Letters from Tomis

To consider Rosa Luxemburg’s interpretation of Marxism without addressing the labor theory of value would be akin to discussing Hamlet without acknowledging his madness—an act not merely incomplete but deeply unserious. The labor theory of value, far from an incidental quirk of Marxian economics, forms the sine qua non of Luxemburg’s revolutionary critique. Indeed, Luxemburg did not merely echo Marx’s thoughts but amplified and sharpened their edges, crafting from them tools potent enough to dismantle the capitalist edifice she so fiercely opposed.

Luxemburg understood, perhaps better than most contemporaries, that the labor theory of value represented not a dry economic abstraction, but a profoundly moral critique of capitalism. At its core lies the assertion that value—the true, material heartbeat of any economy—is created through labor alone, through the sweat, ingenuity, and toil of workers, rather than through speculative ventures, rent extraction, or the sleight-of-hand of financial wizardry. Thus, Luxemburg recognized in Marx’s formulation not merely a theory of economic relations, but an explosive charge placed beneath the very foundations of capitalism.

Marxism, as Luxemburg perceived it, derives its revolutionary potency precisely from its insistence on labor’s primacy. By framing value as something derived solely through human endeavor, Luxemburg crystallized Marx’s critique into a moral imperative: if workers create value, then workers alone deserve its rewards. Here lay Luxemburg’s unyielding insistence on democratic socialism, where the producers themselves—laborers, artisans, and industrial hands—must also become society’s directors and beneficiaries.

In her masterpiece, “The Accumulation of Capital,” Luxemburg demonstrates that capitalism inherently depends upon a parasitic relationship, continually drawing fresh lifeblood from external sources of cheap labor, new markets, and colonized peoples. Without this perpetual outward expansion, capitalism would inevitably collapse under the weight of its own contradictions. The labor theory of value thus emerges not merely as an analytic tool, but as a clarion call to solidarity and internationalism, linking workers across the globe in a shared struggle against exploitation and oppression.

Yet, Luxemburg was no economic determinist; she did not believe that capitalism’s end was mechanically assured by history. Instead, she maintained that the moral clarity offered by Marx’s theory was essential for galvanizing revolutionary consciousness. Workers needed to see clearly that their labor—and not the entrepreneur’s supposed ingenuity—was capitalism’s true source of value. Only by understanding their central role in the economy could they grasp their potential power to dismantle and transform it.

Hence, Luxemburg’s defense of the labor theory of value is deeply intertwined with her commitment to revolution and democracy. For her, Marxism was not mere economic prognostication, but a profound ethical project dedicated to human emancipation. To reject or dilute the labor theory of value, Luxemburg would insist, is to strip Marxism of its revolutionary heart, leaving behind nothing but an academic husk—a lifeless theory unworthy of struggle.

In this, Rosa Luxemburg teaches us a critical lesson: the labor theory of value is not simply one pillar among many supporting Marxism; it is the moral compass by which revolutionaries must navigate if they are ever truly to challenge the unjust and exploitative world built upon capitalism’s shifting sands.