1. Introduction: revolution and the juridical in Laski’s Marxist pivot
The importance of the theme of revolution in twentieth century political philosophy is undisputed, considering that radical mutations in political systems are crucial in understanding the operations and essence of politics.Footnote 1 This topic, however, is also relevant to legal theory, since any theory of revolution may shed light on the genetic and transformative process of law itself, which is but the social process by means of which a specific order of meaning is produced, established, modified, and, ultimately, removed.Footnote 2 Revolution, in fact, has often been neglected by scholars engaged with the problems of law and the legal order, for it appears nothing other than a phenomenon of complete absence of the juridical. As the law is either what revolutionary acts demolish or, symmetrically, their normative outcome, legal science and legal theory tend to depict a negative relation between those two terms, thus displaying a logical opposition of the concept of revolution to that of legal order.Footnote 3 A different—let us say positive—interpretation of such relation may be attempted by regarding the juridical not as the result of a transformative process, but as the process itself. Such a perspective seems, in fact, capable of shaking the tight connection between socio-political phenomena—including revolution—and the point of view of a specific legal order, by the understanding of law in its historicity.Footnote 4
In this vein, the interlacement of revolution and law seems paramount in Marxist literature, as the problem of “revolutionary practice” (umwälzende Praxis) entails a reflection on the generative process of existing normative orders and a practical problem as to its destiny.Footnote 5 The prominence of Marxist philosophy affected the British Socialist context no less than other political environments; the British movement, however, has been traditionally reluctant to engage in revolutionary practice and particularly fond of social-reform tactics.Footnote 6 An interesting configuration of the relationship between law and revolution in Britain can be found in the works of English political theorist and socialist intellectual Harold J. Laski (1893-1950), who interpreted Marxism in such a way that it could form (or seem to form) a theoretical framework to promote the political operations of the Labour Party. Laski, in fact, was not only an academic and part of the British intellectual milieu during the interwar years, but also well-versed in political activism among the ranks of Labour.Footnote 7 As we shall see, Marxism played a central role in Laski’s search for a political theory able to adequately support the claims of Labour and the self-comprehension of its historical mission.
In carrying on this intellectual operation, however, Laski put forward a peculiar reading of Marxian concepts and, therefore, Marxist philosophy: such peculiarities, in all likelihood, have to do with his Labour partisanship and stem, in general, from the generally British non-revolutionary and non-conflictual frame of mind. It is not by chance that Laski almost never used the word ‘dialectic’ in his writings, which clearly suggests that in Laski’s reading, Marxist thought is to be found transformed and divested of most of its original features. This work will analyse Laski’s interpretation of Marxism, starting from the problem of revolution that interweaves his conception of law and the state, this way allowing an understanding of the implications of his reading of class conflict, democracy, and the withering away of the state-order. In particular, it will be shown how Laski’s deployment of Marxian categories epitomises the positive relationship between law and revolution, as the juridical is, in Laskian terms, both the object and the means by which the revolutionary process takes place. To this end, I will sketch Laski’s theory of revolution by stressing, on the one hand, its connection with his pluralistic theory of law and, on the other hand, its overlap with his thesis of incompatibility between capitalism and democracy.
2. “The One” and “the Many”: Harold Laski as a Socialist, Pluralist, and anti-Idealist
Laski’s reading of Marx and Marxism is best dealt with in connection with the rest of his work, which explains both his approach to dialectic thought and his peculiar conception of law. A quick sketch of Laski’s early writings, therefore, is priorly necessary in order to see how his legal theory reacts to his Marxist pivot, which owes much to the British intellectual movements that had a deep influence on his political thought. In fact, it is well-known that England experienced a rich debate in political philosophy between the 1870s and the 1940s, involving idealism, historicist pluralism, and a number of variants of Socialism.Footnote 8
As a Socialist, Laski developed his social and political beliefs in close contact with two major groups operating in Great Britain in the early twentieth century: Guild Socialism and the Fabian Society. During his years as a student, he was primarily attracted to the Guildist approach,Footnote 9 which had G.D.H. Cole as its prominent scholar and promoter, and its project of establishing a pluralistic political system arising from the organisation of National Guilds stemming from the Trade Unions.Footnote 10 Even after shifting to Fabianism during the 1920s, thus supporting the idea of a decisive controlling authority over the plurality of associations, he never abandoned—as I will show further in this paper—his attitude to pluralism as a truthful approach to social analysis.Footnote 11
It was English political pluralism, in fact, that particularly affected the early Laskian theoretical perspective on law, which notably stemmed from the problem of legal personality.Footnote 12 On this matter, Laski was primarily influenced by F.W. Maitland and J.N. Figgis, who first argued that groups and associations were juridical persons, which means legal subjects, despite the will of the state; from this thesis they then derived the idea of legal power originally belonging to these groups, which could issue norms of the same kind as the legal commands of the state.Footnote 13 Laski, indeed, agreed with this thesis, so that he could use it to contrast the “empty formalism” of the theory which acknowledged reality only in the personality of the state.Footnote 14 However, he soon came to recognise the essentialism in the pluralist conception of real personality, which seemed to him unable to realise that corporate personality was just an “idea” that united group-members on the basis of their “acceptance” of the group-purpose.Footnote 15 Such a version of pluralism appears, moreover, consistent with Laski’s theory of legal power based on allegiance, as well as with his idea of revolution by consent.Footnote 16
Laski’s appreciation of the English pluralists ought to be regarded in the light of his rejection of the monistic theory of the state, which he believed was supported by British Idealism.Footnote 17 He accordingly displayed harsh criticism toward the tradition of the nineteenth century British Idealists who were responsible for the reception of Hegelian philosophy in Great Britain, although he drew many of his ideas about liberty and rights from T.H. Green and B. Bosanquet.Footnote 18 The pluralistic theory that Laski proposed in his early writings was, in fact, constructed to oppose Hegelianism, which in his reading was the leading philosophical perspective to affirm the unity of the state, supporting, by consequence, its monopoly over the legal and social order.Footnote 19 His pluralism, claiming to come from the assumption of “the Many,” was meant to produce a radical change in political analysis from the Hegelian perspective, which assumed “the One” to come “before the Many.”Footnote 20
In so doing, however, Laski also refuted Hegelian dialectic, both in its metaphysical principles and its methods of analysis, which prevented him from reading the course of history by seeking to encompass events in a total order of meaning. The consequences of his choice of field were, in a sense, bound to affect his construction of pluralism as a competition of groups for the allegiance of the masses, as well as his notion of revolution and class-conflict, which is—as will be shown in the following sections—mostly idiosyncratic if compared to the traditional Hegelian-Marxist analysis.Footnote 21
3. Competing orders: law and revolution in Laski
Laski first approached the topic of revolution in the early 1930s, as soon as he realised that the Fabian strategy he had supported thus far could not pave the way to any substantial change in the structure of society, and could, as a matter of fact, ultimately perpetuate “a regime of privilege in a different and, indeed, less desirable form than the old.”Footnote 22 At that time, Laski thought instead that the key to interpreting historical transformations and the role of Socialism in Britain could be found in Marx’s theory (whose economic and social assumptions he had harshly criticised in the previous decade).Footnote 23 Rediscovering Marx drove Laski to conceive historical materialism as an indispensable tool for political and legal theory, insofar as it could enable any “social philosopher” to see beyond the veil of mysticism which covers “the nature and function of the State,” “legal institutions,” and the “development of philosophical systems.”Footnote 24
Now Laski pinpointed two faces of Marxist philosophy: He appreciated its relevance as a “philosophy of history,” whereas he rejected it as a “social tactic” or “strategy,”Footnote 25 as it seemed to be excessively dependent on violence and proletarian dictatorship.Footnote 26 Whilst the latter aspect will be discussed in the following sections, it seems appropriate to focus immediately on the former, so far as the problem of revolution can be understood with respect to Laski’s approach to Marx’s philosophy of history. It is in the link between Marxian categories and the concept of historical change that one comes across Laski’s notion of ‘revolution’. This concept is tightly connected to that of “relations of production,” which represent, for Laski, “the relations involved in the way in which men earn their living,” and are, therefore, the main category upon which the interpretation of politics, law, and history should be grounded.Footnote 27
Interestingly, Laski did not provide any specific definition of ‘revolution’, although it can be deduced from the meaning Laski attributes to the opposite movement or practice: counter-revolution.Footnote 28 The specific “purpose” of counter-revolution is “to preserve a system of productive relations now inconsistent with increasing material welfare,”Footnote 29 which compels its promoters to “adapt capitalist society to the conditions of modern technology, of a world-market, of a division of labour which has made the collectivist organization of social relationships inevitable.”Footnote 30 By contrast, revolution implies a fundamental change in those relations of production and, particularly, a “new conception of property,”Footnote 31 which aims, according to Laski, to “release new and immense sources of production.”Footnote 32 Therefore, since revolution is a process that brings about the transformation of the mode of production, any other mutation that leaves economic relations intact cannot be deemed ‘revolutionary’.Footnote 33 In this respect, Laski appears close to Marx’s linkage of “real revolution” with the collision between the forces of production and the existing “productive forms” in that society.Footnote 34
This theory of revolution constantly interlaces with Laski’s idea of law, which is a key concept to understand his political theory insofar as he conceived political obligation—i.e., the problem of due obedience to political groups and associations—and juridical obligation as working through one and the same mechanism.Footnote 35 In fact, both the legitimacy of political authority and the validity of law are grounded, for Laski, on the “allegiance,”Footnote 36 or “consent,”Footnote 37 of the individual: This means that individuals are bound to obey a determinate social order insofar as they recognise that their obedience is due. “The roots of valid law,” he states explicitly, “are, and can only be, within the individual conscience.”Footnote 38
Two observations seem particularly noteworthy about Laski’s notion of obligation. First, this principle of recognition, which Laski calls a “reservoir of individualism” and “Athanasius-element,”Footnote 39 leads the theory of obligation either to a fallacy, by deriving normativity from empirical facts, or to a tautology, as it concludes that the law is perceived obligatory only by those who believe themselves to be obligated.Footnote 40 Secondly—though no less importantly—by arguing that any group is potentially able to collect individual allegiances, Laski’s analysis implicates a “pluralistic theory of law,” as every “association,” whether the state or another, becomes a legal order whenever its authority is recognised by a large part of the mass of individuals.Footnote 41
Despite its being discussed in prominent literature, Laski’s legal pluralism does not seem—either logically or practically—a priori inconsistent with a Marxian frame of reference.Footnote 42 While reflecting on the interaction between private property and humanness, Marx himself argued that “human reality” is as “highly varied as the determinations of human essence and activities.”Footnote 43 The significance of human reality (and, therefore, human relationships) which exist in capitalist society is but one of many possible determinations of humanness.Footnote 44 Therefore, Marx seems to argue, human beings can be “human” in several ways, depending on what kind of order determines their essence and activity. However, this view is hardly compatible with Laski’s individualism, which assumes that every single subject is capable of determining for themselves the order to which they belong, rather than being determined by that order.Footnote 45
Such friction notwithstanding, Laski’s attempted adoption of Marxian vocabulary and concepts seems to leave room for pluralism, which may in turn lend a helping hand to better understand Laski’s own approach to Marxist political and legal theory. According to Laski, in fact, the law in capitalist society is essentially an instrument of class domination, as is the state;Footnote 46 however, the structure of both of these institutions, by virtue of the pre-eminence of liberal-capitalist material interests, is not their necessary form.Footnote 47 The state—though the same might be said of the law—is for Laski “too much an historic category not to change its nature with the advent of new needs,” which means that the legal and political order can take a number of configurations.Footnote 48
From this perspective, the opposition of revolution and counter-revolution can be interpreted as a competition of conflicting orders, fighting to affirm their principles over each other. Laski argued, in fact, that the “competition of ideals for survival” involves the struggle between different and incompatible “claims of right which seek for realization” and are “ ‘implicated’ in the class-relation.”Footnote 49 The classes’ attempt to readjust those relations “by conquest of the state,” therefore, brings about the struggle to enforce new claims of right or, so to speak, some kind of order previously unknown.Footnote 50 In this sense, Laski’s pluralistic approach to revolution looks somewhat similar to Santi Romano’s legal conception of revolutionary action (rivoluzione), which although pronounced illegal (antigiuridico) by the law of the state, is by itself “an ordered movement regulated by its own law (movimento ordinato e regolato dal suo proprio diritto).”Footnote 51 Revolution implies the removal of such order and the establishment of a new one, which competes with the former for the “allegiance of the masses.”Footnote 52
With this in mind, it can be observed that the interaction between pluralism and Marxism in Laski’s thought leads into one of the most relevant questions in Marxist legal philosophy, i.e., that of the disappearance or permanence of any form of legal regulation in the classless society. In fact, Marx attacked the supremacy of “equal right” as “in principle” and “in practice” nothing but “bourgeois right,” although he did not speak about the inexistence of any form of ‘right’ at all in the Communist society.Footnote 53 This problem, however, will be better dealt with respecting Laski’s interpretation of the withering-away theory in Section 5.
4. The reciprocity between the economic base and legal superstructure
The relevance of law in Laski’s theory of revolution lies not only in its being the ‘object’ of revolution—namely, the order that is changed through such a process; the legal device is also necessary (though not sufficient by itself) for the revolutionary process to take place. Revolution, for Laski, may occur either “by violence” or “by consent,” although in any case it should be able to rewrite material—or economic—relations only through the “re-definition” of legal relations.Footnote 54 This particular argument deserves a closer look in connection with the problem of the interaction between base and superstructure, which Laski did not approach by using Marx’s vocabulary, even though he patently tried to take on his categorisation.
To some extent, however, Laski seems to misinterpret Marxism—possibly on purpose, as it will be shown at the end—precisely on the relationship between Struktur and Überbau. According to Laski, in fact, the politico-legal sphere represented by the state is constituted to the end of protecting the relations of productions: “if we assume that the relations of production are fundamental … therefore the actions of the state will, at any given time, be used to maintain and promote [their] implications, legal and other.”Footnote 55 In looking at the role of the political and the juridical in this way, Laski’s theory simplifies and perhaps trivialises Marx, who conceived the relationship between the “economic structure of society” and the “legal and political superstructures” with more complexity than Laski suggests—that, in fact, it is not a relationship of “protection” by the latter to the benefit of the former: it is instead a determination relationship, where Überbau generates from Struktur, and only in this sense gives stability to the underlying material relations.Footnote 56
Productive relations determine the content and matter of legal and political relations, which in turn constitute productive relations by giving them specific shape and enforcement. Legal relations, therefore, both originate from materiality and provide normative constitution for it. The argument of the reciprocal determination of structure and superstructure is one of the most prominent in Marxist literature.Footnote 57 Along these lines, Antonio Gramsci famously promoted the idea of a “necessary reciprocity between structure and superstructures,” whose continuous interaction formed a “historical bloc.”Footnote 58 During the 1960s, issues such as these were tackled in a different way by Louis Althusser and his analysis of contradiction. In a renowned work of his, Althusser argued that fractures in social unity derive from an “accumulation of contradictions,” which depend not only on productive relations, but also on “superstructures, instances which derive from it, but have their own consistency and effectivity.”Footnote 59
Upon closer inspection, Laski may be situated along this line of thought, as he assumed that revolution could succeed only when its supporters were able to modify the legal order. This conviction is crystal-clear when he claims that, even though “the social superstructure is rooted in … economic foundations,” so that the former depends on the latter, nonetheless “any given system of economic relationships will require political and social forms to develop all that is inherent in it.”Footnote 60 This means that the “social forms” constituted by law will in turn influence their material basis: “the law” Laski specified, “will define the property-relations that correspond to its implications,” in order to give shape to—and perpetuate—their historical substance.Footnote 61 “Revolution is the capture of the state by those who cannot find the satisfaction of their demands within the legal postulates maintained by the state at any given time,” and such capture of the state-power is aimed at the “re-definition of its legal postulates in order to effect a response” to those demands that the supporters of revolution deem satisfactory.Footnote 62 Revolution, from this point of view, is the process of transforming the relations of production by means of revising what Marx regarded as their “legal expression,” namely the “property relations.”Footnote 63
Moving from this conclusion, it seems easy to grasp the subtlety of the difference between counter-revolution and reaction, which Laski set in opposition to revolution: counter-revolutionaries, as shown above, aim to preserve the relations of production, but pursue this end by trying to “adapt capitalist society to the conditions of modern technology,” whereas reactionaries and conservatives indulge essentially in “nostalgia for ancient forms” and “tradition.”Footnote 64 For Laski, therefore, counter-revolution shares the means but not the ends of revolution, as it seeks to maintain the existing material relations by modifying superstructures, whilst reaction is the attempt to preserve both the economic structure and the superstructure.
5. Democracy, revolution by consent, and the withering away of the state
Laski’s thesis that legal and political institutions are the instruments by which revolution can succeed leads to the problem of the method to effect revolution. This problem is twofold, as it concerns both the question of what kind of institutions should be used to perform revolutionary actions, and—most importantly—the problem of how those institutions ought to be brought into play to reach that end. We need to deal with the latter problem first, as it relates to the taxonomy of revolution by force and revolution by consent.
As mentioned above, Laski considered ex hypothesi both the possibility of ‘violent’ revolution and that of a consensual or ‘constitutional’ one, which appear to have equal theoretical dignity in his conception: they both serve as a change in productive relations.Footnote 65 When effected by force, however, revolution shows at least one relevant flaw: it would solely produce a government of the proletariat whose habits would be “fatal to the emergence of the regime Marx had ultimately in view,” as it would ultimately “identify its own private good with the public welfare” and, in the long run, only provoke middle-class resistance.Footnote 66 Indeed, according to Laski: “Every argument … which justifies a communist revolution justifies also a Fascist revolution.”Footnote 67 Therefore, the only way out of this violent spiral seems to require “alternative means” by which Socialist ideals might finally come to realization.Footnote 68
The alternative promoted by Laski was that of constitutional revolution, as the instruments provided by a “constitutional tradition … will often prevail over factors which make for violence.”Footnote 69 In fact, he claimed that only when a system of government, or—which is equivalent—a legal order, is accepted “by persuasion” rather than “by force” may its victories be “enduring.”Footnote 70 This idea paves the way to the thesis of revolution by consent, which moves from the assumption—Laski, indeed, assumes this fact with little demonstration—that “loyalty won by the give and take of freedom is more likely to be lasting as a foundation” than that won by “fear.”Footnote 71 Revolution, therefore, when attained by consent, will most probably lay permanent and durable foundations for the new order, because it implies the attempt to obtain active consent—the free and uncoerced allegiance—of the individuals involved.Footnote 72 This, of course, would entail for the working class the need to “win the support of the large and powerful middle class,” even though (and Laski is aware of it) such a social group will tend to “fight rather than accept the measures of its opponents.”Footnote 73
The strategy of consent is a crucial stage in Laski’s reasoning about democracy, which is unmistakably described as the main institutional system by which revolution should come to pass.Footnote 74 Democracy, in Laski’s thought, is the means Socialism and Labour need to adhere to in their pursuit of a new set of productive relations, and for this reason is incompatible with capitalism in the long run.Footnote 75 To demonstrate this incompatibility thesis, Laski first identified two faces of the democratic principle: political democracy, on the one hand, is the older meaning, and refers to the shape and functioning of a system of government based on equal rights to vote;Footnote 76 social democracy, on the other hand, implies striving for substantive, material, or economic equality, which requires affirmative governmental intervention and a “share in power” for the lower classes.Footnote 77
According to Laski’s historical account, capitalism could rise and enact its own legal order by leaning on the claims of political democracy, which gave birth to capitalist democracy.Footnote 78 However, the virtuous combination of capitalism and democracy started cracking as soon as the emerging working classes found that they could use democratic procedures to satisfy their own needs.Footnote 79 When it became clear that Socialism was jeopardising the foundations of the existing order, capitalist bourgeoisie resorted to the ‘outlaw’, i.e., fascist movements, to attempt a counter-revolution and save capitalism—even at the cost of erasing democracy.Footnote 80 Democracy, therefore, is for Laski part of that conflict where orders run a race to win the allegiance of the multitude, and finds its political meaning in the dialectic of revolution and counter-revolution.Footnote 81
Laski’s thesis that social democracy is the key to classless society leaves the door open for at least two objections to his theory of revolution. The first objection concerns the relationship between democracy and the Marxist thesis of the withering away of the state.Footnote 82 In fact, Laski’s praise for the democratic method assumes that democracy should survive the occurrence of revolution, which means that a system of power might still be at work in its aftermath. The reason for this thesis clearly lies in Laski’s reading of Marxist political theory, according to which:
The State which withers away does not leave men in a relationship of primitive discreteness. It is the capitalist State as the organ of exploitation that disappears, and, with it, the habits engendered by the capitalist State. The regulations which take their place are built upon consent instead of force; and since, to the communist, force and the State are synonymous, he feels justified in speaking of its obsolescence.Footnote 83
Laski, therefore, conceived the withering away of the state as the end of one kind of political and legal institution, whereas another system of law and power—however different from the previous one—seems to him the obvious or natural consequence of revolution.Footnote 84 As the capitalist state is, for Laski, an essentially coercive institution which claims sovereignty over individuals and other groups,Footnote 85 the ‘regulations’ that follow its end should be performed by consent. Footnote 86
The idea of preserving democracy as a method of government is, at least apparently, in contradiction with the Marxist traditional approach. It was not only Marx himself who refused to admit that parliamentary revolution could be deemed a proper ‘revolution’:Footnote 87 other renowned scholars of historical materialism, such as Lenin and Lukács, also ruled out the possibility that the existing political and legal order, whether democratic or not, could be maintained after the completion of revolution.Footnote 88 Democracy, be it capitalist or socialist, is part of the state-order and, at least according to the discourse of Marxism, must be destroyed along with the state.Footnote 89 However, a distinction must be drawn between Marx’s conception of democracy and his critique of parliamentarianism. In fact, Marx disapproved of the use of parliament as a way of liberating the forces of production precisely because, during the early nineteenth century, elections in most European states were infrequent, and the extension of the right to vote was broadly determined by “the economic interrelations of the voters.”Footnote 90 He was convinced, however, that the democratic ideal might be of profitable use in the struggle for the transformation of productive relations, provided that “really democratic institutions” be implemented.Footnote 91 Marx’s thesis is, in fact, that the “state” should disappear “in the now accepted political sense of the word,”Footnote 92 namely its essentially repressive nature, which means that revolution might establish a ‘state’ in another sense, endowed only with its “legitimate functions” allowing the people to act “for itself by itself.”Footnote 93
The second objection that may be raised against Laski’s theory concerns the theme of consent. If revolution can actually result from the voluntary agreement of the parties (i.e., the conflicting classes), then the progress of history and the development of humanity is no longer a matter of forces and objective material conditions, but rather a matter of individual will.Footnote 94 The theory of revolution by consent, therefore, underlies a reading of dialectics which is purely voluntaristic and—unlike Lenin’s revolutionism, which is also voluntaristicFootnote 95 —apparently jars with Marx’s scientific look at the objective premises of the crisis of a mode of production, which can hardly be limited to the singular and punctual attitude of individuals.Footnote 96 Laski, nonetheless, is persuaded that the social classes, especially the bourgeoisie or middle class, may consent to their own “rubbing away,” or at least to their “loss of power” (although theoretically they mean the very same thing), and in so doing put an end to class conflict.Footnote 97
6. Concluding remarks: the subject of consciousness and legal transformation
As shown above, Laski’s interpretive attempt is doubtlessly flawed, compared to what might be deemed a correct reading of Marx and the Marxist tradition. However, he undeniably put forward a series of assumptions and conclusions that provide interesting stimuli to discuss the theory of revolution, on one hand, and some of the most relevant interpretations of Marxist dialectics, on the other hand. Laski offered a reading of Marx’s philosophy and Communism as an intellectual and practical striving towards the realisation of freedom. In his last decade, he defined the “essence” of freedom as “the ability to exercise continuous initiative,” requiring “agreement on fundamentals in the society,” without which that initiative might be “restrained or suppressed” by the state.Footnote 98 What sets Marxism apart, accordingly, is therefore the belief in “an organisation which has grown out of acceptance of … law from below.”Footnote 99 This is what, for Laski, the “leap” to the “realm of freedom” seems to comprise.Footnote 100
The first problem with Laski’s conception of post-revolutionary, or classless, society is that, on closer inspection, such society is still class-centred: the only feature that Laski definitely pointed out as to the outcome of revolution is the end of social conflict and, therefore, the ceasing of any need for coercion.Footnote 101 Social relations, however, might still presuppose a system of production driven by “necessity” and “mundane considerations.”Footnote 102 For Laski, ‘liberty’ meant the freedom to participate in—and take over—the existing process of production.Footnote 103 Upon closer inspection, however, such an interpretation shows that there is continuity between the original Marxian theses and Laski: In fact, the realisation of the realm of freedom, in Marx’s theory, presupposes the realm of necessity, since it assumes the persistence of the sphere of production. Freedom, therefore, is—and can only be—internal, rather than external, to the unextinguished performance of necessity.Footnote 104
Laski’s theory of revolution by consent seems instead affected by concrete operative problems, as its basic assumption is that the foundations of the political system should be revised peacefully by competing factions. This is supposed to happen within a political, social, and legal discourse which is determined and shaped by the interests of one faction rather than the other. Therefore, whatever debate or negotiation may take place between those classes, it will be inherently one-sided, as those who are invited to lend their consent are the same ones who control the political and legal superstructure. This means that, by rendering allegiance to a negotiated set of principles, the dominant class may, at best, absorb and assimilate the subjected one under its own perspective. However, it seems hard to envision a situation in which, once they have rendered their consent to the new order, the members of the middle class will necessarily refrain from withdrawing it.Footnote 105 In this view, Laski’s assumption that the outcome of a consensual revolution is more durable than that of a violent one appears both logically and historically disputable. Nevertheless, the argument of revolution by consent is particularly relevant to interpret the attitude of British Socialism (and mostly Labourism) to Marxism and the theme of revolution, whose principles were adapted and reduced to fit the limitations of parliamentarianism.Footnote 106
Moreover, Laski’s idea that revolution involves individual consent seems to have significant implications as to the opportunity to rediscuss some traditional interpretations of Marxian dialectics. In particular, it upholds the argument that the Marxist conception of history deems the individual—rather than the class— as the one and only subject of history.Footnote 107 This, however, appears hardly compatible with Marx and Engel’s famous claim that portrays history, or “the history of all hitherto existing society,” as “the history of class struggles.”Footnote 108 Moreover, according to Marx and Engels, it is crucial for the class struggle, as it “nears the decisive hour,” that this historical movement be comprehended theoretically “as a whole”: in actuality, it is the proletariat as a “revolutionary” class, and not the proletarians as revolutionaries, who moves “the wheel of history.”Footnote 109
The problem that Laski’s individualistic Marxism touches is, therefore, one of class consciousness, and it raises the question of who the subject of the historical process is. It is well-known that Marxist theorists often provided divergent answers.Footnote 110 On one side there are collectivists—or, so to speak, ‘totalists’—such as Lukács, who drew attention to “concrete totality” as the “category that governs reality,” thus emphasising the Hegelian legacy in Marx’s thought.Footnote 111 For Lukács, then, class consciousness is a stance that considers the class as its object, and yet has the class as its subject, too.Footnote 112 On the opposite side stand theorists like Althusser, who interpreted Marx’s conception by devising dialectic history as “a process without a subject,” implying “the notion of a subject is an ideological notion.”Footnote 113
Neither of these interpretive strands seems to allow for a reading like the one promoted by Laski: In fact, the thesis that revolution should cling on to individual will arising from the process of production is in radical contradiction to the idea of the class as a subject. However, if we admit that the category of ‘subject’ is part of the ideology that must be eliminated, then this process can depend even less on individual ‘subjective’ intentions and acts. There might, nevertheless, be room for a conception of the individual as a subject of history in the Marxist discourse. Marx himself, in fact, apparently drew attention to individual positions, even when he believed that it was necessary to consider productive “relations as a whole.”Footnote 114 One relevant instance, then, needs to be taken into account in this regard: the well-known distinction between “class as against capital” (which identifies the “common situation” that a number of individuals share in the process of production), and “class for itself” (which occurs as soon as that mass of individuals “becomes united” and their interests “become class interests”), depends on an event taking place in the minds of those individuals.Footnote 115 After all, it is the individual class-members who need to be aware of the objective situation they share, in order for that ‘class’ to be a ‘class for itself’, endowed with class interests and class consciousness. Therefore, even though class consciousness objectively addresses the class as a whole, it may be argued that such ‘consciousness’ is subjectively ascribed to the individual, who might as well develop and dismiss it, and by doing so contribute to, or alternatively impair, any revolutionary process.
It is rather uncertain whether Laski envisioned this connection between his theory of revolution by consent and the problem of class consciousness, as he only made quick reference to “revolutionary class consciousness,” adding the plain observation that “in the modern time” this situation seems far from plausible.Footnote 116 Nevertheless, his emphasis on the role of the individual may encourage reflection on how fragile class—or, generally, group—consciousness may be in a political scenario where the existing order tends to separate and particularise individual agents.Footnote 117
The impact of these remarks on the legal discourse should be envisioned in its dramatic consequences on the possibility of transforming the legal order. In fact, if we deem revolution the ultimate dynamic form of the law, as was argued in Section 1, it follows that such a particularisation of the subject is bound to impair any chance of transforming the legal order on a radical ground, as it prevents revolutionary change by annihilating class consciousness. This means not only the sanction of a capitalist economic-material system in its current state, but also the utter obstruction of a dialectic movement in the history of law, which means perpetuating the existing legal construction of class relations of domination and hierarchy. From this point of view, therefore, a Marxist reading of the relation of revolution to the law seems useful to understand the deep intertwinement between the position of the subject and the possibility of modifying the politico-legal order in contemporary times.
Acknowledgments
I am grateful to Professors William Clare Roberts and Lorenzo Milazzo for their comments and advice concerning my research and previous versions of this paper, as well as Antonello Dettori, who helped me with its linguistic proofreading.