Márkus,our contemporary

In 2018, on the second anniversary of György (George) Márkus’s death, his ex-students from Sydney held a commemorative symposium. The occasion was to honour the ongoing legacy and contemporaneity of a philosopher and teacher who had so profoundly shaped those taught by him in the Philosophy Department at the University of Sydney. The breadth, diversity, scholarly detail and critical impulse of the papers collected in this volume testify to the continuing influence of the ‘Márkus effect’.

Márkus’s oeuvre exemplifies the best potentials of critical social theory. As he puts it, this is a tradition committed to ‘the general idea that one has to find in contemporary reality itself – and not some system of atemporal norms and values – the foundation of the principles of its own critique and the potential of its transcending’ (Márkus, 2011: 600). His meticulous examinations of philosophical works in the continental tradition were ever prepared to pierce the smooth surface of a text, expose its fissures, tarry with ambiguity, and even leave questions unresolved once the labour of analysis had brought the work to a breaking point from which it could express opposed powers of social reality, and shed light on the perplexities of the present moment.

In this memorial number of Thesis Eleven, doctoral students supervised by George over more than four decades pay tribute to his scholarship, generosity, and unflinching critical style. We train our attentions on George’s own body of work, from a debate with Jürgen Habermas, and treatments of Aristotle and Adorno, to Márkus’s original theory of cultural modernity. As Paul Jones notes, ‘it was Márkus who taught me the significance of immanent critique so I’m hopeful he’d appreciate the irony, as well as the homage’. We examine the pertinence of Márkus’s main areas of interest to the present and bring his insights to bear on contemporary questions concerning cultural production, the constitution of justice, how critical theory may reckon with right-wing demagogy and respond to an unfolding environmental crisis.

There are two exceptions to this grouping of students. First, the short opening of the Symposium by Márkus’s youngest son Andras, Special Counsel to the Attorney-General’s Department, Australian Government Solicitor, who spoke about his sense of moral responsibility to maintain and preserve the relevance of his father’s work. Secondly, a paper by Janos Kis, who was previously a student of Márkus in the 1960s and later a colleague.

While Professor Janos Kis refers to Márkus as an older brother, Honorary Professor Paul Redding (Philosophy, University of Sydney) conjures a much more intimidating intellectual power in Márkus. Students in Sydney experienced a trial by fire when they presented their work for his forensic critique. Redding analyses his own intellectual split between the influences of Márkus and the work of Richard Rorty. Honorary Associate Professor John Grumley (Philosophy, University of Sydney) spotlights a little-known debate between Jürgen Habermas and György Márkus. Habermas argued that the Marxian paradigm of production was obsolete in the light of his own proposal for a ‘communicative turn’ in contemporary critical theories. Honorary Professor Arthur Glass (Law, University of New South Wales) takes up Aristotle’s categorical distinction between praxis and poesis. If this distinction gains meaning only in a specific social and cultural context, what does this tell us about another famous Aristotelian distinction, namely, between two types of justice: corrective and distributive? What is the orienting role of this distinction in accounts of justice based on Kantian right and accounts based on Rawls’ principles of justice? Does Márkus suggest a way forward?

Associate Professor Paul Jones (Reader in Sociology, Australian National University) again puts the breadth and depth of Márkus scholarship on display. Jones spars with Márkus’s characterization of Adorno’s culture industry fragment as a fatal ‘circle of manipulation and retroactive needs’ (Márkus, 2011: 616). He then draws upon Márkus’s own requirements for the viable use of the Marxian production paradigm in the domain of culture to excavate another Adorno. This is a version of Adorno sensitive to sociological particularities and wary of forms of demagogic manipulation that have seen a resurgence in recent times. Associate Professor Robert Sinnerbrink (Department of Philosophy, Macquarie University) deftly reconstructs the contemporary critical potential of Márkus’s theory of cultural modernity. He examines how Márkus’s late works move towards dissolution of the absolute distinction between high culture and mass culture. However, he wonders whether Márkus goes far enough. Cannot his theoretical framework of cultural modernity also account for recent scepticism directed at expert culture more generally? The challenge that Sinnerbrink throws down assumes pressing significance in the final paper in this collection, by Dr Harriet Johnson (Department of Philosophy, University of Sydney). Johnson enlists Márkus’s original conceptual topography of the arts and sciences as co-ordinated cultural spheres to work through the demands of the Anthropocene, a new phase of earth history, where social interventions have become a bio-geological force. To adapt and respond to emerging planetary dangers requires the collaboration of scholars from many different disciplines. Yet Márkus confirms that when we look to major sites of cultural reflection, we find that neoliberal predations are more likely to produce narrative dislocation. Imaginative collaborations in the arts and sciences only intermittently spill over into everyday thinking to enhance the insights of public discussion.

The assembled papers bear witness to how Márkus transformed the lives of many of his students and set their intellectual course in explorative new directions. He also played a significant role in the early days of Thesis Eleven. A number of Hungarian colleagues who wanted to contribute to this Sydney event were unable to come. Colleagues, friends and students in Budapest were robbed of over two decades of George’s teaching by his ‘political exclusion’ from Hungarian intellectual and cultural life after 1974. To suggest something of George’s complete philosophical life and achievement, we would like to make some connection between the two phases of his teaching life: Budapest and Sydney. We offer an intimate memorial fragment from Janos Kis, Professor of Philosophy at the Central European University in Budapest:

Those who read from the works of George Márkus know that he was a philosopher of some significance. But only those who were able to spend time with him know that he was also a great intellect. The close presence of a great intellect is uplifting but can also be a source of pressure. George’s presence was never that. Although his superior intellect was obvious, he never made those around him feel this. He always approached his students – us – with great kindness and loving attention. Therefore, we didn’t simply regard him as our master – because he was not simply a teacher, but a Master – but also our older brother. It is difficult to talk about this in the time available to us, therefore I would rather relate a strong memory of mine.

One evening in the winter of 1963/64, we left the Pesti Barnabas street building of the Arts Faculty together, Márkus and some of his students.…There was a great snowstorm and the traffic came to a standstill. We marched from the Uni to the Pest-side bridgehead of Margit bridge. All the while, George was explaining things, and we were putting in our ten cents worth.…George as if at the lectern talks with the inevitable cigarette in his hand, his head held a little to one side and forward. He kindly ushers our comments into their proper place. His uncovered head is crowned with snow, but he doesn’t notice. The conversation does not want to end. I do not recall when it finally finished. For me, this scene depicts that the discourse between the master and his pupils, between the older and younger siblings, can never be over. He is no longer. But as long as there will be one of us who were his students, the conversation will continue. (December 2016)