Born as Europe moved from a time of crowded change into a period of lethargy, descended from Rabbis, and abandoning his Protestant upbringing early in life, Karl Marx was a student during a time of intense intellectual development in Germany. The neo-Hegelian group he joined, led by Ludwig Feuerback, had rejected Hegel's notion of providence behind the cosmic process. Although Marx managed to avoid rational skepticism, he concluded, under Feuerback's influence, that religion, like all products of the mind, was derived from material conditions, and that these conditions determined the life of the community. In The German Ideology, he wrote:
"The phantoms formed in the human brain are also necessarily sublimates of their material life-processes, which is empirically verifiable and bound to material premises. Morality, religion, metaphysics, all the rest of ideology, and their corresponding forms of consciousness, thus no longer retain the semblance of independence. They have no history, no development….Life is not determined by consciousness, but consciousness by life."
After a year of frustrating work as a journalist in Cologne, which ended in his censorship by the Prussian government, Marx moved to Paris – to socialism, Proudhon, Bakunin, and Engels. But under Prussian prodding, Paris also became unfriendly after two years. Marx next moved to Brussels, and it was there that the "communist league" was born in 1847. The vision described in The Communist Manifesto was a classless society in which the means of production, distribution, and exchange were owned by the community, and from which the State had disappeared:
"If the proletariat during its contact with the bourgeoisie is compelled, by the force of circumstances, to organize itself as a class, if, by means of a revolution, it makes itself the ruling class, and, as such, sweeps away by force the old conditions of production, then it will, along with these conditions, have swept away the conditions for the existence of class antagonisms and of classes generally, and will thereby have abolished its own supremacy as a class.
"In place of the old bourgeois society, with its classes and class antagonisms, we shall have an association, in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all."
But the highway to the abolition of capitalism, said Marx and Engels, has an extended detour known as the dictatorship of the proletariat, sometimes described as state socialism or, when the means of production are administered for the community by the state, state capitalism. Critics of Marxism have long argued that the State's ultimate disappearance and the birth of the communal association were never more than mythology; the reality of communism, they say, is illustrated best by Russia from Lenin to Gorbachev.
Marx, of course, didn't have the benefit of hindsight. And although he felt strongly that the philosopher should be an agent of change, he was less concerned about the potential dangers of a communist State than the process of dialectical materialism. Retaining Hegelian concepts, he rejected Idealist philosophy and claimed that his dialectical method was not only different than Hegel's but its direct opposite:
"To Hegel, the life-process of the human brain, i.e. the process of thinking, which under the name of 'the Idea,' he even transforms into an independent subject, is the demiurgos of the real world, and the real world is only the external, phenomenal form of 'the Idea.' With me, on the contrary, the ideal is nothing else than the material world reflected by the human mind, and translated into forms of thought."
Thus, Marx stripped dialectic of its remaining mystical form, making the material world the ultimate reality. For Hegel, the Absolute contained both mind and nature. Marx applied the idea solely to the material world,. Mind was merely a by-product. In his essentially scientific philosophy, the material world was the only relevant matter.
Nevertheless, Marx did oppose the older materialists who suggested that sensations from the external world provide immediate knowledge. Perception of the environment, he argued, was only part of the process of acting upon it. Knowledge was bound up with action; together they created Praxis. Only through practice could the truth of theory be ascertained:
"The question whether objective truth can be attributed to human thinking is not a question of theory but is a practical question. Man must prove the truth, that is, the reality and power, the this-sidedness of his thinking in practice. The dispute over the reality or non-reality of thinking which is isolated from practice is a purely scholastic question.... Social life is essentially practical. All mysteries which mislead theory into mysticism find their rational solution in human practice and in the comprehension of this practice."
Marx assumed that sensations give us accurate copies of external reality, "mirror reflections of things." Once again skeptical observation and an orientation toward mastery of nature are prescribed as appropriate corollaries to the search for knowledge, which now took on the character of a revolutionary doctrine.
Marxism had several elements: dialectical philosophy, with its laws of transformation, unity of opposites and negation of the negation; the system of political economy, including the labor theory of value; and the theory of the State and revolution. The cornerstone of Marx' philosophical system was his theory of value: that labor alone creates it. Competition, he wrote, forces capitalists to accumulate private property, and to use technology to produce more goods. But an increase in the proportion of constant to variable capital reduces profits, and the number of capitalists decreases under competition as "one capitalist always kills many."
Weaker capitalists are progressively driven into the ranks of the wage-earners; the "misery, oppression, slavery, degradation and exploitation" of workers at capitalist hands escalates as more are driven into the industrial reserve army, where they must work for lower wages: "The monopoly of capital becomes a fetter upon the mode of production, which has sprung up and flourished along with, and under it. Centralization of the means of production and socialization of labor at last reach a point where they become incompatible with their capital packaging. This packaging is burst asunder. The knell of capitalist private property sounds. The expropriators are expropriated."
According to Marx, the combination of workers in a "cooperative form of labor-process" for their own protection will eventually create a force to destroy the capitalist system, strained to the limit largely through the replacement of humans by machines. Nevertheless, he favored increases in production tied to technological improvements, what he called "conscious technical application of science," and had no sympathy for inefficiency. Changes in the mode of production were for him the central determinants of social change, a force he assumed to be beyond human control. The value of humanity was therefore the net effect of its labor upon the economic system, an unfortunate capitulation to practice and betrayal of ongoing praxis. Since cultural change relied only on outer factors, a denigration of subjective life was clearly implied. The individual was the object and victim of external forces and institutions that could only be affected by "objective" experience and labor.
Materialism and dialectics compelled Marxists to attack idealist philosophy, demeaning its non-scientific basis, its so-called roots in ignorance, and its relation to religion, which he defined as mere quackery. Knowledge of the world, he was certain, isn’t conditioned by the senses, but rather is a jigsaw puzzle with a core of absolute truth that becomes more visible as knowledge increases. A crucial assumption of classic Marxism and its later variations was ultimate control by external "productive forces," leading to productive relations between human beings within an efficient and finally cooperative society.
In a classless society, mechanisms that have increased misery will eventually serve humanity. In relying on the destruction of past institutions to create a virtuous world, Marx also embraced the principle of "improvement through movement."
In the final years of the 19th century, unexamined faith in the promise of technology became a common theme. Scientific discovery was transforming the natural world into a machine-based environment. Scientific management basically restated renaissance rationalism, an old idea re-tailored for the new managers of the western world. Humanity was becoming the servant of forces it had unleashed.
Ironically, Karl Marx added his voice to this unfolding thesis. He assured the world that a technical cure could be applied to the spreading disease of mechanism.
Despite the tendency of some 19th Century thinkers to read their own anti-Enlightenment views into the works of Leibnitz, Kant, Hegel and Neitzsche, each of these philosophers to some extent sympathized with the basic intentions of the Age of Reason. Hegel, for example, wrote vitriolic attacks on Christianity as a youth, at least in part because it opposed Enlightenment ideals. His stated goal was to intellectualize romanticism and spiritualize enlightenment.
In his second work, The Life of Jesus, he used Christ to propagate Kant's ethics. "Pure reason," he wrote, "incapable of any limitation, is the deity itself." Hegel's Jesus rejected faith and accepted no authority but reason. In later years, Hegel criticized what he viewed as the romantic cult of intuition, and attacked Fries' philosophy of feeling, which suggested that all reality has an inner spiritual side as well as an outer material aspect.
Although he eventually did turn against the negation inherent in the Enlightenment view of religion, Hegel remained faithful to reason, accepting the "truth" according to Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, and Kant. At the core of his own doctrine was Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. All knowledge begins with experience, argued Kant, but it doesn't come from experience. The capacity to have experiences of, let's say, a spatial and temporal character is an a priori possession; the occasions for use of such capacities are a posteriori factors. And the interplay of the two produces knowledge. Central to all activity, including perception, is structure. Kant provided four possible structures for thought – the categories of quantity, quality, relation, and modality, the threads by which the self binds all experience together. Each of the structures, in turn, have three manifestations. Quantity, for example, is manifested as
Hegel adopted many of Kant's ideas, including his abhorrence of the irrational. The cosmic process, he proposed, is directed by a rational principle personified by World-Spirit, or Geist. Whatever is rational is real, he argued, and whatever is real is rational. Geist is universal reason moving through eternity; not simply soul but a totality of all experience, the Absolute or Idea:
"If we propose to think of the mind (Geist), we must not be so shy of its special phenomena....It is wrong, therefore, to take the mind for a processless 'ens', as did the old metaphysic which divided the processless inward life of the mind from its outward life."
Rather than appealing to mystical insight, Hegel relied on strictly rational procedures, and believed that the concept of mind could be defended only by carefully thinking about mind. This scientific approach led him to the transcendental ego, an underlying rational principle of consciousness, the will behind all practical reason and action. The experienced fact of Geist, presented and reconstructed through categories borrowed from both Aristotle and Kant, was a dynamic system of forms – quantity, quality, substance, causality, essence, existence, and so on, all revealed as the Absolute progressively unfolds itself. Hegel's Encyclopedia was a digest of thought, an ordered sequence of categorical items that provided a rational explanation of Geist.
To present his categories, he outlined the procedure he called dialectic, and said that it governed both thoughts and events in the temporal realm. Taken from the Greek word for discussion or debate, it was essentially the theory of the union of opposites. For Plato, dialectic was the art of discussion that arrives at truth by exposing contradictions and overcoming them. For Hegel, however, it was at the core of everything, the sole vehicle for progress. Thesis affirms a proposition, which antithesis denies or negates; synthesis enfolds the truth of both and moves humanity closer to reality. But synthesis, argued Hegel, is also limited, and therefore the triangular process is continually repeated. Conceptualized in this way, dialectic is a process of conflict and reconciliation in thought and time.
Hegel's philosophy was a restatement of older formulae such as matter-form-consciousness and body-soul-spirit; however, his magic triangle – being-nothing-becoming, which adopted the Pythagorean symbol of certainty and power, assumed continuous change. The triangle, sitting on its base, was also the Egyptian emblem of the Godhead, and generally signifies creative intellect, the yearning for higher things, the female element, movement from the material to the spiritual, and the wisdom inherent in nature. Turned upside down, on the other hand, the triangle becomes a symbol of the search for truth within nature, and takes on a male character. Hegel's dialectic therefore linked Greek thought, mathematics, and a variety of religious myths.
Even the poet W.B. Yeats, who hadn't read Hegel before developing the conceptual system he presented in A Vision, viewed the world as a conflict of "spectre and emanation," illustrated by "primary" and "antithetical" cones that matched Hegel's triangular reversals."By the antithetical cone," he wrote, "we express more and more...our inner world of desire and imagination, whereas by the primary...we express more and more...that objectivity of the mind which is external to the mind...not coloured by opinions." (See the triangular reversals posited by Hegel and Yeats in the graphic at the top of this essay.)
Hegel's belief in change led him to challenge the conflict of affirmation and denial made by formal logic. The truth and purpose of one phase of development, he argued, will be realized in a later stage. Thought must therefore consider things in connection with their histories and relations to other competing thoughts. Knowledge seeks the whole – totality or truth, he said, but never reaches it.
Using his dialectical process, the philosopher examined Geist as it realized its end through civilizations and great personalities. The Idea moves through time, he believed, with neither assertion nor opposition achieving a complete victory at any point. Yet he believed that it reaches its highest self-realization in art, religion, and philosophy. Through art the infinite becomes visible, in religious symbols it becomes more than art, and in philosophy is it mastered by thought.For Hegel philosophy was the goal of all development – mastery of the infinite through rational explanation.
But his reliance on dialectic was self-defeating, since change was considered an attribute only of Geist. Nature, on the other hand, was seen as a self-repeating cycle that induced feelings of ennui. The unity of nature was gone, and it struggled to regain self-identity in humanity, defined as its goal. Thus, human beings, including Hegel, were trapped by reason into a dialectical routine, straight-jacketed by rationality into a linear exposition that eventually became monotonous.
According to Hegel, the endless struggle for self-identity has three stages – mechanics, physics, and organic life. Geist also has three – the subjective, objective, and absolute. But only the absolute, he concluded, has complete reality, or reason; the whole, and nothing else, is completely real. The only solution is for all human beings to join together and form the "divine Idea" as it exists of earth – that is, to create the State. The State, he argued, is the larger and fuller expression of the individual, the only way for people to achieve self-realization. Humanity is therefore urged to accept the laws and customs of the group, and to subject individual conscience to universal reason:
"The State is Mind, per se. This is due to the fact that it is the embodiment of the substantial Will, which is nothing else then the individual self-consciousness conceived in its abstract form and raised to the universal plane. This substantial and massive unity is an absolute and fixed end in itself. In it freedom attains to the maximum of its rights: but at the same time the State, being an end in itself, is provided with the maximum of rights over against the individual citizens, whose highest duty it is to be members of the State."
Within a century, Hegel's dialectic served as a philosophical springboard for both proletarian radicalism and conservative nationalism. Ignoring his hints at transcendentalism, both revolutionaries and patriots turned his system into an oracle of submission to absolute order, a way to bind the complexity that was already producing ennui. In the 20th century, system theorists applied his notion of the "union of opposites" to all entities, rarely questioning the identification of the "real" and rational as Geist.
Sadly, synthesis was beyond Hegel's personal limits. In his later years he moved from the condemnation of Christianity to the celebration of its dogmas as philosophical truth. Illustrating his dialectic in motion, his personal pendulum swung from one extreme to another. He was trapped in an ennui expressed not in the self-repeating dialectic of nature (Evolutionists have since documented that novelty and purposive adaptation occur within all living systems), but in the era spanned by his 61 years of life. The energy of the Enlightenment had gradually eroded into routines, and a marsh gas of boredom and vacuity settled at the nerve endings of social life.
Born two years before the publication of Diderot's Encyclopedie, before the French Revolution and the Napoleonic extravaganza, Hegel lived through a deeply enervating period of change. In the first decades of the 19th century time itself accelerated and human experience crowded in, followed by a long period of statis dominated by repression and the gradual expansion of civilized order.
The line of reasoning that had brought the philosopher to propose the fuller existence of Geist in organization – that is, the coordination of the individual -- was this: to be free is to be self-consciously self-determined, not only in one's actions but in choices. The self, however, is not one's physical nature – feelings, impulses and desires – but mind conceived as rational thought. And thought is governed by laws of reason, a system determined by the nature of reason. Thus, the only free person is one who chooses in accordance with reason. Yet rationality doesn't guarantee self-government, since many individual actions are determined subjectively. The objective basis that is needed to guide actions can be found only in laws and institutions, and only when they are properly organized as embodiments of the laws of reason.
Within a decade of his death in 1831, Hegel's approach was given a practical test in Prussian politics. While conservative Hegelians argued over interpretations, leftists enriched the revolutionary potential inherent in his identification of the rational with the actual. Hegel, of course, had confined himself to considering the past, which he believed to be the philosopher's proper task. "Philosophy comes too late to teach the world what it should be," he wrote. "The owl of Minerva begins its flight when the shades of twilight have already fallen." But Karl Marx disagreed. The function of philosophy, he said, wasn't merely to define and analyze the world but also to change it. For this work, dialectic proved to be a highly flexible instrument.
Part Four of Out of This World: Death, Ghosts, and the Roots of Theosophy
In 1874, Helena Blavatsky followed Henry Olcott to Chittenden, a small Vermont town, to see the “manifestations” of William Eddy, an alleged medium. Their resulting alliance led directly to the launching of the US Theosophy movement, an impressive synthesis of Buddhism, occultism, and Western philosophy that became enormously influential in subsequent decades.
Here is a final scene from the book, picking up just moments after Helena and Henry meet:
***
A good start, she decided. Yet she also had to wonder: what exactly had begun? Her teachers had sent her from Cairo to Paris and then to America. And now to Henry and Vermont. Why? He and the spiritualists were lost in a fog. Even the way they talked about all of it was wrong. They spoke of "materializations" when spirits of the dead don't take "material" form. They talked about spirit and soul as if there was no difference between the immaterial, divine principle and that vital breath of life shared with humans by every animal.
Spirit materializations! The proper description was spiritless materialism.Still, she knew that Henry was the key. At least he was searching for real answers – natural laws rather than gross superstitions.
At his request, she outlined her background: granddaughter of princes and generals, Kourland family of the Hahn-Hahns, birth in Ekaterinoslav, father a Captain, mother a writer, plus a family line that stretched back to the Crusades. She explained how, according to legend, the von Hahn name had been taken by a knight when the crowing of a hahn, or cock, awoke him just in time to prevent an ambush in the Holy Land. She described her youth, spent in St. Petersburg, Odessa and Saratov, but added that her real life had begun only when she left home for Egypt, India and Tibet.
Had he seen the dancing dervishes, she asked, or the serpent charmers of Damascus and Benares? Did he know that fakirs could tame animals with their eyes? During her wandering years she had witnessed these wonders and many more.
In Bengal, for example, she had seen an adept create a photograph of the local landscape on a dish just by staring at it. His full-color copy of nature had lasted for several days before fading away.
"How did he do it?"
"With a powerful will, I expect. Marvelous, no? Like what you've seen here."
"But you make it sound easy."
"It can be -- for those of who know how. Some people, I think, develop mental abilities that the rest of us ignore. Basically, it's a question of attitude."
"That's too simple."
"It isn't simple at all."
"And you know about these things?"
"I've seen enough to know there is a great difference between being sensitive and having real power. Let us say that a group of fakirs gathers around a lake full of alligators. I've actually seen something like this. The monsters are harmless as kittens. Why? Because the holy men can communicate with them – in fact, they can subdue the beasts. But if a foreigner, someone who is insensitive, comes within a few paces, those alligators will likely get an early dinner. What's the difference? I say it's the foreigner's attitude."
She was trying to convey the basics – awareness and regulation of the life-principle. Although Henry suspected that mediums were no more than vehicles of some greater power, he didn't yet understand the essential difference between being passive and controlling the process, the active mediation that separated the levitation of a primitive sensitive from the miracles of a sorcerer or Jesus Christ. No, he knew nothing about spiritual evolution or the astral light. This was going to take time. But at least now she had his attention.
***
During visits to Chittenden in the late 1970s, I contacted two women who knew William Eddy and his brother Horatio in later years. Agnes Gould, at 96 the oldest Chittenden resident at the time, told stories suggesting that what might have begun as a sincere pursuit descended into fakery.
Another local resident, 80-year-old Mabel Potter, was undecided. There might have been some tricks, she said, “but I don’t know. I think a lot of it was genuine, because they’d been all over that house to find out about cupboards or closets that they could use to be doing something tricky.” Although Potter moved into Horatio Eddy’s house in the 1920s, she didn’t see any ghosts. But she knew others who did. One account involved a sewing machine in the house that started up unassisted in the middle of the night.
Potter also described William Eddy in his 90s, working alone in his garden, a tall, solidly-built man who still sported a full black beard. He spent most of his life alone, living an interior existence, never marrying, and declining to indulge in the theatrical spiritualism evidently practiced by his brother and sister.
Will he be back? I asked Agnes. Although she did believe some people can see into the future, she replied, “I don’t think anybody can bring a person back to this earth. Nobody but God.” When I pressed, she added, “And who’d want to come back?”
It remains a good question, along with several others that have yet to be definitively resolved. Are spirits of the dead real? Is material existence a one shot deal? Are all such unexplained phenomena merely the result of suggestion, wish fulfillment, and clever manipulation? Or was Blavatsky on the right track?
Even today my personal quest isn’t over, in part because I still haven’t been able to explain the “journey” I mentioned at the start of this essay. It happened in October 1974, precisely a century after Blavatsky and Olcott met in Vermont.
One evening, while I was napping with my partner, she felt my body grow uncommonly cold and couldn’t wake me up. As far as I knew, however, I wasn’t lying there. I was at the other end of the house, reading one of Blavatsky’s books.
It wasn’t the usual dream state. I felt completely present, as if it was just a normal experience in daily life — that is, until something pulled at me, and I felt myself zooming up and backward. Suddenly, I was back on the bed, being violently shaken by my panicked partner. Afterward, she told me that she feared I was dead.
Was it a vivid fantasy? Or was I taking a brief astral stroll, somehow drawn to Blavatsky and her ideas? I still can’t say for sure. But I’ve decided to keep asking questions. And, in the meantime, I choose to believe that not everything in life — or afterward — can be neatly explained.
On November 8 from 1-4 p.m., I will discuss Spirits of Desire at The Sacred Bean in Prescott, Arizona. To purchase a copy of the book or find out more, post a comment to this website.
Greg Guma grew up in New York City and moved to Vermont in 1968. Since then he has been a newspaper journalist, magazine editor, college educator, public administrator, community organizer, federal projects director, bookstore owner, self-taught historian, and CEO of the Pacifica Radio Network.
Posts
