Class conflict, as Marxists preach it, must be taught. Workers do not spontaneously see themselves as historical agents of class war. Would workers automatically rise up merely because monopolies exist? No.
In a genuine free market, coercive monopoly cannot exist. Monopoly, properly defined, is an exclusive privilege granted by the state. Without state protection, market dominance remains contestable.
Even in a statist environment—where taxes, inflation, and regulation distort the economy—workers do not interpret their condition as “class oppression.” Quite the contrary, their only demand is that the machinery extracting from them be operated by enlightened and well-intentioned personnel.
Interpretation requires a theory. Marxism did not emerge organically from factory floors; it had to be constructed, systematized, and disseminated. It must be taught in schools, universities, and newspapers. In this division of labor, intellectuals provide the interpretation; the masses provide the numbers. But class analysis did not begin with Marx.
Long before Marx, classical liberals had already identified class conflict. Ironically, Marx owed his very framework of class struggle to these thinkers. Where Marx saw exploitation in voluntary exchange, they located it in political privilege. The distinction was simple: Those who live by production versus those who live by plunder.
What makes liberal class analysis compelling is its grounding in direct observation: taxation, regulation, court favoritism—concrete acts of political violence. Marx’s “surplus value,” by contrast, is not something a worker sees; it is inferred from a labor theory of value, which, in turn, rests on an elaborate but unsound theoretical apparatus.
This analysis is also limited in scope. It does not claim that all history is class struggle, nor does it reduce religion, art, philosophy, and science to mere epiphenomena of economic position. Once it is understood that most live by production and others by political plunder, little more remains to be explained in terms of class.
This refusal to totalize is not a trivial stylistic choice. At the level of individual experience, life is not lived as class struggle; absent ideological conditioning, individuals think in concrete terms: “my employer,” “my house,” “my family.” They do not think in terms of “the historical dialectic of the proletariat.”
After Marx, the dividing line shifted. The enemy was no longer the state. It was the bourgeois as a class. Wage labor became exploitation. Ownership of capital—even when peacefully acquired—became oppression. Voluntary relations became suspect.
In classical liberal class analysis, the state is the oppressor; in Marxist class theory, it is the instrument of emancipation—provided, of course, it is controlled by the “right” class. Marx elevated class struggle into a totalizing philosophy of history: “The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.”
Once exploitation is defined as a feature of voluntary exchange rather than coercive privilege, the solution is no longer to limit political power but to weaponize it, redirecting resentment away from the state and toward peaceful market relations. This is not merely a theoretical adjustment.
When the dividing line is production versus coercion, liberty is the logical end. When the dividing line is labor versus capital, coercive power becomes the logical instrument. And that is a profoundly dangerous redirection.
