The October Revolution, which took place on November 6 and 7, 1917, according to the Western calendar, was one of the most pivotal events in world history. For the first time in history, one of the world's largest nations was to not only establish a republic but also end the era of private ownership of the means of production and the soil and build a completely classless society. In "A Sixth of the World"—the proud title of a 1926 Soviet film by Dziga Vertov that celebrates the Soviet Union's achievements and showcases its diverse peoples—socialism was to prevail, and a "new man" was even to be created.

It was an experiment that failed, yet it shaped the history of the 20th century like no other and remains a subject of debate to this day: Was it doomed to fail from the start? Was the price of the undeniable, gigantic successes of this vast empire too high? At what exact point did it take a wrong turn?

Nietzsche would likely have chosen the first answer—and conversely, he was, to put it mildly, not exactly the most popular philosopher in the Soviet Union. He was considered a bourgeois reactionary and a mastermind of fascism; his writings were removed from libraries and censored, and academic engagement with his work was virtually impossible. At the same time, individual motifs of his philosophy lived on in revolutionary culture, in literature, and in the vision of a "new man"—often without ever mentioning his name.

In this two-part series, Ukrainian philosopher Vitalii Mudrakov provides an overview of the reception of Nietzsche in the country where he was born, which has long since ceased to exist. The first part examines the official attempts to censor Nietzsche's thought and interpret it solely through the lens of Marxist-Leninist ideology. The second part will focus on the unofficial, subversive reception of Nietzsche.

Karl Marx and Friedrich Nietzsche are often contrasted as the two great thinkers of the 19th century. The opposition between their views is evident: on one side, the critic of all class societies, schooled in Hegel; on the other, the critic of "slave morality" who drew on Schopenhauer and considered exploitative conditions to be indispensable. On one side, the sharp analyst of the capitalist mode of production, who dissected it with surgical precision over hundreds of pages in his magnum opus Das Kapital; on the other, the aphorist who thought while strolling, for whom economics was at best a peripheral topic.

Time and again, there have been attempts to bridge these contradictions and create fruitful symbioses between Marxism and Nietzscheanism. Yet there are also voices, particularly among those Marxists who rely heavily on Hegel, that emphasize the fundamental incompatibility of the two approaches.

This two-part series presents both less successful and more compelling Nietzsche interpretations by such "Hegel-Marxists," while simultaneously asking whether and how critique is possible between such philosophically divergent positions.

We begin with Georg Lukács and Hans Heinz Holz. The Hungarian philosopher Lukács lived from 1885 to 1971 and is considered the founding father of Hegel-Marxism as a philosophical movement. Hans Heinz Holz (1927–2011) was a student of Lukács’ former friend and later rival Ernst Bloch, and is counted among the most influential representatives of Hegel-Marxism in the second half of the 20th century.

The second part features an examination of the extensive "intellectual biography" of Nietzsche written by the Marxist historian Domenico Losurdo.

After our author, in the first part of this article, described the current political-cultural situation with reference to Fukuyama as an outgrowth of deep-seated boredom, which numbs itself in excesses of anger and indignation, he tries in the following second to suggest a possible turn for this zeitgeist, which could manifest itself in a new Enlightenment verve and a new positive self-image of the Enlightenment. Our author, with Nietzsche, opposes the “four despairs” that afflict the present tense, “four transfigurations” and “fields of research” resulting from them. An ironic view of the world and oneself should help to practice a transfigurative perspective on the world, which would be able to overcome the lethargy of postmodernism and revitalize the modernist project. The program of self-reliant future Enlightenment.

After two previous contributions to Nietzsche in the Anglosphere For this blog, Henry Holland interviewed American thinker Daniel Tutt about his perspective on Nietzsche as the most important antagonist of the left. The discussion included Huey Newton, leader of the Black Panthers in the 1970s, and what his “parasitic” way of reading Nietzsche prompted him to read. An unedited and unabridged version of this interview, in original English, can be heard and watched on Tutt's YouTube channel (link).

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Nietzsche's best-known formulation, according to which God is dead, not only shows an anti-religious thrust. In particular, it points out that in modern times, constitutive self-evident elements no longer have traditional validity. As the cultural understanding of truth has faltered, not only has this or that truth become questionable, but the understanding of what truth actually is. This puts enlightenment under pressure to find the questions to which it should be the answer. It is this abyss of uncanny questionability from which Nietzsche's thinking attempts to show ways out that are viable. In the first part of his text Enlightenment Twilight Michael Meyer-Albert talks about the clarified doubts of the Enlightenment about itself.

Nietzsche has repeatedly become the subject of political interpretive projects, from left and right. Nietzsche and Marx was seen time and again as a double team of a concept of comprehensive emancipation beyond the well-trodden paths of dominant left-wing political trends. In his book How to Philosophize with a Hammer and Sickle. Nietzsche and Marx for the Twenty-First Century and in countless YouTube videos, Jonas Čeika updates this perspective for our time. For Nietzsche PopArts, Henry Holland addressed the question of what to think of this approach.

In the series “What does Nietzsche mean to me? “ over the next few weeks, our regular authors will each present their personal approach to Nietzsche and his thinking. Our senior editor Paul Stephan makes a start and reports on how he discovered Nietzsche as a teenager — and no longer necessarily sees himself as a “Nietzschean.”