Letters from Tomis

An ongoing series of reflections of my thoughts on historical materialism after reading What is Marxism: An Introduction into Marxist Theory by Rob Sewell and Alan Woods. The thoughts, opinions, and any errors are mine alone.

It was Karl Marx who illuminated the transition from feudalism to capitalism not as some benevolent evolution of human freedom but as a profound transformation in systems of exploitation. This shift—from the serf tied to the soil to the wage worker shackled by necessity—has often been romanticized by liberal historians as a step toward liberty and agency. Yet a sober, historical materialist lens reveals that the exploitation of the wage worker differs in form, not in substance, from that of the serf, and that the former, far from abolishing bondage, perfected it under the guise of freedom.

The Serf: Exploitation by Obligation

Under feudalism, the serf was bound to the land, a condition as immutable as the soil beneath their feet. They owed their lord a portion of their labor, their produce, and even their offspring’s future toil. In return, the lord offered protection—though it might be more accurate to call it a thin veneer of security from external threats, including the lord’s own greed. The serf was not “free,” but neither was their exploitation cloaked in the illusory rhetoric of choice. It was an explicit social contract, enforced by a rigid hierarchy and underwritten by religious doctrine. The serf’s existence was one of bare subsistence, their labor a communal act bound by the rhythms of the agricultural calendar.

Consider, for instance, the medieval manor in 13th-century England. Here, the serf labored on the lord’s demesne (land reserved for the lord) for a set number of days per week. The rest of their time was spent on their own meager plots, a system that ensured their survival but also rendered them perpetually vulnerable to famine, war, and disease. The serf’s exploitation was visible, tangible, and ultimately circumscribed by the limits of feudal production.

The Wage Worker: Exploitation by “Freedom”

With the advent of capitalism, the chains of the serf were struck off, but not to free them; rather, they were forged anew as the invisible hand of the market. The wage worker, unlike the serf, is ostensibly “free” to sell their labor power. But this freedom is as hollow as it is cruel. The wage worker is not tied to the land but to the marketplace, a domain no less arbitrary and exploitative. Here, necessity, rather than obligation, drives their exploitation.

Let us turn to the quintessential example of the Industrial Revolution in 19th-century Britain. The rural peasant, displaced by enclosure laws and the mechanization of agriculture, became the urban proletarian, selling their labor in factories for a pittance. In Manchester, the cradle of industrial capitalism, wage workers toiled for up to 16 hours a day in unventilated textile mills, their lives reduced to the mechanical repetition of tasks. Unlike the serf, who at least worked for their own survival part of the time, the wage worker’s labor produced surplus value appropriated entirely by the capitalist.

It was here that the exploitative genius of capitalism revealed itself: the wage worker, ostensibly free to choose their employer, was in practice coerced by economic necessity. Unlike the serf, the wage worker did not even have the illusion of a reciprocal relationship. The capitalist had no obligation to provide sustenance, housing, or community; these were now commodities to be purchased with the very wages that barely sustained the worker.

A Shift in Ideology

The ideological superstructures that justified these forms of exploitation are equally revealing. The feudal system relied on religion, with the church upholding the divine right of kings and lords. The serf was taught that their station was ordained by God, and obedience was not merely pragmatic but salvific. Capitalism, by contrast, deploys the myth of meritocracy and the fetish of the individual. The wage worker is told that they are free agents, capable of upward mobility through hard work. This myth, as potent as any religious dogma, masks the structural inequalities that keep the worker in perpetual subjugation.

Historical Examples of Resistance

Resistance to these forms of exploitation also illuminates their differences. The peasant uprisings of medieval Europe, such as the English Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, were driven by demands for relief from feudal dues and the arbitrary power of lords. These revolts were localized, episodic, and often brutally suppressed. By contrast, the wage worker’s resistance has taken more systemic forms: the Chartist movement in Britain, the Paris Commune of 1871, and the rise of trade unions and socialist parties in the 19th and 20th centuries. These struggles, though often crushed or co-opted, reflect the global and collective nature of capitalist exploitation.

Conclusion

The transition from feudalism to capitalism did not abolish exploitation; it refined and concealed it. The serf’s chains were overt, physical, and inescapable, tied to the land and the lord’s dominion. The wage worker’s chains are more insidious, disguised as freedom and self-determination, but no less unyielding in their grip. Both systems are rooted in the appropriation of surplus labor, but capitalism’s brilliance lies in its ability to mask exploitation as choice, thereby ensuring its reproduction.

The historian who gazes fondly upon the wage worker as a liberated figure misunderstands history and, more dangerously, underestimates capitalism’s capacity to perpetuate oppression. To critique one system while romanticizing the other is to miss the essential continuity of exploitation across historical epochs. It is to Marx we owe the clarity of vision to see through such illusions—and it is to us to continue the struggle against them.