Hegel, Marx, and the English State.
Kent, Christopher
By David MacGregor. Boulder, Colorado, Westview Press, 1992. x, 345
pp. $44.50 U.S.
Both Hegel and Marx were close students of Britain. For Hegel
Britain was an historical aberration that could not be ignored because
of its wealth and power. For Marx it was, at least theoretically, the
norm of future historical development. Hegel followed British affairs at
a distance, mainly through the press. Marx studied Britain more closely,
living over half his life there, Hegel's last work was a long
newspaper article analysing the reform-bill crisis of 183L Marx's
great work Capital was an exhaustive and exhausting analysis of British
capitalism. Given Marx's intellectual debt to Hegel, one wonders
that a study such as Mary, Engels and the English State was not
attempted long ago, in the noontime of Marxist and Hegelian scholarship.
That it should not be written until now is perhaps one more validation
of Hegel's famous dictum: "The Owl of Minerva spreads its
wings only with the fall of dusk." It certainly offers a reading of
Hegel and Marx at considerable variance from old ideological
orthodoxies, though less perhaps from historical reality.
David MacGregor is not an historian, but a sociologist at the
University of Western Ontario. However, his book may interest historians
political, social and intellectual of Britain. He begins with a
discussion of Hegel's reform-bill article claiming that, contrary
to the traditional view, it was not a sour mix of anglophobia and
Prussian chauvinism but a shrewd analysis of the political situation as
of mid-1831 which correctly identified the structural weaknesses of the
existing British state, most notably its dominance by a corrupt and
incompetent aristocracy, and pointed the direction that politics must
take if the nation was to avoid revolution. MacGregor suggests that
Hegel's prescription was largely followed (though be did not live
to see this: he died of cholera in November 1831) particularly with the
emergence of a small cadre of brilliant bureaucrats who embodied the
Hegelian ideal of the "universal class," disinterested
servants of the state who were instrumental in effecting and enforcing
the reforms Britain so badly needed. Thus when Karl Marx arrived in
London in August, 1849, a failed revolutionary and political refugee, he
came to a country that had triumphantly withstood the revolutionary
tremors of 1848. He then began Capital, his uncompleted life work, which
was enormously indebted to the mountains of information in the famous
parliamentary blue books, information compiled by diligent civil
servants that touched on practically every aspect of national life.
Particularly cherished by Marx were the six monthly Reports of the
Inspectors of Factories concerning the enforcement of the Factory Acts which regulated hours and conditions of work in the textile industry.
MacGregor's attentive reading of Capital finds Marx in
postures unfamiliar to those who know him only through orthodox
exegesis. He quotes us a Marx who explicitly praised the Factory Acts as
successful examples of state intervention, who praised the factory
inspectors and especially Leonard Horner, the first head of the
Inspectorate, for their zeal in protecting working class factory
operatives, and who found in the larger companies, usually the better
employers, evidence that "capitalist joint-stock companies as much
as cooperative factories should be viewed as transition forms from the
capitalist mode of production to the associated one' (p. 200). This
Marx is, of course, of a piece with the Marx whose "whole theory .
. .," according to Engel's 1886 Preface to the English edition
of Capital, "led to the conclusion that, at least in Europe,
England is the only country where the inevitable social revolution might
be effected entirely by peaceful and legal means' (p. 59). This
could only be done by the state, which raises several problems for
Marxist orthodoxy since the withering away of the state is usually seen
as a central feature of Marx's historical projection. In fact the
state and government intervention are powerful and positive presences in
Capital, MacGregor argues, despite the significant silence of most
Marxist commentators on this point. MacGregor's explanation for
this difficulty is Marx's intellectual debt to Hegel, which
Marxists have long (and here at least they are in agreement with Marx
himself underplayed. "In the Hegelian scheme, the state becomes
more prominent, not less, with the march of history" (p. 55), and
the dedicated factory inspectors, members of Hegel's universal
class, were among its chief agents.
MacGregor's discussion of Hegel is beyond this reviewer's
critical competence. It is certainly a very '90s Hegel, one that
Mrs. Thatcher would have found very "wet" indeed. This is a
Hegel for whom the state is love (or perhaps Love), a Hegel who, despite
the misconstructions of certain feminist scholars, was a firm feminist,
on matters of property rights, marriage, and divorce. And yet, as
MacGregor notes, Hegel fathered a child on a woman he refused to marry
despite a promise to do so. Of course it is "the song, not the
singer," that we should attend to here. Otherwise who would pay
attention to Rousseau, who "casually abandoned all five of his
children to probable death in foundling homes"? MacGregor is an
ardent Hegelian on his own terms, who believes not only that much of the
strength of Capital comes from Hegel's influence, but that much of
its weakness comes from not being Hegelian enough, particularly on the
question of private property where he feels Marx went badly astray.
MacGregor is interesting and persuasive on this point. It is worth
mentioning that MacGregor authorizes some of his very liberal
interpreting of Hegel on the grounds that he was writing under
censorship, and must therefore be decoded. Add to this the argument that
Hegel was also a practitioner of irony, and there is some danger that
the interpreter may claim something like a blank cheque.
As for how good MacGregor's history is, here the reviewer is
on firmer ground. The author is generally well read in the secondary
literature. He is perhaps weakest when he strains to show how accurate
Hegel's analysis of unreformed Britain was. Shrewd though Hegel was
on some points -- he was certainly an attentive reader of the Duke of
Wellington's speeches -- his somewhat complacent and tidy-minded
Prussian perspective on government prevented him from appreciating the
expressive functions and dynamics of pre-1832 politics, which he too
quickly wrote off as corruption. The recent work of John Brewer, Frank
O'Gorman, James Vernon, Marc Baer, and others would have helped
MacGregor to appreciate better Hegel's weaknesses here. Certainly
the aristocracy was a persistently powerful force in British politics, a
fact that surprised Hegel and Marx, and, it seems, MacGregor too. But
neither they nor he appreciated the complexity and strength of the
resistances to its power, of which E. P. Thompson was such a
connoisseur. On the Factory Acts MacGregor is stronger. He explicitly
enrols in the ranks of the "welfare-state Whigs," to use David
Cannadine's label, a currently somewhat unfashionable
historiographical school, but by no means a discredited one. Thus he
effectively challenges some of Peter Bartrip's recent conclusions
on the Factory Acts. His work fits in with the anti-laissez-faire thesis
developed by O. McDonagh out of J. B. Brebner in the early 1960s, but
also with the challenging arguments of Harold Perkin on the rise of the
professional ideal. Finally, it is significant that MacGregor's
attraction to the Hegelian ideal of the civil servant is not unrelated
to his own spell as an Ottawa social policy bureaucrat in the halcyon days of our own philosopher-king, Pierre Elliot Trudeau.