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450 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2003
To some extent, the defeat of the revolution is fully registered in its actuality, which it confirms without, for all that, offering any guarantee whatsoever for the future.
It seems to me that this offers rich food for thought about history, which is, as we all know, a force that we encounter not in person, by virtue of a mystical illumination or founding anthropological experience, but only indirectly, through its effects. And if it is true that those effects are always apprehended as limits that individual and collective action comes up against in traumatic moments, the fact remains that these limits do not originate in a transcendent absolute; they can therefore be displaced, though not ignored or abolished. This, perhaps, is the only acceptable definition of an absolutely historicist approach, such as the one I have tried to adopt, and, simultaneously, the corresponding political practice, which deserves to be put to the test of experience or, at the very least, of thought.
Of course, a third term, in addition to the France-Germany pairing, was represented by England – which represented capitalist development, but also political economy. Here, we again find ourselves in a landscape that at first glance recalls the 'three sources of Marxism': the harmonious synthesis theorized by Karl Kautsky. This reading would enjoy extraordinary fortune in the workers' movement's self-representation of the emergence of Marxian theory. Yet research into this problem does not bring to light any quasi-spontaneous convergence leading to such a harmonious synthesis of knowledge. Rather, it shows a difficult process involving an irreducible element of contingency, constituted by way of a constant interplay of discrepancies. It was Gramsci who reflected most deeply on this question, which constituted the point of departure for his key concept of 'translation' – the operator of the passage between these three European realities and languages.
Heine, as I have said, was not the only one to have been struck by the singular destiny of the word 'communism'. On the eve of the 1848 Revolution, Comte, too, took note of it. He saw in this name a collective creation, the fruit of a historical necessity, and considered it serious competition for what he himself was proposing in this period, a 'fundamental coalition between philosophers and proletarians' united around positivism: 'communism, which does not bear anyone's name, is not at all the by-product of an exceptional situation. We must rather see in it the spontaneous progress, rooted in feelings rather than reason, of the true revolutionary spirit, which today tends to be primarily preoccupied with moral questions, and to treat political solutions, in the true sense of the word, as secondary.' Comte even admitted that communism was 'the only movement that is today capable of posing and pursuing, with irresistible energy, the most important question' – that is, the social question.