Tag Archives: Marx

Wolff in Sheep’s Clothing

by Anne Archist, who apologises for the terrible pun in the title.

Lately I’ve been following Professor Richard D. Wolff’s “online classes” on Marxian economics (I’d recommend that people who follow The Great Unrest should skip over the “intensive introduction” course, because the applied course basically covers the same things anyway, and unless you’ve never encountered Marxist thought before, you’ll probably find he moves slowly a lot of the time even in the latter course).

He’s an interesting figure, and probably one of a handful of Marxists in history to have been educated at Harvard, Stanford and Yale (although he says his teachers, with the exception of one Marxist, never had any interest in or knowledge of Marx’s ideas, and that he essentially studied Marx in his own time). Wolff makes several points that set him apart from standard ‘Marxist’ academics – some of which are more significant or original than others – which I’ll summarise and address here; please do look into his work if you’re interested in hearing his own words or taking the ideas further. A side note: apparently his interpretation of Marx comes via Reading Capital – a book which is only partially available in English, though Wolff is fluent in French, so may have read the original – and many of the following ideas may therefore have come from Althusser or his students, for all I know.

Labour-Centric Analysis

The major point of departure that separates Wolff from a lot of other Marxist theorists or Marxian-influenced economists is that he conceives of class in terms of relations to surplus-labour rather than relations to the means of production. Rather than building up an analysis which includes concepts like the social relations to the means of production, or the labour theory of value, he uses an arguably simpler conceptualisation: “‘productive’ labour is required to live but it also produces a surplus; in our society many people carry out ‘productive’ labour but do not distribute the surplus themselves, allowing those who do distribute it to appropriate a portion of it for themselves without carrying out any labour”.

When I first heard this I thought it was just a strange and idiosyncratic way of explaining classical Marxist economic theory (particularly the critique of ‘bourgeois economics’ in Capital). After thinking about it some more and seeing how the analysis was applied, I realised that it actually has some major conceptual differences (even if they can be shown only to be differences of emphasis or explaining the same thing in different terms, which I’m not sure of). For instance, Marx’s theory of exploitation is generally taken to rest on the labour theory of value, whereas Wolff’s version of exploitation doesn’t even seem to require asking the question of what causes things to have the value they do; this question was a concern for bourgeois economics but shouldn’t necessarily be one for someone criticising capitalism (remember: Capital was Marx’s critique of already-existing economics, not a critique of capitalism).

Another example: the concept of economic democracy is quite widespread among socialists (to the point that Peter Tatchell, who nowadays tends to steer clear of socialistic language, issued a call for economic democracy), but the link between it and the labour-theory-of-value construction of Marxist theory has often been tenuous or indirect; the steps from demands about the distribution of property to demands about economic decision-making processes have rarely been well articulated. Wolff’s presentation of Marx’s argument makes this immediate and obvious – economic democracy is equivalent to the demand that the surplus should be distributed by those who produce it, an issue directly addressed by Wolff’s notion of class.

Exploitation and Surplus Production

According to Wolff, exploitation is merely what happens when one person labours so as to produce a surplus – that is, produces more than the labourer needs to sustain themselves – enough, in fact, to sustain other people too – and someone else appropriates and distributes that surplus rather than the worker distributing it themselves. Exploitation, then, is not about someone receiving more than they have contributed, as Roemer would have it (Roemer has offered different definitions of exploitation, but at least one of them amounts to “consuming more than you produce”). This is important because it heads off a serious problem with Roemer-style definitions, which is that they identify children, disabled people, pensioners and others who do not work as exploiters; on the contrary, Wolff identifies them neither as exploiters nor as exploited.

On Wolff’s view of things, these people are allocated (and consume) a portion of the surplus, but the important factor is not that they are consuming it but that someone else is allocating it. This seems to fit with a relatively superficial and intuitive exploration of human emotional and moral reaction – namely, we begrudge people who take things (that we have not offered) from us and give them to others, even if we believe that the others receiving them should have them. An example: If you were planning on buying someone a book as a present and someone else stole some of your money, bought the book with it, and then gave it to the person, you would be justifiably upset and morally offended by the thief’s behaviour, even though the endgame is the same.

Another advantage of this way of looking at things is that it illustrates an important continuity between capitalists and government officials which is often assumed by Marxists but rarely explained; both take part in the appropriation and distribution of surplus they have not themselves produced. Capitalists appropriate surplus in the form of profit (in fact, capitalists can appropriate surplus without making any profit, since  on Wolff’s view surplus must also be used to pay for ‘unproductive’ labour such as that performed by security guards), and the government (at all levels) makes decisions about taxation and spending which represent a further form of appropriated surplus. The state retains a unique position within the economy, however, in that it is capable of extracting surplus from more than just workers within capitalist relations – as well as ‘productive’ employed workers, it also claims taxes from capitalists, self-employed workers, ‘unproductive’ employed workers, etc.

The Feudal Home

Following on from the above points, Wolff also identifies husbands in the traditional family structure as exploiters within the home (whether or not they are exploited outside the home). Production takes place within the home as well as outside it (for instance, the wife transforms raw food into cooked food), and the wife produces a surplus for the husband (she cooks dinner for both of them, not just herself).  Specifically, he argues that the class structure within the traditional family household is essentially a feudal one, for two reasons.

Firstly,  the wife is not owned by the husband like a slave, does not contract her labour for pay like a capitalist worker, and does not distribute the surplus herself as in the communist and ancient modes. Wolff seems to function on the assumption that there are only five modes of production, so if you eliminate four then whatever you are analysing must be the fifth. Secondly, the marriage ceremony is apparently itself derived from a feudal ceremony in which the serf and the lord pledged to ‘love, honour and obey’ one another (I haven’t been able to verify this, and would be interested to see a source and read more).

Now, personally I’m not entirely convinced by this. That one ceremony grew out of another is an interesting and potentially informative historical fact, but it certainly doesn’t establish that both ceremonies establish the same ‘surplus relations’ (if you’re not convinced by that, consider the fact that Wolff has to refer specifically to “traditional” marriage because other modes of production exist within married households – therefore the exact same ceremony can be used to set up multiple different class structures). As for the other reason Wolff gives, it’s a bit of a stretch to suggest that there can only be the five modes of production that Marx discusses, and even if you do so, you could eliminate feudalism first on the basis that the woman is not ‘tied to the house’, or something similar, and therefore conclude by elimination that it was another mode of production.

The Revolution on the Home Front

I don’t have a concrete suggestion at the moment for what kind of class structure we should consider traditional families to have, but it seems to me that it may be more enlightening to identify it as a patriarchal mode distinct from the others, as some socialist-feminists such as Delphy have done. At any rate we can conclude that the family unit, though it operates in a society we consider to be ‘capitalist’, actually traditionally operates according to another economic model (and very rarely, if ever, operates according to the capitalist one – modern exceptions generally operate on the communist or ‘ancient’ modes). What is of great historical importance regarding this analysis, as far as Wolff is concerned, is not necessarily what the mode of production within the family should be called, but rather that it has changed and is continuing to change.

The ‘traditional’ marriage or family was much more common two centuries ago (though other forms existed even then), but the USA (and many countries) has seen a solid and consistent decline in the number of people living under this kind of arrangement for the last half-century. Some of this has been in the form of rising demands for sharing the burden of housework within marriages, but it has also taken the form of rising numbers of ‘single-person families’, groups of friends sharing houses (and the housework), etc.

In addition to this change, the labour force and the person-hours at the command of the market has swelled with increasing numbers of women who traditionally would not have worked, or would have worked less, or would have been self-employed, etc – this has taken place over a longer period, of course, and is perhaps more of a varied and complex picture, but it is a real change nonetheless. Wolff argues that these changes are important historical shifts – a class revolution, according to Marxian analysis – that have passed the left by, and that the political fallout of this is that the (religious) right have seized on them and used the negative aspects (like increasing levels of social alienation and isolation, or women’s low pay and harassment at work) to push their own agendas.

Immediate Alternatives

What should the left be doing? Wolff is less precise on this point, as are so many academics. His strong point is analysing what has happened and what is happening, not what should happen next. Nevertheless he has some comments on this topic, which tend to contradict or bypass much accepted Marxist doctrine; rather than dealing with demands on the state and suchlike, he harkens back to early socialist and classical Marxist ideas.

The first suggestion is that the left should aim to make explicit to people the class shift that has taken place within the home, and that Marxist theory can understand both what was going on before and what happened to get to where we are now (and perhaps why it happened); this, he argues, would put us in a much stronger position to argue to working women that they should oppose exploitation (in the Wolffian sense) on the job as well as in the home. This would raise class consciousness and have a kind of detoxifying effect concerning people’s fears around Marxist theory and concepts like class struggle or revolution.

Wolff’s other major suggestion is that the left should take a more sustained and pro-active interest in cooperatives (and presumably communes). Rather than seeing a society which has an essentially monolithic capitalist culture and structure, he sees a world in which many class relations co-exist, intertwine, intermingle and contradict either other (such as the working-class husband who is an exploiter at home despite being exploited on the job); therefore he places less of an emphasis on ‘overthrowing’ or ‘abolishing’ capitalism in the sense that is common in the Marxist left today. This also links back to some criticisms he makes of Marxist figureheads such as Lenin and Trotsky with regard to their Marxian economic analysis, which he considers to have been poor at best due to their failure to properly change relations to the surplus (he considers the USSR to have been a kind of state capitalism because the state extracted and distributed surplus in basically the same way as private capitalists do).

A specific consequence of this is that he considers it a high priority to relate to forms of producing (at home and at work, presumably) which avoid the extraction and distribution of the surplus by another party or a minority of producers. His proposals are vague at best, and shouldn’t be taken as a solid political programme, but he seems to suggest that socialists and the labour movement should get behind cooperative enterprises partially for obvious reasons that this would be free of exploitation and show that it is possible to produce without capitalist arrangements and so forth.

An interesting elaboration on his thoughts on cooperatives involves an argument that attributes at least a portion of capitalist hegemony to the extraction of the surplus; specifically, if private companies can extract a surplus from their labourers and accumulate vast amounts of wealth in this way, they gain more control over the media, political campaigns, lobbying, etc. If, on the other hand, workers enter into cooperative enterprises and deny capitalists this surplus, that surplus stays within the working class, both diminishing the wealth available to the capitalists to carry out a programme of class struggle against workers and increasing the wealth available to the workers to carry out a programme of class struggle against capitalists.


In short, Wolff has some original ideas, an interesting spin on old ideas and some interesting analysis gained by applying old methods to current and historical events. I’d recommend that people interested in Marxist class analysis, whether or not you are a Marxist yourself, take a look at him and his interpretation of Marx. It’s certainly made me re-think my understanding of Marxian economics and given me a useful new tool to my belt of Marxian interpretations, analyses and concepts.

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Filed under Economics, Liberation issues, Marxism, Political Strategy, Reviews, Uncategorized

Marx doesn’t have all the answers

by Anne Archist

There is a tendency on the left towards reductive theories and models; this is most pronounced in Marxism, versions of which often place massive emphasis on the development of technology, or imbue one form of oppression with strategic and ontological primacy, etc. Other ideas that can be strictly or broadly said to be on the ‘left’ are guilty of this on occasion too, to varying ideas – some anarchists are highly materialist, some feminists think that the lot of women in life can be understood from the standpoint of one particular factor such as the belief that women are made vulnerable by their potential for pregnancy, or whatever it may be. In this post I’ll talk specifically about Marxism, although much of it is applicable to other movements and theories to some extent.

This kind of analysis leaves much to be desired, however, as it lacks the subtle nuances and detailed models that have been developed often within liberal discourse. Materialist analysis should not be based on totally superseding the pre-existing explanations we have available, but on correcting, refining and supplementing them as appropriate. Obviously large sections of liberal theory are ‘ideological’ in the Marxist sense – they are flawed ways of understanding the world perpetuated because they serve certain interests and perhaps contain some ‘partial truth’ or ‘mirror’ something real.

But this approach of throwing the baby out with the bathwater is a totally unjustifiable approach that it itself ideological – it begins with the true proposition that liberal theory is flawed, and promotes the myth that Marxism is holistic and ‘scientific’ and so can explain everything. It is important to note that this approach is not that taken by Marx himself or people like Althusser, Cohen or Gramsci. For these theorists, the method was to adjust and expand prior ideas about the world; Marx began with classical economics and produced his own take on it while later writers aimed to expand the scope of Marx’s methods, refine his claims to render them consistent, etc.

There are often things to be learnt from non-materialist analysis and disciplines other than history or economics. It is interesting to note, for instance, how few Marxists seem to take social psychology seriously, despite the fact that it has provided a great deal of insight into the (re)production of racism in society, military discipline and other forms of proletarian obedience, etc. Another example is the distaste of some Marxists towards philosophy (and particularly logic) as if philosophers expected to be able to explain the whole world from the comfort of their armchair; I have heard people seriously express the notion that logic is bourgeois and is the philosophical antithesis of materialism, an idea which is totally wrong-headed to say the least.

If we want to understand the world in order to change it, we will need to keep our minds open about different disciplines, theories, models and propositions. The world cannot be changed by someone who understands only economics and has no concept of history outside of this. The world cannot be changed by someone who understands only history and has no notion of the complexities involved in ‘democracy’ as a concept and a goal. Any revolutionary or even reformist ‘progressive’ movement must be polymathic if it is to achieve its goals; we have to be able, for instance, to look at the social-psychological, philosophical, historical, economic, political and practical aspects of a question like how to achieve industrial democracy.

If we’re blind to the dangers and flaws of our strategies then we will screw up all over again, just as many movements have in the past. The failure of the USSR or Cuba cannot be put down solely to grand historical factors like the Cold War, however vital these are to understanding the context in which they existed and the pressures that shaped them. They took the shapes they did partly also as a result of decisions that were made by individuals and groups – decisions that may have been influenced by individuals personalities, incorrect theories or predictions, one-off historical events, logical fallacies, and conformity or fear.


Filed under Marxism, Philosophy, Political Strategy, Uncategorized

More on Marxism and Anarchism

by Anne Archist

EDIT: This is a response to Daniel Morley’s article on Marxist and anarchist theory.  I originally accused Daniel of purposefully ignoring several points I made in a debate we had on this topic, since I discovered the article afterwards, published on the ‘in defence of Marxism’ website; I was under the impression that he was being purposefully misleading. I’ve since discovered that it was published at an earlier date on the Socialist Appeal website, so I’ve edited out some of my criticisms of him here, but this still raises the question of why he allowed the article to be republished after the debate without modification. Unfortunately there isn’t a comments form on either website, so I’ve decided to write a rebuttal here rather than being able to respond directly. I wish I had more time to edit this, and maybe I will edit it further at a later point.


Firstly, Daniel says that “Anarchism paradoxically rejects theory as an accomplice of intellectual elitism or armchair inaction”. Well, to the extent that Anarchist theory rejects theory, that is indeed inconsistent (not paradoxical, though); however, quite why materialist Social Anarchism is being accused of rejecting theory is beyond me. There are indeed some people who call themselves Anarchists and reject the importance of theory, just as there are some people who call themselves Anarchists and embrace the free market as the solution to life’s woes.

What Daniel is doing here is equivocating between different tendencies within the broad label of “Anarchist” (seemingly based only on who self-describes as such, rather than any objective criterion in their theory); this is like comparing Socialist Appeal to the Red Army Faction – they may both call themselves “Marxist”, but that doesn’t mean it’s appropriate to assume they share the same theoretical basis. Just as not all Marxists endorse terrorism, nor do all Anarchists reject theory. Marxist comrades should be clear about who they’re criticising when they polemicise against “Anarchism” as if it were one homogeneous movement or body of theory: Materialist, class-struggle Anarchist Communists? Idealist, individualist Anarcho-Capitalists? Anarcho-primitivist survivalists? All of these? None?

In fact, given that Daniel goes on to quote Kropotkin, a geographer and biologist who wrote Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution (attempting to give a scientific grounding in evolutionary theory to socialistic impulses) and a Secretary of the Russian Geographical Society. Even his books on politics are highly scientific, with lengthy discussions of crop yields: to suggest both that modern Anarchist theory is based on Kropotkin’s work and that it rejects “theory” and “science” is bizarre, to say the least.


Daniel also says that “Marxist theory is chiefly concerned with understanding inequality and oppression”, which is odd, because I’ve yet to hear a prominent Marxist theorist express any concerns about inequality per se. Here’s what Marx had to say on the matter: “unequal individuals (and they would not be different individuals if they were not unequal) are measurable only by an equal standard insofar as they are brought under an equal point of view, are taken from one definite side only … and nothing more is seen in them, everything else being ignored.” I don’t want to talk too much about the flaws on the Marxist side of the piece, but this does seem like a particularly simplistic version of Marxism, and one that appears calculated to refute the perception that Anarchism has historically been more directly and supportively engaged in the struggles of women, queer people, etc.

Technocrats vs workers

Next, Daniel misrepresents Kropotkin on several counts. He says that Kropotkin feared a class divide between “technocrats” and workers but suggests that the basis for this was an assumption that production “would be too complex for workers to get their head[sic] around”. Of course, Kropotkin never made such a crass and patronising assumption about the intellect of the average worker; on the contrary, he praised the genius of workers in early industrial society and said that it was in fact greater than that of professional scientists, giving examples of workers who revolutionised production processes in order to make their own jobs easier, etc.

What Kropotkin feared was a society that continued to divide and specialise labour – a society in which certain people would be entrusted with the technical skills and knowledge that society required, rather than such knowledge being freely available and technical training being an integral part of even the most basic work, which would help to revolutionise production further. In short, Kropotkin argued the (materialist) point that superstructures arise on the basis of relations of productions and that therefore the question of division of labour within society was a politically significant question because it was a question of what social relations should exist – would there be a divide between technicians and scientists on the one hand and manual drones on the other, or would knowledge be disseminated freely and in abundance? His argument here is a polemic against the socialists of his day who wanted to preserve a Fordist-style division of labour, warning that this laid the economic foundations for a new class structure.

In fact, Daniel explains this point quite clearly, though not in as much detail as I have. What he doesn’t do is attribute it to Kropotkin – instead, he asserts that Kropotkin “has the whole thing on its head”, using only a quote about Collectivism as evidence. But anyone who’s read Kropotkin’s passages on Collectivism properly knows that when he says Collectivism, it means something specific. It doesn’t mean “collective ownership and control of the means of production”, as Daniel implies, but rather a specific form of distribution of the means of consumption, i.e. the goods produced. You can find a brief passage about this here that might put it into a better context.

Localism vs centralism

The next section focuses on localism, somehow concluding that primitive societies have no class structure “thanks to their internal … unity”. This is a pretty non-materialist explanation if ever I saw one (and quite probably circular from a materialist point of view) but that’s incidental. What is important is that Daniel gives no gloss of what Kropotkin might mean when he encourages localism, but simply puts the word in his mouth and then describes competition between factories in the USSR. Localism, he says, was the cause of Stalinism. This claim isn’t really explained, however, unless we assume that Kropotkin’s “localism” is something that allows, nay encourages, competition in a market between different individual factories.

But again, it seems that Daniel’s grasp of the concept of Collectivism is letting him down here. Anyone who understands the importance of the critiques of Collectivism in Kropotkin’s work knows that he argued stridently against the idea that a revolution should preserve markets and commodity exchange in the form we know them. To lay hands on the means of production collectively is not enough, he pointed out, if we continue to produce goods for sale on a market in competition with other workers; cooperation, not competition, is the order of the day.

I think Daniel has similarly misunderstood the meaning and importance of localism in Kropotkin’s theory. Localism for Kropotkin was not a way of just dividing up the pre-existing geography of production, but rather an acknowledgement that that geography should be altered. Localism in Kropotkin’s work was about self-sufficiency and efficiency, about local areas producing for their own needs rather than shipping goods halfway around the world. Each individual town would begin to grow more of its own food, each village would integrate better technology into their agricultural practice, etc.

It becomes pretty clear that Kropotkin’s localism is not what Daniel’s representing it to be when we consider that major discussions of “decentralisation of industry” are focused on international trade and division of labour under capitalism, the efficiency gains to be made by local production, etc. On the other hand they have little, if anything, to say about the governance of local areas. Daniel says that the workers in the USSR were “in reality not autonomous at all, but under the firm control of the market, money and their empty stomachs”. This is exactly Kropotkin’s point – we will be under the control of these things unless we take control of them first by reorganising production and distribution.

Bakunin’s prediction

Lastly, Daniel’s comparison of Bakunin’s theory to a “stopped clock” is frankly ridiculous – he didn’t say simply that state oppression would exist in the future, or that state oppression was inevitable. He said that state oppression would continue to exist on the basis of contemporary Marxists’ schemas for organising the revolution and the society that was born out of it. He wasn’t right about Stalinism simply through chance, and to suggest that he was merely bleating the same defeatist tune at everyone is churlish. Many other people made the same prediction for similar reasons – Nietzsche, for one. It’s just too simplistic to dismiss these people as having more luck than theory; in the same article, Daniel refers to Bakunin as a theorist, and then suggests that he had a lack of theory! Presumably this means a lack of the right theory, i.e. he disagreed with Marx. But of course he did – everyone knows this, nobody denies it, and his theory turned out to be vindicated by historical events!


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Anarchism and Marxism: A discussion

by Anne Archist

The following is a very rough transcript of a discussion. I’ve tried to reproduce it as accurately as possible but some sections may be missing and I may have made mistakes at some point along the way. I gave the Anarchism section of the talk, while the Marxism section was given by Daniel Morley. I apologise in particular if I have misrepresented Daniel’s comments in any way. The debate that followed from the floor veered all over the place and plenty of it was off-topic. I haven’t included my contributions to that debate because I couldn’t write and speak at the same time.


The first thing I want to say is that I will be “taking sides”, and specifically I’m going to nail my colours to the mast and say that I’m not interested in any form of Anarchism that is friendly to capitalism. I’m not just fixing definitions to suit myself here; ‘anarchist’ is a label applied to many theories, but this doesn’t show that they share a common theoretical basis. I could argue at length about how so-called “anarcho”-capitalism and social anarchism have nothing in common but this is the Marxist Discussion Group, not the Adam Smith Institute, so I’ll leave it at that and hope that people are satisfied.

I want to start out by giving a brief history of anarchist thought, and though I won’t have time to go into everything, I’m going to focus on a few historically contentious discussions in ways that will hopefully undermine some of the myths spread about anarchists. My view is that anarchists and Marxists have more in common than is generally recognised, and I hope this discussion can help to break down some of the stereotypes and barriers between our traditions.

Much as Marxism was preceded by utopian, idealist and religious socialism of various forms, anarchism’s roots stretch back to Greek and Eastern philosophy. It’s generally considered to have become recognisable in its modern form in the writings of William Godwin, though he apparently drifted away from communism – later editions of ‘Political Justice’ were heavily edited. The first person to self-describe as an anarchist is Proudhon, and the key historical anarchist theorists from today’s point of view are probably Bakunin, Kropotkin, Goldman and Rocker.

Anarchism became an important organised political movement as a faction of the International Working Men’s Association, also known as the First International, founded in 1866. They preferred terms like “federalist” to describe their politics, and were led by Bakunin, though Kropotkin did join the International for a short period. Debates between this trend and the Marxists reached a head at the Hague Congress of 1872, and leading anarchists including Bakunin were expelled.

I want to clear up a few myths about anarchist theory. Despite its predecessors, modern anarchism rests on the same philosophical basis as Marxism – materialism. Bakunin said this in the clearest possible terms: “Undoubtedly the idealists are wrong and the materialists are right.” As for economic analysis, it is often suggested that anarchists have none, or more precisely that they have none of their own. Firstly, I’m not entirely sure why Marxists would consider it a criticism to point out that anarchists agree with the Marxist economic analysis.

Secondly, the idea that they have none at all is quickly disproven by the fact that Bakunin translated Marx’s magnum opus, ‘Capital’, into Russian (to the surprise of Marx, who overestimated the Russian working class’ backwardness); an abridged translation was published in Italian by an anarchist as well. Do we just have to admit we pinched Marx’s ideas, then? Well, no – Marx was heavily influence by Proudhon early in his career, whose book ‘What Is Property?’ was apparently the text that convinced Marx private property must be abolished. Anarchism and Marxism’s contributions to materialist analysis and anti-capitalist economics are intertwined. They form historically and conceptually inseparable parts of a whole – remove Proudhon’s ideas from Marx and you’re left with an economics not far off Adam Smith.

Don’t take it from me, though: “This work became possible only owing to the work of Proudhon himself”, say Marx and Engels in ‘The Holy Family’. They continue later: “Proudhon makes a critical investigation – the first resolute, ruthless, and at the same time scientific investigation – of the basis of political economy, private property. This is the great scientific advance he made, an advance which revolutionizes political economy and for the first time makes a real science of political economy possible.”

Proudhon’s economic theory was limited, but this is understandable given his historical circumstances; he was not a communist, preferring market-based forms of socialism that he believed could usurp capitalism through the development of co-operative industry funded through mutual free credit. This was called mutualism. The idea was – roughly speaking, since I’ve not really read any Proudhon first-hand – that workers could set up banks, creating money to fund the establishment of cooperatives and other workers’ organisations that would compete with the state and capitalist enterprises. A kind of economic dual-power would come about and then capitalism would be surpassed as the collectives would perform better on the market (due to the fact that they were under the control of the people who knew best how to run them, they re-invested money back into the business rather than cream it off in profits, they sold at a lower price, etc).

Later anarchists – those in the First International, for instance – largely sided with Marx’s economic analysis as he moved away from its Proudhonist origins. Bakunin argued that the working class should use a “revolutionary general strike” as the death blow to capitalism, seize the means of production, owning and controlling them collectively. It’s worth spending some time on this question under the current circumstances. In fact, the anarchists were advocating the general strike – and trying to turn it into reality – at a time when Engels was decrying it as unnecessary at best. At worst it was impossible, and most likely it would not result in revolution even if it could be carried out since it targeted individual bourgeois in their roles as employers, rather than the instrument of their class organised as such – the state.

Bakunin’s “federalist” inclinations led him to hold that the question of remuneration for labour was a matter to be decided by individual communities. The question of ownership was settled, but the question of distribution was a subject for experimentation; communities might choose markets with local currency, some form of labour-note based rationing, etc. This theory is generally referred to as anarcho-collectivism, or just collectivism, though distinctions are rarely drawn accurately or consistently from here on in and the term has also been applied to other socialist theories.

Some anarchists consider Bakunin’s ideas as a transitional state that will give way to full communism while others consider it an end in itself (since freedom of migration would allow people to choose which distributive system to live under, etc). Rocker suggests that the economic objectives of mutualism, collectivism, communism, and so on should be considered merely educated guesses at the best way of ensuring a free society, and says that people will likely experiment with different distributive methods.

As I said, the distinctions get less clear from this point, but Kropotkin says: “For the day on which old institutions will fall under the proletarian axe, voices will cry out: “Bread, shelter, ease for all!” And those voices will be listened to… we shall build in the name of Communism and Anarchy.” His point is that basic necessities should immediately be distributed along communist principles and be available to all without any distributive barrier. The key difference, then, is that they are willing to take sides in the debate about distribution – unsurprisingly, these people are called anarchist (or anarcho-) communists.

Kropotkin’s later thought also hinted towards aspects of syndicalism (which is not a specifically anarchist theory but anarcho-syndicalism, the anarchist version, is most common these days). He edited the passage I quoted earlier, to replace the slogan “in demolishing we shall build” with “in building we shall demolish”. This reflected what he felt were lessons learnt from the course of struggle – that simply overturning the status quo without any idea of what should follow it would leave the door open to a restoral of bourgeois order (or perhaps worse).

The syndicalist idea, like mutualism, is a strategy rather than a distributive principle.  It says that some form of industrial union organising can be used in place of a political party in the traditional sense in order to bring about revolution. Syndicalists generally conceive of their task as building organisation in industry either through federating and coordinating pre-existing unions, setting up independent revolutionary unions, or otherwise strengthening the working class’ level of economically-based organisation.

This would then allow them to wage class war using primarily economic weapons such as the strike, and to eventually use general strikes and the seizure of the means of production by force if necessary to effect collectivisation. It’s a common misconception that anarchists, syndicalists, and particularly anarcho-syndicalists, reject political struggle per se, and think that revolution will somehow come about through the economistic development of trade union consciousness.

Rocker, who is often credited as the major anarcho-syndicalist theorist, said: “If Anarcho-Syndicalism nevertheless rejects the participation in the present national parliaments, it is not because they have no sympathy with political struggles in general, but because its adherents are of the opinion that this form of activity is the very weakest and most helpless form of the political struggle for the workers…  Their method is that of direct action in both the economic and political struggle of the time. By direct action they mean every method of the immediate struggle by the workers against economic and political oppression. ”

Rocker goes on to talk about just a few methods of direct action, but makes it clear there are more. The tactic that best represents the relation between economics and politics is probably the social strike; this a strike undertaken with the interests of the whole community in mind, which may include demands such as the lowering of food prices or rent, the provision of services and welfare through employers’ acknowledgement of a “social responsibility”, etc. Similarly, the general strike was used as a weapon by the Chartists in their campaign for enfranchisement – this would presumably be a form of ‘social general strike’.

So that’s a potted history of anarchist theory – there’s a lot more I could go into but I obviously don’t have the time. I hope it’s dispelled a few myths about anarchism: that anarchists don’t have any economic analysis or that they merely piggy-back on Marxism’s in a way that demonstrates a lack of theoretical completeness; that anarchists are idealists, don’t recognise the importance of class struggle, or don’t base themselves in the working class; that anarchists have commonly advocated unrealistic spontaneity or that their strategic and tactical understanding can be reduced to wishful thinking; that anarchists are opposed to organisation; and so forth.

It’s a common misconception on the part of anarchists that Marxists all want to take state power, in their own name and for their own nefarious ends, introducing something akin to the USSR. This is, of course, totally false – take, for instance, the International Communist Group, who say “the revolutionary dictatorship of our class will abolish the state”. On the other hand, it’s a common misconception on the part of Marxists that anarchists all want to live an individualistic utopian existence of utter freedom. This is just as false – Bakunin talks about “the republic as a commune, the republic as a federation, a Socialist and a genuine people’s republic” as “the system of Anarchism.”

So how do I think we should conceptualise the relationship between Marxism and anarchism? Well, I think that there is probably a wider gap between the extremes of those calling themselves Marxists than there is between the average materialist anarchist and the average Trotskyist. We need to pay attention to what people actually think, concretely and specifically, rather than what language they use to describe their ideas. I’d suggest that the types of anarchism I’ve discussed are probably best understood as contributions to the Marxist tradition – historically, philosophically, economically, etc. Obviously though, I’d also go so far as to say that at certain historical periods anarchists have been ahead of more orthodox or mainstream Marxists and that this contribution has been a vital factor in driving Marxism forward.


Marxism and anarchism obviously have a lot in common – they’re both theories that are against all forms of oppression and inequality, and they both aim to create a stateless and classless society in the long run. I think that the Marxist understanding of class society and the state are key to understanding the world around us. They are a theoretical focus that provides us with a guide to action; we can learn things about how to deal with them from the way we analyse and critique them. The first question we should ask is: “what are the origins and effects of oppression?” The history of human society has more or less been a list of oppression in varying different forms. Even today we are still surrounded by inequality – why is this, and why is it allowed to go on when it could be addressed so easily? So many people live below the poverty line while a relatively small number of people own vast fortunes that could easily provide for these people’s needs. Why isn’t this done?

The first antagonism was between man and nature. Human beings are poorly adapted to their environment – we can’t fly, we don’t have poisonous stings, etc. On the other hand, we are dependent on nature for our survival, since it ultimately provides our food, shelter, clothing, and so on. This is the first law of society – that we have to struggle against nature to fulfil our needs. We are materially conditioned by nature, not born free; the idea of people being totally “free” in a state of nature is a myth, because they can never be free from the demands of survival. This leads to a struggle to improve the forces of production in order to improve the conditions of existence.

How did the first state arise? Initially there was no need for a state, no state apparatus. Society was, however, divided into different groups such as tribes; these groups competed against each other in order to control resources, using trade, violence, intimidation, and so on. The struggle was both over nature’s bounty and over the subjugation of others’ labour power in the form of slavery. Often people ask about the nature of the link between this slavery and the establishment of state machinery – did classes come first and necessitate the creation of a state, or did the state come first and facilitate the subjugation of minorities into a different class? This isn’t really important. What matters is that when you strip power of its economic basis it becomes devoid of meaning, it becomes literally incomprehensible. What is the meaning of power free from exploitation of labour, control of resources, etc? Oppressing others for the sake of it is meaningless.

It follows from this that the state is not just an arbitrary evil that we can do away with once we realise its nature. It performs a certain social function – serving class interests – and it preserves the prevailing form of class rule. Marxists think that the proletarian state works in the same way – it defends the revolution by suppressing other classes. Even some anarchists would agree with this in a sense. So why did the state maintain itself historically in situations like in the USSR? What was the economic basis for this?

The USSR couldn’t produce sufficiently. The state can only be done away with once work is no longer a burden, which is brought about by the shortening of the work day due to increased employment and productivity. This allows people to take part in running their own affairs and therefore does away with the need for such centralisation and specialisation of administering society. The division of labour between mental and manual can’t just be wished away, it’s based on class inequality. Kropotkin feared that intellectuals and technicians would form a new ruling class – the division of labour provided the basis for a further class divide. Marxists, on the other hand, would identify this as a symptom of class society instead; it can be done away with as class divides are done away with.

Workers’ control failed in Russia because of the objective conditions, not because of the divide between mental and manual labour creating a new class. The workers weren’t capable of organising production properly and began to collectively exploit each other by charging high prices to other factories for their products. So is federalism or localism an answer, as a way of reducing the complexity of organising production (since each collective would only need to deal with local affairs, etc)? No, in fact the opposite. Russian workers couldn’t handle production because Russia was small and isolated – they needed to rely on a world division of labour.

[Something I didn’t really catch about medieval communes]

Potential exists to raise the standard of living internationally because of capitalism’s development of the productive forces and the process of globalisation. Today we are living in an epoch of revolution – there have been waves of unrest across the Middle East, inspired perhaps by the UK and Greece and so on. We are looking at an emerging world fightback.


T: You spoke about anarchism and Marxism being loose categorisations in terms of theory – I was wondering whether you could talk about the differences in praxis?

D: I think the role of party leadership is to popularise, preserve and develop theory and ideas. This is Marx did. Between the crisis periods he didn’t slog away inside pre-existing parties, he concentrated on developing theory that workers could draw on when they began to organise as a class. The chief problem of any revolutionary party is that there isn’t a revolution most of the time.

D2: The relationship of activists/revolutionaries to the working class is crucial. The other day I saw UKUncut walking through Boots, making a load of noise and so on… They alienated the workers there – I heard the workers complaining about them – and they didn’t really achieve anything. I would say to them that I agree with their aims, but I think they’d achieve a lot more if they went about it by speaking to the workers, making sure that they understand the situation, and encouraging and helping them to organise, because ultimately they’re the ones with the power in this situation. I think there’s a real divide between this – I think it’s called propaganda of the deed – kind of tactic, and the ideas of unionisation, organisation, etc.

L: I think it goes to show how loosely people use the terms these days that UKUncut could be called anarchists, I mean, they’re just not. The term propaganda of the deed comes from the sort of individual terrorism that some anarchists carried out at the end of the 19th century, but even at that time there were other anarchists who were in the International and organising in unions and so on. It’s an outdated idea – nobody really believes in it as a strategy any more – and it doesn’t reflect the greater part of the history of anarchism. It’s not something that has really been endorsed anarchists in the 20th century onwards.

D: This kind of individualism in tactics is based on objective factors like low levels of class struggle; it’s not something that inevitably stems from any theory, and it’s a pitfall that’s common to many theories, so you have groups like the Baader-Meinhof Gang in Germany or the Brigate Rosse in Italy who were ostensibly Marxist groups that followed the same kind of individualistic, conspiratorial terrorist tactics rather than class struggle.  People respond to the objective circumstances they find themselves in and it’s often tempting to think that there is some kind of short-cut to revolution or class-consciousness when you’re in a lull period.

D2: You’re right about the term ‘anarchism’ losing its hard edge. I think maybe a more accurate term to describe these groups would be ‘autonomist’? I just worry that there’s a kind of logical escalation from these sort of publicity stunt tactics to terrorism and violence; they might think “oh well we did this and it didn’t work, so maybe we should try something more extreme, something that’s going to have a more direct effect or get more attention”.

T: I think the problem with trying to forego a party is that it puts the onus on the individual to do everything themselves – if you’re not in an organisation you have to try to educate yourself and so on. And maybe there’s an extent to which people who aren’t in parties treat the whole movement as a party of sorts, so instead of developing ideas and bouncing them off members of the same group, they throw them out to the movement as a whole, and so on…

X: What do people think about the election of Ed Miliband with the unions’ support? Does this provide some kind of possibility for change – I mean, he’s not been very militant so far but maybe knowing that he’s relying on the unions’ backing will motivate him to action.

H: If Ed Miliband was going to do anything, I think he would have done it by now, to be honest. I mean, he’s pretty shit.

X: I was just wondering whether maybe the economic situation made him more timid than he might otherwise be, it’s a difficult situation to be in as a leader.

H: Well, if anything the economic situation gives him more leeway, it should allow him to be more confident because everyone’s so pissed off with the tories.

D2: We have to understand the election of Ed Miliband is part of a dialectical process. He represents a move away from Blairism; the Blairites were literally weeping when it was announced that he had won the election, because they know that it represented a change of direction to some extent. If we keep applying pressure to them then we can force people in positions of leadership to step up to the plate.

D: We shouldn’t be too interested in the personality traits of this or that leader. As Marxists we base ourselves in the working class and the movement, not the figurehead that represents it in Parliament. The election of Ed does demonstrate the strength of the grassroots movement in Labour though – the unions could effectively control Labour if they wanted to, but they’re not exercising that power in a militant way and they won’t do unless their members push them to. Sadly there was no real left candidate in the election – that would have been John McDonnell, but the bureaucracy prevented him from standing – so we’ve got to put demands on the leaders to push them in that direction. Ed should have supported the student demos and he should not just march with us on the 26th but should be at the head of the march, leading it.

M: We shouldn’t underestimate the influence a mass movement can have on the leadership. Look at Chavez, he started off as (D: a follower of Tony Blair)… Yeah, but the movement pushed him to the left.

Y: As Marxists, why are we even talking about change through democratic means? Why are we even discussing the Labour Party, they’re not Marxist, they’re not Socialist and they won’t deliver Socialism. That’s not how it works, we believe in revolution, right?

A: We’re not talking about Labour getting into power to represent us, we’re talking about using Labour to build a mass movement. They are a mass organisation that we can intervene in as part of building the movement for that revolution.

Y: But why Labour? Surely there are better mass organisations?

T: There’s obviously lots of debate over the issue of Labour between Marxists, but ultimately parliament isn’t negligible. The Italian Communist Party for instance came out of the reformist Italian Socialist Party… There is potential to build something better out of it.

A: What better basis is there? I don’t see one. I mean, you can start to ask why should we still be based in the working class – some people influenced by Marxism did this, like Foucault and the Frankfurt School – but if you think the working class are the revolutionary agent then you need to base yourself in its mass organisations.

Y: But I think our key aim is to dispel false consciousness. The most important thing we can do is to make people aware of the extent of exploitation and oppression. They don’t realise how exploited they are, and they don’t realise the limitations of the Labour Party and so on. I worry that this sort of thing just reinforces these illusions.

L: Well, on the point of the Italian Communist Party and so on – building revolutionary parties out of reformist ones – they weren’t built in a party like Labour, and neither were the KPD. They aimed to pull people out of the reformist parties to build a mass movement outside them; that’s not what most socialists do with Labour. They try to fight through it and turn it into something it’s not.

D2: The only other mass party that has been to the left of Labour is the Communist Party, and their membership has fallen massively. Labour is the natural party of the working class. It’s just ultra-leftist and sectarian to try to set up a new party outside of the existing mass party of the class.

L: But wasn’t that exactly what the Third International did? And what about Die Linke in Germany? They’ve been successful following this tactic. I think there is a danger of perpetuating illusions in Labour by remaining in there long-term.

T: We shouldn’t concentrate on the snail’s-pace progress in Labour. We should look to students’ unions and trade unions. It’s dangerous to refuse to work through parliament, because people do actually have a lot of illusions in the real world. They look to parliament, they want to be represented in there. We have to work with people as they are but try to get them out of Labour in the long term.

D: Marx, interestingly, said that the working class could come to power through parliament in Britain. It’s not about putting pressure on the leaders to do this or do that; it’s about building a labour movement. There is no other organisation that can play the same role. How do you build a new mass party? It won’t be us here in this room that do it – it will be the working class. We should participate in the struggle through Labour to gain the ear of the working class. I disagree with the person that spoke before about our task being to dispel false consciousness; the working class don’t suffer from false consciousness, they know that politicians don’t do anything to help them, they know their job is shit and their boss is better off than them for no good reason. They just think that the existing structures serve them better compared to any other option they can see right now. There isn’t real mass participation in Labour, but this is just reflective of the low ebb of class struggle in general. There’s also no real participation in the unions for instance.


Filed under History, Marxism, Philosophy, Political Strategy, Uncategorized

The Return of History

by nineteensixtyseven

The recent issue of the New Left Review contained an interesting paper by Michael Denning, ‘Wageless Life’ which aims to ‘decentre wage labour in our conception of life under capitalism’ by stressing the point that ‘capitalism begins not with the offer of work, but with the imperative to earn a living.’ In other words:

‘Unemployment precedes employment, and the informal economy precedes the formal, both historically and conceptually. We must insist that ‘proletarian’ is not a synonym for ‘wage labourer’ but for dispossession, expropriation and radical dependence on the market. You don’t need a job to be a proletarian: wageless life, not wage labour, is the starting point in understanding the free market.’

‘Proletarianisation’, thus, was a definite historical process which, if we follow E.P. Thompson, disrupted the moral economy of pre-capitalist formations and which has, as Marx put it, ‘pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural superiors”, and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment.”

What caught my attention most, however, was the historical analysis of the construction of ‘unemployment’ as a concept, and especially the comment that the ‘modern notion of unemployment depended on the normalization of employment, the intricate process by which participation in labour markets is made ordinary.’  This was by no means an even process, as a transitional craft consciousness remained as workers struggled against their separation from the means of production and the imposition of more authoritarian forms of socialised factory production on the one hand, and attempted to prevent the entry of unskilled and female workers to the labour market on the other.

The concept of unemployment itself also evolved from a symptom of idleness and individual failure to a more contingent phenomenon to be ‘insured’ against through contributory National Insurance.’ When the Great Depression exposed the limitations of this view it was then reconceptualised in terms of aggregate demand and integrated into the macro-economics of Keynesianism.

It struck me, of course, that this normalization of employment paralleled the normalization of the capitalist mode of production as the ‘natural’ state of affairs.  This, too, was an uneven process as the peasantry clung to pre-capitalist economic relations.  Indeed, upon the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War in 1936 the reaction of peasants in some areas was to insist on the return of 19th communal forestry rights perceived to have been stolen from them in the act of enclosure.

This more generalised normalization of capitalism was reflected in the evolution of economics. The classical economists, including Smith and Marx, were all political economists in the sense that their analysis of ‘economics’ was synthesised with a wider view of society and the line between micro and macro was barely pronounced. Moreover, the classical school was predicated on variations of the labour theory of value, conceiving of value as a creation of production.

The labour theory of value had obvious political connotations and was of course developed into the basis of Marx’s argument for the exploitative nature of capitalism. More fundamentally, Marx exposed the social relations concealed in the commodity and transcended classical political economy by revealing the historical nature of these relations of production. Hilferding expressed the significance of this well in his response to Böhm-Bawerk that ‘the demonstration of the historic transitoriness of bourgeois relationships of production signifies the close of political economy as a bourgeois science and its foundation as a proletarian science.’

For the neoclassical school, however, value was not a product of objective social relations but was subjective in character. That is to say, as Mandel puts it, neoclassical economics and the theory of marginal utiltiy start ‘from individual consumption rather than social production’ and therefore:

‘whereas Marx and the classical economists start from the social character of the act of exchange, and regard exchange value as an objective link between owners (producers) of different commodities, the marginalists start from the individual character of needs, and regard exchange-value as a subjective link between the individual and the thing.’

In other words, the micro-economic and subjectivist starting position of the neo-classical theorists of marginal utility conceals conceals the true nature of the commodity as a product of definite social relations. These relations are presumed a priori and are thereby naturalised. It need not be added that these theorists had no theory of crisis until it took Schumpeter to recognise the systemic nature of capitalist crisis and internalise it as a positive- ‘creative destruction.’

The main issue with the subjectivist turn in economics was that it was essentially static. No system of thought which abstracted itself from the social character of the economy could integrate a conception of development, for history is in essence the product of social agents acting in aggregate. Perhaps this suited the post-1848 generation well, withdrawing to mathematical models in imitation of the fin de siècle retreat into the realm of the unconscious; the Austrian school of Carl Menger sharing a commonality with Vienna’s most famous father of psychoanalysis.

The fundamental point is that history, then and now, is dangerous and that is why the bourgeoisie were so keen to abstract from it or indeed have it declared ‘ended’ with the fall of the Berlin Wall. The knowledge that everything is potentially transitory is the elephant in room for any upholder of the status quo, whether in the 19th century or now.  Simply put, the idea that the current system had a beginning suggests the possibility that it also will end.  The symptoms suggest themselves.  9/11 has confounded the Hegelian unfolding of liberal democracy and September 2008 discredited the purveyors of neoliberalism theology. As Alan Greenspan’s mental universe imploded in front of Congress, commentators grasped around for some historical anchor to prevent them from drowning in the relativistic void resulting from postmodernism’s myopic destruction of the grand narrative.

Humanity faces huge choices as we enter the second decade of the 21st century. Economic and environmental catastrophes are not mere discourses and history has not ended so let us return to a critical engagement with the world around us as a prerequisite for changing it.


Filed under Economics, History, Marxism

A Social-Democratic Rose by any Other Name.

by Anne Archist

It’s a lamentable but long-standing fact that the public will generally lend more support, credibility and attention to a group that has a very straightforward name. The Campaign for Free Education, Stop the War Coalition, and Defend Council Housing are examples of organisations that have taken this principle on board. The General, Municipal, Boilermakers and Allied Trade Union are an organisation that didn’t cotton on, even when they changed their name to just ‘GMB’ – apparently not an initialism, since they seem wary of telling anyone what it actually stands for.

A clear and concise name will give better access to the media (the English Collective of Prostitutes will undoubtedly be asked for comment before the hypothetical United Front Representing Proletarians In Sex Trades by most journalists) and grab the attention of the public. A well-chosen name can also be used to differentiate you from similar groups. Spot the odd one out: the Socialist Party of England and Wales, the Scottish Socialist Party, the Socialist Party of Great Britain, Workers’ Liberty, the Socialist Labour Party, the Socialist Equality Party, the Socialist Workers’ Party.

It was precisely this that formed the fundamental concern of Marx, Engels, Lenin and Trotsky when the issue of party names arose. In the Preface to the 1888 English translation of the Communist Manifesto, Engels writes:

“[W]e could not have called it a Socialist Manifesto. By Socialists, in 1847, were understood… in both cases men outside the working-class movement, and looking rather to the ‘educated’ classes for support. Whatever portion of the working class had become convinced of the insufficiency of mere political revolutions, and had proclaimed the necessity of a total social change, that portion then called itself Communist… Thus, Socialism was, in 1847, a middle-class movement, Communism, a working-class movement… And as our notion, from the very beginning, was that ‘the emancipation of the working class must be the act of the working class itself’, there could be no doubt as to which of the two names we must take.”

Engels’ explanation is that the word ‘Communist’ was chosen to avoid confusion with those who were commonly called Socialists but who did not look to working-class self-emancipation and frequently did not acknowledge the class struggle at all.

In the April Theses, Lenin puts forward three points for immediate action in light of the developments of early 1917. One was “immediate convocation of a Party congress”, the second was “Alteration of the Party Programme”, and the third was “Change of the Party’s name”. On this third point, Lenin writes: “Instead of “Social-Democracy”, whose official leaders throughout the world have betrayed socialism and deserted to the bourgeoisie (the “defencists” and the vacillating “Kautskyites”), we must call ourselves the Communist Party.”

Furthermore, in a Draft Platform for the Proletarian Party, also written in 1917, Lenin reiterates that “We must call ourselves the Communist Party—just as Marx and Engels called themselves”, because “we shall aid and abet that deception if we retain the old and out-of-date Party name, which is as decayed as the Second International”. The deception Lenin speaks of here is the substitution of the short-term ‘Social-Democratic’ goals (a socialist economy and democratic state) with long-term Communist goals (a communist economy and no state). Almost certainly the objective factor in Lenin’s development of the party here is the Provisional Government, which represented Social-Democratic aspirations (at best), and which it was necessary to make propaganda against in order to prevent capitulation to the cabinet that was attempting to sell the revolution short.

Trotsky and contemporaries later resurrected Lenin’s concern over being confused with reactionary leaders. The Manifesto of the Comintern includes the line “Sweeping aside the half-heartedness, lies and corruption of the outlived official Socialist parties, we Communists, united in the Third International, consider ourselves the direct continuators of the heroic endeavours and martyrdom of a long line of revolutionary generations…”

The specific concern here is the inadequate internationalism expressed by the “official Socialist parties” in their attitudes towards the war, etc; the Invitation to the First World Congress states: “During the war and the revolution it became conclusively clear not only that the old socialist and social-democratic parties, and with them the Second International, had become completely bankrupt…”

The same document includes a section on “The Question of Organization and Name of the Party” that further states: “Marx and Engels had already found the name ‘social-democrat’ theoretically incorrect. The shameful collapse of the social-democratic ‘International’ also makes a break on this point necessary.” Of the 39 groups invited to participate, 12 are ‘Communist’, a handful are ‘Social-Democratic’, and a handful are ‘Socialist’ , parties whereas the rest use none of these terms (eg. IWW), are not referred to by name or are invited only in terms of their “left elements”, “the left wing” or “the revolutionary elements”.

The thread running throughout Engels, Lenin and the Comintern’s repudiation of the terms ‘Socialist’ and ‘Social-Democratic’, then, is the danger of being confused with other tendencies that call themselves by the same name. It is presumably in light of this that, now operating within a different recent history, the Trotskyist Left largely fell back to the term ‘Socialist’ as a visible indicator of their break with the official Communist parties while ‘anti-revisionist’ parties continued to call themselves ‘Communist’. It is generally true that ‘Socialist’ will get a foot in the door where ‘Communist’ might get an epithet in the face. Inaccurate and ultimately misleading though it may be, it at least gives a better idea of the principles we adhere to than would any alignment with the legacy of “official” ‘Marxist-Leninism’ as practiced by Stalin, Mao, Castro, etc. On the other hand, Anarchist-Communists have managed to bypass this difficulty to some extent precisely because Anarchist-Communist sounds to many like a paradox, and “contradictions” like this tend to invite paralysis and confusion rather than inflammation.

Existing in a period of relatively low class consciousness as we do, ‘Socialist’ should suffice for now. There is little working-class memory of the betrayals of the second international, and even scanter condemnation of them. A concern that we who call ourselves ‘Socialist’ might want to grapple with, however – when the time comes that “We must call ourselves the Communist Party—just as Marx and Engels called themselves”, will this option be open to us? Or, perhaps more likely, will we have to write “we shall aid and abet that deception [that we stand in the tradition of Stalinism] if we retain the old and out-of-date Party name, which is as decayed as the Third International”?


Filed under Marxism, Philosophy