Progress is measured neither by the fleeting dominance of one power bloc nor the ephemeral calm of a temporary truce. True progress is the expansion of human emancipation, the liberation of productive forces from the fetters of exploitation. It is measured by the degree to which humanity collectively overcomes the material conditions that necessitate class division and the resultant misery of the many for the profit of the few. We shall see genuine progress only when the laborer is no longer a commodity and the fruits of their labor are enjoyed by all.
Power, yes, but not in the vulgar sense of crude domination or the brute force Marx extols in his "productive forces." Progress, if the word must be suffered, is measured by an *enhancement* of the will, a higher affirmation of life, a daring creation that transcends the herd's timorous desire for security and comfort. Peace is merely the stillness of the graveyard, the absence of that vital tension which breeds greatness. To speak of progress in terms of the laborer's emancipation is to mistake the cure for the disease, to seek to level the peaks and fill the valleys, all for the sake of a more uniform, and thus more mediocre, existence.
The question of progress – whether by power or by peace – arises from a misunderstanding of the Way. True progress is not a gain of strength or the stillness of quiet, but a return to the uncarved block, a state of effortless being. Power, as understood by men, is like a sharp sword, cutting and wounding, ultimately diminishing the hand that wields it. Peace, in the manner of a stagnant pond, breeds complacency and eventual decay.
Nietzsche speaks of an "enhancement of the will," yet even the strongest will, when set against the flow of the Dao, exhausts itself. The sage knows that by *not striving*, one achieves more. Consider the water that wears away the stone; it does so not through force, but through persistent yielding. This is the essence of progress: to cease the anxious pursuit of external validation and instead cultivate inner harmony, allowing the natural unfolding of existence. Marx's notion of emancipation through overcoming material conditions is a noble aspiration, but it still seeks to manipulate the world, to impose order from without, rather than recognizing the inherent order that arises from within when one ceases to interfere.
Progress is not to be found in the abstract pursuit of either power or peace, but in the clear-sighted understanding and mastery of the latter as the instrument of the former. War, in its essence, is a violent assertion, a means by which a political object is pursued when other means have failed. To speak of progress solely in terms of military might is to mistake the hammer for the architect’s plan; power is a tool, and its value lies entirely in its directed application towards a rational end. Conversely, a peace born of weakness is merely the prelude to subjugation, not genuine progress.
Marx’s vision of emancipation, while framed in terms of overcoming material conditions, still operates within a framework that necessitates struggle and, often, violent upheaval to achieve its ends. This is precisely why war, as an inherent manifestation of these struggles, must be understood not as an aberration, but as a continuation of policy. Nietzsche’s emphasis on the will, while capturing the dynamism of conflict, risks glorifying mere expenditure of energy without regard for the ultimate political purpose that gives it meaning. The true measure of progress, therefore, is the successful articulation and execution of policy through the effective, and judicious, employment of force, or its demonstrable absence, as dictated by the statesman’s will and wisdom.
Nietzsche mistakes the will to power for the engine of progress, and Clausewitz mistakes the *instrument* of war for the *measure* of its success. Genuine progress is not the glorification of struggle, whether the individual's will or the state's policy, but the abolition of the conditions that *necessitate* such struggle. The "productive forces" I speak of are not crude tools of domination, but the accumulated capacity of humanity to transform its material world. When these forces are unleashed from the private ownership that confines them, transforming laborers into wage-slaves, they can finally serve the collective good. This is the material basis for an end to exploitation, not a mere leveling, but a profound transformation of society itself.
To accept Marx's "emancipation" as progress is to embrace the triumph of the herd-animal, a triumph of mediocrity secured through leveling. His "productive forces," when wrested from private hands, become merely the organized apparatus of collective weakness. Clausewitz, for all his clarity on war's purpose, remains entangled in the very pursuit of political ends that generates the suffering he analyzes. Progress is not the abolition of struggle, for struggle is the salt of life, but the affirmation of one's own power to overcome, to *become more*, even in the face of ultimate annihilation. The truly *great* are not those who achieve peace through the absence of conflict, but those who, through their own will, impose their will upon existence, leaving an indelible mark.
Nietzsche’s “will to overcome” and Marx's “emancipation” both grasp at something beyond mere stillness, yet both remain tethered to the human desire for control. The Dao does not *will*; it *is*. Water does not overcome the mountain by forcing it, but by flowing around and through it, patient and persistent. Progress, then, is not the exertion of power, nor the abolition of struggle, but the quiet understanding that by yielding to the natural current, one moves with the greatest efficacy. Consider the reed that bends in the gale, surviving while the mighty oak snaps. That is true mastery, not a gain of strength, but a profound alignment with what is.
Laozi speaks of yielding, and Nietzsche of overcoming. Both miss the fundamental reality that war is not an end in itself, nor a state of being, but an instrument. True progress is measured by the statesman's capacity to wisely choose the *kind* of war best suited to his political object, recognizing that the "productive forces" Marx champions will invariably be marshaled and directed by those same political wills. When one fails to grasp this, as Laozi’s vision of passive yielding might imply, one risks being overwhelmed by an opposing will that *does* understand the utility of force. The peace that follows such a failure is no progress, but a defeated quietude.