Judaism that one is able to discover the “secret of its survival in history. The struggles between Judaism and Christian society, under their respective religious guises, were in reality social struggles. “We transmute the contradictions of the state with a specific religion, like Judaism, into the the contradiction of the state with specific secular elements.” [5] The general pattern of Jewish history is presented (with various slight nuances) somewhat as follows according to the reigning idealist school: Up to the destruction of Jerusalem, as late as the rebellion of Bar Kochba, the Jewish nation was in no wise different from other normally constituted nations, such as the Roman or the Greek. The wars between the Romans and the Jews resulted in dispersing the Jewish nation to the four corners of the world. In the dispersion, the Jews fiercely resisted national and religious assimilation. Christianity found no more rabid adversaries in its path and despite all its efforts did not succeed in converting them. The fall of the Roman empire increased the isolation of Judaism which constituted the sole heterodox element after the complete triumph of Christianity in the West. The Jews of the Diaspora, in the epoch of the barbarian invasions, did not at all constitute a homogeneous social group. On the contrary agriculture, industry, commerce were widely prevalent among them. It was the continuous religious persecutions which forced them to entrench themselves increasingly in commerce and usury. The Crusades, by reason of the religious fanaticism they engendered, violently accelerated this evolution which transformed the Jews into usurers and ended in their confinement in ghettos. Of course, the hatred against the Jews was also fanned by the latter’s economic role. But the historians attribute only a secondary importance to this factor. This condition of Judaism continued up to the French Revolution, which destroyed the barriers that religious oppression had raised against the Jews. Several important facts challenge the truth of this pattern: 1. The dispersal of the Jews does not at all date from the fall of Jerusalem. Several centuries before this event, the great majority of Jews were already spread over the four corners of the world. It is certain that well before the fall of Jerusalem, more than three-fourths of the Jews no longer lived in Palestine. [6] For the great masses of Jews dispersed in the Greek empire, and later in the Roman empire, the Jewish kingdom of Palestine was of completely secondary importance. The tie with the “mother country” was manifested solely in religious pilgrimages to Jerusalem, which played a role similar to that of Mecca for the Moslems. Shortly before the fall of Jerusalem, King Agrippa said to the Jews: “There is no people upon the habitable earth which have not some portion of you among them.” [7] The Diaspora was consequently not at all an accidental thing, a product of acts of violence. [8] The fundamental reason for Jewish emigration must be sought in the geographic conditions of Palestine. “The Jews in Palestine were the possessors of a mountainous country which at a certain time no longer sufficed for assuring its inhabitants as tolerable an existence as that among their neighbors.

Such a people is driven to choose between brigandage and emigration. The Scots, for example, alternately engaged in each of these pursuits. The Jews, after numerous struggles with their neighbors, also took the second road ... Peoples living under such conditions do not go to foreign countries as agriculturists. They go there rather in the role of mercenaries, like the Arcadians of antiquity, the Swiss in the Middle Ages, the Albanians in our day; or in the role of merchants, like the Jews, the Scots, and the Armenians. We see here that a similar environment tends to produce similar characteristics among peoples of different races.” [9] 2. The overwhelming majority of Jews of the Diaspora unquestionably engaged in trade. Palestine itself since very remote times constituted a passageway for merchandise, a bridge between the valleys of the Euphrates and the Nile. “Syria was the inevitable highway of the conquerors ... Trade and ideas followed the same route. It is easy to see that from a very early date these regions were thickly populated, and possessed great cities whose very situation lent itself to commerce.” [10] The geographic conditions of Palestine therefore explain both the Jewish emigration and its commercial character. On the other hand, among all nations, at the beginning of their development, the traders are foreigners. “The characteristic of a natural economy is that each sphere produces everything consumed by it and consumes everything it produces. There is consequently no pressure to buy goods or services from others ... Because what is produced is consumed in this economy, we find among all these peoples that the first traders are foreigners.” [11] Philo enumerates many cities where the Jews were established as traders. He states that they “inhabited countless cities in Europe, in Asia, in Libya, on the mainland and in the islands, along the coasts and in the interior.” The Jews who inhabited the Hellenic islands, as well as the mainland and further to the west, had installed themselves there with commercial objectives. [12] “As well as the Syrians, the Jews were to be found in all the cities, living in small communities; they were sailors, brokers, bankers, whose influence was as essential in the economic life of the time as was the Oriental influence which made itself felt at the same time in the art and the religious thought of the period.” [13] It is to their social position that the Jews are beholden for the wide autonomy granted them by the Roman emperors. The Jews, “and they only were allowed to form, so to speak, a community within the community and – while the other nonburgesses were ruled by the authorities of the burgess body – [they were permitted] up to a certain degree to govern themselves.” [14] Caesar advanced the interests of the Jews in Alexandria and in Rome by special favors and privileges, and protected in particular their peculiar worship against the Roman as well as against the Greek local priests. [15] 3. Hatred for the Jews does not date solely from the birth of Christianity. Seneca treated the Jews as a criminal race. Juvenal believed that the Jews existed only to cause evil for other peoples. Quintilian said that the Jews were a curse for other people. The cause of ancient anti-Semitism is the same as for medieval anti-Semitism: the antagonism toward the merchant in every society based principally on the production of use values. “Medieval hostility toward merchants is not solely of Christian or pseudo-Christian inspiration. It also has a ‘real’ pagan source. The latter was strongly rooted in a class ideology; in the disdain which the leading classes of Roman society – the senatorial gentes as well as the provincial curia – felt, out of a deep peasant tradition, toward all forms of economic activity other than those deriving from agriculture.” [16] However, while anti-Semitism was already strongly developed in Roman society the condition of the Jews, as we have seen, was quite enviable there. The hostility of classes that live from the land toward trade does not eliminate their dependence upon the latter. The landowner hates and despises the merchant but he cannot get along without him. [17] The triumph of Christianity did not bring any notable changes in this regard. Christianity, at first the religion of the slaves and the downtrodden, was rapidly transformed into an ideology of the ruling class of landed proprietors. It was Constantine the Great who laid the foundation for medieval serfdom. The triumphal march of Christianity across Europe was accompanied by an extension of feudal economy. The religious orders played an extremely important role in the progress of civilization, which consisted in that epoch of developing agriculture on the basis of serfdom. There is little astonishing in the fact that “born in Judaism, formed at first exclusively of Jews, Christianity nevertheless nowhere during the first four centuries found more difficulty than among them in acquiring partisans for its doctrine.” [18] As a matter of fact, Christian mentality during the first ten centuries of our era viewed everything connected with economic life from the basic standpoint “that a merchant can with difficulty do work pleasing to God” and that “all trade implies a greater or lesser amount of cheating.” [19] The life of the Jews appeared completely incomprehensible to St. Ambrose who lived in the fourth century. He despised the wealth of the Jews profoundly, and firmly believed that they would be punished for it by eternal damnation. The fierce hostility of the Jews toward Catholicism and their determination to preserve a religion which admirably expressed their social interests are therefore quite natural. It is not the loyalty of the Jews to their faith which explains their preservation as a distinct social group; on the contrary it is their preservation as a distinct social group which explains their attachment to their faith. Nevertheless, like the hostility in antiquity toward the Jews, Christian anti-Semitism in the first ten centuries of the Christian era never went to the extreme of demanding the annihilation of Judaism. Whereas official Christianity mercilessly persecuted paganism and heresies, it tolerated the Jewish religion. The condition of the Jews continued to improve during the decline of the Roman empire, after the complete triumph of Christianity and up to the twelfth century.

The more economic decay deepened, all the more did the commercial role of the Jews grow in importance. In the tenth century, they constituted the sole economic link between Europe and Asia. 4. It is only from the twelfth century on, parallel with the economic development of Western Europe, with the growth of cities and the formation of a native commercial and industrial class, that the condition of the Jews begins to worsen seriously, leading to their almost complete elimination from most of the Western countries. Persecutions of the Jews take on increasingly violent forms. As against this, in the backward countries of Eastern Europe, their condition continued to flourish up to a fairly recent period. From these few preliminary considerations, we can see how false is the general conception prevailing in the sphere of Jewish history. Above all the Jews constitute historically a social group with a specific economic function. They are a class, or more precisely, a people-class. [20] The concept of class does not at all contradict the concept of people. It is because the Jews have preserved themselves as a social class that they have likewise retained certain of their religious, ethnic, and linguistic traits. [21] This identification of a class with a people (or race) is far from being exceptional in precapitalist societies. Social classes were then frequently distinguished by a more or less national or racial character. “The higher and lower classes ... are in many countries the lineal representatives of the peoples conquering and the peoples conquered of an anterior epoch .... The race of the invaders ... formed a military nobility ... the invaded race ... not living by the sword but by the compulsory labor of their hands ....” [22] Kautsky speaks in the same vein: “Different classes may assume the character of different races. On the other hand, the meeting of many races, each developing an occupation of its own, may lead to their taking up various callings or social positions within the same community: race becomes class.” [23] [24] There is evidently a continuous interdependence between racial or national and class characteristics. The social position of the Jews has had a profound, determining influence on their national character. There is no contradiction in this idea of a people-class; and it is even easier to show the correspondence between class and religion. Whenever a class attains a certain degree of maturity and consciousness, its opposition to the ruling class takes on religious forms. The heresies of the Albigenses, the Lollards, the Manichaeans, the Cathari, and other innumerable sects that swarmed in medieval cities, were the initial religious manifestations of the growing opposition to the feudal order by the bourgeoisie and the people as a whole. These heresies nowhere reached the level of a dominant religion because of the relative weakness of the medieval bourgeoisie. They were savagely drowned in blood. It was only in the seventeenth century that the bourgeoisie, increasing in power, was able to bring about the triumph of Lutheranism and above all of Calvinism and its English equivalents. [25] Whereas Catholicism expresses the interests of the landed nobility and of the feudal order, while Calvinism (or Puritanism) represents those of the bourgeoisie or capitalism, Judaism mirrors the interests of a precapitalist mercantile class. [26] [27] What primarily distinguishes Jewish “capitalism” from genuine capitalism is that, by contrast with the latter, it is not the bearer of a new mode of production. “The merchant’s capital is pure, separated from the extremes, the spheres of production, between which it intervenes.” “The trading nations of the ancients existed like the gods of Epicurus in the intermediate worlds of the universe or rather like the Jews in the pores of Polish society.” “Both usury and commerce exploit the various modes of production. They do not create it, but attack it from the outside.” [28] The accumulation of money in the hands of the Jews did not arise from a special mode of production, from capitalist production. Surplus value (or surplus product) came from feudal exploitation and the lords were obliged to yield part of this surplus value to the Jews. Hence the antagonism between the Jews and feudalism, but hence likewise came the indestructible bond between them. As for the lord, so too for the Jew, feudalism was mother earth. If the lord needed the Jew, the Jew also had need of the lord. It is by reason of this social position that the Jews were nowhere able to rise to the role of a ruling class. In feudal economy, the role of a merchant class could only be a clearly subordinate one. Judaism could only remain a more or less tolerated cult. [29] We have already seen that the Jews in antiquity had jurisdiction over their own community. The same was true in the Middle Ages. “In the plastic society of the Middle Ages, each class of men lived according to its own customs, and under its special jurisdiction. Outside the judicial organization of the state, the church had its ecclesiastical courts, the nobility its feudal courts, and the peasants their manorial courts. The burghers in their turn, obtained their échevins’ courts.” [30] The specific organization of the Jews was the Kehillah. Each cluster of Jews was organized into a community (Kehillah) which lived its own social life and had its own juridical organization. It was in Poland that this organization attained its highest degree of perfection. According to an ordinance issued by King Sigismund II in 1551, the Jews had the right to choose judges and rabbis whose duty it was to administer all their affairs. Only in actions between Jews and non-Jews did the Voyevoda courts intervene. Each Jewish community was free to choose a community council. The activities of this council, called Kahal, were very extensive. It collected taxes for the state, apportioned the general and special taxes, directed the elementary schools and high schools (Yeshibot). It had jurisdiction over all questions concerning trade, artisanry, charity. It took care of settling conflicts between members of the community. The power of each Kahal extended to the Jewish inhabitants of surrounding villages.

With time the various councils of Jewish communities made a practice of assembling regionally at regular intervals to discuss administrative, juridical, and religious questions. These assemblies thus assumed the aspect of miniature parliaments. On the occasion of the great fair of Lublin, a sort of general parliament assembled in which the representatives of Great Poland, Little Poland, Podolia, and Volhynia participated. This parliament was called Vaad Arba Aratzoth, or the “Council of the Four Lands.” Traditional Jewish historians have not failed to discern a form of national autonomy in this organization. “In old Poland,” says Dubnow, “the Jews constituted a nation having autonomy, with its own internal administration, courts and a certain juridical independence.” [31] Clearly, it is a gross anachronism to speak of national autonomy in the sixteenth century. This epoch knew nothing of the national question. In feudal society, only the classes had their special jurisdictions. Jewish autonomy is to be explained by the specific social and economic position of the Jews and not at all by their “nationality.” Its linguistic evolution also reflects the specific social position of Judaism. Hebrew disappeared very early as a living language. The Jews everywhere adopted the languages of the peoples among whom they lived. But this linguistic adaptation generally occurred in the form of a new dialect in which we again find some Hebraic expressions. There existed at various times in history Judo-Arabic, Judo-Persian, Judo-Provençal, Judo-Portuguese, Judo-Spanish, and other dialects, including, of course, Judo-German which has become present-day Yiddish. The dialect thus expresses the two contradictory tendencies which have characterized Jewish life; the tendency to integration in the surrounding society and the tendency to isolation, deriving from the socioeconomic situation of Judaism. [32] [33] It is only where the Jews cease constituting a special social group that they become completely assimilated in the surrounding society. “Assimilation is no new phenomenon in Jewish history,” states the Zionist sociologist Ruppin. [34] In reality, while Jewish history is the history of the preservation of Judaism, it is at the same time the history of the assimilation of large sections of Judaism. “In Northern Africa, in pre-Islamic times, great numbers of Jews were engaged in agriculture, but of these, too, the vast majority have been absorbed by the local population.” [35] This assimilation is explained by the fact that the Jews by turning agriculturists ceased to constitute a separate class. “Could they at all have taken to agriculture, they could hardly have done so without scattering through the country and its numerous villages, which, in spite of the difference in religion, would probably in a few generations have resulted in complete assimilation. Engaged in commerce and concentrated in towns, they formed agglomerations and developed a social life of their own, moving and marrying within their own community.” [36] Let us also recall the numerous conversions of Jewish landed proprietors in Germany in the fourth century; the complete disappearance of the Jewish warrior tribes of Arabia; the assimilation of the Jews in South America, in Surinam, etc. [37] The law of assimilation might be formulated as follows: Wherever the Jews cease to constitute a class, they lose, more or less rapidly, their ethnical, religious, and linguistic characteristics; they become assimilated. [38] It is very hard to trace Jewish history in Europe at several important periods, because the economic, social, and political conditions were so different in various countries. Whereas Poland and the Ukraine were completely feudal at the end of the eighteenth century, in Western Europe we witness an accelerated development of capitalism during this same period. It is easy to understand that the situation of the Jews in Poland bore far more resemblance to the situation of the French Jews in the Carolingian Era than to that of their coreligionists in Bordeaux or Paris. “The Portuguese Jew of Bordeaux and the German Jew of Metz are two absolutely different beings,” wrote a French Jew to Voltaire. The rich bourgeois Jews of France or Holland had virtually nothing in common with the Polish Jews who constituted a class in feudal society. Despite the marked differences in conditions and in the tempo of economic development of the various European countries inhabited by the Jews, a careful study permits the delineation of the following main stages of their history: 1. Precapitalist period This was also the period of the greatest prosperity of the Jews. Commercial and usurious “capital” found great possibilities for expansion in feudal society. The Jews were protected by the kings and princes, and their relations with other classes were in general good. This situation lasted up to the eleventh century in Western Europe. The Carolingian epoch, the culminating point of feudal development, was also the apex of Jewish prosperity. Feudal economy continued to dominate Eastern Europe till the end of the eighteenth century. And the center of Jewish life shifted more and more to that area. 2. Period of medieval capitalism From the eleventh century on, Western Europe entered a period of intensive economic development. The first stage of this evolution was characterized by the creation of a corporative industry and a native merchant bourgeoisie. The penetration of mercantile economy into the agricultural domain determined the second stage. The growth of cities and of a native merchant class brought with it the complete elimination of the Jews from commerce. They became usurers whose principal clientele consisted of the nobility and the kings. But the mercantile transformation of agricultural economy resulted in undermining these positions as well. The relative abundance of money enabled the nobility to throw off the yoke of the usurer. The Jews were driven from one country after another. Others became assimilated, being absorbed mainly by the native bourgeoisie. In certain cities, principally in Germany and in Italy, the Jews became primarily loan-makers to the popular masses, the peasants, and the artisans. In this role as petty usurers exploiting the people, they were often the victims of bloody uprisings. In general, the period of medieval capitalism was that of the most violent Jewish persecutions.

Jewish “capital” came into conflict with all classes of society. But the unevenness of economic development in the Western European countries operated to alter the forms of anti-Semitic struggles. In one country, it was the nobility which directed the struggle against the Jews; in others, it was the bourgeoisie, and in Germany, it was the people who unleashed the movement. Medieval capitalism was practically unknown in Eastern Europe. There was no separation between merchants capital and usurious capital. In contrast to Western Europe where “Jew” became synonymous with “usurer,” the Jews in Eastern Europe remained mainly traders and middlemen. Whereas the Jews were progressively eliminated from the countries of the West, they constantly strengthened their position in Eastern Europe. It was only in the nineteenth century that the development of capitalism (it is no longer corporative capitalism this time, but modern capitalism, which appears on the scene) began to undermine the prosperous condition of the Russian and Polish Jews. “The poverty of the Jews in Russia dates only from the abolition of serfdom and of the feudal regime in rural property. So long as the former and the latter existed, the Jews found wide possibilities for subsisting as merchants and middlemen.” [39] 3. Period of manufacture and industrial capitalism The capitalist period, properly speaking, began in the epoch of the Renaissance and manifested itself at first by a tremendous expansion of commerce and the growth of manufactures. To the extent that the Jews survived in Western Europe – and only a few were left there – they took part in the development of capitalism. But the theory of Sombart, who attributes a decisive activity to them in the development of capitalism, belongs to the sphere of fantasy. Precisely because the Jews represented a primitive capitalism (mercantile and usurious), the development of modern capitalism could only prove fatal to their social position. This fact does not at all exclude – far from it – the individual participation of the Jews in the creation of modern capitalism. But wherever the Jews were integrated into the capitalist class, there they were likewise assimilated. The Jew, as a great entrepreneur or shareholder of the Dutch or English India Company, was already on the threshold of baptism, a threshold, moreover, which he crossed with the greatest of ease. The progress of capitalism went hand in hand with the assimilation of the Jews in Western Europe. If Judaism did not completely disappear in the West, it was owing to the mass influx of Jews from Eastern Europe. The Jewish question, which is now posed on a world scale, therefore results primarily from the situation of Eastern Judaism. This situation is, in turn, a product of the lag in economic development of this part of the world. The special causes of Jewish emigration are thus linked with the general causes behind the emigration movement of the nineteenth century. The general emigration of the nineteenth century was caused in large measure by the failure of capitalist development to keep pace with the crumbling of feudal economy or manufacture economy. The ranks of the English peasants, evicted by the capitalization of rural economy, were swelled by the artisan or manufacturing workers displaced by machines. These peasant and artisan masses, eliminated by the new economic system, were driven to seek a livelihood across the ocean. But this situation was not indefinitely prolonged. Because of the rapid development of the productive forces in Western Europe, the section of the population deprived of its means of subsistence was presently able to find sufficient work in industry. That is the reason why, in Germany, for instance, emigration to America, which was very strong in the middle of the nineteenth century, dwindled almost completely toward the end of the century. The same applies to England and other countries of Western Europe. [40] While the disequilibrium between the crumbling of feudalism and the development of capitalism was disappearing in Western Europe, it was growing worse in the backward Eastern European countries. The destruction of feudal economy and primitive forms of capitalism proceeded there much more rapidly than the development of modern capitalism. Increasingly greater masses of peasants and artisans had to seek their road of salvation in emigration. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, it was principally the English, the Irish, the Germans, and the Scandinavians who formed the bulk of immigrants to America. The Slavic and Jewish element became dominant toward the end of the nineteenth century among the masses streaming to the New World. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Jewish masses sought new roads of immigration. But at first it was toward the interior of Russia and Germany that they headed. The Jews succeeded in penetrating the great industrial and commercial centers where they played an important role as merchants and industrialists. Here we come upon a new and important fact: For the first time in centuries a Jewish proletariat was born. The people-class began to differentiate socially. The Jewish proletariat, however, remained concentrated mainly in the sector of consumer goods industry. It was primarily of the artisan type. In the same measure as large-scale industry expanded its field of exploitation, the artisan branches of economy declined. The workshop was superseded by the factory. And it thus turned out that the integration of Jews into capitalist economy still remained extremely precarious. It was not alone the “precapitalist” merchant who was forced to emigrate, but also the Jewish artisan worker. Jewish masses streamed in ever larger numbers from Eastern Europe to the West and to America. The solution of the Jewish question, that is to say, the complete absorption of the Jews into economic life, thus became a world problem. 4. The decline of capitalism By socially differentiating Judaism, by integrating the latter into economic life, and by emigration, capitalism has laid the bases for the solution of the Jewish problem. But capitalism has failed to solve it. On the contrary, the fearsome crisis of the capitalist regime in the twentieth century has aggravated the plight of the Jews to an unparalleled degree. The Jews, driven from their economic positions under feudalism, could not be integrated into a capitalist economy in utter decay. In its convulsions, capitalism casts out even those Jewish elements which it has not yet completely assimilated. Everywhere is rife the savage anti-Semitism of the middle classes, who are being choked to death under the weight of capitalist contradictions.

Big capital exploits this elemental anti Semitism of the petty bourgeoisie in order to mobilize the masses around the banner of racism. The Jews are being strangled between the jaws of two systems: feudalism and capitalism, each feeding the rottenness of the other. * * * Notes 1. I. Bédarride, Les juifs en France, en Italie et en Espagne (Paris 1867), p. i. 2. General Encyclopedia (Yiddish) (Paris 1936), vol. 3, pp. 454–55. Article of Ben-Adiron anti-Semitism. 3. On the Jewish Question, Selected Essays by Karl Marx (New York 1926), p. 88. 4. ibid., p. 92. 5. ibid., p. 52. 6. See Arthur Ruppin, The Jews in the Modern World (London 1934), p. 22. 7. Flavius Josephus, Works (London 1844), p. 693. 8. “In the first place we know of no hostile power which might have forced our people before the final destruction of Jerusalem to spread out through all of Asia Minor, the Mediterranean islands, Macedonia, and Greece.” Dr. L. Herzfeld, Handelsgeschichte der Juden des Alterthums (Braunschweig, 1879), pp. 202–3. 9. Karl Kautsky in Neue Zeit. 10. Adolphe Lods, Israel from Its Beginnings to the Middle of the Eighth Century (London 1932), p. 18. 11. Lujo Brentano, Die Anfänge des Modernen Kapitalismus (Munich 1916), pp. 10, 15. 12. Herzfeld, op. cit., p. 203. 13. Henri Pirenne, Mohammed and Charlemagne (New York [1939]), pp. 18–19. 14. Theodor Mommsen, The Provinces of the Roman Empire (New York 1887), vol. 2, p. 179. 15. Theodor Mommsen, The History of Rome (London 1911), vol. 4, p. 509. Sombart, in his work of such uneven value, The Jews and Modern Capitalism (London 1913), wherein the worst of absurdities are mixed with highly interesting researches, states: “I think that the Jewish religion has the same leading ideas as capitalism.” (p. 205) This affirmation is correct provided we understand by “capitalism,” – precapitalist trade and usury (As we shall see later [chapter 4], it is false to attribute a preponderant role to the Jews in the building of modern capitalism.) In support of his thesis, Sombart cites many passages from the Talmud and other Jewish religious books which reflect this close connection between the Jewish religion and the commercial spirit. Here are, for example, several of these quotations: “He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man, he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich.” Proverbs, 2 1: 17. “Thou shalt lend unto many nations, but thou shalt not borrow.” Deuteronomy, 15:6. “The righteous therefore is prosperous here, and the wicked here suffers punishment.” “Rabbi Eleazar said: The righteous love their money more than their bodies.” Sota xiia. “And Rabbi Isaac also taught that a man always have his money in circulation.” Baba Mezia, 42a.

“And Rabbi Isaac also taught that a man always have his money in circulation.” Baba Mezia, 42a. It is naturally difficult to get a complete picture from a confused welter of texts, written and supplied with commentaries at different epochs and in different countries. The imprint of the commercial spirit is nevertheless clearly discernible in most of these writings. The work of Sombart is in this sense only an illustration of the Marxist thesis that religion is an ideological reflection of a social class. But by maintaining that it is religion which must have been the primary factor, Sombart, like other bourgeois scholars, strives to invert the causal relation. 16. Henri Laurent, Religion et affaires, Cahiers du libre examen. Aristotle says in his Politics (Jowett translation, Oxford, 1885, vol. 1, p. 19): “The most hated sort [of moneymaking], and with the greatest reason, is usury which makes a gain out of money itself, and not from the natural use of it. For money was intended to be used in exchange, but not to increase at interest. And this term, usury which means the birth of money from money, is applied to the breeding of money because the offspring resembles the parent. Wherefore of all modes of making money this is the most unnatural.” Further (p. 221), “citizens ... must not lead the life of mechanics or tradesmen, for such a life is ignoble and inimical to virtue.” 17. Contrary to the opinion of some historians, ancient economy was, despite a fairly important development of commercial transactions, based essentially on the production of use values. “This system [of home or family economy] prevails not only in primitive societies but even in those of Antiquity .... Under this system ... each group suffices unto itself, consuming hardly anything but what it has itself produced, and producing almost nothing beyond what it will consume.” Charles Gide, Principles of Political Economy (Boston 1905), p. 132. 18. Jean Juster, Les Juifs dans l’empire Romain (Paris 1914), vol. 1, p. 102. 19. Laurent, op. cit.. 20. “The peasant and the lord during the Middle Ages are not producers of merchandise ... It is true that they exchange their surpluses on occasion, but exchange is for them something fundamentally alien, an exception. Thus, neither the lord nor peasant generally possesses large sums of money. The greatest part of their wealth consists of use values, of wheat, cattle, etc. ... Circulation of merchandise, circulation of money-capital, and money economy in general are fundamentally alien to this form of society. Capital lives, according to the clear expression of Marx, in the pores of this society. It is into these pores that the Jew penetrated.” Otto Bauer, Die Nationalitätenfrage und die Sozialdemokratie (Vienna, 1907), p. 367. 21. Pirenne explains the preservation of the national character by the Germans in the Slav countries as follows: “The principal explanation [of this preservation] is the fact that among the Slays they were the initiators and for long centuries par excellence the representatives of the urban life. The Germans introduced the bourgeoisie into the midst of these agricultural populations, and the contrast between them was, perhaps, from the very first, that of social classes rather than national groups.” Henri Pirenne, A History of Europe (London 1939), p. 328. 22. Augustin Thierry, History of the Conquest of England by the Normans (London 1856), vol. 1, pp. xix–xx. 23. Karl Kautsky, Are the Jews a Race? (New York 1926), p. 58. My emphasis. Inasmuch as the divisions between the various classes in precapitalist times are airtight, it often happens that national differences persist for a very long time. They manifest themselves particularly in language differences. The language of a conquered people used to be demoted to the role of a despised popular tongue, while the language of the conquerors became the language of “high society”. In England, the Norman aristocracy continued for many centuries to use French while the people spoke Saxon. It is from the fusion of these two languages that modern English was formed. In the long run, the language differences faded away. The Burgundians, the Franks, and other barbarians quickly started speaking the language of their subjects. On the other hand, the Arab conquerors imposed their own language on conquered peoples. These language differences between classes disappeared completely only with the advent of the bourgeoisie to power. 24.

24. “Some classes, the ruling, the peasant and the merchant classes, for instance, arose from the union of different ethnological elements ... their characteristic differences are original. Such classes antedate the state and are the more easily maintained in it because their differences are both anthropological and moral.” Ludwig Gumplowicz, The Outline of Sociology (Philadelphia 1899), p. 134. 25. This scientific view has been perforce accepted for a long time by all serious historians. 26. “... Jewish capitalism was speculative pariah-capitalism, while Puritan capitalism consisted in the organization of citizen labor.” Max Weber, General Economic History (New York 1927), p. 381. 27. The correspondence between class and religion is, naturally, not absolute. All of the gentry were not Catholics, nor were all adherents of Calvinism bourgeois. But the classes do leave their imprint on religion. Thus, “revocation of the Edict of Nantes at the end of the seventeenth century exiled about 100,000 Protestants, almost all inhabitants of the cities and belonging to the industrial and commercial classes; for the Huguenot peasants, converted only in name, hardly left the kingdom.” Henri Sée, Economic and Social Conditions in France during the Eighteenth Century (New York 1927), p. 9. 28. Karl Marx, Capital, Kerr Edition, vol. 3, p. 716. 29. The sole known exception was a Mongol tribe, the Khazars, on the shores of the Caspian Sea, who adopted Judaism in the eighth century. Was there perchance a relation between the commercial function of this tribe and its conversion to Judaism? 30. Henri Pirenne, Belgian Democracy (London 1915), p. 46. 31. Lecture by Dubnow at a meeting of the Ethnographic Historical Society of St. Petersburg. [See also S.M. Dubnow, History of the Jews in Russia and Poland (Philadelphia 1916), vol. 1, p. 103. – Tr.] 32. As early as the fifth century before Christ, the Jews of the Diaspora spoke Aramaic. Later, they mainly used Greek. “The inscriptions [in the Jewish cemeteries in Rome] are mainly in Greek, some written in an almost unintelligible jargon; some are in Latin, none in Hebrew.” Ludwig Friedlander, Roman Life and Manners under the Early Empire (London 1910), vol. 3, p. 178. 33. It would be interesting to investigate why the Jews in the Slavic countries kept the German dialect (Yiddish) for so long a time. 34. Ruppin, op. cit., p. 271. 35. Ruppin, op. cit., p. 132. 36. Ruppin, op. cit., p. 132. 37. In the epoch of the development of capitalism, from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, assimilation in Western Europe generally meant penetration into the Christian capitalist class. The penetration of the Jews into the capitalist class may be compared to the “capitalization” of feudal properties. In the latter case, too, the struggle of the bourgeoisie against feudalism terminated in some cases with the total expropriation of the feudal class (as in France), and in other cases with the penetration of feudal elements into the capitalist class (as in England and Belgium).

In the latter case, too, the struggle of the bourgeoisie against feudalism terminated in some cases with the total expropriation of the feudal class (as in France), and in other cases with the penetration of feudal elements into the capitalist class (as in England and Belgium). Capitalist development has had a similar effect upon the Jews. In some cases they were assimilated; in others they were eliminated. 38. As a general rule the persecutions of the Jews were social in character. But the lag of ideology behind the social superstructure can account for certain purely religious persecutions. In some regions, the Jews were able to preserve their special religion for a fairly long time despite their transformation into agriculturists. In such cases, the persecutions were designed to hasten their conversion. What distinguishes religious persecutions from social persecutions (under a religious guise) is their less violent character and the feeble resistance of the Jews. Thus, it appears that in Visigoth Spain the Jews were in part agriculturists. Consequently, the Visigoth kings never thought of expelling them, as Ferdinand and Isabella did later. On the whole, purely religious persecutions must be considered as exceptional. 39. Werner Sombart, L’Apogée du Capitalisme (Paris 1932), vol. 1, p. 430. 40. “The economic progress of the principal European countries in the last quarter of the nineteenth century arrested the flow of emigration, but there soon began a second wave, comprising for the most part emigrants from the agrarian countries of Europe.” Vladimil Voitinski, Tatsachen und Zahlen Europas (Vienna 1930), p. 60. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 29 June 2020

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Voitinski, Vladimir. Tatsachen und Zahlen Europas. Vienna, 1930. Weber, Max. General Economic History. New York, 1927. Weinryb, S.B. Neueste Wirtschaftsgeschichte der Juden in Russland und Polen. Breslau, 1934. Wodd Jewish Congress (Economic Bureau). La Situation Économique des Juifs dans le Monde. Paris, 1938. Yiddishe Economic (Yiddish). Wilno. Yivo Studies in History. Wilno, 1937. Zeiller, Jacques. L’empire Romain et l’Église. Paris, 1928. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page

Abram Leon The Jewish Question FOUR The Jews in Europe after the Renaissance A. The Jews in Western Europe after the Renaissance The Thesis of Sombart. The discovery of the new world and the tremendous current of exchange that followed upon it sounded the death knell of the old corporative feudal world. Mercantile economy reached a higher stage, smashing the remnants of previous periods and preparing, by the development of manufacture and rural industry the bases of industrial capitalism. The place of the old centers of corporative industry and medieval trade, fallen into decay, was taken over by Antwerp, which became the commercial center of the world for a certain period. Everywhere, although at different times and in different forms, the decline of the economy producing use values was accompanied by the decay of the economic and social function of the Jews. An important number of the Jews was compelled to leave the countries of Western Europe in order to seek refuge in the countries where capitalism had not yet penetrated, principally in Eastern Europe and in Turkey. Others became assimilated, fused with the Christian population. This assimilation was not always easy. Religious traditions long survived the social situation which had been their foundation. For centuries the Inquisition struggled mercilessly and barbarously against Jewish traditions which persisted among the mass of converts. The Jews who penetrated into the merchant class acquired a certain notoriety under the name of “new Christians,” principally in America and also at Bordeaux and Antwerp. In the first half of the seventeenth century, all the great sugar plantations in Brazil were in the hands of Jews. By the decree of March 2, 1768, all registers concerning new Christians were destroyed; by the law of March 24, 1773, “new Christians” were made equal before the law with “old Christians.” In 1730, Jews possessed 115 plantations out of 344 at Surinam. But contrary to previous epochs, the activity of the Jews in America no longer had a special economic character; it was in no ways distinguished from the activity of Christians. The “new Christian” merchant was little different from the “old Christian” merchant. The same was true of the Jewish plantation owner. And this is also the reason why juridical, religious, and political distinctions rapidly disappeared. In the nineteenth century, the Jews in South America no longer constituted more than a handful. [1] Assimilation of the Jews proceeded just as rapidly in France and in England. The rich merchant Jews of Bordeaux, of whom it was said that they “possessed entire streets and had large trade,” felt themselves completely integrated into the Christian population. “Those who are acquainted with the Portuguese Jews of France, Holland, England, know that they are far from having an unconquerable hatred for all the peoples who surround them, as Mr. Voltaire says, but on the contrary they believe themselves so identified with these peoples that they consider themselves a part of them. Their Portuguese or Spanish origin has become a pure ecclesiastical discipline.” [2] The assimilated Jews of the West acknowledged no relationship with the Jews still living under the conditions of feudal life. “A Jew of London as little resembles a Jew of Constantinople as the latter does a Chinese Mandarin. A Portuguese Jew of Bordeaux and a German Jew of Metz have nothing in common.” “Mr. Voltaire cannot ignore the delicate scruples of the Portuguese and Spanish Jews in not mixing with the Jews of other nations, either by marriage or otherwise.” [3] Alongside the Spanish, French, Dutch, and English Jews, whose complete assimilation is proceeding slowly and surely, we still find Jews in Western Europe, primarily in Italy and in Germany, who inhabit ghettos and are mostly petty usurers and peddlers. This is a sorry remnant of the former Jewish merchant class. They are reviled, persecuted, subject to innumerable restrictions. It was on the special basis of the rather important economic role played by the first category of Jews that Sombart presented his famous thesis on “The Jews and Economic Life.” [4] He has himself summarized it in these terms: “The Jews promote the economic flowering of countries and cities in which they settle; they lead the countries and cities which they abandon to economic decay.” “They are the founders of modern capitalism.” “There would be no modern capitalism, no modern culture without the dispersion of the Jews in the countries of the North.” “Israel passes over Europe like the sun: at its coming new life bursts forth; at its going all falls into decay.” This is the way, in rather poetic fashion as we can see, that Sombart presents his thesis. And here are the proofs adduced in its support: “The first event to be recalled, an event of world-wide import, is the expulsion of the Jews from Spain (1492) and from Portugal (1495 and 1497). It should never be forgotten that on the day before Columbus set sail from Palos to discover America (August 3, 1492) 300,000 Jews are said to have emigrated from Spain ....” In the fifteenth century; the Jews were expelled from the most important commercial cities of Germany: Cologne (1424–25), Augsburg (1439–40), Strasbourg (1438), Erfurt (1458), Nuremberg (1498–99), Ulm (1499), Regensburg (1519). In the sixteenth century; the same fate befell them in a number of Italian cities; they were driven out of Sicily in 1492, from Naples in 1540–41, from Genoa and Venice in 1550. Here as well the decline of these cities coincides with the departure of the Jews. The economic development of Holland at the end of the sixteenth century is marked by a great rise of capitalism. The first Portuguese Marranos settled at Amsterdam in 1593. The brief flowering of Antwerp as the center of world trade and as a world exchange coincides exactly with the arrival and departure of Marranos. These arguments, essential to the Sombart thesis, are very easily refuted: 1. It is absurd to see in the simultaneity of the departure of Christopher Columbus “to discover America” and the expulsion of the Spanish Jews a proof of the decline of the countries which they left.

“Not only did Spain and Portugal not fall into decline in the sixteenth century; under Charles V and Emanuel, but on the contrary they reached their historical apogee at that time. Even at the beginning of the reign of Philip II, Spain is still the foremost power in Europe and the wealth of Mexico and Peru which flowed to it was immeasurable.” [5] This first Sombartist proof is based on a crying falsehood. 2. The very figures which he supplies on the redistribution of the Jewish refugees coming from Spain aids in demolishing his thesis. According to him, out of 165,000 exiles, 122,000 or 72 percent emigrated to Turkey and into Moslem countries. Consequently it is there that the “capitalist spirit” of the Jews should have produced the most important effects. Is it necessary to add then, that while we can speak of a certain economic rise in the Turkish empire under Suleiman the Magnificent, that country remained the least accessible to capitalism up to a very recent period, so that the rays of the sun there proved to be ... very cold? It is true that a rather important number of Jews (25,000) settled in Holland, at Hamburg, and in England, but can we concede that the same cause produced diametrically opposite effects? 3. The coincidence which Sombart perceives in the decline of the German cities is easily explained by reversing the causal relation. The ruin of these cities was not provoked by the measures taken against the Jews; these measures were on the contrary the effect of the decline of these cities. On the other hand, the prosperity of other cities was not the result of Jewish immigration but it was the latter which naturally directed itself toward prosperous cities. “It is obvious that the relation of cause and effect is contrary to that presented by Sombart.” [6] A study of the economic role of the Jews in Italy and Germany at the end of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries fully confirms this viewpoint. It is clear that the pawnshops, the business of Jewish usurers, were endurable so long as the economic situation of these cities was relatively good. Every worsening of the situation rendered the burden of usury more intolerable and the anger of the population vented itself first of all against the Jews. 4. The example of Holland does not, it is true, weaken the thesis of Sombart but neither does it reinforce it. Even if we admit that its prosperity was favored by the arrival of the Marranos, we are not thereby authorized to make it its cause. And how can we explain, if we base ourselves on this criterion, the decline of Holland in the eighteenth century? It appears, moreover, that the economic role of the Jews in Holland is exaggerated. Sayous says, in connection with the Dutch East India Company, whose importance to the prosperity of Holland was decisive: “The Jews have in any case no role whatsoever in the formation of the first genuinely modern stock corporation, the Dutch East India Company; they subscribed barely 0.1 percent of its capital and played no important role in its activity during the ensuing years.” [7] Is it necessary to continue? Must it be shown that the important economic development of England took place precisely after the expulsion of the Jews? “If the causal relation established by Sombart were true, how explain that in Russia and in Poland, where the southern people from the ‘desert’ have been most numerous for centuries, their influence on the northern peoples produced no economic flowering whatever?” [8] The theory of Sombart is consequently completely false. [9] Sombart claims that he is portraying the economic role of the Jews, but he does so in a completely impressionistic way, rearranging history to suit his theory. Sombart presents a thesis on the Jews and economic life in general, but deals solely with a very limited part of their history. Sombart builds a theory on the Jews in general and on economic life, but he limits himself to a minority of Western Jews, of Jews on the road to complete assimilation. In reality, even if the role of the Western Jews had been such as Sombart presents, he would still have had to make an abstraction from it in order to understand the Jewish question in the present period. Without the influx of Eastern Jews into Western Europe in the nineteenth century, the Western Jews would long ago have been absorbed in the surrounding milieu. [10] One more observation regarding the theory of Sombart: If the Jews constituted such an economic boon; if their departure provoked the economic decay of cities and countries, how explain their continuous persecution in the late Middle Ages? Can this be explained by religion? But then, why was the position of the Jews so solid in Western Europe in the early Middle Ages and in Eastern Europe up to the nineteenth century? How explain the prosperity of the Jews for long centuries in the most backward countries of Europe, in Poland, in Lithuania; the powerful protection accorded them by the kings? Can the difference in the situation of the Jews be explained by the difference in the intensity of religious fanaticism? But then how can we concede that religious fanaticism should be most intense precisely in the most developed countries? How can we explain that it was precisely in the nineteenth century that anti-Semitism developed most strongly in Poland? The question then is to seek the causes for the existence of differences in the intensity of religious fanaticism. And thus we are brought back to the duty of studying economic phenomena. Religion explains anti-Jewish persecutions like a soporific explains sleep. If the Jews had really played the role that Sombart attributes to them, it would be very difficult to understand why the development of capitalism was such a mortal blow to them. [11] It is consequently inaccurate to regard the Jews as founders of modern capitalism. The Jews certainly contributed to the development of exchange economy in Europe but their specific economic role ends precisely where modern capitalism starts. B. The Jews in Eastern Europe up to the nineteenth century At the dawn of the development of industrial capitalism, Western Judaism was on the road to disappearance. The French Revolution, by destroying the last juridical obstacles which stood in the way of assimilation of the Jews, only gave sanction to an already existing situation. But it is certainly not by chance that at the same time that the Jewish question was being extinguished in the West, it rebounded with redoubled violence in Eastern Europe.

In the period when the Jews in Western Europe were being massacred and burned, a large number of Jews had sought refuge in the countries where capitalism had still not penetrated. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the immense majority of Jews inhabited the east of Europe, principally the former territory of the monarchist republic of Poland. In this paradise of a carefree Shlachta (petty nobility), the Jewish commercial class had found a large field of activity. For long centuries, the Jew was a merchant, usurer, publican, steward to the noble, an agent for everything. The small Jewish cities, submerged in a sea of peasant villages, often themselves adjoining the chateaux of the Polish feudal lords, represented exchange economy within a purely feudal society. The Jews were situated, as Marx states, in the pores of Polish society. This situation lasted as long as the social and political organization of Poland remained static. In the eighteenth century, following upon political confusion and economic decay, Polish feudalism found itself fatally stricken. Along with it the secular position of the Jews in Eastern Europe was shaken to its foundations. The Jewish problem, close to vanishing in the West, flared up violently in Eastern Europe. The flame, close to extinction in the West, received renewed vitality from the conflagration which arose in the East. The destruction of the economic position of the Jews in Eastern Europe will have as a consequence a massive emigration of Jews into the world. And everywhere, although in different forms and under different guises, the flood of Jewish immigrants coming from Eastern Europe will revitalize the Jewish problem. It is in this respect that the history of the Jews of Eastern Europe has certainly been the decisive factor in the Jewish question in our epoch. The commercial relations of the Jews of Eastern Europe, of Bohemia, Poland, and Little Russia, date from the Carolingian era. The trading circuit that the Jews had established during the early Middle Ages between Asia and Europe became extended in this way across the fields of Poland and the plains of the Ukraine. Like their coreligionists, the Radamites, the Eastern Jews exchanged the precious products of Asia, spices and silks, for the raw materials of Europe. They constituted the sole commercial element in a purely agricultural society. In the Carolingian era, the economic regime of all Europe being practically the same, the role of Eastern Judaism was similar to that of Western Judaism. It is only later that their history will enter upon completely different paths. Accounts of the travels of Ibrahim Ibn Jakob (965) testify to the considerable development of Jewish trade at Prague in the tenth century. The Jews came there from the Far East and from Byzantium, bringing different kinds of precious merchandise and Byzantine money, and there bought wheat, tin, and furs. In a document of 1090, the Jews of Prague are depicted as traders and money changers, possessing large sums of silver and gold; they are depicted as the richest merchants among all peoples. Jewish slave merchants, as well as other Jewish traders coming from the Far East and traversing the frontier in caravans, are also mentioned in documents of 1124 and 1226. The interest rate among the Jewish bankers of Prague, whose operations were very extensive, fluctuated between 108 and 180 percent. [12] The chronicler Gallus states that in 1085, Judith, the wife of Prince Ladislag Herman of Poland, strove to buy back some Christian slaves from Jewish merchants. Excavations undertaken in the past century have helped bring to light the great economic importance of the Jews in Poland in this period. Polish money has been discovered bearing Hebraic characters and dating from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. This fact in itself proves that Polish trade was in the hands of the Jews. The Tartar invasions of the thirteenth century must certainly have had some influence on the Russian and Polish Jews, but as early as 1327, there is a privilege conferred by the Polish king, Vladislav Lokietek, involving Hungarian Jewish merchants coming to Kraków. Far from diminishing, Jewish trade in Poland only takes on greater extension in the course of succeeding centuries. Just as in Western Europe, development of trade went together with an expansion of usury. Here also, the nobility, principal client of the Jewish usurers, strove to obtain restrictions on Jewish usury as against the kings who favored it “for the Jews, in their capacity as slaves of the treasury must always have money ready for our service.” In the sejm of 1347, the nobility, desiring to limit the interest rate which had reached 108 percent, collided with the firm resistance of royalty. In 1456, King Casimir Jagiello proclaims that in protecting the Jews he is inspired by the principle of tolerance which is imposed upon him by divine law. In 1504, the Polish king, Alexander, declares that he acts towards the Jews as befits “kings and the powerful who distinguish themselves not only by tolerance towards worshippers of the Christian religion but also towards the adherents of other religions.” Under such auspices, the affairs of Jews could not help but prosper. In the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, Jewish usurers succeeded in taking possession of a portion of the lands belonging to the nobles. In 1389, the Jew Sabetai becomes proprietor of a section of the Cawilowo domain. In 1390, the Kraków Jew Iosman receives the property of Prince Diewiez of Pszeslawic as security. In 1393, the Posen Jew Moschko takes possession of the Ponicz manor. In 1397, the lands of the Abiejesz manor are pledged with the Posen Jew Abraham. These lands of the nobles are allotted to the Jews with complete property rights. Thus, in the last cited example, the noble having attacked the possessions transmitted to Abraham, the tribunal confirms the right of possession of the Jew and punishes the aggressor with a heavy fine. In 1404, the verdict of a tribunal declares that three villages pledged with the Jew Schmerlin of Kraków, are transmitted to him with complete property rights and forever (cum omnibus juribus utilitatibus dominio, etc.

in perpetuum). The most important “bankers” lived in Kraków, residence of the kings. Their principal debtors were in effect the kings, the princes, the voyevode (governors), and the archbishops. Thus Casimir the Great borrowed the enormous sum of 15,000 marks from Jewish bankers. King Louis of Hungary owed the usurer Levko of Kraków 30,000 gulden at one time, 3,000 gulden at another. King Vladislav Jagiello and the queen, Jadwiga, also owed him substantial sums. Levko was not only a great banker; he was also a wholesale farmer for the kingdom. He leased the mint and coined its money; and the salt mines of Wieliczka and of Bochnia were also farmed out to him. He owned houses at Kraków, as well as a brewery. Just like the great patricians, he was honored with the title of “vir discretus.” The usury of the great Jewish bankers such as Miesko, Jordan of Posen, and Aron, who succeeded in amassing immense properties and took possession of villages and lands, raised a storm of protest among the nobility. The Statute of Warta (1423) greatly restricted Jewish usury. Thus, in 1432, the Jew Alexander, with whom the villages Dombrowka and Sokolow and a part of their living inventory had been pledged, was forced to return these properties to his debtor by decision of the tribunal, the Statute of Warta having proscribed loans on real property. The Jews and the kings did not readily resign themselves to this situation. A fierce struggle enabled them to abolish the Statute of Warta. The bankers were able to expand their sphere of operation. Thus, in 1444, the King pledged his palace at Lemberg to the banker Schina.This usurer also had among his clients Prince Szwidrigiella, the voyevoda Chriczka, who had pledged the village of Winiki with him, etc. But neither did the nobility accept defeat. It returned continuously to the charge and succeeded in forcing the king to promulgate the Statute of Nieszawa in 1454, with harsher provisions than the Statute of Warta. Nevertheless, and this fact is sufficient to show the fundamental difference which existed in this sphere between Poland and Western Europe, the most Draconian laws were not able to end Jewish usury. Starting with 1455, we even witness a rebirth of the banking trade mainly as a result of the immigration of Jews from Moravia and Silesia, as well as from other countries. From 1460 on, the records of Kraków testify to such an extensive revival of usurious transactions that this period is reminiscent of the epoch of Levko and of Schmerlin. The richest banker is a certain Fischel who had married the female banker Raschka of Prague and who furnished funds to the Polish king, Casimir Jagiello, as well as to his sons, the future kings Albrecht and Alexander. Whereas the nobility of Western Europe, thanks to the penetration of exchange economy and to an abundance of money, succeeded in ridding itself everywhere of Jewish usury the persistence of feudal economy in Eastern Europe made the nobility powerless on this terrain. Jewish banking survived all proscriptions. The backward state of the country also fettered the evolution which we have observed in the countries of Western Europe: the eviction of Jews from commerce and their confinement within usury. The bourgeois class and the cities were only beginning to develop. The struggle of the bourgeoisie against the Jews remained in an embryonic state and did not achieve any decisive results. The artisans, oppressed by Jewish usury, joined ranks with the traders. Here also, the sooner a province developed, the sooner arose conflicts with the Jews. In 1403, at Kraków, and in 1445 at Bochnia, artisans incite massacres of Jews. But the struggles were only episodic and nowhere ended with the elimination of the Jewish element. On the contrary, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, their situation is only strengthened and Jewish commerce continues to flourish. In the second half of the fourteenth century, we hear of a “syndicate” of three Lemberg Jews, Schlomo, Czewja, and Jacob, formed with a view to furnishing Italian merchandise to the city council of Lemberg. At the beginning of the fifteenth century Jews are provisioners of the royal court. In 1456, the starosta of Kamieniec Podolsky confiscates Oriental merchandise worth six hundred marks from Jewish merchants coming to Poland from the commercial centers of the Black Sea. The Byzantine and Italian Jews of Capha made numerous trips to Poland. The Jew Caleph Judaeus of Capha passed great quantities of Oriental goods through the customhouse of Lemberg. Even after the destruction of the Italian colonies in the Black Sea (1475) the Jews continued to maintain relations with the Orient. From 1467 on, the Jew David of Constantinople regularly supplied Lemberg with Oriental goods. There is even mention of a renewal of the slave trade in Little Russia from 1440 to 1450. Russian law books recount an interesting fact in 1449: A slave belonging to a Jew Mordecai of Galicia having fled, his owner sues in the courts for his return. The Jewish merchants of Capha and Constantinople came only to the great fairs of Lemberg and Lublin. To these also came the Jews dispersed throughout the Russian and Polish cities and market towns in order to purchase Oriental goods and spread them throughout the districts which they inhabited. These Jewish merchants traveled the roads running from Lemberg and Lublin through Little and Greater Poland up to the Silesian frontier. The Jews also crossed this frontier and conducted a very lively trade with Bohemia and Germany. Letters from 1588 inform us that hides and furs were brought from Kraków to Prague and that money was loaned at interest and against pledges.

The fair of Lublin served as the commercial meeting place between the Jewish merchants of Poland and of Lithuania. The Jewish merchants exported hides, furs, timber, honey from Lithuania, and at the Lublin fair they bought spices coming from Turkey and manufactured goods originating in Western Europe. Records of the city of Danzig mention Jewish merchants from Lithuania who exported timber, wax, fins, hides, etc., during the period 1423 to 1436. The position of Lithuanian Judaism was still more favorable than that of the Polish Jews. Until the Union of Lublin (Union of Poland and Lithuania), the Lithuanian Jews enjoyed the same rights as the entire free population. In their hands lay big business, banking, the customhouses, etc. The farming of taxes and customs brought them great wealth. Their clothes glittered with gold and they wore swords just like the gentry. Records of the Lithuanian chancellery show that in the period from 1463 to 1494 the Jews had leased almost all the customs offices of the Duchy of Lithuania: Bielek, Bryansk, Brchiczin, Grodno, Kiev, Minsk, Novgorod, Zhitomin. Some documents from the years 1488 and 1489 mention certain Jews of Trock and of Kiev as exploiting the Grand Duke’s salt mines. In the same period, we begin to meet Jews in the role of publicans, a profession which in the Polish and Little Russian village goes hand in hand with the trade of usury. The strengthening of the anarchy of the nobles in Poland necessarily affected the situation of the Jews. In the sixteenth century, their position remains very solid but they pass more and more from royal control to that of the large and small feudal lords. The decline of the royal power makes its protection less effective and the Jews themselves seek less brilliant but surer protectors. King Sigismund complains to the sejm of 1539: “The aristocracy of our kingdom wants to monopolize all the profits of the Jews inhabiting the market towns, villages, and manors. It demands the right to judge them. To that we reply: If the Jews themselves resign the privileges of an autonomous jurisdiction which the kings our forefathers granted them and which have also been confirmed by us, they do in fact abandon our protection, and no longer drawing profit from them, we have no reason whatever to impose our kindnesses on them by force.” It is obvious that if the Jews now declined these “kindnesses,” it was because royalty no longer had any degree of real power in this country dominated by the nobles. In the sixteenth century the situation of the Jews became stronger. They received anew all the rights against which attempts had been made in the preceding century. Their economic position improved. The growing power of the nobility (Poland became an electoral kingdom in 1569) deprived them of the protection of the kings, but the feudal lords did everything to stimulate their economic activity. The traders, lenders at interest, stewards of the noble manors, with their inns and breweries, were extremely useful to the feudal lords who passed their time abroad in luxury and idleness. “The small towns located on the estates of the nobility were full of shops, of inns, of eating and drinking places, as well as of artisans. The Jew enjoyed absolute freedom if he only succeeded in ingratiating himself into the favor of his lord or ‘Poritz’.” [13] The economic situation of the Jews was in general very good but their subordinate position to the nobility sapped the basis of the highly developed Jewish autonomy which had existed in Poland. “Circumstances were such at that time that the Jews of Poland could form a state within a state.” [14] With their special religious, administrative, and juridical institutions, the Jews constituted a special class there enjoying a special internal autonomy. A decree of Sigismund August (1551) established the following bases for the autonomy of the Jews of Great Poland: The Jews had the right to choose, upon general agreement among themselves, rabbis and judges who were to administer them. The coercive power of the State could be put at their disposal. Each Jewish city or market town had a community council. In large centers, the community council consisted of forty members; in small ones, of ten members. The members of this council were elected by a system of double voting. The activity of the council was very extensive. It had to raise taxes, administer the schools, institutions, decide economic questions, engage in administering justice. The power of each council, called a Kahal, extended to the Jews of the surrounding villages. The councils of the large cities had authority over the small communities. In this way community unions were created, the Galil. We have already spoken of the Vaad Arba Aratzoth which was the General Assembly of the Jewish councils of Poland (of four countries, Great Poland, Little Poland [Kraków], Podolia [Galicia-Lemberg], and Volhynia), which met at regular intervals and constituted a veritable parliament. In the seventeenth century the foundations of Jewish autonomy began to rock. This coincided with the worsening of the situation of Polish Judaism as it began to feel the disagreeable effects of the anarchy that Polish feudal society was passing through. The partial change in the situation of the Jews, arising from the lessening of royal authority, had as result the placing of the Jews in greater contact than previously with the great mass of the bonded population. The Jew, becoming the steward of the noble or a publican, was hated by the peasants equally with or even more than the lords, because he was the one who became the principal instrument for their exploitation. This situation soon led to terrible social explosions, above all in the Ukraine, where the authority of the Polish nobility was weaker than in Poland. The existence of vast steppes permitted the formation of Cossack military colonies where fleeing peasants could prepare their hour of vengeance. “The Jewish steward strove to draw as much as possible from the manors and to exploit the peasant as much as possible. The Little Russian peasant bore a deep hatred for the Polish landed proprietor, in his double role as foreigner and noble.

But he hated even more, perhaps, the Jewish steward with whom he was in continuous contact and in whom he saw at one and the same time the detestable representative of the lord and a ‘non-Christian’ who was foreign to him both by his religion and his way of life.” [15] The tremendous Cossack revolt of Chmielnicki in 1648 results in completely erasing seven hundred Jewish communities from the face of the earth. At the same time the revolt demonstrates the extreme feebleness of the anarchic Polish kingdom and prepares its dismemberment. From 1648 on, Poland never ceases to be the prey to invasions and domestic troubles. With the end of the old feudal state of things in Poland the privileged position of Judaism is likewise finished. Massacres decimate it; the anarchy which rules the country makes any normal economic activity impossible. The worsening of the situation of the Jews weakens the old ideological bases of Judaism. Poverty and persecution create a propitious terrain for the development of mysticism. Study of the Kabbala begins to replace that of the Talmud. Messianic movements like that of Sabbatai Zebi take on a certain dimension. It is also interesting to recall the conversion of Frank and his adherents to Christianity. “The Frankists demanded that they be given a special territory because they did not want to exploit the peasants and live from usury and the exploitation of taverns. They preferred to work the land.” [16] These movements did not take on very great dimensions because the position of Judaism was not as yet definitely compromised. It is only toward the close of the eighteenth century that Polish feudal society really begins to cave in under the combined blows of internal anarchy, economic decay, and foreign intervention. It is then that the problems of emigration and of passing over to other professions (“productivization”) begin to be posed for Judaism. Notes 1. In the nineteenth century “there were hundreds of Jewish merchants, landed proprietors, and even soldiers scattered throughout the vast republics of what once was Spanish South America, but they now knew hardly anything of the religion of their fathers.” Martin Philippson, Neueste Geschichte des Jüdischen Volkes (Leipzig 1907), p. 226. 2. In England “certain Spanish Jews converted to Christianity ... Some families which later became famous throughout the world thus abandoned Judaism: the Disraelis, Ricardos, Aguilars. Other Sephardic families were slowly assimilated by English society.” Heinrich Hirsch Graetz, Histoire Juive, vol. 6, p. 344. 3. Lettres de Quelques Juifs, 5th edition, 1781. Quoted by Sombart, Jews and Modern Capitalism, op. cit., p. 348. 4. See Sombart, Jews and Modern Capitalism, op. cit., chapter 2. 5. Brentano, Die Anfänge des Modernen Kapitalismus, op. cit., p. 163. 6. Brentano, Ibid., p. 165. 7. André Sayous, Les Juifs, Revue Économique Internationale, March 1932, p. 526. 8. Brentano, Die Anfänge des Modernen Kapitalismus, op. cit., pp. 165–66. 9. “Mr. Sombart’s book on the Jews suffers from an endless sequence of serious errors; one might call it the rigorous development of a paradox by a man having the genius for portraying things with a great sweep. Like every paradox, it does not consist solely of false ideas; its part relating to the present period deserves to be read, although it very often deforms the characteristics of the Semitic people. Its historical portion in every case is almost ridiculous ...

Its historical portion in every case is almost ridiculous ... Modern capitalism was born and first developed at the moment when the Jews, rejected almost everywhere, were in no condition to become its precursors.” Sayous, op. cit., p. 533. 10. See Chapter 6. 11. In history, “the position of the Jews during the Middle Ages may be compared sociologically with that of an Indian caste in a world otherwise free from castes ... Hardly a Jew is found among the creators of the modern economic situation .... This type was Christian and only conceivable in the field of Christianity. The Jewish manufacturer, on the contrary is a modern phenomenon.” Weber, op. cit., pp. 358–60. 12. Schipper, Jewish History, op. cit., vol. 2, pp. 77–81. 13. Graetz, Popular History of the Jews (New York 1919), vol. 5, p. 10. 14. Ibid., vol. 5, p. 28. 15. Graetz. 16. Graetz. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 2 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question Translator’s foreword Writing in the shadow of Nazi occupation, the possibility of conforming his work on the Jewish question to certain formal standards of scholarship simply did not exist for the author. In making the English translation of his work, considerable time and effort were devoted to locating and identifying Leon’s source material and quotations, so as to eliminate, insofar as possible, this purely technical shortcoming. We were not always successful in this research project, and it has considerably delayed the appearance of the work in English, but it is hoped that even this limited success will prove helpful to serious students of Jewish history and the Jewish question. One further word as regards quoted material: English sources have in all cases been used as they appear in English editions – they are not retranslations from the French text. In all other cases, we have utilized standard English translations of foreign works, where they exist; and where the sources remain untranslated we have checked Leon’s text against the original French, German, or Yiddish editions. Mexico City, 1950 Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 27 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question FIVE Evolution of the Jewish problem in the nineteenth century At the beginning of the nineteenth century the immense majority of Jews was concentrated in the backward countries of Eastern Europe. In Poland at the time of the partition of the country there were over a million Jews. According to the Russian census of 1818, the social composition of Eastern Judaism was the following: BUSINESSMEN ARTISANS FARMERS Ukrainia 86.5% 12.1% 1.4% Lithuania and White Russia 86.6% 10.8% 2.6% Together 86.5% 11.6% 1.9% The percentage of artisans and farmers indicates the beginning of the social differentiation of Judaism. But in a general way, the structure of Eastern Judaism had not yet undergone any important changes; it remained what it had been for many centuries. Certain travelers’ stories by soldiers who participated in the Russian campaign of Napoleon constitute invaluable testimony relative to the life of the Jews at the beginning of the nineteenth century. “Many of them,” says von Furtenbach, “farm out and manage seignorial manors and exploit taverns. Everything is in their hands. They lend money to lords and peasants and they go to purchase merchandise at Leipzig.” [1] Another soldier, the Frenchman Puybusque, in his Lettres sur la guerre en Russie (Paris 1818), supplies interesting information on the role of the Jews in the economic life of the country: “They were the intermediaries between the peasants and the lords. The lords farmed out the taverns to them and compelled them to sell only drinks made in their manors. On the occasion of festivals, baptisms, burials, marriages, the peasants were compelled to buy at least a bucket of whiskey. The Jews sold them on credit but exacted heavy interest. They intervened in all the commercial operations of the country. They were also bankers.” The author relates that constant business relations linked the Polish Jews to their brothers in Germany. They had their own postal service and were informed about stock exchange quotations everywhere in Europe. [2] The author of Journey of the Moscovite Officer V. Bronevsky from Trieste to Constantinople in 1810 states: “Poland should in all justice be called a Jewish kingdom ... The cities and towns are primarily inhabited by them. Rarely will you find a village without Jews. Jewish taverns mark out all the main roads ... Apart from some rare manors which are administered by the lords themselves, all the others are farmed out or pledged to the Jews. They possess enormous capitals and no one can get along without their help. Only some few very rich lords are not plunged up to the neck in debt with the Jews.” [3] “The Jews in the villages,” writes Kamanine in L’archive de la russie méridionale et occidentale, “restrict themselves to farming [leasing] mills, liquor shops and taverns. There is hardly a village without its Jewish ‘farmer:’ Such is the extent of this that the census often confines the idea of farmer with that of Jew and links the profession to the nationality or to the religion. Instead of writing ‘there is no Jew in the village,’ they write: ‘there is no “farmer” in the village.’ ” [4] Nevertheless, while believing that they were describing the present, these various authors were no longer painting anything but the past. The secular situation of Judaism in Eastern Europe was, very slowly it is true, being swept away in the current of capitalist economy. Even before substituting itself for the old, the new regime was breaking it. The decay of feudalism preceded its replacement by new capitalist forms. “The numerical growth of the Jews demanded new and greater means of subsistence while the old economic positions were vanishing ... The Jews, adapted for centuries to a natural economy, felt the ground slipping beneath their feet ... In that earlier undeveloped economy they had been the middlemen and had held a virtual monopoly of trade ... The process of capitalization in Russia and in Poland now led the landed proprietors to attend personally to various branches of production and to drive the Jews out of them. Only a small section of rich Jews could find a favorable field of action in this new situation.” [5] On the other hand, the immense majority of Jews, consisting of petty merchants, publicans, and peddlers, suffered greatly from this new state of things. The old trade centers of the feudal epoch declined. New industrial and commercial cities supplanted the small towns and fairs. A native bourgeoisie began to develop. “The economic situation of the Jewish masses had become so critical, even before the partition of Poland, that questions of the transformation of the social structure of the Jews and of their emigration became posed automatically.” [6] Emigration was possible in this period only within the boundaries of the states into which Poland had been divided. The Jewish masses strove to leave the decadent and backward regions of the former aristocratic kingdom with the continually declining possibilities for subsistence, in order to seek new occupations in the more developed sections of the empires which had inherited Poland. As early as 1776 and 1778 several Polish Jewish communities ask the Russian government for permission to emigrate to Russia. “At the beginning of the nineteenth century a large stream of emigration is going from former Poland towards Russia.” [7] The same was true of the regions annexed by Prussia and Austria. The Jews headed for Berlin, for Vienna, for all the centers in which the pulse of a new economic life was beating, where commerce and industry offered them vast openings. “Jewish emigration from Podolia, Volhynia, White Russia and Lithuania, towards Russia, that of Posnan and Polish Jews to England and even to America, all prove that the Jews of Eastern Europe were looking for countries of immigration as early as the first half of the nineteenth century.” [8] This desire for expatriation went hand in hand with attempts to make the Jews into “useful citizens,” to adapt them to the new situation by making them artisans and farmers. The Polish “Great Sejm” of 1784-88, already had the problem of the “productivization” of the Jews on its agenda.

[9] All the governments which had inherited a section of Polish Judaism considered its social structure as an anomaly. Attempts were made to transform the Jews into factory workers. Premiums were granted both to artisans who hired Jewish apprentices and to the Jews who became apprentices. [10] Thousands of Jews were also colonized in certain regions of Russia. Tsar Alexander I encouraged this colonization. Despite great difficulties at the start, these villages succeeded in becoming acclimated in the long run. “Two processes characterize the development of the Jewish people in the course of the last century: the process of emigration and the process of social differentiation ... The decay of the feudal system and of feudal property and the rapid growth of capitalism in Central and Eastern Europe created new sources for subsistence, but in a far greater measure they destroyed their positions as intermediaries, by which the greatest part of the Jewish people lived. These processes forced the Jewish masses to change their living places as well as their social appearance; forced them to seek a new place in the world and a new occupation in society.” [11] At the beginning of the nineteenth century the process of “productivization” is still only in its opening phase. On the one hand, the decline of feudal economy is proceeding rather slowly and the Jews are still able to hang on to their old positions for a long time; on the other hand, the development of capitalism is still clothed in quite primitive forms and a great number of Jews find a vast field for occupations in trade and in artisanry. [12] They played a role as very active commercial agents for young capitalist industry and contributed to the capitalization of agriculture. In general we may consider that Jewish penetration into capitalist society took place up to the end of the nineteenth century. Towards the end of the nineteenth century, however, substantial masses of Jews were compelled to leave Eastern Europe. The annual average of Jewish emigration was: 1830 to 1870 4,000 to 5,000 1871 to 1880 8,000 to 10,000 1881 to 1900 50,000 to 60,000 1901 to 1914 150,000 to 160,000 During the first period, which extends up to 1870, we witness primarily an internal migration directed towards the great cities. From 1830 to 1870, when annual emigration did not exceed 7,000, the Jewish people increased from 3,281,000 to 7,763,000. Consequently, this substantial natural increase was in the main absorbed within the countries inhabited by the Jews. But what an extraordinary change takes place, beginning with 1881 and even more so after 1901, when Jewish emigration reaches the truly impressive figure of 150,000 to 160,000 per annum! What were the causes for this change? The process of capitalization of Russian economy was accelerated by the reform of 1863. Agriculture began to produce increasingly for the market. The bonds of serfdom and of feudal restrictions became looser; social differentiation progressed rapidly in the village. A section of peasants became transformed into well-to-do farmers; another section became proletarianized. Capitalization of agriculture had as effect the opening of an important domestic market for means of production (machines, etc.) and for articles of consumption. Capitalist production in agriculture means in effect the following: (1) division of labor within agriculture due to the specialization of its branches; (2) a growing demand for manufactured products by the enriched peasants and by the proletarianized mass, which has only its labor power to sell and must purchase its subsistence; (3) agricultural production for the market necessitates a more and more extensive use of machines, and this develops industry in the means of production; (4) growth in production of the means of production brings with it a continuous increase of the proletarian mass in the cities, and this contributes also to enlarging the market for means of consumption. These vast possibilities within the domestic market gave the Jewish masses, crowded out of their former economic positions, the opportunity to integrate themselves into capitalist economy. Workshops and small industries experienced a great expansion. Whereas the non-Jewish blacksmith or peasant found his way into the factory or the mine, the Jewish proletarianized masses flowed into small industries producing consumers goods. [13] But there is a fundamental difference between the transformation of the peasant or blacksmith into a steelworker and the transformation of a Jewish merchant into an artisan or garment worker. Capitalist development of the branches of heavy industry is accompanied by a change in the material conditions of production. Not only do the means of production change their destination but they also change their form. The primitive tool becomes the perfected modern machine. The same is not true of the means of consumption. Clothing, whether it be produced for the maker’s own use or for the local or world market, does not change its appearance. The same is not true of the tool which is transformed into the ever increasingly perfected machine and which requires the investment of increasingly greater capital. In order to undertake the manufacture of machines, it is necessary, from the very beginning, to have a large capital. This is explained, especially in the beginning, by the length of the working period, the “number of consecutive working days required in a branch of production for the completion of the finished product.” [14] “According to the working period required by the specific nature of the product, or by the useful effect aimed at, is short or long, a continuous investment of additional circulating capital (wages, raw and auxiliary materials) is required ...” [15] It is for this reason that from its very beginning production of the means of production has taken place in the capitalist form of large factories, whereas the production of means of consumption can continue to be carried out in the same artisan workshops as before. It is only much later that the great factory crowds out the workshop and its outmoded methods of work in this latter sphere as well. This follows upon the invention of perfected machines which then invade the sector of the means of consumption.

It is, consequently, the growth of fixed capital which here plays a dominant role. [16] In this way conditions of production in these two main sectors of economy are brought to the same level. “Whether a steam engine transfers its value daily to some yarn, which is the product of a continuous labor-process, or for three months to a locomotive, which is the product of a continuous process, is immaterial for the investment of the capital required for the purchase of the steam engine ... In either case, the reproduction of the steam-engine may not take place until after twenty years.” [17] The liberation of the peasants in Russia had created a big market for manufactured products. Instead of an economy still largely feudal, the production of exchange values becomes established. Russia begins to become the granary of Europe. Cities, centers of trade and industry, rapidly develop. The Jews leave the small towns en masse in order to settle in the great urban centers, where they contribute heavily to the development of trade and artisan industry (means of consumption). In 1900, out of twenty-one important cities in Poland, Jews are an absolute majority in eleven of them. Migration of the Jews into the large cities is accompanied by a social differentiation which shakes the traditional bases of Judaism. But the development of the means of production sector brings about a mechanization of agriculture and light industry. Machines begin to compete fiercely with the small Jewish artisan workshops. Towards the end of the last century a great mass of non-Jewish workers migrates to the great cities where the rhythm of increase in the Jewish population is falling off and even coming to a complete halt. [18] Jewish artisan industries, which developed because of the expansion of the domestic market, succumb for the most part because of the mechanization and modernization of industry. It was difficult for the Jewish artisan to compete with the peasant masses flowing in from the country who had a very low standard of living and were accustomed to hard physical labor from earliest times. Of course, in some places Jewish workers, surmounting all difficulties, also found a place in mechanized industries, but for the most part they had to take the path of exile at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century. The process of transformation of the Jewish precapitalist merchant into a craft worker is crossed by another process, that of the elimination of the Jewish worker by the machine. [19] This last process influences the first. The Jewish masses, crowded out of the small towns are no longer able to become proletarianized and are forced to emigrate. Herein, in large part lies the explanation of the enormous growth in Jewish emigration at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century. Whereas dissolution of the old feudal economy and creation of the domestic market had similar effects on the Jewish and non-Jewish masses, industrial mechanization and concentration produced opposite results. From that also arise certain different tendencies in Jewish emigration from those of general emigration. Jewish emigration is relatively late and continues to increase, whereas the reverse is often the case for general emigration. For example, in Germany annual emigration, which fluctuated between 100,000 and 200,000 persons from 1880 to 1892, never exceeded 20,000 at the beginning of the twentieth century. This heavy drop in German emigration is explained by the tremendous economic development of Germany in this period. The phenomenon of the elimination of the Jews from industry leads us quite naturally to the subject of the Jewish proletariat. The confinement of the Jewish working class in consumer goods industries undoubtedly constitutes one of the most remarkable phenomena of the economic and social structure of the Jewish people. The fact that a tiny number of Jewish workers is involved in the initial phases of industrial production, whereas their percentage in the final phases is extremely high, strikingly characterizes what has become known as the Jewish anomaly. This economic base of the Jewish proletariat is not alone weak in itself, it is also continually contracted by technological development. The Jewish workers not only suffer the inconveniences inherent in craft industry notably social weakness, seasonal employment, sharpening exploitation and bad working conditions, but they are increasingly driven out of their economic positions. Capitalist economy is characterized by the uninterrupted growth of constant capital at the expense of variable capital, or to put this another way, by the increase in the importance of capital constituted by means of production and the decrease in the importance of capital which buys the form of labor. This economic process produces the familiar phenomena of elimination of the worker by the machine, of annihilation of the artisan workshop by the factory and of a decrease in the specific weight of the section of the class producing consumers’ goods relative to the other section which is engaged in the manufacture of means of production. Official economics thus characterizes this process: “The one certain fact—and it is a very important one—is that the economic evolution of the past hundred or hundred and fifty years has operated in the direction of the increase in relative importance of fixed capital and the decrease in relative importance of circulating capital.” [20] The more primitive man is the more important is the work which allows him to satisfy his immediate needs. But the more humanity progresses, the more it turns first towards the tool, and later towards the machine which enormously increases its productive power. First the tool is an appendage to man, then man becomes an appendage to the tool. This recollection of a rather well-known economic process serves but to underline its decisive importance in the specific situation of the Jewish working class and allows us to proceed immediately to our subject. The question which becomes posed immediately and which has not up to now received any attention is to find the historic cause or causes for this state of things. In the substantial study dedicated to Jewish economy at the beginning of the nineteenth century which was undertaken by Lestschinsky in his book The Development of the Jewish People in the Last 100 Years, he writes as follows on the professional composition of Jewish and non-Jewish artisans in this period: “The most superficial glance over this comparative statistical material is sufficient to note that those trades were in the hands of Jewish artisans which had the smallest chance of going over to factory production, whereas, precisely to the contrary, the professions most adapted to this transformation were widespread among non-Jewish artisans.

In Galicia, non-Jews constituted 99.6 percent of the metalworkers, 99.2 percent of the weavers, 98.2 percent of the blacksmiths, 98.1 percent of the spinners (whereas, in sharp contrast, 94.3 percent of the tailors and 70.0 percent of the furriers were Jews). These first four trades were the labor foundation on which the textile and metallurgical industries were later constructed. Without these trained workers which large-scale industry inherited from artisanry the birth of these industries would have been impossible ... It is in this historic fact that the fundamental cause may lie for the weak penetration of large-scale industry by the Jews. It was no more than natural that the first workers’ cadres in the metallurgical and textile plants should consist exclusively of non-Jews. And these compact masses of non-Jewish workers certainly had a natural attractive force for the non-Jewish populations which were closer to them from the religious, national, and psychological point of view, whereas, on the other hand, they repelled the Jewish mass which has remained foreign to them in every way up to this day.” [21] Lestschinsky’s explanation contributes to clarifying the problem with which we are engaged and shows us the first immediate cause for the specific professional structure of the Jewish working class. But in its turn, it places before us a new problem, or rather raises the old one to a new level. If we now clearly see the present Jewish worker as a descendant of the eighteenth century artisan, we must still find an explanation of the different professional composition of Jewish and non-Jewish artisans in that period. Why were the former primarily tailors and the non-Jewish artisans blacksmiths? Why were the latter to be found in trades linked with production, and the former confined to clothing, producing consequently for consumption? To pose the question in this way is practically to resolve it. Natural economy which ruled Eastern Europe in this period was characterized by the almost exclusive production of use values and implied an almost complete absence of the division of labor (into trades). Each family was self-sufficient or practically so, producing everything necessary for the satisfaction of its needs. Here is how Vandervelde describes this state of affairs: “Each family is sufficient to itself or practically so: it is lodged in a house made of timber coming from the nearest forest, and obtains straw and mortar right on the spot. It warms itself exclusively and primarily with turf, heather, furze, dead wood gathered in the vicinity. It spins, weaves, transforms flax and hemp of its own harvesting into clothes; it feeds itself with its own wheat, potatoes, vegetables ... it bakes its bread, makes its wine ... or beer, dries its own tobacco, exchanges its eggs and butter against rare goods which it secures from without: candles, oil, ironware, etc. In short, it produces almost everything which it consumes and consumes all that it produces, selling only what is strictly necessary to meet very limited money expenses.” [22] The same could be said, with very little correction, regarding the feudal manor. It is readily understandable that while such an economic system does not absolutely exclude professional specialization, the few trades that find a place within it are the products of quite exceptional conditions. “We should consider the labors of the blacksmith and the potter as the first which rose to special professions because they demanded from the very beginning more skill and more specialized working equipment. Even among nomad peoples, special artisans devoted themselves to the iron trade.” [23] It is therefore easy to understand that even in the era of natural economy, the trades of blacksmith and of weaver [24] were spread throughout the villages and abounded in the cities, which, in Eastern Europe, were almost exclusively military and administrative centers. “In Galicia, in Bucovina, in many parts of Hungary, Romania, and Transylvania, as among the Yugoslav peoples, there were up to recent times no artisans other than blacksmiths.” [25] Non-Jewish artisanry in Eastern Europe was therefore the product of special causes which, in a society based on natural and not exchange economy, nevertheless requires an exchange of services. Completely different was the point of departure of Jewish artisanry. It was born in the specific conditions of the small Jewish town and produced for that town. But whoever speaks of the small Jewish town of the eighteenth century speaks of an agglomeration of small traders, publicans, bankers, and intermediaries of all sorts. [26] The Jewish artisan therefore did not work for the peasant producers, but for the merchants, the banker intermediaries. It is here that we must seek the fundamental cause for the specific professional structure of the Jewish proletariat and of its ancestor, Jewish artisanry. The non-Jewish artisan did not produce articles of consumption for the peasant because, as we have seen, the latter was sufficient to himself in this regard. But that was precisely the principal occupation of the Jewish artisan, his clientele being composed of men devoted to trade in money and in goods, thus non-producers by definition. Alongside of the peasant, we find the non-Jewish blacksmith artisan; close to the money man, we find the Jewish tailor. [27] The professional difference existing between the Jewish and non-Jewish artisans therefore derives in the last analysis from the difference in their spheres of activity. It goes without saying that this explanation is necessarily schematic and like all schemas allows us to understand phenomena in their general aspect but cannot present the diversity of real life with complete exactness. But to try to reflect the latter with exactness and in detail would mean in turn to make it difficult to understand the general processes which derive from it. Sociology is therefore compelled to make a complete and continuous circuit: from reality to theoretical schema and the reverse. Those who reproach this method for not reflecting the entire diversity of life have not completely understood this dialectical interdependence. It should also be noted that the struggles which broke out in certain periods between Jewish and non-Jewish artisans appear to have been provoked by the encroachment of one section of artisans upon the sphere of activity of another and should not be attributed to some alleged national competition which was simply inconceivable in the feudal epoch because it is prior to the formation of nations.

“Nationality” is “a sentiment unknown to the heterogeneous society of the Middle Ages.” [28] By way of illustration, we quote this passage from an ancient chronicle of Prague, the Ramschackie Chronik of 1491: “Jews were forbidden to do work for Christians but they were all free to work for Jewish clients.” The city council of Prague also complains in the same period: “that the Jews pay no attention to the old privileges and ordinances whereby they are forbidden to work for Christians.” “At Posen,” states Graetz, “Jews were allowed to engage in certain trades, like that of tailoring, but only to satisfy their own needs and not for Christians.” It seems to me that we have thus traversed the causal chain leading from the present-day economic structure of the Jewish proletariat back to its origins. It is complete in this sense that it brings us back to the social problem of a more general order, which has already been explored: that of the social and economic function of the Jews in the precapitalist era. Notes 1. Friedrich von Furtenbach, Krieg gegen Russland und Russische Gefangenschaft (Leipzig 1912), pp. 101, 204. 2. Yivo Studies in History (Wilno, 1937), vol. 2, p. 521. 3. Quoted by W. Dubnow in On the Economic History of the Jews in Russia, Writings on Economics and Statistics (Yiddish). J. Lestschinsky ed. (Berlin 1928), vol. 1, p. 92 4. Quoted by Jacob Lestschinsky, The Development of the Jewish People in the Last One Hundred Years (Yiddish) (Berlin 1928), p. 55. 5. S.B. Weinryb, Neueste Wirtschaftsgeschichte der Juden in Russland und Polen (Breslau 1934), pp. 5-8. 6. Lestschinsky, op. cit., p. 25. 7. Ibid., p. 28. 8. Ibid., p. 29. 9. Ibid., p. 30. 10. Ibid., pp. 32-34. 11. Ibid., p. 1. 12. The struggle between “Haskalah” (the movement for emancipation) and orthodoxy between those who wanted to transform the economic life of Judaism as well as its cultural life as against the supporters of old traditions, is a reflection of the antagonism between the new Jewish bourgeoisie profiting from capitalist development and tending towards complete assimilation and the old feudal layers attached to their ancient mode of existence. This struggle continues throughout the entire course of the Nineteenth Century and ends in the defeat of the assimilationists. This defeat is due not so much to the solidity of the old economic forms as to the fragility of the new ones. 13. This process is analyzed later in the chapter. 14. Marx, Capital, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 308. 15.

15. Ibid., vol. 2, p. 309. 16. The long persistence of the system of home industry has its basis in the slightness of the fixed capital which it requires. See Weber, op. cit., p. 160. 17. Marx, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 308. 18. “In the nineteenth century the increase in the Jewish population in the cities of Poland was greater than that of the non-Jewish population. Towards the end of the last century in the period when large-scale industry was created and when great masses of non-Jewish workers migrated to the cities, the rhythm of Jewish population increase slowed down and in places the movement came to a complete halt.” Congrès Juif Mondial, Départment Économique, La Situation Économique des Juifs dans le Monde (Paris 1938), pp. 215–16. 19. A similar phenomenon can also be seen in the rural sphere. “In those districts where agricultural capitalism is developed most, this process of introducing wage labour, simultaneously with the introduction of machinery, cuts across another process, namely the wage workers are squeezed out by the machine.” Lenin, The Development of Capitalism in Russia, in Selected Works vol. 1, p. 275. 20. Ansiaux, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 137. 21. Lestschinsky, op. cit., p. 60. 22. Émile Vandervelde, L’Exode Rural et le Retour aux Champs (Paris 1903), p. 70. 23. A. Menes, Craft Industry among the Jews in Biblical and Talmudic Times, Writings on Economics and Statistics (Yiddish), J. Lestschinsky, editor (Berlin 1928), vol. 1, p. 65. 24. The trade of weaver, like that of blacksmith, demanded a special professional formation and early became separated from rhe household economy. The weaver in the feudal era is a traveler who moves from one place to another, from one village to another, in pursuing his trade. 25. Ansiaux, op. cit. 26. All the Jews did not live in small towns, far from it, but their social role in the large cities or in the village was the same as in the small town. The latter, however, by its specific aspect, best characterized this social role. According to a governmental census in 1818, in the Ukraine and Byelorussia: 86.5 percent of the Jews were traders; 11.6 percent of the Jews were artisans; 1.9 percent of the Jews were farmers. In Galicia, in 1820, 81 percent of the traders were Jews.

In Galicia, in 1820, 81 percent of the traders were Jews. 27. Certain crafts, close to trade, were also often exercised by Jews. Such was the goldsmith’s craft. 28. Pirenne, Belgian Democracy, op. cit., p. 143. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 19 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question SIX Contradictory trends in the Jewish problem during the period of the rise of capitalism The French Revolution put the finishing touches to the course of the economic and social evolution of Judaism in Western Europe. The development of industrial capitalism will speed up the penetration of the Jews into the ranks of the bourgeoisie and their cultural assimilation. The triumphant march of the Napoleonic armies was the signal for Jewish emancipation everywhere. Napoleonic policy reflected the will of bourgeois society to assimilate the Jews completely. But in the regions still ruled by the feudal system, important difficulties surged across the road to emancipation. Thus, contrary to the Jews of Bordeaux, completely absorbed into the bourgeois class, the Alsatian Jews were little differentiated from their ancestors of the Middle Ages. The peasant riots against Jewish usury compelled Napoleon to promulgate exceptional laws against Alsatian Judaism. Bourgeois juridical norms proved inapplicable to a feudal state of society. The same was true of Poland where formal legality for all citizens before the law introduced by Napoleon was not applicable to Jews “for a period of ten years”—as the face-saving formula put it. It is necessary to add that the great mass of Polish Jews, led by fanatical rabbis, was resolutely opposed to emancipation. Except for a small layer of wealthy bourgeois, the Polish Jews in no way felt the need for civil equality. But in general, from the beginning of the nineteenth century, Western Judaism enters on the road of complete assimilation. By the end of the eighteenth century, one half of the Jews of Berlin had become converted to Christianity in a period of thirty years. Those who remained faithful to the Jewish religion vigorously denied that they formed a distinct nation. “Without a land, without a state, without a language, there can be no nation, and that is why Judaism long ago ceased to constitute a nation,” said Riesser, one of the representatives of the German Jews in the first half of the nineteenth century. [1] “We are Germans, and Germans only, in whatever concerns nationality,” a Jewish professor of Berlin wrote somewhat later, in 1879. Contrary to Western Europe, where their assimilation was favored by capitalism, in Eastern Europe capitalism uprooted the Jews from their secular economic positions. Thus, by provoking a flow of Jews towards the West with its left hand, it was destroying the accomplishments of its right hand. Waves of Eastern Jews continuously flowed towards the Western countries and instilled new life into the moribund body of Judaism. [2] “Our great popular masses of the East, who are still rooted in Jewish tradition, or at least live in its atmosphere, form a barrier to the disappearance of Western Judaism .... Western Judaism no longer exists save as a reflection of Eastern Judaism.” [3] In order to understand the importance of the immigration of Jews from Eastern Europe, it is sufficient to recall that in Vienna, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, there were only several hundred Jews, and that in the twentieth century, their number reached 176,000. The massive emigration of Jews to Western Europe and mainly to America went hand in hand with a complete transformation of the territorial structure of Judaism. We know that the advance of capitalism was accompanied by an enormous extension of urban developments. From the middle of the nineteenth century on, the great centers of commercial and industrial life became a powerful attractive pole for the Jews. The concentration of the Jewish masses in great cities was as obvious in the countries of immigration as in the regions from which the Jews originated. The Jews en masse forsook the little towns which had for centuries been the centers of their economic life and flowed either into the commercial and industrial cities of Poland and Russia, or towards the great cities of the Western world—Vienna, London, Berlin, Paris, and New York. “Far into the nineteenth century the greater part of world Jewry inhabited Eastern Europe, where in the absence of good means of communication small towns continued to offer opportunities to traders [and] during that period the Jews lived predominantly in small towns ... According to a statistical survey of the Polish provinces of Kiev, Volhynia, and Podolia, made in the second half of the eighteenth century, there were in every village, on the average, seven Jewish inhabitants, i.e., one Jewish family. But there were innumerable villages and very few towns; in East Galicia, therefore, 27.0 percent of the Jewish population lived in villages, and in West Galicia, even 43.1 percent ... Similar conditions prevailed in a few German states, for instance, in Hesse and Baden.” [4] This condition underwent a decisive change in the twentieth century. Substantial Jewish masses became concentrated in the urban centers of the world. In Russia, between 1847 and 1926, the Jewish population in communities numbering more than ten thousand multiplied eightfold. In 1847, there were only three Jewish communities comprising more than ten thousand people in the entire Russian empire. There were twenty-eight of these in 1897 and thirty-eight in 1926 (in the old territory of Holy Russia). The percentage of Russian Jews living in large communities was: 1847 5.0% 1897 28.2% 1926 50.2% Here are the corresponding figures for Germany: 1850 6.0% 1880 32.0% 1900 61.3% More than three-quarters of American Jews are presently living in communities of more than 10,000 persons. The tremendous Jewish agglomerations of New York (2,000,000), Warsaw (300,000 to 500,000), Paris, London, etc., bear witness to the fact that the Jews have become the “greatest urban people in the world.” The concentration of the Jewish masses in the great cities undoubtedly constitutes one of the most important phenomena of Jewish life in the modern capitalist epoch. We have already examined the difference between Jewish emigration up to 1880 and the exodus after that date.

Up to 1880, the states inhabited by the Jews still offered vast possibilities for penetration into capitalist economy; migration was primarily internal. After this date, events are precipitous: feudal economy is smashed to bits and with it goes the ruin of the artisan branches of capitalism in which the Jews are very widely represented. The Jews begin to forsake their countries of origin in great masses. “Between 1800 and 1880 the number of Jews in the United States, the main destination of Jewish emigrants, rose from a few thousands to 230,000—which points to an average yearly immigration of about 2,000; between 1881 and 1899, the yearly average reached 30,000 and between 1900 and 1914, 100,000. Adding the emigration to other overseas countries (Canada, the Argentine, South Africa, Palestine, etc.) and to Central and Western Europe, the total Jewish emigration from Eastern Europe during the years 1800 to 1880 must be put at about 250,000, i.e. a yearly average of about 3,000; for 1881–99, at 1,000,000 and a yearly average of about 50,000; and for 1900–1914 at 2,000,000, and an average of 135,000. Percentually these figures place the East European Jews first among emigrant nations; about the middle of the period 1881–1914, their number in Russia, Galicia, and Romania amounted to about 6.5 million, and measured by that figure, the emigrants formed about 46 percent. The corresponding Italian rate, which is otherwise the highest in Europe, was only 15 percent after the re-emigrants have been deducted—these were numerous among the Italians, but very few among the Jews.” [5] This great emigration was favored by the high birthrate of the Jews. Their number in the world rose as follows: 1825 3,281,000 1900 10,602,500 1850 4,764,500 1925 14,800,500 1880 7,663,000 Between 1825 and 1925, the number of Jews multiplied five times, a rate of increase one and a half times larger than that of the population of Europe. “The number of Jews must certainly exceed 18 million at the present time. It is important to note that despite the high emigration figures, not only has the number of Jews in Eastern Europe not decreased but it has even greatly increased.” “Judaism in Eastern Europe sent abroad almost four million persons in the course of the last thirty-five years and yet not only has the number of Jews in Eastern Europe not diminished during this period but it has greatly increased; it has gone from less than six to eight millions.” [6] Emigration contributed to the social differentiation of Judaism, a process which had made rapid progress in the course of the nineteenth century. At least 90 percent of the Jews were agents and merchants at the beginning of the capitalist era. In the twentieth century we can consider that in America we have almost two million Jewish proletarians, who are almost 40 percent of all the economically active Jews. [7] Here is the professional division for all Jews in 1932: TRADE (INCLUDING TRANSPORTATION,AMUSEMENT, BANKING) 6,100,000 (38.6%) INDUSTRY (INCLUDINGMINING AND ARTISANRY) 5,750,000 (36.4%) LIBERAL PROFESSIONS AND ADMINISTRATION 1,000,000 (6.3%) AGRICULTURE 625,000 (4.0%) PART-TIME WORKERS AND DOMESTICS 325,000 (2.0%) NO TRADE (LIVING FROM INCOMES,PENSIONS, OR CHARITY) 2,000,000 (12.7%) TOTAL 15,800,000 The number of Jewish workers, relatively low in the backward countries like Poland where it reaches about 25 percent of all persons economically active, reaches 46 percent in America. The professional structure of the Jewish working class still differs greatly from that of the proletariat of other peoples. Thus white collar workers form 30 to 36 percent of all Jewish wage earners, which is a proportion three to four times as great as among other nations. Agricultural workers, practically completely missing among the Jews, constitute from 15 to 25 percent of non-Jewish workers. Sixty to 70 percent of the Jews employed in industry are in reality worker-artisans (in Eastern Europe 80 percent of the proletarians work in shops and not in factories) whereas among the workers of other nationalities, 75 to 80 percent are factory workers. Finally, the Jewish workers are employed primarily in branches of consumer goods; non-Jewish workers in the same branches form only a small percentage of the proletariat as a whole. Comparative statistics of the professional division of Jewish and “Aryan” workers will permit of an easier grasp of this phenomenon. IN SEVERAL EUROPEAN COUNTRIES JEWS NON-JEWS Clothing 43.7 8.5 Food 11.0 9.5 Leather 10.5 1.7 Metallurgy 8.6 19.9 Lumber 7.9 6.9 Textiles 6.8 12.0 Building 4.2 15.2 Printing and paper 3.2 3.2 Others 3.8 22.1 IN POLAND (1931) [8] JEWISHWORKERS NON-JEWISHWORKERS Artisanry 58.7 33.2 Business and transportation 18.7 12.5 Homework 9.2 1.9 Small industry 8.9 9.6 Medium and large industry 3.8 23.0 Mines 0.4 8.4 Electricity, water, railroads 0.3 8.9 Foundries 2.5 These statistics clearly show that the Jews are employed primarily in artisanry whereas non-Jewish workers, on the contrary are concentrated mainly in heavy industry.

Jews are relatively five times more numerous than non-Jewish workers in the clothing industry but in metallurgy, the textile industry, and building, non-Jewish workers are two or three times more numerous than Jewish workers. However, while the professional structure of the Jewish working class still differs greatly from that of the non-Jewish, poverty is driving them more and more to the penetration, despite all barriers, into professions which have been inaccessible to them up to now. Some twenty years ago, when a great industrialist of Lodz was asked about the ban against Jewish workers in his factories, he replied: “I do not want to have two thousand partners in my business.” But prior to this war [World War II], 15 percent of Jewish workers were operating machines. Judaism has therefore undergone a very important transformation in the capitalist epoch. The people-class has become differentiated socially. But this process, while of considerable scope, is accompanied by a multitude of contradictory tendencies, which have not as yet allowed the crystallization of a stable form for Judaism in our period. It is far easier to say what Judaism has been than to define what it is. In effect, the evolution of the Jewish question resulting from capitalist development has been thrust onto diametrically opposite paths. On the one hand, capitalism favored the economic assimilation of Judaism and consequently its cultural assimilation; on the other hand, by uprooting the Jewish masses, concentrating them in cities, provoking the rise of anti-Semitism, it stimulated the development of Jewish nationalism. The “renaissance of the Jewish nation,” the formation of a modern Jewish culture, elaboration of the Yiddish language, Zionism, all these accompany the processes of emigration and of the concentration of Jewish masses in the cities and go hand in hand with the development of modern anti-Semitism. In all parts of the world, along all the roads of exile, the Jewish masses, concentrated in special quarters, created their own special cultural centers, their newspapers, their Yiddish schools. Naturally it was in the countries of greatest Jewish concentration, in Russia, Poland, and the United States, that the national movement took on its greatest scope. But the development of history is dialectical. At the same time that the bases for a new Jewish nationality were being elaborated, all the conditions were likewise being created for its disappearance. Whereas the first Jewish generations in the countries of immigration still remained firmly attached to Judaism, the new generations rapidly lost their special customs and language. “Among the East European immigrants to Western Europe, America, and other non-European countries, Yiddish is still retained, at any rate in the first generation, though a large number of English words are introduced, so that it is growing into a dialect different from the Polish or Lithuanian Yiddish. The second generation speak both Yiddish and the language of the country, while the third no longer know Yiddish ...” [9] “The Yiddish press in the United States developed strongly during the last fifty years because of the coming in of more than two million East European Jews who knew no English. ... But of recent years, a marked decline has set in of the Yiddish press, immigration having stopped, while the younger generation is becoming Americanized.” [10] In 1920, according to official statistics, Yiddish was the mother tongue of 32.1 percent of American Jews; in 1930, of 27.8 percent. In Hungary, Yiddish disappeared almost completely. In the census of 1920, 95.2 percent declared Hungarian as their mother tongue, 4.0 percent German, and 0.8 percent other languages. Throughout the world: in 1900, 60.6 percent of the Jews spoke Yiddish; in 1930, 42.7 percent of the Jews spoke Yiddish. During this same period that the use of Yiddish is declining, we witness a considerable growth in mixed marriages. The more highly developed the country, the more frequent are its mixed marriages. In Bohemia, 44.7 percent of all marriages in which at least one party was Jewish were mixed marriages. As against this, the number of mixed marriages in sub-Carpathian Russia and Slovakia was insignificant. [11] Ratio of mixed marriages between Jews and non-Jewsto purely Jewish marriages [12] BERLIN 1901–4 35.4% 1905 44.4% HAMBURG 1903–5 49.5% TRIESTE 1900–1903 61.5% COPENHAGEN 1880–89 55.8% 1890–99 68.7% 1900–1905 82.9% An increase in conversions is also noted. Thus in Vienna, the average of Jewish conversions went from 0.4 percent in 1870 to 4.4 percent in 1916–20. However, the general weakening of religion removes most of the importance from this index. We thus see how precarious are the bases for the “national renaissance” of Judaism. emigration, at first a powerful obstacle to assimilation and a “nationalization” factor of the Jews, rapidly changes into an instrument of fusion of the Jews with other peoples. The concentration of Jewish masses in the great cities, which thus became a sort of “territorial base” for the Jewish nationality, cannot long impede the process of assimilation. The atmosphere of the great urban centers constitutes a melting pot in which all national differences are rapidly wiped out. While capitalism first created conditions for a certain Jewish “national renaissance,” by uprooting millions of Jews, by tearing them from their traditional living conditions and concentrating them in large cities, it soon contributes to accelerating the process of assimilation. The development of Yiddish, for example, is followed by its rapid decline. Capitalist development, although at times in rather unexpected ways, ends with the fusion of the Jews among other peoples. But at the beginning of the twentieth century the signs of capitalist degeneration become manifest.

The Jewish question, which seems to be developing normally in the nineteenth century rebounds with unprecedented sharpness as a result of the decline of capitalism. The solution of the Jewish question appears to be farther off than ever. Notes 1. S.M. Dubnow, Die Neueste Geschichte des Jüdischen Volkes (Berlin, 1920–24), vol. 2, p. 42. 2. “The flow of Eastern Jews into Western Europe stopped and probably saved the Western Jews from the complete disappearance which was inevitable.” Lestschinsky, op. cit., p. 9. “Without immigration from Eastern Europe, the small Jewish communites of England, France and Belgium would probably have lost entirely their Jewish character. Also German Jewry ...” Ruppin, op. cit., p. 63 3. Jacob Klatzkin, Probleme des Modernen Judentum (Berlin 1918), p. 46. 4. Ruppin, op. cit., pp. 31–33. 5. Ibid., p. 45. 6. Yiddishe Economic (Wilno, January–February 1938), p. 11. 7. The percentage of employees and workers was: ENGLAND 77.0% (1923) FRANCE 48.0% (1906) U.S.A. 75.0% (1920) POLAND 24.8% (1921) BELGIUM 73.0% (1910) RUSSIA 15.0% (1925) GERMANY 62.0% (1907) Jews 35.8% 8. Yiddishe Economic (July–August 1938), p. 317. 9. Ruppin, op. cit., pp. 289–90. 10. Ibid., p. 351. 11. Yiddishe Economic (April–June, 1939), p. 176. 12.

12. Based on Ruppin, op. cit.. Leon’s operation on Ruppin’s statistics here appears to be incorrect. We therefore append an abstract of Ruppin’s table (pp. 319–20). Despite the differences, these confirm Leon’s contention. – Tr. City Year or Period To every 100 Jews enteringmarriage, mixed marriageswere contracted by BERLIN 1901–4 15.06 1929 29.21 HAMBURG 1906–10 24.30 1928 3.83 TRIESTE 1900–1903 17.90 1927 56.10 COPENHAGEN 1880–89 21.84 1900–1905 31.76 Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 19 August 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question THREE The period of the Jewish usurer Up to the eleventh century, the economic regime reigning in Western Europe is characterized by the absence of commodity production. The few cities which survived from the Roman era primarily fulfill administrative and military functions. All production is destined solely for local consumption and the seignorial domains, being sufficient to themselves, enter into contact with the wide world solely through Jewish merchants who brave its strange places. [1] The commercial role played by Europeans could only be passive in character. But with time and with the continuous growth in the importation of Oriental goods, there is an incentive to produce directly for exchange. The development of trade thus stimulates native production. The production of use values progressively gives way to the production of exchange values. Not all native products are desired by the Orient. The production of exchange values first develops in those places where a set of conditions exists for the manufacture or extraction of certain goods especially prized abroad: monopoly products. Such were the woolens of England, the cloths of Flanders, the salt of Venice, copper from Dinant, etc. In these favored places, rapidly develop those “specialized industries, the products of which were at once beyond their place of origin.” [2] Trade advances from the passive to the active stage and Florentine fabrics leave to conquer the wide world. As they are much sought after, these products are at the same time the source of enormous profits. This rapid accumulation of wealth is the basis for an accelerated development of a native merchant class. Thus, “salt became a potent weapon in the hands of the Venetians for attaining wealth and for holding peoples in subjection. From the very beginning, these islanders had made a salt in their lagoons which was much sought after by all the peoples situated on the Adriatic and which brought Venice trading privileges, concessions, and advantageous treaties.” [3] So long as Europe lived under a regime of natural economy, the initiative in commercial traffic belonged to merchants from the Orient, principally the Jews. Only some peddlers, some lowly suppliers to the chateaux of the nobles and the clergy, succeed in freeing themselves from the humble mass of serfs bound to the soil. But the development of native production makes possible the rapid formation of a powerful class of native merchants. Emerging from the artisans, they gain control over them by taking over the distribution of raw materials. [4] Contrary to trade as conducted by the Jews, which is clearly separate from production, native trade is essentially based on industry. Everywhere industrial development marches hand in hand with expansion of trade. “Venice had the advantage of being simultaneously one of the greatest commercial cities of the world and one of the most industrial. Its fabrics were of immense service to its traders in their relations with the Orient .... Venice and its neighboring cities were full of all kinds of fabrics.” [5] “In Italy, as in Flanders, the maritime commerce, and the inland commerce which was its continuation, resulted in the activity of the seaports: Venice, Pisa, and Genoa in the South; Bruges in the North. Then, behind the seaports, the industrial cities developed: on the one hand, the Lombard communes and Florence; on the other, Ghent, Ypres and Lille, Douai, and further inland, Valenciennes, and Brussels.” [6] The woolen industry became the basis of the greatness and prosperity of the medieval cities. Cloths and fabrics constituted the most important goods in the fairs of the Middle Ages. [7] In that is to be seen the profound difference between medieval capitalism and modern capitalism: the latter is based on a tremendous revolution in the means of production; the former reposed solely on the development of the production of exchange values. The evolution in exchange of medieval economy proved fatal to the position of the Jews in trade. The Jewish merchant importing spices into Europe and exporting slaves, is displaced by respectable Christian traders to whom urban industry supplies the principal products for their trading. This native commercial class collides violently with the Jews, occupants of an outmoded economic position, inherited from a previous period in historical evolution. The growing contradiction between “Christian” and Jewish trade therefore leads to the opposition of two regimes: that of exchange economy as against natural economy. It was consequently the economic development of the West which destroyed the commercial function of the Jews, based on a backward state of production. [8] The commercial monopoly of the Jews declined in the degree that the peoples, whose exploitation had fed it, developed. “For a number of centuries the Jews remained the commercial guardians of the young nations, to the advantage of the latter and not without open recognition of this advantage. But every tutelage becomes burdensome when it continues longer than the dependence of the ward. Entire nations emancipate themselves from the tutelage of other nations, even as individuals used to, only by means of struggle.” [9] With the development of exchange economy in Europe, the growth of cities and of corporative industry; the Jews are progressively eliminated from the economic positions which they had occupied. [10] This eviction is accompanied by a ferocious struggle of the native commercial class against the Jews. The Crusades, which were also an expression of the will of the city merchants to carve a road to the Orient, furnished them with the occasion for violent persecutions and bloody massacres of the Jews. From this period on, the situation of the Jews in the cities of Western Europe is definitely compromised. In the beginning, the economic transformation reaches only certain important urban centers. The seignorial domains are very little affected by this change and the feudal system continues to flourish there. Consequently, the career of Jewish wealth is still not ended. The seignorial domains still offer an important field of action to the Jews. But now Jewish capital, primarily commercial in the preceding period, becomes almost exclusively usurious. It is no longer the Jew who supplies the lord with Oriental goods but for a certain time it is still he who lends him money for his expenses. If during the preceding period “Jew” was synonymous with “merchant,” it now begins increasingly to be identified with “usurer.” [11] It is self-evident that to claim, as do most historians, that the Jews began to engage in lending only after their elimination from trade, is a vulgar error.

Usurious capital is the brother of commercial capital. In the countries of Eastern Europe, where the Jews were not evicted from commerce, we encounter, as we shall see later, a considerable number of Jewish usurers. [12] In reality, the eviction of the Jews from commerce had as a consequence their entrenchment in one of the professions which they had already practiced previously. The fact that Jews at different periods may have held landed property cannot serve as a serious argument in favor of the traditional thesis of Jewish historians. Far from constituting a proof of the multiplicity of the occupations of the Jews, Jewish property must be considered as the fruit of their usurious and commercial operations. [13] In the business books of the French Jew Heliot of Franche-Comté, who lived at the beginning of the fourteenth century, we find vineyards mentioned among his properties. But what clearly emerges from these books is that these vineyards did not constitute the basis of an agricultural profession for Heliot but were the product of his mercantile operations. When in 1360, the king of France had again invited the Jews into his territory, the representative of the Jews, a certain Manasé, raised the problem of royal protection for the vineyards and cattle which would pass into the hands of the Jews as unredeemed securities. In Spain, in the time of great theological disputes between Jews and Christians, the latter blamed the Jews for having become wealthy as a result of their “usurious” operations. “They have taken possession of fields and of cattle .... They own three-fourths of the fields and lands of Spain.” [14] The passage of property of the nobility into the hands of the Jews was a common phenomenon in this epoch. Such was the village of Strizov, in Bohemia, which had belonged to two nobles and was assigned in payment of debts to the Jews Fater and Merklin (1382). The village Zlamany Ujezd, in Moravia, was allotted to the Jew Axon de Hradic; the village Neverovo, in Lithuania, was assigned to the Jew Levon Salomic, etc. So long as the landed property of the Jews constituted solely an object of speculation for them, it could only have an extremely precarious character because the feudal class very early succeeded in imposing a ban upon mortgaging real properties with the Jews. It was altogether different wherever a genuine economic and social mutation took place: in those places where the Jews abandoned business in order to become real landowners. Sooner or later, they necessarily also changed their religion. At the beginning of the fifteenth century, a Jew named Woltschko, having become the proprietor of several villages, the king of Poland exerted every effort to lead him to “acknowledge his blindness and to enter the holy Christian religion.” This fact is significant, for the kings of Poland carefully protected the Jewish religion. They would never have thought of converting Jewish merchants or bankers to Christianity. But a Jewish landowner in the Middle Ages could only be an anomaly. This is equally true as regards the Christian usurer. This problem naturally has nothing in common with the banalities on racial peculiarities. Clearly it is foolish to claim, with Sombart, that usury constitutes a specific trait of the “Jewish race.” Usury, which as we have seen plays an important role in precapitalist societies, is almost as old as humanity and has been practiced by all races and nations. It is enough to recall the leading role played by usury in Greek and Roman societies. [15] But to pose the question in this way means to invert the conditions of the problem. It is not by the “innate” capacities or the ideology of a social group that we must explain its economic position. On the contrary, it is its economic position which explains its capacities and its ideology. Medieval society is not divided into lords and serf because each of these groups originally possessed specific qualifications for the economic role which it was to play. The ideology and capacities of each class formed gradually as a function of its economic position. The same is true of the Jews. It is not their “innate” predisposition for commerce which explains their economic position but it is their economic position which explains their predisposition to commerce. The Jews moreover constitute a very heterogeneous racial conglomeration. In the course of their history, they have absorbed a multitude of non-Semitic ethnic elements. In England, the “monopoly of usury brought them such wealth that some Christians undoubtedly went over to Judaism in order to participate in the Jewish monopoly in lending.” [16] Judaism therefore consists rather of the result of a social selection and not of a “race having innate predispositions for commerce.” But the primacy of the economic and social factor does not exclude—far from it—the influence of the psychological factor. As it is infantile to see the economic position of Judaism as the result of the “predispositions of the Jews,” just so it is puerile to consider it as the fruit of persecutions and of legal bans against exercising other professions than commerce or usury. “In numerous writings on the economic life of the Jews in the Middle Ages, it is stated that they were excluded, from the very beginning, from artisanry; from traffic in goods, and that they were prohibited from possessing land property. That is only a fable. In fact, in the twelfth century and in the thirteenth century, living in practically all of the great cities of Western Germany, they dwelt among the Christians and enjoyed the same civil rights as the latter ... At Cologne, during an entire period, the Jews even possessed the right to compel a Christian, who had a claim to make against a Jew, to appear before Jewish judges in order to have the matter adjudged according to Hebraic law .... It is just as false to assert that the Jews could not be admitted into the artisan guilds. True, several guilds did not admit what were termed ‘Jewish children’ as apprentices but this was not the case for all the guilds. The existence of Jewish goldsmiths and silversmiths, even in the period when the guild rules become far more severe, is sufficient proof of this. There were certainly few Jewish blacksmiths, masons, and carpenters among the artisans of the Middle Ages, but Jewish parents who gave their children into apprenticeship in these trades were very rare.

Even the guilds which excluded the Jews did not do so out of religious animosity or racial hatred but because the trades of usury and peddling were reputedly ‘dishonest’ ... The guilds excluded the children of Jewish businesspeople engaged in usury or peddling, in the same way that they did not accept the sons of simple laborers, carters and boatsmen, barbers, and weavers of linen into their ranks.” [17] Feudal society was essentially a caste society. It desired that everyone “should remain in his place.” [18] It fought usury by Christians just as it made it impossible for the bourgeois to attain nobility; and just as it disdained the noble who lowered himself to the practice of a trade or to engaging in business. In 1462 the doctor Han Winter was driven from the city of Nordlingen because he practiced usury through the intermediary of a Jew. Thirty years later, in the same city, a bourgeois named Kinkel was placed in the pillory and driven from the city for having practiced the “Jewish profession.” The synod of Bamberg, in 1491, threatened to drive every Christian practicing usury, either by himself or through the intermediary of Jews, out of the Christian community. In 1487, in Silesia, it was decreed that every Christian practicing usury would be placed in the hands of the royal tribunal and punished in exemplary fashion. So long as the feudal structure remains solid, the attitude of Christian society toward loans at interest does not change. But the deep-seated economic mutations which we have examined previously transform the conditions of the problem. Industrial and commercial development elevate banking to an indispensable role in economy. The banker advancing funds to the merchant or the artisan becomes an essential element in economic development. The treasury of the usurer, in the feudal era, fulfills the role of a necessary but absolutely unproductive reserve. “The most characteristic forms, in which usurers’ capital exists in time antedating capitalist production, are two ... The same forms repeat themselves on the basis of capitalist production, but as mere subordinate forms. They are then no longer the forms which determine the character of interest-bearing capital. These two forms are: First, usury by lending money to extravagant persons of the higher classes, particularly to landowners; secondly, usury by lending money to the small producer who is in possession of his own means of employment, which includes the artisan, but more particularly the peasant, since under precapitalist conditions, so far as they permit of independent individual producers, the peasant class must form the overwhelming majority.” [19] The usurer makes loans to the feudal lords and to the kings for their luxuries and their war expenditures. He lends to the peasants and the artisans in order to allow them to pay their taxes, rents, etc. ... The money loaned by the usurer does not create surplus value; it merely allows him to take possession of a portion of the surplus product which already exists. The function of the banker is altogether different. He contributes directly to the production of surplus value. He is productive. The banker finances great commercial and industrial ventures. Whereas credit is essentially consumer credit in the feudal era, it becomes credit of production and of circulation in the era of commercial and industrial development. There is consequently a fundamental difference between the usurer and the banker. The first is the credit organ in the feudal era, whereas the second is the credit organ in the era of exchange economy. Ignoring this fundamental distinction leads almost all historians into error. They see no difference between the banker of antiquity; the Jewish banker of England of the eleventh century and Rothschild or even Fugger. “Newman ... says that the banker is respected while the usurer is hated and despised, because the banker lends to the rich, whereas the usurer lends to the poor (J.W. Newman, Lectures on Political Economy, London, 1851, p. 44). He overlooks the fact that the difference of two modes of production and the corresponding social orders intervenes here, and the latter is not exhausted by the distinction between rich and poor.” [20] Of course this distinction becomes really obvious in the capitalist epoch properly so-called. But “the money-lender stands in the same relation to him [the merchant] in the former stages of society as he does the modern capitalist. This specific relation was felt also by the Catholic universities. ‘The universities of Alcala, of Salamanca, of Ingolstadt, of Freiburg in the Breisgau, Mayence, Cologne, Treves one after another recognized the legality of interest on money for commercial loans.’ ” [21] In the measure that economic development continues, the bank conquers ever more solid positions while the Jewish usurer increasingly loses ground. He is no longer to be found in the prosperous commercial cities of Flanders because the Jews, “unlike the Lombards, only practiced placement at interest and did not play the role of intermediaries in commercial operations.” [22] After their elimination from commerce, a process which is accomplished in Western Europe in the thirteenth century the Jews continue to develop the business of usury in regions not yet reached by exchange economy. In England, in the period of King Henry II (second half of the twelfth century) they are already involved up to the hilt in usury. They are generally very rich and their clientele is composed of the great landed proprietors. The most famous of these Jewish bankers was a certain Aaron of Lincoln, very active at the end of the twelfth century. King Henry II alone owed him one hundred thousand pounds, a sum equal to the annual budget of the Kingdom of England at this time. Thanks to the extremely high rate of interest – it fluctuated between 43 and 86 percent – a large number of estates of the nobility had passed into the hands of the Jewish usurers. But they had powerful associates and – exacting ones. If the kings of England supported the business of the Jews, it was because it constituted a very important source of revenue for them.

All loans made with the Jews were registered in the Scaccarium Judaeorum [Exchequer of the Jews] and were assessed a tax of 10 percent in behalf of the royal treasury. But this legal contribution was far from sufficient for the kings. Any pretext was good enough for despoiling the Jews and the income from their usury continually contributed to enlarging the royal treasury. It was particularly bad for the Jews to have the kings as important debtors. The rich banker Aaron of Lincoln found this out in 1187 when the King of England confiscated his property. The dispossessed nobility would avenge itself by organizing massacres of the Jews. In 1189, the Jews were massacred in London, Lincoln, and Stafford. A year later, the nobility, led by a certain Malebys, destroyed the Scaccarium Judaeorum of York. The notes were solemnly burned. The Jews, besieged in the chateau, committed suicide. But the king continued to protect the Jews even after their death .... He demanded payment to himself of the sums due the Jews, by virtue of the fact that the Jews were the “slaves of his treasury.” Special employees were ordered by him to make an exact list of all the debts. At the beginning of the thirteenth century the king granted a “Magna Carta” to the nobility which brought certain improvements in the sphere of loans. Nevertheless, in 1262 and in 1264, new disturbances broke out against the Jews. In 1290, the entire Jewish population of England, that is to say almost three thousand people, was expelled and its property confiscated. The economic situation of the Jews of France, far more numerous than the English (one hundred thousand), was not perceptibly different from that of the English Jews. “With the accession of Philip Augustus (1180) and in the first years of his reign, the Hebrews were rich and numerous in France. Learned rabbis had been attracted to the synagogue of Paris, which, on the solemn entry of Pope Innocent at St. Denis in 1135 had already figured among the corporations of the capital at the time of the passage of the Pontiff. According to the historian Rigord, they had acquired almost half of Paris. “... Their credits were spread throughout villages, cities, and suburbs, everywhere. A great number of Christians had even been expropriated by the Jews because of debts.” [23] It is mainly in Northern France that the Jews were engaged in usury. In Provence during the thirteenth century, Jewish participation in trade was still very important. The Jews of Marseilles were in regular business relations with Spain, North Africa, Sicily, and Palestine. They even owned ships, and like their ancestors of the Carolingian epoch, they imported spices, slaves, etc. But these are only vestiges from a previous period. Usury appears to constitute the principal economic function of the Jews of France in the thirteenth century. A notary was appointed in each city for dealings in loans. The interest rate rose to 43 percent. Up to the statute of Melun (1230), which prohibited the Jews from making loans on real property, the principal clients of the Jewish bankers were the princes and lords. At the beginning of the twelfth century, the Jew Salomon of Dijon was the creditor of the greatest cloisters of France. The Count of Montpellier owed a Jew by the name of Bendet the sum of fifty thousand sous. Pope Innocent III, in a letter to the king of France, expresses indignation at the fact that the Jews are taking possession of church property, that they are seizing lands, vineyards, etc. While the economic position of the Jews of France is similar to that of the English Jews, their political situation is different. Power, which was far more divided, placed them in the hands of a multitude of princes and lords. The Jews were subjected to a host of levies and taxes which enriched the powerful. Various means were utilized in order to extract the maximum of money from the Jews. Mass arrests, ritual trials, expulsions, all of these were used as pretexts for enormous financial extortions. The kings of France expelled and admitted the Jews a number of times in order to seize their property. The social and economic position of the Jews in Moslem Spain is not known with accuracy. There is, however, not the shadow of a doubt that they belonged to the privileged classes of the population. “Arriving in Granada,” writes a certain Isak de Alvira, “I saw that the Jews here occupy leading positions. They have divided up the capital and the province. These accursed ones are everywhere at the head of the administration. They are engaged in the collection of taxes and live in luxury while you, Moslems, are clad in rags.” In Christian Spain, in Castile, the Jews are bankers, tax farmers, quartermasters to the king. Royalty protects them as its economic and political supporters. The interest rate, lower than in other countries, is 33.3 percent at the beginning of the twelfth century. In a great many cortes the nobility has struggled for a reduction in the rate of interest but has always met with the resistance of the kings. It was solely in the reign of Alphonse IX that the nobility achieved some concrete results in this sphere. A similar situation arose in Aragon. Jehuda de Cavallera is a characteristic example of a great Jewish “capitalist” of the thirteenth century. He leased salt mines, coined money, supplied the army and possessed great estates and great herds of cattle. It was his fortune that made possible the construction of a battle fleet for the war against the Arabs. The economic backwardness of Spain made it possible for the Jews to preserve their commercial positions longer than in England or in France. Documents of the twelfth century mention Jews of Barcelona who made voyages as far as the Bosphorus. In 1105, Count Bernard III granted a monopoly in the importation of Sicilian slaves to three Jews, merchants and proprietors of ships at Barcelona. We must await the fourteenth century, when Barcelona, according to Pirenne, will be “transformed into an enormous store and workshop,” before the Jews are completely expelled from trade.

Their situation then declined to such an extent that they were compelled to pay taxes in order to be able to pass through this city. “The unfortunate Israelites, far from being merchants at Barcelona, entered it like merchandise.” [24] Jewish usury took on such dimensions in Aragon that serious movements against the Jews arose among the nobility and the bourgeoisie. In Germany, the primarily commercial period extends up to the middle of the thirteenth century. The Jews bring Germany into relations with Hungary, Italy, Greece, and Bulgaria. The slave trade flourishes up to the twelfth century. Thus, we are reminded in the customhouse tariffs of Walenstadt and of Coblenz that Jewish slave merchants had to pay four denars for each slave. A document of 1213 says of the Jews of Laubach “that they were extraordinarily wealthy and that they conducted a great trade with the Venetians, the Hungarians, and the Croats.” From the thirteenth century on, the importance of the German cities grows. As elsewhere, and for the same reasons, the Jews are eliminated from commerce and turn towards the banking business. The center of gravity of Jewish usury is concentrated in the nobility. The Acts of Nuremberg show the average debt contracted with the Jews rose to 282 gulden among the city people and 1,672 among the nobles. The same is true of the 87 notes of Ulm which belonged to Jewish banking houses. Of the 17,302 gulden which they covered, 90 percent belonged to noble debtors. In 1344, the Jewish banker Fivelin loaned the Count of Zweibrücken 1,090 pounds. The same Fivelin, in collaboration with a certain Jacob Daniels, loaned 61,000 florins to the King of England, Edward III, in 1339. [25] In 1451, emperor Frederick III asked Pope Nicolas V for a privilege in behalf of the Jews, “so that they could live in Austria and there make loans at interest to the great convenience of the nobility.” In the thirteenth century, in Vienna, the Jews Lublin and Nzklo are engaged in the important functions of “finance administrators of the Austrian Duke (Comites camarae ducis austriae). But this state of affairs could not continue indefinitely. Usury slowly destroyed the feudal regime, ruined all classes of the population, without introducing a new economy in place of the old. In contrast to capital, usury is essentially conservative. “Both usury and commerce exploit the various modes of production. They do not create it but attack it from the outside. Usury tries to maintain it directly in order to exploit it ever anew ....” [26] “Usury centralizes monetary wealth, where the means of production are disjointed. It does not alter the mode of production but attaches itself to it like a parasite and makes it miserable. It sucks its blood, kills its nerve and compels production to proceed under ever more disheartening conditions ... Usurer’s capital uses capital’s method of exploitation without its mode of production.” [27] Despite this destructive effect, usury remains indispensable in backward economic systems. But there it becomes an important cause of economic stagnation, as can be seen in many Asiatic countries. If the burden of the usurer becomes more and more unbearable in Western Europe, it is because it is incompatible with the new economic forms. Exchange economy penetrates rural life. Industrial and commercial development of the cities deals a blow to the old feudal system in the country. A vast market opens up to agricultural products, which leads to a decided recession in the old forms of servitude, and of rents based on the natural economy. “Hardly anywhere, save in regions which were difficult of access, or very remote from the great commercial movements, did serfdom retain its primitive form. Everywhere else, if it did not actually disappear, it was at least mitigated. One may say that from the beginning of the thirteenth century the rural population, in Western and Central Europe, had become or was in process of becoming a population of free peasants.” [28] Everywhere in Western Europe, and in part in Central Europe, the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries are the epoch of the development of Jewish usury. But economic evolution brings about its rapid decline. The definitive expulsion of the Jews took place at the end of the thirteenth century in England, at the end of the fourteenth century in France, at the end of the fifteenth century in Spain. These dates reflect the difference in the speed of economic development within these countries. The thirteenth century is an epoch of economic flowering in England. For Spain it is the fifteenth century which is the high point of the process wherein the Spanish kingdoms “developed their commerce and added to their wealth. Sheep began to cover the countryside, and in the trade with the North of Europe Spanish began to compete with English wool. The exports of wool to the Low Countries were considerably increased, and sheep-farming began to give Castile its characteristic aspect and to enrich the nobility. There was also an increasing trade with the North in iron from Bilboa, olive oil, oranges and pomegranates.” [29] Feudalism progressively gives way to a regime of exchange. As a consequence, the field of activity of Jewish usury is constantly contracting. It becomes more and more unbearable because it is less and less necessary. The more money becomes abundant as a result of the more intensive circulation of goods, the more pitiless becomes the struggle against an economic function which could hardly find economic justification except in a time of economic immobility, when the treasury of the usurer constituted an indispensable reserve for society. Now the peasant begins to sell his products and to pay his lord in money. The nobility in order to satisfy its growing luxury requirements is interested in freeing the peasantry and in everywhere replacing fixed rent in kind by rent in money. “The transformation of rent in kind into money rent that takes place at first sporadically, then on a more or less national scale, presupposes an already more significant development of trade, urban industry, commodity production in general and therefore monetary circulation.” [30] The transformation of all classes of society into producers of exchange values, into owners of money, raises them unanimously against Jewish usury whose archaic character emphasizes its rapacity.

The struggle against the Jews takes on increasingly violent forms. Royalty, traditional protector of the Jews, has to yield to the repeated demands of congresses of the nobility and the bourgeoisie. Besides, the monarchs themselves are increasingly compelled to dig into the treasuries of the bourgeoisie, a class which soon monopolizes the most important portion of mobile wealth. In the eyes of the kings the Jews, as a source of revenue, become less interesting (leaving out of consideration the fact that expulsion of the Jews was always an extremely profitable operation). It is in this fashion that the Jews were progressively expelled from all the Western countries. It was an exodus from the more developed countries to the more backward ones of Eastern Europe. Poland, deeply mired in feudal chaos, became the principal refuge of Jews driven out of every other place. In other countries, in Germany, in Italy, the Jews still survived in the less developed regions. At the time of the travels of Benjamin of Tudela, there were practically no Jews in commercial centers such as Pisa, Amalfi, Genoa. On the other hand, they were very numerous in the most backward parts of Italy. Even in the Papal States, conditions were far superior for Jewish trade and banking than in the rich mercantile republics of Venice, Genoa, and Florence. Mercantile economy therefore expelled the Jews from their last strongholds. The Jew, “banker to the nobility,” was already completely unknown in Western Europe toward the end of the Middle Ages. Here and there, small Jewish communities succeeded in maintaining themselves in certain secondary economic functions. The “Jewish banks” were no longer anything but pawnshops where it is poverty which is the borrower. The collapse was a total one. The Jew became a petty usurer who lends to the poor of town and country against pledges of petty value. And what can he do with the securities which are not redeemed? He must sell them. The Jew became a petty peddler, a dealer in secondhand goods. Gone forever was his former splendor. Now begins the era of the ghettos [31] and of the worst persecutions and humiliations. The picture of these unfortunates bearing the badge of the wheel and ridiculous costumes, paying taxes like beasts for passing through cities and across bridges, disgraced and rejected, has been implanted for a long time in the memory of the populations of Western and central Europe. Continuation Notes 1. “The manorial domain must contain in itself all that is necessary for life. It must so far as possible buy nothing from without and must not call for external aid. It is a small world in itself and must be sufficient to itself.” N.D. Fustel de Coulanges, Histoire des Institutions Politiques de l’Ancienne France (Paris 1888–92), vol. 4, p. 45. 2. Pirenne, Belgian Democracy, Its Early History, op. cit., p. 91. “Copper from Dinant and Flemish cloths, owing to a merited reputation, appear to have expanded beyond the narrow confines of the city market.” Maurice Ansiaux, Traité d’Économie Politique (Paris 1920–26), vol. 1, p. 267. 3. Depping, Histoire du commerce entre le Levant et l’Europe, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 182. 4. “Among the weavers, who sometimes work for distant markets, we see merchants becoming differentiated from the mass of artisans: these are the cloth merchants ....” Sée, Esquisse d’une Histoire Économique et Sociale de la France, op. cit., p. 102. 5. Depping, op. cit., vol. 1, pp. 184–85. 6. Pirenne, A History of Europe, op. cit., p. 227. 7. Weber, General Economic History, op. cit., p. 155. 8. Roscher states: “It might well be said that medieval policy toward the Jews is almost the reverse of the general economic trend.” Roscher, Status of the Jews in the Middle Ages, op.

Roscher states: “It might well be said that medieval policy toward the Jews is almost the reverse of the general economic trend.” Roscher, Status of the Jews in the Middle Ages, op. cit., p. 14. 9. Ibid., p. 20. “The rule that the independent development of merchants’ capital is inversely proportioned to the degree of development of capitalist production becomes particularly manifest in the history of the carrying trade ...” K. Marx, Capital, vol. 3, p. 387. 10. Aloys Schulte, in his Geschichte des Mittelalterlichen Handels und Verkehrs zwischen Westdeutschland und Italien (Leipzig 1900, p. 152), claims that the Jews did not try to establish connections with the artisans as the Christian entrepreneurs did, and losing their commercial position as a result of this, they had to engage exclusively in credit. This observation is highly interesting. It shows the essence of the problem: the link of Christian trade with industry and the lack of this tie on the part of Jewish trade. 11. In a study devoted to the Jews of a German city, Halberstadt, Max Köhler states that from the thirteenth century on, “the most important profession of the Jews of Halberstadt appears to have been usury.” Dr. Max Kohler, Beiträge zur Neueren Judischen Wirtschaftsgeschichte, Die Juden in Halberstadt und Umgebung bis zur emanzipation (Berlin 1927), p. 2. Heinrich Cunow tells us in Allgemeine Wirtschaftsgeschichte (op. cit., vol. 3, p. 45): “Although the economic conditions of the nobility were becoming worse all the time, its military games, its orgies, its festivals, its magnificent tourneys ... did not fail to expand in the fourteenth century. Poor nobles also considered it their duty to take part in them. As the necessary monetary prerequisites for this show were lacking to them, they went into debt with the Jews whose principal occupation was lending at interest ....” 12. The example of Poland again proves how infantile are the customary schema of Jewish historians who attempt to explain the commercial or usurious function of the Jews on the basis of persecutions. Who then had forbidden the Jews of Poland from becoming agriculturists or artisans? Long before the first attempts of the Polish cities to struggle against the Jews, all commerce and all banking in that country already lay in their hands. 13. This false conception of Jewish historians finds its counterpart in the proposition according to which the Jews had to abandon their “agricultural profession” because of legal bans. It is incorrect “to assert that the Jews were forbidden to own land. Wherever we find Jews doing business in the medieval cities, they are likewise the owners of their own houses. Moreover they often possessed larger pieces of land in the territory of the city. Truthfully speaking, it does not appear that they cultivated these lands anywhere. As soon as land came into their hands as security, they tried to sell it. It was not because they were forbidden to keep it but simply because they had no desire to do so. We do often find in the records, however, that vineyards, orchards, flax fields, etc. belonged to Jews. The products of these lands could easily be sold.” Cunow, op. cit., vol. 3, p. 112. 14. Schipper, Jewish History, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 127. “The Jews formed a social class very powerful because of the riches gained in industry, commerce and particularly banking operations.” Rafael Ballester y Castell, Histoire de l’Espagne (Paris 1928), p. 154. 15. “The virtuous Brutus lent money in Cyprus at eight-and-forty percent as we learn from the letters of Cicero.” Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations, Modern Library Edition, p. 94. 16. Brentano, Eine Geschichte der Wirtschaftlichen Entwicklung Englands, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 366. 17. Cunowvol. 3, p.

3, p. 110. 18. If it is puerile to think that feudal society whose principle was that “everyone should remain in his place,” transformed “Jewish agriculturists” into merchants, it is obvious, however, that legal prohibitions, themselves the fruit of economic conditions, played a certain role in confining the Jews within trade. This is above all true in periods when as a result of economic changes the traditional situation of the Jews became compromised. Thus, for example, Frederick the Great was not in favor of the Jews exercising manual professions. He wanted “everyone to remain in his profession; that the Jews be aided in the exercise of commerce but that the other professions should be left to Christians.” 19. Marx, Capital, op. cit., vol. 3, p. 697–698. 20. Ibid., pp. 698. My emphasis. 21. Ibid., p. 697. My emphasis. “In the same period, the famous theologian Medina, developing a premise which is also found in St. Thomas, acknowledges the play of supply and demand as a natural mode of determining the proper price. The Trinus Contractus, that marvel of juridical analysis which justifies the charging of interest in business loans when the money is really used as capital, is then admitted by the Italian and Spanish canonists, more enlightened than those of France, or rather situated in a more advanced social milieu.” Jannet, op. cit., p. 284. My emphasis. 22. Pirenne, Histoire de Belgique (Brussels 1902–32), vol. 1, p. 251. My emphasis. 23. Depping, Les Juifs dans le Moyen Age, op. cit., pp. 132–33. 24. Ibid., p. 387. 25. Bücher tells us in his book Bevölkerung von Frankfurt am Main im XIV und XV Jahrhundert (quoted by Cunow, op. cit., vol. 3, p. 46) “Among the debtors to the Frankfort Jews, we find a large part of the nobility of Wetterau, Pfalz, Odenwald, etc., represented .... The Archbishop of Mainz also owed the Jews money .... It is primarily the nobility that is heavily indebted. There were few lords in the area around Frankfort whose notes and pledges were not to be found in the Jewish quarter .... Certain Christian bourgeois of Frankfort and the neighboring cities had also contracted ‘Jewish debts’ (as the report of the city council expresses itself on this subject) but the greatest part of the 279 notes with which the city council was concerned were obligations of nobles.” 26. Marx, Capital, op. cit., vol. 3, p. 716. 27. Ibid., p. 700. My emphasis. 28. Pirenne, History of Europe, op. cit., p. 237. 29. Ibid., pp.

Ibid., pp. 491–92. 30. Marx, Capital, op. cit., vol. 3. p. 926. “This transformation of customs into money rent corresponds to the growth of mobile property .... Money becomes the readiest hallmark of wealth and begins to be preferred to natural products in evaluating the revenues of landed property. A similar evolution is noted in other countries and particularly in England where it is even more pronounced ....” Sée, Esquissse d’une Histoire Économique et Sociale de la France, pp. 61–62. 31. Contrary to a rather widespread conception, the ghetto is a rather recent institution. It was not until 1462 that the Jews of Frankfort were enclosed in a ghetto. “There never was a question of such a measure in the Middle Ages. On the contrary, the Jews could select their living quarters freely and could go anywhere in the whole city at any time.” Georg Ludwig Kriegk, Frankfurter Bürgerzwiste und Zustände im Mittelalter (Frankfort 1862), p. 441. We must not confuse Jewish quarters with ghettos. While the former are known in various epochs of Jewish history, the latter constitute an institution born of the period when the Jew becomes “a petty usurer.” Thus, in Poland, the ghetto constitutes the exception and not a rule. This did not prevent Hitlerite barbarism from “returning” the Polish Jews to the ghettos. Contents | Jews and Marxism Subject Page Last updated: 24 July 2020

Abram Leon The Jewish Question TWO From antiquity to the Carolingian epoch: The period of commercial prosperity of the Jews A. Before the Roman conquest From a very remote time Syria and Palestine were the highways for the exchange of goods between the two oldest centers of culture of the ancient Mediterranean world: Egypt and Assyria. [1] The essentially commercial character of the Phoenicians and Canaanites [2] was a product of the geographical and historical situation of the countries which they inhabited. The Phoenicians became the first great commercial people of antiquity because they [were] located [between] the first two great centers of civilization. It was Assyrian and Egyptian goods which at first constituted the main object of Phoenician trade. The same was certainly true for the Palestinian merchants. [3] According to Herodotus, Assyrian goods were the most ancient and most important articles of Phoenician commerce. No less ancient, however, was the connection of the Phoenicians with Egypt. The legends of biblical Canaan, as well as Phoenician myths, reveal continuous relations by land and by sea, between the inhabitants of these countries and the Egyptians. Herodotus also speaks of Egyptian goods which the Phoenicians had been bringing to Greece from very remote times. [4] But if the geographical situation of Palestine was as favorable as that of Phoenicia for mercantile trade between Egypt and Assyria [5], the facilities for navigation at the disposal of Syria were completely lacking in Palestine. Phoenicia was abundantly provided with everything necessary for sea travel; the cedar and cypress of Lebanon furnished it with timber; copper and iron were also plentiful in the mountains of Lebanon and in the outskirts. On the Phoenician coast, many natural ports were available for navigation. [6] It is therefore not surprising that at a very early date Phoenician ships, heavily laden with Egyptian and Assyrian products, should have begun to ply the navigable routes of the ancient world. “The political and mercantile relations of Phoenicia with the great states of the Nile and the Euphrates, relations established more than two thousand years before Christ, permitted the expansion of Phoenician trade to the coastal countries of the Indian Ocean.” [7] The Phoenicians brought the most diversified peoples and civilizations of antiquity closer together. [8] For many centuries the Phoenicians maintained a monopoly of trade between the relatively developed countries of the East and the less civilized countries of the West. In the era of the commercial hegemony of the Phoenicians, the islands in the western Mediterranean and the countries bordering it were economically still very backward. “This does not mean that trade was unknown to the society of the day [Homeric Society], but for the Greeks it consisted essentially of importations .... In payment for these purchases [for the raw or precious materials, the manufactured goods, which the foreign navigators came to offer them], the Greeks seem to have given chiefly cattle.” [9] This situation, so highly disadvantageous for the natives, was not long maintained. Phoenician commerce itself became one of the principal stimulants for the economic development of Greece. The rise of Greece was also favored by Hellenic colonization, which expanded greatly between the ninth and seventh century before Christ. The Greek colonists spread in all directions over the Mediterranean. Greek cities multiplied. Thucydides and Plato attribute the Greek emigration to the shortage of land. The development of Greek colonization was accompanied by a tremendous rise, at least for that era, in Hellenic industry and commerce. This economic development of Greece inevitably brought about the commercial decline of Phoenicia. “In the past, the Phoenicians had landed their goods at the Greek anchorages and had exchanged them against native products—usually, it seems, cattle. Henceforward, the Greek mariners [10] would themselves go to Egypt, to Syria, to Asia Minor, and among the peoples of Europe, the civilized Etruscans, and the barbaric Scythians, Gauls, Ligurians, and Iberians, taking with them manufactured goods and works of art, tissues, weapons, jewelry and painted vases, which had a great reputation and were eagerly bought by all the barbarians.” [11] The period extending from the sixth to the fourth century appears to have been the era of the economic apogee of Greece. “The characteristic of this new period was that the professions had become more numerous, organized and specialized. The division of labor had been greatly developed.” [12] At the time of the Peloponnesian War, Hipponikos employed six hundred slaves and Nikias one thousand in the mines. This important economic development of Greece has stimulated most bourgeois scholars to speak about a “Greek capitalism.” They go so far as to compare Hellenic industry and trade with the vast economic movement of the modern industrial era. In reality, agriculture continued to be the economic foundation of Greece and its colonies. “The Greek colony was not a trading colony: it was practically invariably military and agricultural.” [13] Thus, Strabo relates apropos of Cumes, a Greek colony in Italy, that it was not until three hundred years after settling there that the inhabitants noticed that their city was located near the sea. The essentially agricultural character of the economic life of the Hellenic world is incontestable. Nor can there be any question of an industry comparable to modern industry. “The methods of production and of organization remained on the artisan level.” [14] Only the mines seem to have presented, at least insofar as labor power is concerned, a picture similar to that which we see at the present time. The fact that despite their great expansion, industry and commerce remained for the most part in the hands of metics, of foreigners, proves best their relatively subordinate role in Greek economy. “In the immense trade of which Athens is the center, as well as in its industry the metics play a preponderant role.” [15] At Delos, the great commercial center, the inscriptions show that almost all the traders were foreigners. [16] The Greek citizen despised trade and industry; he was primarily the landed proprietor.