We are publishing here a response to the analysis drafted by Emma Goldman (1869-1940) in the first years after the October 1917 revolution. After her expulsion from the United States in January 1920 she spent two years in Russia, then published three books:[1] “I consider then, and still consider, that the Russian problem is entirely too complex to speak lightly of it”, she wrote in the introduction to her first book. We are responding to Emma Goldman because she was a central figure of the revolutionary workers’ movement in the United States at the time of the First World War. Because of her determination to defend a clearly internationalist position against the war she was nicknamed “Emma the Red - America's Most Dangerous Woman” by the American ruling class. But there are two other reasons to examine Goldman's positions in more detail. On the one hand, her important influence in the anarchist and anarcho-syndicalist milieu up until today – “the Rosa Luxemburg of the anarchists”; and on the other because her early analysis of the Russian Revolution and the problems it faced shows great honesty and responsibility. Today, although we do not share at all some of her positions, Goldman's efforts are a valuable contribution to the understanding of the degeneration of the Russian Revolution.
Goldman, an anarchist of Russian origin, was inspired by the theories of the influential anarchist Peter Kropotkin, but defended an anarcho-syndicalist position in her activity. She clearly rejected marxism as a political and theoretical orientation. What distinguished Goldman from Kropotkin was her determination, along with Malatesta, Berkman, and others, in February 1915, to take a firm stand against the “Manifesto of the Sixteen”, whereby Kropotkin and other anarchists debased themselves by their shameful approval of the First World War. Goldman defended a clear internationalist position condemning any participation, support or tolerance of the war, thereby providing an internationalist point of reference in the United States.
Our aim in this article is to examine Goldman’s political assumptions regarding the Russian Revolution, her experiences and conclusions. To anticipate: Goldman's observations, underpinned by a deep proletarian instinct, and her significant advances, must in our view be distinguished from some of her central political conclusions. In order to allow sufficient insight into Goldman's position, it is necessary to include long quotations. Since it is not possible to address all aspects of her analysis, we are forced to make a selection and so urge a direct reading of her writings on the Russian Revolution and her autobiography.
Goldman was constantly preoccupied with two questions: the fusion of the Bolsheviks with the state apparatus and its consequences; and her own self-laceration over the moment that would allow or even force her to expose her criticism of the Bolsheviks – which she eventually did after months of painful hesitation. We cannot address here Goldman’s other political concerns, like the “red terror”, the Cheka, Brest-Litovsk, Makhno’s movement in the Ukraine, the Razvyorstka (the relentless requisition of food from the peasants, which therefore includes the relationship between the working class and the peasantry), the catastrophic situation of children[2] or her position regarding the workers' councils. However, her experiences and analyses of the Kronstadt uprising in March 1921 are important because they signified Goldman's break with the Bolsheviks.
The outbreak of the October Revolution filled her with great enthusiasm: “From November, 1917, until February, 1918, while out on bail for my attitude against the war, I toured America in defence of the Bolsheviki. I published a pamphlet in elucidation of the Russian Revolution and in justification of the Bolsheviki. I defended them as embodying in practice the spirit of the revolution, in spite of their theoretic Marxism.”[3]
In 1918, in the anarchist magazine Mother Earth, she published an article entitled “The Truth about the Bolsheviki”:
“The Russian Revolution can mean nothing to him unless it sets the land free and joins to the dethroned Tsar his partner, the dethroned land-owner, the capitalist. That explains the historic background of the Bolsheviki, their social and economic justification. They are powerful only because they represent the people. The moment they cease to do that, they will go, as the Provisional Government and Kerensky had to go. For never will the Russian people be content, or Bolshevism cease, until the land and the means of life become the heritage of the children of Russia. They have for the first time in centuries determined that they shall be heard, and that their voices shall reach the heart of, not of the governing classes – they know these have no heart – but the heats of the peoples of the world, including the people of the United States. Therein lies the deep import and significance of the Russian Revolution as symbolised by the Bolsheviki (…) The Bolsheviki have come to challenge the world. It can nevermore rest in its old sordid indolence. It must accept the challenge. It has already accepted it in Germany, in Austria and Romania, in France and Italy, aye, even in America. Like sudden sunlight Bolshevism is spreading over the entire world, illuminating the great vision and warming it into being - the new life of human brotherhood and social well-being.”[4]
So Goldman's view of the Bolsheviks in 1918 was anything but negative. On the contrary, her defence of the Russian Revolution and of the Bolsheviks was a highly responsible reaction to the American bourgeoisie's campaign of lies and its role in the brutal, internationally coordinated campaign against revolutionary Russia. Her radical criticism after two years in Russia was always motivated by the intention of defending the October Revolution against its external enemies, as well as against internal degeneration; this was the main concern of her activities and writings.
Two brief quotes impressively illustrate the change in Goldman's assessment of the evolution of the Russian situation. She describes her arrival in Petrograd in January 1920 in exuberant terms: “Soviet Russia! Sacred ground, magic people! You have come to symbolise humanity’s hope, you alone are destined to redeem mankind. I have come to serve you, beloved Matushka. Take me to your bosom, let me pour myself into you, mingle my blood with yours, find my place in your heroic struggle, and give to the uttermost to your needs!”[5]
But then, two years later, as a final description of her stay in Russia, we find the following: “In the train, December 1, 1921! My dreams crushed, my faith broken, my heart like a stone. Matushka Rossiya [Mother Russia] bleeding from a thousand wounds, her soil strewn with the dead. I clutch the bar at the frozen window-pane and grit my teeth to suppress my sobs.”[6]
“It was just one year and eleven months since I had set foot in what I believed to be the promised land. My heart was heavy with the tragedy of Russia. One thought stood out in bold relief: I must raise my voice against the crimes committed in the name of the Revolution. I would be heard regardless of friend or foe.”[7]
What happened between her arrival in 1920 and her departure two years later? And was her disappointment exclusively the result of a naive expectation overtaken by reality? We will return to this second question at the end of the article.
Goldman rightly attaches great importance to the question of the encirclement of the Russian Revolution, which, according to her, was a real cause of the difficulties of the first years of soviet rule. But, as we will show later, she speaks little of its political isolation as due to the fact that the world proletariat had not been able to take power in other countries, which was the essential question, and which did not allow the important errors of Bolshevik power to be corrected.
In her book The Crushing of the Russian Revolution written in 1922, Goldman stresses from the outset how the encirclement of Russia stifled the revolution and that the situation of a world war created the worst conditions for the revolution.
“The march on Russia began. The interventionists murdered millions of Russians, the blockade starved and froze women and children by the hundred thousands. And Russia turned into a vast wilderness of agony and despair. The Russian Revolution was crushed and the Bolshevik regime immeasurably strengthened. That is the net result of the four years conspiracy of the imperialists against Russia.”[8]
The internationally coordinated war against Russia resulted in a brutal strangulation. It would be very erroneous not to take this tragic situation into account in the analysis of the degeneration and failure of the Russian Revolution. Goldman constantly evokes it in her personal experiences; for example she describes the terrible situation resulting from the ruthless starvation of Russia and its consequences for millions of children in 1920-21, a situation further aggravated by the scheming of many state bureaucrats to enrich themselves. On this issue, despite all her harsh criticisms, Goldman defended the Bolsheviks' efforts to improve the situation of the children:
“It is true that the Bolsheviki have attempted their utmost in regard to the child and education. It is also true that if they have failed to minister to the needs of the children of Russia, the fault is much more that of the enemies of the Russian Revolution than theirs. Intervention and the blockade have fallen heaviest upon the frail shoulders of innocent children and the sick. But even under more favourable conditions the bureaucratic Frankenstein monster of the Bolshevik state could not but frustrate the best intentions and paralyse the supreme effort made by the communists on behalf of the child and education (...) More and more I came to see that the Bolsheviki were trying to do all they could for the child, but that their efforts were being defeated by the parasitic bureaucracy their state had created”[9]
So, concretely, she describes what were called the “Dead Souls”[10]: names of children who had already died and were registered on the lists of those entitled to food rations by the lower bureaucracy, who then diverted these fraudulent rations for their own consumption or to sell for themselves; all this to the detriment of hundreds of thousands of starving children, the most vulnerable victims of the asphyxiation caused by the international blockade!
Goldman cannot be reproached for having analysed the decline of the Russian Revolution without taking into account the decisive and deadly situation of its isolation in Russia. She also attempted, as is shown by the quotes from her texts, to distinguish between the Bolsheviks and the state bureaucracy, to which we will return later.
Her weakness lies rather in the absence of a clear analysis of the fact that the war and the blockade against Russia were only possible because the working class, specifically in western Europe, was progressively defeated, particularly in Germany. The working class in western Europe, and also in the United States, was confronted with a much more experienced bourgeoisie and a more sophisticated state apparatus than in Russia. But it is not only the defeat of the international revolutionary wave that produced the desperate situation of Russia; it is also the backwardness of the international working class compared to Russia.
In Germany, the attempted revolution only began more than a year after October 1917, which left a long time free for the strategy of Russia's isolation, as shown in the months following the negotiations at Brest-Litovsk. The seizure of power by the proletariat in the central states of western Europe was the only way to break the strangling of the Russian Revolution and put a stop to armed intervention. It is only possible to understand the roots of the defeat of the Russian Revolution by examining precisely the international balance of forces between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie; this aspect appears only occasionally in the writings of Goldman, barely developed, and which leaves the impression that the fate of the revolution was sealed mainly on Russian soil.
The isolation and strangulation of Russia after October 1917 in no way explains every aspect of its internal degeneration, which was ultimately the most traumatic experience for the working class, nor should it serve as justification for this internal degeneration. With regard to the problem of the Bolsheviks’ catastrophic errors, in particular their policy of identification with the state apparatus, it is crucial to see that this could only have been corrected under the influence of a victorious revolutionary working class in other countries, which was tragically not to be the case.[11]
On closer inspection, there is a contradiction in Goldman's central theses about the relationship between the international situation and the causes of the degeneration of the Russian Revolution. On the one hand she writes: “All my observations and studies over two years gave me the clarity that the Russian people, if not continuously threatened from without, would have soon realised the danger from within and would have known how to meet that danger (…)”.On the other hand, however: “If there was ever a doubt as to what constitutes the greatest danger to a revolution - outside attacks or the paralysed interest of the people within - the Russian experience should dispel that doubt completely. The counter-revolutionists, backed by Allied money, men and munitions, failed utterly (...)”[12]
As we have already said, Russia’s isolation must in no way serve as an excuse for its errors. But Goldman draws a curious conclusion in which she contradicts all her “observations and studies” quoted above: the salvation of the revolution depended essentially on the forces and politics of the working class in Russia, the international situation becoming for her a much more secondary factor. Goldman develops a logic here that reminds us of Voline, without however going so far;[13] she presents the defeat of the Allied counter-revolutionary forces as proof that the counter-revolution had been a perfectly surmountable obstacle for the revolution, which is shockingly simplistic when you consider the huge damage caused by the this bloody confrontation,[14] including the deaths of tens of thousands of determined revolutionaries, which Goldman herself had well described. Those conscious revolutionaries who had voluntarily put themselves in the front line in their thousands and fallen in battle could probably have opposed in some way the internal counter-revolution.
These two factors; isolation and strangulation on the one hand, and the errors of the Bolsheviks on the other, were mutually reinforcing. The main difference between them was that the war against Russia was obvious to all, while the internal degeneration began in a much more hidden way, eventually becoming the trauma of the century for the international working class. Goldman's conclusions are, in essence, a common way of taking into account both the question of the external counter-revolution and that of the internal counter-revolutionary degeneration; a problem with which all the revolutionaries of the 1920s were confronted.
One of Goldman's notable contributions to understanding the defeat of the Russian Revolution – even though we do not share her conclusion – is her reflection on the conditions for a revolution during and after a war: “Perhaps the Russian Revolution was doomed at its birth. Coming as it did upon the heels of four years of war, which had drained Russia of her best manhood, sapped their blood, and devastated her land, the revolution may not have had the strength to withstand the mad onslaught of the rest of the world.”[15]
Here she rightly points out the direct result of the war and responds to the false and schematic ideas whereby the crisis automatically aggravates the war and war automatically strengthens the consciousness of the working class, thus leading to the break out of revolution. Goldman emphasises that fundamentally the revolution suffered from exhaustion in Russia resulting from the war itself. But the idea that the fate of the revolution could somehow be “doomed at its birth” shows a fatalistic approach.
An important potential factor must be considered that was not realised. The First World War ended in November 1918, one year after October 1917. As we have already pointed out, the only hope for October was for the revolution to break as quickly as possible in other countries and, above all, for a rapid revolutionary surge in western Europe. This was a historically possible perspective, and the working class had no choice but to engage the struggle in that direction.
The war ended with victorious and defeated countries. If the defeat shook the defeated governments and could, therefore, facilitate their weakening and the revolutionary dynamic, this was not the case for the victorious governments which, on the contrary, were strengthened. In the victorious states where the working class had been painfully dragged to slaughter by the bourgeoisie for four years, it was the aspiration for peace and stability that prevailed and significantly undermined the possibilities for a revolutionary assault by the proletariat in France, Britain, Belgium, Holland and Italy. It was not only the balance of power between the imperialist states that was different after the war, but also the state of mind of the masses who were thus divided according to whether they were in a victorious or vanquished country. Goldman raises the problem of the war which creates poor conditions for the revolution, but she reduces it mainly to the case of Russia itself
What possibilities for change existed in Russia at a time of total encirclement and famine? In the anarchist camp, there were very different opinions on this subject but what was significant was the great expectation of immediate improvements in living conditions, especially in terms of economic measures and the fundamental reorganisation of production. So what were Goldman's expectations at that time, just two years after October 1917? Was she expecting on her arrival in Russia in January 1920 to find a society that already met human needs? At her first meeting with Maxim Gorky, on a train to Moscow, she told him: “I also hope you will believe me when I say that, though an anarchist, I had not been naive enough to think that anarchism could rise overnight, as it were, from the debris of old Russia.”[16]
She describes conversations with Alexander Berkman, her closest political and personal companion for decades, as follows: “He dismissed the charges [against the Bolsheviki] as the irresponsible prattle of ineffective and disgruntled men. The Petrograd anarchists were like so many in our ranks in America who used to do least and criticise most, he said. Perhaps they had been naive enough to expect anarchism to emerge overnight from the ruins of autocracy, from the war and blunders of the Provisional Government.”[17] Goldman did not judge the Russian Revolution by a naive measure based exclusively on the immediate improvement of living conditions and the economy.[18]
On the question of the immediate possibilities of a social upheaval in the interest of the working class and other oppressed layers, like the millions of peasants in Russia, Goldman puts her point of view again in a framework that does not ignore the international situation. Nor did she hesitate to defend the efforts of the Bolsheviks (as we have seen with regard to the situation of children which demanded immediate and drastic action) and to severely criticise the positions of other anarchists. Goldman did not submit to the law of silence and the rejection of any mutual criticism within the anarchist camp. We do not know what arguments she used against impatient anarchists who expected the immediate upheaval of society. But these controversies between anarchists show that there was no homogeneous anarchism in Russia during the revolution.
The question of possible immediate measures to rapidly relieve suffering was of crucial importance for the working class and for the peasantry as a whole, and was not only a theme of the most impatient parties of anarchism, among whom this question often uniquely decided their attitude towards the Bolsheviks. For the working class, revolution is not an abstract historical logic. After decades of brutal exploitation, and having endured the sufferings of the butchery of 1914-1918, the great hopes of a sunrise on the horizon of life were more than understandable and fitting. They constituted an important driving force of the revolutionary conviction and combativity that enabled October. Given the immediate reality of the strangulation of revolutionary Russia, of hunger and the war against the white armies, the expected sun had not risen on the horizon. Hunger and demoralisation weighed heavily on the working class. In this almost desperate situation, Goldman adopted a responsible attitude of patience and perseverance which, with the progressive defeat of the world revolutionary wave after the war and for all revolutionaries could only be maintained with enormous political will and clarity.
In her analysis of the dynamic of the state apparatus in full growth after October, Goldman was totally faithful to her own idea according to which the Russian problem was much too complicated to be explained away by a few superficial phrases. She gave a great deal of attention to this question and distinguished herself by precise observations and reflections. Nevertheless, we absolutely do not share a good number of these conclusions! Her writings contain contradictions on the question of the relations between the Bolsheviks and the developing state apparatus.
In 1922 she was not yet ready to make a profound analysis; this was only possible at the end of the 1920s and the beginning of the 1930s when the Italian Communist Left took up the task. There was no doubt that certain anarchist principles on the question of the state strongly dominated her analyses and the conclusions that flowed from it.
First of all it's indispensable to broadly present Goldman’s vision on the issue:
“The first seven months of my stay in Russia had almost crushed me. I had come with so much enthusiasm, with a passionate desire to throw myself into the work, into the holy defence of the revolution. What I found completely overwhelmed me. I was unable to do anything. The chariot wheel of the Socialist State rolled over me paralysing my energy. The wretchedness and distress of the people, the callous disregard of their needs, the persecutions and the repression tore at my mind and heart and made life unbearable. Was it the revolution which had turned idealists into wild beasts? If so the Bolsheviks were mere pawns in the hands of the inevitable. Or was it the cold, impersonal nature of the state which by foul means had harnessed the revolution to its heart and was now whipping it into channels indispensable to the state? I could not answer these questions. Not in July 1920, at any rate.”[19]
“Yet neither in the conservative not even in the revolutionary sense do the trade unions in Russia represent the need of the workers. What they really are is the coerced and militarised adjunct of the Bolshevik state. They are “‘the school of communism’ as Lenin insisted in his thesis on the functions of the trade unions. But they are not even that. A school presupposes the free expression and initiative of the pupils, whereas the trade unions in Russia are military barracks for the mobilised labour army, forced into membership by the whip of the state driver.”[20]
“I am certain that neither Lunacharsky nor Gorky knew about it [the imprisonment of children by the Cheka]. But therein lies the curse of the vicious circle; it makes it impossible for those at the head to know what the host of their subordinates are doing (...) Does Lunacharsky know of such cases? Do the leading communists know? Some no doubt do. But they are too busy with ‘important state affairs’. And they have become callous to all such ‘trifles’. Then, too, they themselves, are caught in the vicious circle, in the machinery of Bolshevik officialdom. They know that adherence to the party covers a multitude of sins.” [21]
And concerning relations between the state apparatus and its bureaucrats:
“In the village where he [Kropotkin] lived in little Dimitrov, there were more Bolshevik officials than ever existed there during the reign of the Romanov's. All those people were living off the masses. They were parasites on the social body, and Dimitrov was only a small example of what was going on throughout Russia. It was not the fault of any particular individual, rather it was the state that they had created, which discredits every revolutionary ideal, stifles all initiative and sets a premium on incompetence and waste.”[22].
Goldman's observations on the concrete reality of the state very precisely describe how it developed more and more and began inexorably to consume everything. It's to her great credit that she gives a detailed perception of the “daily life” of the bureaucratic apparatus and its profound contradiction with the interests of the working class and other exploited classes. In 1922, her descriptions were highly pertinent faced with all the glorifications circulating in the international workers' movement on the situation in Russia and faced with a blindness towards the problems it confronted. There's no doubt that Goldman’s efforts to warn against the dangers of the state as it was developing in Russia were precious at this time, even if her analysis was based on what she saw and only provisional.
But what conclusions did she draw from it?
“It would be an error to assume that the failure of the revolution was due entirely to the character of the Bolsheviki. Fundamentally it was the result of the principles and methods of Bolshevism. It was the authoritarian spirit and principles of the state which stifled the libertarian and liberating aspirations. Were any other political party in control of the government in Russia the result would have been essentially the same. It is not so much the Bolsheviks who killed the Russian Revolution as the Bolshevik idea. It was marxism, however modified; in short, fanatical governmentalism (...) I have further shown that it is not only Bolshevism that failed, but Marxism itself. That is to say, the STATE IDEA, the authoritarian principle, has been proven bankrupt by the experience of the Russian Revolution. If I were to sum up my whole argument in one sentence I should say: The inherent tendency of the State is to concentrate, to narrow, and monopolise all social activities; the nature of revolution is, on the contrary, to grow, to broaden, and disseminate itself in ever-wider circles. In other words, the State is institutional and static; revolution is fluent, dynamic. These two tendencies are incompatible and mutually destructive. The State idea killed the Russian Revolution and it must have the same result in all other revolutions, unless the libertarian idea prevails. (...) The main cause of the defeat of the Russian Revolution lies much deeper. It is to be found in the whole Socialist conception of revolution itself.”[23]
“And while the workers and peasants of Russia were laying down their lives so heroically, this inner enemy rose to ever greater power. Slowly but surely the Bolsheviki were building up a centralised state, which destroyed the Soviets and crushed the revolution, a state that can now easily compare, in regard to bureaucracy and despotism, with any of the great powers of the world.”[24]
“The marxist policies of the Bolsheviki, the tactics first extolled as indispensable to the life of the revolution only to be discarded as harmful after they had wrought misery, distrust and antagonism, were the factors that slowly undermined the faith of the people in the revolution.”[25]
Goldman’s thesis is the following: marxism, because of the policy of the Bolsheviks towards the state following the revolution, has turned out to be useless. Contrary to the viscerally anti-organisation sections of anarchism, Goldman never defended the position that the problems of the Bolsheviks fundamentally resulted from the organisational strength of their political party. She rejected rather their concrete policy. And she had good reason to on two counts when she said that the state is by nature "institutional and static". Manifestly, she refers here to the experience concerning the bourgeois state and its nature before the revolution. Goldman’s position is not exclusively emotional, as some anarchists constantly reproached her for at the time, but is based on historic experience. The state in feudalism and capitalism is by its nature completely static and, above all, unconditionally defends the interests and power of the dominant class; it is openly reactionary. Secondly, we share the point of view according to which the problem is not that of individual personalities in the ranks of the Bolsheviks, but the enormous confusion within the party concerning the state after the revolution, which in fact reflected the immaturity of the workers' movement at that time on the question of the state.
Even after a world proletarian revolution (which was never the case at the time of the Russian Revolution, being largely limited to that country), the "semi-state" – necessary but limited to minimal functions and subordinate to the workers' councils – remains in its essence always conservative and static, and in no way constitutes a driving force for the establishment of a communist society; nor is it an organ of the working class. The Italian Communist Left described it thus: “... the state, even with the adjective ‘proletarian’ attached to it, remains an organ of coercion, and in sharp and permanent opposition to the realisation of the communist programme. In this sense it is an expression of the capitalist danger throughout the development of the transition period ....”[26]
Consequently, it is absolutely false to speak of a "proletarian state" as an organ of the revolution, as the Trotskyists claim with regard to Russia, but also the Bordigist current concerning the theoretical analysis of the transition period. Such an idea is completely incapable of grasping the danger of identifying the workers' councils and the political party with the state apparatus – as tragically happened in Russia.
To avoid any false debate, a remark is necessary: Goldman often speaks of a "centralised state" built by the Bolsheviks. But this was not because she was a partisan of the federalist concept, like Rudolf Rocker who advocated the principle of an extremely federalist class struggle. [27] The term "centralist" used by Goldman was rather a characterisation of the impenetrable, unresponsive, corrupt and hierarchical state apparatus in Russia, which sabotaged the implementation of even the smallest measures for the working class and other oppressed layers of society, like the peasantry.
But does the test of revolution signify the collapse of marxism as Goldman claims? And was anarchism, on the contrary, confirmed by the Russian Revolution? If one wants to understand the events around the Russian Revolution, standing as an arbiter of two historical political currents on the "field of the revolution" to give a winner and a loser is hardly useful.
We cannot deal with all aspects of the tragic degeneration of the Bolshevik party and the Russian Revolution in this response, but we have already dealt with these in numerous ICC texts. But we must respond to Goldman on the alleged shipwreck of marxism as a whole. The Bolshevik party degenerated, which was clearly expressed by its fusion with the state apparatus; that’s a fact – but marxism has not failed.
With her method, how does Goldman explain the fact that faced with the question of war, it was precisely within the marxist workers' movement, and on the basis of its historical legacy, that the clearest, most determined internationalist positions emerged, such as those embodied in the Kienthal Conference of 1916? And all this led by a marxist organisation, the Bolsheviks, a spearhead against the reformism which was gaining ground faced with the question of war.
With her method, how does Goldman explain the fact, mentioned at the beginning of this article and correctly denounced by herself, that within anarchism and even around the central figure of anarchism at the time, Kropotkin, a tendency appeared which abandoned internationalist principles and openly proclaimed so in a manifesto – a deviation that gave rise to great uncertainty, tensions and resistance within the anarchist ranks? According to Goldman's own method anarchism hit the rocks here since internationalism had just been thrown overboard by its most influential representatives. As in the marxist workers' movement this produced a lively confrontation faced with the test of war and a determined part of anarchism, which also included Goldman, fought against any support for either of the two imperialist camps involved.
It would be absolutely false to say that anarchism as a whole became bankrupt in 1914. On the contrary, it's precisely because such a drastic decantation took place within the anarchist and marxist workers' movement that it was possible in the struggle against war and in October ‘17, revolutionary, internationalist anarchists fought side-by-side with revolutionary marxists. If the necessary positioning between war and the revolution indeed produced such a result, it was just as much among marxists as among anarchists, producing a determined and intransigent defence of internationalism and the interests of the working class.
And that's not all. With her approach and the thesis of the bankruptcy of marxism, how does Goldman explain the fact that the Bolsheviks, an organisation of the marxist tradition, were able in 1917, with the April Theses formulated by its most determined representatives, to bring clarity against the democratic confusions still existing in the Russian working class?
It's a fact that the majority of the Bolsheviks gradually moved away the spirit of the October revolution, turning their backs on it. By identifying with the state apparatus and taking repressive measures against those who criticised, they became locked into the absurd belief that they could save the revolution and thus became the incarnation of the counter-revolution from within. But it wasn't the totality of the Bolsheviks who embarked on this path, because there were different organised reactions within the party in the face of these signs of degeneration.
Goldman describes her great sympathy for and closeness to one of these oppositional groups within the party; the "Workers' Opposition" around Kollontai and Shliapnikov. Clearly, marxism was capable of producing a militant revolutionary opposition, which Goldman expressly welcomed. On the other hand, she (and more so still her political comrade Alexander Berkman) described the organised tendencies within anarchism in Russia, the so-called "soviet anarchists", who openly supported the policies of the Bolsheviks; and this even in 1920 when the terror of the Cheka[28] was already set up. She also honestly describes what followed: " Unfortunately, as was unavoidable under the circumstances, some evil spirits had found entry into the Anarchist ranks – debris washed ashore by the Revolutionary tide. (…) Power is corrupting and anarchists are no exception".[29] So, if we follow Goldman’s method, has anarchism in its entirety failed because of such facts? Such a conclusion would be wrong from our point of view. Her approach and conclusion does not take into account all the post-October 1917 debates within a so-called "bankrupt marxism".
The question of the state after the revolution wasn't resolved within the workers' movement of the time and this is equally valid for the anarchists. An essential reason was the absence of any concrete historical experience for what happened in Russia after 1917. Up to then the workers' movement had always started from the perspective of a rapidly extending revolution. The insurmountable isolation of the Russian Revolution and the obligation to defend its territory brutally and rapidly reinforced it suffocation and its degeneration; the state and the Bolshevik Party "fused" to become an active factor in this dynamic.
Even Goldman's political reference point, “Father Kropotkin” as his political entourage called him, was also unable to answer the questions of the role and function of the state after a revolution in his book The State: its Historic Role. The radical rejection of the state by the great majority of anarchists on the basis of an instinctive distrust, came from the experience of a brutal confrontation with the state under feudalism and the capitalist state apparatus; it rightly demanded the destruction of the bourgeois state by the proletarian revolution as was advocated by Lenin in his book The State and Revolution.
Even though this merit of the anarchist movement must be recognised, a false conception nevertheless prevailed in its ranks: the reorganisation of society, immediately after the revolution, by the workers' councils, the unions and cooperatives. Such a scenario hopelessly pushes the organs of the defence and political interests of the working class, the workers' councils, which constitute the dynamic element of the society, to fuse with the organism charged with the management of society (what we call a reduced and controlled transitional state.[30] If this happens, the workers' councils can only lose their autonomy in relation to the state (which would mean the working class losing its autonomy as a class), and themselves becoming a cog in the bureaucratic machine. Goldman also shares this position, even if only in an implicit and undeveloped form.
Let's return to the question of the so-called shipwreck of marxism. The majority of anarchists criticised the tragic developments in Russia. But anarchism wasn’t confirmed in its totality in the Russian Revolution, just as marxism did not fail as a whole. There were without any doubt two false ideas among the Bolsheviks on the subject of the relations between workers' councils, party and state. At the time of the Russian Revolution the idea of unity between party and state apparatus dominated, and of a party which, alongside the workers' councils, had to be involved in the exercise of power. The dominant conception was that a minority within the class, its party, because of the confidence placed in it, would be called to take power in the name of the working class. This point of view clearly expressed the immaturity that existed on the question of the state after the revolution.
Through their conceptions of the post-revolutionary state and their relationship with it, the Bolsheviks became caught in a destructive spiral which, in the situation of complete isolation of the revolution, saw a false idea turn into a tragedy. Although the Bolsheviks never openly rejected the principle of the seizure of power by the workers 'councils, one of the first signs of degeneration was the gradual denial of the powers of the workers' councils, a process in which the Bolsheviks played a decisive role.
It’s not fatalistic sarcasm but a historical fact to say it was the tragic experience of the Russian Revolution that clarified all these questions. Salvation could only come from the international extension of the revolution on the basis of the vitality of the soviets. This would also have denied any retrospective determinism according to which the fate of the Russian Revolution was already sealed at its birth. But wanting to save the revolution with "the strong arm of the state", as the Bolsheviks initially attempted, was a pure and simple impossibility.
Goldman draws a static conclusion from the reality of the growing domination of the state apparatus after October and of the process of degeneration. The weakness in her method is not to take into account the struggle in the marxist ranks against the dynamic of state domination: nor does it take into account the enormous difficulties that this situation generated among the anarchists, even if this figures in the detail of her observations. Added to this weakness is her idea that the Bolsheviks – as a party of marxism and for that very same reason – were doomed to failure from the very start because of their supreme goal, that of seizing power, just as all the detractors of the Bolshevik Party claimed. It seems that, according to Goldman, it is the elementary existence of marxist positions which decided the fate of the revolution. In her conclusion on the question of the state she also expressly denies the fact that it was a process of degeneration resulting from the world context rather than a question "settled" from the start. With her proclamation of "the failure of marxism" in the experience of the Russian revolution, she gives too much away too easily, finally leading to another thesis.
One of Goldman's theses where she goes furthest in her criticism is:
“The Bolsheviks are the Jesuit order in the Marxist church. Not that they are insincere as men or that their intentions are evil. It is their Marxism that has determined her policies and methods. The very means they have employed have destroyed the realisation of their end. Communism, Socialism, equality, freedom – everything for which the Russian masses have endured so much martyrdom – have become discredited and besmirched by her tactics, by their Jesuit motto that the end justifies the means.” (…) “But Lenin is a shrewd and subtle Jesuit; he joined in the popular cry: ‘All power to the Soviets!’. When he and his follow-Jesuits were firmly in the saddle, the breaking up of the Soviets begun. Today they are like everything else in Russia – a shadow with the substances utterly crushed.” (…) “To be sure, Lenin often repents. At every All-Russian Communist conclave he comes forth with his mea culpa. ‘I have sinned’. A young Communist once said to me: ‘It would not surprise me if Lenin should some day declare that the October Revolution was a mistake.’”[31]
Yes, the objectives of the Bolsheviks, communism, socialism, equality and freedom, which Goldman did not deny to be the true goals of the Bolsheviks, could not be realised. In other places in her writings on Russia, she describes how she was confronted with a question that was full of hope and asked many times by many Bolshevik leaders: "Will we soon see the revolution in Germany and the United States?" This too from Lenin in a meeting with Goldman. The Bolsheviks she spoke to were eager to receive a positive reply from her, she being closely in touch with the situation in the United States. It was clear from her descriptions that the Bolsheviks lived in constant fear of isolation and desperately awaited the least sign of revolutionary developments in other countries. This itself proves that in the ranks of the Bolshevik Party, which was anything but homogeneous, the hope of a world revolution had continued to live despite the increasingly clear degeneration. And so it was not just about a greed for power in Russia, as she runs the risk of claiming with the idea of the "Jesuitism" of the Bolsheviks.
Goldman's concerns revolved around the contradiction between the initial objectives of the Bolsheviks and their specific policies and methods. This led to a definitive break after the bloody repression of the Kronstadt uprising in March 1921 under the banner of saving the revolution, and where there was use of brutal violence within the working class, which was in stark contradiction with communist principles. Her experience with the Cheka also played a decisive role in her break with the Bolsheviks.
The method according to which the end justifies the means must be vehemently fought against by the working class. Goldman is honest in not to hiding her own hesitations about it. But her descriptions clearly refute the thesis that the Bolsheviks' thinking was that of the "Jesuits of Marxism", who would stop at nothing in the pursuit of their goals, and that here there would be a fundamental difference between the Bolsheviks and the anarchism.
How was this question posed among anarchists? She described her discussions with Berkman on the question of the legitimate means for defending the revolution:
"It was absurd to denounce the Bolsheviki for the drastic measures they were using, Sasha urged. How else were they to free Russia from the stranglehold of counter-revolution and sabotage? So far as he was concerned, he did not think any methods too harsh to deal with this. Revolutionary necessity justified all measures, however we might dislike them. As long as the Revolution was in jeopardy, those seeking to undermine it must pay the penalty. Single-hearted and clear-eyed as ever was my old pal. I agreed with him; still, the ugly reports of my comrades kept disturbing me."[32]
This debate with Berkman went on in the sharpest way:
“For hours he would argue against my ‘impatience’ and deficient judgement of far-reaching issues, my kid-glove approach to the Revolution. I had always depreciated the economic factor as the main cause of capitalist evils, he declared. Could I fail to see now that economic necessity was the very reason which was forcing the hand of the men at the Soviet helm? The continued danger from the outside, the natural indolence of the Russian worker and his failure to increase production, the peasants’ lack of the most necessary implements, and their resultant refusal to feed the cities had compelled the Bolsheviki to pass those desperate measures. Of course he regarded such methods as counter-revolutionary and bound to defeat their purpose. Still, it was preposterous to suspect men like Lenin or Trotsky of deliberate treachery to the Revolution. Why, they had dedicated their lives to that cause, they had suffered persecution, calumny, prison, and exile for their ideals! They could not go back on them to such an extent!”[33]
For the working class, the means used must not be in contradiction with its fundamental objectives.[34] However, we reject the assertion that marxism alone, and the Bolsheviks in particular, would be vulnerable to the penetration of the dominant class ideology by adopting means that conflict with the goal of communism. The discussions described by Goldman are characteristic of the fact that anarchism has always had enormous difficulties in this regard. An example of the use by many anarchists of means that contradict the goal is the attack on Lenin by Fanny Kaplan on August 30th, 1918, justified by allegations of Lenin's so-called betrayal of the revolution. Given the long tradition of assassinations of representatives of the hated tsarist regime, which exposed the anarchists to a brutal repression, part of Russian anarchism resorted to what is called "propaganda by deed" by having recourse to "the ends justifies the means". This included targeting working class fighters, as the attack on Lenin shows!
It is not a matter of mourning the hated figures of Tsarism targeted by the methods of one part of Russian anarchism, which expressed a reductive understanding of feudalism, identifying it with some individuals. But, as Berkman defended it correctly against Goldman, this system was not based on the malevolence of individuals, but on social and economic bases in contradiction with the needs of the exploited classes. The "propaganda by deed", the individual violence against the hated representatives of feudalism, conceived as "triggering reflection" also expressed a false conception of the development of class consciousness, since these methods in no way demonstrate the necessity for a united struggle of the whole class against the foundations of exploitation.
It is understandable that Goldman showed allegiance to Kaplan as a prisoner, since she was tortured by the Cheka. She did not herself call for the same methods as Kaplan. But why in this situation did she not dare go a step further and criticise the "Jesuit" methods in the ranks of anarchism, rather than circumscribing it to the Bolsheviks?
Goldman suffered greatly in September 1921 with the Cheka's execution of friends, of anarchists such as Fanya Baron, with the approval of Lenin. Although Lenin was one of the most determined and clearest personalities of the October Revolution, such measures are unacceptable. Goldman developed a growing antipathy, especially towards Trotsky and Lenin, describing them as clever and cunning Jesuits.[35]
The Cheka had become uncontrollable and used hostage-taking and torture to extract information and carried out executions to spread fear. It was often used against political opposition groups coming from the very ranks of the Bolsheviks and anarchists, but also against workers who participated in strikes. Goldman's criticism of prisoners – defenceless individuals – being condemned to death, whether members of bourgeois counter-revolutionary organisations, criminals, or those taken prisoner from the white armies, is absolutely justified because such measures were not only meaningless acts of violence, but were also an expression of the view that people cannot change their opinions, their behaviour and political positions and they must, in a word, be liquidated.[36] Within the Bolsheviks, the fight against the suppression of opposition voices inside the party and the working class began in 1918. Although Goldman herself witnessed debates and the existence of different positions among the Bolsheviks, she draws too simplistic a picture in order to condemn the latter as "Jesuits of Marxism", as if they were forged from a single block, which never corresponded to reality. The central problem was the sliding into a militarist approach to political problems rather than turning to working class consciousness, to which most of the Bolsheviks succumbed in the false belief that they were saving the besieged revolution. But this does not correspond to a thirst for power allegedly rooted inside the Bolshevik Party.
Marxism has never defended the principle according to which the end justifies the means; this was never a principle or practice of the Bolsheviks before and during the October Revolution. Kronstadt's suppression, however, the tragic culmination of a growing repression, showed how much the degeneration had already progressed, the forms it would take and the logic behind it. Its political justification was derived from its underlying goal (the "iron cohesion" of Russia against the international attacks) justifying the means (bloody repression).
Goldman's personal and utterly demoralising experiences of Kronstadt led to a break with the Bolsheviks and marked a turning point. In the last days before the crushing of the sailors, soldiers and workers of Kronstadt, she was part of a delegation (including in addition to her, Perkus, Pertrowski, Berkman) who tried to negotiate with the Red Army. "Kronstadt broke the last thread that held me to the Bolsheviki. The wanton slaughter they had instigated spoke more eloquently against them then aught else. Whatever their pretences in the past, the Bolsheviki now proved themselves the most pernicious enemies of the revolution. I could have nothing further to do with them."[37]
Kronstadt was a terrible tragedy, a tragic mistake much more than a simple "error".
The crushing of Kronstadt with several thousand dead proletarians (on both sides!) was based on an absolutely false assessment of the character of this uprising by Bolshevik leaders that could have had several causes: the fact that the international bourgeoisie had perfidiously seized this opportunity to hypocritically declare its "solidarity" with the insurgents; also the growing fear that Kronstadt had passed into the camp of the counter-revolution or was even already an expression of the counter-revolution. Goldman responded correctly to both of these aspects. In her autobiography dating back to 1931, however, she was unable to draw the most important lesson from the Kronstadt tragedy, as was the case for the entire Marxist Left during the repression, which mostly supported it. Neither, even with the passage of time, would she be able to understand, contrary to certain currents of the Communist Left, that violence within the working class must be firmly rejected and that this must be a principle.[38]
As with the question of the state, Goldman falls far too easily into the question of the so-called "continued Jesuitism of the Bolsheviks". She calls the Bolsheviks Jesuit, which is in total contradiction with their history. The dynamism of the majority of the Bolsheviks, who did not hesitate to use violence in Kronstadt in 1921 as an alleged means of class struggle, was by no means "their tradition" but rather, as we have seen, an expression of the process of their progressive degeneration.
Instead of looking fundamentally at the question that all revolutionaries without exception faced, namely what means can be used in the class struggle and in the revolution, the "Jesuit" label that Goldman loosely attributed to the Bolsheviks was rather an obstacle to understanding the degeneration of the revolution as a process.
One question is found in Goldman's writings on Russia like a red thread: when was it justified to formulate an open criticism of the Bolsheviks? She described an encounter with anarchists in Petrograd with great indignation:
"These charges and denunciations beat upon me like hammers and left me stunned. I listened tense in every nerve, hardly able clearly to understand what I heard, and failing to grasp its full meaning. It couldn’t be true — this monster indictment! (…) The men in that dismal hall must be mad, I thought, to tell such impossible and preposterous stories, wicked to condemn the Communists for the crimes they must know were due to the counterrevolutionary gang, to the blockade and the White generals attacking the Revolution. I proclaimed my conviction to the gathering, but my voice was drowned in the laughter of derision and jeers.”[39]
As regards the question of the changes to come immediately after the revolution, Goldman's despondency with the positions of the other anarchists shows that anarchism was anything but homogeneous, especially with regard to the attitude towards the Bolsheviks. Anarchism in Russia had again divided into different camps.[40] The following passages from Goldman's writings once again testify to her responsible attitude in not ignoring her own uncertainties, but they also show the evolution of her attitude towards the Bolsheviks.
"Well could I understand the attitude of my Ukrainian friends. They had suffered much during the last year: they had seen the high hopes of the Revolution crushed and Russia breaking down beneath the heel of the Bolshevik state. Yet I could not comply with their wishes. I still had faith in the Bolsheviki, in their revolutionary sincerity and integrity. Moreover, I felt that as long as Russia was being attacked from outside I could not speak in criticism. I would not add fuel on the fires of counterrevolution. I therefore had to keep silent, and stand by the Bolsheviki as the organised defenders of the Revolution. But my Russian friends scorned this view. I was confounding the Communist Party with the revolution, they said; they are not the same, on the contrary they were opposed, even antagonistic.”[41]
“At the first news of war with Poland I had set aside my critical attitude and offered my services as a nurse at the front (…) But he (Zorin) never did. That of course could have no bearing on my determination to help the country, in whatever capacity possible. Nothing seemed so important just then.” (…) “I was not denying Makhno’s services to the Revolution in the struggle against the White forces, nor the fact that his povstantsy army was a spontaneous mass movement of the toilers. I did not think, however, that anarchism had anything to gain from military activity or that our propaganda should depend on military or political spoils. But that was beside the point. I was not in a position to join their work, nor was it a question of the Bolsheviki any more. I was ready to admit frankly that I had erred grievously when I had defended Lenin and his party as the true champions of the Revolution. But I would not engage in active opposition to them so long as Russia was still being attacked by outside enemies.”[42]
“I was oppressively conscious of the great debt I owed to the workers of Europe and America: I should tell them the truth about Russia. But how could I speak out when the country was still besieged on several fronts? It would mean working into the hands of Poland and Wrangel. For the first time in my life I refrained from exposing grave social evils. I felt as if I were betraying the trust of the masses, particularly of the American workers, whose faith I dearly cherished.”[43]
"I found it necessary to observe silence so long as the combined imperialist forces were at the throat of Russia. (…) Now, however, the time for silence has passed. I therefore mean to tell my story. I am not unmindful of the difficulties confronting me. I know I shall be misappropriated by the reactionaries, the enemies of the Russian Revolution, as well as excommunicated by its so-called friends; who persist in confusing the governing party of Russia with the Revolution. It is, therefore, necessary that I state my position clearly towards both.”[44]
At that time other revolutionaries, such as Rosa Luxemburg, were quick to make criticisms of the Bolsheviks, even when they expressed total solidarity with them and defended the decisive role they had played in the Russian Revolution. Rosa Luxemburg wrote her pamphlet The Russian Revolution in 1918 at the same time as Goldman published the article "The Truth about the Bolsheviks" in Mother Earth with boundless enthusiasm. The example of Rosa Luxemburg shows how difficult it was to make the decision to publish her own criticism at the right time, and always with the concern not to strike a blow to the revolution. In her text written in the Moabit Prison, Luxemburg expressed a criticism of the Bolsheviks, where her concern was, by clarifying the problems posed in Russia, to show her support and solidarity:
"Lenin and Trotsky, on the other hand, decide in favour of dictatorship in contradistinction to democracy, and thereby, in favour of the dictatorship of a handful of persons, that is, in favour of dictatorship on the bourgeois model.” (…) “But this dictatorship must be the work of the class and not of a little leading minority in the name of the class – that is, it must proceed step by step out of the active participation of the masses; it must be under their direct influence, subjected to the control of complete public activity; it must arise out of the growing political training of the mass of the people. Doubtless the Bolsheviks would have proceeded in this very way were it not that they suffered under the frightful compulsion of the world war, the German occupation and all the abnormal difficulties connected therewith, things which were inevitably bound to distort any socialist policy, however imbued it might be with the best intentions and the finest principles. (...) The danger begins only when they make a virtue of necessity and want to freeze into a complete theoretical system all the tactics forced upon them by these fatal circumstances, and want to recommend them to the international proletariat as a model of socialist tactics.”[45]
Luxemburg did not refrain from criticism. Why did Goldman not follow the example of Rosa Luxemburg when, in her writings, she repeatedly expressed her sadness following the assassination in January 1919 of Luxemburg, whose positions she knew? Why in her pamphlet The Crushing of the Russian Revolution did she never make reference to Luxemburg’s criticisms written three years previously?
The reason is simple: she did not know of it. Indeed, Luxemburg's text became the victim of a gross fear of "stabbing the revolution in the back" and of playing the bourgeoisie's game in raising criticisms. The publication of Luxemburg's criticism of the Bolsheviks, which she wanted to make known immediately after drafting it, was deliberately withheld by her closest political friends and did not appear until four years later, in 1922.[46]
Unfortunately, Goldman did not have the opportunity to draw inspiration from Luxemburg's criticism of the Bolsheviks. Her excitement on arrival in Russia is understandable given the horrors in which the World War had plunged humanity. Goldman's “Soviet Russia! Sacred ground” and her subsequent utter disillusionment is also an example that euphoria is most of the time condemned to suffer great disappointment. It is not surprising that 13 years later she rejected as "naive" her initial defence of the Bolsheviks.
Luxemburg was never inclined to political excitement and formulated her criticism on the basis of the first experiences of the months following October 1917, concluding with the famous words that the future belongs to Bolshevism. Goldman wrote her criticism three years later, based on her own experience of a later phase of the revolution in Russia, after the workers' councils were dispossessed of their power at the time of the unleashing of the Cheka and the inescapable identification of the Bolshevik Party with the state apparatus. Nevertheless, it harboured great hopes: "Lenin and his retinue are sensing the danger. Their attack upon and the persecution of the Labour Opposition and the Anarcho-Syndicalists are continuing with even greater intensity. Is it that the Anarcho-Syndicalist star is rising in the east? Who knows- Russia is the land of miracles.”[47] What would have been Luxemburg's analysis at the end of 1921, after the onset of a clear degeneration and after Kronstadt? Sadly, we will never know.
Goldman oscillated between silence and her "I have to raise my voice against the crimes committed in the name of the Revolution”. But how should that happen? During her stay in Russia, the bourgeois newspaper World in New York repeatedly asked her to publish articles on Russia. Goldman at first refused, after hard discussions with Berkman, who was strictly against such an approach, with the argument that everything published in the bourgeois press could only be used in the service of the counter-revolution and proposed she produce her own leaflets for distribution to the workers. A few weeks later, as Goldman had left Russia at the end of 1921, she allowed World to publish her texts.
"I wrote her that I preferred to have my say in the liberal and labour press in the United States, and that I should be willing to have them publish my articles without any pay rather than have them appear in the New York World or similar publications. (…) Now that I knew the truth, was I to be forced to slay it and keep silent? No, I must protest. I must cry out against the gigantic deception posing as truth and justice.”[48]
Goldman had waited a few months in Russia to make public her criticism because she did not want to "stab the revolution in the back". And because of this unthinking decision, she was pilloried from various directions:
“My Communist accusers were not the only ones to cry ‘Crucify!’ There were also some anarchist voices in the chorus. They were the very people who had fought me on Ellis Island, on the Buford and the first year in Russia because I had refused to condemn the Bolsheviki before I had a chance to test their scheme. Daily the news from Russia about the continued political persecution strengthened every fact I had described in my articles and in my book. It was understandable that Communists should close their eyes to the reality, but it was reprehensible on the part of people who called themselves anarchists to do so, especially after the treatment Mollie Steimer had received in Russia after having valiantly fought in America for the Soviet régime.“[49]
The charge of treason by some parts of the American workers' movement had largely deprived her analysis and reflections of the attention and recognition they deserved. But in a world where two classes confront each other in an absolutely antagonistic way, it was a desperate act to criticise herself and to explain it from the fact that she had no other choice. Indeed it was extremely dangerous to want to use an instrument of the bourgeoisie, whatever it may be, even briefly, as a means of expressing a working class position. What a pity that such a strong militant had fallen into this trap!
What Goldman and Rosa Luxemburg have in common is undoubtedly the enormous desire to understand the problems of the Russian Revolution, to defend the revolutionary character of October 1917 and to not succumb to the dramatic situation without criticising. Goldman never accepted the tactical method of simply considering the Bolsheviks as a "lesser evil" and to support them only for the duration of the war against the white armies, a position openly defended in Russia by the anarchist Machajski in the journal The workers’ revolution.
Expressing open criticism of the policies of the Bolsheviks was from the outset less risky outside Russia than in Russia itself. But Goldman's doubts did not stem from fear or repressive measures against her. Owing to her status as a well-known American revolutionary, she enjoyed much greater protection than other revolutionary immigrants. Although she did not hide her sympathy for the Workers' Opposition and allied herself with the imprisoned anarchists (for example when she spoke at Kropotkin's funeral), she was only placed under "soft" surveillance by the Cheka, to intimidate her.
Would her criticisms have destroyed the shining example of the October revolution within the international working class? Certainly not. The alternative was posed not in the terms of "either being silent or denouncing the Bolsheviks". On the contrary, a mature political critique of Bolshevik policies at that time provided support for the entire international revolutionary wave. The working class is the class of consciousness, not of thoughtless action. Therefore, criticism of its own actions and mistakes is a legacy of the workers' movement which had to be maintained even in such tragic times. It is not part of the nature of the working class to conceal its problems, unlike the bourgeoisie. As Luxemburg’s text shows, criticism of the Bolsheviks must not be limited to indignation but should also be mature enough to support the struggle against the degeneration of the revolution. Later it was a criterion for the Italian Communist Left to refrain from expressing hasty analyses and criticisms that did not permit lessons to be drawn.
Goldman's analysis of the Russian Revolution went beyond mere indignation. But in different places, with its characterisation of Lenin and Trotsky as "cunning Jesuits", she slipped into a method of criticism which fixated on charismatic individuals, which cannot be justified by the great influence that these individuals had on the policy of the Bolsheviks. Lenin does not personify the disarming of the councils and their fusion with the state, any more than Trotsky personifies the crushing of Kronstadt.
Later on, Goldman developed the position vis-à-vis Trotsky that his actions – especially Kronstadt – were sufficient to make him a pioneer of Stalinism.[50] The use of violence that he had directed as commander of the Red Army at Kronstadt did not reflect his personal inclinations but was the implementation of a decision of the whole Bolshevik power and, let us again recall, was supported at the time by the entire marxist left. The tragic error of Kronstadt was an illustration of both the immaturity of the workers' movement on the question of violence (no violence within the working class) and the degenerate course of the revolution in Russia, which would much later end up in to the openly counter-revolutionary politics of socialism in one country and the emergence of Stalin as leader of the world counter-revolution. Whatever the inadequacies of Trotsky's political denunciation of Stalinism and its organised apparatus of repression aimed at the complete physical and ideological crushing of the working class, it nonetheless expressed a proletarian reaction against them.
The value of Goldman's analysis lies in her raising the central questions confronting the Russian Revolution. The contradictions in her analysis and the conclusions, that we absolutely do not share, are not a reason to reject or ignore her efforts altogether. On the contrary, they are the expression of the enormous difficulty of producing a complete analysis of the Russian problem since 1922. She was not alone in this matter. She has the merit of having rejected the fusion of the party with the state apparatus, the seizure of power by the party and the repression of Kronstadt.
In this sense, she made an important contribution to the working class, which must be welcomed but also criticised. Goldman never claimed that October 1917 ultimately gave birth to Stalinism, as the ruling class still does today, in its deceitful campaigns, but stubbornly defended the October Revolution.
Mario 07/01/2018
[1]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution (1922), her first and most comprehensive analysis; My Disillusionment in Russia (1923/24); Living My Life (1931), Chapter 52.
[2]. This was a subject of great concern to her, which is understandable because the situation of children was catastrophic. In conditions of widespread misery, having lost one or both parents, often in war, they were the most vulnerable, especially when faced with the petty, unscrupulous and morally dehumanised bureaucrats. Perhaps she was more sensitive to this situation because she herself was a nurse and had had the opportunity to visit "model" institutions for children.
[3]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Preface to the first American edition.
[4]. “The Truth about the Bolsheviki”, Mother Earth, 1918.
[5]. Living My Life, Chapter 52.
[6]. Living My Life, loc. cit.
[7]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter 32.
[8]. Introduction to The Crushing of the Russian Revolution.
[9]. Op. Cit., Chapter “The Care of the Children“.
[10]. Title of the famous book by Nicolas Gogol in 1842. The methods and the parasitism of the state bureaucracy were an exact copy of certain techniques of personal enrichment under feudalism.
[11]. See our article “The degeneration of the Russian Revolution”, https://en.internationalism.org/node/2514 [3]
[12]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapter “The Forces that Crushed the Revolution”.
[13]. Voline (W.M. Eichenbaum), The Unknown Revolution, 1917-1921, Chapter “Counter-Revolution”. Voline goes so far as to claim that the international intervention against Russia was largely exaggerated and transformed into a legend spread by Bolsheviks around the world.
[14]. See on this subject our article "The world bourgeoisie against the October revolution", https://en.internationalism.org/international-review/201805/15143/world-... [4]
[15]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Loc. Cit.
[16]. Living My Life, Chapter 52.
[17]. Ibid.
[18]. The period of transition covers the entire period after the workers' councils take power until the state becomes extinct. During this period, a series of measures will have to be taken to eliminate wages and the money form, to socialise consumption and to meet needs (transport, leisure, rest, etc.). Read our article on “Problems of the Transition Period” in International Review nº 1. Although the measures to be taken right after the revolution are necessarily limited, certain measures however must be implemented immediately and with determination: for example, free transportation, immediate housing of homeless people in unneeded public buildings, homes of the rich, etc., but also the prohibition of child labour and any form of forced labour or prostitution.
[19]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapter “A Visit to Peter Kropotkin”.
[20]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapter “The Trade Unions”.
[21]. Op. Cit., Chapter “Dead Souls”.
[22]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter 17.
[23]. Afterword to My Disillusionment in Russia.
[24]. Introduction to The Crushing of the Russian Revolution.
[25]. Op. Cit., Chapter “The forces that Crushed the Revolution”.
[26]. "The question of the state", Octobre nº 2, March 1938, quoted in “Some Answers from the ICC”, International Review nº 12, 1978, https://en.internationalism.org/node/2636 [5]
[27]. Rudolf Rocker, Uber das Wesen des Federalismus im Gegensatz zum Zentralismus,1922.
[28]. Goldman describes the Cheka very well with the following words: "Originally the Cheka was controlled by the Commissariat of the Interior, the Soviets and the Central Committee of the Communist Party. Gradually it became the most powerful organisation in Russia. It was not merely a state within the state; it was a state over a state. The whole of Russia is covered to the remotest village with a net of Chekas". (The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapter “The Cheka”).
[29]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter 28.
[30]. See our pamphlet, The Period of Transition, https://en.internationalism.org/pamphlets/transition [6].
[31]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapters “The forces that Crushed the Revolution” and “The Soviets”. The Jesuit order is generally used as a symbol of a politics obsessed with power and ruthlessness according to the slogan “the end justifies the means”.
[32]. Living My Life, Chapter 52.
[33]. Ibid.
[34]. See our article, “Resolution on Terror, terrorism and class violence”, International Review, nº 15, https://en.internationalism.org/node/2649 [7]..
[35]. Voline went so far as to describe Lenin and Trotsky as brutal reformists who had never been revolutionaries and who used bourgeois methods (see The Unknown Revolution, Chapters “The Nature of the Bolshevik State” and “Counter-Revolution”).
[36]. This question is dealt with in detail in the book Moral Face of the Revolution (1923) by the People's Commissar for Justice until March 1918, Isaac Steinberg.
[37]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter “Kronstadt”.
[38]. See International Review nº104, “1921: Understanding Kronstadt”, https://en.internationalism.org/ir/104_kronstadt.html [8].
[39]. Living My Life, Chapter 52.
[40]. In the spring of 1918 the question of relations with the Bolsheviks strongly polarised the anarchist milieu (already historically divided into pan-anarchists, individualist anarchists, anarcho-syndicalists and anarcho-communists, where the demarcations are equally difficult to define). The question of violence or the analysis of the nature of the October Revolution played a secondary role. From open support to the Bolsheviks (from the "anarchists of soviets") to the idea of the Bolsheviks as traitors to the revolution who must be fought, one finds all kind of intermediary positions. See Paul Avrich, The Russian Anarchists (1967), Chapter on “The Anarchists and the Bolshevik regime”.
[41]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter “In Kharkov”.
[42]. Living My Life, Chapter 52.
[43]. My Disillusionment in Russia, Chapter “Back in Petrograd”.
[44]. Introduction to The Crushing of the Russian Revolution.
[45]. The Russian Revolution.
[46]. Paul Frölich, one of her political allies, describes this legendary sequence of events in his biography Rosa Luxemburg. Her Life and Work (1939). Paul Levi published Luxemburg’s The Russian Revolution in the course of 1922 (hence after Goldman's pamphlet) after having broken with the KPD. Levi claimed that Leo Jogiches (who was opposed to publication, arguing that Luxemburg had subsequently changed her mind) had destroyed the manuscript. J.P. Nettl credibly asserts that it was Levi himself who put strong pressure on Luxemburg not to publish the text, arguing that the bourgeoisie would misuse it against the Bolsheviks. It is clear that Luxemburg's text was not accidentally passed over in the disarray of the revolution in Germany, but, quite the contrary, it was avoided in the storm of contusion over the need for open criticism!
[47]. The Crushing of the Russian Revolution, Chapter “The Trade Unions”.
[48]. Living My Life, Chapter 53.
[49]. Living My Life, Chapter 54.
[50]. Trotsky Protests Too Much, July 1938.
The events of spring 1968 in France, in their roots and in their results, had an international significance. Underlying them were the consequences for the working class of the first symptoms of the world economic crisis, which was reappearing after well over a decade of capitalist prosperity.
After decades of defeat, disorientation and submission, in May 1968 the working class returned to the scene of history. While the student agitation which had been developing in France since the beginning of spring, and the radical workers’ struggles which had broken out the previous year, had already changed the social atmosphere, the entry en masse of the class struggle (10 million on strike) overturned the whole social landscape.
Very soon other national sectors of the working class would enter the struggle. After the huge strike of May 1968 in France, the struggles in Argentina (the Cordobazo), the “Hot Autumn” in Italy and many other movements across the world provided proof that the world proletariat had left behind the period of counter-revolution. In contrast to the crisis of 1929, the one now emerging would not lead to world war but to the development of class battles that would prevent the ruling class from imposing its barbaric solution to the convulsions of its economy.
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of this major event, we are publishing on our website a dossier made up of some the main articles the ICC has written about it, in particular:
We also begin the publication of a series of three articles aimed at drawing a balance sheet of the period since 1968, motivated by the concern to examine the extent to which the conclusions we have drawn about the meaning of May 1968 have been verified by history. The first article looks at the course followed by the aggravation of the economic crisis, and the following two will deal with the dynamic of the class struggle and the development of the revolutionary milieu.
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In issue number two of Révolution Internationale, published in 1969, there is an article called ‘Understanding May’ written by Marc Chirik, who had returned from over a decade of exile in Venezuela to take an active part in the ‘Events’ of May 68 in France[1].
This article was a polemical response to the pamphlet ‘Enragés and Situationists in the Occupation Movement’ published by the Situationist International[2]. While recognising that the SI had indeed played an active part in the movement of May-June, it punctured their almost unlimited pretentiousness and self-regard, which led them to the frankly subsitutionist conclusion that "the agitation unleashed in January 1968 by the four or five revolutionaries who were to constitute the enrages group was to lead, in five months, to the virtual liquidation of the state". And that "never has an agitation undertaken by so small a number led in so short a time to such consequences"
The material bases of the proletarian revolution
But the principal focus RI’s polemic was the underlying conceptions which provided the soil for this exaltation of ‘exemplary’ minorities – their rejection of the material bases of the proletarian revolution. Indeed, Marc’s article concludes that the voluntarism and substitutionism of the SI was a logical consequence of repudiating the marxist method which holds that massive and spontaneous actions by the working class are intimately connected to the objective situation of the capitalist economy.
Thus, against the SI’s notion that the “revolutionary events” of May-June had broken out against a capitalism that was “functioning well”, and that there had been “no tendency towards economic crisis” in the period leading up to the explosion, Marc demonstrated that the movement had been preceded by a growing threat of unemployment and by falling wages – signs that the “glorious” prosperity of the post-war period was coming to an end. And these signs were not limited to France but expressed themselves in various forms across the ‘developed’ world, notably in the devaluation of the pound sterling and the dollar crisis in the USA. He stressed that these were indeed only signs and symptoms, that “this is not yet an open economic crisis, first because we are only at the beginning, and second because in today's capitalism the state possesses a whole arsenal of means to slow down, and temporarily to attenuate the crisis' most striking expressions”.
At the same time, while repudiating the anarchist (and Situationist) idea that revolution is possible at any time, the article also affirms that the economic crisis is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for the revolution, that profound changes in the subjective consciousness of the masses are not automatically produced by the decline of the economy, contrary to the affirmation of the Stalinists in 1929, who declared the opening of a “Third Period” of imminent revolution in the wake of the 1929 crash, ,when in reality the working class was experiencing the most profound defeat in its history (of which Stalinism was, of course, both a product and active factor).
May 68 was thus not yet the revolution, but it did signify that the counter-revolutionary period that followed the defeat of the first world wide revolutionary wave had come to an end. “The full significance of May 68 is that it was one of the most important reactions by the mass of workers to a deteriorating world economic situation”. The article does not go any further in examining the actual events of 68; that is not its purpose. But it does give some indications about the consequences of the end of the counter-revolution (a period which Marc had lived through from beginning to end) for the future unfolding of the class struggle. It meant that the new generation of the working class was freeing itself from many of the mystifications which had imprisoned it during the previous period, above all Stalinism and anti-fascism; and although the re-emerging crisis would push capitalism towards another world war, today, unlike in the 1930s, “Capitalism disposes of fewer and fewer themes of mystification capable of mobilizing the masses and sending them to the slaughter. The Russian myth is collapsing; the false choice between bourgeois democracy and totalitarianism is wearing very thin. In these conditions, the crisis can be seen immediately for what it is. Its first symptoms will provoke increasingly violent reactions from the masses in every country”.
Furthermore, as a series of articles written in 2008, ‘May 68 and the revolutionary perspective’[3], insisted, May 68 was more than a purely defensive reaction to a deteriorating economic situation. It also gave rise to an intense political ferment, to innumerable debates about the possibility of a new society, to serious attempts by young politicised elements - workers as well as students - to discover the revolutionary traditions of the past. This dimension of the movement was above all what the revived the perspective of revolution, not as an immediate or short-term possibility, but as the historic product of a whole period of resurgent class struggle. The more immediate fruit of this new-found interest in revolutionary politics was the constitution of a new proletarian political milieu, including the groups that would form the ICC in the mid-70s.
The question we want to raise here, however, is whether, fifty years later, the predictions contained in Marc’s article have been proved correct or found wanting.
The majority of marxist currents in the first decades of the 20th century considered that the First World War marked the definitive shift from the era in which capitalist relations of production had been “forms of development” for the productive forces to becoming fetters on their further development. This was concretised, at the economic level, by the transformation of the cyclical crises of overproduction which had marked the 19th century to a chronic state of economic crisis accompanied by a permanent militarisation of the economy and a spiral of barbaric wars. This did not mean, as some of the marxists in the revolutionary period that followed the 1914-18 war thought, that capitalism had entered into a “death crisis” from which any kind of recovery would be impossible. Within an overall epoch of decline, there would still be recoveries, expansion into new zones previously outside the capitalist system, and real advances in the sophistication of the productive forces. But the underlying tendency would be one in which economic crisis was no longer a passing storm, but a permanent, chronic illness, which would at certain moments enter into an acute phase. This was already becoming clear with the crisis of the 30s: the idea that ‘leaving well alone’, relying on the hidden hand of the market, would naturally allow the economy to recover - the initial response of the more traditional bourgeois sectors - had to give way to a more openly interventionist policy by the state- typified by the New Deal in the US, and the Nazi war economy in Germany. And it was above all the latter which revealed, in a period of defeat for the working class, the real secret of the mechanismswhich served to alleviate the acute crisis of the 1930s: preparation for a second imperialist war.
The return of the open crisis which our article proclaimed in 1969 was confirmed within the next few years, with the shock of the so-called ‘oil crisis’ of 1973-4 and the growing difficulties of the post-war Keynesian consensus, which expressed itself in mounting inflation and attacks on workers’ living standards, particular the wage levels which had risen steadily during the period of post-war prosperity. But, as we showed in our article ’30 years of the open economic crisis’ written in 1999[4], the tendency towards the open crisis becoming a permanent feature of decadent capitalism has become more evident in the entire period since 1968: today we are due an article on ’50 years of the open economic crisis’. Our 1999 article traces course of the crisis through the explosion of unemployment which followed the application of ‘Thatcherism’ and ‘Reaganomics in the early 80s; the financial crash of 1987; the recession of the early 90s; the convulsions in the Far Eastern ‘Dragons and Tigers’, Russia and Brazil in 1997-8. An updated version would include further recession at the turn of millennium and of course the so-called financial crash or credit crunch of 2007. The 1999 article underlines the principal features of the crisis-ridden economy in these decades: the untrammelled growth of speculation, as investment in productive activities become increasingly unprofitable; the de-industrialisation of whole areas of the old capitalist centres as capital was drawn to the sources of cheaper labour power in the ‘developing’ countries; and, underlying a large part both of the growth and the financial shocks of this whole period, capital’s incurable addiction to debt. And it shows that the crisis of capitalism is not only measured in unemployment figures or rates of growth, but in its social, political and military ramifications. Thus it was the world economic crisis of capitalism which was a decisive factor in the collapse of the eastern bloc in 1989-91, in the sharpening of imperialist tensions and the exacerbation of war and chaos, above all in the weakest zones of the global system. In our putative update we would also seek to show the link between the increased competition demanded by the crisis and the accelerating plunder of the natural environment, the consequences of which (pollution, climate change etc) are already having a direct impact on human populations throughout the world. In brief: the prolonged character of capitalism’s open crisis in the last five decades, with the two major classes caught in a social stalemate, neither able to their respective solutions to the crisis – world war or world revolution – underlies the emergence of a new and terminal phase in the decadence of capitalism, the phase of generalised decomposition.
Of course, the trajectory of this period has not shown one long decline or even a permanent state of stagnation, and the ruling class has always made maximum propaganda use out of the various recoveries and mini-booms that have taken place in the advanced countries in the 80s, 90s and 2000s, while for many of its mouthpieces the impressive rise of the Chinese economy in particular is proof positive that capitalism is far from being a senile system. But the fragile, limited and temporary bases of these recoveries in the established centres of the system was cast under a very bright light by the enormous financial crash of 2007, which exposed the degree to which capitalist growth was founded on the shifting sands of unlimited debt. This phenomenon is also an element in the rise of China, even if the latter’s growth has a more substantial basis than the ‘vampire recoveries’, the ‘recoveries without jobs’ and the ‘recoveries without wage rises’ which we have seen in the western economies. But in the final analysis China cannot escape the contradictions of the global system and indeed the dizzying scale of its expansion has the potential to make future world crises of overproduction even more destructive. Looking back over the past five decades, it becomes evident that we are not talking about a cycle of boom and bust as in the 19th century, when capitalism really was a system in its prime, but a single, protracted, world-wide economic crisis, itself the expression of an underlying obsolescence of the mode of production. The 1969 article, armed with this understanding of the historic nature of the capitalist crisis, was thus able to diagnose the real significance of the small signs of economic ill-health that were so easily dismissed by the Situationist doctors.
Looking back in this way we can also appreciate the correctness of the article’s assertion that “today's capitalism the state possesses a whole arsenal of means to slow down, and temporarily to attenuate the crisis' most striking expressions”.
The main reason why this crisis has dragged on for so long, and has so often been so difficult to perceive, is precisely the capacity of the ruling class to use the state to hold off and postpone the effects of the system’s contradictions. The ruling class from the 60s onwards did not make the same mistake as in the apologists for ‘laisser-faire’ in the 1930s. Instead, an older and wiser bourgeoisie maintained and strengthened the state capitalist interference in the economy which had enabled it to respond to the crisis in the 30s and which helped to sustain the post-war boom. This was evident with the first Keynesian responses to the reawakened crisis, which often took the form of nationalisations and direct financial manipulations by the state, but, ideological fog notwithstanding, it has continued, albeit in an altered form, throughout the epoch of ‘Reaganomics’ and ‘neo-liberalism’, in which the state has tended to delegate many of its functions to private sectors with the aim of increasing productivity and the competitive edge.
The 1999 article explains how this revised relationship between state and economy operated:
“The mechanism of ‘financial engineering’ was as follows. On the one hand, the state issued bonds and securities in order to finance its enormous and ever-growing deficits which were subscribed to by the financial markets (banks, business and individuals). On the other hand, it pushed the banks to search for loans in the financial markets, and at the same time to issue bonds and securities and to carry out successive expansions of capital (issuing of shares). It was a question of a highly speculative mechanism which tried to exploit the development of a growing mass of fictitious capital (idle surplus value incapable of being invested in new capital). In this way, the weight of private funds became more important than public funds in the financing of debt (public and private).
This does not mean that there was a lessening of the weight of the state (as the ‘liberals’ proclaim), but rather there was a reply to the increasing needs of financing (and particularly immediate liquidity) which meant a massive mobilisation of all the available disposable capital”.
The credit crunch of 2007 is perhaps the clearest demonstration that the most ubiquitous cure adopted by the capitalist system in the last few decades - the resort to debt – has also poisoned the patient, postponing the immediate impact of the crisis only to raise future convulsions to an even higher level. But it also shows that, in the final analysis, this cure has been the systematic policy of the capitalist state. The credit bonanza which fuelled the housing boom prior to 2007, so often blamed on the greedy bankers, was in reality a policy decided and supported at the highest echelons of government, just as it was government which had to step in to shore up the banks and the whole tottering financial edifice in the wake of the crash. The fact that they have done this by getting even further into debt, and even by unashamedly printing money (“quantitative easing”) is further evidence that capitalism can only react to its contradictions by making them worse.
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It is one thing to show that we were right to predict the reappearance of the open economic crisis in 1969, and to offer a framework to explain why this crisis would be long drawn out affair. It is a more difficult task to show that our prediction of a resurgence of the international class struggle has also been vindicated. We will therefore devote a second part of this article to this problem, while a third part will look at what has become of the new revolutionary movement which was born out of the events of May-June 1968.
Amos, March 2018
[1] See also our short biography of Marc [17] to get a better idea of one aspect of this “active participation” in the movement. “He had the opportunity on this occasion to show one of the traits of his character, which had nothing to do with those of an armchair theoretician. Present wherever the movement was going on, in the discussions but also in the demonstrations, he spent a whole night behind a barricade with a group of young elements, having decided to hold out until morning against the police...” https://en.internationalism.org/ir/066/marc-02 [17]
[3] World Revolution 313-316
[4] International Review 96 and 97
The report we publish below was presented and discussed at an international meeting of the ICC in November 2017, with the aim of drawing out the main tendencies in the evolution of imperialist tensions. In order to do this, it based itself on the organisation’s previous texts and reports which had made an in-depth analyses of these tendencies, i.e. the orientation text ‘Militarism and Decomposition’ [19] in 1991 (published in International Review 64) and the report to the 20th International Congress [20] (published in IR 152, 2013).
Since the latter report was written, there has been a series of major events in the aggravation of imperialist tensions in the Middle East: first, the direct military incursion by Turkey in Syria on 20 January, to confront the Kurdish troops based in the region of Afrin in the north of Syria. This intervention, which had at least the tacit agreement of Russia, is heavy with future military confrontations, in particular with the USA, which in this region is allied with the Kurdish forces of the YPG, and expresses important divisions within NATO, of which both Turkey and the USA are members. Then there was the US military strike in Syria (supported by Britain and France), aimed at the presumed sites for the construction of chemical weapons, and marking a clear increase in the growth of tensions between the USA and Russia. Still more recently we had Trump’s decision to withdraw from the agreement on Iran’s nuclear programme, which has led to a sharpening of tensions between Israel and Iran but also to a more global destabilisation, since the American decision has been condemned by the majority of countries. All this highlights the risk of an uncontrolled escalation of conflicts in the Middle East (see our article), and shows that capitalism is a growing threat to humanity [21].
Over the last four years, imperialist relations have gone though some major developments: the war in Syria and the fight against IS, the Russian intervention in the Ukraine, the refugee crisis and the terrorist attacks in Europe, Brexit and the pressure of populism, the election of Trump in the USA and the accusations about Russia’s involvement in his election campaign (“Russiagate”), the tensions between the US and China over the provocations by North Korea, the opposition between Saudi Arabia and Iran (including the tensions over Qatar), the failed coup d’Etat against Erdogan and the subsequent repression in Turkey, the conflict over Kurdish autonomy, the upsurge of nationalism in Catalonia, and so on. It is thus important that the IB evaluates the extent to which these events are consistent with our general analyses of the period, but also what new orientations do they reveal?
To do this, it’s crucial, as the 1991 orientation text “Militarism and decomposition” puts it right from the start, to use a method that is adequate for understanding a situation which has no precedent:
“Contrary to the Bordigist current, the ICC has never considered marxism as an "invariant doctrine", but as living thought enriched by each important historical event. Such events make it possible either to confirm a framework and analyses developed previously, and so to support them, or to highlight the fact that some have become out of date, and that an effort of reflection is required in order to widen the application of schemas which had previously been valid but which have been overtaken by events, or to work out new ones which are capable of encompassing the new reality.
Revolutionary organizations and militants have the specific and fundamental responsibility of carrying out this effort of reflection, always moving forward, as did our predecessors such as Lenin, Rosa, Bilan, the French Communist Left, etc, with both caution and boldness:
In particular, faced with such historic events, it is important that revolutionaries should be capable of distinguishing between those analyses which have been overtaken by events and those which still remain valid, in order to avoid a double trap: either succumbing to sclerosis, or "throwing the baby out with the bath water"
Applying this approach, which is imposed by current reality, has been the basis of our ability to analyse the fundamental evolution of imperialist relations for the past 26 years.
In this perspective, the present report proposes that we should try to grasp recent events at three levels, in order to locate their importance within our framework of analysis:
This text puts forward the analytical framework for understanding the question of imperialism and militarism in the period of decomposition. It advances two fundamental orientations for characterising imperialism in the current period:
The disappearance of the blocs does not call into question the reality of imperialism and militarism
On the contrary, they become more barbaric and chaotic: “The constitution of imperialist blocs is not the origin of militarism and imperialism. The opposite is true: the formation of these blocs is only the extreme consequence (which at certain moments can aggravate the causes), an expression (and not the only one), of decadent capitalism's plunge into militarism and war…the end of the blocs only opens the door to a still more barbaric, aberrant, and chaotic form of imperialism”.
This is expressed in particular by the outbreak of extreme imperialist appetites and the multiplication of tensions and conflicts: “The difference with the period that has just ended is that these conflicts and antagonisms, which before were contained and used by the two great imperialist blocs; will now come to the forefront, because with the disappearance of the discipline imposed by the presence of the blocs, these conflicts risk becoming more violent and more numerous, in particular, of course, in zones where the proletariat is weakest”
Similarly we are seeing the development of “every man for himself” and their corollary, the attempts to contain the chaos, both of which are factors aggravating military barbarism: “the chaos which is threatening the major developed countries and their inter-relations.….. faced with the tendency towards generalized chaos which is specific to decomposition and which has been considerably accelerated by the Eastern bloc's collapse, capitalism has no other way out in its attempt to hold together its different components, than to impose the iron strait-jacket of military force. In this sense, the methods it uses to try to contain an increasingly bloody state of chaos are themselves a factor in the aggravation of military barbarism into which capitalism is plunging”.
The OT thus centrally underlines the fact that there is a historic tendency towards every man for himself, towards the weakening of US control over the world, particularly over its former allies. And at the same time, there is an attempt on its part to use military force, where it has an enormous superiority, to maintain its status and impose its control over these same ex-allies.
The increasingly barbaric and chaotic character of imperialism in the period of decomposition is a major obstacle to the reconstitution of new blocs: “the exacerbation of the latter (militarism and imperialism) in the present phase of capitalism's life paradoxically constitutes a major barrier to the re-formation of a new system of blocs taking the place of the one which has just disappeared…. the very fact that military force has become - as the Gulf conflict confirms - a preponderant factor in any attempt by the advanced countries to limit world chaos is a considerable barrier to this tendency…the reconstitution of a new pair of imperialist blocs is not only impossible for a number of years to come, but may very well never take place again”.
The USA is the only power that can play the role of world cop. The only other possible candidates for the leadership of a bloc are Germany and Japan: “the world appears as a vast free-for-all, where the tendency of ‘every man for himself’ will operate to the full, and where the alliances between states will be far from having the stability that characterized the imperialist blocs, but will be dominated by the immediate needs of the moment. A world of bloody chaos, where the American policeman will try to maintain a minimum of order by the increasingly massive and brutal use of military force”.
At the same time, the USSR will never be able to regain a role as challenger: “It is, for example, out of the question that the head of the bloc which has just collapsed - the USSR - could ever reconquer this position”.
Here again the analysis remains essentially accurate: after 25 years in the period of decomposition, there is still no perspective for the reconstitution of blocs.
In conclusion, the framework and the two main axes presented in the OT have broadly been confirmed and remain profoundly valid.
The role of the USA as sole gendarme of the world has evolved a great deal over the past 25 years: it’s one of the key questions to deepen in this report. However, the OT puts forward an orientation which has become even more concrete than the predictions we made in 1991: the fact that the actions of the USA would create further chaos. This has been strikingly illustrated by the development of terrorism today, which is to a large extent the result of the US policy in Iraq, and secondarily of the French-British intervention in Libya.
We can also say today that the analysis overestimated the potential role attributed to Japan and even Germany. Japan has been able to build up its weaponry and has gained more autonomy in certain sectors, but this is not at all comparable to the tendency towards the formation of blocs since Japan has had to submit to US protection faced with the threat from North Kore and above all from China. The potential still exists for Germany without having been seriously strengthened over the last 25 years. Germany has gained more weight, it plays a preponderant and even leading role in Europe, but on the military level it remains a dwarf, even if (unlike Japan) it has had its troops participating in as many UN “mandates” as possible, By contrast, the period has seen the emergence of China as a new rising power, a role we considerably underestimated in the past.
Finally for Russia, the analysis remains basically correct, in the sense that its position as a bloc leader in 1945 was already an “accident” of history. But the prediction that “despite its enormous arsenals, the USSR will never again be able to play a major role on the international stage” and that it. is “condemned to return to a third-rate position” have not really been confirmed: Russia has certainly not become a world-wide challenger to the USA but it plays a far from negligible role as a “troublemaker”, which is typical of decomposition, which through its alliances and military interventions is exacerbating chaos all over the world (and it has had a certain success in Ukraine and Syria, has strengthened its position vis-a-vis Turkey and Iran and has developed a cooperation with China). We undoubtedly underestimated the resources of an imperialism with its back to the wall, ready to defend its interests tooth and nail.
Locating itself in the framework of an increasingly barbaric and chaotic imperialism and of the growing impasse facing US policy, which could only further exacerbate military barbarism (axes of the report to the 19th congress[1]), the report puts forward four orientations in the development of imperialist confrontations which concretise the axes of the 91 OT:
- The growth of every man for himself, expressed in particular by a multiplication of imperialist ambitions. This was expressed concretely by:
- The growing impasse of the policies of the USA as a global cop, in particular in Afghanistan and Iraq, has led to a further plunge into military barbarism “The striking failure of the interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan has weakened the world leadership of the USA. Even if the American bourgeoisie under Obama has chosen a policy of controlled withdrawal from Iraq and Afghanistan, and has been able to reduce the impact of the catastrophic policies of Bush, it has not been able to reverse the tendency and this has lead to a further plunge into military barbarism. The execution of Bin-Laden was an attempt by the US to react to this retreat in its leadership and underline its absolute military and technological superiority. However, this reaction has not called into question the underlying trend towards retreat”.
- The tendency towards the explosive extension of zones of permanent instability and chaos: “in whole swathes of the planet, from Afghanistan to Africa, to the point where certain bourgeois analysts, such as Jacques Attali in France, talks openly about the ‘Somalisation’ of the world”
- The crisis of the eurozone (the PIGS – Portugal, Ireland, Greece and Spain) is accentuating tensions between European states and centrifugal tendencies in the EU “On the other hand, the crisis and the drastic measures being imposed are pushing towards the break-up of the EU and a rejection of the idea of submitting to the control of a particular country, i.e. are pushing towards every man for himself. The UK radically oppose the proposed measures of centralisation and in the countries of Southern Europe there is a growing anti-German nationalism. The centrifugal forces can also lead to a tendency towards the fragmentation of states, through the autonomisation of regions like Catalonia, Northern Italy, Flanders or Scotland….Thus the pressure of the crisis, through the complex inter-action of centripetal and centrifugal forces, is accentuating the process towards the break-up of the EU and exacerbating tensions between states”.
The four major orientations developed in the report also remain valid. They show clearly that the tension between on the one hand the push towards every man for himself and the efforts to control chaos, underlined by the 91 OT, are leading to an increasingly chaotic and explosive situation.
Since the 2013 report, events confirm the slide towards increasingly chaotic inert-imperialist relations. But above all, the situation is marked by its highly irrational and unpredictable character, linked to the impact of populist pressures, in particular the fact that the world’s number one power is today led by a populist president whose reactions are extremely unpredictable. An increasingly short-term approach by the bourgeoisie and the strong unpredictability that results from it are above all features of the policy of the US gendarme, but can also be seen in the policies of other imperialist powers, the developments of conflicts in the world, and the growth of tensions in Europe.
The arrival in power of Donald Trump, surfing on the populist wave, has had three main consequences:
The first concerns the unpredictability of decisions and incoherence of US foreign policy. The actions of this populist president and his administration, such as the denunciation of transpacific and transatlantic treaties, of the climate agreement, the putting into question of NATO and the nuclear treaty with Iran, unconditional support for Saudi Arabia, the bellicose set-to with North Korea or the tensions with China, are sapping the bases of international policies and agreements which had been defended by different US administrations. His unpredictable decisions, threats and poker moves have had the effect of undermining the reliability of the US as an ally: the detours, bluffs and sudden changes of position by Trump not only make the US look ridiculous but are leading to less and less countries having any confidence in the US.
At the same time,: even if the American bourgeoisie under Obama, by opting for a policy of controlled retreat from Iraq and Afghanistan, was able to reduce the impact of Bush’s disastrous policies, it hasn’t been able to reverse the basic tendency towards the decline of the sole superpower, and the impasse of US policy has been sharply accentuated by the actions of the Trump administration. At the G20 the isolation of the USA on climate change and the trade war was obvious. What’s more, Russia’s involvement in Syria to save Assad made the US step back and led to a strengthening of Russia’s influence in the Middle East, particularly in Turkey and Iran, whereas the US has not been able to contain China’s advance from outsider status in the 90s to that of a serious challenger which presents itself as a champion of globalisation.
The risk of destabilising the world situation and augmenting imperialist tensions has never been so strong, as we have seen with North Korea or Iran: the policy of the US is more than ever a direct factor in the aggravation of chaos on a global level.
The second consequence of Trump coming to power has been the opening of a major political crisis within the US bourgeoisie. The constant need to try to contain the unpredictable decisions of the president but above all the suspicions that Trump’s electoral success was largely due to support from Russia (“Russiagate”), a prospect which is totally unacceptable for the US bourgeoisie, points to a particularly delicate political situation within the US bourgeoisie and a difficulty in controlling the political game.
The incessant battle to “contain” the president plays out at several levels: the pressure exerted by the Republican party (the failed votes on getting rid of Obamacare), opposition to Trump’s plans by his own ministers (the minister of Justice Jeff Sessions refusing to resign or the ministers of foreign affairs and defence who “nuance” Trump’s proposals), the struggle for control over the White House staff by the “generals” (McMaster, Mattis). And yet these efforts don’t always stop things getting out of hand, such as in September when Trump made a deal with the Democrats to stymie Republican opposition to raising the debt ceiling.
Whatever the approach towards Russia (about which there can be divergences within the US bourgeoisie, as we shall see)), the accusations that Russia was mixed up in the presidential election campaign and that Trump has ties to the Russian mafia are extremely serious, since this would mean that for the first time ever a US president has been elected with the support of the Russians, which is unacceptable for the interests of the US bourgeoisie. If the inquiries confirm the accusations, they can only lead to impeachment proceedings for Trump.
The final consequence of Trump coming to power is the development of tensions over the options for US imperialism. The question of links with Russia is also a focus for clan confrontations within the US bourgeoisie. Since the main challenger today is China, would a rapprochement with the former head of the rival bloc and an important military power be acceptable for the US bourgeoisie in order to contain chaos, terrorism and the push from China? Could America contribute to the re-emergence of its Cold War rival and accept negotiating with it in certain areas? Would this make it possible to contain Chinese ambitions and also strike a blow against Germany? Within the Trump administration, there are numerous partisans of such a rapprochement, like Tillerson in foreign affairs and Ross in trade, as well as the president’s son-in-law Kushner. However, a considerable part of the US bourgeoisie (particularly within the army, the secret services and the Democratic Party) don’t seem prepared to make concessions at this level. In this context, the investigations into Russiagate, which imply the possibility of a US president being manipulated and blackmailed by an external enemy, are being widely exploited by these factions to make any rapprochement with Russia totally unacceptable.
Trump’s protectionist orientations and the USA’s exit from various international agreements is leading various powers, especially those in Europe and Asia, to strengthen their ties – without for the moment completely excluding the US – and to express their wish to become more independent from the USA and defend their own interests. This appeared clearly through the collaboration between Germany and China during the last G20 in Hamburg, and this collaboration between European and Asian countries could also be seen at the Bonn climate conference which aimed to concretise the objectives drawn up at the Paris conference.
The USA’s withdrawal is exacerbating the every man for himself tendency among the other big powers: we have already pointed to the aggressive imperialist stance of Russia which has enabled it to regain footholds on the global imperialist battleground (Ukraine, Syria). As regards China, in the previous report we still underestimated (a) the rapidity of its economic modernisation and (b) the internal political stability of China, which seems to have been strongly reinforced under Xi. China presents itself today as the defender of globalisation in the face of US protectionism and as a pole of planetary stability in contrast to the instability of US policies, while at the same time developing a military strategy aimed at increasing its military presence outside of China (the South China Sea).
This development of every man for himself can go hand in hand with the establishment of circumstantial alliances (China and Germany to orient the G20, the Franco-German tandem to reinforce military cooperation in Europe, China and Russia in relation to Iran), but these remain fluctuating and can’t be seen as bases for the emergence of real blocs. Let’s consider at this level the example of the alliance between China and Russia. The two powers share common interests, for example in relation to the USA in Syria and Iran, or in the Far East (North Korea) in relation to the US and Japan. They have also held joint military manoeuvres in both regions. Russia has become a major supplier of energy to China, thus reducing its dependency on the West, while China has massive investments in Siberia and supplies Russia with considerable amounts of consumer goods. However, Russia does not want to be subordinated to a powerful neighbor which it is already dependent upon to an unprecedented degree. What’s more, the two countries are also rivals in central Asia, South East Asia and the Indian peninsula: the project of the “New Silk Road” goes directly against Russian interests, while Russia is renewing its links with India, the main adversary of China in Asia (along with Japan). Finally, the rapprochement between China and the EU and with Germany in particular represents a deadly threat to Russia which could find itself squeezed between China and Germany.
Faced with the explosion of every man for himself, the efforts to “hold together the different parts of a body that is tending to break up” seem to be more and more futile, while the instability of imperialist relations makes for an unpredictable extension of areas of conflict.
The defeat of Islamic State will not reduce instability and chaos: the confrontations between Kurdish militia and the Turkish army in Syria, between Kurdish units and the Iraqi army and pro-Iranian Shia militias in Kirkuk in Iraq herald new bloody battles in the region. The stance taken by Turkey, which plays a key role in the region, is both central to the evolution of tensions and full of danger for the stability of the country itself. Turkey has important imperialist ambitions in the region, not only in Syria and Iraq, but in all the Muslim countries, from Bosnia to Qatar and Turkmenistan to Egypt, and is playing its own imperialist cards to the full: on the one hand, its status as a member of NATO is very unstable, given its taut relations with the USA and the majority of countries in Western Europe who are members of NATO, and also the tensions over the refugees and its difficult relations with Greece; on the other hand, it is now heading towards a rapprochement with Russia and even Iran, which is a direct imperialist competitor in the Middle East, while at the same time opposing itself to Saudi Arabia (refusal to withdraw troops from Qatar). At the same time, the struggle for power inside the country has sharpened, with the increasingly dictatorial practices of Erdogan and the revival of Kurdish guerilla activity. At this level, the USA’s refusal to extradite Gülen but also its support, arming and training of Kurdish militias in Iraq by the USA, are heavy with menace for the development of chaos inside Turkey itself.
The unpredictability of certain foci of tension is especially evident in the case of the North Korea. But while the root of this conflict is the increasingly overt confrontation between China and the USA, a certain number of elements make the outcome of this situation highly uncertain:
In short, the zone of war, decomposition of states and of chaos is tending to widen more and more, stretching from Ukraine to South Sudan, from Nigeria to the Middle East, from Yemen to Afghanistan, from Syria to Burma and Thailand. Here we also have to point to the extension of zones of chaos in Latin America: the growing political and economic destabilisation in Venezuela, the political and economic chaos in Brazil, the destabilisation in Mexico which will get worse if Trump’s protectionist policies towards the country are carried through. To all this must be added the extension of terrorism, its presence in the day-to-day reality of Europe, the USA, etc. The chaos spreading across the planet means that there is less and less possibility for reconstruction (whereas this could still be envisaged for Bosnia or Kosovo), as shown by the failure of the policy of the reconstruction and re-establishment of state structures in Afghanistan.
This factor, already seen as potentially present in the report to the 20th Congress, has accentuated in a spectacular manner in the last few years. With Brexit, the EU has entered a zone of considerable turbulence, while under the cover of protecting citizens against terrorism police and army budgets have risen noticeably in Western Europe and still more in Eastern Europe.
Under the pressure of economic measures, the refugee crisis, terrorist attacks and above all the electoral victories of populist movements, fractures within Europe are multiplying and antagonisms sharpening: economic pressure by the EU on Greece and Italy, the result of the Brexit referendum, the pressure of populism on European policies (Holland, Germany) and victories in the countries of Eastern Europe (Poland, Hungary and recently the Czech Republic), internal tensions in Spain with the “Catalan crisis”. A gradual dismemberment of the EU, for example via a “several speed Europe”, as currently advocated by the Franco-German duo, would produce a marked intensification of imperialist tensions in Europe.
The relationship between populism (against the “elites” and their globalist, cosmopolitan ideas, and for protectionism) and nationalism was highlighted by Trump’s speech to the UN in September: “nationalism serves an international interest: if every country thinks of itself first, things will arrange themselves for the world”. This exacerbated glorification of every man for himself (Trump’s “America First”) weighs heavily on the Catalan conflict. Against the background of the euro crisis and the drastic austerity which came in its wake, we are seeing a dramatic interaction between populism and nationalism: one the one hand a part of the middle and petty Catalan bourgeoisie which “no longer wants to pay for Spain”, or the provocations of Puigdemont’s Catalanist coalition dominated by the left and faced with a loss of credibility in power; on the “Espagnolist” side, the nationalist reaction of the Spanish prime minister Rajoy who has to deal with a crisis in the Partido Popular, which is deeply mired in corruption.
“Militarism and war have been a fundamental given of capitalism's life since its entry into decadence… if militarism, imperialism, and war are identified to such an extent with the period of decadence, it is because the latter corresponds to the fact that capitalist relations of production have become a barrier to the development of the productive forces: the perfectly irrational nature, on the global economic level, of military spending and war only expresses the aberration of these production relations' continued existence”. (“Militarism and decomposition”). The level of imperialist chaos and military barbarism today, far worse than we could have imagined 25 years ago, expresses very clearly the obsolescence of the system and the need for its overthrow.
[1] This report was not published in our press. However, the reader can refer to the section on imperialist tensions from the resolution on the international situation adopted by the Congress.
As we expected, the megaphones of the bourgeoisie have not remained quiet on the centenary of the 1917 October revolution. As in every decade, lies and contempt have animated newspaper articles, documentaries and televised speeches which have followed one after the other for several weeks. Without any great originality, intellectuals have rehashed the story of a coup d'état made by a handful of men in the service of a neurotic boss greedy for power and motivated by personal vengeance[i]. Thus, in this view, the struggle for a society without social classes and without the exploitation of man by man is just a fig-leaf for an expressly totalitarian undertaking which has its origins in the thoughts of Marx himself[ii].
It would be useless to look for any semblance of honesty among these guard dogs of democracy and the capitalist mode of production. But if this event is so well classified in the archives of history, why the desperation to deform it every ten years with so much arrogance? Why does the bourgeoisie denigrate one of the most precious episodes in the history of the struggle of the proletariat? Contrary to the words that it spreads through its media, the bourgeoisie knows very well that the class that failed to overturn its world a hundred years ago still exists today. It is also aware that its world is still more ailing than it was in 1917. And its survival depends on its capacity to intelligently and unfailingly use the weapons at its disposal so as to avoid a new October which could, this time, see a result for the historic aim of the working class. Very quickly the bourgeoisie understood the weight that the revolution in Russia could have on the world's social order. Thus, after tearing themselves apart for four years, the principal powers of the time made common cause in order to stem the proletarian wave which threatened to submerge a society which had nothing more to offer, except war.
Against official history, according to which the October 17 revolution contained in embryo the traces of its degeneration, this article aims to show that the isolation of the Russian proletariat is first of all due to the coordination of bourgeois governments ready to take up this class war whose outcome would turn out to be decisive for the course of history. It will also show that from 1917 to today, different factions of the dominant class have used all the weapons at their disposal to block and repress the revolution, then mislead and denigrate its memory and its lessons.
In June 1917, faced with continuing war and the imperialist programme of the Provisional Government, the proletariat reacted with animation. During the enormous demonstrations of June 18 in Petrograd the internationalist slogans of the Bolsheviks became the majority for the first time. At the same time, the Russian military offensive ended in a fiasco when the German army pierced the front in several places. The news of the setback for the offensive arrived in the capital and stoked the revolutionary flames. In order to confront this very tense situation, the idea appeared of provoking a premature revolt in Petrograd: crush the workers and the Bolsheviks by putting the responsibility for the military offensive's setback on the proletariat of the capital who had "stabbed in the back" those at the front. For this the bourgeoisie came up with several machinations aimed at pushing the workers in the capital into a revolt. The resignation of four members of the Cadet Party from the government and pressure from the Entente on the Provisional Government led the Mensheviks and the Social-Revolutionaries to rally to the bourgeois government[iii]; which only re-launched the clamour for the immediate taking of power by the soviets. Further, the threat of sending the regiments of the capital to the front only increased the soldier's discontent, which then moved in the direction of an armed uprising against the Provisional Government. The July 3 demonstration would have turned out to be catastrophic for the continuation of the revolution if the Bolshevik Party hadn't succeeded in calming the ardour of the masses and preventing them from a premature confrontation with troops under the command of the government. In these crucial days the party remained faithful to the proletariat by turning it away from the trap laid by the bourgeoisie. But these provocations were small-scale compared to the repression and the campaigns of lies that confronted the Bolsheviks in the days following. As today, the Bolsheviks were charged with the worst accusations: German agents paid by the Kaiser, snipers who fired isolated shots at the troops entering Petrograd. All means were used in order to discredit the party in the eyes of the workers in the capital. It was the deployment of enormous energy and thanks to a great political discernment that the Bolsheviks were able to defend their honour. If the July Days revealed the indispensable role of the party, they also revealed the real nature of the Mensheviks and S-Rs. In fact their support for the bourgeois government in these crucial days [iv] was the cause of their discrediting among the masses. Thus, as Lenin wrote: “A new period is coming in. The victory of the counter revolutionaries is making the people disappointed with the Socialist-Revolutionary and Menshevik parties and is paving the way for the masses to adopt a policy of support for the revolutionary proletariat. "[v].
In an interview given to the journalist and militant socialist John Reed some time before the taking of the Winter Palace, Rodzianko, the Russian "Rockefeller" stated: "the revolution is a sickness. Sooner or later, the foreign powers will have to intervene, as one must care for a sick child and teach him how to walk".[vi]
This intervention wasn't long in coming. Very quickly, diplomats of the big powers were in agreement with the Russian bourgeoisie in order to settle this question with some urgency. For the chief of British intelligence in Russia, Sir Samuel Hoare, the best solution was the installation of a military dictatorship. The Officer's Union of the army and the fleet proposed the same solution. This was also expressed by the Culture Minister, Kartachev, a member of the Cadet Party: "whoever is not afraid of being cruel and brutal will take the power in their hands".[vii]
The attempted Kornilov[viii] coup d'état in August 1917 was supported by London and Paris and the setback for this first counter-revolutionary attempt was far from discouraging for the world bourgeoisie. Henceforth for the Allies, it was a question of stopping the growing influence of the Bolsheviks among the ranks of the proletariat of Russia. On November 3, a secret conference took place of military allies in Russia in the office of the chief of the Red Cross, Colonel Thompson. Faced with the "Bolshevik peril", the American, General Knox quite simply proposed picking up the Bolsheviks and shooting them[ix]. But on November 7, the Military Revolutionary Committee took the Winter Palace and power was in the hands of the Petrograd Soviet. For the world bourgeoisie, military intervention now remained the sole option; much more so as the echo of the revolution was being felt throughout Europe.
Straightaway, the 2nd Congress of Soviets adopted the decree on peace which proposed to the belligerents an immediate peace without annexations. But this appeal found no response among the allied powers who wanted to draw the conflict out while waiting for American help. For the Central Powers, the liberation of the Eastern front allowed them to reorganise before the United States entered the war. A truce of three weeks was thus signed at Brest-Litovsk November 22, with the General Staff of Austria and Germany. Negotiations opened on December 9 between the two parties, but the same day, the battle of Rostov-on-Don between the Red Guards and the White armies, heralded the opening of the civil war.[x] After seizing power, the hardest test now stood in front of the proletariat of Russia. While waiting for an extension of the revolution to the rest of Europe, it was necessary to prepare for a confrontation with the counter-revolutionary forces of the interior that were well supported by the major powers.
The counter-revolution was really organised in the days following the elections to the Constituent Assembly which was marked by a majority hostile to the Soviet government. At the end of November, generals Alexiev, Kornilov and Denikin, and the Cossak Kaledin, set up the army of volunteers in the south of Russia. At the beginning it was composed of about 300 officers. This army was the first military reaction of the Russian bourgeoisie. Its financing was provided by: "the plutocracy of Rostov-on-the-Don which raised six-and-a-half million roubles, that of Novocherkassk about two million". Made up of officers favourable to a restoration of the monarchy, it held, "the embryo of a class character" according to the Russian general Denikin[xi].
The Soviet government couldn't allow this army to be set up without reacting and the revolution had to strengthen itself on the military level. On January 28, 1918, the Council of People's Commissars adopted a decree aimed at transforming the Red Guard into a workers’ and peasants’ Red Army made up "of the most conscious and best organised elements of the labouring classes"[xii]. But the organisation of this army remained a difficult task. In fact, due to the lack of competent communist leaders, Trotsky recruited from the officer corps of the Tsarist army. By the beginning of 1918, the balance of force was hardly in favour of the Russia of the Soviets. Germany and Austro-Hungary profited from the breakdown of the army and then from its demobilisation on January 30 in order to put an end to the armistice signed some weeks before. In a radio programme reported in Pravda, the Council of People's Commissars protested: "regarding the offensive launched by the German government against the Soviet Republic of Russia which proclaimed the end of the state of war and begun to demobilise the army on all fronts. The workers and peasants government of Russia could expect a less similar attitude; the armistice had not been denounced by any of the contracting parties neither directly nor indirectly, neither February 10, nor any other moment as both parties were bound by the agreement of December 2,[xiii] 1917."
In fact Germany used the pretext of the independence of Ukraine to go onto the offensive with the consent of the Rada, the bourgeois government of Ukraine. A rout of the Red Guard followed, recalled by the Bolshevik Primakov:
"The retreat of the Red Guard resembles a great exodus. More than a hundred thousand, accompanied by their families, fled Ukraine. Tens of thousands of others dispersed into the villages, the hamlets, the forests and the ravines of Ukraine (...) The heavy burden of war, the violence of the occupying troops, the arrogance of the German lieutenants, the impudence of the haidamaks (Cossack paramilitaries), the bloody vengeance of the big owners, the betrayal of the Rada central, the open pillage of the country only inflamed popular hatred. The government of the central Rada was known as the Government of Betrayal."[xiv]
It is in this very difficult situation that the first mass levies of the Red Army took place while the question of peace was more and more pressing for the survival of the revolution.
If, in order to gain time in the first place, the Republic of Soviets adopted a strategy of "neither war, nor peace", the delayed European revolution made the signing of the peace inevitable despite the shameful conditions imposed by the Central Empire which amputated a huge part of Russian territory. We know that afterwards the question of the peace gave rise to debates within the Bolshevik Party and the left S-R's. It's not the place here to dwell on these. But with this setback the position defended by Lenin, accepted by the Seventh Party Congress, turned out to be the best adapted to the situation.[xv]
In the weeks and months that followed, the Republic of Soviets was encircled on all fronts and the White Armies were set up in several parts of the country. In Samara, the Czechoslovakian legion was set up by the Entente powers[xvi] sowing terror along the Trans-Siberian railway line in important conurbations, thus facilitating the uprisings. Subsequently, the Anglo-Americans landed at Murmansk, the Whites occupied the south of western Russia, the Germans and Austrians came into the Don region and Japanese troops landed at Vladivostok...
At the beginning of summer 1918, the situation of the Republic of Soviets was becoming very alarming. On July 29 Lenin wrote: "Murmansk to the north, the Czechoslovak front in the east, Turkestan, Baku and Astrakhan in the south-east, we are seeing that all the chains forged by imperialism are in place." We can see that the engagement of the powers of the Entente was decisive for the organisation of the counter-revolution - a detail that our good democrats prefer to avoid. At the beginning of 1919, about 25,000 British, French, Italian, American and Serb soldiers were mobilised between Archangel and Murmansk[xvii] in a fight to the death against "the Bolshevik peril", which would continue to spread "if it wasn't stopped", according to Clemenceau.
The testimony of a member of the Expeditionary Force, Ralph Albertson, bears eloquent witness to the determination and barbarity used by this anti-communist coalition: "We used all the exploding gas shells possible against the Bolsheviks... We laid all the booby-traps possible when we evacuated the villages. Once we shot more than twenty prisoners... And when we took the commissar at Borok, a sergeant told me that his body had been left in the street, wounded by more than sixteen bayonet cuts. We took Borok by surprise and the commissar, a civilian, had no time to take up arms... I heard an officer tell his men that they weren't to take prisoners, that they had to kill them even if they were unarmed... I saw unarmed Bolshevik prisoners, causing no trouble, slaughtered in cold blood... Every night a battalion of incendiaries caused masses of victims."[xviii]
The peace of Brest-Litovsk only stirred up the hatred of the different counter-revolutionary factions but also of the left S-R's against the Bolsheviks. From this time on, the Russia of the Soviets appeared like a besieged fortress where hunger "is at the door of many towns, villages, factories and mills", as Trotsky related. The alliance of the Whites and the western powers plunged the revolution into a situation of a permanent struggle for survival. Moreover, from March 15, 1918, the different governments of the Entente decided to reject the peace of Brest-Litovsk and organised an armed intervention. But while the Entente powers were intervening directly in Russia, they also counted on the betrayal of the Socialist-Revolutionary Party in order to advance the counter-revolution. In June 1918, the ex-assistant of Kerensky, the S-R Boris Savinkov, forecast the assassination of Lenin and Trotsky and started up an insurrection in Rybinsk and Yaroslav so as to facilitate landings by the Allies. In other words, in view of the extreme weakness of the Red Army, a great offensive was put into action in order to finish with the revolution once and for all.
As Savinkov relates, the Whites hoped to "encircle the capital with uprisings in the towns and, using the support of the Allies and Czechoslovaks to the north, who had just taken Samara on the Volga, putting the Bolsheviks in a difficult situation". We now know, thanks to the memoires published by several foreign secret agents and to investigations appearing in Pravda some years later, as well as diplomatic sources, that Britain and France were at the heart of this plot. The plans for insurrections in the towns around Moscow, the foreign landings, the Czechoslovak offensive were part of one and the same scheme orchestrated by the foreign military and diplomats and executed by leading S-R's who were ferociously opposed to peace with Germany and to the extension of the revolution.[xix]
The Czechoslovak regiments, guided by the Allies, took Samara on June 8 and then laid siege to Omsk. A month later they took Zlatoust in the Urals then, a few days later, they approached Yekaterinburg where the Imperial family was interned. The liberation of this family would have allowed the unification of the counter-revolutionary forces that were having a difficult time settling their own arguments and divergences. The Bolsheviks didn't want to run this risk and decided to execute the whole family. This decision was motivated by the necessity to intimidate the enemy and to show it, as Trotsky wrote some years later, "that there was no retreat possible, that the issue was total victory or total defeat". Despite everything, this decision was turned back against the Bolsheviks. The execution of the Tsar's children was utilised by the international bourgeoisie in its propaganda campaigns so as to present the Bolsheviks as barbarians thirsty for blood.
In July and August the offensive continued with the French and British landing in Murmansk in the north where they installed an “autonomous” government. The Turks and the British occupied Azerbaijan. The Germans went into Georgia with the consent of the Mensheviks while the Czech legions continued their advance towards the west. These weeks turned out to be decisive for the defence of the revolution, whose survival was hanging by a thread. At Sviajsk, close to Kazan, after several days of fighting, the extremely weakened high-command of the 5th Army could have all been captured with its main military chiefs beginning with Trotsky. A lack of information and strategic errors by the White generals allowed Trotsky and his men to escape. Given the extreme weakness of the Soviet power, the capture of its main leaders would have dealt a fatal blow to the morale and determination of the troops.
In the north, the British took command of all the armies of the region. Outside of four or five British battalions, the force was composed of four or five American battalions, one French, one Polish and one Italian plus some mixed formations[xx]. A Russian army was also organised but remained under the command and supervision of the British. At the beginning of August, this northern army took Archangel, overthrew the soviet and set up a provisional government composed of S-R cadets and controlled by British general Pool.
At the same time, the Commune of Baku fell in mid-August faced with an offensive by the Turkish army, some moussavatists (Azerbaijan nationalists) and some British regiments. Twenty-six people's commissars were gunned down on September 18 by the British[xxi].
Different factions of the Russian bourgeoisie profited from this difficult context in order to destabilise the power of the Soviets by fomenting plots which could have turned out to be disastrous for the revolution.
A counter-revolutionary bloc was formed from May and June 1918, going from monarchists to some Mensheviks and S-R's. All these rallied around a "National Centre" that was originally created by the Cadets. The main leaders of the movement worked to collect political and military information which they transmitted to different White armies and maintained close relations with British, French and American secret agents. Moreover, a special conference was held in October 1918, composed of representatives of the Entente countries and the National Centre. The Cheka reacted rapidly, taking account of the existence of this single centre of the counter-revolution.
But that didn't prevent attempts aiming to destabilise the Soviet Republic. August 30, the chief of the Cheka, Ouritsky, was assassinated by an S-R. Some hours later an attempt was made on the life of Lenin when he came out of the Michaelson factory. But these two attempts were part of a much wider enterprise aimed at liquidating all of the leading Bolsheviks: "On August 15, Bruce Lockhart (a British secret agent) received a visit from an officer who presented himself as Colonel Berzine, the commander of the Latvian Guard of the Kremlin. He handed over a letter of recommendation written by Cromey, the British naval attaché to Petrograd. Berzine declared that, although they had initially supported the Bolsheviks, the Latvians didn't want to fight against the British who had landed at Archangel. After discussing with Groener, the French General Counsel, Lockhart put Berzine in touch with Railey. At the end of August, Groener presided over a secret meeting of certain Allied representatives. It was held at the General Consulate of the United States. Railey and another spy, George Hill, as well as Moscow's Figaro correspondent, René Marchand, were in attendance. Raily recounts in his memoires that he made it known that he had bought Berzine for two million roubles. It was a question of a single blow seizing the leading Bolsheviks who were due at a meeting of their Central Committee. The British were in touch with General Yudenitch and were preparing to supply him with arms and material. (...) After the assassination of Ouritski, the Cheka, who were on the plotters’ scent, had penetrated the British embassy in Petrograd. Cromey fired on the police, killing a commissar and several agents. He was shot and so was the naval attaché who was about to burn some compromising papers. But there was still enough left to enlighten the investigators; Raily managed to escape. After several months he got back to London where he accused Marchand of having betrayed him... As to Berzine, the Soviet press subsequently revealed that he had indicated to his chiefs that Bruce Lockhart and Raily had offered him two million roubles to participate in the assassination of the leading Bolsheviks."[xxii]
The arrest of Bruce Lockhart concluded an enquiry that fully demonstrated the foreign participation in the plot and the scheming of the Whites[xxiii].
This failed plot was nonetheless one of the culminating points of the counter-revolution. At this stage the fall of the Soviet Republic seemed imminent. Faced with such a situation, the Red Terror was decreed on September 6. But if this measure was a major error[xxiv] we must admit that it was imposed by the force of events, that's to say by the terrorist practices of the foreign powers and the White armies.
Officially, the bourgeois governments intervened in Russia in defence of democracy and against the "Bolshevik Peril". But in reality, the installation of a democracy was the last thing on the minds of the powers of the Entente who, before everything, were determined to avoid the extension of the revolutionary wave which was gaining ground in Germany by the end of 1918. The French, British and American bourgeoisies were prepared to do anything in order to defend their interests. Thus, from the beginning of the civil war, the invading armies acted like bloody hordes, supporting or installing military dictatorships in the territories re-taken from the Red Army. This is what happened for example at the beginning of January 1919, when General Miller landed at Archangel and proclaimed himself Governor General of the town and Minister of War. Leading an army of 20,000 men, made up of peasants and monarchist fishermen who hated the communists, he unleashed a reign of terror on the region. The old prosecutor of the province, Dobrovolsky, recalls that "the partisans of Pinet were so ferocious that the commander of the 8th regiment, a Colonel B., decided to produce a pamphlet on the human attitude to have towards prisoners".[xxv]
Moreover, the Allies didn't hesitate in directly supporting the armies of the main White army chiefs, partisans of a very authoritarian power such as Denikin and Kolchak. The offensive of the latter, undertaken from Siberia to the outskirts of Moscow at the end of 1918, was in great part made with a military arsenal supplied by the foreign powers: "The United States delivered 600,000 rifles and hundreds of cannons, many thousands of machine-guns, munitions, tools, uniforms, Britain 200,000 tools, 2000 machine-guns, 500 million bullets. France 30 planes and more than 200 automobiles. Japan 70,000 rifles, 30 cannons, 100 machine-guns, the necessary munitions and 120,000 tools. In order to pay for these deliveries which allowed him to furnish an army of more than 400,000 men, Kolchak sent from Hong-Kong 184 tonnes of gold, treasure which had been given to him"[xxvi].
It was this military division of labour between the Allies and the White Armies which the proletariat in Russia had to face up to throughout the year 1919. Lenin was well aware of the extreme fragility of the Soviet power and this is why he saw the need to denounce the role of the Tsarist generals in collaborating with the foreign armies:
“Kolchak and Denikin are the chief, and the only serious, enemies of the Soviet Republic. If it were not for the help they are getting from the Entente (Britain, France, America) they would have collapsed long ago. It is only the help of the Entente which makes them strong. Nevertheless, they are still forced to deceive the people, to pretend from time to time that they support ‘democracy’, a ‘constituent assembly’, ‘government by the people’, etc. The Mensheviks and Socialist-Revolutionaries are only too willing to be duped.
The truth about Kolchak (and his double, Denikin) has now been revealed in full. The shooting of tens of thousands of workers. The shooting even of Mensheviks and Socialist-Revolutionaries. The flogging of peasants of entire districts. The public flogging of women. The absolutely unbridled power of the officers, the sons of landowners. Endless looting. Such is the truth about Kolchak and Denikin”.[xxvii]
This great counter-revolutionary alliance was even more vital when the revolution broke out in Germany in 1918. As the American historians, M. Sayers and A. Khan relate in The Great Conspiracy against Russia:
"The reason why the Allies didn't march on Berlin, and definitively disarm German militarism, resides in their fear of Bolshevism. The Allied Commander-in-Chief, Marshall Foch, revealed in his memoirs that, from the opening of peace negotiations, the German spokesmen constantly evoked the threat of the ‘Bolshevik invasion of Germany'... General Wilson of the British High Command recalled in his 'War Diary' that, November 9, 1918, two days before the signature on the Armistice, 'the cabinet met this night, from 6:30 to 8 o'clock, Lloyd George read two telegrams from 'Tiger' (Clemenceau) in which he told of an interview of Foch with the Germans: Tiger dreads the fall of Germany and the victory of Bolshevism in this country: 'Lloyd George asked me if I wanted that to happen or if I preferred an armistice. I replied without hesitation 'Armistice'. The whole cabinet agreed with me. For us, the real danger from now on wasn't the Germans, but Bolshevism'".
The fear of the extension of the revolution to the whole of Europe sharpened the determination of the bourgeois powers to definitively break the power of the Soviets. At the Peace Conference, Clemenceau was the most ferocious defender of this policy: "The Bolshevik danger is very great at this present hour; it is spreading. It has won over the Baltic Provinces and Poland; and, this morning, we have received very bad news, because it has spread to Budapest and Vienna. Italy is also in danger. The danger is probably greater there than in France. If Bolshevism, after spreading to Germany, crossed Austria and Hungary, taking in Italy, Europe would have to face a very great danger. That is why it is necessary to do something against Bolshevism."
Affirming loud and clear at this conference, "the right of peoples to self-determination", the bourgeoisie would not leave the world proletariat to make up its own mind at the risk of putting bourgeois society in peril. For both camps, the key to victory resided in the extension or isolation of the revolution. Also the fear of the bourgeoisie can be measured against the degree of violence and the atrocities which they carried out in Russia, Germany, Hungary and Italy. Because behind the veil of "the rights of man" hides the interests of a ruling class which always uses the worst measures when it's a question of its own survival.
The striking speeches of Clemenceau (above) allow us to understand his insistence on decreeing a total blockade of Russia and working for the neighbouring states to remain hostile to the Soviet Republic[xxviii].
And also arising from this, his determination to combat the revolutionary wave. The delay in making the revolution by the European and world proletariat plunged the Russian bastion into complete isolation. The Soviet Republic henceforth became a "besieged fortress" trying to resist immense difficulties. In 1919-1920, the effects of rationing and the subjugation of production to the needs of war applied during the course of the war, was making itself felt still more in this country. To this could be added the devastation of the civil war and the economic blockade imposed by the democratic powers between March 1918 and the beginning of 1920. All imports were blocked, including solidarity parcels sent by the proletariat of other countries. The White armies and those of the Entente had the coal of the Ukraine and the oil of Baku and the Caucasus in their grip, engendering a shortage of combustible material. The combustibles which reached the towns were down to 10% of that consumed before World War I. Famine in the towns was terrible where everything was in short supply. Heavy industry workers received first category rations which didn't go beyond 900 calories.
Evidently, this situation also had repercussions on the state of the soldiers of the Red Army who were prey to hunger, cold and sickness. In October 1919, the White troops of Yudenitch threatened Petrograd and the brigade commander, Kotovsky from the Ukraine, appealed for reinforcements. On November 4 Kotovsky sent an edifying report: "A generalised epidemic of typhus, scabies, eczema and sickness due to the cold following a lack of laundry, uniforms and baths. All this puts out of action 75 to 85% of our old fighting force who are, on the way to, or remaining in clinics and hospitals". Faced with the protests of some regiments, the brigade was rested. It could have been worse: "we were confronted with other difficulties, wrote a soldier. A typhoid epidemic has broken out and sicknesses due to the frost have ravaged the brigade. Soldiers and officers live in unheated barracks and receive starvation rations: 200 grams of 'soukhari' (a sort of grilled bread) and 300 grams of cabbage. It makes my heart ache to see our horses dying for lack of forage"[xxix]. Trotsky depicted in sombre terms the appearance of these same troops who were supposed to defend the main bastion of the Russian proletariat: "The workers of Petrograd do not look good: pasty-faced because of their hunger and lack of food, ragged clothed, boots with holes in, mismatched clothes."
After 1921, shortages continued and rationing became yet more drastic: "the ration of black bread was still on 800 grams for the workers of refineries and 600 grams for the model workers. The ration was decreased to 200 grams for holder of a ‘B card’ (unemployed). Herring stocks, which in other circumstances had saved the day, were completely lacking. Potatoes arrived frozen in the towns because of the lamentable state of the railways (running at hardly 20% of their pre-war potential). At the beginning of spring, 1921, an atrocious famine ravaged the western provinces of the Volga region. According to statistics recognised by the Congress of Soviets, between 2 and 2.7 millions suffered from hunger, cold, typhoid, diphtheria, influenza, etc."[xxx]
In the factories, the super-exploitation of workers didn't prevent the fall in production. The lack of food and the chaos of the economy pushed some to migrate to the countryside and others to leave the big firms for small workshops making barter easier. In these conditions, it was decided to enact the New Economic Policy (NEP) which put a brake on the statification of production.
The civil war left behind it a country bled white. Close to 980,000 deaths in the ranks of the Red Army and 3 million in the civil population. The already existing famine was amplified in the summer of 1921 with a terrible drought spreading throughout the Volga basin.
Even if, faced with the development of mutinies and the revolutionary "danger" on their own territory, the foreign powers withdrew their own troops during 1920, and if the counter-revolutionary armies had never really been up to re-taking power, gangrened as they were by internal quarrels, the lack of discipline and the absence of coordination, the world bourgeoisie nevertheless succeeded in stopping the revolutionary wave which had burst out after four years of imperialist war. The total isolation of Soviet Russia signalled the kiss of death for the revolution and plunged it into degeneration[xxxi].
As we will see in the second part of this article, it is in this context that Social Democracy and then Stalinism delivered the coup de grace to the October revolution and to its heritage.
Narek, April 8 2018.
[i] These are more or less the terms that Stephane Courtois used in a radio programme to describe the personality and motivations of Lenin.
[ii] A view expressed by Thierry Wolton at the start of the programme 28 minutes on the Arte channel of October 17, 2017.
[iii] The article by Lenin, "What can the Cadets have counted on when they withdrew from the cabinet”, written July 3, shows the clarity of the Bolsheviks on this issue.
[iv] Particularly in the repression of the demonstration of July 3rd.
[v] Lenin, "Constitutional illusions [22]".
[vi] Quoted in Pierre Durant, Les sans-culottes du bout du monde. 1917 - 1921, Editions du Progres, 1977.
[vii] Jean-Jaques Marie, La guerre civile russe. 1917 - 1922. Armees paysannes rouges, blanches et vertes. Editions autrement, 2005.
[viii] For complementary information on the coup d'état of Kornilov, see the ICC's Manifesto on the October Revolution 1917 [23].
[ix] Pierre Durant Op. cit.
[x] Jean-Jaques Marie, Op. cit.
[xi] Quoted by Jean-Jaques Marie, Op. cit.
[xii] While we think that in such circumstances the formation of a Red Army was indeed necessary, we consider that the dissolution of the Red Guard, the specific organ of the arming of the workers, was a mistake that amounted to the disarming of the revolutionary class.
[xiii] "Planned radio programme to the government of the German Reich" drawn up by Trotsky in Lenin, Oeuvres choises, Editions du Progres, Moscow, 1968.
[xiv] Quoted by Jean-Jaques Marie, Op. cit.
[xv] For more detail on this question see: "Brest-Litovsk: gaining time for the world revolution", Revolution Internationale, no. 48 (Brest-Litovsk : gagner du temps pour la Révolution mondiale [24]).
[xvi] See Jean-Jaques Marie, La Guerre des Russes Blancs, 1917 - 1920, Tallandier, 2017.
[xvii] Pierre Durant, Op. cit. p. 191.
[xviii] Quoted by Pierre Durant, Op. cit. p. 190.
[xix] Pierre Durant, Op. cit. p. 89.
[xx] Jean-Jaques Marie, Op. cit, p. 79.
[xxi] Ibid, p. 81.
[xxii] Ibid, pages 116-117.
[xxiii] Pierre Durand, Op. cit.
[xxiv] Along with Rosa Luxemburg, the ICC rejects the idea of Red Terror: "Even if it was necessary to respond firmly to the counter-revolutionary plots of the old dominant class and create a special organ with the aim of repressing them, the Cheka, this organ rapidly escaped the control of the Soviets and had the tendency to become infected with the moral and material corruption of the old social order". Manifesto on the October revolution [23]
[xxv] Quoted in Jean-Jaques Marie, La guerre civile russe, Op. cit. P. 94.
[xxvi] Quoted in Jean-Jaques Marie, Op. cit., p. 99.
[xxvii] “All out for the fight against Denikin [25]. Letter of the Central Committee of the Russian Communist Party (Bolsheviks) to party organizations”
[xxviii] Jean-Jaques Marie, La guerre des Russes blancs, Op, cit., p. 436.
[xxix] Quoted in Jean-Jaques Marie, La guerre civile, op. cit., p. 164.
[xxx] ICC pamphlet, Octobre 17, debut de la revolution mondiale. L'isolement c'est la mort de la révolution [26]
[xxxi] "The degeneration of the Russian revolution [3]", International Review no. 3.
A hundred years ago we were at height of the world revolutionary wave – more precisely, the outbreak of the revolution in Germany, a year after the proletariat took power in Russia, in October 1917.
As in Russia, the working class in Germany gave rise to workers’ councils, organs for unifying all workers and for the eventual taking of political power. Because it took place in the most industrialised country in the capitalist world, with the most numerous working class, the revolution in Germany had the potential to break the isolation of the proletarian power in Russia and to extend the revolution across Europe. The bourgeoisie was aware of this and it brought the imperialist war to an end, signing the armistice of 11 November 1918 because continuing the war would have further radicalised the masses and discredited all factions of the bourgeoisie, especially its most ‘left factions, which is what had happened n Russia in the months following the February 1917 revolution. Furthermore, although most of the right wing factions of the state apparatus were in total disarray because of the military disaster, the German bourgeoisie was able to rely on the social democratic traitors to weaken and then crush the working class and its revolution in Germany. This is a fundamental lesson for the revolution of the future, since it will again run up against all the left and extreme left factions of capital working overtime to undo the class struggle.
We are publishing a new article entitled
‘Revolution in Germany: 100 years ago, the proletariat made the bourgeoisie tremble’.
We also recommend some older articles to our readers:
‘90 years ago, the German revolution’. A series of five articles, the first of which was published in international Review 133 and the last in IR 137:
Germany 1918-19 (i): Faced with the war, the revolutionary proletariat renews its internationalist principles [28]; (ii): From war to revolution [29]; (iii): Formation of the party, absence of the International [30]; (iv) Civil War [31]; (v): From Noske to Hitler [32].
‘The German revolution’: a series of 13 articles, the first of which was published in IR 81 and the last in IR 99: (i) Revolutionaries in Germany during World War 1 [33]; (ii): The Start of the Revolution [34]; (iii) The Premature Insurrection [35]; (iv) Fraction or New Party? [36]; (v): From the work of a fraction to the foundation of the KPD [37]; (vi): The Failure to Build the Organisation [38]; (vii): The Foundation of the KAPD [39]; (viii): The Kapp Putsch [40]; (ix): The March Action of 1921: the danger of petty-bourgeois impatience [41]; (x): The reflux of the revolutionary wave and the degeneration of the International [42]; (xi): The communist left and the growing conflict between the Russian state and the interests of the world revolution [43]; (xii): Germany 1923: The bourgeoisie inflicts a decisive defeat on the working class [44]; (xiii): 1923, Part 2 A defeat that marked the end of the world revolutionary wave [45]
“100 Years ago, the proletariat made the ruling class tremble”. This title may sound odd today because this immense historical event has more or less been consigned to oblivion. The bourgeoisie has succeeded in erasing it from the memory of the working class. And yet in 1918, all eyes were on Germany – a source of hope for the proletariat, and of fear for the bourgeoisie.
The working class had just taken power in Russia. 1917. The Bolsheviks. The soviets. The insurrection. Or as Lenin put it: “The Russian revolution is only one of the contingents of the international socialist army, on the action of which the success and triumph of our revolution depends. This is a fact which none of us lose sight of. We likewise bear in mind that the vanguard role of the Russian proletariat in the working-class movement is not due to the economic development of the country. On the contrary, it is the backwardness of Russia, the inability of what is called our native bourgeoisie to cope with the enormous problems connected with the war and its cessation that have led the proletariat to seize political power and establish its own class dictatorship” (Speech to the conference of factory committees in the Moscow province, July 23 1918)
Germany was the bolt on the door between East and West. A victorious revolution here would open the way to the revolutionary class struggle throughout the old continent of Europe. None of the bourgeoisies wanted to see this door unbolted. This is why the bourgeoisie was to direct all its hatred, and all its most sophisticated manoeuvres, against it. The revolution in Germany would determine the success or failure of the world revolution which had begun in Russia.
The power of the working class
1914: The world war breaks out. It brought 4 years in which the working class was subjected to the worst butchery in the history of humanity. The trenches. Poison gas. Famine. Millions of dead. Four years in which the trade unions and the social democratic parties took advantage of their glorious proletarian past – which they betrayed in 1914 by supporting the bourgeoisie’s war effort - and the confidence they were accorded by the workers to impose all kinds of sacrifices and to justify the war. But during these four years the working class, little by little, began to fight back. Strikes in a succession of cities. Unrest in the army. And of course, faced with this, the bourgeoisie did not remain inert. It reacted ferociously. “Ringleaders” in the factories, fingered by the unions, were arrested. Soldiers were shot for indiscipline or desertion.
1916. On the First of May Karl Liebknecht[1] raised the cry: “Down with the war! Down with the government!” Rosa Luxemburg was jailed, alongside other revolutionary socialists - Meyer, Eberlein, Mehring (who was then 70 years old)[2]. Karl Liebknecht was sent to the front. But the repression wasn’t enough to silence the discontent. On the contrary: it gave rise to growing agitation in the factories.
1917: the unions came under more and more criticism. The “Obleute” appeared in the factories – the “Men of Confidence”, essentially rank and file union delegates who had broken with the union leadership. Above all, the workers of Germany were inspired by the courage of their class brothers and sisters in the East. The echo of the October revolution was being heard far and wide.
1918. The German bourgeoisie was becoming aware of the danger and it realised that it needed to extricate itself from the war. But the most backward part of the ruling class, linked to the old aristocracy, and especially the military aristocracy, didn’t understand what was at stake and rejected any idea of peace or any talk of defeat. Concretely, in November, the naval command based in Kiel insisted on one final battle to save its “honour” – using the rank and file sailors as cannon fodder of course. But on several ships the sailors mutinied and raised the red flag. The order was given to the ships that hadn’t been “infected” to fire on them. The mutineers surrendered, refusing to fire on their own class comrades. As a result, they faced the death penalty. But in solidarity with those who had been condemned, a wave of strikes broke out among the workers of Kiel. Inspired by the October revolution, the working class took charge of its struggle and created the first workers’ and soldiers’ councils. The bourgeoisie then called in one of its most loyal guard-dogs: social democracy. The SPD leader Gustav Noske, the specialist in military matters and in “maintaining troop morale” was dispatched to the spot to stifle the danger. But he arrived too late. The workers’ and soldiers’ councils were already spreading to other ports and the great working class centres of the Ruhr and Bavaria. Faced with this geographic extension of the movement, Noske could not attack it head on. On 7 November the Kiel workers’ council called for revolution, proclaiming “power is in our hands”. On 8 November, practically the whole of north-west Germany was under the control of the councils. In Bavaria, Saxony, local princes abdicated. Workers’ councils spread to all the cities of the Empire, from Metz to Berlin.
It was precisely the generalisation of this mode of political organisation that made the bourgeoisie tremble. The unification of the class in workers’ councils, with delegates elected by assemblies and revocable at any moment, is an extremely dynamic form of organisation. The councils are a real expression of the revolutionary process, the place where the working class comes together, debates the goals of its struggle, takes control of social life. After the experience of 1917, the bourgeoisie understood this very well. This is why it focused on undermining the councils from within, taking advantage of the considerable illusions the working class still had in its old party, the SPD. Thus Noske was elected to the head of the workers’ council in Kiel. This weakness of our class would have tragic consequences in the weeks that followed. We will come back to this. But for now, on the morning of 9 November, the struggle was still developing. In Berlin, the workers demonstrated outside the barracks to rally the soldiers to their cause and freed their class comrades from prison. The bourgeoisie then understood that the war had to end right away and that the Kaiser had to go. It was drawing the lessons from the mistakes made by the Russian bourgeoisie. On 9 November 1918 Kaiser Wilhelm abdicated. On 11 November, the armistice was signed.
The struggle of the workers of Germany had hastened the end of the war, but it was the bourgeoisie which signed the peace treaty and was to use this event to act against the revolution.
The Machiavellianism of the bourgeoisie
A brief summary of the balance of forces at the beginning of the civil war in November 1918:
The SPD thus took up one of the slogans of the revolution “end the war” while at the same time speaking up for “party unity” and wiping out the memory of its key role in the march to war. By signing the peace treaty, the SPD removed what was most unbearable from the workers, while at the same time injecting it with democratic poison. And to justify all this it found a useful scapegoat for the war and the famine: the monarchy and the military aristocracy.
Recuperating the councils
But the greatest danger for the bourgeoisie remained then councils and the slogan “all power to the soviets” which had come from Russia. The revocability of the delegates posed a real problem for the bourgeoisie, since it made it possible for the councils to constantly renew and radicalise themselves. This is why the councils were assailed by faithful representatives of the SPD, whether or not they were well-known figures like Noske in Kiel or Ebert in Berlin. The councils were gangrened from the inside, emptied of their substance. The whole aim of this manoeuvre was to convince the councils to renounce their own power in favour of the newly formed constituent assembly. The national congress of councils held in Berlin on 16 December 1918 was the clearest example of this.
The system of councils is an affront to capitalism and its democratic apparatus. The bourgeoisie was well aware of this. But it also knew that time was not on its side and that the image of the SPD as a workers’ party was getting very thin. It thus had to precipitate events, while the proletariat needed time to mature, to grow politically.
Parallel to these ideological manoeuvres, from 9 November on, Ebert and the SPD were making secret agreements with the army to crush the revolution. They multiplied provocations, lies and slanders to pave the way to a military confrontation. Their calumnies were directed against the Spartakusbund in particular, accusing it of “assassinations, pillage, calling on the workers to shed their blood again”. They called for a pogrom against Liebknecht and Luxemburg. They created a “White Army” – the Freikorps, composed of soldiers traumatised by the war and motivated by blind hatred.
Beginning 6 December, a huge counter-revolutionary offensive was launched:
But far from scaring off the proletariat, such actions only increased its anger. Demonstrations were armed to defend themselves against provocations. This class solidarity culminated in the biggest demonstration since 9 November being held on December 25. Five days later, the KPD, the Communist Party of Germany, was founded in Berlin.
Again the bourgeoisie learned quickly and acted fast. By the end of December 1918 it had realised that frontally attacking the great figures of the revolution only strengthened class solidarity. It then decided to accentuate the rumours and the calumnies, while avoiding direct armed confrontations and manoeuvre around less well-known personalities. So it targeted Eichhorn, who had been elected to the head of a soldiers’ committee in Berlin and had been put in charge of the local police forces. He was removed from his post and the provocation worked very well. This was immediately perceived by the Berlin workers as an act of aggression. The Berlin workers responded massively: on 5 January 1919, 150,000 were in the street, which surprised even the bourgeoisie. But this would not prevent the working class from falling into the trap of a premature insurrection. Even though the movement had not been followed elsewhere in Germany where Eichhorn was not so well-known, revolutionary leaders like Pieck and Liebknecht, pulled along by the excitement of the moment, decided that evening to launch the armed insurrection. This went against the decisions of the KPD Congress, and the consequences of this improvisation were dramatic: having come out onto the streets, the workers remained there without any precise objective and in the greatest confusion. Worse still, the soldiers refused to take part in the insurrection, which ensured its defeat. Facing this error in analysis and the dangerous situation that resulted from it, Rosa Luxemburg and Leo Jogiches defended the only possible position that could avoid a blood-bath: continue the mobilisation by arming the workers and calling on them to encircle the barracks until the soldiers came out in favour of the revolution. This position was argued by the correct analysis that while the political balance of forces was not in the proletariat’s favour at the beginning of January 1919, the military balance of forces was, at least in Berlin.
But instead of trying to arm the workers, the “Revolutionary Committee” began to negotiate with the government which it had just declared overthrown. From now on time was no longer on the side of the proletariat, but of the counter-revolution.
On 10 January 1919 the KPD called for the resignation of Liebknecht and Pieck from the Revolutionary Committee. But the damage had been done. There followed the bloody week, the so-called “Spartacist Week”. The “Communist putsch” was put down by the “heroes of freedom and democracy”. The White Terror was unleashed. The Freikorps hunted down revolutionaries all over the town and summary executions became systematic. On the evening of 15 January, Luxemburg and Liebknecht were kidnapped and then assassinated. In March 1919 it would be the turn of Leo Jogiches and hundreds of other militants of the revolutionary left.
The democratic illusions of the working class and the weaknesses of the KPD.
What was the cause of this dramatic failure? The events of January 1919 contained all the elements which had led to the defeat of the revolution: on the one hand an intelligent bourgeoisie, manoeuvring very skilfully, and on the other hand a working class still weighed down by illusions in social democracy and a communist party that was insufficiently organised, lacking a solid programmatic base upon which it could develop a clear analysis of the situation. The KPD was somewhat disorientated, it was young and inexperienced (it was made up of many young comrades, since a lot of the older ones had died in the war or the repression). It lacked unity and was unable to give a clear orientation to the working class.
Unlike the Bolsheviks who had maintained an organisational continuity since 1903, and had been through the experience of the 1905 revolution and the soviets, the revolutionary left in Germany, after the betrayal of the SPD in August 1914, had to reconstruct itself hastily, in the heat of the events. The KPD was founded on 30 December 1918 with the fusion of the Spartakusbund and the International Communists of Germany, the IKD. During this conference, the majority of delegates took a clear position against participation in bourgeois elections and rejected the trade unions. But the organisational question was largely underestimated and pushed to the bottom of the list. The question of the party was not grasped at the level demanded by what was at stake.
This underestimation of programmatic questions would result in the decision by Liebknecht and others to call for the insurrection without waiting for a new analysis by the party, without a lucid method for assessing the balance of forces between the classes. The centralisation of decisions was not seen as a priority. It was these weaknesses of the party that would have such dramatic results. At one moment time was on the side of the proletariat. In a few hours the balance had changed and now the bourgeoisie was able to unleash the white terror.
All the same, strikes continued. From January to March 1919, the mass strike emerged in a spectacular manner. But the bourgeoisie also continued its work: executions, slanders, rumours….little by little the terror overwhelmed the proletariat. In February, while massive strikes were breaking out all over Germany, the Berlin proletariat, the heart of the revolution, was no longer able to take part, having been crushed by the January defeat. When it finally returned to the struggle, it was too late. The struggles in Berlin and the rest of Germany didn’t manage to unite. At the same time, the KPD had been “decapitated” and had been forced into illegality. In the wave of strikes between February and April, it was not able to play a decisive role. Its voice had been more or less smothered by capital. If the KPD had been able to unmask the provocation of the bourgeoisie and prevent the workers from falling into the trap, the movement would surely have had a different outcome. The working class thus paid the price for the organisational weaknesses of the party, which now became the target for the most brutal repression. Everywhere communists were being hunted down. The lines of communication between what was left of the central organs and the local or regional delegates were continually being broken. At the national conference of 29 March 1919, it was pointed out that “the local organisations are stuffed with agents provocateurs”.
In conclusion
The German revolution was above all the mass strike movement of the working class, extending geographically, countering capitalist barbarism with class solidarity, re-appropriating the lessons of October 1917 through the formation of workers’ councils. The German revolution was also the lesson about the necessity for an internationally centralised party, built on clear organisational and programmatic foundations. Without such an organ the working class will not be able to expose the Machiavellian tricks of the bourgeoisie. But the German revolution was also the capacity of the bourgeoisie to unite against the proletariat, to use manoeuvres, lies and manipulations of all kinds. It was the noxious stench of a dying order which refuses to give up. It was the deadly trap of illusions in democracy and the destruction of the workers’ councils from within.
Even though the events of 1919 proved decisive, the flames of the revolution in Germany were not extinguished for several years. But on the scale of history, the consequences of this defeat would be very grave for humanity as a whole: the rise of Nazism in Germany, of Stalinism in Russia, the march towards the second world war under the banners of anti-fascism – these nightmarish events can all be traced to the failure of the revolutionary wave which, between 1917 and 1923, shook the bourgeois order without being able to topple it once and for all.
And yet the revolution in Germany in 1918 remains a source of inspiration and lessons for the future struggles of the proletariat. As Rosa Luxemburg wrote on the eve of her murder by troops dispatched by social democracy:
“What does the entire history of socialism and of all modern revolutions show us? The first spark of class struggle in Europe, the revolt of the silk weavers in Lyon in 1831, ended with a heavy defeat; the Chartist movement in Britain ended in defeat; the uprising of the Parisian proletariat in the June days of 1848 ended with a crushing defeat; and the Paris commune ended with a terrible defeat. The whole road of socialism – so far as revolutionary struggles are concerned – is paved with nothing but thunderous defeats… Where would we be today without those “defeats,” from which we draw historical experience, understanding, power and idealism? Today…we stand on the foundation of those very defeats; and we can’t do without any of them, because each one contributes to our strength and understanding...
To date, revolutions have given us nothing but defeats. Yet these unavoidable defeats pile up guarantee upon guarantee of the future final victory.
There is but one condition. The question of why each defeat occurred must be answered…
“Order prevails in Berlin!” You foolish lackeys! Your “order” is built on sand. Tomorrow the revolution will “rise up again, clashing its weapons,” and to your horror it will proclaim with trumpets blazing:
I was, I am, I shall be!”[3]
ICC, 1 November 2018
We are publishing below a report on the imperialist situation adopted by the ICC’s central organ at a meeting in June 2018. Since the report was written, events around Trump’s visit to Europe have very clearly confirmed the main ideas developed in the report, in particular the notion that the USA has now become the main propagator of the tendency of “every man for himself” on a global level, even to the point of trashing the instruments of its own “world order”. See our article on "Trump in Europe".
We publish here a report on the imperialist situation adopted by the central organ of the ICC at a meeting in June 2018. Since then, events around Trump’s visit to Europe have very clearly confirmed the main ideas of this report, in particular the idea that the USA has become the main propagator of the tendency towards “each for themselves” on a world scale, to the point where it is destroying the instruments of its own “world order” (see our article “Trump in Europe”).
The main orientations of the November 2017 report on imperialist tensions [49] provide us with the essential framework to understand current developments:
In the recent period, the weight of populism is becoming more and more tangible, exacerbating the tendency of “each for himself” and the growing unpredictability of imperialist conflicts;
These general characteristics of the period find their concretisation today in a series of particularly significant tendencies.
The evolution of US imperialist policy over the last thirty years is one of the most significant phenomena of the period of decomposition: after promising a new age of peace and prosperity (Bush Senior) in the aftermath of the implosion of the Soviet bloc, after then struggling against the tendency towards each for himself, it has today become the main propagator of this tendency in the world. The former bloc leader and only remaining major imperialist superpower after the implosion of the Eastern bloc, which for around 25 years has been acting as the world cop, fighting against the spreading of each for himself on the imperialist level, is now rejecting international negotiations and global agreements in favour of a policy of "bilateralism".
A shared principle, aimed at overcoming chaos in international relations, is summarised in the following Latin sentence: "pacta sunt servanda" - treaties, agreements, must be honoured. If someone signs a global agreement - or a multilateral one - he is supposed to respect it, at least ostensibly. But the US under Trump abolished this conception: “I sign a treaty, but I can scrap it tomorrow”. This has already happened with the Trans-Pacific Pact (TPP), the Paris agreement on climate change, the nuclear treaty with Iran, the final agreement on the G7 meeting in Québec. The US today rejects international agreements in favour of a negotiation between states, in which the US bourgeoisie will bluntly impose its interests through economic, political and military blackmail (as we can see today for instance with Canada before and after the G7 with regard to NAFTA or with the threat of retaliation against European companies investing in Iran). This will have tremendous and unpredictable consequences for the development of imperialist tensions and conflicts (but also for the economic situation of the world) in the coming period. We will illustrate this with three “hot spots” in the imperialist confrontations today:
Although this policy implies a tremendous growth of chaos and of each for himself, and also ultimately a further decline of the global positions of the world’s leading power, there is no tangible alternative approach in the US. After one and a half year of Mueller‘s investigation and other kinds of pressures against Trump, it does not look likely that Trump will be pushed out of office, amongst other reasons because there is no alternative force in sight. The quagmire within the US bourgeoisie continues.
The contradiction could not be more striking. At the same time that Trump's US denounces globalisation and falls back on "bilateral" agreements, China announces a huge global project, the “New Silk Road”, that involves around 65 countries over three continents, representing 60% of the world population and about a third of world GDP, with investments over a period of the next 30 years (2050!) of up to 1.2 trillion dollars.
Since the beginning of its re-emergence, which was planned in the most systematic, long-term way, China has been modernising its army, building a “string of pearls”» –beginning with the occupation of Coral Reefs in the South China Sea and the establishment of a chain of military bases in the Indian Ocean. For now however, China is not looking for direct confrontation with the US; on the contrary, it plans to become the most powerful economy in the world by 2050 and aims at developing its links with the rest of the world while trying to avoid direct clashes. China’s policy is a long-term one, contrary to the short-term deals favoured by Trump. It seeks to expand its industrial, technological and, above all, military expertise and power. On this last level, the US still has a considerable lead over China.
At the same moment of the failed G7 summit in Canada (9-10.6.18), China organised, in Quingdao a conference of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation with the assistance of the presidents of Russia (Putin), India (Modi), Iran (Rohani), and the leaders of Belarus, Uzbekistan, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Tajikistan and Kirgizia (20% of world trade, 40% of the world population). China’s current focus is clearly the Silk Road project -the goal is to spread its influence. It is a long-term project and a direct confrontation with the US would counter-act these plans.
In this perspective, China will use its influence to push for a deal leading to the neutralisation of all nuclear weapons in the Korean region (US weapons included), which -provided the US were to accept this –would push back US forces to Japan and reduce the immediate threat to Northern China.
However, China’s ambitions will inevitably lead to a confrontation with the imperialist aims not only of the US but also of other powers, like India or Russia:
The exacerbation of the tendency of each for himself on the imperialist level and the growing competition between the imperialist sharks give rise to another significant phenomenon of this phase of decomposition: the coming to power of "strong leaders" with a radical language, and an aggressive, nationalist rhetoric.
The coming to power of a "strong leader" and a radical rhetoric about the defence of national identity (often combined with social programmes in favour of families, children, pensioners) is typical of populist regimes (Trump, of course, but also Salvini in Italy, Orbán in Hungary, Kaczynski in Poland, Babiš in the Czech Republic, …) but it is also a more general tendency all over the world, not only in the strongest powers (Putin in Russia) but also in secondary imperialist countries like Turkey (Erdogan), Iran, Saudi-Arabia (with the “soft coup” of crown prince Mohammed Ben Salman). In China, the limitation of the presidency of the state to two five-year periods has been removed from the constitution, so that Xi Jinping is imposing himself as a “leader for life", the new Chinese emperor (being president, head of the party and of the central military commission, which has never happened since Deng Xiaoping). "Democratic" slogans or keeping up democratic appearances (human rights) are no longer the dominant discourse (as the talks between the Donald and Kim have shown), unlike at the time of the fall of the Soviet bloc and at the beginning of the 21st century. They have given way to a combination of very aggressive speeches and pragmatic imperialist deals.
The strongest example is the Korean crisis. Trump and Kim first used both strong military pressure (with even the threat of a nuclear confrontation) and very aggressive language before meeting in Singapore to haggle. Trump offered gigantic economic and political advantages (the Burmese model) with the aim of eventually pulling Kim into the US camp. This is not totally inconceivable as the North Koreans have an ambiguous relationship with and even distrust towards China. However, the reference to Libya by US officials (National Security Adviser John Bolton) – North Korea might have the same fate as Libya, when Gaddafi was urged to abandon his weapons, and then forcefully deposed and killed– makes the North Koreans particularly suspicious of American proposals.
This political strategy is a more general tendency in the current imperialist confrontations, as shown by Trump’s aggressive tweets against Canada’s Prime Minister Trudeau, “ a false and weak leader” because he refused to accept higher import taxes brought in by the US. There was also the brutal ultimatum of Saudi Arabia against Qatar, accused of “centrism” towards Iran, or Erdogan’s bellicose statements against the West and NATO about the Kurds. Finally,, we will mention Putin’s very aggressive “State of the Union” speech, which was a presentation of Russia’s most sophisticated weapons systems with the message: “You’d better take us seriously”!
These tendencies strengthen the general characteristics of the period, such as the intensification of militarisation (despite the strong economic burden linked to this) amongst the three biggest imperialist sharks, but also as a global trend and in a context of a changing imperialist landscape in the world and in Europe. In this context of aggressive policies, the danger of limited nuclear strikes is very real, as there are a lot of unpredictable elements in the conflicts around North Korea and Iran.
4) The tendency towards the fragmentation of the EU.
All the trends in Europe during the past period – Brexit, the rise of an important populist party in Germany (AfD), the coming to power of populists in Eastern Europe, where most of the countries are run by populist governments, are being accentuated by two major events:
This will have huge consequences for the cohesion of the EU, the stability of the Euro, and the weight of the European countries on the imperialist scene.
All these orientations strongly accentuate the crisis within the EU and the tendencies towards fragmentation. It will ultimately affect the policy of Germany as the most influential country in the EU, as it is internally divided (weight of AfD and CSU), confronted with political opposition by the populist leaders of Eastern Europe, economic opposition by Mediterranean countries (Italy, Greece, ...), and quarells with Turkey, while at the same time being directly targeted by Trump’s import tariffs. The growing fragmentation of Europe under the blows of populism and the “America First” policy will also present a huge problem for the policy of France, because these trends are in total opposition to Macron’s programme, which is essentially based on the strengthening of Europe and on the full assimilation of globalisation.
ICC, June 2018
[M1]Who is he ?
Events around Trump’s visit to Europe have very clearly confirmed the main ideas developed in the report on imperialist tensions (June 2018), in particular the notion that the USA has now become the main propagator of the tendency of “every man for himself” on a global level, even to the point of trashing the instruments of its own “world order”.
The July NATO summit in Brussels was marked by the noisy and threatening demands of US President Trump that European NATO members should increase as quickly and massively as possible their military budgets -first to 2% and even to 4%, an amount the US claims to have been spending for some time.
Trump’s complaint that the gigantic level of American military spending constitutes a terrible burden on the US economy and its competitiveness is certainly not fake news. The decade- long financing of a military machine present on all continents of the world, and the economic price of the USA’s fiascos in Afghanistan and Iraq, are suffocating the American economy. This is the inevitable product of the cancer of militarism. And yet the running US budget has allocated again a much bigger share to armaments spending than during the previous years – and this orientation was pushed both by the Democratic Party and the Republicans[1]. So despite the warning that the spiralling costs of militarism are undermining the overall performance of the US economy, sooner or later the militarist drive compels all governments in the world to sacrifice ever more resources and expenditure to this insatiable Moloch. The fact that the armaments companies make gorgeous profits out of this doesn’t prevent the weakening of the economy as a whole. The example of Russia in the 70s and 80s serves as a warning: the crippling weight of its military sector, the unwinnable arms race with the US, was a key factor in the collapse of the entire Stalinist regime.
At the same time, Trump‘s threats that if the European ‘allies’ do not increase their military budgets according to US demands, the US might go it alone, might even leave NATO, brings him into a direct conflict with those who up to now have defended the global imperialist interests of US capital.
There is certainly a logic in Trump’s antipathy to NATO, which in many ways is a vestige of the period of the blocs and whose role in today’s multipolar world has become increasingly uncertain. At the time of the Cold War, NATO was the central instrument of a military bloc with the US at its head, allowing it to impose its own decisions and a bloc-wide discipline. And even after the Russian bloc collapsed in 1989-91, NATO has still served as a US-dominated power structure, a means for preserving American global hegemony and opposing the centrifugal tendencies among its former allies. In particular, NATO was used to install more troops in Central and Eastern Europe, pushing forward the US offensive against Russia. NATO still serves as a shield against Russia in the eyes of several Eastern European countries.
Of course, underneath all this, the advancing tendencies of “every man for himself”, of increasing tensions between nation states, has acted to steadily and irreversibly weaken US domination of NATO and its former allies. But Trump’s threats to withdraw from NATO are still in direct conflict with the interests of the US military wing, which does not want to abandon what remains of the leading position of the US within NATO, still less to drop NATO altogether. This faction of the ruling class understands that maintaining US hegemony is more than a problem of economics. The NATO summit and Trump’s rambling threats reveal the reality of the effects of the cancer of militarism, but also the fact that the US ruling class is profoundly divided over its military orientations.
At the same time the results of the NATO summit could only reinforce the determination of the European member countries to increase their military spending and gain more room for manoeuvre outside of the zone of control by the US. Trump‘s ultimatums were a welcome pretext for them to speed up this process, strengthening European ambitions to develop new military structures within the EU or outside, in particular between France and Germany, but also with the UK (irrespective of Brexit). So we see that the global weight of militarism does not wither away: when the previous military power structures erode, this only creates new tensions and new military alliances, however short-lived. As with any gang, when the top boss is weakened or toppled, the second-rate gangsters generally form new alliances before they start to get at each other…..
Immediately following the NATO summit, Trump paid a brief visit to the UK, whose politics, he observed, are in “somewhat turmoil”. He then proceeded to increase the turmoil by appearing to undermine Theresa May’s efforts to cobble together a Brexit agreement, declaring that she hadn’t done what he had told her to do and that the deal with the EU she was proposing would rule out a trade deal with the US – having previously praised cabinet rebel Boris Johnson by saying he would make a “great prime minister”. The damage caused by all this was done, despite furious back-peddling at the press conference at Chequers where Trump stood side by side with May. And after defining the EU as a “foe” just before his summit with Putin, the attitude of this “disrupter” president towards the EU – which had been set up as part of the western bloc and which the US continued to support in the post-89 world order – clearly parallels his approach to NATO.
Then came the Trump-Putin summit in Helsinki. This demonstrated above all that the ruling class in the US have a president at their head who is acting more and more on his own or who only insists on very specific interests, in particular short term economic calculations. Instead of being a centralising force directing the military and security forces, he acts not only without consultation with them, but he even expressed a bigger faith in the words of Putin than in those of his security apparatus as regards Russian meddling in the US elections. It is obvious that Trump has become more unpredictable than ever, and the ridiculous corrections of his most outlandish statements cannot hide the real quagmire the US ruling class finds itself in.
In the same way as his attitude at the NATO summit showed the divisions within the ruling class, the fiasco of the Putin meeting highlights growing conflicts within and between the military/ security apparatus and the White House, within and between certain branches of industry and important wings of the state. Opposition to Russian imperialist ambitions has been deeply entrenched in US imperialist policy since 1945 and has only been reinforced by Putin’s aggressive foreign policy. The idea that Trump, and with him certain factions of the ruling class, might be willing to do all kinds of deals with Putin, or are even acting as his stooges, is a source of considerable anxiety in the most established factions of the US ruling class, who are not convinced by the argument that the US could usefully ally with Russia against the bigger threat posed by China and as a counter-weight to the EU.
When Trump arrived in the UK, he was “welcomed” by tens, even hundreds of thousands of protestors, angered by his racist statements on immigration, his open admission of sexual abuse, his praise for the “fine people” of the fascist right. But these demonstrations were very clearly on a bourgeois terrain, not least because they were openly encouraged by ruling class mouthpieces like The Guardian and the Evening Standard. Their focus was above all on Trump the man: his orange skin, his comb-over, his small hands and penis, the enlightening fact that one meaning of “trump” is “fart”. The problem with all this is that it hides what’s really at stake in the situation. Just as 10 years ago the bankers were held responsible for an economic crisis which is rooted in the impersonal contradictions of capital, so today Trump is blamed for the growing political, economic, and military chaos, when in the end he is only the product of this chaos, which derives from the underlying reality that we are living through the disintegration and decomposition of an entire social system. As one of the placards at the London demo put it: “can we please let the smart people run things now?”. But replacing Trump with a smarter and more responsible politician will not halt capitalism’s slide into the abyss of barbarism. Only a determined struggle against world capital, a struggle aimed at its overthrow, can offer humanity that hope.
DA, 24.7.18
[1]On March 16, 2017 President Trump submitted his request to Congress for $639 billion in military spending—$54 billion—which represents a 10 percent increase—for FY 2018 as well as $30 billion for FY2017 which ends in September. ... The Congress increased the budget to total 696 billion dollar. That $61 billion increase matches or even surpasses [51]Russia's entire military budget each year. It's more than the Trump administration originally requested. It rivals two big spending surges during President George W. Bush's administration, in 2003 and 2008, which went to fund the Iraq War. "Today, we receive the largest military budget in history, reversing many years of decline and unpredictable funding," Defense Secretary Jim Mattis (https://www.npr.org/sections/parallels/2018/03/26/596129462/how-the-pent... [52])
In September 1945 Marc Chirik wrote a letter from Paris to the writer Jean Malaquais and his wife Gally. Malaquais had worked with Marc in the French fraction of the communist left in Marseille during the war, a period which inspired his great novel Planet without Visa, one of whose principal protagonists is a communist revolutionary, an internationalist opposed to the “anti-fascist” war, named “Marc Laverne”.
The letter begins: “first, the disappeared. Michel, our poor Mitchell, no news of him, he must have ended his life in frightful conditions… Jean was the best element of the Belgian Fraction… the most talented, full of promise (did you know him?). He and his son were deported and died in a concentration camp in Germany”.
There follows a list of comrades and contacts from the political milieu in Vichy Marseille, as well as members of his own family: those who died, those who came back after suffering appalling tortures, those who managed to avoid the Nazi terror by adopting false names, or by flight. A terror continued by the Stalinist Resistance, as Marc recounts further on:
“The most critical moment for me, when I could see death in front of me, was a few weeks afterwards when the Stalinists arrested me along with Clara1 and took all my writings. They were ready to show me what they were made of. It was just by a miracle of luck that Clara had met, among the leading chiefs, a woman with whom she had worked for a while in the UGIF (to help Jewish children) and we were able to save our skins from the hatred of the Stalinists”.
Such was the situation facing internationalists during and immediately after the second imperialist world war. Mitchell, who was one of them, had written a series of articles on the ‘Problems of the Period of Transition’ in the pages of Bilan. We have published them as part of this series2 because they offer an authentic marxist framework for discussing some of the most fundamental questions of the communist transformation: the historical and international context of the proletarian revolution; the dangers emanating from the transitional state; the economic content of the transformation, and so on. These articles must have had a powerful influence on Marc and the French fraction, later the Gauche Communiste de France, as can be seen from their efforts to take Mitchell’s critique of the transitional state to its logical conclusion: the rejection of any identity between the proletariat and this necessary evil in the transformation of social relations.3
Stirrings in the proletarian milieu
The letter to Malaquais asks for news about the political milieu in the western hemisphere – the Paul Mattick group in Chicago, which he linked to the Dutch left, the Oehler group in the same city, the group of the Italian left in New York, the Eiffels group in Mexico. Marc also answers Malaquais’ questions about Victor Serge, who had been with them in the milieu in Marseille but had become a democrat, supporting the allied imperialisms during the war4. Following a review of the counter-revolutionary role being played by the former workers’ parties in the post-war settlement, Marc talks about the proletarian milieu, such as it was , in France, mentioning in passing the French fraction and the divergences around the formation of the party in Italy, but also the groups who had come out of Trotskyism “L’Union Communiste is dead, but in its place has arisen a group, the Communistes Revolutionnaires, coming from a split with the Trotskyists, and although confused, it is sincerely revolutionary”. The CR was aligned with the Austrian/German group Revolutionären Kommunisten Deutschlands, which had also broken from Trotskyism over the crucial issues of the defence of the USSR and support for the war. The French fraction had discussed and worked with the RKD during the war, jointly signing an internationalist manifesto at the time of the “liberation” of France5.
Thus the French fraction, and subsequently the GCF, were keenly interested in discussion with all the internationalist proletarian groups which had survived the war and which were undergoing a certain revival in its wake6. Despite their characterisation of official Trotskyism as an appendage to Stalinism, they were open to the possibility that groups emerging from Trotskyism – provided they made a total break with its counter-revolutionary positions and practices – could evolve in a positive direction. This had evidently been the case with the RKD/CR tendency, and also with the Stinas group, the International Communist Union, in Greece, although we don’t know much about the existence of any contacts between Stinas and the Italian communist left during or after the war7
In France itself, the GCF entered into contact with the group around Grandizo Munis and, from 1949, with the Socialisme ou Barbarie group animated by Cornelius Castoriadis/Chaulieu (who had been a member of the Stinas group in Greece), Claude Lefort/Montal and others. In the case of the Munis group, then called Union Ouvrière Internationaliste, the GCF held a series of meetings with them on the present situation of capitalism. The seminal text ‘The evolution of capitalism and the new perspective [54]’ was based on the exposé given by Marc Chirik at one of these meetings. Similar initiatives were taken with the Socialisme ou Barbarie group.
In a subsequent article, we are going to examine the ideas of Munis and Castoriadis in more detail, not least because both of them devoted a great deal of energy to defining the meaning of proletarian revolution and of socialist society in a period of continuing reaction in which the hideous deformations of Stalinism, of “really existing socialism” in Russia and its bloc, were more or less dominant in the working class. This ideological domination was not at all challenged by official Trotskyism, whose “contribution” to understanding the transition from capitalism to socialism was limited to an apology for the Stalinist regimes, defined as deformed workers’ states, and an advocacy of “nationalisation under workers’ control” (i.e. a form of state capitalism) in the countries outside the Russian bloc. It is thus of particular interest to study the work of elements who were breaking with Trotskyism not only because of its abandonment of internationalism, but also because its vision of social transformation remained firmly within the horizon of capitalism.
As a kind of preface to this study, we think it would be useful to republish the text ‘Welcome to Socialisme ou Barbarie’ in Internationalisme 43, because it is a good example of the method employed by the GCF in its relationship with the refugees from the shipwreck of Trotskyism in the wake of World War Two
The title of the article immediately sets the tone: a fraternal welcome to a new group which the GCF recognises as clearly belonging to the revolutionary camp, despite the many differences in the method and outlook of the two groups. The new group was the result of a split by the Chaulieu/Montal tendency within the French Trotskyist Party, the Parti Communiste Internationaliste (in which Munis had also briefly sojourned). This led the GCF to qualify a previous statement it had made about this tendency:
“The overall judgment we made of this tendency in recent issues of Internationalisme, however severe it might have been, was absolutely well-founded. We must however make a correction concerning its definitive character. The Chaulieu tendency was not liquidated, as we presented it, but found the strength, albeit after a very long delay, to break with the Trotskyist organisation and form itself into an autonomous group. Despite the heavy weight of this heritage on the group, this fact represents a new element that opens the possibility of its later evolution. The future alone will tell us to what extent it constitutes a gain in the formation of a new revolutionary movement. But right now we must say to them that they won’t be able to carry out this task unless they rid themselves completely and as quickly as possible of the scars they have inherited from Trotskyism and which can still be felt in the first issue of their review”.
And indeed, the “heavy weight of this heritage” was to prove an extremely difficult one to throw off. This burden can also be seen in the subsequent work of Munis, but it was to prove much more destructive in the case of Socialisme ou Barbarie, not least because, as the GCF article notes, the Chaulieu group immediately proclaimed that it had gone beyond all the existing revolutionary currents and would be able to provide definitive answers to the enormous problems confronting the working class. This arrogant assumption was to have very negative consequences for the future evolution of the group. We will seek to demonstrate this in a subsequent article.
Internationalisme 43, June/July 1949
Welcome to Socialisme ou Barbarie
The first issue of a new revolutionary review called Socialisme ou Barbarie has just appeared in France.
In the sombre situation in which the workers’ movement in France and the rest of the world finds itself today, a situation marked by a course towards war, in which the rare revolutionary groups – expressions of the life and state of consciousness of the proletarian class – who still survive thanks to a determined desire to act and a constant ideological effort , are becoming a little weaker each day; in a situation where the revolutionary press is reduced to a few small duplicated bulletins, the appearance of a new printed review, an “organ of criticism and revolutionary orientation” is an important event which every militant can only welcome and encourage.
Whatever the breadth of our disagreements with the positions of Socialisme ou Barbarie, and whatever the future evolution of this review, on the basis of the fundamental positions and general orientation expressed in this first issue, we must consider this group as undeniably proletarian and revolutionary. That is to say, we welcome its existence, and will follow with sympathy and interest its future activity and efforts. Since revolutionary sympathy is above all based on paying attention to political positions, we intend to examine the ideas put forward by Socialisme ou Barbarie without prejudice and with the greatest of care, to analyse them as they evolve, criticising what seems erroneous in them and in such cases countering them with our own views. We see this not with the aim of carrying out a vain polemic based on denigration - something which has become only too common among groups and which deeply repels us – but, however lively the discussion might be, as being exclusively geared towards the confrontation and clarification of positions.
Socialisme ou Barbarie is the organ of a tendency which has just broken with the Trotskyist party, the Chaulieu-Montal tendency. It is a political tendency known among the milieu of militants in France and we have spoken about it on several occasions, and again quite recently8, not in exactly tender terms. This perhaps demands a supplementary explanation on our part.
Examining the Trotskyist movement in France and noting that it once again, for the umpteenth time, finds itself in a state of crisis, we posed the question whether this crisis had a positive significance from the point of view of revolutionary formation. We replied with a categorical No, and for the following reason. Trotskyism, which was one of the proletarian reactions within the Communist International during the first years of its degeneration, never went beyond this position of being an opposition, despite its formal constitution into an organically separate party. By remaining attached to the Communist Parties – which it still sees as workers’ parties –even after the triumph of Stalinism, Trotskyism itself functions as an appendage to Stalinism. It is linked ideologically to Stalinism and follows it around like a shadow. All the activity of Trotskyism over the last 15 years proves this. From 1932-33 where it supported the possibility of the victory of the proletarian revolution in Germany under Stalinist leadership, to its participation in the 1939-45 war, in the Resistance and the Liberation, via the Popular Front, anti-fascism and participation in the war in Spain, Trotskyism has merely walked in the footsteps of Stalinism. In the wake of the latter, Trotskyism has also contributed powerfully to introducing into the workers’ movement habits and methods of organisation and forms of activity (bluff, intrigue, burrowing from within, insults and manoeuvres of all kinds) which are so many active factors in the corruption and destruction of any revolutionary activity. This doesn’t mean that revolutionary workers who only have a little political education have not been drawn into its ranks. On the contrary, as an organisation, as a political milieu, Trotskyism, far from favouring the development of revolutionary thought and of the organisms (fractions and tendencies) which express it, is an organised milieu for undermining it. This is a general rule valid for any political organisation alien to the proletariat, and experience has demonstrated that it applies to Stalinism and Trotskyism. We have known Trotskyism over 15 years of perpetual crisis, through splits and unifications, followed by further splits and crises, but we don’t know examples which have given rise to real, viable revolutionary tendencies. Trotskyism does not secrete within itself a revolutionary ferment. On the contrary, it annihilates it. The condition for the existence and development of a revolutionary ferment is to be outside the organisational and ideological framework of Trotskyism.
The constitution of the Chaulieu-Montal tendency within the Trotskyist organisation, and precisely after the latter had sunk itself up to its neck in the second imperialist war, the Resistance and national liberation, did not, with good reason, inspire much confidence towards it on our part. This tendency was formed on the basis of the theory of bureaucratic collectivism in the USSR and consequently rejected any defence of the latter. But what value could this position of non-defence of the USSR have when your practice is to co-habit in an organisation whose activity clearly and concretely resides in the defence of Russian state capitalism and participation in imperialist war? Not only did the Chaulieu-Montal tendency find its cohabitation in the organisation possible, it participated actively, and at all levels, in the activism typical of Trotskyism, based on bluff and mystification, in all its electoral, trade union and other campaigns. Furthermore, we could hardly avoid being unfavourably impressed by the behaviour of this tendency, made up of manoeuvres, combinations, dubious compromises, aimed more at seizing control of the leadership of the party than at developing the consciousness of its militants. The prolonged hesitations of the members of the tendency to leave the organisation – at the last congress, in summer 1948, they were still accepting being elected to the central committee – denotes both their political incoherence, their illusion in the possibility of re-dressing the Trotskyist organisation, and finally their total incomprehension of the political and organisational conditions indispensable to the elaboration of revolutionary thought and orientation
The overall judgment we made of this tendency in recent issues of Internationalisme, however severe it might have been, was absolutely well-founded. We must however make a correction concerning its definitive character. The Chaulieu tendency was not liquidated, as we presented it, but found the strength, albeit after a very long delay, to break with the Trotskyist organisation and form itself into an autonomous group. Despite the heavy weight of this heritage on the group, this fact represents a new element that opens the possibility of its later evolution. The future alone will tell us to what extent it constitutes a gain in the formation of a new revolutionary movement. But right now we must say to them that they won’t be able to carry out this task unless they rid themselves completely and as quickly as possible of the scars they have inherited from Trotskyism and which can still be felt in the first issue of their review.
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It’s not our intention here to make a deep and detailed analysis of the positions of the Socialisme ou Barbarie group. We will come back to this another time. Today we will limit ourselves to observing that, after reading their first issue, this is a group in evolution, and that its positions are anything but fixed. This should not be seen as a reproach, far from it. This group rather seems to be moving away from its fixed position about a third class, the bureaucracy, and from the idea of a dual historical antithesis to capitalism; either socialism or bureaucratic collectivism. This position, which was previously the only reason for its existence as a tendency, was a dead-end both at the level of theoretical research and of practical revolutionary activity. It’s because it seems today to be abandoning, if only partially, this conception of a historical opposition between statism and capitalism, in favour of seeing statification as a tendency inherent in capitalism in the present period, that this group is managing to get a more correct appreciation of the present trade union movement and its necessary integration into the state apparatus.
We want to draw attention to a very interesting study by A. Carrier on the cartel of autonomous unions, in which through his pen the group Socialisme ou Barbarie for the first time expresses "our position on the historically obsolete nature of trade unionism as a proletarian weapon against exploitation".
However, we are a bit surprised to learn, after such a clear declaration on the historically obsolete character of trade unionism, that this position does not lead Socialisme ou Barbarie to refuse to take part in any trade union life. The reason for this practical attitude, which is in contradiction with the whole analysis made of the trade union movement, is formulated thus: “we go where the workers are, not just because they are there, so to speak, physically, but because that’s where they struggle, with more or less effectiveness, against all forms of exploitation”. What’s more, participation in the unions is justified by saying: “We are not uninterested in the question of demands. We are convinced that in all circumstances there are correct demand slogans which, without resolving the problem of exploitation, assure the defence of the elementary material interests of the class, a defence which has to be organised on a daily basis faced with the daily attacks of capitalism”. And this after having, with the support of figures, demonstrated that “capitalism has reached the point where it can no longer give anything, where it can only take back what it has given. Not only is any reform impossible, but even the present level of poverty can’t be maintained”. From this point, the significance of the immediate programme has changed.
This whole study on “The cartel of united trade union action” is extremely interesting, but while it provides a valid analysis of trade unionism in the present period, it is also a very striking manifestation of the contradictory state of the Socialisme ou Barbarie group. The objective analysis of the evolution of modern capitalism towards statification, both of the economy and of the economic organisations of the workers (an analysis which is that of the groups of the ultra-left, to which we belong) is in competition with the old traditional subjective attitude of participation and activity in the trade union organisation, an attitude inherited from Trotskyism from which they have not fully disengaged.
A good part of this number of Socialisme ou Barbarie is devoted to polemics with the Trotskyist Parti Communiste Internationaliste. This is very understandable. Leaving a political organisation, where you have a whole past of militancy and conviction, doesn’t take place without a kind of emotional crisis, and often involves personal recriminations, which is quite natural. But here we are dealing with a polemic and a polemical tone which is well out of proportion.
We are thinking of the article by Chaulieu “Useless Mouths”, which is aimed at clearing a member of the group, Lefort, of the accusations made against him by La Vérité. We can well understand the strong indignation that can be provoked by this kind of accusation, full of hypocritical insinuations and malicious allusions. But Chaulieu doesn’t manage to keep things at a certain level, and in his reply he indulges in a regrettable grossness and vulgarity. Wordplay around the name of Pierre Frank is really worthy of a naughty schoolboy and doesn’t really have a place in a revolutionary publication. Once again we are in the presence of the decomposition which has been infecting the workers’ movement for years. The precondition for the reconstitution of a new revolutionary movement is to free itself of this venomous tradition imported by Stalinism, and maintained, among others, by Trotskyism. We can never insist too much on this “moral” aspect , which is one of the foundation-stones of revolutionary work in the immediate and in the future. This is why we were so disagreeably impressed to find this malodorous polemic in the columns of the first issue of Socialisme ou Barbarie. We should also point out that, caught up in the fires of polemic, Chaulieu and his friends have forgotten to reply to one of the key questions which gave rise to this polemic, i.e. whether or not it’s possible to carry out research into problems of the revolutionary movement through any publication that offers you its columns.
In Internationalisme we have already looked at this question, and the conclusion we arrived at is in the negative. Today there is an anguishing problem of a lack of means of expression for revolutionary thought. Every thinking revolutionary militant has had this feeling of being stifled and feels the need to break out of the silence which has been imposed on them. But beyond the subjective aspect of the problem there is a political problem linked to the present situation. We can’t find relief by depositing our thoughts anywhere: we have to make our thought an effective weapon of the proletarian class struggle. Have Lefort, Chaulieu and their friends asked themselves what is the result of collaborating with a literary and philosophical review like Sartre’s Les Temps Modernes?
This kind of collaboration will not only produce little more than ‘revolutionary’ verbiage, but it will also give credibility among militants to a review, an ideological current towards which the greatest political and ideological reserve is necessary. In this way, instead of clarifying things by distinguishing between different currents, you only end up increasing confusion. It shows a real lack of understanding of the conditions for revolutionary research to turn Sartre and his review - for whom the political application of his philosophy means support for the RDR9 - into a place, a milieu, for discussion about the role played by Trotsky and Trotskyism in the degeneration of the Communist International. Revolutionary theoretical research can never be the topic of conversation in a salon, or provide a theory for left-leaning literary types. However pitiful the means of expression available to the revolutionary proletariat, it’s only in this framework that you can work towards the elaboration of the theory of the class. Working on, improving, developing these means of expression is the only way for militants to make their thought and action effective. Trying to use means of expression that don’t belong to the organisms of the class always denotes an intellectualist and petty bourgeois tendency. The fact that this problem is completely neglected in the polemic written by Socialisme ou Barbarie proves that it has not even grasped, let alone solved, the problem. We think that this too is very significant.
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Before engaging in a critical examination of the positions defended by the Socialisme ou Barbarie group, we think that it’s necessary to pause a moment at another point, which is also highly characteristic: the manner in which this group presents itself. It would be wrong to consider that this is something without any importance. The idea one has of oneself, and the appreciation one has of other groups, is intimately linked to the general conceptions one professes. It is often this aspect which is most revealing about the nature of a group. In every case it is an indispensable element which makes it immediately possible to grasp the underlying conceptions of a group.
Here are two extracts from the leading article of the first issue of the review, an article which is in some ways the credo or political platform of the group.
Talking about the present-day workers’ movement, and having noted the complete alienation of the masses in anti-working class ideologies, the review writes:
“The only ones that seem to be keeping afloat in this universal deluge are weak organisations like the ‘4th International’, the anarchist federations, and a few so-called ‘ultra-left’ groups (Bordigists, Spartacists, council communists). Organisations which are weak, not because of their meagre numbers – which in itself means nothing, and is not a criterion – but above all because of their lack of ideological and political content. Linked much more to the past than to the anticipation of the future, these organisations already find themselves absolutely incapable of understanding the social development of the 20th century, and even less of orienting themselves positively in response to it”
And, having enumerated the weaknesses of Trotskyism and anarchism, the article continues a few lines later:
“Finally, the ‘ultra-left’ grouplets either passionately cultivate their sectarian deformations, like the Bordigists, sometimes going so far as to making the proletariat responsible for their own incapacity, or, like the council communists, content themselves with drawing up, on the basis of past experience, recipes for the ‘socialist’ kitchens of the future….Despite their delirious pretensions, both the ‘4th International’ and the anarchists and the ultra-lefts are in truth nothing but historical memories, tiny scabs on the wounds of the class, doomed to disappear with the rise of the new skin being prepared in the underlying tissues” (p 9).
So much for the other existing tendencies and groups. It thus becomes understandable that, after such a severe judgment, a condemnation without appeal of the others, you present yourself in these terms:
“By presenting ourselves today, through the means of this review, to the vanguard of manual and intellectual workers, we are the only ones responding in a systematic way to the fundamental problems of the contemporary revolutionary movement; we think that we are the only ones taking up and continuing the marxist analysis of the modern economy, posing on a scientific basis the problem of the historical development of the workers’ movement and its meaning, defining Stalinism and the ‘workers’’ bureaucracy in general, and finally, posing the revolutionary perspective by taking into account the original elements created by our epoch…We think that we represent the living continuation of marxism in the framework of contemporary society. In this sense we have no fear of being confused with all the editors of ‘marxist’ publications seeking ‘clarification’, all the men of good will, all the chatterers and gossips. If we pose problems, it’s because we think that we can resolve them” (our underlining).
This is a language in which pretension and limitless self-flattery is only equalled by the ignorance shown about the revolutionary movement, its groups and tendencies, its work and its theoretical struggles over the last 30 years. Ignorance explains a lot, but it is not a justification and still less does it entitle you to claim a glorious medal for yourself. What medal authorises the Socialisme ou Barbarie group to speak so dismissively of the recent past of the revolutionary movement, its internal struggles, and its groups, whose only fault is to have posed some ten or twenty years in advance the problems which SouB in its ignorance claims to have discovered today?
The fact of having come into political life very recently during the course of the war, and even more the fact that it has come from the politically corrupted organisation of Trotskyism, in whose swamp it was floundering up till 1949, should not be invoked as a certificate of honour, as a guarantee of political maturity. The arrogant tone here bears witness to the evident ignorance of this group, which has not yet sufficiently freed itself from ways of thinking and discussing that derive from Trotskyism. If it looked at things in a different way, it would be seen quite easily that the ideas it announces today, and which it considers to be its original work, are for the most part a more or less happy reproduction of the ideas put forward by the left currents of the Third International (the Russian Workers’ Opposition, the Spartacists in Germany, the Council Communists in Holland, the Communist Left of Italy) over the course of the past 25 years.
If, instead of contenting itself with a few bits of knowledge and even of hearsay, the Socialisme ou Barbarie group had taken the trouble to make a deeper study of the many, though hard-to-find, documents of these left currents, it might perhaps have lost its pretensions to originality, but it would assuredly have gained in depth.
1 Marc’s wife and member of the GCF and later the ICC. See ‘Homage to our comrade Clara [55]’ which also recounts this incident.
2 In IR 128, 129, 130, 131, 134. See International Review 2000's : 100 - 139 [56]
3 We have also republished the GCF’s ‘Theses on the nature of the state and the proletarian revolution [57]’ from 1946, with a critical introduction.
4 This divergence had already appeared in Marseille, judging from the version provided by Malaquais in Planet without Visa, which has the fictional Marc arguing against the pro-allied position of the character Stepanoff, a thinly disguised version of Serge.
5 This joint intervention with the RKD was falsely described as “collaborating with Trotskyism” by the Partito Comunista Internazionalista, and served as a pretext for the expulsion of the GCF from the International Communist Left. But the RKD had clearly broken with Trotskyism on the key question of internationalism, opposition to the war, and denunciation of the USSR.
6 See for example our article on the internationalist conference in Holland [58] in 1947.
7 For Stinas, see our introduction to extracts from his memoirs in International Review 72 (Memoirs of a revolutionary (A. Stinas, Greece): Nationalism and antifascism [59]). See also ‘Greek Resistance in WW2: patriotism or internationalism [60]’. The memoirs of Stinas have been published in Greek and French Agis Stinas, Mémoires: un révolutionnaire dans la Grèce du XXe siècle, preface by Michel Pablo, translated by Olivier Houdart, La Brèche, Paris, 1990, pp369. A partial English translation can be found on libcom: Revolutionary defeatists in Greece in World War II - Aghis Stinas [61]. Stinas was unwavering in his opposition to the imperialist war and to the patriotic Resistance. In his case, given the lack of real centralisation in the self-proclaimed Fourth International, he had assumed for some years that this was the ‘normal’ position of the Trotskyist party. It was only later that he discovered the full extent of official Trotskyism’s capitulation to anti-fascism….
8 Internationalisme 41, January 1949, in the article ‘Where are we?’.
9 ICC note: Rassemblement Démocratique Révolutionnaire: a short-lived party formed by Sartre in 1947 along with various left social democrats and Trotskyists.
The ICC held public meetings in a number of cities across several countries to coincide with the 50th anniversary of May 1968. Generally speaking, those present broadly supported the way in which we characterised the movement:
The idea that May 68 had signalled the development of a wave of struggles internationally was generally of no surprise to those present. But paradoxically, it was still not considered the case that May 68 marked the end of the long period of counter-revolution that resulted from the defeat of the first world revolutionary wave and which, at the same time, opened a new course towards class confrontations between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. In particular, a number of characteristics of the current period, like the development of fundamentalism, the spread of wars across the planet, etc., tended to be seen as indicating that we are still in a counter-revolutionary period. For us, this is a mistake which has its source in a twofold problem.
On the one hand, there is insufficient knowledge of what the period opening up the world counter-revolution was like following the defeat of the first revolutionary wave, and thus a difficulty to really grasp what such a period meant for the working class and its struggle, but also for humanity insofar as the barbarism inherent in capitalism in crisis was no longer bound by any limits. This is why in this article we have chosen to go back to examine this period in detail. On the other hand, with the period that opened with May 68, although it may seem more familiar to the generations who – directly or indirectly – know about May 68, grasping its underlying dynamic is not something that comes spontaneously. In particular, it may be obscured by events and situations which, although important, do not constitute the decisive factors. This is why we will also return to this period by highlighting its fundamental differences with the period of counter-revolution.
Everyone was in agreement that, at an immediate level, after a struggle, a workers' mobilisation tends to fall back and often with it the will to fight, and this also exists at a deeper level throughout history. In fact, this gives validity to what Marx had pointed out on this subject in the 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, that the proletarian struggle alternates between advances, often very dynamic and dazzling (1848-49, 1864-71, 1917-23) and retreats (in 1850, 1872, and 1923) which, moreover, have each time led to the disappearance or degeneration of the political organisations that the class had given itself during the period of rising struggles (Communist League: established in 1847, dissolved in 1852; International Workers’ Association: founded in 1864, dissolved in 1876; Communist International: founded in 1919, degenerated and died in the mid 1920s; the life of the Socialist International 1889-1914, having followed a broadly similar course but with less clarity[1]).
The defeat of the first international revolutionary wave of 1917-23 would open the longest, deepest and most terrible period of counter-revolution suffered by the proletariat, with the working class as a whole losing its bearings, with the few remaining organisations loyal to the revolution being reduced to tiny minorities. But it also opened the door to an unleashing of barbarism that would surpass the horrors of the First World War. On the other hand, since 1968 the opposite dynamic has developed and there is no reason to say that it has now been exhausted, despite the major difficulties experienced by the proletariat since the early 1990s and with the extension and deepening of barbarism across the planet.
The period 1924 - 1967: the deepest ever counter-revolution suffered by the working class
The expression “It is midnight in the century”, from the title of a book by Victor Serge,[2] applies perfectly to the reality of this nightmare that lasted nearly half a century.
The terrible blows struck early on against the world revolutionary wave that had opened with the Russian revolution in 1917 already constituted the antechamber to the long series of bourgeois offensives against the working class that would plunge the workers' movement into the depths of the counter-revolution. For the bourgeoisie, it would not only be a question of defeating the revolution but also of delivering blows against the working class that it would not be able to recover from. Faced with a world revolutionary wave that had threatened the global capitalist order, and this was indeed its conscious and stated objective,[3] the bourgeoisie could not simply be content with driving the proletariat back; it had to do everything in its power to ensure that this experience would leave such an image to the future world proletariat that it would never want to do it again. Above all, it had to try to discredit forever the idea of communist revolution and the possibility of establishing a society without war, without classes and without exploitation. For this reason, it was able to benefit from political circumstances that were considerably favourable to it: the loss of the revolutionary stronghold in Russia was not the result of its defeat in the military confrontation with the white armies that tried to invade Russia, but came from its own internal degeneration (to which, of course, the considerable war effort contributed greatly). So much so that it would be easy for the bourgeoisie to make the monstrosity that emerged from the political defeat of the revolution, the “Socialist” USSR, look like communism. At the same time, the latter had to be perceived as the inevitable destiny of any struggle of the proletariat for its emancipation. All fractions of the world bourgeoisie, in all countries, from the far right to the Trotskyist far left, would participate in this lie.[4]
When the World War was ended by the main bourgeoisies involved in it in November 1918, it was with the obvious aim of preventing new centres of revolutionary activity from swelling the tide of the revolution that had been victorious in Russia and was threatening in Germany, where the bourgeoisie had been weakened by the military defeat. This sought to prevent the revolutionary fever, incited by the barbarism of the battlefields and by the unbearable exploitation and misery behind the front lines, from also seizing hold in other countries such as France and Great Britain. And this goal was generally achieved: in the victorious countries, the proletariat, while it had fervently acclaimed the Russian revolution, did not show a massive commitment to the flag of revolution for the overthrow of capitalism in order to put an end forever to the horrors of war. Exhausted by four years of suffering in the trenches or in the arms factories, it sought instead to seek rest, “taking advantage” of the peace that the imperialist bandits had just delivered. And since, in the final analysis, in all wars the defeated parties get the blame, the Entente countries (France, United Kingdom, Russia) removed all the responsibility from capitalism as a whole, and laid all the blame onto the Central Powers (Germany, Austria, Hungary). Even worse, the bourgeoisie in France promised workers a new era of prosperity on the basis of the reparations that would be imposed on Germany. In this way, the proletariat in Germany and in Russia would be all the more isolated.
But what would really happen, in both victorious and defeated countries, was the future that Rosa Luxemburg had outlined in her Junius Pamphlet: if the world proletariat did not succeed through its revolutionary struggle in building a new society on the smoking ruins of capitalism, then inevitably the latter would inflict even worse disasters on humanity.
The story of this new descent into hell, which culminated in the horrors of the Second World War, is tied up in many ways with that of the counter-revolution that reached its peak at the end of this conflict.
The white armies' offensive against Soviet Russia and the failure of revolutionary attempts in Germany and Hungary
Very soon after October 1917, Soviet power was confronted with the military offensives of German imperialism, which was not going to listen to any talk about peace.[5] The white armies, with economic support from abroad, were being formed in several parts of the country. And then, new white armies, directly set up abroad, were unleashed against the revolution until 1920. The country was surrounded, hemmed in by the white armies, and was being suffocated economically. The civil war would leave the country totally devastated. Nearly 980,000 Red Army soldiers died and around 3 million from among the civilian population.[6]
In Germany, the axis of the counter-revolution was constituted by the alliance between two major forces: the traitorous SPD (Social Democratic Party) and the army. They contributed in setting up a new force, the Freikorps, the mercenaries of the counter-revolution, the nucleus of which would become the Nazi movement. The bourgeoisie would inflict a terrible blow on the Berlin proletariat by drawing it into a premature insurrection in Berlin, which was brutally suppressed in January 1919. Thousands of Berlin workers and communists – the majority of whom were also workers – were slaughtered (1200 workers were executed by firing squad), tortured and thrown into prison. Rosa Luxemburg, Karl Liebknecht and then Leo Jogisches were murdered. The working class was losing a part of its vanguard and its most perceptive leader in the person of Rosa Luxemburg who would have been a valuable compass in the face of the looming turmoil.
In addition to the inability of the workers' movement in Germany to thwart this manoeuvre, it would also suffer from a glaring lack of coordination between the various centres of the movement: after the Berlin uprising, defensive struggles broke out in the Ruhr involving millions of miners, steel workers, textile workers from the industrial regions of the Lower Rhine and Westphalia (1st quarter of 1919), followed (at the end of March) by struggles in central Germany and again in Berlin. The Executive Council of the Republic of the councils of Bavaria was proclaimed in Munich and then overthrown, opening the door to brutal repression. Berlin, the Ruhr, Berlin again, Hamburg, Bremen, Central Germany, Bavaria, everywhere the proletariat was crushed, everywhere sector by sector. All the ferocity, the barbarism, the cunning, the calls of denunciation and the military technology were put at the service of repression. For example, “to take back Alexanderplatz in Berlin, battlefield weapons were used for the first time in the history of revolutions: namely, light and heavy artillery, bombs weighing up to one hundredweight, aerial reconnaissance and aerial bombardment”.[7] Thousands of workers were shot or killed in the fighting; communists were hunted down and many were sentenced to death.
In March the workers in Hungary also engaged capital in revolutionary clashes. On March 21, 1919, the Republic of Councils was proclaimed but it was crushed during the summer by counter-revolutionary troops. For more information, read our articles in the International Review.[8]
Despite the subsequent heroic attempts of the proletariat in Germany, in 1920 (in the face of the Kapp putsch) and 1921 (the March Action),[9] which testify to the persistence of a strong fighting spirit, the momentum was no longer towards the political reinforcement of the German proletariat as a whole, but the opposite.
The ravages of the war against the offensives of the international bourgeoisie, including the considerable losses suffered by the proletariat, its political weakening with the loss of political power by the workers' councils and the dissolution of the Red Guard, and the political isolation of the revolution – all this constituted a favourable ground for the development of opportunism within the Bolshevik party and the Communist International.[10] The repression of the Kronstadt insurrection in 1921, which took place in reaction to the loss of power by the Soviets, was ordained by the Bolshevik party. From being the vanguard of the revolution at the time of the seizure of power, it was to become the vanguard of counter-revolution at the end of an internal degeneration that could not be prevented by the fractions that emerged within this party to fight specifically against growing opportunism.[11]
The broad masses that in Russia, Germany and Hungary had stormed the heavens were no longer present. They were blooded, exhausted, defeated, and could not take anymore. Within the victorious countries of the war, the proletariat had been unable to strike an effective blow. All this would signal the political defeat of the proletariat everywhere in the world.
Stalinism becomes the spearhead of the world bourgeoisie against the revolution
The process of the degeneration of the Russian revolution accelerated when Stalin took control of the Bolshevik party. The adoption in 1925 of the thesis of “socialism in one country”, which became the doctrine of the Bolshevik Party and the Communist International, constituted a breaking point with no return. This betrayal of proletarian internationalism, the basic principle of the proletarian struggle and the communist revolution, would now be adopted and defended by all the Communist Parties of the world,[12] which was totally opposed to the historic project of the working class. And just as it signals the abandonment of the whole proletarian project, the thesis of socialism in one country corresponded with Russia's growing integration into world capitalism.
From the mid-1920s, Stalin would pursue a policy of merciless liquidation of all Lenin's former companions by making maximum use of the repressive bodies that the Bolshevik Party had set up to resist the white armies (notably the political police, the Cheka).[13] The whole capitalist world had recognised in Stalin the right man for the job, the one who would eradicate the last vestiges of the October Revolution and to whom it was necessary to give all the necessary support to smash and exterminate the generation of proletarians and revolutionaries who, in the middle of the world war, had dared to engage in a struggle to the death against the capitalist order.[14]
Revolutionaries were hunted down and suppressed by Stalinism, wherever they were, and this with the help of the great democracies, the same people who had sent their white armies to starve and try to overthrow the power of the soviets.
From this point, Stalin's USSR is seen as socialism, while any consciousness of the real proletarian project starts to disappear
Stalin's Russia was presented by the Stalinist bourgeoisie, as well as by the world bourgeoisie, as the realisation of the ultimate goal of the proletariat, the establishment of socialism. In this endeavour, all the factions of the world bourgeoisie collaborated, both the democratic factions and the various national Communist Parties.
The vast majority of those who still believed in the revolution would identify its purpose as the establishment of a regime like the USSR in other countries. The more the light was shed on the reality of the situation of the working class in the USSR, the deeper would be the division in the world proletariat: those who would continue to defend its “progressive” character (despite all its shortcomings), with the idea that there was “no bourgeoisie” in the Soviet Union; those for whom, on the contrary, the situation in the USSR was seen as a monstrosity, but against which they felt powerless to pose the alternative. Only a smaller and smaller minority of revolutionaries supported the proletarian project and stayed loyal to it.
The proletariat confronted with the crisis of 1929 and the 1930s
The years following the 1929 crisis dramatically affected the living conditions of the world proletariat, especially in Europe and the United States. But generally speaking its reactions to this situation did not provide a sufficiently dynamic class response that could challenge the established order. Far from it. Worse still, notable reactions in France and Spain were diverted into the impasse of the antifascist struggle.
In France, the great wave of strikes that followed the arrival of the Popular Front government in 1936 clearly demonstrated the limitations imposed on the working class by the leaden yoke of the counter-revolution. The wave of strikes had begun with spontaneous occupations of factories and did show a certain combativity of the workers. But, from the very first days, the left would use this gigantic mass to manoeuvre and to impose the measures of state capitalism on the whole French bourgeoisie, measures needed for dealing with the economic crisis and preparing for war. While it was true that for the first time in France there were factory occupations, it was also the first time that we would see the workers singing both the International and the Marseillaise and marching behind both the red flag and the Tricolour.[15] The apparatus constituted by the Communist Party and the unions was in control of the situation, managing to lock up the workers, who had let themselves be lulled by the sound of the accordion inside the factories.
The Spanish proletariat had stayed somewhat isolated from the First World War and the revolutionary wave,[16] so its physical forces remained relatively intact in dealing with the attacks that rained on it throughout the 1930s. There were nevertheless more than a million deaths between 1931 and 1939, of which the most important part would be a consequence of the civil war between the Republican camp and that of General Franco, which had absolutely nothing to do with the class struggle of the proletariat but was on the contrary made possible through its weakening. The situation was precipitated in 1936 with the coup d'état by General Franco. There was an immediate response from the workers: on 19 July 1936, the workers took strike action and went en masse to the army barracks to disarm the coup, without worrying about the contrary directives of the Popular Front and the Republican government. Uniting the struggle for demands with the political struggle, the workers held back Franco's murderous hand, but not that of the bourgeois faction organised in the Popular Front. Barely a year later, in May 1937, the Barcelona proletariat rose up again, but out of desperation, and it was massacred by the Popular Front government, the Spanish Communist Party with its Catalan branch of the PSUC at the helm, while the Francoist troops willingly halted their advance to allow the Stalinist executioners to crush the workers.
This terrible working class tragedy, which is still misrepresented today as “a Spanish social revolution” or “a great revolutionary adventure”, is a mark, on the contrary, of the triumph of the counterrevolution, with the ideological and physical crushing of the last living forces of the European proletariat. This massacre would be a dress rehearsal that paved the royal way to the unleashing of the imperialist war.[17]
The 1930s: the bourgeoisie has its hands free once again to impose its solution to the crisis
The Weimar Republic in Germany had distinguished itself with the introduction of extreme measures to exploit the working class alongside others that gave workers some representation in the company they worked for, with the sole intent of mystifying them.
In Germany, there was no real opposition between the Weimar Republic (1923) and fascism (1933): the former had permitted the revolutionary threat to be crushed, dispersing the proletariat, and clouding its consciousness; the latter, Nazism, would finish the process off, uniting capitalist society by using the iron fist to smash any remaining proletarian threat.[18]
Parties appeared in all the European countries claiming to be either pro-Hitler or pro-Mussolini and they all supported a programme of strengthening and concentrating political and economic power in the hands of a single party state. Their influence grew alongside a widespread anti-working class offensive by the repressive state apparatus reinforced by the army, and by the fascist troops where needed. From Romania to Greece, we saw the development of fascist-type organisations charged with preventing any working class reaction and with the collusion of the national state. The capitalist dictatorship became overt, and most often took the form of the Mussolini or Hitler model.
However, in the industrialised countries least affected by the crisis, retaining the framework of democracy was still possible. Indeed, this was necessary to mystify the proletariat. Fascism, having given rise to “antifascism”, had strengthened the ability of the “democratic powers” to use this mystification. The ideology of the Popular Fronts[19] made it possible to keep the workers disoriented behind the programmes of national unity and preparation for imperialist war; and, in collusion with the Russian bourgeoisie, most of the Communist Parties subservient to the new imperialist order organised a vast campaign on the rise of the fascist peril.[20] The bourgeoisie would only be able to wage war by deceiving the proletariat and making it believe that it was its war too: “With the halt to the class struggle, or more precisely the destruction of the class power of the proletariat, the destruction of its consciousness and the diversion of its struggles, the bourgeoisie used its intermediaries inside the proletariat to empty the class struggles of their revolutionary content and to derail them onto the paths of reformism and nationalism, which was the ultimate and conclusive condition for the outbreak of the imperialist war.”[21]
The massacres of the Second World War
The majority of the soldiers enrolled by both camps did not set out with much enthusiasm, still mindful of the deaths of their fathers just 25 years earlier. And what they were confronted with would not do much to raise their mood: the “Blitzkrieg” caused 90,000 deaths and 120,000 wounded on the French side, 27,000 dead on the German side. The debacle in France would see ten million people die under appalling conditions. One and a half million prisoners were sent to Germany. The conditions for the survivors were totally inhuman: the massive exodus of the people in France and the Nazi state terror bearing down on the German population.
In France as in Italy, many workers joined the maquis at that time. The Stalinist party and the Trotskyists had sold them a fraudulently distorted view of the Paris Commune (shouldn't the workers take a stand against their own bourgeoisie led by Pétain – the new Thiers – when the Germans were occupying France?) With the outbreak of the war and the population terrified and powerless, many French and European workers were recruited into the resistance groups and would now be killed believing they were fighting for the “socialist liberation” of France, Italy... The Stalinist and Trotskyist resistance groups were directing their odious propaganda around the idea that the workers would be “at the forefront of the struggle for a people's independence”.
While the First World War killed 20 million people, the Second World War would kill 50 million, 20 million of whom were Russians killed on the European front. 10 million people died in the concentration camps, 6 million of them as a result of the Nazi policy of exterminating the Jews. Although none of the macabre abuses of Nazism are now unknown to the general public, unlike the crimes committed by the great democracies, the Nazi crimes remain an irrefutable illustration of the boundless barbarism of decadent capitalism, and the heinous hypocrisy of the Allied camp. Indeed, during the liberation, the Allies pretended to have just discovered the concentration camps. This was a pure masquerade to conceal their own barbarity by exposing that of the defeated enemy. In fact, the bourgeoisie, both English and American, had known perfectly well of the existence of the camps and what was happening in them. And yet, strange as it may appear, it did not talk about it throughout most of the war and did not make it a central theme of its propaganda. In fact, the governments of Churchill and Roosevelt feared like the plague that the Nazis would empty the camps and massively expel the Jews. And so, they refused offers of an exchange of one million Jews; even in exchange for nothing.[22]
In the final year of the war, the bombardments were directly targeted on areas where the workers were concentrated, in order to weaken the working class as much as possible by decimating and terrorising it.
The world bourgeoisie takes steps to prevent the possibility of a proletarian recovery
The objective was to prevent the repeat of a proletarian uprising like the ones in 1917 and 1918 in response to the horrors of the war. This is why the Anglo-American bombings – mainly in Germany but also in France – were purposely barbaric. The toll of what was undoubtedly one of the greatest war crimes, in the course of the Second World War, was around 200,000 dead,[23] almost all civilians. For example, the bombing in 1945 of Dresden, a hospital town with no strategic interest had no other purpose than terrorising the civilian populations.[24] By comparison, Hiroshima, another heinous crime, killed 75,000 people and the horrific American bombings of Tokyo in March 1945 caused 85,000 deaths!
When Mussolini was overthrown in 1943 and replaced by Marshal Badoglio, who was sympathetic to the Allies, the Allies although they already controlled the south of the country, were in no rush to move northwards. It was a case of letting the fascists settle scores with the working masses who were renewing the struggle against their class oppressors in the industrial regions of northern Italy. When asked about his passivity, Churchill replied: “Let the Italians stew in their own juice”.
From the end of the war, the Allies favoured Russian occupation, especially in areas where workers’ revolts had occurred. The Red Army was the best equipped to restore order in these countries either by slaughtering the proletariat or by diverting it from its class terrain in the name of “socialism”.
A similar division of labour was established between the Red Army and the German army. When it had already reached the suburbs of Warsaw and Budapest, the “Red Army” didn't lift a finger. It let the German army crush the insurrections that were poised to drive them out. Thus Stalin entrusted Hitler with the task of slaughtering tens of thousands of armed workers who could have upset his plans.
Not content with offering Stalin territories where there was a risk of social movements, the “democratic” bourgeoisie of the victorious countries called on the Communist Parties to join the governments in most European countries (notably in France and Italy), allocating them high-ranking positions in various ministries (Thorez – secretary of the French Communist Party – was appointed vice-president of the Council in France in 1944).
Terror was inflicted on the German population immediately after the war
In continuity with the massacres designed to prevent any proletarian uprising in Germany at the end of the war, those that took place after the war were no less barbaric and expeditious.
Germany was transformed into a vast death camp by the occupying powers of Russia, Britain, France and the United States. Many more Germans died after the war than in the battles, bombings and war concentration camps. According to James Bacque, the author of Crimes et Mercies: Le sort des civils allemands sous occupation alliée, 1944-1950”,[25] more than 9 million died as a result of the policy of Allied imperialism between 1945 and 1950.
It was only when this deadly objective had been achieved and American imperialism began to see that the post-war exhaustion of Europe could lead to the domination of Russian imperialism over the whole continent, that the policy of Potsdam was changed. The reconstruction of Western Europe depended on resurrecting the German economy. The Berlin Airlift in 1948 was the symbol of this change of strategy.[26] Of course, just like the bombing of Dresden, considered “...the most beautiful terror raid [that] the victorious Allies carried out in the whole war”, the democratic bourgeoisie did everything possible to obscure the true reality of the barbarism that was broadly shared by the two sides in the World War.
The proletariat was not able to rise up directly against the war
Despite the fact that struggles broke out from time to time in various places, particularly those in Italy in 1943, the proletariat was not able to visibly hold back the barbarism of the Second World War, as it had done with the First.
The First World War had won millions of workers to internationalism; the Second World War cast them into the depths of the most despicable chauvinism, in the hunting down of the “Boche”[27] and the “collabos”.[28]
The proletariat was at rock bottom. What was presented to it, and what it interpreted as its great “victory”, the triumph of democracy over fascism, was in fact its most complete historical defeat. It made possible the consolidation of the ideological pillars of the capitalist order: the proletariat was overwhelmed by the feeling of victory and euphoria, the belief in the “sacred virtues” of bourgeois democracy – the same democracy that had led it into the butchery of two imperialist wars and crushed its revolution in the early 1920s. Then during the period of reconstruction, and the post-war economic “boom” and with it the short-lived improvement in its living conditions in the West, it was prevented from seeing the extent of the real defeat It had suffered.[29]
In the Eastern European countries, who were not beneficiaries of the manna of the American Marshall Plan because the Stalinist parties refused it on Moscow's orders, the situation took considerably longer to improve. The workers were presented with the mystification of “constructing socialism”. This mystification had some degree of success, such as in Czechoslovakia, where the “Prague coup” of February 1948 – i.e. the Stalinist take-over of the government – met with the approval of many workers.
Once this illusion began to wear thin, workers’ uprisings like the one in Hungary in 1956 broke out, but they were severely repressed by Russian soldiers.
The involvement of Russian troops in the repression then became an additional stimulus for nationalism in the Eastern European countries. At the same time, it was used extensively in propaganda by the “democratic” and pro-American sectors of the bourgeoisie of the Western European countries, while the Stalinist parties of these countries used the same propaganda to present the Hungarian workers' insurrection as a chauvinist, even a “fascist” movement, in the pay of American imperialism.
Moreover, throughout the “Cold War”, and even when it gave way to “peaceful coexistence” after 1956, the division of the world into two blocs was a major instrument for the mystification of the working class.
In the 1950s the working class was still divided and disoriented by the same kind of politics as existed in the 1930s: one part of the working class no longer wanted to know anything about communism (which was identified with the USSR), while the other part continued to suffer under the ideological domination of the Stalinist parties and their unions. Hence, following on from the Korean War, the confrontation between East and West was used to sow divisions inside the working class and to mobilise millions of workers behind the Soviet camp in supporting “the struggle against imperialism”. At the same time, the colonial wars provided an additional opportunity to deflect workers away from their class terrain, once more behind the “struggle against imperialism” (and not the struggle against capitalism) in which the USSR was presented as the champion of the “rights and the freedom of the people”. This kind of campaign continued in many countries throughout the 1950s and 1960s, particularly during the Vietnam War, where the United States began its large-scale intervention in 1961.[30]
Another consequence of this very long and profound retreat of the working class was the organic rupture with the communist fractions of the past;[31] with the consequence that the burden of responsibility was passed onto future generations of revolutionaries to critically reclaim the acquisitions of the workers' movement.
The crisis of 1929 and the 1930s had, at best, provoked a proletarian combativity as in France and Spain, but, as we have seen previously, these movements were diverted from the class terrain into antifascism and the defence of democracy, thanks to the grip of the Stalinists, Trotskyists and trade unions. This only contributed in a further reinforcing of the counter-revolution.
1968 was only the start of the return of the global economic crisis and yet, the effects in France (rising unemployment, wage freezes, the drive for increased productivity, attacks on social security) explain a large part of the rise in workers' combativity in that country from 1967 onwards. Far from being channelled by the Stalinists and trade unions, the renewal of workers' combativity was turning away from union-led strikes and “days of action”. As early as 1967, faced with the violent repression by the employers and police, there were some very fierce confrontations where the unions lost control on several occasions.
The purpose of this article is not to go back over all the important aspects of May 68 in France. For this reason, we refer the reader to the articles, “May 68 and the revolutionary perspective” written on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of these events.[32] Nevertheless, recalling certain facts is important to illustrate the change in the dynamics of the class struggle that took place in May 1968.
In May, the social atmosphere changed radically. “On May 13, every town in the country saw the most important demonstrations since World War II. The working class was massively present alongside the students. (...) At the end of the demonstrations, practically all the universities were occupied, not only by the students but also by many young workers. Everywhere, anyone could speak. Discussions were not limited to questions about universities and repression. They began to confront all the social problems: conditions of work, exploitation, the future of society. (…) On May 14 discussions continued in many firms. After the huge demonstrations the day before, with the enthusiasm and feelings of strength that emanated from them, it was difficult to carry on as if nothing had happened. In Nantes, with the workers of Sud-Aviation carried along by the youngest workers, a spontaneous strike broke out and they decided to occupy the factory. The working class had begun to take up the reins.”[33]
The traditional method of corralling the struggle used by the bourgeoisie wasn't much use faced with the spontaneity with which the working class entered the struggle. Thus, in the three days following the demonstration on 13 May, the strike spread spontaneously to workplaces throughout France. The movement overflowed the unions and left them behind. No specific demands were raised, but a common pattern existed: all-out strike, occupations that were not time-limited, management taken captive, red flags raised. In the end, the CGT called for spreading the strike, aiming to “move things along”.[34] But even before the CGT's instructions were known, there were already a million workers on strike.
The working class's growing consciousness of its own power stimulated discussion and especially political discussion. This was to some extent reminiscent of the political life that the working class experienced in the revolutionary ferment of 1917, recorded in the writings of Trotsky and John Reed.
The veil of lies woven for decades by the counter-revolution and its supporters, both Stalinist and democratic, was beginning to get very thin. Amateur videos shot in the occupied Sud-Aviation factory in Nantes showed a passionate discussion among a group of workers about the role of the strike committees under “dual power”. The duality of power in 1917 was the product of the struggle for real power between the bourgeois state and the workers’ councils. In many of the factories on strike in 1968, the workers had elected strike committees. It was very far from being in a pre-revolutionary situation, but what was happening was an attempt by the working class to reclaim its own experience, its revolutionary past. Another example bears this out: “Some workers asked those who defended the idea of the revolution to come and argue their point of view in their occupied factories. In Toulouse, the small nucleus that went on to form the ICC's section in France was invited to expound its ideas about workers' councils in the occupied JOB (paper and cardboard) factory. And the most significant thing was that this invitation came from the union militants of the CGT, and those of the French Communist Party. The latter had to negotiate for an hour with the permanent officials of the CGT and the PCF who had come from the big Sud-Aviation factory to ‘reinforce’ the JOB strike picket to get authorisation to allow the ‘leftists’ to enter the factory. For more than six hours, workers and revolutionaries, sitting on rolls of cardboard, discussed the revolution, the history of the workers' movement, the soviets and even the betrayals... of the PCF and the CGT.”[35]
Such a reflection allowed thousands of workers to rediscover the historical role of workers' councils, as well as the accomplishments of the working class struggle, such as the revolutionary efforts in Germany in 1919. Similarly, there was a growing criticism of the role played by the French Communist Party (which then defined itself as a party of order) not only in relation to the events of 1968 itself, but also since the Russian revolution. This was the first time that Stalinism and the Communist Party as guardians of the established order had been called into question on such a scale. The criticism also affected the unions, which increased when they openly showed themselves to be sowing divisions inside the working class in order to get it to go back to work.[36]
It was the start of a new era, characterised by a re-awakening of class-consciousness across the working masses. This break with the counter-revolution did not mean that the latter would not continue to weigh negatively on the subsequent development of the class struggle, nor that workers' consciousness was free of very strong illusions, particularly concerning the obstacles to be overcome on the road to revolution, and indeed it was much further away at the time than the great majority imagined.
Such a characterisation of May 68 as an illustration of the end of the counter-revolutionary period was confirmed by the fact that, far from remaining an isolated phenomenon, these events would on the contrary constitute the starting point for the resumption of the class struggle on an international scale, spurred on by the deepening of the economic crisis, whose corollary was the development of a proletarian political milieu on an international scale.[37] The founding of “Révolution Internationale” in 1968 was an illustration of this, since this group would play a leading role in the process that would lead to the founding of the ICC in 1975, in which Révolution Internationale became its section in France. Unlike the dark period of the counter-revolution, the bourgeoisie was now confronted with a class that was not ready to accept the sacrifices demanded from the economic war between states. It also obstructed the slide towards world war in opposing the sacrifices demanded by imperialist war; this would become clearer later, at least as concerned the main bastions of the class in Europe and the United States.
The international recovery of class struggle from 1968
The ICC has just devoted an article to this question, “The advances and retreats in the class struggle since 1968”,[38] which we recommend to our readers and from which we draw elements necessary to highlight the differences between the counter-revolutionary period and the historical period opened with May 1968. Simply put, the fundamental difference between the period of counter-revolution, starting from a heavy defeat of the working class, and the one that opened with May 68, lies in the fact that since this emergence of the struggle and despite all the difficulties with which the proletariat has been confronted, it has not suffered a decisive defeat.
The deepening of the open economic crisis, which was only in its infancy at the end of the 1960s, has produced a significant development of proletarian combativity and consciousness.
There were three successive waves of struggle over the two decades after 1968.
The first, undoubtedly the most spectacular, gave us the Italian “hot autumn” in 1969, the violent uprising in Cordoba, Argentina, in 1969 and struggles in Poland in 1970, and important movements in Spain and Great Britain in 1972. There was also a “hot autumn” in Germany in 1969 with many wildcat strikes. In Spain in particular, workers began to organise themselves through mass assemblies, a process that culminated in Vitoria in 1976. The international dimension of the wave was demonstrated by echoes in Israel (1969) and Egypt (1972) and, later, by the uprisings in the townships of South Africa, which were led by struggle committees (the Civics).
After a short break in the mid-1970s, there was a second wave with strikes by Iranian oil workers, steel mill workers in France in 1978, the “winter of discontent” in Britain, the dockworkers' strike in Rotterdam, led by an independent strike committee, and steel strikes in Brazil in 1979 which also challenged union control. In Asia there was the Kwangju revolt in South Korea. This wave of struggles culminated in Poland in 1980, certainly the most important episode of class struggle since 1968, and even since the 1920s.
Although the severe repression of the Polish workers brought this wave to a halt, it did not take long before a new movement took place with the struggles in Belgium in 1983 and1986, the general strike in Denmark in 1985, the miners' strike in Britain in 1984-85, the railway and health workers' struggles in France in 1986 and 1988, and the movement of education workers in Italy in 1987. The struggles in France and Italy, in particular – like the mass strike in Poland – showed a real capacity for self-organisation with general assemblies and strike committees.
This movement of struggles in waves was not going nowhere; it made real advances in class-consciousness expressed in the following characteristics:
But the experience of these 20 years of struggle had not only brought out the “negative” lessons for the working class (of what not to do). It has also provided lessons about what to do:
Similarly, the more sophisticated manoeuvres developed by the bourgeoisie to deal with the class struggle also showed that there has been some development during this period. Thus, to face up to the growing disenchantment with the official unions and the threat posed by self-organisation, it developed forms of unionism which could even appear to be “outside the unions” (the 'Coordinations' set up by the far left in France, for example).
The proletariat puts a brake on war
During the twenty years after May 1968, the bourgeoisie, unable to inflict a decisive historic defeat on the working class, was incapable of implementing a mobilisation for a new world war, contrary to the situation of the 1930's, as we showed above.
In fact it was out of the question that the bourgeoisie would launch a world war without being fully assured of the docility of the proletariat, an indispensable condition for it to accept the sacrifices required for a state of war in which the mobilisation of all the living forces of the nation, as much in production as on the fronts, is demanded. Such an objective was totally unrealistic as long as the proletariat wasn't ready to submit itself obediently to the measures of austerity that the bourgeoisie had to take in order to face up to the consequences of the economic crisis. That's why a third world war didn’t take place during this period, a time where tensions between the blocs were at their height and the alliances amongst them were already firmly established through the two blocs. Further, in none of the historic concentrations of the proletariat did the bourgeoisie try to mobilise the proletariat as cannon-fodder in the local wars relevant to the east-west rivalry which, during this time, had bloodied the world.
This is particularly true of the working class of the West but equally applies to those of the East, although the latter were weaker politically, in the USSR especially, given the damage done by the steamroller of Stalinism. The Stalinist bourgeoisie, mired in a rapidly deteriorating economic swamp, was manifestly incapable of mobilising its workers in a military solution to its economic bankruptcy, a fact particularly illustrated with the strikes in Poland in 1980.
That being said, even if the working class was an obstacle to world war up to the end of the 1980's, given that it had been capable of developing its combats of resistance against the attacks of capital in the two decades after 1968 without submitting to a decisive defeat that would have overturned a global dynamic of towards confrontation between the classes, that's not to say that it was strong enough to prevent wars across the planet. In fact they never stopped during this period. In the majority of cases they were the expression of imperialist rivalries between East and West, not a direct confrontation between them but through client countries. And in these countries on the periphery of capitalism, the proletariat didn't have the strength to paralyse the armed force of the bourgeoisie.
The proletariat faced with the decomposition of capitalism
Despite the advances made in the class struggle, notably through the development of class consciousness and also the inability of the bourgeoisie to dragoon the proletariat into a new world conflict, the working class was nevertheless incapable of developing its perspective of revolution, of posing its own alternative to the crisis of the system.
Thus, neither of the two fundamental classes could impose their solution to the crisis of capitalism. Deprived of any end result but still sinking into its long-term economic crisis, capitalism began to rot on its feet and this degeneration affected capitalist society at every level. Here capitalism enters into a new phase in its decadence, that of social decomposition. We've often showed how this phase is synonymous with the growing difficulties for the class struggle.[39]
Looking over the three last decades, we can say that the setback in consciousness has been profound, causing a type of amnesia in relation to the advances of the period 1968-1989. This is fundamentally explained by two factors:
Despite the enormous difficulties that the working has experienced since 1990, two elements should be taken into account in order to get the whole picture:
In fact, in the last decades, there have been a certain number of important movements which tend to support this analysis:
The threats that the survival of capitalism holds over humanity shows that revolution is more than ever a necessity for the human race: from the expansion of military chaos to the ecological catastrophe; from famine to the development of unprecedented diseases. The decadence of capitalism, and its decomposition, certainly increases the danger that the objective basis of a new society could be definitively destroyed if decomposition advances beyond a certain point. But even in its latest phase, capitalism still produces the forces which can be used to overthrow it - in the words of the Communist Manifesto of 1848: “What the Bourgeoisie therefore produces, above all, are its own grave diggers”.
Thus, with the entry of capitalism into its phase of decomposition, even if it brings with it greater difficulties for the proletariat, nothing indicates that the latter has suffered a defeat of irreversible consequences and, from this, has accepted all the sacrifices regarding its living and working conditions that would imply a mobilisation for imperialist war.
We don't know when or with what force the next manifestations of the potentialities of the proletariat will be produced. What we do know is that the determined and appropriate intervention of a revolutionary minority strengthens the future of the class struggle.
Silvio (July 2018)
[1]. See “The Historic Course”, International Review nº 18.
[2] . Victor Serge is known chiefly for his famous narrative of the history of the Russian revolution, Year One of the Russian Revolution.
[3] . “A new era is born: the era of the disintegration of capitalism, of its internal collapse. The epoch of the proletarian communist revolution”. Letter of invitation to the First Congress of the Communist International. On this subject, read our article “Communism is not a nice idea, its on the historical agenda, iv: The Platform of the Communist International”. International Review nº 94.
[4] . The Fourth International, by supporting imperialist Russia (after Trotsky's death), in turn betrayed proletarian internationalism. See our article “Le trotskisme et la deuxième guerre mondiale” in our pamphlet Le Trotskysme contre la classe ouvrière.
[5] . This would lead to the need for the government in Russia to sign the Brest-Litovsk agreement in order to avoid the worst.
[6] . Read our article “The world bourgeoisie against the October Revolution (Part I)”, in International Review nº 160.
[7] . Paul Frölich, Rudolf Lindau, Albert Schreiner, Jakob Walcher, Revolution and Counterrevolution in Germany 1918-1920, Marxist Science eds, 2013.
[8] . Read our articles “German Revolution (iii): The premature insurrection” in International Review nº 83, and “Germany 1918-19: civil war” in International Review nº 136.
[9] . Read our article “The March Action 1921, the danger of petty bourgeois impatience” in International Review nº 93.
[10] . “Attempts to gain support of the masses in a phase of the declining activity of these masses led to opportunistic ‘solutions’ - the growing insistence on work in parliament and the trade unions, calls for the ‘Eastern Peoples’ to stand up against imperialism and, above all, the policy of the United Front with the socialist and social democratic parties that threw overboard all the hard-earned clarity about the capitalist nature of those who had become social patriots.” “The Communist Left and the Continuity of Marxism” available on our website.
[11]. See our article “Communism is not just a nice idea, it's a material necessity, ix: 1922-23: The communist fractions against the rising counter-revolution” in International Review nº 101.
[12] . Here again this was opposed by the left fractions. See the article “The Communist Left and the continuity of Marxism” on our website.
[13] . Read our article “How Stalin wiped out the militants of the October 1917 revolution”, in World Revolution nº 312.
[14] . Thus, for example, from 1925 onwards Stalin received the full support of the world bourgeoisie for his struggle against the left-wing opposition within the Bolshevik party, which tried to maintain an internationalist position against the thesis of “building socialism in one country”. Read our article “Quand les démocraties soutenait Staline pour écraser le prolétariat” on our website.
[15] . As our comrade Marc Chirik himself said: “To go through these years of terrible isolation, to see the French proletariat flying the Tricolour, the flag of the Versailles and singing the Marseillaise, all this in the name of communism, was, for all the generations that had remained revolutionary, a source of terrible sadness”. And it was precisely at the time of the war in Spain that this feeling of isolation reached one of its culminating points when many organisations that had managed to maintain class positions were dragged along by the “antifascist” wave. See our article “Marc: From the October 1917 revolution to the Second World War”, International Review nº 65
[16] . However, it should be noted that a large minority within the CNT had declared itself in favour of joining the Communist International when it was founded.
[17] . See “The events of 19 July”, Bilan nº 36, October-November 1936, republished in International Review nº 6.
[18] . On this subject see “The Crushing of the German Proletariat and the Rise of Fascism” in Bilan nº 16 (March 1935), republished in International Review nº 71.
[19] . For more information, see “1936: The Popular Fronts in France and Spain: How the bourgeoisie mobilised the working class for war”, International Review nº 126.
[20] . On this subject see “The 1944 Commemorations: 50 Years of Imperialist Lies (Part I)” published in International Review nº 78.
[21] . “Report on the international situation of the July 1945 conference of the Gauche Communiste de France”, republished in International Review nº 59.
[22] . On this subject, see “Let us remember: the massacres and crimes of the ‘great democracies’” in International Review nº 66.
[23] . This is the figure put forward by American estimates made after the war.
[24] . Read our article “Quand les démocraties soutenait Staline pour écraser le prolétariat.” Available in French on our website.
[25] . This book is available in English under the title Crimes and Mercies: The Fate of German Civilians Under Allied Occupation, 1944-1950. For the author, “More than 9 million Germans died as a result of an imposed famine of the Allies and the policies of expulsion after the Second World War - a quarter of the country was annexed and about 15 million people were expelled in the greatest act of ethnic cleansing the world has ever seen. More than 2 million of them, including countless children, died on the road or in concentration camps in Poland and elsewhere. Western governments continue to deny that these deaths occurred.”
[26] . See our article “Berlin 1948: The Berlin Airlift hides the crimes of Allied imperialism” in International Review nº 95.
[27] . Boche is a derogatory term for a German soldier or a person of German origin, whose use by the French Communist Party in particular was intended to stir up chauvinistic hatred against Germans.
[28] . This refers to those who, during the Second World War, “betrayed” by collaborating with the German enemy.
[29] . Read our article “At the dawn of the 21st century: Why the proletariat has not yet overthrown capitalism (I)”, International Review nº 103.
[30] . Read our article “At the dawn of the 21st century: Why the proletariat has not yet overthrown capitalism (II)”, International Review nº 104.
[31] . Those that emerged from the former workers’ parties that degenerated with the defeat of the world revolutionary wave in 1917-23 .
[32] . These were two successive articles: “The student movement in the world in the 1960s” and “End of counter-revolution, historical revival of the world proletariat” published in International Reviews nº 133 and nº 134 respectively.
[33] . “May 68 and the revolutionary perspective (I): The student movement around the world in the 1960s”.
[34] . This would allow them to be present in the negotiations and to play a leading role in dividing up the movement to get a resumption of work, and to lead a series of separate negotiations in the various branches.
[35] . “May 68 and the revolutionary perspective (II): End of counter-revolution, historical revival of the world proletariat”.
[36] . The emphasis here on challenging the leadership of the Communist Party and the unions should not, however, suggest that they remained inactive. In many occupied factories, unions did their utmost to isolate workers from any outside contact that might have a “harmful” influence on them (from those they called the “leftists”). They kept the workers occupied in the factories playing ping-pong all day long.
[37] . This question justifies dedicating an article to it alone. We will do this later in an article on the evolution of the proletarian political milieu since 1968.
[38] . See International Review nº 161.
[39]. See: “Decomposition, final phase of the decadence of capitalism”. International Review nº 62.
[40]. Ibid.
[41]. The CPE was the French state's First Employment Contract whose aim was to make work more precarious for young workers. For an analysis of this movement, see “Theses on the spring 2006 student movement in France”, International Review nº 125.
[42]. See “The Indignados in Spain, Greece and Israel: from indignation to the preparation of class struggle”, International Review nº 147
Without the events of May 1968, the ICC would not exist. Marc Chirik had already helped to form a group in Venezuela, Internacialismo, which from 1964 onwards had defended all the basic positions which were to be taken up a decade later by the ICC. But Marc was aware from the start that it was the revival of the class struggle in the centres of world capitalism that would be decisive in inaugurating a change in the course of history. It was this understanding that propelled him to return to France and to play an active role in the movement of May-June, and this included seeking out contacts among its politicised avant-garde. Two young members of the Venezuelan group had already moved to France to study at Toulouse University, and it was alongside these comrades and a handful of others that Marc became a founder member of Révolution Internationale in October 1968 – the group that would play a central part in the formation of the ICC seven years later.
Since that time the ICC has never wavered from its conviction concerning the historic significance of May 68, and we have returned to the subject again and again. Every ten years or so we have published retrospective articles in our theoretical organ, the International Review, as well as material in our territorial press. We have held public meetings to mark its 40th and 50th anniversaries and intervened at events organised by others[1]. In this article, we begin by looking back at one of these articles, written at an anniversary which now has a definite symbolic value: 1988
In the first part of this new series[2], we concluded that the initial assessment made by RI -‘Understanding May’, written in 1969, according to which May 68 represented the first major reaction of the world working class to the resurfacing of capitalism’s historic economic crisis – had been entirely validated: despite capital’s often astonishing capacity to adapt to its sharpening contradictions, the crisis which at the end of the 60s could only be detected from its first symptoms has become both increasingly evident and to all intents and purposes permanent.
But what of our insistence that May 68 signalled the end of the previous decades of counter-revolution and the opening up of a new period, in which an undefeated working class would move towards massive and decisive struggles; and that in turn the outcome of these struggles would resolve the historical dilemma posed by the irresolvable economic crisis: world war, in the event of a new defeat for the working class, or world revolution and the construction of a new, communist society?
The 1988 article, ’20 years after May 1968 - Class struggle: the maturation of the conditions for revolution [70]’[3] began by arguing against the dominant scepticism of the day – the idea, very widespread in the bourgeois media and among a whole layer of the intellectual strata, that May 68 had at best been a beautiful utopian dream which harsh reality had caused to fade and die. Elsewhere in our press around the same time[4], we had also criticised the scepticism which affected large parts of the revolutionary milieu, and had done so since the events of 68 themselves – a tendency notably expressed by the refusal of the main heirs of the tradition of the Italian communist left to see in May 68 anything more than a wave of petty bourgeois agitation which had done nothing to lift the dead-weight of the counter-revolution.
Both the Bordigist and Damenist wings[5] of the post-war Italian left tradition responded in this manner. Both tend to see the party as something outside of history, since they consider that it is possible to maintain it whatever the balance of forces between the classes. They thus tend to see the struggle of the workers as essentially circular in nature, since it can only be transformed in a revolutionary sense by the intervention of the party, which begs the question of where the party itself comes from. The Bordigists in particular offered a caricature of this approach in 68, when they issued leaflets insisting that the movement would only go anywhere if it put itself behind the banners of The Party (i.e, their own small political group). Our current, on the other hand, has always countered that this is an essentially idealist approach which divorces the party from its material roots in the class struggle. We considered ourselves to be carrying on the real acquisitions of the Italian communist left, in its most fruitful period theoretically – the period of the Fraction in the 1930s and 40s, when it recognised that its own diminution from the preceding stage of the party was a product of the defeat of the working class, and that only a revival of the class struggle could provide the conditions for the transformation of the existing communist fractions into a real class party.
These conditions were indeed developing after 1968, not only at the level of politicised minorities, which went through an important phase of growth in the wake of the 68 events and subsequent upsurges of the working class, but also at a more general level. The class struggle that erupted in May 68 was not a flash in the pan but the starting signal of a powerful dynamic which would quickly come to the fore on a world wide scale.
Consistent with the marxist view that has long noted the wave-like process of the class movement, the article analyses three different international waves of struggle in the two decades after 68: the first, undoubtedly the most spectacular, encompassed the Italian Hot Autumn of 69, the violent uprisings in Cordoba, Argentina, in 69 and in Poland in 1970, and important movements in Spain and Britain in 1972 In Spain in particular the workers began to organise through mass assemblies, a process which reached its high point in Vitoria in 1976. The international dimension of the wave was demonstrated by its echoes in Israel (1969) and Egypt (1972) and, later on, by the uprisings in the townships of South Africa which were led by committees of struggle (the Civics)
After a short-pause in the mid-70s, there was a second wave, which included the strikes of the Iranian oil workers and the steel-workers of France in 1978, the ‘Winter of Discontent’ in Britain, the Rotterdam dock strike, led by an independent strike committee, and the steelworkers’ strikes in Brazil in 1979 which also challenged the control of the trade unions. This global movement culminated in the mass strike in Poland in 1980, whose level of self-organisation and unification marked it as the most important single episode in the world class struggle since 1968, and even since the 1920s. And although the severe repression of the Polish workers brought this wave to a halt, it was not long before a new upswing which took in the struggles in Belgium in 1983 and 1986, the general strike in Denmark in 1985, the miners’ strike in Britain in 1984-5, the struggles of rail and then health workers in France in 1986 and 1988, and the movement of education workers in Italy in 1987. The struggles in France Italy in particular – like the mass strike in Poland – displayed a real capacity for self-organisation through general assemblies and strike committees.
This was not a simple list of strikes. The article also highlights the fact that this wave-like movement was not going round in circles but was generating real advances in class consciousness:
But the experience of these 20 years of struggle hasn’t only produced negative lessons for the working class (what should not be done). It has also produced lessons on what is to be done:
At the same time, the article did not neglect the bourgeoisie’s responses to the danger of the class struggle: although it had been surprised by the outbreak of the May 68 movement, resorting to crude forms of repression which acted as a catalyst for the extension of the struggle, it had subsequently learned or re-learned a great deal in how to manage the resistance of its class enemy. It did not renounce the use of repression, of course, but it found more subtle means to present and justify its use, such as the scarecrow of terrorism; meanwhile, it developed its arsenal of democratic mystifications to derail struggles – particularly in countries which were still ruled by overt dictatorships – towards bourgeois political goals. At the level of the struggles themselves, it countered workers’ growing disenchantment with the official unions and the threat of self-organisation by developing more radical forms of trade unionism, which could even include ‘extra-union’ forms (the ‘coordinations’ set up by the extreme left in France for example).
The article had begun by recognizing that much of the optimistic talk about revolution in 1968 had indeed been utopian. This was partly because the whole discussion about the possibility of revolution was distorted by leftist notions that what was happening in Vietnam or Cuba were indeed socialist revolutions to be actively supported by the working class in the central countries; but also, even when revolution was understood as something that really involved the transformation of social relations, because in 1968 the objective conditions, above all the economic crisis, had only just begun to provide the material basis for a revolutionary challenge to capital. Since then, things had become more difficult, but more profound:
There is much in this analysis that we can still stand by today. And yet, we cannot help but be struck by a phrase which sums up the article’s assessment of the third wave of struggles:
In fact, the third wave, and indeed the entire period of struggles since 1968, was to come to a sudden halt with the collapse of the eastern bloc in 1989-91 and the accompanying tide of campaigns about the death of communism. This historic change in the world situation marked the definitive onset of a new phase in the decline of capitalism – the phase of decomposition.
The ICC had noted the symptoms of decomposition earlier on in the 80s, and a discussion about its implications for the class struggle was already underway in the organisation. However, the article about May 68 in IR 53, as well as the editorial in the same issue, provide evidence that its deeper significance had not been grasped. The article on 68 has a sub-heading “20 years of decomposition” without providing an explanation for the term, while the editorial only applies it to its manifestations at the level of imperialist conflicts – the phenomenon which was then termed “Lebanonisation”, the tendency for entire nation states to disintegrate under the weight of increasingly irrational imperialist rivalries. It’s probable that these imprecisions reflected real differences which had appeared at the 8th Congress of the ICC towards the end of 1988.
The dominant mood at this Congress had been one of over-optimism and even a kind of euphoria. Partly this reflected the understandable enthusiasm created by integration of two new sections of the ICC at the Congress, in Mexico and India. But it was expressed above all in certain analyses of the class struggle that were being put forward: the idea that new bourgeois mystifications were wearing out in a matter of months; exaggerated hopes in the struggles then taking place in Russia; the conception of a third wave that was marching ever onwards and upwards; and above all a reluctance to accept the idea that, in the face of growing social decomposition, the class struggle seemed to be “marking time” or stagnating (which, given the seriousness of the stakes involved, could only imply a tendency towards retreat or regression). This viewpoint was defended by Marc Chirik and a minority of comrades at the Congress. It was based on a clear awareness that the development of decomposition expressed a kind of historic stalemate between the classes. The bourgeoisie had not inflicted a decisive historic defeat on the working class and was not able to mobilise it for a new world war; but the working class, despite 20 years of struggle, which had held back the drive towards war, and which had indeed seen important developments in class consciousness, had been unable to develop the perspective of revolution, to raise its own political alternative to the crisis of the system. Deprived of any way forward, but still sunk in a very long-drawn out economic crisis, capitalism was beginning to rot on its feet, and this putrefaction was affecting capitalist society at every level[6].
This diagnosis was powerfully confirmed by the collapse of the eastern bloc. On the one hand, this momentous event was a product of decomposition. It highlighted the profound impasse of the Stalinist bourgeoisie, which was stuck in an economic mire but patently unable to mobilise its workers for a military solution to the bankruptcy of its economy (the struggles in Poland in 1980 had clearly demonstrated that to the Stalinist ruling class). At the same time, it exposed the severe political failings of this section of the world working class. The proletariat of the Russian bloc had certainly demonstrated its ability to fight on the defensive economic terrain, but faced with an enormous historical event which expressed itself largely at the political level, it was completely unable to offer its own alternative and as a class it was drowned in the democratic upsurge falsely described as a series of “people’s revolutions”
In turn, these events dramatically accelerated the process of decomposition on a world scale. This was most evident at the imperialist level, where the rapid break-up of the old bloc system allowed the tendency for “every man for himself” to increasingly dominate diplomatic and military rivalries. But this was also true in relation to the balance of class forces. In the wake of the debacle in the eastern bloc, the world bourgeoisie’s campaigns about the death of communism, about the impossibility of any working class alternative to capitalism, rained further blows on the ability of the international working class - notably in the central countries of the system - to generate a political perspective.
The ICC had not foreseen the events of 89-91, but we were able to respond to them with a coherent analysis based on previous theoretical work. This was true with regard both to understanding the economic factors involved in the downfall of Stalinism[7], and to predicting the growing chaos that, in the absence of blocs, would now be unleashed in the sphere of imperialist conflicts[8]. And on the level of the class struggle, we were able to see that the proletariat now faced a particularly difficult period:
This passage is very clear about the profoundly negative impact of the collapse of Stalinism, but it still contains a certain underestimation of the depth of the retreat. The estimate that this would be “momentary” already weakens the ensuing statement that the reflux will be “much deeper than the one which accompanied the defeat of 1981 in Poland”, and this problem was to manifest itself in our analyses in the years that followed, notably in the idea that certain struggles in the 90s – in 92, and again in 98 – heralded the end of the retreat. In reality, looking back over the past three decades, we can say that the retreat in class consciousness has not only continued, but has got deeper, resulting in a kind of amnesia about the acquisitions and advances of the 1968-89 period.
What are the main indicators of this trajectory?
We have to face the reality of all these difficulties and to draw their political consequences for the struggle to change society. But in our view, while the proletariat cannot avoid the harsh school of defeat, growing difficulties and even partial defeats do not yet add up to a historic defeat for the class and to the obliteration of the possibility of communism.
In the last decade or so, there have been a number of important movements which provide support for this conclusion. In 2006, we saw the massive mobilization of educated youth in France against the CPE[12]. The ruling class media often describes struggles in France, even when they are tightly controlled by the unions as in the most recent case[13], as raising the spectre of a “new May 68”, the better to distort the real lessons of May. But the 2006 movement did, in a sense, revive the genuine spirit of 68: on the one hand, because its protagonists rediscovered forms of struggle that had appeared at that time, notably general assemblies where real discussions could take place and where the young participants were eager to hear the testimony of older comrades who had taken part in the events of 68. But at the same time, this student movement, which had outflanked the trade unions, contained the real risk of drawing in the employed workers in a similarly “uncontrolled” way, precisely as in May 1968, and this is why the government withdrew the CPE legislation which had provoked the revolt in the first place.
Also in May 2006, 23000 metal workers in Vigo, in the Galician province of Spain, came out on strike against new labour rules in this sector, and instead of remaining shut up in the factories went to look for solidarity from other enterprises, in particular the shipyards and Citroën factories, organising demonstrations in the town to rally the whole population, and above all creating daily public general assemblies completely open to other workers, employed, unemployed and pensioners. These proletarian assemblies were the lungs of an exemplary struggle for a week, until the movement was caught between violent repression on the one hand and the negotiating manoeuvres of the unions and bosses.
In 2011, we saw the wave of social revolts in the Middle East and Greece, culminating in the Indignados movement in Spain and “Occupy” in the USA. The proletarian element in these movements varied from country to country, but it was at its strongest in Spain, where we saw in the widespread adoption of the assembly form; a powerful internationalist impulse which welcomed expressions of solidarity by participants from all round the world and where the slogan of “world revolution” was taken seriously, perhaps for the first time since the 1917 revolutionary wave; a recognition that “the system is obsolete” and a strong will to discuss the possibility of a new form of social organisation. In the many animated discussions that took place in the assemblies and commissions about questions of morality, science and culture, in the ubiquitous questioning of the dogma that capitalist relations are eternal - here again we saw the real spirit of May 68 taking shape.
Of course, most of these movements had many weaknesses, which we have analysed elsewhere[14] , not least a tendency for the participants to see themselves as “citizens” rather than proletarians, and thus a real vulnerability to democratic ideology, which would enable bourgeois parties like Syriza in Greece and Podemos in Spain to present themselves as the true heirs of these revolts. And in some ways, as with any proletarian defeat, the higher you climb, the further you fall: the reflux of these movements further deepened the general retreat in class consciousness. In Egypt, where the movement of the squares inspired the movement in Spain and Greece, illusions in democracy have prepared the way to the restoration of the same kind of authoritarian rule which was the initial catalyst of the “Arab spring”; in Israel, where mass demonstrations once raised the internationalist slogan “Netanyahu, Mubarak, Assad, same enemy”, the brutal militarist policies of Netanyahu’s government have now regained the upper hand. And most serious of all, in Spain, many of the young people who took part in the Indignados movement have been dragged towards the absolute dead-ends of Catalan or Spanish nationalism.
The appearance of this new proletarian generation in the movements of 2006 and 2011 also gave rise to a new search for communist politics among a minority, but the hopes that this would give rise to a whole new influx of revolutionary forces have not, for the present at least, been realised. The communist left remains largely isolated and disunited; among the anarchists, where some interesting new developments began to take place, the search for class positions is being undermined by the influence of identity politics and even nationalism. In a third article in this series, we will look in more detail at the evolution of the proletarian political camp and its environs since 1968.
But if May 1968 teaches us anything, it shows that the working class can arise again from the worst of defeats, return from the deepest of retreats. The moments of proletarian revolt which have taken place despite the advancing threat of capitalist decomposition reveal the possibility that new movements will arise which, by regaining the perspective of revolution, can forestall the multiple dangers that decomposition poses for the future of the species.
These dangers – the spread of military chaos, of ecological catastrophe, of starvation and disease on an unprecedented scale – prove that revolution is more than ever a necessity for the human race. Capitalism’s decline and decomposition certainly magnify the threat that the objective basis of a new society will be definitively destroyed if decomposition advances beyond a certain point. But even in its last phase, capitalism still produces the forces that can be used to overthrow it – in the words of the Communist manifesto of 1848, “what the bourgeoisie produces, above all, is its own gravediggers”. Capitalism, its means of production and communication are more global than ever – but then so is the proletariat more international, more capable of communicating with itself on a world wide scale. Capitalism has become increasingly advanced technologically – but then it must educate the proletariat in the use of its science and technology which can be taken in hand ina future society for human needs rather than for profit. This more educated, internationally minded layer of the class made its appearance again and again in recent social movement, above all in the central countries of the system, and will certainly play a key role in any future resurgence of the class struggle, as will the new proletarian armies created by capitalism’s dizzying but diseased growth in Asia and other previously “underdeveloped” regions. We have not seen the last of the spirit of May 68.
Amos, June 2018
[1] See for example World Revolution 315, “ICC meeting at ‘1968 and all that’: the perspective opened 40 years ago has not gone away [71]”.
[2] “Fifty years ago. May 68, part 1: Sinking into the economic crisis [12]”, International Review 160.
[3] International Review 53, second quarter 1988. The article is signed RV, one of the young ‘Venezuelans’ who helped to form RI in 1968.
[4] See in particular “Confusion of communist groups over the present period: Underestimating the class struggle [72]” in IR 54, third quarter 1988.
[5] See in particular "The 1950s and 60s: Damen, Bordiga, and the passion for communism [73]", International Review 158.
[6] For a more developed balance sheet of the struggles of the last few decades, which takes into account tendencies in our analysis to overestimate the immediate potential of the class struggle, see ” Report on the Class struggle [74]” from the 21st ICC Congress, IR 156, Winter 2016.
[7] See “Theses on the economic and political crisis in the eastern countries [75]”, IR 60, first quarter 1990.
[8] See in particular “Orientation text: Militarism and decomposition [19]”, IR 64, first quarter 1991.
[9] “Theses on the economic and political crisis in the eastern countries”
[10] See point 15 in “22nd ICC Congress: resolution on the international class struggle [76]”, IR 159.
[11] See points 16 and 17 of the above resolution
[13] See "France: rail rolling strikes and go-slows - Union manoeuvres are aimed at dividing us! [77]"
[14] See “The Indignados in Spain, Greece and Israel [78]: From indignation to the preparation of class struggles”, IR 147, first quarter 2011
Since its origins, the workers’ movement has seen itself as international and internationalist.”Workers have no country”; “workers of the world, unite!”. These are the two key ideas of the Communist Manifesto of 1848. The proletariat is an international class whose historic task of overthrowing capitalism and establishing new relations of production can only be conceived on an international scale. Because of this, even if the different struggles against capitalist exploitation don’t immediately take on this dimension, they still need to be seen as part of an international, historical movement. In particular, it’s up to the proletariat of all countries, and especially its vanguard, the revolutionary organisations, to draw all the lessons from the previous experience of the workers’ movement and its organisations. It's by basing ourselves on this approach that we have analysed, in our press, the experiences of struggles of the class in different parts of the world, and we think that it's important to make known those which have taken place in Argentina. They have produced an organisation, the FORA, which makes up a reference point for anarcho-syndicalism. In this sense, this article, which will itself be made up of several chapters, is part of our series in the International Review dedicated to revolutionary syndicalism[i]. This article has a particular interest since the FORA today constitutes a reference for anarcho-syndicalists who are embarrassed by the participation of the CNT in the government of the bourgeois republic during the war in Spain and want to remain faithful to internationalism.
In this first part, we are examining the historic context for the development of the thought and mobilisations of the Argentine workers, and which allowed for the constitution of the FORA.
Whereas in Europe during the nineteenth century capitalism imposed and strengthened itself, most of the countries of Latin America saw their struggles for national independence in the first decades of that century. By the last third of the 1900s, capitalist relations of production became dominant on the continent. In the case of Argentina one of the decisive points of capitalism's advance lay in the consolidation of agriculture and capitalist stock-farming at the same time as the country integrated itself into the international market and the process of industrialisation. It's for that reason that the measures taken from the 1880's on would be decisive for the dynamic of the development of the South American economy and of the working class. More particularly, the period between 1880 and 1914 is a defining moment for Argentina and its territory, clarifying the marking out of its frontiers, but also for the subordination of the old forms of social and economic organisation. This project resulted in the "Conquest of the Desert".
The "Conquest of the Desert" is the name given to a military campaign undertaken between 1878 and 1885 by the Argentine government against the surviving Indian communities of the extreme south of the region (especially against the Mapuches and the Tehuelches). This campaign of destruction and pillage was part of the process of the construction of the Argentine nation state and the route through which capitalist expansion would take place. Hundreds of Indians were shot and more taken prisoner, subjected to deportation to isolated and wild zones of the country or taken into servitude by the privileged families of Buenos Aires. The notes of newspapers at the time exposed the "successes" of the progress of civilisation:
This project was a continuation of the policy carried out by the liberal sectors of the bourgeoisie of the mid-19th century who coveted the arrival of the "modern capitalist". The lawyer, Juan Bautista Alberdi, promoter of the constitution, defined the project as starting from the principle that "to govern is to populate". The reality of this policy is more explicit in his book Elementos de derecho publico provincial argentino (Elements of Public Provincial Law in Argentina, 1853):
Thus the combination of great concentrations of agricultural land, the birth of agro-industry, the attraction of foreign investment and diversified production led to the depopulation and tragedy of the Indian communities and also the massive arrival of immigrant workers, mainly from Italy, Spain and in lesser numbers from France and Germany.
But these "foreigners" who had migrated to flee misery and hunger (and in certain cases, also repression) brought with them not only their physical and creative capacities which allowed them to sell their labour power, but also the experiences of their lives as exploited workers and the lessons of their past combats (along with political weaknesses), which they found again in the social milieu of these "new territories" into which they were integrated, thus allowing proletarian reflection to become an international process.
It's not surprising then that the migrant workers transmitted to Argentina considerable energy to the proletarian combat through the three last decades of the 19th century; for example, the German Ave Lallemant[iii] and Augustus Kuhn of German origins, formed the first small socialist grouping, "Verein Vorwarts" (the Forward Association), linked to German social-democracy, which acquired an eminent importance in workers' struggles; similarly, for the Italians, Pietro Gori and Errico Malatesta and, later, the Spaniard Diego Abad de Santillan, would be the animators of anarchist workers’ organisations. The tradition of struggle among these immigrant workers is reflected in their publishing work. The diversity of the papers appearing and distributed hand to hand, in the context of the numerical growth of the working class, turned out to be important elements for reflection, for the development of ideas and the politicisation of the young working class of the country.
However, it should be pointed out that this phenomenon did not confirm the mystified vision of the Argentinean bourgeoisie, which presented the workers' struggles as events imported by "foreigners". There was undoubtedly an experience transmitted by the migrant workers, but this arose and coalesced in the heat of combats which were not the mere product of will or created artificially. It is the economic and social reality that capitalism engenders (that's to say misery, hunger, repression...) which the workers respond to and which makes it possible to go beyond the divisions of nationality.
In the three last decades of the 19th century, Argentina was presented as a country where anything was possible, but very quickly this promise showed its real face. The workers' publications of this period detail the living conditions of the workers, where unemployment is frequent, the working-day exhausting and the wages are miserable. For example, in the hat factories of Franchini and Dellacha of Buenos Aires:
These living conditions continually repeated themselves throughout manufacture and agricultural exploitation, but in addition, a great number of employers practiced the "Truck System" for payment of work. In this wages are paid as vouchers for goods often produced by the enterprise but sold at a high price by the boss; the worker is thus stuck in continual dependence on the boss.
In the towns the masses of workers, talking different languages, came together in insalubrious quarters, made up of precarious lodgings known as "conventillos"[v], where poverty consumed the lives of their inhabitants whatever their national difference.
To imagine that the history of Argentinean workers is only the product of "bad" migrants denies the fact that capitalism creates its own gravediggers and that it pushes workers to make their own response to it. Miserable conditions encourage and accelerate workers' organisation and mobilisation, and the migrant workers integrate themselves into this reality. The anarchist Abad de Santillan rejected, correctly, the conspiratorial explanation of the bourgeoisie: "The defence of victims was something so logical that, even without social inspiration of any type, these workers' associations would appear as a biological wall against the bosses’ greed"[vi]. In his analysis there is a very precise following of the development of conditions which drive workers' resistance; however, he loses sight of the work of agitation and propaganda in which the migrant workers actively participated. And from this fact the international character of the proletariat is also lost.
Explaining the story through the existence of a " scapegoat, guilty for all the evils of society, the government and bosses’ groups unleashed the persecution of foreigners. A particular illustration of these attacks is the 1902 proclamation of the "Law of Residence". This law, also called the "Cane Law", allowed deportations without previous convictions of foreigners accused of seditious activities, thus dressing up a campaign of persecution in a legal and respectable garb linked to the law and to democratic principles. In 1910, this law was extended through the "Law of Social Defence" which allowed the admission of foreigners to be restricted if they were suspected of being a threat to public order. In order to understand the mobilisation of the workers in Argentina it is important to take into account that capitalism is a system which is underwritten by profound contradictions which engender its economic crises. In the nineteenth century the bourgeoisie had shown an ability to increase its power, even though this was not achieved without difficulties. But as the century came to an end the contradictions of the capitalist economy were manifesting themselves more sharply. Although its epicentre had been situated in Britain, the recession of 1890, known as the "Baring Crisis"[vii], spread to central Europe and the United States, but also to Argentina given that this country constituted an important destination for the export of British capital; moreover this period was marked by a significant level of trade between the two countries.
Faced with capitalism's tendency towards recession, the response of the bourgeoisie, concerned to defend its profits, consisted of strengthening the means of exploitation of the producers of social wealth the workers. It's in this context that strikes and demonstrations appeared at the beginning of the twentieth century, along with the necessity for the workers to build their unitary organisations of struggle.
If the process of the development of capitalism stimulated the fighting spirit of workers and awoke their efforts at reflection, that doesn't at all mean that the exploited all shared the same vision of reality; neither did they have the same class consciousness and the same capacities for organisation. The proletariat, as a class, builds itself up in its combat and through the self-criticism of its actions. In Argentina at the end of the 19th century, it was still marked by political and ideological traits belonging to the decomposition of the artisanal and peasant economy. Even if the mass of migrant proletarians constituted a certain form of inspiration for it, they didn’t always transmit their experience through the clearest arguments. That's the reason why the discussion and practices of the Argentine workers, at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth centuries, was illustrated by a range of confused visions. Despite all this, they synthesised the intellectual effort and militant spirit of the exploited.
With the diversification of manufacturing production in the towns and the creation of specialised corporations, the workers began to establish social relations among themselves at the level of the workplace. This coming together stimulated the creation of societies of resistance, that's to say corporate groups for the defence of the most immediate living conditions. From this, between 1880 and 1901, there appeared the organisation of workers by job: bakers, drivers, cigar makers... but also the emergence of minorities who wanted to form socialist and anarchist groups which would, in time, become a factor in the animation of unitary organisations of struggle.
While the foundation of French, Italian and Spanish sections of the First International in Argentina went back to 1872, it was during the last two decades of the 19th century that more workers’ organisations and papers were created. As an expression of this dynamic we can note the 1890 edition of the socialist paper The Worker animated by the German Ave Lallemant. While this tendency was being pushed forward by workers' mobilisations, other publications such as La Vanguardia (led by the doctor Juan B Justo) appeared in 1894; other groups then formed who took up an important place among the workers such as the Centro Socialista Obrero (The Socialist Workers' Centre) and Il Fascio dei Lavoratori (Workers' Sheaf, a group attached to the Socialist Party of Italy). These groups joined up with the Equals, an ephemeral group formed by workers of French origin, to publish in 1894 the programme of the Partido Socialista Obrero Internacional (International Socialist Workers' Party - PSOI). This proletarian expression in Argentina changed its name the following year, becoming the Partido Socialista Obrero Argentino (Argentine Socialist Workers' Party - PSOA) to then become in 1896 the Partido Socialista Argentino (Argentine Socialist Party - PS), with Juan B Justo remaining at its head.
The PS attached itself to the Second International and called itself internationalist. Despite the weight of reformism in this International, this nevertheless enabled workers to make advances in the process of reflection and struggle. Given that the PS was formed from diverse groups it was politically heterogeneous. In fact the group led by Juan B Justo was in the majority but it was also the most confused since it was he who gave the most importance to the positions of the liberal bourgeoisie, which contributed at decisive moments to a lack of clarity in the party’s intervention[viii] . This lack of clarity and the sliding towards positions foreign to the proletariat provoked reactions inside the party, as demonstrated for example by the creation, in 1918, of a "critical wing" which formed the Partido Socialista Internacional Argentino (PSIA)[ix], and also by reactions within the union sections.
The programme for labour reform and the support given to liberal projects (for example, separation of church and state) that the PS advocated at the end of the nineteenth century, was a backward step in relation to the reality of the world, since the moment was approaching where the task of the proletariat was the overthrow of capitalism and not support for a system which had been progressive in relation to the irrational layers of society such as the church. But the calls for self-organisation and struggle for better living conditions allowed the workers to become conscious of the force that they represented and to obtain some immediate even if non-durable reforms. But the strategy of conciliation advocated by the SP, similar to its rejection of the basics of Marxism which came close to the arguments of Bernstein, distanced the party further and further from the proletarian camp; and this would become a political weapon cleverly used by the Argentinean state. For example, at the beginning of 19th century, the PS maintained a sort of proletarian life within itself but its unbridled support for parliamentarism helped to distance it from the workers' struggles. This led to compromises, such as when it avoided the mobilisation of workers in exchange for the promulgation of the National Labour Law (known as the "(Joaquim) Gonzalez Plan") in 1905.
In the last years of the 19th century, the libertarian milieu began to take on some importance. Some figures of anarchism fleeing from the repression of European governments arrived in Argentina: Malatesta (in 1885) and Pietro Gori (in 1891), stimulating workers' organisations and publishing work. But the anarchist camp wasn't homogeneous. To sum up we can divide them into two groups: the anarchists favourable to organisation, and anarchists hostile to organisation.
The publications of the first group had a limited distribution such as L'Avenir, El Obrero Panadero (The Bakery Worker). A journal of the same political lines with a much larger distribution should be also noted: La Protesta Humana (Human Protest) with the main writer one Antionio Pellicer Paraire (Pellico). On the side of the "anti-organisationists", the main publications were El Rebelde (The Rebel) and Germinal[x]. This division was accentuated with the convocation of the International Anarchist Congress of September 1900 in Paris. This Congress was the occasion for an important discussion between the anarchist groups, and although it was closed by the police before the end, some secret meetings were held which recommended the creation of union federations. The "favourable to organisation" thesis was expressed more clearly still in an intervention of Malatesta to the International Anarchist Congress in Amsterdam of 1907: "It is necessary that anarchists enter into workers' unions. First of all in order to make anarchist propaganda; second because it is the only means for us to have at our disposal on the long-awaited day groups capable of taking in hand the direction of production"[xi]. This orientation was based upon the idea that "syndicalism is not and never will be only a legalistic and conservative movement without any other accessible aim than the amelioration of working conditions".[xii]
Since the discussions preparing for the Paris Congress in 1900, a clear separation was created in Argentina between those who considered workers’ organisations as vital and those who on the contrary judged them to be useless and pernicious. Thus, extracts from El Rebelde (August 14, 1899) reveal the idea that when there is self-organisation and centralisation, individuals lose the capacity for initiative, revolutionary forces are exhausted and the reaction triumphs. The majority camp in Argentina was the one that defined itself in favour of organisation, of increasing its work in the unions and to push for the creation of federations, converging in this position with the socialist groups.
The militant anarchist Diego Abad de Santillan considered that the debate between the "pro" and "anti" organisationists was settled by the arguments exposed in the twelve articles published in 1900 in "Human Protest" under the title "Workers' organisation" and signed Pellico. At the centre of his ideas was the necessity of organisation at two levels: economic and revolutionary. Pellico wrote of: "a branch of workers' organisation that one can qualify as revolutionary, which is made up of those who are fully convinced that they are working directly for the triumph of an ideal. And the other branch that one can qualify as economist, made up of worker masses who are struggling in order to better their conditions of life and counter the abuse of the bosses..."[xiii]. According to Diego Abad de Santillan, the passage quoted of Pellico is based on the strategy of "the International Brotherhood of Bakunin (placing itself) within and alongside the International Workers' Association..."
Antonio Pellicer himself explained that the federation is the type of organisation that the workers need, attributing to it the role of the "germ of the commune of the revolutionary future". He thus proposed "that local federations organise themselves in the sense of the revolutionary commune, of the permanent and active action of the working people in all domains which challenge their liberty and existence..."[xiv].
Following this description we can understand that the union federation is seen as the organ charged with the defence of the living conditions of the workers; and, at the same time, under the influence of conspiratorial groups which work "in parallel", it is oriented towards open combat against the system.
In fact the workers' movement as a whole is confronted with the need for a political organisation distinct from the organisations for the defence of its immediate interests, responsible for defending its programme and its political project of the emancipation of the proletariat and the establishment of a classless society[xv] . For marxism, this first of all took the form of mass political parties in the Second International, then after their betrayal, much more selective political parties around a political programme for the revolution. But this problematic wasn't foreign to anarchism, as certain terms of the debate between "pro" and "anti" organisationists revealed. The problem is that the well-identified necessity for a revolutionary organisation is completely derailed by Diego Abad de Santillan by identifying it with the conspiratorial action of a Bakunin (which included the conspiracy against the General Council of the IWA).
On reflection, we can note of course that while some "pro-organisation" anarchists opposed the vision of the "anti-organisationists", it wasn't through a profound critique given that, after having tried to criticise them, they went back to the roots of the Bakuninist schema of conspiracy, which is unfit for a real struggle against capitalism. Moreover they repeated the old idea of the separation of the economic and political combat by embellishing the idealist conception of the possibility of beginning to build the new society from the germs that existed in the very entrails of capitalism. Thus, although criticising the socialists for focussing on reforms as the means for creating an alternative to capitalism, they naively put their confidence in the effort to create "federated communes" as the prefiguration of the future society, and this without the system itself being destroyed.
In 1890, at the height of the struggle between factions of the bourgeoisie (marked by an economic crisis which provoked a coup d'état, ending with the renunciation of the presidency by Juarez Celman), the group Vorwärts and the corporations of shoemakers and carpenters (in which the anarchist groups actively participated) set up la Federacion de Trabajadores de la República Argentina (Workers' Federation of the Argentine Republic, FTRA). The federation demanded the 8-hour day. Although its capacity for intervention was relatively limited and had existed for hardly two years, it favoured the unity of the workers and the definition of a programme of demands. The FTRA captured the attention of the workers but was rather confused. While the socialists of Vorwärts saw it as a permanent force to gain concessions and reforms, the anarchists saw in the unions the instrument par excellence of the anti-capitalist struggle. The two positions were expressed at the second congress (1892) in a very confused form where the socialist groups thought that the federation should be the spearhead of the struggle for the nationalisation of the industry. Faced with this the anarchists abandoned the FTRA. There followed a numerical weakening aggravated by the fact that the increase in unemployment provoked the departure of many from the country and the federation ended up by dissolving itself.
Even if this federation had a brief existence, it allowed the identification of difficulties which would emerge in the discussions in the following years. On one side, the socialists amplified the temporary economic gains obtained by the union struggle and gave a privileged place to dialogue with parliament. On the other side, the anarchists were convinced of the possibility of revolution at any time of history as a product of the will and expressed in "direct action".
In order to criticise the point of view of Argentine social democracy, we want to recall the analysis made by Rosa Luxemburg in 1899 in the introduction to Social Reform or Revolution:"Between social reform and revolution there exists, for social-democracy, an indissoluble link. The struggle for reforms is the means, whereas the social revolution is the aim". We can note that the confusion that was already present in German social democracy and criticised by Rosa Luxemburg is repeated in Argentina where the socialists let themselves get caught up in the "means" (which Rosa Luxemburg talked about) while underestimating the "aim", finally forgetting it altogether. As for anarchism, in general it turned out to be incapable of analysing the class struggle in a dynamic fashion, not seeing the different phases of the life of capitalism and thus incapable of taking into account the changes from one to the other concerning the tasks posed to the exploited class: that's to say no longer the struggle for now impossible reforms but the fight against the deterioration of its living conditions, with a view to overthrowing capitalism and the revolutionary transformation of society. Further, by denying the necessity for the party, anarchism overestimated the role of the unions.
In this state of confusion and with the aggravation of attacks against the living conditions of the working class, the idea grew of creating federated unions. The year 1899 was particularly marked by an increase in strikes and by a questioning of their role and that of the unions. These issues were at the centre of the problems discussed by the workers.
Juan B Justo posed the problem in the following terms: “What is the final outcome of the strike? The socialists consider it as a first step (and a primary step) for the formulation of immediate demands and their possible satisfaction, the anarchists as the method for the transformation of the social regime...”[xvi] The discussion cut across the unions and the socialist and anarchist groups without being deepened. However it did allow the “pro-organisation” anarchists to recognise the necessity for the working class to struggle for the amelioration of its living conditions and thus to ally with the Socialist Party for the creation of a union federation. Thus in May 1901, 27 unions of different corporations gave birth to the Federacion Obrera Argentina (Workers’ Federation of Argentina, FOA). It was composed of both socialist and anarchist delegates, although the latter had the stronger presence, including Pietro Gori from the Rosario rail workers.
The founding congress unfolded over eight sessions, the second being opened by a declaration of Torrens Ros of the anarchist tendency in which he petitioned the congress “not to make any sort of compromise with the Socialist Party, nor with the anarchists...”[xvii], declaring it independent and autonomous, which doesn’t mean to say that the opinions defended by the two camps were excluded from the debates. After the congress some of the problems raised there were posed anew. Outside of the divergences, the discussion allowed the establishment of a general schema of agreements and basic demands:
But there were other issues that fed the conflicts after the congress. One of its decisions was the transformation of the paper La Organizacion (edited by a dozen unionists strongly influenced by the PS) into La Organizacion Obrera (considered as the organ of the FOA) but two months after the constitution of the FOA, the unionists who edited La Organizacion refused to stop its publication and rejected its transformation.
One of the thorniest discussions concerned the recourse to arbitration; that is, of a mediator to settle labour conflicts. The intervention of P. Gori in the founding congress was important because it deepened the polemic, considering that the FOA should work for “the integral conquest of the rights of the workers by the workers, (but) they reserve the right, in some cases, to resolve the economic conflicts between capital and labour by the means of juridical arbitration which could only be effective through persons presenting serious guarantees of the defence of workers’ interests”[xviii].
Complementing this position was a definition of the role of the general strike, regarding which he said: “it must be the supreme base of the economic struggle between capital and labour, it affirms the necessity of propagating among the workers the idea of a general work stoppage; that’s the challenge to the reigning bourgeoisie...”[xix]
It was above all the question of “arbitration” that was the cause of the conflict within the ranks of anarchism. The “anti-organisation” anarchist tendency, most particularly the paper The Rebel, generally criticised those anarchists who moved closer to the PS in order to found the FOA, but more precisely they accused Gori of legalism in “defending and supporting arbitration”. The disagreements which emerged on the basis of the problems described didn’t immediately mean the break-up of the federation, although they illustrated the difficulties which confronted the working class at that time.
The significance and use of the strike as envisaged by the congress provoked sharp tensions between anarchists and socialists in the upsurge of the strikes which paralysed the main towns in the two months following the foundation of the FOA.
In Argentina, the first year of the 20th century was marked by workers’ demonstrations. The formation of the FOA expressed the search for unity and solidarity among the workers, but the explosion of strikes and demonstrations also confirmed the atmosphere of combativity and the rejection of a life of misery imposed by capitalism. The long working days, the lowering of wages and despotic treatment by the bosses contributed to diverse industries being hit by the strikes. In August of 1901, the rail workers of Buenos Aires blocked economic activity. A significant number of workers pushed for the opening of negotiations, obtaining a temporary satisfaction of their demands. Negotiations with the bosses were led by P. Gori, which allowed him to show to his critics that he was not legalistic, at the same time as demonstrating the form through which arbitration could be used.
Based on similar demands, in October of the same year workers’ discontent arose in the sugar refining industry at Rosario. While the threats of unemployment from the bosses reduced the initial protests to silence, they only strengthened the courage and militancy of the workers, as shown in the growth of demonstrations in the streets, in which the socialist and anarchist militants of the FOA were foremost. The strength of the demonstrations affected the negotiations with the capitalists; the chief of police was presented as the mediator. In an assembly the workers elected a committee of struggle and a delegation for negotiations, which included the anarchist Romuldo Ovidi.
When the delegation came to the meeting, the police arrested Ovidi, which further aroused discontent. In responding to the initiative of the workers to free their comrades, the police attacked with sabres and then with bullets, killing the worker (of anarchist origins) Cosma Budeslavich. After this the workers of Rosario declared a one-day general strike.
1902 began the same way that 1901 ended, with strikes for the reduction of the working day, better wages and better working conditions. Although the stevedores and the port workers of Rosario and Buenos Aries were the most active during the course of the year, workers in other sectors also mobilised on a wide scale, as illustrated by the strikes of bakers in July and the workers of the central fruit market in October, raising great expressions of solidarity and ferociously fought by the ruling class, first of all by using scabs and strike-breakers and then with hordes of police who confronted the workers in the streets, resulting in a number of them being wounded or arrested.
For the bourgeoisie, these social conflicts were fomented by a group of immigrants[xxi]. Thus the promulgation of the “Law of Residence” allowed it to justify the expulsion of migrants deemed to be ‘dangerous’. Faced with this measure the FOA called a general strike which paralysed the factories and the ports from November 22. The government of Julio Roca responded with a declaration of martial law on November 26 (up to the first of January). A wave of repression was then unleashed, putting an end to the mobilisations. The atmosphere of agitation between 1901 and 1902 pushed the socialists and anarchists to analyse in more detail the way in which the working class should struggle. From this, the anarchist papers (both those in favour of organisation and those against) considered the moment opportune to insist, in their appeals for the general strike, on the idea that this was the most important form of combat. For its part, the PS adopted a critical tone towards the radicalisation of the demonstrations on the streets and the strikes. This same tone was employed in the circular published in 1902 in the journal La Pensa which said that the PS “deplores recent events in Rosario (the confrontation of workers and police in the stevedores’ strike on January 13) and declined all responsibility for the movement”[xxii].
The second congress of the FOA (April 1903), was, in a certain way, the expression of these disagreements, since they created a schism which saw the departure of the unions under the influence of the PS.
In fact, the split was not the result of disagreements on the different conceptions because, in reality, there was no discussion on the subject. The motive for the separation was a disagreement which came up on the application of the statutes concerning the nomination of delegates to the congress.
From the beginning of the congress there was a problem regarding this subject. Alfredo J. Torcell (journalist and well-known PS militant) was not allowed to present himself as a delegate of the bakers’ corporation of La Plata because he didn’t do the job and was not involved with this local. This led to tension and the delegates of a socialist orientation quit the room. Some 48 union groups were affiliated to the FOA and nineteen withdrew, thus leaving an absolute majority to the anarchist unions. However, the demands on which the FOA was founded didn’t fundamentally alter.
The second congress adopted or deepened some general demands posed from the first congress (for example, the 8-hour day, provision of care services...). But it was in the changed attitude that the FOA adopted with regard to the PS that we find the basis of the disagreement at the second congress. This wasn’t identified and still less taken up through a political confrontation between the anarchist and socialist conceptions. The congress firmly rejected the invitation of the PS to conjointly participate in the First of May demonstration. There was also a rectification regarding arbitration. Abad de Santillan synthesised the argument: “The congress declares for a greater autonomy to the federated societies for recourse or not to arbitration as they judge opportune". This fracture allowed the anarchist groups who criticised the formation of the FOA for its rapprochement with the socialists, as was the case with The Rebel among others, to integrate into the federation. But, without doubt, what most clearly showed the distancing between the FOA (with its anarchist majority) and the PS, were the interventions they made in the strikes of 1902; and this distance lengthened and deepened following the raising of the state of emergency.
After the state of emergency and during the year 1903, persecutions and arrests continued. Despite that demonstrations started again and there was an upsurge in polemics, as much among the socialists as the anarchists, around the form the struggle should take.
In its press and at its congress, the PS never ceased to criticise the way in which the strike was developing. In particular it criticised the fact that it didn’t have a resistance fund but, above all, it maintained that it was a disproportionate action which would block any eventual negotiations.
Based on this analysis, the PS participated in the creation of the Union General de Trabajadores (General Workers’ Union – UGT)[xxiii] and even if, at its founding congress (March, 1903), the UGT refused to establish an electoral alliance with the PS, it promised to undertake political actions in order to promote laws in the workers’ favour. At the same time it nuanced the PS’s conception of the general strike by recognising in the latter an efficient means when properly organised. But it underlined its rejection of the use of violence and insurrectional aims. This showed that although the UGT was directly promoted by the PS, the latter didn’t get absolute agreement from its members.
The anarchists affirmed their position around the general strike while accusing the socialists of being cowards and traitors, including in La Protesta Humana (January 31 1903), underlining that, since the raising of the state of emergency “... the workers confirming their affiliation to the circles of the Socialist Party, although they are leaders, although they have incited the strike or like us advised the corporatist organisations, are being set free after making an apology for their actions...”[xxiv]. In this sense, the FOA, with a majority of anarchists at the time of its third congress, came to a total disagreement concerning dialogue with the state and decided that the general strike was the ideal means of raising consciousness in the struggle.
Workers’ actions didn’t stop throughout 1903 and December signalled a massive protest of workers from different sectors, in particular the tram conductors’ strike. Their demands were very clear: the 8-hour day and an increase in wages. They also expressed solidarity with comrades dismissed for having handed out union leaflets, calling for them to be re-hired and the union recognised. The response of the bourgeoisie was to resort to strike-breakers and the police. In this context the FOA convoked a massive meeting on December 22 which ended in brutal repression by the police.
This scenario was repeated in 1904 and, on various occasions, the demands and the response of the state were very similar. The bourgeoisie took heed of the development of workers’ discontent and for that reason combined open repression with the opening of parliament to the PS. Thus, Alfedo Palacious assumed the responsibility of deputy. Further, he made use of nationalist ideology, privileging the hiring of Argentinean workers which favoured a hostile atmosphere towards “noxious migrants”. But the government also asked for a study to be made on the situation of the workers by the doctor Juan Bialet Masse. It’s probable that the doctor acted with honesty in trying to describe reality. On the other hand, it is certain that the ruling class used the results to its profit.
The report began by underlining a claim by the “Creole” (Argentine) workers, accentuating an anti-immigrant campaign. Echoing what Bialet had written, it said that “... the Creole worker, despised and treated as incapable, sees himself as a Pariah in his country, working harder and doing more work than anyone else, he cannot earn enough to make ends meet (...) despite his superior intelligence, his sobriety and adaption to his surroundings...”
Then, it criticised the conservative ideology of the bosses which generated social tensions: “The obsession of the bosses becomes obstinacy (...) a shoe manufacturer maintained the ten-and-a-half hour day because he saw it in a large German factory…he did not want it (the 8-hour day) and now it was necessary to bring it about by the force of a strike which is imposed on him, through a sterile and damaging struggle as much for the worker as for himself..”.[xxv]
The recognition of the living conditions of workers by the state in the report of Bialet (presented in April, 1904) did not eliminate repression despite the decision to enact an employment law (approved August 31, 1905). The actions of the police on Mayday 1904, on the Piazza Mazzini in Buenos Aires showed this:
Searches, deportations, detentions, repression in general and the terrible conditions in the factories did not diminish workers’ fighting spirit. Unions and federations continued to adhere to the FOA which, as it developed, radicalised its speeches. This tendency was seen at the Fourth Congress which took place between July and August 1904 and distinguished itself with the change of name from FOA to Federacion Obrera Regional Argentina (Regional Workers’ Federation of Argentina – FORA).
The change of name corresponded to the structure adopted by the organisation: on the one hand, it set up professional associations; on the other, all the professional associations of the same territory formed a local federation, with all of the local federations in a province forming a region. The heart of this arrangement was the existence of a dual organisational structure in which each part had a different role; the professional associations had the task of obtaining reforms on the economic level while the local federations, having brought together different industries and linked the territories, displayed objectives which went beyond the economic and corporate level by envisaging the emancipation of the proletariat. For that reason this structure was based on a “Solidarity Pact” aiming at a level of unity that would allow professional and corporate interests to be overcome, along with territorial limitations. The process consisted first of all of strengthening the organisation at the national level in order to then create “the great confederation of all the Earth’s producers”.
But a part of the congress was also dedicated to the “law of residence” and naturally the proposed employment law.
The congress pronounced against the two laws by raising the necessity for a general strike in order to oppose the policy of deportation. On the employment law, the rejection came from a justified mistrust, since the Minister of the Interior, Joaquin V. Gonzalez, warned that the proposed law was “to avoid agitations of which the Republic has been the theatre for some years and most particularly since 1902...”[xxvii]. The congress saw in the plan an attempt to corral the workers behind the juridical orientations of the state.
The FORA rejected this plan: “it only favours the capitalists because they can evade their own responsibilities and the workers would have to faithfully assume them”; by contrast the PS was the motor of the employment law, above all since it had included (March 1904) a deputy, the lawyer Alfredo Lorenzo Palacios.
However, there were some sectors within the PS which, through the publication La Vanguardia, expressed their agreement with the criticisms made by the FORA on the labour law. The UGT itself drew an official line away from the PS and its deputy and promised a campaign to repudiate the law. The law finished up being withdrawn, not through the criticisms of the unions but because a regroupment of the bosses, the Industrial Union of Argentina (UIA), considered the law’s proposal to establish an 8-hour day, with a day off on Sunday, to be too extreme.
This didn’t stop the workers mobilising massively and again taking up the demand for the 8-hour day and increases in wages. At the same time, the government of Manuel Quintana prepared to oppose the protests against the designation of the chief of police as the arbitrator in labour conflicts.
Since September 1904, different sectors of workers had been mobilising to demand the eight-hour day but discontent took on a much greater breadth when a strike broke out among workers in enterprises in Rosario demanding a day of rest on Sunday. The police immediately responded with arrests of the union delegation. Faced with such attitudes the FORA and other unions not belonging to the Federation called a work stoppage for November 22 and 23. The demonstrations developed throughout the day, during which confrontations with the police continued, with workers injured and several murdered. Indignation increased and pushed towards unity between the FORA and the UGT and PS in the calling of a general strike in solidarity with the town of Rosario. On November 29, while order was being called into question in Rosario, and already in Buenos Aries, the meeting of the FORA prepared a general stoppage for December 1 and 2. The turmoil and concern of the state was such that it openly prepared the deployment of police and the military throughout the town and even installed cannons in the suburbs and anchored warships in the port. Despite this the strike continued and even spread to Cordoba, Mendoza and Santa Fe. The demonstrations which followed these days had fewer repercussions and some of them, like those of the rail workers, remained isolated. The situation became complicated and confusion grew from the failed revolt of February 4, 1905, led by the Radical Party and inspired by the ideas of Hipolito Yrigoyen, which tried to overthrow the government of Manuel Quintana.
The upheavals of February 4 1905 were called the “civil-military revolution”, although it was a fight between different sectors of the bourgeoisie over power, and it also had implications for the workers. Not only did the martial law imposed by the government of Manuel Quintana prevent any sort of massive demonstration by the workers, but it also made it possible to arbitrarily accuse the anarchist and socialist unions of participating in the uprising. In this framework of a confrontation between forces of the bourgeoisie and the petty-bourgeoisie, the government unleashed a new wave of persecutions which continued after martial law was ended. The deportation of union militants and anarchists from abroad continued but it was added to by the persecution of militants of Argentine nationality who were arrested and exiled to Uruguay. However, the increase in repression did not demobilise the workers.
In Argentina, as in a great part of Europe, the first decade of the 20th century was characterised by a great wave of struggles in which masses of workers participated. But this strengthening of workers’ militancy was also met by the repression of the ruling class.
The state of emergency that followed the Yrigoyen rebellion had hardly ended when, on March 24, the FORA called a demonstration in the centre of Buenos Aries which was repressed without any pretext. On another occasion, May 1909 at Rosario, the protests of the working masses were again put down, resulting in several deaths and dozens of wounded. There was not a single union local or workers’ publication that wasn’t attacked by the police.
But faced with the constant threat, demands for better conditions of work formulated by the transport workers of the town took on a greater importance given the militant atmosphere surrounding preparations for the demonstration of the First of May. The possibility of extending the struggle looked promising.
In trying to spread fear and contain the expansion of demonstrations, a Colonel Falcon ordered demonstrators to be fired on, resulting in a dozen deaths and many more wounded. In response, the mass strike again paralysed the town for eight hours, until some amelioration of conditions was accepted by the workers as well as the release of prisoners and the restitution of union locals taken over by the police. This event, in a certain way, favoured two other important developments although they are quite different:
In fact the two inter-related aspects had important political consequences:
1) The creation of the CORA led to a strengthening of a union tendency which promoted a move away from anarchist and socialist positions, affirming the principle of apoliticism (that's to say, non-electoralism). It defined itself as a current having the characteristics of revolutionary socialism, but these were rapidly lost. The CORA went on to increase its influence among the workers, gradually expanding and even advocating integration en masse into the FORA. It was through this tactic of infiltration that it could gain a political presence which it would use in 1915, during the 9th Congress of the Federation, in order to vote for the suppression of the reference to anarchism established at the Fifth Congress.
This led to the existence of two federations having the same name. The one oriented by the Ninth Congress, the other formed by a minority which decided not to recognise this congress and laid claim to the principles of the Fifth Congress, recovering its image as an anarchist union; that's why it called itself the FORA of the Vth Congress.
The two federations declared themselves in favour of the struggle for immediate demands while also calling for the emancipation of the working class. What differentiated them at the beginning was the question of the reference to anarchism, and from this flowed changes in the kind of struggle advocated. The FORA 9 went on to reject the mass strike as an arm of combat; the principle of solidarity grew increasingly distant from its practice and it considered that each union federation should act "as it saw fit". And although its members continued to reject participation in parliament, they looked for a rapprochement with the structures of the state in order to hold negotiations around social gains. The government of Hipolito Yrigoyen profited from this arrangement since, while continuing to order the massacre of workers, it tried to forge legal links with the "Niners".
The FORA of the 9th Congress developed numerically and, along with this growth, came closer to the state. Thus, it dissolved itself in 1922 to form the Union Sindical Argentina, which would serve as a base in 1930 for the foundation of the Confederacion General del Trabajo (General Confederation of Labour - CGT) which from the beginning would be influenced by the Socialist Party and later evolve into an instrument of Peronism.
2) The act of Simon Radowitzky also had political consequences. The anarchist Cano Ruiz explained that the assassination of the policeman Falcon "provoked the anger of the reaction. The state declared martial law for two months, the union locals were closed (...) hundreds arrested and numerous undesirables (for the authorities) were expelled". He even recognised that an important period of reflux had opened up; analysing things a little further on: "Since the act of Radowitzky (September 14, 1909) up to 1916, oppression was so harsh that the anarchist movement and by consequence the workers' movement incarnated by the FORA gave no sign of life"[xxviii]. It's essential to affirm, in looking back at the effects that this event provoked and as summed up by Cano Ruiz, that terrorism is foreign to the combat of the working class. Even if it can arouse sympathy (because it's seen as an act of justice), it expresses a weakness and even expresses the infiltration of petty-bourgeois ideology and of classes which hold no perspective, who live in despair and lack confidence in the actions of the working masses. Consequently, it is an individualist practice which, by hiding behind the facade of heroism, expresses a strong impatience, scepticism and demoralisation. Thus, as we have said on other occasions: “Their actions are more aimed at spectacular suicide than at any particular goal"[xxix].
We thus see growing difficulties in the expression and organisation of workers' militancy. On the one hand, there was a rapprochement between the FORA 9 and the structure of the state and, just as significantly, a loss of proletarian life in the PS, with the growth of parliamentary illusions and nationalist positions (it advocated the entry of Argentina into the Great War). But what confirmed the abandonment of the proletarian camp would be its condemnation of the Russian revolution. On the other hand, the repression had a demoralising effect and would temporarily remove all hope for the workers, a situation aggravated by the confusion provoked by an anarchist individualism that focused on the accomplishment of terrorist acts.
During this period of confusion and continuing attacks against the workers, only events of great breadth like the Russian revolution could aim to break the reflux and general demoralisation. Abad de Santillan synthesised it in this way: "There were moments in the period of agitation between 1918 to 1921 that really knocked on our door and made us feel joy at the supreme hour of all our demands. An international wave of enthusiastic solidarity touched the modern slaves (...) there rose a Russia bright with promises of liberty from the debris of Tsarism[xxx].
FORA V criticised the Bolsheviks but it didn't cease to recognise the historic importance of the revolution for the exploited. After having broken the reflux, the masses of workers could mobilise again for the defence of their living conditions, as they would do in massive fashion between 1919 and 1921.
In the second part we will look at the experience of the struggles undertaken by FORA V.
Rojo, March 2015.
[i] International Review no 118, ‘What is revolutionary syndicalism [79]’. This series contains articles on the CGT in France (IR 120), the CNT in Spain (IR 128,129, 130, 131, 132), the FAU in Germany (IR 137,141,147) and the IWW in the USA (IR 124 and 125)
[ii] La Nacion (The Nation), 21 January 1879, quoted by Raul Ernesto Comba in "20/20: 4 decados en la historia de Banderalo. 1800-1920" (20/20: 4 decades of the history of Banderalo), Edition Dunken, BA, 2012, p47. Translated by us.
[iii] Although G. A. Lallemant had dedicated an important activity to the organisation and spread of socialism in the latter decades of the nineteenth century, this person and with him a part of social democracy were close to the bourgeois liberal party called the "Radical Civic Union".
[iv] La Protesta Humana (Human Protest) 3 September 1899, quoted by Diego Abad de Santillan in La FORA: ideologia et trayectoria. Translated by us.
[v] There are many tangos that have their origins in these precarious dwellings. They often became flooded so you would have to fix benches by roping them to a wall. Thus one could sleep sitting against the wall. This form of rest was called, in the argot of the time, "maroma" (roping).
[vi] Abad de Santillan. Op. Cit.
[vii] From the name of the English bank which ran into severe difficulties after being exposed to heavy defaults of payments linked to the sovereign debt of Argentina and Uruguay.
[viii] Regarding the process of degeneration of the PS, it's necessary to recall that in 1919 Juan B Justo held a conference where he condemned the Russian revolution and the actions of the Bolsheviks in particular. In his text of 1925, "Internationalism and country", he criticised the communists (in particular Lenin and Rosa Luxemburg) for not having defended free-exchange, on the pretext that, if the war is effectively caused by the struggle for markets, as they affirmed, then it was necessary to eliminate this factor "by opening up all the markets to the free exchange of international capital".
[ix] In 1918 the PSIA was formed declaring itself in agreement with the Zimmerwald Conference and supporting the revolution.
[x] The historian Zaragoza Ruvira found other "individual" publications but their activity was diluted in the latter years of the 19th century, among them: El Perseguido (The persecuted, 1890-97), La Miseria (Misery, 1890), La liberte (1893-94), Lavoriamo (We workers, 1893 in the Italian language).
[xi] Quoted in our article of the International Review no 120: "Anarchism faced with a changing epoch: the CGT up to 1914".
[xii] Ibid.
[xiii] Human Protest, November 17, 1900.
[xiv] Quoted by Abad de Santillan.
[xv] Regarding this, read our article in International Review no 118, "What is revolutionary syndicalism?"
[xvi] Cited by Dardo Cuneo, Las dos corrientes del movemiento obrero en el 90 (The two currents of the workers’ movement in the 1890’s) in Claves de la historia argentina (Keys to the history of Argentina) 1968.
[xvii] Oved, Op. Cit., p165.
[xviii] Op. Cit., p68.
[xix] Bilsky Edgardo J. La FORA y el movimiento obrero, 1900-1910 (FORA and the workers’ movement, 1900-1910), Latin American Editions, Argentina, 1985, p. 194.
[xx] In the celebrated tango “Cambalache” (1934) you can find the following phrase which inspired the sub-title of the article: “Siglo XX Cambalache problematico y febril”, which we have translated as “The 20th century, a feverish and confused bazaar”.
[xxi] This attempt of the Argentine bourgeoisie to divide the workers shouldn’t surprise us.
Thus in the United States, the bourgeoisie cynically tried to exploit the differences between those born in the country, the Anglophone workers (even if they themselves were second generation immigrants) and the newly-arrived immigrant workers, who only spoke and read a little or no English. On this subject see our article “The IWW (1905-1921): the failure of revolutionary syndicalism in the United States [80] (I)” in International Review no 124.
Similarly in Brazil from the second half of the 19th century, a massive immigration of workers coming from Italy, Spain, Germany, etc., made up the necessary labour for a rising industry, notably modifying the make-up of the proletariat in this country. From 1905, revolutionary minorities among them, essentially composed of immigrants, began to get together. Police repression expelled the active militants. On this subject, see our article “1914-23, ten years which shook the world, the echoes of the 1917 Russian revolution in Latin America, Brazil 1918-21 [80]” in International Review no 151:
[xxii] Op. Cit. p204.
[xxiii] The UGT in Spain was founded in 1988, where it was presented, as in Argentina, in certain proximity to the Partido Socialista Obrero de Espana (PSOE – Workers’ Socialist Party of Spain). Although the two central unions had a similar origin and even the same name, outside of that there was no political or organic relationship between them.
[xxiv] Cited by Abad de Santillan.
[xxv] Juan Bialet Masse, Informe sobre el estado de las clases obreras argentinas (Report on the state of the Argentinean working class).
[xxvi] Abad de Santillan, Op. Cit.
[xxvii] Cited by S. Marotta, “El movimiento sindical argentinao” (The Argentinean Trade Union Movement) Argentine, 1960, p194.
[xxviii] Cano Ruiz, Que es el anarquismo, (What is anarchism?). Editions Nuevo tiempo (New Times), Mexico, 1985, p272.
[xxix] For a deeper understanding of this question we recommend reading: "Terror, terrorism and class violence [81]", International Review no. 14, 1978: https://en.internationalism.org/node/2649 [7]
[xxx] Abad de Santillan, "The book of the counter-revolution", in The Protest, 110, 1924.
In the previous part of this series, we re-published the article ‘Welcome to Socialisme ou Barbarie’ written by the Gauche Communiste de France in 1948. The article took up a clear position on the nature of the Trotskyist movement, which had abandoned its proletarian credentials by participating in the second imperialist world war:
“Trotskyism, which was one of the proletarian reactions within the Communist International during the first years of its degeneration, never went beyond this position of being an opposition, despite its formal constitution into an organically separate party. By remaining attached to the Communist Parties – which it still sees as workers’ parties –even after the triumph of Stalinism, Trotskyism itself functions as an appendage to Stalinism. It is linked ideologically to Stalinism and follows it around like a shadow. All the activity of Trotskyism over the last 15 years proves this”.
And it goes on to say:
“This doesn’t mean that revolutionary workers who only have a little political education have not been drawn into its ranks. On the contrary, as an organisation, as a political milieu, Trotskyism, far from favouring the development of revolutionary thought and of the organisms (fractions and tendencies) which express it, is an organised milieu for undermining it. This is a general rule valid for any political organisation alien to the proletariat, and experience has demonstrated that it applies to Stalinism and Trotskyism. We have known Trotskyism over 15 years of perpetual crisis, through splits and unifications, followed by further splits and crises, but we don’t know examples which have given rise to real, viable revolutionary tendencies. Trotskyism does not secrete within itself a revolutionary ferment. On the contrary, it annihilates it. The condition for the existence and development of a revolutionary ferment is to be outside the organisational and ideological framework of Trotskyism”[1].
Having constituted itself as a tendency within the French Trotskyist party, the Parti Communiste Internationaliste, the initial reaction of the GCF towards the ‘Chaulieu-Montal tendency’[2] was thus to express severe doubts about its potential for evolution. And yet, with the rupture from the PCI and the formation of the SouB group, the GCF recognized that a genuine break had taken place, and was thus to be welcomed. This did not however prevent the GCF from warning that the new group continued to be marked by vestiges of its Trotskyist past (for example on the union question, or its ambiguous relationship with the review Les Temps Modernes published by the philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre) as well as displaying an unwonted arrogance towards the revolutionary currents who had come to similar conclusions to those of SouB well in advance of its break from Trotskyism.
In this new article, we will seek to show how right the GCF were to be cautious in their welcome to SouB, and how difficult it is for those who have grown up in the corrupt milieu of Trotskyism to make a really profound break with its fundamental ideas and attitudes. We will examine the political trajectory and work of two militants - Castoriadis and Grandizo Munis - who formed parallel tendencies in the Trotskyist movement in the late 40s, and who broke with it at around the same time. The choice of these two militants is apt not only because they illustrate the general problem of breaking with Trotskyism, but also because both of them wrote at length about the question on which this series is based: the content of the socialist revolution.
There is no question that in the late 40s and early 50s, both Castoriadis and Munis were militants of the working class. Munis remained one all his life.
As a young man in occupied Greece Castoriadis quit the Communist Party because he opposed their policy of support for (and even leadership of) the nationalist Resistance. He found his way to the group around Aghis Stinas[3], which though officially part of the Fourth International maintained an intransigent opposition to both camps in the imperialist war, including the Resistance fronts. Ill-informed about the real betrayals of the Trotskyist movement, they assumed that this would be the “normal” position for any internationalist group since it was in continuity with Lenin’s position on the First World War.
In danger from both fascist and Stalinist agents, Castoriadis left Greece at the end of the war and settled in France, becoming a member of the main Trotskyist organisation in that country, the PCI. After forming an opposition tendency within the PCI (the Chaulieu-Montal tendency referred to by the GCF), they split from the Party in 1948 to found the SouB group. The tendency’s splitting document, ‘Open letter to the militants of the PCI and the IVth International….’[4], published in the first issue of Socialisme ou Barbarie, develops a far-reaching critique of the theoretical vacuity of the Trotskyist movement and its inability to function as anything more than an appendage to Stalinism, both in its view that the USSR was still playing a progressive world historical role in setting up new (though deformed) workers’ states in eastern Europe, or in its tail-ending of the Socialist Party/Communist Party coalition which had been made part of the reconstruction government in France and which was charged with overseeing a ferocious intensification of exploitation. It was particularly sharp in its critique of the Fourth International’s toadying to the dissident Stalinist Tito in Yugoslavia, which expressed a clear break with Trotsky’s view that Stalinism could not be reformed.
At the end of his life Trotsky had argued that if the USSR emerged from the war without being overthrown by a proletarian revolution his current would have to revise their view of it as a workers’ state, and might have to conclude that it was the product of a new age of barbarism. There are traces of this approach in the group’s initial characterization of the bureaucracy as a new exploiting class, echoing the ‘bureaucratic collectivism’ analyses of Rizzi and Shachtman, which defined Russia as neither capitalist nor socialist; although as the GCF recognizes, the group soon moved away from this notion towards the idea of a new bureaucratic capitalism. In a text from SouB 2, ‘The relations of production in Russia’, Castoriadis does not hesitate to criticize Trotsky’s own view of the USSR as a system with a capitalist mode of distribution but an essentially socialist mode of production. Such a separation between production and distribution was, it argued, contrary to the marxist critique of political economy. In line with this effort to apply a marxist analysis to the world historic situation, the group considered this tendency towards bureaucratisation to be both global and an expression of the decadence of the capitalist system. This position also explains why the new group’s review was entitled Socialism or Barbarism. In particular, in its open letter and in the first years of SouB, the group considered that in the absence of a proletarian revolution, a third world war between the western and eastern blocs was inevitable.
As for Munis, his courage as a proletarian militant was particularly remarkable. Along with his comrades in the Bolshevik Leninist group, one of the two Trotskyist groups active in Spain during the civil war, and alongside the dissident anarchists of the Friends of Durruti, Munis fought on the barricades erected by the workers’ uprising against the Republican/Stalinist government in May 1937. Imprisoned by the Stalinists towards the end of the war, he narrowly escaped an execution squad and fled to Mexico, where he resumed his activity within the Trotskyist milieu, speaking at Trotsky’s funeral and becoming influential on the political evolution of Natalia Trotsky, who like Munis was becoming increasingly critical of the official Trotskyist stance on the imperialist war and the defence of the USSR.
One of his first major criticisms of the Fourth International’s position on the war was contained in his response to James Cannon’s defence, at his trial for ‘sedition’ in Minneapolis, of the policy of the Socialist Workers Party in the US – an application of the ‘proletarian military policy’ which essentially consisted of a call to place the USA’s war against fascism under ‘workers’ control’. For Munis this represented a complete capitulation to the war effort of an imperialist bourgeoisie. Although quite late in clearly rejecting the defence of the USSR[5], by 1947 Munis, also in an open letter to the PCI written with Natalia and the surrealist poet Benjamin Peret, was insisting that the rejecting the defence of the USSR was now an urgent necessity for revolutionaries[6]. Like the Chaulieu-Montal letter, the text denounced the Trotskyists’ support for the Stalinist regime in the east (though not yet putting forward a definite analysis of its social nature) and for CP/SP governments in the west. The letter is much more focused than that of Chaulieu-Montal on the question of the Second World War and the betrayal of internationalism by large parts of the Trotskyist movement through their support for antifascism and the Resistance alongside their defence of the USSR. It also clearly rejects the idea that nationalisations – the call and support for which was a central plank of Trotskyisms ‘programmatic demands’– could be viewed as anything but a reinforcement of capitalism. Although the letter still harbours hopes for a revived IVth International purged of opportunism, and to this end called for joint work between his group and the Chaulieu-Montal tendency within the International, in reality the current around Munis soon broke all links with this false International and formed an independent group (the Union Ouvrière Internationale) which, like SouB, entered into discussion with the groups of the communist left.
We will return later on to the subsequent political trajectory of Castoriadis and Munis. Our main aim is to examine how, in a period dominated by Stalinist and social democratic definitions of socialism, a period of retreat for the working class and of growing isolation of the revolutionary minority, both militants tried to elaborate a vision of an authentic path to the communist future. We begin with Castoriadis, whose three articles on ‘The Content of Socialism’(CS), published between 1955 and 1958 in Socialisme ou Barbarie[7] are without doubt his most ambitious attempt to criticise the dominant falsities about the meaning of socialism and to put forward an alternative. These texts, but above all the second, were to have an influence on a number of other groups and currents, not least the Situationist International, which took up Castoriadis’ notion of generalised self-management, and the UK libertarian socialist group Solidarity, which was to rework article two in their pamphlet Workers’ Councils and the Economics of a Self-managed Society[8].
The dates of publication are significant; in between the first article and the second there were momentous events in the ‘eastern’ empire: Kruschev’s famous speech about Stalin’s excesses, the revolt in Poland and above all the proletarian uprising in Hungary, which saw the emergence of workers’ councils. These events evidently had a major impact on Castoriadis’ thought and on the rather detailed description of a projected socialist society in the second article. The problem is that these articles persist in the theoretical arrogance noted by the GCF in 1948 with their claim to having understood key elements of capitalism and its revolutionary negation which had not been grasped in the workers’ movement, including by Marx. But in reality, rather than going ‘beyond’ Marx, they tend to take us back to Proudhon, as we shall explain.
That is not to say that there are no positive elements in these texts. They confirm Castoriadis’ rejection of the Trotskyist view of Stalinism as a misguided expression of the workers’ movement, insisting that it defends a class interest which is opposed to that of the proletariat. Although Castoriadis freely accepts that his conception of the post-revolutionary society is very close to the one put forward by Pannekoek in his pamphlet Workers’ Councils[9], he does not fall into some of the crucial errors of the ‘late’ Pannekoek: the rejection of the Russian revolution as bourgeois and of any role for a revolutionary political organisation. Instead the Russian revolution is still treated as an essentially proletarian experience whose degeneration must be understood and learned from. Neither do the texts fall explicitly into the anarchist position that rejects centralisation on principle: on the contrary, he strongly criticizes the classical anarchist view and argues that “To refuse to face up to the question of central power is tantamount to leaving the solution of these problems to some bureaucracy or other”[10].
Rejecting the Trotskyist view that a mere change in the forms of property can bring about an end to the mechanics of capitalist exploitation, Castoriadis rightly insist that socialism has no meaning unless it brings about a total transformation in humanity’s relationship with all aspects of social and economic life, a change from a society in which mankind is dominated by the products of his own hands and brains to one in which human beings consciously control their own activity, and above all the process of production. For this reason, Castoriadis stresses the central importance of the workers’ councils as the forms through which this profound change in the way society operates can be brought about. The difficulty arises less with this general notion of socialism as the restoration of “human power as its own end”, but with the more concrete means Castoriadis advocates to achieve this goal, and with the theoretical method that lies behind the measures he advocates.
To begin with the idea of criticising the contributions of the past workers’ movement: there is nothing wrong in this per se. In fact it is an essential element in the development of the communist project. We cannot disagree with Castoriadis’ idea that the workers’ movement is necessarily affected by the dominant ideology and that it can only throw off this influence through a process of constant reflection and struggle. But Castoriadis’ criticisms are very often inaccurate and lead to conclusions that tend to ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater ‘ –in short, they lead him towards a break with marxism that was to become explicit not long after these articles were published, and the premises of this break can already be seen in these texts. To give an example: he already rejects the marxist theory of crisis as a product of the internal economic contradictions of the system. For him the crisis is not the result of overproduction or the falling rate of profit but a result of the growing rejection, by those ‘below’, of the division of society into order givers and order takers, which he sees not as the inevitable product of capitalist exploitation, but its actual foundation: “The abolition of exploitation is only possible when every separate stratum of directors ceases to exist, for in modern societies it is the division between directors and executants that is at the root of exploitation”[11]. By the same token, in CSII he offers us an extremely reductionist (albeit very common) caricature of Rosa Luxemburg’s theory of crisis as one that predicts a purely automatic collapse of capitalism.
Seizing on a quote from Marx about the persistence of a “realm of necessity” even in communism, Castoriadis thinks he has discovered a fatal flaw in Marx’s thinking: that for Marx, production would always be a sphere of denial and essentially of alienation, whereas he, Castoriadis, alone has discovered that alienation cannot be overcome unless the sphere of production is also one in which our humanity is expressed. The reference (in CS II) is to the passage in Capital volume 3 where Marx says that “the realm of freedom actually begins only where labour which is determined by necessity and mundane considerations ceases; thus in the very nature of things it lies beyond the sphere of actual material production”[12]. This passage does imply that labour or material production can never be an area of human fulfillment, and for Castoriadis this represent a decline from the early Marx who looked forward to the transformation of labour into free activity (especially in the 1844 Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts) . But presenting things in this way distorts the complexity of Marx’s thought. In the Critique of the Gotha Programme, written in 1875, Marx also insists that the aim of the proletarian revolution is a society in which “labor has become not only a means of life but life's prime want”. We can find similar ideas in the Grundrisse, another ‘mature’ work[13].
A common criticism of ‘On the content of socialism’ is that it violates Marx’s admonition against “drawing up recipes for the cookbooks of the future”. In CSII Castoriadis anticipates this criticism by denying that he is trying to draw up statutes or a constitution for the new society. It is interesting to see how much capitalist society has changed since CSII was written, posing problems which don’t quite fit into the schema – above all the tendency towards the elimination of large factory production at the centre of many of the central capitalist countries, the growth of precarious employment, and the practise of ‘outsourcing’ to areas of the globe where labour power is cheaper. We can’t blame Castoriadis for failing to predict such developments, but it does show the pitfalls of schematic anticipations of future society. However, we prefer to look at the ideas contained in the text and to show why so much of what Castoriadis puts forward would in any case not be part of a really evolving communist programme.
We have already mentioned Castoriadis’ rejection of Marx’s theory of crisis in favor of his own innovation: exploitation, and the fundamental contradiction of ‘modern’ capitalism, as being rooted in the division between order givers and order-takers. And this bold ‘revisionism’, this shelving of the economic contradictions inherent in the wage relationship and the accumulation of capital, means that Castoriadis has no qualms about describing his socialist society of the future as one where all the essential categories of capital remain intact and present no danger of engendering a new form of exploitation and no obstacle to the transition to a fully communist society.
In 1972, when the UK Solidarity group produced their pamphlet Workers’ Councils and the Economics of a Self-managed Society, their introduction was already rather defensive about the fact that the ‘socialist’ society described by Castoriadis still retained a number of the key features of capitalism: wages (although Castoriadis insists on the absolute equality of wages from day one), prices, labour value as the source of accounting, a consumer market, and “the criterion of profitability”. And indeed in a polemic written in 1972, Adam Buick of the Socialist Party of Great Britain showed the degree to which the Solidarity version had bowdlerised some of the most embarrassing passages in the original:
“Nobody who has read the original article can deny that Cardan was an advocate of so-called 'market socialism'. Solidarity themselves clearly found this embarrassing because they have edited out its more crude manifestations. In their introduction they apologise:
"Some will see the text as a major contribution to the perpetuation of wage slavery - because it still talks of 'wages' and doesn't call for the immediate abolition of 'money' (although clearly defining the radically different meanings these terms will acquire in the early stages of a self-managed society)" (p.4)
and, again, in a footnote :
"All the preceding talk of ‘wages', 'prices' and 'the market' will, for instance, undoubtedly have startled a certain group of readers. We would ask them momentarily to curb their emotional responses and to try to think rationally with us on the matter" (p. 36).
But Cardan did not speak only of 'wages', 'prices' and 'the market'. He also spoke of 'profitability' (rentabilité) and 'rate of interest’ ('taux d'intérêt'). This was evidently too much even for Solidarity's curbed emotion since these words nowhere appear in the edited translation.
It is very revealing to give some examples of the way Solidarity has toned down the 'market socialism' aspects of Cardan's original articles:
Original: shops selling to consumers (magasins de vente aux consomateurs) .
Solidarity’s version : stores distributing to consumers (p. 24).
Original: The market for consumer goods (le marché des biens de consommation).
Solidarity’s version : consumer goods (heading p. 35).
Original: This implies the existence of a real market for consumer goods (ce qui implique 1'existence d'un marché réel pour les biens de consommation).
Solidarity’s version: This implies the existence of some mechanism whereby consumer demand can genuinely make itself felt (p.35)
Original: Money, prices, Wages and value
Solidarity’s version: 'money', 'wages', 'value' (heading p. 36)..
In fact Cardan envisaged a market economy in which everybody would be paid in circulating money an equal wage with which to buy goods which would be on sale at a price equal to their value (amount of socially necessary labour embodied in them). And he as the cheek to claim that Marx also held that under Socialism goods would exchange at their values…”[GD1] [14]
The real continuity here is not with Marx but with Proudhon, whose future ‘mutualist’ society is a society of independent commodity producers, exchanging their products at their value. ..
Castoriadis does not claim that the society he describes is the final goal of the revolution. In fact, his position is very similar to the definition that arose during the period of social democracy and was theorised by Lenin in particular: socialism is a stage on the road to communism[15]. And of course Stalinism took full advantage of this idea to argue that the fully stratified economy of the USSR was already “real socialism”. But the problem with this idea lies not only in the way it was used by Stalinism. A deeper difficulty is that it tends to freeze the transition period into a stable mode of production, when it can really only be understood in a dynamic and contradictory manner, as a period marked by a constant struggle between the communist measures unleashed by the political power of the working class, and all the remnants of the old world which tend to drag society back towards capitalism. Whether the political regime of this ‘socialist’ stage is envisaged despotically or democratically, the fundamental illusion remains: that you can arrive at communism through a process of accumulating capital. One can even see Castoriadis’ attempt to develop a balanced economy, where production is harmonised with the consumer market, as a reflection of the Keynesian methods of the day, which aimed to do away with economic crises precisely by achieving such a planned equilibrium. And this in turn reveals the degree to which Castoriadis was bewitched by the appearance of capitalist economic stability in the period that followed the Second World War[16].
In an early section of CS II, Castoriadis rightly takes up Marx’s view that the future society of free producers must profoundly simplify the whole process of production and distribution – must make its operations “perfectly simple and intelligible”, to use the term used by Marx in one of the rare descriptions of communist society contained in Capital[17]. But by retaining the categories of value production, not only will any attempt to rationally plan production and distribution be fettered by the concerns of the market and of profitability, it will also lead sooner or later to the same old shit – to economic crisis and to hidden, then open, forms of exploitation. It also seems rather ironic that having developed, in the early part of CSII, the argument that capitalist technology cannot be seen as neutral but is profoundly connected to the goals of capitalist production, Castoriadis then appears to opt for something of a technical fix, in which the ‘Plan Factory’, using very big computers, is able to work out how the self-managed market will achieve a perfect economic balance.
Castoriadis’ inability to envisage a real overcoming of the wage relation is connected to his fixation on the notion of the socialist “enterprise” as a self-managed unit, albeit one that coordinates with other enterprises and branches of production at various levels. CSII ‘s description of relations in the future socialist society begins with a long section on how the factory of the future will be managed, and only later in the text does it discuss how society as a whole will be run at the political and economic level. CSIII is almost entirely devoted to analysing the reality of day to day resistance on the factory shop floor, seeing it as the soil in which a future revolutionary consciousness will develop. Castoriadis is not wrong to stress the importance of the workplace as a focus for the association of the workers, for their collective resistance, and in any revolutionary process the base assemblies at the workplace will certainly play a vital role as ‘cells’ of a wider network of councils. But Castoriadis goes further than this and suggests that in socialist society the factory/workplace will maintain itself as a kind of fixed community. On the contrary, as Bordiga for one always stressed, the emergence of communism necessarily involves the end of the individual enterprise, and the real overcoming of the division of labour will surely imply that producers are less and less tied to a single unit of production.
Perhaps more importantly, Castoriadis’ ‘factoryism’ leads to a profound underestimation of the primary function of workers’ councils, which is not the management of the factory but the unification of the working class at both the economic and political levels. For Castoriadis, a workers’ council is essentially a council elected by the workers’ assembly of a given unit of production, and towards the end of CSII he clearly distinguishes this from the Russian soviets which he sees as essentially based on territorial units[18]
“Although the Russian word ‘soviet’ means ‘council,’ one should not confuse the workers' councils we have been describing in this text with even the earliest Russian Soviets. The workers' councils are based on one's place of work. They can play both a political role and a role in the industrial management of production. In its essence, a workers' council is a universal organ. The 1905 Petrograd Soviet (Council) of Workers' Deputies, although the product of a general strike and, although exclusively proletarian in composition, remained a purely political organ. The Soviets of 1917 were as a rule geographically based. They too were purely political institutions, in which all social layers opposed to the old regime formed a united front”
Castoriadis does envisage a network of councils taking on the running of local and national political affairs, and Solidarity helpfully draws us a diagram, but it seems to involve a central assembly of factory delegates at national level without anything in between. But, fixated on the problem of managing the factory (an issue that in Russia was taken up by the factory committees), Castoriadis underestimates the significance of the fact that the soviets emerged both in 1905 and 1917 to coordinate the workplaces engaged in a mass strike: they were a ‘council of war’ of delegates from all the enterprises in a given town or city, and from the very beginning took up the direction of a movement that was moving from the terrain of economic defence to one of political confrontation with the existing regime.
It’s true that alongside, and often in conjunction with, the soviets of workers’ deputies there were soviets of soldiers’ and sailors’ delegates, elected from the barracks and on the ships, and soviets of peasants’ deputies elected from the villages, as well as comparable forms elected on the basis of urban neighbourhoods, blocks of flats, etc. In that sense there was a strongly territorial or residential basis to many of the soviets. But this raises a further question: the relationship between the workers’ councils and the councils of other non-exploiting strata. Castoriadis is aware of this problem as his ‘diagram’ envisages the central assembly of delegates containing delegates from peasant councils and councils of professionals and small traders. For us this is the central problem of the state in the period of transition: a period in which classes still exist, in which the working class has to exercise its dictatorship while at the same time integrating the other non-exploiting strata into political life and into the process of transforming social relations. Castoriadis envisages a similar process but he rejects the idea that this transitional organisation of society constitutes a state. In our view this approach is more rather than less likely to permit a situation where the state becomes an autonomous force opposing the organs of the working class, as happened rather rapidly in Russia given the isolation of the revolution after 1917. For us, the real independence of the working class and its councils is better served by calling the state what it is, by recognizing its inherent dangers, and ensuring that there is no subordination of the organs of the working class to the organs of ‘society as a whole’.
A final expression of Castoriadis’ failure to envisage a real break with the categories of capital: the limitation of his vision to the national level. Hints of this are given here and there in CSII where he talks about how things might work “in a country like France”, and how “the population of the entire country” might run their affairs through an assembly of council delegates which is depicted as existing on a national scale only. But the danger of seeing “socialism” in a national framework comes through much more explicitly in this passage:
“…the revolution can only begin in one country, or in one group of countries. As a result, it will have to endure pressures of extremely varying kinds and durations. On the other hand, however swiftly the revolution spreads internationally, a country's level of internal development will play an important role in how the principles of socialism will be concretely applied. For example, agriculture might create important problems in France—but not in the United States —or Great Britain (where, inversely, the main problem would be that of the country's extreme dependence on food imports). In the course of our analysis, we have considered several problems of this kind and hope to have shown that solutions tending in a socialist direction existed in each case.
We have not been able to consider the special problems that would arise if the revolution remained isolated in one country for a long time —and we can hardly do it here. But we hope to have shown that it is wrong to think that the problems arising from such isolation are insoluble, that an isolated workers' power must die heroically or degenerate, or that at the most it can ‘hold on’ while waiting. The only way to ‘hold on’ is to start building socialism; otherwise, degeneration has already[GD2] set in, and there is nothing to hold on for. For workers' power, the building of socialism from the very first day is not only possible, it is imperative. If it does not take place the power held has already ceased to be workers' power”[19]
The idea that a proletarian power can hold on in a single country by building socialism reverses the reality of the problem and takes us back, finally, to the errors of the Bolsheviks after 1921, and even to the counter-revolutionary positions of Stalin and Bukharin after 1924. When the working class takes power in one country it will, of course be compelled to take economic measures to guarantee the provision of basic needs, and as far as possible they should be compatible with communist principles and antithetical to the categories of capital. But it must always be recognised that any such measures (like ‘war communism’ in Russia) will be deeply distorted by conditions of isolation and scarcity and will not necessarily have any direct continuity to the authentic communist reconstruction that will only begin once the working class has defeated the bourgeoisie on a global scale. In the meantime, the essentially political task of extending the revolution will have to take precedence over the contingent and experimental social and economic measures that will take place in the first stages of a communist revolution.
We will return later to the political trajectory followed by Castoriadis, which would be significantly molded by this departure from marxism at the theoretical level
Munis returned to Spain in 1951 to intervene in a widespread outbreak of class struggle, seeing the possibility of a new revolutionary upsurge against the Franco regime[20]. He was arrested and spent the next seven years in jail. It can be argued that Munis failed to draw some key political lessons from this experience, particularly about the revolutionary possibilities of the post-war period, but it certainly did not dampen his commitment to the revolutionary cause. He took very precarious refuge in France – the French state soon expelled him - and he spent several years in Milan, where he entered into contact with the Bordigists and with Onorato Damen of Battaglia Comunista, with whom he developed a strong mutual respect. It was during this period, in 1961 that Munis, in company with Peret, founded the group Fomento Obrero Revolucionario. In this context, he produced two of his most important theoretical texts: Unions against revolution in 1960 and For a second Communist Manifesto (FSCM) in 1961[21].
At the beginning of this article we noted the similarities in the political trajectories of Castoriadis and Munis in their break with Trotskyism. But by the early 60s their paths had begun to diverge rather radically. In its early days, the title Socialisme ou Barbarie was consistent with the real choice facing humanity: Castoriadis considered himself to be a marxist and the alternative announced in the title expressed the group’s adherence to the notion that capitalism had entered its epoch of decline[22]. But in the introduction to the first volume of a collection of his writings, The Bureaucratic Society[23] , Castoriadis describes the period 1960-64 as the years of his break with marxism, considering not only that capitalism had essentially resolved its economic contradictions, thus disproving the basic premises of the marxist critique of political economy; but also that marxism, whatever its insights, could not be separated from the ideologies and regimes which laid claim to it. In other words, Castoriadis, like other former Trotskyists (such as the remnants of the German RKD) went from a wholesale rejection of “Leninism” to a rejection of marxism itself (and thus ended up in a “new look” kind of anarchism).
Even though, as we shall also examine, FSCM indicates the degree to which Munis had not entirely thrown off the weight of his Trotskyist past, it argues quite clearly that, despite all the contemporary propaganda about the affluent society and the integration of the working class, the real trajectory of capitalist society confirmed the fundamentals of marxism: that capitalism had, since the first world war, entered its epoch of decadence, in which the crying contradiction between the relations of production and the productive forces were threatening to drag humanity to ruin, above all because of the historic danger of war between the two imperialist blocs that dominated the globe. The affluent society was in essence a war economy.
Far from blaming marxism for in some sense giving birth to Stalinism, FSCM eloquently denounces the Stalinist regimes and parties as the purest expression of capitalist decadence, which, in different forms around the world, was engendering a drive towards totalitarian state capitalism. From the same theoretical starting point, the text argues that all national liberation struggles had become moments in the global imperialist confrontation. At a time which saw a widespread dissemination of the idea that national struggles in the Third World were the new force for revolutionary change, this was a striking example of revolutionary intransigence, and the arguments that accompanied it would be amply confirmed by the evolution of the ‘post-colonial’ regimes produced by the struggle for national independence. And it stood in contrast with the ambiguities of the SouB group on the war in Algeria and other basic class issues. The FSCM makes it clear that SouB has followed a path of compromise and workerism rather than of fighting for communist clarity, against the stream where necessary:
“For its part, the ‘Socialisme ou Barbarie’ tendency, which also came out of the IVth International , operates at the tail end of the decaying French ‘left’ on all problems and in all important movements: on Algeria and the colonial problem, 13 May 1958 and the Gaullist power, trade unions and contemporary workers’ struggles, attitude towards Stalinism and state direction in general. To the point where, although it sees the Russian economy as a form of state capitalism, it has only served to spread further confusion. By expressly renouncing the task of struggling against the current and by only saying to the working class ‘what it can understand’, it dooms itself to its own failure. Lacking in nerve this ‘tendency’ has given in to a kind of versatility which has the air of existentialist tight-rope walking. To them, as towards other currents in the US, it’s worth recalling Lenin’s words: ‘a few pitiful intellectuals who think that with the workers it’s enough to talk about the factory and blather on about what they have already known about for a long time’”.
Again, in contrast to the evolution of SouB, FSCM has no hesitation in defending the proletarian character of the October revolution and of the Bolshevik party. In a document written about 10 years later, and which takes up similar themes to FSCM, Party-state, Stalinism, Revolution[24], Munis argues against those currents from the German and Dutch left who had reneged on their initial support for October and decided that the Russian revolution and Bolshevism were essentially bourgeois in nature. At the same time, FSCM focuses on certain key errors which accelerated the degeneration of the revolution in Russia and the rise of the Stalinist counter-revolution: the confusion of nationalisations and state property with socialism, and the idea that the dictatorship of the proletariat meant the dictatorship of the party. In Party-State, Munis also has a definite insight into the idea that the transitional state cannot be seen as the agent of communist transformation, echoing the position of Bilan and the GCF:
“From the Paris Commune, revolutionaries drew a lesson of great importance, among others: the capitalist state could not be conquered or used; it had to be demolished. The Russian revolution deepened this same lesson in a decisive manner: the state, however workers’ or soviet it might be, cannot be the organiser of communism. As the proprietor of the instruments of labour, as the collector of necessary (or superfluous) social surplus labour, far from withering away, it acquires an unlimited smothering force and capacity. Philosophically the idea of an emancipating state is pure Hegelian idealism, unacceptable to historical materialism” (P-S, 43)
And where Castoriadis in ‘The content of socialism’ advocates a form of self-managed capitalism, Munis offers no room for doubt about the economic/social content of the communist programme – the abolition of wage labour and commodity production.
“The aim of a really planned economy can only be to bring production into accord with consumption; only the full satisfaction of the latter – and not profit or privileges, nor the demands of ‘national defence’ or an industrialisation alien to the daily needs of the masses – can be considered as the spur of production. The first condition for such an approach can thus[GD3] only be the disappearance of wage labour, the foundation stone of the law of value, universally present in capitalist societies, even if many of them claim today to be socialist or communist”.
At the same time, this strength of FSCM regarding the content of the communist transformation also has a weak side – a tendency to assume that wage labour and commodity production can be abolished from the first day, even in the context of a single country. It’s true, as the text says, that “from the first day, the society in transition born from this victory must aim towards this goal. It must not lose sight for an instant of the strict interdependence between production and consumption”. But as we have already remarked, the proletariat in a single country must also never lose sight of the fact that whatever measures it undertakes can only be temporary as long as the revolutionary victory has not been achieved on a world scale, and that they remain subject to the global operation of the laws of capitalism. The fact that Munis does not keep this in mind at all times is confirmed in particular in Party-state where he presents war communism as a kind of “non-capitalism” and sees the NEP as the restoration of capitalist relations. We have already criticised this approach in two articles in the International Review nos 25 and 52 [25]. It is also confirmed by what Munis always maintained about the events in Spain 36-37: for him the Spanish revolution went even deeper than the Russian revolution. This was partly because in May 1937 the workers for the first time showed, arms in hands, an understanding of the counter-revolutionary role of Stalinism. But he also considered that the Spanish industrial and agrarian collectives had established small islands of communism. In sum: communist relations are possible even without the destruction of the bourgeois state and the international extension of the revolution. In these conceptions we see, once again, a renewal of anarchist ideas and even an anticipation of the ‘communisation’ current which was to develop in the 1970s and which has a definite influence within the wider anarchist movement today.
And while an incomplete break with Trotskyism sometimes takes this anarchist direction, it can also manifest itself in more explicit hangovers from Trotskyism. Thus FSCM ends with a kind of updated version of the 1938 transitional programme. We quote at length from our article in International Review 52:
“In its 'For a Second Communist Manifesto' the FOR considered it correct to put forward all kinds of transitional demands in the absence of revolutionary movements of the proletariat. These go from the 30 hours week, the suppression of piece work and of time and motion studies in the factories to the ‘demand for work for all, unemployed and youth’ on the economic terrain. On the political level the FOR demands democratic 'rights' and 'freedoms' from the bourgeoisie: freedom of speech, of the press, of assembly; the right of workers to elect permanent workshop, factory or professional delegates ‘without any judicial or trade union formalities’.
This is all within the Trotskyist logic, according to which it is enough to pose the right demands to gradually arrive at the revolution. For the Trotskyists, the whole trick is to know how to be a pedagogue for the workers, who don't understand anything about their demands, to brandish in front of them the most appetising carrots in order to push the workers towards their 'party'. Is this what Munis wants, with his Transitional Program Mark 2?
The FOR still doesn't understand today:
It's very characteristic that the FOR should put on the same level its reformist slogans about democratic 'rights and freedoms' for workers, and slogans which could only arise in a fully revolutionary period. We thus find mixed pell-mell such slogans as:
‘expropriation of industrial, finance, and agricultural capital;
workers' management of the production and distribution of goods;
destruction of all the instruments of war, atomic as well as classical, dissolution of armies and police, reconversion of war industries into consumer industries;
individual armament of those exploited by capitalism, territorially organized according to the schema of democratic committees of management and distribution;
suppression of frontiers and constitution of a single government and a single economy to the extent of the proletariat's victory in diverse in countries.’
. …..All these slogans display enormous confusions. The FOR seems to have abandoned any marxist compass. There is no distinction made between a pre-revolutionary period in which capital still rules politically, a revolutionary period in which a dual power is established, and the period of transition (after the seizure of power by the proletariat) which alone can put on the agenda (and then not immediately!) the ‘suppression of wage labor’ and the ‘suppression of frontiers.’[26]
Munis died in February 1989. The ICC published a tribute to him that began by saying that “the proletariat has lost a militant who devoted his whole life to the class struggle”[27]. After briefly tracing the political history of Munis through Spain in the 30s, his break with Trotskyism over the Second World War, his sojourn in Franco’s jails in the early 50s and the publication of For a Second Communist Manifesto, the article takes up the story in the late 60s:
In 1967, along with comrades from the Venezuelan group Internacialismo, he participated in efforts to restore contacts with the revolutionary milieu in Italy. Thus, at the end of the ‘60s, with the resurgence of the working class onto the scene of history, he took his place alongside the weak revolutionary forces existing at that time, including those who were to form Révolution Internationale in France. But at the beginning of the ‘70s, he unfortunately remained outside the discussions and attempts at regroupment which resulted in particular in the constitution of the ICC in 1975. Even so, the Ferment Ouvrière Révolutionaire (FOR), the group he formed in Spain and France around the positions of the ‘Second Manifesto', at first agreed to participate in the series of conferences of groups of the communist left which began in Milan in 1977. But this attitude altered during the course of the second conference; the FOR walked out of the conference, and this was the expression of a tendency towards sectarian isolation which up to now has prevailed in this organisation”.
Today the FOR no longer exists. It was always highly dependent on the personal charisma of Munis, who was not able to pass on a solid tradition of organisation to the new generation of militants who rallied round him, and which could have served as a basis for the continued functioning of the group after Munis’ death. And as the tribute notes, the group suffered from a tendency towards sectarianism which further weakened its capacity to survive.
The example of this attitude referred to in the tribute is the rather showy departure of Munis and his group from the second conference of the communist left, citing his disagreement with the other groups on the problem of the economic crisis. This is not the place to examine this problem in detail, but we can see the core of Munis’ position in the FSCM:
“The recovery of the fighting spirit and the resurgence of a revolutionary situation cannot be expected, as claimed by certain marxists who lean towards economic automatism, to be the result of one of these cyclical crises, wrongly called ‘crises of overproduction’. These are the tremours which regularise the chaotic development of the system, and are not the result of its exhaustion. Managed capitalism knows how to attenuate them and besides, even if one of them does arise, it could easily favour the tortuous designs of new reactionaries, who await their moment, five year plans in one pocket, and production norms in the other. The general crisis of capitalism is its exhaustion as a social system. It consists, summarily speaking, in the fact that the instruments of production as capital and the distribution of products, limited by wage labour, have become incompatible with human necessities, and even with the maximum possibilities that technique could offer to economic development. That crisis is insurmountable for capitalism, and in the West as well as in Russia it gets worse every day”
Munis’s position is thus not one of simply denying the crisis of overproduction, and indeed earlier on in the FSCM he attributes them to a fundamental contradiction in the system, that between use value and exchange value. Furthermore, in his rejection of “automatism”, any idea that an economic crash will mechanically lead to an upsurge in revolutionary consciousness, Munis is correct. He is also right to see that the emergence of a truly revolutionary consciousness involves the recognition that the very social relations underlying civilisation have become incompatible with the needs of humanity. These are points which could have been discussed with other groups of the communist left and certainly didn’t justify leaving the Paris conference without even explaining his real differences.
Again, in his pamphlet ‘Mistaken Trajectory of Révolution Internationale[28], where his views on the relationship between economic crisis and class consciousness are explained at greater length, Munis does sometimes hit the target, since, as we argued in our resolution on the international situation from the 21st international congress, the ICC has sometimes drawn an immediatist and mechanical link between crisis and revolution[29]. But reality was not really on the side of Munis, since whether we like it or not, the capitalist system has indeed been stuck in a very profound economic crisis ever since the 1970s; the idea that economic crises are simply part of the mechanism for “regularising” the system seems to reflect the pressures of the time the FSCM was written – the early 60s, the zenith of the post-war boom. But this peak was followed by a rapid descent into a global economic crisis that has proved fundamentally intractable, despite all the energies that a state-managed system has expended in slowing down and delaying its worst effects. And while it’s true that a genuinely revolutionary consciousness must grasp the incompatibility between capitalist social relations and the needs of humanity, the visible failure of an economic system which presents itself as no less than an incarnation of human nature will surely play a key part in enabling the exploited to throw off their illusions in capitalism and its immortality.
Underlying this refusal to analyse the economic dimension of capitalism’s decadence there lies an unresolved voluntarism, the theoretical foundations of which can be traced back to the letter announcing his break from the Trotskyist organisation in France, the Parti Communiste Internationaliste, where he steadfastly maintains Trotsky’s notion, presented in the opening lines of the Transitional Programme, that the crisis of humanity is the crisis of revolutionary leadership:
“The crisis of humanity – we repeat this a thousand times along with L.D. Trotsky – is a crisis of revolutionary leadership. All the explanations which try to lay the responsibility for the failure of the revolution on the objective conditions, the ideological gap or the illusions of the masses, on the power of Stalinism or the illusory attraction of the ‘degenerated workers’ state’, are wrong and only serve to excuse those responsible, to distract attention from the real problem and obstruct its solution. An authentic revolutionary leadership, given the present level of the objective conditions for the taking of power, must overcome all obstacles, surmount all difficulties, triumph over all its adversaries”[30]
It was this ‘heroic’ attitude which led Munis to see the possibility of revolution just under the surface at all times during the decadent period: in the 1930s, when Munis sees the events in Spain not as proof of a triumphant counter-revolution but as the highest point of the revolutionary wave that began in 1917; at the end of the Second World War, when, as we have seen, Munis saw the movements in Spain 1951 as the precursor to a revolutionary onslaught; at the height of the ‘boom’ period of the 60s, since the FSCM already refers to “the accumulation of formidable revolutionary energies” taking place at the time it was written. And just as he rejected the ICC’s efforts to examine the evolution of the economic crisis, he equally rejects our argument that even if decadence means that the proletarian revolution is on the agenda of history, there can be phases of profound defeat and disarray in the class during this period, phases which make revolution almost impossible and which confer different tasks on the revolutionary organisation.
But however costly these errors might have been, they are understandable errors of a revolutionary who desires with his whole being to see the end of capitalism and the beginning of the communist revolution. This is why our tribute concludes:
“It's thus clear that we have very important differences with the FOR, which has led us to polemicise with them a number of times in our press (see in particular the article in International Review 52). However, despite the serious errors he may have made, Munis remained to the end a militant who was deeply loyal to the combat of the working class. He was one of those very rare militants who stood up to the pressures of the most terrible counterrevolution the proletariat has ever known, when many deserted or even betrayed the militant fight; and he was once again there alongside the class with the historical resurgence of its struggles at the end of the ‘60s.
We pay our homage to this militant of the revolutionary struggle, to his loyalty and unbreakable commitment to the proletarian cause. To the comrades of the FOR, we send our fraternal greetings”
One of the best accounts of the life of Munis was written by August Guillamon in 1993. Its title – ‘G Munis, a little known revolutionary’[31] – summarises one of the main points of the article: that most of those militants who, through the trials and tribulations of the 20th century, remained loyal to the proletarian cause, were not rewarded by fame or fortune: alongside Munis he mentions Onorato Damen, Amadeo Bordiga, Paul Mattick, Karl Korsch, Ottorino Perrone, Bruno Maffi, Anton Pannekoek [83] and Henk Canne-Meijer[32]. By contrast, our obituary for Castoriadis was entitled, ‘Death of Cornelius Castoriadis: bourgeoisie pays homage to one of its servants’[33]. We can let the article speak for itself, adding a few further comments.
“The bourgeois press, especially in France, has made a certain amount of noise about the death of Cornelius Castoriadis. Le Monde referred to it in two successive issues (28-29 December and 30 December 1997) and devoted a full page to it under a significant title: 'Death of Cornelius Castoriadis, anti-marxist revolutionary'. This title is typical of the ideological methods of the bourgeoisie. It contains two truths wrapped around the lie that they want us to swallow. The truths: Castoriadis is dead, and he was anti-marxist. The lie: he was a revolutionary. To shore up the idea, Le Monde recalls Castoriadis' own words, ‘repeated until the end of his life’: ‘. "Whatever happens, I will remain first and above all a revolutionary’.
And indeed, in his youth, he had been a revolutionary. At the end of the 1940s he broke with the Trotskyist ‘4th International’ in company with a number of other comrades and animated the review Socialisme ou Barbarie. At this time SouB represented an effort, albeit confused and limited by its Trotskyist origins, to develop a proletarian line of thought in the middle of the triumphant counter-revolution. But in the course of the 1950s, under the impulsion of Castoriadis (who signed his articles Pierre Chaulieu, then Paul Cardan), SouB more and more rejected the weak marxist foundations on which it had been built. In particular, Castoriadis developed the idea that the real antagonism in society was no longer between exploiters and exploited but between ‘order givers and order takers’. SouB finally disappeared at the beginning of 1966, hardly two years before the events of May 68, which marked the historic resurgence of the world-wide class struggle after a counter-revolution of nearly half a century. In fact, Castoriadis had ceased to be a revolutionary long before he died, even if he was able to maintain the illusory appearance of one.
Castoriadis was not the first to betray the revolutionary convictions of his youth. The history of the workers' movement is littered with such examples. What characterised him, however, is that he dressed his treason in the rags of ‘political radicalism’, in the claim that he was opposed to the whole existing social order. We can see this by looking at an article written in Le Monde Diplomatique in response to his final book, 'Done and to be done', 1997.
"Castoriadis gives us the tools to contest, to build the barricades, to envisage the socialism of the future, to think about changing the world, to desire to change life politically... What political heritage can come from the history of the workers’ movement, when it is now obvious that the proletariat cannot play the role of motor force that marxism attributed to it? Castoriadis replies with a superb programme that combines the highest demands of human polity with the best of the socialist ideal...Action and thought are in search of a new radicalism, now that the Leninist parenthesis is closed, now that the police-state marxism of history has fallen into dust..."
In reality, this ‘radicalism’ that makes highbrow journalists drool so much was a fig leaf covering the fact that Castoriadis' message was extremely useful to the ideological campaigns of the bourgeoisie. Thus, his declaration that marxism had been pulverised (The rise of Insignificance, 1996) gave its ‘radical’ backing to the whole campaign about the death of communism which developed after the collapse of the Stalinist regimes of the eastern bloc in 1989”.
We have seen some of the early signs of a search for recognition in the decision of the Castoriadis group to write for Sartre’s Les Temps Modernes, a practice strongly criticized by the GCF[34]. But it is when he finally abandons the idea of a working class revolution and begins to speculate about a kind of autonomous citizens’ utopia, when he dives into the more obscure pools of sociology and Lacanian psychoanalysis, that he becomes of interest to bourgeois academia and the more sophisticated branches of the media, who were quite willing to forgive him the follies of his youth and accept him into their very comfortable fold.
But our article accuses Castoriadis of a more serious betrayal than giving up the life of a militant and seeking above all his professional advancement.
“But the real test of Castoriadis' radicalism had already taken place in the early 80s, when under Reagan's leadership the western bourgeoisie launched a deafening campaign against the military threat of the ‘Evil Empire’ of the USSR in order to justify an armaments drive unprecedented since the second world war. And it was precisely during this period that Castoriadis published his book Facing War where he tried to demonstrate that there was a ‘massive imbalance’ in favour of Russia, ‘a situation that was practically impossible for the Americans to amend’. What's more this ‘analysis" was frequently cited by Marie-France Garaud, an ideologue of the ultra-militarist right and mouthpiece in France for the Reaganite campaigns.
At the end of the 80s, reality demonstrated that Russian military power was actually vastly inferior to that of the US, but this didn't puncture Castoradis' self-importance or silence the journalists' praise for him. Neither was this new. From 1953-4, even before he openly abandoned marxism, Castoriadis developed a whole theory that capitalism had now definitively overcome its economic crisis (see 'The dynamic of capitalism' in SouB 120). We know what happened after this: capitalism's crisis returned with a vengeance in the late 60s. So when a pocket collection (Editions 10/18) of the works of Castoriadis was published in 1973, it missed out certain not very glorious writings, which allowed his friend Edgar Morin to say at the time: ‘Who today can publish without shame, indeed with pride, the texts that marked his political road from 1948 to 1973, if not a rare spirit like Castoriadis?’ (Le Nouvel Observateur)”.
Did Castoriadis openly call for mobilizing workers in defence of ‘western democracy’ against what he called the “stratocracy” of the eastern bloc? In a thread on libcom in 2011, a poster who signs himself ‘Julien Chaulieu’ takes issue with the original post, an account of the life of Castoriadis written by the Anarchist Federation in the UK, which argues that "In his last period, Castoriadis directed himself towards philosophical investigations, to psychoanalysis. In this period, his lack of knowledge of current social events and movements led him towards a tentative defence of the West - because struggle still remained possible within it - against Stalinist imperialism".[35]
Julien Chaulieu replied:
“As somebody who has studied all of his works, alongside with Guy Debord and many anarchists-libertarian socialists, I can confirm that the above statement is utterly wrong.
Castoriadis never defended the west. This was a misunderstanding, based on a propaganda by the Greek Stalinist social-fascist party (Communist Party of Greece). In this interview-video (which is unfortunately only available in Greek) he claims that indeed USSR was oppressive and tyrannical but that doesn't mean we should defend the western capitalist powers which are similarly brutal towards the ‘Third World’. The fact he abandoned typical socialist ideas, moving towards autonomy caused massive reactions to the (CPG).
In this interview he stated the following:
‘The western Societies are not just capitalist societies. If somebody is a Marxist will say that the mode of production in the Western world is capitalist, therefore these societies are capitalist because the mode of production determines everything. But these societies are not only capitalist. They are self-called democracies, (I do not call them democratic because I have a different definition on democracy), I call them liberal oligarchies. But in these societies there is a democratic element which has not been created by capitalism. On the contrary, it has been created in contrast to capitalism. It has been created while Europe was exiting from the Middle Ages and a new social class was being created, the so called middle class (which has nothing to do with the capitalists) and they tried to gain some freedom over the feudals, the kings and the church. This movement is continuing after the Renaissance with the English Revolution in the 17th century, the French and the American Revolutions in the 18th century which resulted to the creation of the labour movement.’
In fact, he appears to be very critical against capitalism, he uncovers the myth of ‘capitalism is the only system that works, the less bad’, the dominant western approach. Nothing pro-capitalist here. On the contrary, he speaks out the truth that has been destroyed by stupid liberals”
But what we really find in this passage, with its hint that there remains a real democratic and extra-capitalist substrate in the western forms of capitalism, and even more so with his alarmist analysis of Russian military strengthis that the later Castoriadis creates a zone of ambiguity which can easily be exploited by the real hawks of capitalist society, even if Castoriadis himself avoids incriminating himself with any explicitly pro-war pronouncements.
Our article could also have added that there is another side to the ‘legacy’ of Castoriadis: he is, in a sense, one of the founding fathers of what we have called the ‘modernist’ current, which is made up of various groups and individuals who claim that they have gone beyond marxism (which, let’s recall, was always to an important extent the version Castoriadis inherited from Trotskyism) but who still consider themselves to be revolutionaries and even communists. Several members of the Situationist international, who tended in this direction, were even members of SouB, but the passing on of this flame is a more general tendency and not dependent on direct physical succession. The Situationists , for example, agreed with Castoriadis about putting forward the slogan of generalised self-management, concurred that the marxist analysis of the economic crisis was old hat, but did not follow him into abandoning the idea of the working class as the motor force of revolution. On the other hand, the main trend of later modernism – which today tends to label itself as the “movement for communisation” – has read its Marx and its Bordiga and is able to show that this notion of self-management is entirely compatible with value relations. But what they do inherit from Castoriadis above all is the abandonment of the working class as the subject of history. And just as Castoriadis’ ‘supercession’ of Marx took him back to Proudhon, so the communisers mighty act of ‘aufhebung’ takes them back to Bakunin, where all classes immolate themselves in the coming grand conflagration. But this is a polemic we will have to take up elsewhere.
C D Ward, December 2017
[2] Chaulieu being a nom de guerre for Cornelius Castoriadis – along with Paul Cardan and others; Montal for Claude Lefort
[3] https://en.internationalism.org/specialtexts/IR072_stinas.htm [59]; https://libcom.org/history/revolutionary-defeatists-greece-world-war-ii-... [85]
[5] See for example this 1945 text: https://www.marxists.org/archive/munis/1945/03/su-tactics.htm [87]
[7] https://libcom.org/library/content-socialism-socialisme-ou-barbarie; [89] https://libcom.org/library/on-the-content-of-socialism-ii-socialisme-ou-... [90] https://libcom.org/library/on-the-content-of-socialism-iii-socialisme-ou... [91]
[9] Pannekoek’s pamphlet was written during the war but published in full in the years that followed. The reference to it by Castoriadis is in https://libcom.org/library/on-the-content-of-socialism-iii-socialisme-ou... [91]
[10] CSII
[11] CSII
[12] chap XLVIII
[13] See our earlier article in this series, https://en.internationalism.org/internationalreview/199401/3589/overthro... [93]
[14] ‘Solidarity, the market and Marx’, available here: https://libcom.org/library/solidarity-market-marx-adam-buick [94]. The text is also interesting in that it welcomes the appearance of new groups like Workers Voice in Liverpool, Internationalism in the US and the London group which, after splitting from solidarity, formed World Revolution, who are much clearer than Solidarity on the content of socialism/communism. What it doesn’t do is take issue with the essentially national conception of socialism contained in CSII – a weakness also that inevitably afflicts the SPGB with their vision of a parliamentary road to socialism. See below.
[15] For ourselves – and we think we are closer to Marx here, even if he much preferred the term ‘communism’ – we take socialism and communism to mean the same thing: a society where wage labour, commodity production and national frontiers have been overcome.
[16] See our article https://en.internationalism.org/internationalreview/201111/4596/post-war... [95]
[17] Capital Vol 1, chapter 1
[18] Interestingly, in a letter to Socialisme ou Barbarie in 1953, Anton Pannekoek already noticed the French group’s restrictive conception of workers’ councils: “While you restrict the activity of these organisms to the organization of labour in the factories after the taking of social power by the workers, we consider them as also being the organisms by means of which the workers will conquer this power” https://www.marxists.org/archive/pannekoe/1953/socialisme-ou-barbarisme.htm [96]
[19] CSII
[21] https://libcom.org/article/unions-against-revolution-g-munis [98]. This text was also published in Internationalism 3 in the early 70s, with an introduction by Judith Allen, ‘Unions and Reformism’. Munis replied to this here; https://www.marxists.org/francais/munis/works/1973/00/munis_19730000.htm [99].
The ‘Second manifesto’ has not been translated into English. A French edition can be found here: https://www.matierevolution.org/spip.php?article3484 [100]
[22] See for example ‘The relations of production in Russia’ https://www.marxists.org/francais/general/castoriadis/works/1949/chaulie... [101]
[23] La société bureaucratique 1: les rapports de production en Russie, editions 10:18, 1973
[24] Parti-Etat, Stalinisme, Révolution, ed Spartacus, 1975
[25]IR 25: ‘The confusions of Fomento Obrero Revolucionario (FOR): on Russia 1917 and Spain 1936 [102]’; IR 52, ‘Where is the FOR going?’
[26] 52
[28] Alarme pamphlet, undated, ‘Fausse Trajectoire de Révolution Internationale’
[32] Curiously, he doesn’t include Marc Chirik in the list, or in the article as a whole, which somewhat deprives him of an important area of investigation. Not only did the discussions between Munis and the Gauche Communiste de France in the late 40s and early 50s play a part in Munis’ break with Trotskyism: we can see throughout the writings of Munis about the economic crisis a continued polemic against the conception of decadence defended by the GCF and later the ICC
Links
[1] https://en.internationalism.org/files/en/ir160.pdf
[2] https://en.internationalism.org/files/en/goldman_timeline.jpg_1000x906_q85_crop_subsampling-2_upscale_0.jpg
[3] https://en.internationalism.org/node/2514
[4] https://en.internationalism.org/international-review/201805/15143/world-bourgeoisie-against-october-revolution
[5] https://en.internationalism.org/node/2636
[6] https://en.internationalism.org/pamphlets/transition
[7] https://en.internationalism.org/node/2649
[8] https://en.internationalism.org/ir/104_kronstadt.html
[9] https://en.internationalism.org/node/3417
[10] https://en.internationalism.org/internationalreview/200806/2481/may-68-and-revolutionary-perspective-part-1-student-movement-around-
[11] https://en.internationalism.org/ir/134/may68-pt2
[12] https://en.internationalism.org/international-review/201804/15129/sinking-economic-crisis
[13] https://en.internationalism.org/international-review/201808/16488/fifty-years-ago-may-68-advances-and-retreats-class-struggle-1968
[14] https://en.internationalism.org/tag/geographical/france
[15] https://en.internationalism.org/tag/28/504/may-68
[16] https://en.internationalism.org/tag/history-workers-movement/1968-may-france
[17] https://en.internationalism.org/ir/066/marc-02
[18] https://libcom.org/library/enrag%C3%A9s-situationists-occupations-movement
[19] https://en.internationalism.org/node/3336
[20] https://en.internationalism.org/internationalreview/201310/9204/report-imperialist-tensions-20th-congress
[21] https://en.internationalism.org/icconline/201805/15136/middle-east-capitalism-growing-threat-humanity
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[65] https://en.internationalism.org/tag/people/mitchell
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[68] https://en.internationalism.org/tag/people/munis
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[81] https://en.internationalism.org/ir/014_terror.html
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[83] https://bataillesocialiste.wordpress.com/pannekoek-1873-1960/
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