“Look at Stirner, look at him,

the peaceful enemy of all constraint.

For the moment, he is still drinking beer,

soon he will be drinking blood

as though it were water.

When others cry savagely

‘down with the kings,’

Stirner immediately supplements

‘down with the laws also.’

Stirner full of dignity proclaims;

you bend your will power,

and you dare to call yourselves free,

You become accustomed to slavery;

‘Down with dogmatism, down with law.’” [3]

“Three things above all caused the personality of Stirner to so completely escape the eyes of his contemporaries and those following. The first is found in the great seclusion and quiet in which he with the exception of a few years-spent his life.” – John Henry Mackay

Introduction to a Man’s Haunting of His Own

There is perhaps no one of significance that has been as forgotten by history as the German philosopher, Johann Kaspar Schmidt – better known by his nom de plume Max Stirner (big forehead). Famous for his work on the liberation of the Unique from idealistic conceptions above it, termed “spooks”; he would ironically lead a quiet, ghostly life until his premature death in 1856. His ideas circulated further only by his critics, who would in turn cease to carry his memory past the mid-nineteenth century, until another individualist in John Henry Mackay would take it upon himself to revive his memory through the ruthless search for anything the dead man had written. However, through the evaluation of Stirner’s life, one cannot help but question the existence of the man himself. Was he truly, for the lack of a better word, “real?” Some point to inconsistencies in the world of Johann Schmidt, as evidenced by the epitaph on his grave reading not his real name. Certainly documents existed to verify his presence in history? Surely the web of connections he had with Die Freien (a group of free thinkers) alone prove that the man was no spectre? And one would be correct in saying such, but a more possible explanation of the nature of the man called “Stirner” takes its place in history. Though it cannot be denied that “Stirner” released many works under his name, it can be presented that Max Stirner was not the pen name of anyone named Johann Kaspar Schmidt – rather that of another German Philosopher, Friedrich Engels. The following examination of this line of thinking will take place knowing that there are only two large sources of first-hand details about Stirner: his works and responses from other thinkers (principally related to the Young Hegelians), and documents from his life uncovered by John Henry Mackay.

Part I: Masques Contra Criticism

Friedrich Engels, Marie Dähnhardt, and Others of Hippel’s

“At any rate it remained the only circle that he ever joined; in it he found the company that he needed, and many had the impression that he felt himself drawn to it more from this sociability than because of an inner intellectual community. This last assumption gains in probability if we remember how sensitive he was even in regard to appearances. As we have seen, this circle was suited like no other to bring informally before him all those personalities in whom he must have taken the greatest interest because of their views.” – John Henry Mackay

Max Stirner is estimated to have appeared at Hippel’s Wine Bar sometime between 1841 and 1842, but remained a stranger for the most part [8]. “He definitely belonged to the narrower circle. He was good friends and well known to the Bauers, especially Bruno, and to Buhl, Meyen, Engels, Rutenberg, Mussak, and others. With most of them he used the familiar address “Du.” He had a special relationship with C. F. Koppen and Hermann Maron, as well as with Dr. Arthur Muller. Stirner, as was already expressed, was really intimate with none of them. The way he first came into contact with the circle cannot be said with certainty. Did it happen through Bruno Bauer himself, whom he may have met already as a student? Bauer too had sat at the feet of Hegel in 1827. Did his first works bring about a closer acquaintance? Or was it rather through the intellectuals themselves that he was first led to take up his pen in collaboration on the same journals?” The narrow circle was the closest many came to actually meeting Stirner, and this came to be the most “social” epoch of his life. By January 1842, Stirner would publish his first known works, “the essay on Bruno Bauer’s Posaune and the Gegenwort.” These would, in addition, only be the beginning of a series of short but enriched works that would cease upon his fade into obscurity. However, it is also entirely possible that he had published the two essays before “appearing” at Hippel’s in spite of the fact that some descriptions of a person presumed to be Stirner are around. This is due to the overall conspicuous nature of said individual. “As loud and noisy as it usually was at Hippel’s, just as quietly did Stirner keep a low profile. Very seldom did he take part in passionate discussions, and he never became cynical, trying to outdo others who were speaking. One never heard from him a vehement, raw, or even vulgar word, such as were no rarity at Hippel’s. Calm, smiling, “comfortable” as a “hedonist,” he sat there in the turbulent circle, threw in now and then a pertinent remark or a witticism, which showed how exactly, in spite of everything, he was listening to the general conversation, and watched the smoke from his cigar.” If one were to counter that he seemed to be a very specific kind of person, they would be met with an inconvenient truth. “So much has been reported anecdotally about the round table, so few words of correct appreciation have been found for it. And yet, so many sat there, probably about a hundred, and each passed-even if often only a few-hours of stimulation in it, heard free and therefore good words, and left not poorer than when he came, unless it was in ‘ideals.’” The sheer size of the group alone disqualifies ease in sorting out people regardless of any bit of uniqueness as such would more likely be withstood in favour of a more vague distinguishing aspect. There may have been plenty of people who kept a “low profile,” refrained from vulgarity, and threw out the occasional witty remark. Thus, Stirner in-himself cannot be confirmed to have been present at Hippel’s before a specific time that will be elaborated on later.

But first, it is necessary to assess some other members of Die Freien, particularly those who truly “knew” Max Stirner. And no one knew him better than his second wife, Marie Dähnhardt. Most notable of her was a vehement disliking that she took of Stirner later in life. When John Henry Mackay attempted to interview her, she replied with simple words [8]. “In one she said that Stirner had been too selfish to have true friends – it is not necessary to go further into this point, since this is done later. In the second, on the question of Stirner’s character, she found only the one expression: he was ‘very sly.’” This attitude can most likely be attributed as a by-product of Stirner’s milk-shop debacle. “Stirner’s new project was a dairy business, and it was to take the remainder of his wife’s fortune. Whether this was his own idea or his wife’s is debatable, as is also the point in time in which it was put into practice. In all probability it was considered already in the spring of 1845 and came into being in the summer of the same year. What the few, inexact, and very contradictory reports relate about this curious enterprise, which to many appeared as a joke and yet was intended so desperately seriously, is to be described here… Thus this enterprise of Stirner also failed, after it had offered inexhaustible material for mockery to the Hippel crowd, whose wounded guild-consciousness again showed itself on this occasion despite their otherwise extensive freedom from prejudice-and it ate up the fortune of his young wife. The very last desperate attempt of Stirner appears to have been aimed at seeking his luck in the stock market. He at least questioned an acquaintance in great detail about the kind of transactions there, and was strongly advised against any attempt. The poverty that up to then had only knocked, now threateningly stood in its whole distressing form in the door of the house.” If one were to take Mackay’s words to heart, it would be rather easy to deduce that the milk-shop was not bought in 1845, but around two years earlier. The enterprise was, in addition, not Stirner’s or even in his name, but under Marie’s. It was she who carried out operations. It was she who took the insults that the Hippel’s crowd threw. And it was she who was thrown into the embarrassing circumstance of poverty. However, the failure of the store was not as quick of a process as some assume. Rather, it failed gradually and caught the attention of Ms. Dähnhardt. Stirner fits in quite easily when one ponders on something simple; “when she says that she had ‘never respected or loved’ Stirner, then certainly the question appears justified, for what reason did she marry him then, since certainly no one had forced her or even talked her into it?” The answer is to avoid greater ridicule than she already suffered. After her purchase of the store in early 1943, Engels likely approached her later in the year with a proposition she could not refuse, to become a key aide in his Stirnerite circle. However, it is well known that more is written about Stirner’s wedding than much of the other events of his life. This is easily dismissed when one realizes that it “is not quite easy, since the assertions and memories are sharply contradictory. For, as is the way with anecdotes that stay the longest in the memory of most people, carried from mouth to mouth, they also take on in each person a somewhat changed form, so as finally to be something almost foreign to their former reality.” Moreover, she would refuse to be interviewed by Mackay, likely out of respect for Engels’s attempt to hide her failure and due to the will to hide the failure itself. Thus, it can be said that Marie is the first piece of the Stirner hoax.

This is furthered only through the exposure of Friedrich Engels’s motives, the first of which is simply his will evade significant attention from the state for views that could have possibly been too radical for the Prussian state to stand. “The Berlin that Engels encountered in 1841 was fast turning into a civic monument to the Hohenzollern dynasty.” [4]. Although, his socialist endeavors were public, they were not in any way unusual. But the reception of such a thing as egoism was hard to trace before-hand. Exemplifying this, German censors were rather non-uniform and slow to ban the book across the nation, mostly due to their confusion of its nature. Which is to say, it could have been far worse than it had turned out. Stirner, or rather Engels, was lucky to avoid more serious actions, such as deportation, as the actual result of publication could not have been predicted too well in retrospect. On the whole, the persona was an easy way of criticizing people he saw frequently (notably Bruno Bauer) but wished to keep friendlier relations with. But it would evolve into a more effective tool later on.

This would evolve into the manifesto of egoism itself, Der Einzige und sein Eigentum. The news of which was spread around Hippel’s, likely through the aid of Dähnhardt (likely notified by telegram/mail) and others, in order to keep alive the mystery of Stirner – this is especially due to the fact that Engels lived in Manchester between 1942 and 1944 [4] [8]. However, a meeting in Paris would not only alter the course of the book, but also the entirety of the future of political theory.

“Sankt Max” and the Verbosity of Marx

“When Stirner entered the circle of ‘Die Freien,’ cannot be said with certainty. It may have been in the middle or end of 1841, because he did not know Karl Marx, who had left Berlin at the beginning of this year.” – John Henry Mackay

Marx and Engels met in 1944 in the city of Paris, although they corresponded earlier and were aware of each other’s ideas [2]. In Marx, Engels found a like-minded individual, but also a sea of obduracy. Engels gained another incentive to write Stirner’s magnum opus, the will to master the stick. At the time, each had a great deal of influence from the already famous Ludwig Feuerbach, to the point where they could be considered his disciples [4] [9] [8] [10]. However, Engels was more critical of Feuerbach than Marx was, and such would show in Der Einzige und sein Eigentum. It was this, in addition to Marx’s following of Feuerbach, that caused his obvious inclusion in the book as a major polemic target. But to inspire Marx to stray from perhaps the greatest Young Hegelian to not have been a part of Die Freien, Engels needed to enlist in the help of another great influence on Marx, Bruno Bauer. The two thinkers incurred a schism in 1843 and such a strain contained its fair share of hostilities [10]. Therefore, after hearing of the situation from Marx, Engels realized the legend of “noble” Max could be significantly more credible if Bruno Bauer were an additional witness to his presence. Bauer was not a strong target in the book, and even came to respect it more than the works of the other Young Hegelians. This is just one self-evident factor of Bauer’s inclusion. In Der Einzige und sein Eigentum, Bauer would also make large gains. With Bruno likely came Edgar (and a whole host of people from Stirner’s inner circle for that matter), another “close friend” of Max Stirner [8]. From this, likely arose further rumors of a significant book written by a frequenter of Hippel’s, providing that “Stirner” only truly appeared at the bar around 1843-44. The situation is in spite of the publication of the infamous polemic against the Bauers, The Holy Family, although Engels stated that he “wrote barely 1½ sheets” [4]. This additional instance provides yet another piece of evidence to point out Engels’s lightening of criticism, especially in relation to earlier Stirner’s earlier pieces that started with two essays critiquing Bruno Bauer. Thus, the foundation was laid for a lasting image of Max Stirner.

In order to get Marx to read Stirner’s book, Engels took actions that were very indicative of his intentions. A letter addressed to Marx in early October read, “… it’s clear to me that considerable obstacles will continue to be placed in the way of my return to Paris, and that I may well have to spend six months or a whole year hanging about in Germany; I shall, of course, do everything I can to avoid this, but you have no idea what petty considerations and superstitious fears I have to contend with.” [2]. The reason for his stay at Germany was clear, he needed to publish Der Einzige und sein Eigentum and stick around to answer responses, as evidenced in the publication of Stirner’s Critics – exposing three people who were missing from Engels’s Circle in Feuerbach, Szeliga, and Hess [8]. The last of whom unknowingly became a key figure in getting the book to Marx because Engels would get Marx, said person’s copy [5]. But even before this, Engels spoke of Stirner quite glowingly, referring to him as “the noble Stirner” and stating, “… it is certainly true that we must first make a cause our own, egoistic cause, before we can do anything to further it — and hence that in this sense, irrespective of any eventual material aspirations, we are communists out of egoism…” [2]. However, he did add in a few small qualms such as the will to be “human” instead of an “individual” in order to appease Marx.

The culmination of these events would of course be the creation of The German Ideology, in which, as usual, Engels played second fiddle to Marx (at least in terms of the critiques on Bauer and Stirner) [4]. The entirety of the book was riddled with relentless satire directed at Stirner, or “Sankt Max,” and the Young Hegelians. But the damage had been done in exposing Marx to Stirner’s ideas. Principally, Marx came to reject Feuerbach’s humanism and a great deal of Left Hegelianism directly because of Stirner’s work [3]. Though it is disputed, Stirnerite ideas came to shape the transition from a young Marx to a wiser Marx. Having accomplished what he sought out, Engels slowly abandoned the persona of Max Stirner unless it became somewhat needed. Only three more publications were produced after the book that would define egoist thought for ages to come, Stirner’s Critics, the Philosophical Reactionaries, and the History of Reaction. To further this decline/downplay, he would commonly tend to exclude Stirner’s name in the influence of Marx, instead opting to provide a contrast with Ludwig Feuerbach.

Part II: An Excavation Twice Removed, Long Overdue

A Critique of Mackay’s Monopoly

“Stirner did not owe his rebirth to a professional philosopher.” – John Henry Mackay

Before Mackay’s great undertaking, no one seemed to care for Stirner outside a remote selection of individuals. His initial exposure to our dead friend is said to have been through James L. Walker, who wrote a many articles on egoism and Stirner between 1886 and 1887 [7]. Such an impression was made on the man that he spent a decade of his life gathering information that could be compiled into a biography – one that would serve as the basis for nearly all life details of Max Stirner to date. The cause for this devotion requires a few assumptions backed by Mackay’s personal/secret life.

As a pederast, he did not seem to fit well with his peers for obvious reasons and published his ideas on the topic under the name Sagitta [6]. His outlet took shape as staunch individualism and self-acceptance to the degree that he truly embraced egoism. In a letter to Benjamin Tucker (a close friend) in May 11, 1908, he would say “I am very glad, to hear, that I can hope, to see you here even sooner as I dared to dream. The aspect, to see you every year from now is a great joy to me. Tell your sweetheart too, that I shall be very glad to see her here, and the little anarchist she will bring with her. But I wish, that you tell her, before you come, exactly, who I am. I have decided now, to break off all old acquaintances, who don’t care so much for me, that they do not learn to understand my love as I try to understand theirs; and I will not make any new ones (more intimates, of course) who join the common judgment without judging for themselves.[7]” The restraint he exercised in keeping these inner desires at bay may have well reaffirmed his support of individualism and self, with its greatest propagator being Max Stirner.

Recognizing the polarizing Der Einzige und sein Eigentum as a necessity to the advancement of a system of liberation for himself, it can be reasonably concluded that his motivation lay not out of the search for knowledge, but in the exposure of radical, mostly forgotten texts. However, this was clearly not a very facile task. Mackay would state “… the work I had undertaken was in truth much more difficult than I had suspected. With the arrival of the first, sparse answers it was already clear to me that only a careful pursuit of every trace in every direction would make it at all possible to make my way in the maze in which this life lay hidden. Not only a deep discouragement, but also a great disappointment gripped me, as continuing to press forward, I became more and more convinced how simply and uneventfully this life had been lived. I had expected something extraordinary in it and did not find it! Must such a great life not also have been rich in exterior, great events? I still did not understand it. [8]“ Such a labyrinth at times would require large leaps in faith. Many facts just could not be “found” as represented by the lack of setting for the marriage of Stirner’s parents.

What is more suspect than plain uneventfulness is little Johann’s unusual upbringing. His father died when he was two and his mother would succumb to madness, eliminating a bit of an area that could have been possibly investigated [8]. Further, his mother was at a point his only living relative. Stirner had no siblings by natural means but did acquire siblings by marriage [9]. The circumstances of details likely also hint at the clever work of Friedrich Engels’s wordplay. Stirner’s father, Johann Schmidt, for instance is Anglicized as the all-too-common John Smith; Johann Kaspar is alsoWa a reference to a patrionymic family name that was notably worn by his grandfather [4] [8]. His mother, Sophia Elisabetha bares resemblance to Engels’s own mother, Elisabeth von Haar. The nature of Stirner’s parents most likely found themselves in the hands of Mackay through various documents kept from publication by Engels in the name of Stirner’s trivial works, disclosing such similar trivial information. However it is wholly possible that Mackay may have drawn from a “real” Schmidt family – in this case childless – to, in a sense, humanize Stirner. Even with this benefit of a doubt, other factors of his life were just logically near impossible to derive after so many years without outright fabrication or the work of Engels. Not all of these shall be covered, but those that are more lucid will be presented.

Although reportedly spending seven semesters at the University of Berlin and some time in Erlangen (nullified), university documents are nowhere to be referenced to substantiate such [8]. Especially if sought today, the necessary evidence cannot be attained due to the sheer disasters of the last century. In key areas of his text, Mackay claims Stirner underwent examinations in 1935 under such well-established scholars as Adolph Trendelenburg and August Meineke [8]. Any letter, any document whatsoever from these people could prove Max Stirner to be real, and statements are indeed provided by the author. The issue, however, is that outside of Mackay’s biography, neither ever mentioned a Johann Kaspar Schmidt or Max Stirner. After his studies, he would supposedly fail to get into state school and instead began teaching at a “well-founded” private school for girls – the existence of which is questionable to the extent that it’s not easily tracked without the mention of Stirner [8] [9]. This last bit is essentially an area of lesser detail but requires the same examination as Stirner’s professors. With no true family by the mid-to-late 1830s, Johann Schmidt would go on to marry Agnes Burtz, the bastard niece of his landlady [8]. Not much is known of her outside of this and she too would “conveniently” leave Schmidt’s world of the living, though the question is whether they ever inhabited said world to begin with.

But if one is to still argue such things as the sheer intricacy of Mackay’s description of Stirner’s life, they will be met with the simple fact that all roads lead to him. What we know of Stirner to detail is from his decade long trek. However, he neglected to provide a key necessity to the full acceptance of Max Stirner as a real person. “I hesitated for a long time, whether I should add the so-called ‘sources’ to the results of my research. I refrained from doing it. First, because I do not believe that the thoroughness of a work must be demonstrated through such an ad oculos [exhibit], and second, these countless notes, interrupting the text and burdening its pages excessively, would simply have put the readability of the book into question. For some pages not only every sentence, but often every word in a sentence would have had to be provided with such a “note,” and the size of the book would almost have been doubled. To provide these notes in a new appendix, however, would have meant forcing me to break the text in an ugly way with countless numbers. [8]” The reasoning Mackay provides seems rather sound, but it still does not excuse the absence of his sources. A simple abstention in direct citation paired with the publication of each document used could have easily sufficed. If John Mackay were concerned with the teaching of the true Max Stirner, he would have done so – or something to the effect – but instead chose to sell his “library” to the government of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics [7]. Today, these are still not easily accessible to the public and warrant a great deal of suspicion as to the validity of many of John Mackay’s claims.

Furthermore, as a bit of a side note, Mackay seemed to have a rather strange attachment to Max Stirner. For a time, he “was in possession of Stirner’s skull ’which he secured during the foundational work for the gravestone, but since it was not acquired entirely legally (by a gold piece to the mason!) he showed it to hardly anyone and even spoke of it unwillingly.’” [1] [7]. According to Mackay in a letter to Benjamin Tucker in August 28, 1925, “The skull did [sic] years ago in other hands here in Germany. But the Bolchevists have everything else – got it for a lump, because nowhere in the whole world else was the least interest for Stirner and my work for him. You have known for years my plan – and you never asked for details. I never thought, you could help me. Now it is too late. My annuities are lost, probably for ever, in this country, where everything is fraud and robbery in the most shameless fashion. Now I am in big trouble with that house. But let us better tease [i.e., joke].” Though he points to a history of ownership over the skull and references his illegal acquiring of it, he fails to expel the spook of property from his mind. At the same time, such a necessity in confirming the skull to be Stirner’s is missing. But Mackay was not the only person who was overzealous in relation to Max Stirner as his sources gave equal amounts of exaggeration and idealization. Hans von Bülow, for instance, supposedly claimed to have met Stirner. However, his mental state in the time that he possibly spoke to Mackay was more than questionable; he would speak of how “… he could no longer tell whether white was black or black was white. He was overcome by a nervous twitch…” [12].

Review of Max Stirner and the Union at Hippel’s

Through the careful consideration of academic objectivity, it cannot be denied that Max Stirner was no more than a clever device concocted by the great Friedrich Engels, raising the question of why he himself should be placed below Marx. After all, the impact he had on Karl Marx’s ideas were not exactly of minutiae. The inclusion of separating him from Feuerbach propagates this further and establishes Engels as the brilliant mastermind behind perhaps the most influential modern day hoax. The small circle of individuals he involved equally deserve credit in such an undertaking that structured the early history and creation of dialectical materialism. Further, the entire nature of Engels’s actions have led to a greater confirmation of the integration of egoism and communism. One cannot exist without the other. “Common ownership only maximizes individual autonomy if every individual involved has equal power over the property, through this every individual has the ability to control the means completely by themselves if they wish. Common ownership can no longer be ruled by the spooky idea of the collective, it is now a mutual trust among those who create it; that mutual trust being that we are going to work together to provide this for ourselves, and one of us isn’t going to purposely ruin it.” [11].

Regardless of these “bright spots,” the obvious question of the implications on Max Stirner remain. Should he now be forgotten simply as he is but a “spook?” Or rather, should this serve to give us an even greater understanding of his philosophy? Who are we to praise a ghostly author, as many have done in the present – propping up icons of Stirner and engaging in borderline worship – and the past – best seen in the almost obsessive quest of John Henry Mackay? The question of a book written to espouse apparitions by a spectre itself brings us to the reality that Stirner’s mindset cannot be conceived of as an ideology but as a status of personal achievement in eliminating all forms of abstract oppression to the self. Moreover, the author’s nature of being a hoax does not negate his ideas, but should rather lead to the conclusion that even if Der Einzige und sein Eigentum was not written, egoism would remain as the sub-conscious internal flame positing divinity, humanity, filiality, morality, etc. into the receptacle in which they need be kept in.

Works Cited:

1) Dobe, F. (1987). John Henry Mackay als Mensch. Koblenz: Ed. Plato. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

2) Engels, Friedrich. The Collected Works of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. The Collected Works of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels. Letters 1844-1895. InteLex Corporation, 2001. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

3) Green, Alexander. “Stirner and Marx.” Non Servium, 1992. Retrieved July 2, 2018.

4) Hunt, Tristram. Marx’s General: The Revolutionary Life of Friedrich Engels. Metropolitan Books, 2010. Retrieved July 1, 2018.

5) Jones, Gareth Stedman. Karl Marx – Greatness and Illusion. Harvard University Press, 2016. Retrieved July 1, 2018.

6) Kennedy, H. C. (2002). Anarchist of Love: The Secret Life of John Henry Mackay. San Francisco: Peremptory Publ. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

7) Mackay, J. H., & Kennedy, H. C. (1991). Dear Tucker: The Letters from John Henry Mackay to Benjamin R. Tucker. San Francisco: Peremptory Publications. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

8) Mackay, J. H. (2005). Max Stirner: His Life and His Work. Concord, CA: Peremptory Publications. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

Edition Revised by Hubert Kennedy

9) Mclellan, D. (2014). The Young Hegelians and Karl Marx. Place of publication not identified: Palgrave Macmillan. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

10) Rosen, Zvi. Bruno Bauer and Karl Marx: The Influence of Bruno Bauer on Marx’s Thought. Martinus Nijhoff, 1977. Retrieved June 27, 2018.

11) Rowan, D. Z. The Anarchist Library, 2017, A Brief Description of Egoist Communism. Retrieved July 2, 2018.

12) Walker, Alan. Hans Von Bülow: A Life and Times. Oxford University Press, 2010. Retrieved June 30, 2018.

(If you’ve made it this far and are still not aware, it’s a prank, bro.)