Showing posts with label Polemic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Polemic. Show all posts

Friday, 28 April 2017

Tom Sibley on the May Days in Spain 1937

Tom Sibley, co-author of Revolutionary Communist at Work: A Political Biography of Bert Ramelson (reviewed here for the LSHG Newsletter by Ian Birchall) has got in touch and offered us an essay on the May Days in Barcelona in 1937. As Tom writes,

'Next week sees the eightieth anniversary of the May Day Events in Barcelona. Most informed people on the left see it as a turning point of the Civil War.  But there are deep divisions of opinion as to what  brought about the"civil war within the civil war" and what sort of  turning point it was.  On this latter question my article argues that  the outcome marked the renewal of the Popular Front and opened up the  only possibility for a Republican victory - eventually denied by the policies (appeasement and the arms embargo) of the Western powers and the contingent military ascendancy of Franco backed as he was by Hitler and Mussolini.'

The LSHG is publishing Tom's essay below as a contribution to the ongoing debate about the May Days and its legacy and we welcome any responses - please contact Keith Flett at the address above.   

The Spanish Civil War - Betrayal in Barcelona
Tom Sibley

In July 1936, international fascism launched a war of intervention against the Spanish people.  Earlier in that year the democratic forces, making up the Popular Front, were elected following a period of extreme right-wing Government in which the fascists played a leading role.  The Popular Front government was initially supported by  the left, including many members of the powerful anarchist movement, and the centrist Republican Party.  It brought forward a progressive programme aimed at democratising and modernising Spain which, at the time, was dominated by the Church, the military and the big landowners and whose industries were often controlled by foreign capital.

The Republican Government’s measures to introduce land reform in order to end widespread and abject poverty in the countryside, educational expansion and change and women’s rights were anathema to the forces of the right.  They were seen to be against the interests of the Church and were presented by the right as the first steps along the road to a communist society.  With anti-communism as its pretext the Spanish military, led by General Franco, launched a military coup in July which was immediately supported with copious supplies of trained troops and modern weaponry by Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy.

Initially Franco’s forces were repulsed in most of the big cities and towns as workers’ militias and armed police loyal to the elected Government came together in defence of the Republic.  Madrid continued to hold firm, thanks mainly to the arrival of modern weaponry from the Soviet Union and the solidarity provided by the thousands of International Brigade volunteers organised by the international communist movement. But in other parts of the country the tide turned quickly as Italian and German forces were deployed.  And the limitations of the badly organised and poorly trained militia were exposed. 

 In the face of overwhelming military force, in the early months of 1937 the Popular Unity movement splintered under the pressure of ultra-leftist adventurism culminating in the tragedy of the Barcelona May Day events, the 80th anniversary of which we mark on 3rd May this year.

The May Day events were one of the most important turning points of the Civil War (1936-1939).  In the middle of a war in which international fascism threatened to overthrow by military force a democratically elected Government, the ultra-left movement which had initially played an important part in resisting Franco’s first offensive turned against the regional government in Catalonia and launched an insurrectionary putsch.  Guns, which should have been at the disposal of forces fighting Franco, were instead turned on the state forces defending the Republic.  The insurrection was instigated by dissident anarchist militias, which had a strong base in Barcelona, encouraged by the Trotskyist influenced POUM which since the beginning of 1937 had been actively and very publicly campaigning for the overthrow of the Popular Front government in Catalonia.

What was the subtext which led to the May uprising and put at risk the whole of the Republican movement’s attempts to withstand the fascist offensive?  The underlying catalyst was the determination of the Republican Government to radically reshape the war effort following months of military setbacks.  This followed widespread demands to incorporate all militia in a national popular army with a unified command.

In Catalonia the Popular Front administration, in the teeth of opposition of both POUM and the local anarchists took measures in line with central government policies.  The Government called on the local militia to surrender their arms and join the national army.  It shut down the local patrol groups controlled by the anarchists and put policing into local government hands.  Catalonia’s important arms industry was nationalised and the Government sought to take over the strategically vital communication centre, the Barcelona telephone exchange, which until 3rd May had been controlled by an anarchist trade union committee.  All of these centralising measures were taken primarily to strengthen the war effort.  But they also threatened to totally undermine what the anarchist and POUMists saw as pillars of their strength, influence and control.  Rather than fall in line, in the interests of boosting the anti-fascist war effort, the ultra-leftists launched an insurrection against the elected government.

The immediate spark for the insurrection was the retaking by the Government of the Telephone Exchange.  The anarchists had used their control of this facility to intercept and disrupt calls between government ministers and military leaders.  This could not be tolerated in a war situation where the country was fighting for its very existence.  Consequently Government ministers ordered the police to take back into state control the telephone exchange.  Unarmed senior police officers were met with a volley of shots and a standoff followed. But the sound of gunfire and the subsequent surrounding of the Exchange by armed police officers was a signal for the anarchist militia to take to the streets, erect barricades, and bring tanks and other armed vehicles into the fray.  In the fighting that ensued in which the rebels were opposed by communist party militia and the Republican Guards, hundreds were killed or maimed.  Catalonian ministers quickly called for Central Government reinforcements and within a few days, encouraged by their national leadership, the local anarchists had laid down their arms.  Throughout the piece the overwhelming majority of Barcelona’s workers had taken Government advice to stay at home.

Eighty years later arguments still appear from both the anti-communist left (sometimes described as the anti-Stalinist left) and the liberal right suggesting that the Barcelona events were provoked by Moscow so as to crush a nascent social revolution.  Such action was necessary, the critics argue, in order to reassure western imperialist powers, with which the Soviet Union was seeking to build an anti-Hitler front, that Republican Spain was not about to usher in communist control under Soviet tutelage.  Some of the commentators also assert that by removing hopes for a fully-fledged socialist revolution the Republican Government destroyed any possibility of a military victory.  Given the balance of political forces both in Spain and internationally these hopes were entirely unrealistic.  In this they partly reflect Orwell’s crass and typically defeatist assessment made in late 1937 that whichever side won the civil war a fascist type regime would be installed in Spain.

What are we to make of these assessments?  Firstly, there is no evidence to back assertions that the Soviets provoked the uprising, as suggested in Ken Loach’s deeply flawed film, “Land and Freedom”.  On the contrary, recently opened archive material shows that the insurrection was planned months in advance and that the dissident anarchists and POUM put their sectarian and disruptive demands above the requirements of the national struggle to defeat fascism. 

In the circumstances of 1937, to call for a full blown socialist uprising would have created deep divisions in the republican movement thereby guaranteeing certain and early victory for the fascist forces.

The Barcelona events were indeed an important turning point but not as some anti-communist and liberal commentators present it.  For there followed a period during which the national Popular Army was transformed into an effective fighting force.  Despite the overwhelming military advantages enjoyed by the fascist enemy and the continuing arms embargo placed on Republican Spain by the Western democracies, the re-organised National Army supported by the International Brigade was able to hold on for a further eighteen months, giving space for Spain’s outstanding socialist prime minister, Negrin, to negotiate for increased international assistance.

The fundamental reasons for the defeat of Spanish democracy were outside the Republic’s control.  Firstly Franco could not have prevailed without the massive military support of the fascist powers.  And Spanish democracy could have survived if Britain, France and the United States had lifted the arms embargo placed on Republican Spain and put diplomatic and economic pressures on the fascist powers to stop their war of intervention.

By May 1937 it was clear to Negrin and the Communist Party, which provided the backbone to his administration, that only the centralising strategy of the Popular Front Government could stop the slide to military defeat, and consolidate the substantial and profoundly democratic changes it had instituted.  These reforms could have rapidly moved Spain from a largely backward, medieval theocracy to an advanced social democracy.  Many on the left saw such developments as important steps on the road to socialism. 


Friday, 8 January 2016

Polemic: Histories of the Present

From London Socialist Historians Group Newsletter # 57 (January 2016)

 Histories of the present

Eric Hobsbawm talked of Marxist historians becoming ‘historians of the present too’ in the 1950s. For those who enthused about ‘actually existing socialism’ in Eastern Europe that was difficult not least because the line about what the history was often changed. More recently the late John Saville advocated a total history approach arguing that you can't understand the world just by studying the working class and the labour movement. There is a need to understand what the other side, the ruling class, is up to and how it interacts with organised labour and the left. His book on 1848 is something of a model for this approach. Below is a much more modest attempt to look at a very recent period of ruling class history and the impact this had on the class struggle.

 Mark Clarke and the Trade Union Reform Campaign: How union activists were bullied

  Tory candidate for Tooting at the 2010 Election Mark Clarke has been excluded from the Tory Party for life following allegations of bullying and the unfortunate death of a Tory activist in September 2015. Mr Clarke has denied the allegations but stories across the media from the Daily Mail to the Guardian continue. Former Tory chair Grant Shapps has been forced resign his Ministerial post for failing to follow up earlier complaints about Clarke. Clarke’s most recent role in the Tory Party was to run the campaign bus in the 2015 Election. The media’s obsession with Jeremy Corbyn has meant that Clarke’s wider background has gone unremarked.

After his failure to win Tooting (Labour’s Sadiq Khan is the MP) Clarke was soon involved in another role. The Trade Union Reform Campaign was launched in late 2011. Clarke was the Chief Executive. Former Tory MP Aidan Burley was briefly associated with it before he got caught up in a story about hiring a Nazi uniform for a stag party. Other Tory MPs were involved, including crucially Tory leader David Cameron. Also in the TURC circle, although not it appears on board with all its ideas, was Harlow MP Robert Halfon, who has featured in the current Clarke media story too. A further TURC officer was Harry Cole, now the Sun’s Westminster correspondent. Some of these were matters were clearly laid out by journalist and union activist Tim Lezard at the time.

The TURC did not play a significant role in the discussion around union rights and the law which culminated in the current Trade Union Bill. Indeed as far as can be seen it has done nothing at all since the autumn of 2013. The date probably relates to the appointment of a QC, Bruce Carr, to lead a review of union activity and the law. The supposed motivation for that was the ‘scandal’ about Unite members and the Labour Party in Falkirk. It may well be that the TURC felt its work was done, or it may be that leading players like Clarke determined that with a General Election coming up their political energies were required elsewhere. In the event, while Carr did produce a report in 2014 he refused to make any recommendations because by this time details of the current TU Bill had been revealed, and he felt his efforts had been undermined it seems.

That might be that, except for one issue. Clarke in particular was obsessed by trade union facility time. His view was that in the public sector union activists should not get any paid time off for union work and that any such activity should be paid for by the trade unions concerned. It is a view which suggests a complete ignorance of how the world of work actually works. Even so Clarke used his media contacts which included Paul Staines who runs the right-wing Guido Fawkes operation to focus on trade union reps with facility time. This was not just a general political campaign. It focused on individuals. Clarke called reps ‘pilgrims’ because his original focus had been a union activist he had come across in Tooting called Jane Pilgrim. The numbers of reps who were focused on was probably quite small but those who were unfortunate enough to come to the attention of Clarke and the TURC might well find themselves the subject of critical articles in papers like the Sun and the Daily Mail. Given the current allegations about Clarke it is perhaps no surprise that the TURC stooped to such unpleasant tactics.

This piece appeared in the Morning Star on 2 December 2015.

Keith Flett

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

A reply to Sheila Cohen by Ian Birchall on Tony Cliff

From LSHG Newsletter # 54 (January 2015)
Class Struggle and Socialism

A reply to Sheila Cohen by Ian Birchall

I am most grateful to Sheila Cohen for the extended review she has written of my biography[i] of Tony Cliff.  That she has devoted so much space to the topic[ii] is a clear indication that she recognises the significance of Cliff’s life and work, and the influence it has had on one of the main currents of the British far left. She has focussed in particular on certain themes in Cliff’s work confronting the relationship between political organisation and working-class struggle. Though she expresses major criticisms of Cliff’s thinking and organisational practice, her articles are an important contribution to an ongoing debate about strategy for the left. My reply, I hope, will not be couched in defensive terms, but will try to contribute constructively to that debate.

I must say that I was therefore a little disappointed at the tone of some her remarks, notably the rather sneering manner in which she refers to Cliff as “our hero” and myself as “the faithful Birchall”.  Irony is like salt; a little enhances flavour, but too much can make a dish inedible. I shall try (perhaps not always successfully) to avoid imitating this tone, and to respond positively to the arguments put forward. And whereas I am referred to in distant/academic style as “Birchall”, I shall call her Sheila, since I know her.

I should add as a preliminary that I believe most people read biographies because they are interested in the subject matter, not in the author. I saw my job as being to establish the facts about Cliff’s life and work, and to draw out the main substance of his political arguments. I don’t think readers would expect me to make constant obtrusive interventions to express my own opinions.

Nonetheless various reviewers have commented on the fact that my account is at times quite critical – Nigel Harris, for example calls it an “unflinching exposure”.[iii] I might add that when I submitted a first draft I confidently expected to be asked to tone down some of the more critical remarks. It is entirely to the credit of the SWP Central Committee (and of Alex Callinicos in particular) that they did not ask me to withdraw any of my criticisms.

Sheila’s main theme is that Cliff and the SWP became increasingly obsessed with “party-building”, and that as a result the organisation “began to depart from its relatively healthy, non-sectarian and workplace-oriented approach”. This point, repeated several times, takes us to the very heart of the question; as she quite rightly observes, “for some of us at least the issue of how socialists relate to the working-class vanguard remains as central as ever”.

The question is clearly posed, and it is one which remains of central relevance for all socialist activists. However, I am less than convinced that Sheila provides an adequate answer to the question.

Socialists welcome and encourage self-organisation and resistance by all oppressed groups in society – ethnic minorities, nationalities, women, gays etc., etc. But socialists, and especially those in the Marxist tradition, have always attributed a particularly important role to the working class. It is the value created by workers’ labour  which enables capitalism to exist as a system; workers engaged in collective production offer the potential for an alternative organisation of society. Hence, for example, Lenin argued that “Every strike brings thoughts of socialism very forcibly to the worker’s mind.”[iv]

I don’t think Sheila disagrees with this. But having read her review and various of her other writings, I am still genuinely confused as to how she perceives the question of socialist organisation. There are at least four possible answers:

i.       There is no need for socialist organisation. Working people will carry through the transition to a socialist society through their own spontaneous self-activity.

ii.      Trade-union organisation will carry through the transition to socialism as well as engaging in the day-to-day defence of workers’ conditions. This is of course the classic syndicalist position whose weaknesses were revealed by the First World War, but which still survives.

iii.     A socialist organisation will be necessary at some point in the future, but we’ve a long way to go before we get there, so we don’t need to discuss it at present.

iv.     We do need a socialist organisation, but it needs to be radically different from the model offered by the SWP.
         
Sheila repeatedly accuses the SWP of “sectarianism” and suggests that this flows from Cliff’s preoccupation with party-building. Now I would certainly not want to claim that there are no examples of SWP members acting in a stupid or sectarian fashion – I am sure there are plenty. But I would not accept that such sectarianism was systematic. I think the SWP’s relative success (relative within the context of the far left) in recruitment in the 1970s and 1980s could not be explained if the SWP was consistently sectarian. When I used to travel around the country speaking to SWP branches I would frequently ask members I met when and why they had joined. Frequently the answer was a reference to a major campaign – ANL, miners’ strike, poll tax etc. People had become involved in struggles against racism and war, and for workers’ rights – and had been attracted to the SWP because they were perceived as among the best fighters in the campaign. People do not join an organisation whose only concern is to build itself.

I should add that my argument here refers to the period covered in my book, up to Cliff’s death in 2000.  I am no longer a member of the SWP and I do not want to comment here on the post-Cliff SWP. I have written another piece on this question, which anyone interested can consult at http://grimanddim.org/political-writings/2014-so-sad/

In similar vein Sheila writes: “In 1995, again at Marxism, Cliff backflipped once more; lecturing on Engels, he ‘drew out’ what Birchall describes as a ‘fundamental point’, viz that ‘the whole history of Marxism was about learning from the working class.’ Even more bizarrely, he ended his speech by fulminating against what had in effect been his own long-term practice: ‘I can never understand the idea…that the party teaches the class. What the hell is the party?...The dialectic means there is a two-way street…’

Here I think she is plain wrong. The idea that the revolutionary party must learn from the class and generalise from the experience of workers is a constant theme in Cliff’s work, from the early essay on Substitutionism through the biography of Lenin up to the last articles in Marxism at the Millennium.[v]  I could illustrate with quotations, but it might be wearisome. A careful reading of my book would prove the point.

Likewise Sheila repeatedly mocks Cliff’s “obsession with numbers”. But she fails to notice or comment on the explanation I give. (pp.84, 413) Cliff’s experience in the 1930s and the whole experience of the left in this period illustrates the simple fact that the best political programme in the world is useless if it does not have the social forces to fight for its implementation. To take the most obvious and tragic example:  Trotsky was absolutely correct to argue that a united front could have prevented Hitler’s accession to power. But the tiny forces of the Trotskyists were quite unable to do more than to put this forward as a propaganda point. The consequences we all know. 

Cliff’s “obsessions” were no more than a recognition that in order to achieve their goals socialists need to be organised. That imperative runs through all his writing, speaking and political activity, and explains why he inspired so many to commit themselves to the socialist cause. Of course his judgments may have been mistaken and they deserve to be subjected to rigorous criticism.  But I remain unconvinced that Sheila offers any viable alternative.

Thus she tells us that “Cliff appears to have lost, or at least severely damaged, his antennae regarding the significance of workplace struggle: ‘When a German comrade told how they had set up a regular informal meeting for contacts from a factory, Cliff…shouted that most people were attracted by revolutionary ideas, not by discussion about the workplace’ (p. 407). Hmmm – no dialectical relationship between the two, then?”

Sheila’s indignation here seems unnecessary. Most workplaces are not in a state of permanent confrontation. Workers have grievances, and often they will elect militants to represent them because they want someone who will stand up to management. But when a strike is not imminent, discussion of these issues can easily become tedious. All Cliff was saying is that to maintain a workplace discussion group, exciting and interesting ideas are necessary, and generally these will not be generated inside the workplace. As far the “dialectical relationship” between the workplace and general politics, I think Cliff understood it far better than Sheila, for whom the latter seems to remain something extremely vague.

Likewise Sheila points to what she calls “the central paradox typifying so many ‘revolutionaries’; that the class, and the society, closest (at least potentially) to their own daily experience appears as the least significant. Like the US SWP member disseminating pro-Cuban propaganda in the aisles of an assembly plant, the more exotic and less relevant the more worthy of concentrated ‘revolutionary’ effort.”

Now I have no particular sympathy for the  US SWP (no connection to the British SWP) and I don’t share their enthusiasm for the Cuban regime. But if it were indeed true that a socialist society were being built in a neighbouring country, might that not be very “relevant” to US workers as showing an alternative to the alienation and exploitation they suffered? Does Sheila think British (or French, German, Italian, American, etc.) workers in the early 1920s who were fired with enthusiasm for the Russian Revolution should have disregarded such an “exotic” topic in favour of an exclusive preoccupation with their own wages and conditions? Was Eugene Debs capitulating to “exoticism” when he declared ““From the crown of my head to the soles of my feet I am Bolshevik, and proud of it”? Should he have forgotten Russia and concentrated on workers’ “daily experience”? I think it is Sheila who is in danger of forgetting the “dialectical relationship” between workplace struggle and general politics.

Sheila refers to the major dispute inside the International Socialists in 1975, where “The issue was the refusal of IS engineering union members to put forward an IS candidate for a union post, instead supporting the existing Broad Left (aka CP) candidate. Rather than understanding and commending these activists’ informed choice, IS expelled the dissident engineering workers.”

Now as I make clear in my book, I think there is reason to believe that this affair was handled badly and that the losses could have been minimised. Nonetheless it is clear that Sheila has not read my account carefully enough. (pp. 403-4) This was not simply a dispute between the “leadership” and “IS engineering union members”. It was a disagreement between different groups of engineering workers in IS, some of whom supported the Broad Left candidate, and some of whom (in fact the majority at a fraction meeting) backed an independent candidate. Perhaps if she thinks about it a little, instead of trying to score instant points, Sheila will realise there is a real problem here. Different activists were making different choices, presumably “informed” in all cases.

So what should happen? Should different members have been allowed to go their own way, arguing different positions? In which case it would have been very difficult for other people to work with IS, since they would never know what the organisation’s policy was. Or should comrades have agreed to accept a majority position, so that IS could have a consistent stance in the eyes of the world?  I’m quite happy to accept the argument that much greater efforts should have been made to achieve a compromise, but there was a real problem, and I don’t think Sheila enhances her credibility by refusing to recognise this.
And when Sheila refers to “the SWP’s rapid progression to a form of Leninist Stalinism” it is hard to take her seriously. The phrase “Leninist Stalinism” seems to imply a continuity between Lenin and Stalin, but that is another argument. It is certainly possible to argue that internal democracy in the IS/SWP has sometimes been deficient, with the organisation prioritising intervention in the external world over adequate internal discussion. But the term “Stalinism” takes us into a different universe. It trivialises the very real historical crimes of Stalinism, and suggests that Sheila has very little understanding of how Stalinist parties used to operate. That the “demonstration” of this was a debate (in public) at Marxism, in which Cliff spoke against the allegedly “Stalinist” position (pp. 493-4) merely underlines the fragility of Sheila’s argument.

Sheila tells us that “the mid-1970s were the beginning of the end, if not of workplace struggle then of IS’s primary orientation towards that dynamic”.  It was hardly the fault of the growing numbers of unemployed that they no longer had a workplace to orient to. Young jobless, potentially the most militant, had often never been employed and therefore were not eligible for union membership. Yet Sheila deplores the setting up of the “Right to Work Campaign – addressed at unemployed workers rather than employed activists - complete with a Right to Work march, mass rallies and all.”

In fact Sheila doesn’t seem to have read my account of the Right to Work Campaign. It was not addressed solely at unemployed workers, but aimed to achieve unity between employed and unemployed. The first Right to Work march in spring 1976 was sponsored by over four hundred trade-union bodies, including seventy shop stewards’ committees. Marchers joined picket lines and even entered factories where sackings were being threatened in order to encourage workers to fight. This was very different from the “hunger marches” of the twenties and thirties,  which had great difficulty in making contact with employed trade unionists, and scarcely ever entered workplaces. (p. 409)

Likewise Sheila dismisses the Anti-Nazi League: “Worse was to come – or at least more moves away from any primary class orientation.” Presumably Sheila recognises that racism is a class issue, and that racism is a fearsome obstacle to united action by workers. The ANL was not a move away from class; indeed, a lot of the ANL’s activity was aimed at winning support in labour movement organisations. But it also involved a recognition of something that Sheila, with her relentless focus on the workplace, seems to forget: workers (happily) do not spend their entire lives in the workplace, they also watch sport and listen to music, among many other activities. Hence an imaginative use of cultural struggle could be more effective than handing out dreary anti-racist leaflets at the factory gate.

Sheila describes both the ANL and Rock Against Racism as “popular fronts”.  I was a little surprised by this, as this particular criticism generally emanates from the more dogmatic groupings of orthodox Trotskyists, and whatever else Sheila may be, I had never thought of her as an orthodox Trotskyist. In any case she seems to have missed my footnote (p. 421), where I make the historical point that “The Popular Fronts of the 1930s involved alliances with the political organisations of the bourgeoisie. The ANL contained people from a range of political positions, including some who were undoubtedly wealthy, but not the direct political representatives of the ruling class.”

Sheila also notes the involvement of Neil Kinnock in the ANL. She simply comments “!?!”. I’m not quite sure what the political significance of these punctuation marks is, but it seems to indicate disapproval. In 1978 Kinnock was a young MP on the left of the Labour Party; he was also a fluent and well-liked speaker. His many betrayals were still far in the future, as was his oratorical incoherence, which grew ever more disastrous as the responsibility of imagined future office weighed more heavily on his shoulders.

On what possible grounds could he have been excluded from the ANL? And if he had been, what message would it have sent to the thousands of left-wing Labour supporters who could be potentially involved in the ANL?  Once again Sheila has allowed the temptation of point-scoring to prevent her from thinking through the logic of her arguments.

Sheila’s other main complaint against the SWP, and Cliff in particular, concerns the “downturn” in struggle which Cliff started to analyse in 1978-79. She does not, apparently, disagree that there has been a downturn – indeed the decline in the level of industrial struggle since the 1970s is self-evident, and the “downturn” has lasted very much longer than Cliff ever expected. Her disagreement is more specific, and concerns mainly the analysis of the late seventies.

Thus she tells us that Cliff’s analysis is contradicted by “the biggest strike revolt (in terms of working days lost) of British history – the Winter of Discontent”, and even refers to “the quasi-revolutionary potential of the Winter”.

Now I am not an expert in industrial relations, but I have always understood that crude figures for days lost (or as Cliff always insisted “gained”) in strike action are not the most reliable indicator of the level of struggle. A quick victory involves far fewer strike-days than a long drawn-out defeat. (Miners were on strike for far more days in 1984-85 than in 1972 or 1974 – but they lost.)

In fact Cliff’s analysis of the downturn was set out in his article “The Balance of Class Forces in Recent Years”. Sheila does not appear to have consulted this, although it is available online.[vi] As I summarise in my book, Cliff did not confine himself to mere statistical arguments:

“…he allowed workers to speak for themselves. The article contained lengthy extracts from accounts written by militants and activists in the SWP …. Though …. he used statistics and graphs to support his argument, he also made a devastating critique of the inadequacy of official statistics. For example, these did not record occupations and political strikes, and did not distinguish between strikes and lockouts. He noted that there was ‘often an inverse relation between growth of union membership and the strength of shop organisation’. He drew on research by Dave Beecham on over 1,000 disputes in the period from 1977 to 1979. But his use of accounts by individual workers enabled him to give a picture of the total experience of workers.” (pp. 443-4)

A debate is always most informative and useful if one takes on one’s opponents at their strongest point rather than their weakest. If Sheila has taken on Cliff’s arguments in “The Balance of Class Forces in Recent Years” it would have been much more illuminating than the simple scoring of some rather flippant points.

Thus Sheila claims that the SWP “leadership seemed to be blind to” the potential of the Winter of Discontent.  Again she fails to justify this claim. She might well have done a little research, examining the issues of Socialist Worker for early 1979. Failing that she might at least have read my account of the period, which, like so much else in the book she is supposedly reviewing, she seems to have skipped:

During the “winter of discontent” Socialist Worker had hailed the revival of struggle. A front-page headline proclaimed that “1979 is the year to win”,[vii] and an editorial stated that “we are witnessing the beginning of a new period of confrontation between workers and government, and between pickets and the law, of the sort that took place between 1969 and 1974,” though recognising that “there are important limitations to the present movement”.[viii]  (p. 441, see also pp. 435-6)

When Sheila refers to “the ‘dual power’ nature of some sections of this nationwide strike wave” I think she is living in a fantasy world, but there were certainly elements of workers’ control which emerged in the strikes. I quote Paul Foot’s comments on this. (p. 436)  (Interestingly Sheila is derisive about my claim that “unofficial strikes were symptoms of an aspiration for workers’ control” in an earlier period. (p. 261) )

However it is hard to endorse Sheila’s claim that “trade unionism was at a historic high in 1979-80”.  The contrast with the events of 1972-1974 is visible. In 1972 over ten thousand engineering workers joined miners at the Saltley picket and the government was left with no alternative but to surrender. Later that year mass action in support of the five jailed dockers forced a head-on confrontation with the law courts and the government, and again the state had to back off. (I remember seeing the release of the dockers on the television in a pub in Hull – never in my entire life before or since have I had quite that sense that “our side” had won a victory.) And in 1974 strike action by miners led to the fall of Heath’s Tory government. Unfortunately nothing in 1979 revealed a similar level of struggle.

Sheila quotes Rosa Luxemburg as arguing that working-class consciousness “does not proceed in a beautiful straight line but in a lightning-like zigzag”.  Absolutely. But if our aim is, as Sheila correctly recommends, “noting and building on existing working-class struggles”, then we cannot sit back and watch the lightning; we have to attempt to estimate how consciousness will develop, so that we can relate to it. And that means attempting to predict. Sheila repeatedly mocks Cliff’s predictions, but unfortunately any form of action requires prediction. The important thing is to be flexible, so that when predictions prove inaccurate, we are able to correct our tactics as quickly as possible.
So Sheila notes sardonically that in 1975 “IS insisted on ‘pessimism of the will’; a 1975 conference document argued gloomily, ‘We underestimated the speed with which the economic crisis would drive workers to draw political conclusions’.” (Actually the document stated “overestimated”, not “underestimated” – otherwise Sheila’s observation would not make sense. (p.376) ) But clearly this was an adjustment of perspective based on a recognition of the uneven development of consciousness. Why Sheila finds this so lamentable, and what her alternative (short of always being right in the first place) would have been are not at all clear to me.

And Sheila does a serious injustice to Steve Jefferys. She alleges that he “resigned as industrial organiser, not in protest against the strategic confusion but because ‘The decay of working-class organisation and the shift to the right in the trade union movement has gone so far that all we can do in this period is to make socialist propaganda as actively as possible’.” In her haste to score a point she has skipped a line; this was emphatically not Jefferys’s view, but rather the position he (somewhat polemically) attributed to Cliff, and with which he disagreed sharply. (p. 437)

Finally, what is the alternative? What is the better path that Cliff and the SWP should have followed? With true proselytising zeal Sheila leaves us in no doubt – repeatedly she invokes the American publication and organisation Labor Notes. Now I know relatively little about Labor Notes. As Sheila points out, it is not in the index of my book –  because I saw my subject as being what Cliff said and did, not what he ought to have done.

I have tried to remedy my culpable ignorance by consulting the Labor Notes website.[ix] I have also read a fascinating interview with Kim Moody[x] (this was published in International Socialism, the journal of the SWP, perhaps suggesting that the SWP is not quite so sectarian as Sheila claims). Kim gives a wide-ranging account of industrial and political struggles in the United States.  I get the impression that Kim is rather less of an “unrepentant workerist” than Sheila. Thus he tells how Labor Notes supported the Nader presidential campaign in 2000, and attempted to relate to the effort in the 1990s to set up a “Labor Party”. He explains how environmentalism,  abortion and gay marriage have become important issues for trade unionists.

Obviously the work being done by Labor Notes is valuable and is to be commended. But I am left with a problem. The Labor Notes website gives us this account of the organisation’s activities:

“Labor Notes is a media and organizing project that has been the voice of union activists who want to put the movement back in the Labor movement since 1979.

“Through our magazine, website, books, conferences and workshops, we promote organizing, aggressive strategies to fight concessions, alliances with workers’ centers, and unions that are run by their members.

“Labor Notes is also a network of rank-and-file members, local union leaders, and Labor activists who know the Labor movement is worth fighting for. We encourage connections between workers in different unions, workers centers, communities, industries, and countries to strengthen the movement—from the bottom up.

“That movement is needed because workers are being hit hard by their employers. We have lower real wages, less job security, and smaller, weaker unions than our mothers and fathers did.
“With more than 30 years of movement building behind us, Labor Notes exists as a resource for leaders and union members who want to combat these trends and chart a new course for the Labor movement.”

Now these are thoroughly commendable activities, and any socialist should be happy to support them. But there is a substantial gap in this statement of aims. While it unambiguously sides with workers against employers, it does not actually challenge the property relations which lie behind the conflict. It would be quite possible to support Labor Notes while having no objection to the existing ownership of the means of production, but simply thinking workers should have a bigger share of the cake. In short the word socialism is conspicuous by its absence.

Kim confirms this in the interview: “Most of us started with the International Socialists at that time, but the idea was that it would not be controlled by the organisation and that it would be independent, which is what by and large has happened, although the staff tend to be socialist for the most part.”

Now I am not trying to score points here. Because of the cold war experience communism, Marxism and socialism have been completely marginalised in the United States, and I appreciate that using the term might be seen as a barrier in some circumstances. And I am sure the Labor Notes staff are totally honest; if they get into discussion with trade-union activists they don’t conceal their personal commitment to socialism. (Failure to “come out” stores up trouble, leaving the possibility of a witch-hunt at a later date.) But it still leaves the question of whether an explicitly socialist organisation is needed. If socialism is ever to take root in the United States again, then surely explicitly socialist propaganda is required. In this connection I would mention the excellent work being done by Haymarket Books. And of course the applicability of the Labor Notes  model to Britain, where the socialist tradition has been rather more tenacious, is questionable.

One of the rare points at which Sheila commends Cliff is for his advocacy, in 1972, of “a rank and file strategy” (p. 333). Cliff defined this in terms of  a “cog wheel” between revolutionaries and the working class, proposing “the organisation of militants in different unions and industries who work together around specific issues…wider than those affecting a small group of workers in one place of work [but] not going as far as to aim at a complete emancipation of the working class…”

And Sheila comments: “Common sense at last”. But Cliff’s cog-wheel metaphor (borrowed from Trotsky) requires three cogs – the working class, the rank-and-file movement, and the socialist organisation. (p. 334). If we adopt the Labor Notes model, where is the third wheel?

For Tony Cliff socialism was paramount. Strategies and forms of organisation might vary according to objective circumstances, the state of the movement and the balance of class forces. But everything was subordinated to the struggle for socialism. Perhaps he made seriousmisjudgements at various points in his life. In my book I attempted to set out his changing positions so that they can be subjected to serious criticism and so we can learn from our mistakes.

I would add another consideration relating to our present situation. In a period where the level of struggle is lamentably low, I don’t think it is the case, as Lenin believed at one time, that workers first develop “trade-union consciousness”, and then have to move beyond that to an acceptance of socialism. On the contrary, often the only people willing to do the generally tedious and unglamorous work of keeping trade-union organisation alive are those who are already motivated by a socialist commitment. This is, by the way, clearly the case with Labor Notes, where Kim Moody was an active socialist over two decades before becoming involved in the establishment of Labor Notes. As a result I would argue, following Cliff (and William Morris) that our priority at the present time is to make socialists.

Despite my belief that many of her criticisms are seriously misguided, I welcome Sheila’s critique. I very much agree with Cliff’s formulation that “ideas are like a river and a river is formed from lots of streams”. (p. 529).  When – if – the working class reawakens, then I’m sure both the SWP and Labor Notes, as well as many other tendencies, will have made their contribution to the new movement that emerges..

Until then, perhaps a little modesty is called for. None of us have made the revolution, none of us have even managed to block the continuing onslaught against working-class organisation and living standards. We should aim for fraternal exchange of views and experience rather than the defence of entrenched positions. I’m sure I have much to learn from Labor Notes; I hope Sheila is prepared to return the compliment and study Cliff’s work a little more carefully.

Ian Birchall


[i] I Birchall, Tony Cliff: A Marxist for his Tine, London, 2011. All page references given in brackets in the text.
[vii] Socialist Worker, 6 January 1979.
[viii] Socialist Worker, 3 February 1979.

Tuesday, 1 October 2013

Polemic: Parallel Wars - A reply to Leandros Bolaris

By Steve Cushion - Secretary UCU London Retired Members branch
(From LSHG Newsletter # 50 Autumn 2013)

Leandros Bolaris's attack on Donny Gluckstein's People's History of the Second World War (See Two in One in International Socialism 138, 2013), misses the point on a number of issues. The argument that there were two parallel wars, a "People's War" and an "Imperialist War" is not, as Bolaris asserts, going round in circles and does not necessarily end up accepting that the Second Word War was solely an "anti-fascist" war"(1). We surely do not judge a war by the perceptions of the participants or the public statements of the leaders; if we did this, we would see the English Civil War as merely a religious conflict and ignore the revolutionary implications. In the context of the times, a mere twenty years after First World War, any attempt to raise an army in Britain based on "King and Country" or any similar imperialist slogan would have been an abject failure and the ruling class was shrewd enough to recognise this. Therefore, the fact that most participants thought that the Allies were fighting an anti-fascist war is a tribute to skilful government propaganda and the confusion caused by the class-collaborationist politics of the "Popular Front". What people think they are doing is often at odds with material reality.

Donny Gluckstein does indeed "follow a long line of left-wing historians" with good reason: France's rulers were indeed more afraid of the Popular Front than the Germans.(2) The Popular Front was, in one sense, a corpse before it was even born, but this does not mean that the events of 1934- 36 had not badly scared the French bourgeoisie; the French working class were not crushed, but had merely suffered a setback. The Munich Agreement, Roosevelt's election promise to stay out of any European conflict and the Hitler-Stalin Pact show the reluctance of the ruling elites of all the major future Allied powers to go to war, in part because they well remembered the revolutionary situation in which the First World War ended. I would argue that the collapse of the French Army was more than just a tactical blunder by the French High Command, it rather reflected an ambivalence about the war in the minds of a ruling class whose attitude may be summed up by a 1941 letter from a Lille factory owner to his trade newspaper: 'I would rather see my country occupied by the Germans than my factory occupied by the workers'.(3) A careful reading of quote from Trotsky in Leandros Bolaris's article reveals that it was principally an attack on the folly of the Popular Front rather than an explanation of the Fall of France.

The French and British governments were forced to go to war in defence of Poland because they saw, and saw very much more clearly than Stalin, that the invasion of Poland was a prelude to the invasion of Russia. If the German army had managed to conquer Russia, that country's vast natural resources, when combined with German industrial strength, would have meant that Germany could have dominated the world economy and won any future war with any or all of the Allies. So the Allied rulers had a difficult balancing act to perform, to persuade their citizens to fight an imperialist war and to avoid that war ending in a revolutionary situation in the manner of 1914-1918. Declaring it an antifascist war was an effective way of doing this; class-conscious workers were rightly appalled at the way fascism was rolling out over Europe, smashing trade unions and workers' parties, cutting wages and putting the bourgeoisie firmly in the saddle. This fear of fascism was completely justified, however unconditional support for Churchill, Stalin, Roosevelt and De Gaulle, which was advocated by the trade union bureaucracy and the Social Democrat and Stalinist leaders, was not the way to defeat fascism. These reformist workers' leaders also helped the Allies fight the war in such a way as to avoid independent working class activity: advocating no-strike agreements and promoting increased production in Britain and the USA, while urging the resistance to subordinate its activities to the needs of the Allied High Command in the occupied countries. However, given the nature of underground resistance movements, this latter aim was only partially successful.

Leandros Bolaris is absolutely correct to say that the FTP-MOI was not fighting for a return of the pre-war capitalist French Republic that had persecuted them. This was not only true for immigrant workers. Within the the French Communist Party, there was a difference of emphasis between Paris and the Pas-de-Calais. Guided by the Hitler-Stalin Pact, the Paris leadership thought that they had to organise within the context of a German victory. Taking a position of neutrality between what they saw as the rival imperialisms of Germany and Britain, the official publications ignored the German occupation and concentrated their attacks on the Vichy government and French capitalism.(4) Many of their comrades in the mining basin of Northern France were convinced, however, that the war would end in revolution, as had happened in Russia after the war of 1914, and that revolution would spring from the ashes of the defeat of German fascism. French capitalism was weak, they argued, the war would weaken it still further until it became merely an adjunct of German capitalism. Julien Hapiot, head of the Young Communists in the Pas-de-Calais and a veteran of the International Brigades in Spain thought that: 'It is much better to shoot the master rather than the dog'.(5)

I am not in a position to discuss the situation in Greece, but as a contribution to the debate on the Second World War, it may be useful to look in some detail at the situation in Northern France following the German invasion. This area formed part of a Paris, August 1945.  An unarmed crowd captures a German tank "Forbidden Zone", run directly by the German authorities in Brussels and effectively cut off from the rest of France, allowing the resistance to develop with greater independence. In particular the communist party in the mining basin of the Pas-de-Calais entered into active resistance much earlier than the national organisation, many believing that the war would end in a revolution similar to 1917. While the PCF leadership in Paris was attempting to negotiate the legal appearance of Humanité, on the strength of their support for the Hitler-Stalin pact, their comrades in the North were gathering as much of the weaponry abandoned by the fleeing French soldiers as they could.(6)

A group of communist miners, succeeded in organising a mass strike against increased workloads in June 1941, involving 100,000 miners, 85% of the workforce in the region. They held out impressively for 10 days, but eventually the sheer weight of German Army repression forced a return to work. In organising a strike to resist the employers' offensive in the mines, rather as they might have done in times of peace, but coming up against the reality of the Nazi occupation, the local communists concluded that the defeat of the occupying forces was an essential prerequisite for any social progress and that this required armed action. Although they were unhappy with the national line of the party which accepted the German occupation, they had tried to ignore the problem as far as possible. Being so forcibly confronted with the German Army, they realised that they could not duck the issue and so, as the strike went on, one can see that the link between opposition to the occupation and social liberation becoming more evident in their propaganda.(7)

The employers of the region collaborated completely with the Germans and the mine owners gave the police the names of those they considered to be ringleaders.(8) As a result, 450 arrests were made, of whom 270 were deported to concentration camps in Germany and 130 never returned. The repression led many other militants to go into hiding. Emboldened and politically radicalised by the strike, many of these began a campaign of sabotage with the aim of encouraging the local population and sapping the moral of the occupying forces and their collaborationist allies. These militants armed themselves, initially for self-defence, and, from their base of support in the mining communities, started blowing up electricity pylons, derailing trains etc. This led to a need for more explosives and these were obtained by raids on the dynamite stores in the mines, which in turn produced violent confrontations with the security forces. In the North of France, the first attacks on individual German soldiers were in large part motivated by the need to obtain more weapons.

Much ink has been spilt about the wisdom of attacking individual soldiers, but less has been said about the practicalities. The first two attacks in the North turned to farce when the old pistols misfired and the assassination attempts degenerated into fist fights.(9) This inexperience could only be overcome by practice and demonstrates a major practical problem with attentism(10); when the time comes to fight, political correctness is no substitute for experience. The main political outcome of the strike was to provide the French Resistance with its most solid base. The traditional solidarity of the close knit mining communities and the anti-German, anti-Vichy and anti-employer sentiments generated by the strike enabled these urban guerrillas an unparalleled freedom of movement and support networks. In 1942 and 1943 over half the armed attacks and sabotage in France happened in the Nord/Pas-de-Calais.(11)

When the employers are seen as traitors, the class struggle appears patriotic. Overcoming this contradiction requires skilful political work by socialists, stressing the class nature of resistance. In France the reverse happened, as the tactic of the Popular Front played down the class struggle to ensure collaboration with Anglo-American imperialism. By the end of 1942, all of the original leaders of the 1941 miners' strike were either dead, in prison awaiting execution or fled to remote parts where they were not known. This allowed the national leadership of the PCF to impose its
class collaborationist, nationalist policies on newly emerging, inexperienced militants.(12)

A major objection to attacks on German soldiers is that this would hinder the appeal to mutiny or desertion. This argument ignores the fact that mutinous situations and collaboration with erstwhile enemies rarely come when their army is victorious: Russia 1917, Germany 1918, the US in Vietnam. The largest group of German soldiers who changed sides in WW2 were recruited into the Red Army after the battle of Stalingrad.(13) While German soldiers could treat France as a holiday camp, there was little incentive to rebel or even think about it. The insecurity caused by attacks on German soldiers was more likely to produce an atmosphere receptive to anti-fascist propaganda than when they were living the high life in the "City of Light". In the North of France, the tactic of individual assassinations became largely replaced by the derailing of troop trains; why kill or injure one when you can get them 500 at a time? The most famous transfer of allegiance was that of the Paris Police, who had loyally carried out the commands of their Fascist hierarchy, including being responsible for rounding up the Jews of Paris. However, in 1944, with German and Vichy France facing defeat, they saved their bacon by joining the uprising. Less well known, 300 German soldiers also joined the Paris uprising. German-speaking communists in the MOI, an immigrant workers' organisation, published a paper called Soldat im Western, at the same time as other immigrant communists were engaged in armed resistance.(14)

The two tactics, the carrot and the stick, were, I would argue, correctly seen as complementary; the real problem with the MOI approach was the Popular Front politics of that propaganda, not the tactic itself. When seen from the perspective of the MOI, armed attacks on German soldiers take on a different perspective. Many were refugees from the Spanish Civil War, both Spanish Republicans and International Brigade volunteers, others were Jews who had watched their families and neighbours being deported. During 1942 and the first half of 1943, they provided the principal active armed groups in Paris, treated as expendable by the PCF leadership.(15) It is unlikely that these fighters risked their lives for "la France"; a socialist explanation of their motivation is much more plausible and is consistent with the surviving evidence.

The French Trotskyists also had some success in spreading propaganda amongst the German soldiers and sailors in Brest, but were reluctant to take part in the armed struggle, although some, like André Calvès, a Trotskyist from Brest, did join the communist-led armed resistance group, the FTP, long before the half-hearted recognition by the European Secretariat of the Fourth International of the importance of the resistance as a mass movement, as contained in the 1943 "resolution on the partisan movement".(16) This resolution is effectively attentiste, despite its revolutionary rhetoric.(17) Had the French Trotskyists armed themselves earlier, they would have been in a much better position to implement a united front policy with other resistance groups, as well as to defend themselves from Stalinist sectarian aggression.

Donny Gluckstein's formulation of "Imperialist War" and "People's War" is a step forward in the analysis of the Second World War. He is correct to start his history of the Second World War with a discussion of the Spanish Civil War because the political question was the same: should socialists moderate their demands, play down the possibility of socialism and collaborate with an anti-fascist bourgeoisie, or should they argue that workers self-activity is the best way to defeat fascism and try to turn war into revolution. We do not expect the state to defeat the EDL on the streets of Walthamstow, neither should workers have relied on the Anglo-Americans to defeat Fascism in the 1940s. The Allies fought the war in such a way as to ensure that there would not be a revolutionary situation at the end, as there had been at the end of the previous war. Mass aerial bombardment and the insistence of unconditional surrender are examples of this approach.

Leandros Bolaris's description of the situation in Greece shows the importance the Allied governments placed on avoiding any element of socialism in the final settlement and were prepared to divert resources from the fight against Nazi Germany to ensure such an outcome. "Neither Washington nor Berlin" seems to be the correct approach to the imperialist aspects of the war. On the other hand, describing the resistance as part of a "People's War" is useful . It indicates that it was a rebellion seeking social improvements, but recognises that it was a cross class movement involving workers, peasants and elements of the petite-bourgeoisie. There was not the revolutionary leadership to turn this into a revolution, but the fear of such a revolution was still enough to win considerable social reforms.

Notes
1 Bolaris, 2013, p.148-149
2 Bolaris, 2013, p.151
3 Revue du Nord, L'Occupation en France et en Belgique 1940-44 , No 2 (hors série), Lille, 1988, p746
4 For more on the national position of the PCF at the start of the occupation: Noguères, Henri, Histoire de la Résistance en France, Laffont, Paris, 1967 ( Volume 1) Courtois, Stéphane, Le PCF dans la Guerre, Editions Ramsay, Paris 1980 Tillon, Charles, On Chantait Rouge, Laffont, Paris, 1977
5 Pannequin, Roger, Ami si tu tombes, Le Sagittaire, Paris, 1976 p90
6 Rémy, La Résistance dans le Nord, Famot, Genève, 1974 p122
7 Cushion, Steve, The 1941 miners' strike in northern France: from a dispute over soap to armed resistance. Socialist History 29, 2006 pp. 41-55
8 Michel, Joël, La mine, Gallimard, Paris, 1993 p84
9 "Carnets de Charles Debarge" Charles Debarge, a miner who became a resistence leader in the Pas-de-Calais, kept a journal up until the last days before his death at the hands of the French police. A copy may be seen in the Musée Municipal de Denain.
10 attentism was the name given to the policy adopted by the Gaullist resistence of waiting until the Allied invasion before moving to the offensive
11 Pierrart, André & Rousseau, Michel, Eusabio Ferrari, Editions Syros, Paris, 1980 p.146
12 Noguères, Henri, Histoire de la Résistance en France, Laffont, Paris, 1967 tome 2 p.229
13 Veyrier, Marcel, La Wehrmacht Rouge, Paris: Juillard, 1970
14 Collin, Claude , "Le Travail Allemand : origines et filiations", Guerres mondiales et conflits contemporains n°230 2008/2
15 Courtois, Stéphane, Peschanski, Denis, Rayski, Adam, Le sang de l’étrange - les immigrés de la MOI dans la Résistance,Paris, Fayard, 1989 Manouchian, Mélinée, Manouchian, Paris, Éditeurs français réunis, 1977
16 Mandel, Ernest, Trotskyists and World War Two, 1976 -http://www.marxists.org/archive/mandel/1976/xx/trotsww2.htm Calves, Andre, J’ai essayé de comprendre, Mémoires: 1920-1950, http://andre-calves.org
17 Prager, Rodolphe, L’Internationale dans la guerre 1940-1946, Editions La Brêche, 1981(English translation by John Archer in Revolutionary History http://www.marxists.org/history/etol/revhist/backiss/vol1/no3/prager.html

Monday, 30 September 2013

Comment: In defence of our history



(From LSHG Newsletter # 50, Autumn 2013)

In January Owen Jones published an article in which he sharply criticised those “obsessed with replicating a revolution that took place in a semi-feudal country nearly a century ago” and claimed that “the era of Leninist party building surely ended a long time ago.”

There was a rapid rebuttal from Alex Callinicos in Socialist Review, which denounced the mindless repetition of a few sacred formulas” and argued that “genuinely carrying on a tradition requires its continuous creative renewal”.

Callinicos’s article provoked widespread comment, notably from John Riddell, who deployed formidable erudition in his account of how “democratic centralism” functioned in the early Comintern.

This is not the place to discuss those debates, and certainly not the circumstances that gave rise to them. But as socialist historians, we should be particularly concerned by one theme underlying these discussions, the question of how the study of history relates to political practice.

The argument against history is well known, summed up in Henry Ford’s famous remark 

“History is more or less bunk. It's tradition. We don't want tradition. We want to live in the present, and the only history that is worth a tinker's damn is the history that we make today.” 
[Chicago Tribune, 1916]. 

Owen Jones and his mates in the Labour Party would probably go along with this. It is popular with university managements, like those at Middlesex and London Met, which have closed history departments. (Middlesex, which broke its links with the past in 2006, is now running a course for Asda managers, which consists of just twelve days of classroom study in three years, plus online studies and work-based assessment.

For the left such arguments have a superficial attractiveness. Surely we should start from the concrete realities of our own time, not with memories of the past. The attitude is summed up in George Galloway’s famous recommendation that we should “stop talking about dead Russians”.

A recent manifestation is the claim that the internet, and such phenomena as Facebook and Twitter, have changed everything and opened up a totally new style of political activity.

In my view such rejections of history should be forcefully countered. To begin with there is a simple logical objection. This rejection of history, this claim that our world, in Yeats’s words, is “all changed, changed utterly”, is itself a historical judgement. To make any serious assessment of what exactly has been changed by the internet, we need to look at the history of forms of communication from the blank semaphore telegraph of the 1790s, which so excited Babeuf and his comrades, through the electric telegraph, radio and television to the internet. Only such a historical analysis can provide a basis for a proper analysis of change and continuity.

It is well-known that in revolutions those taking part frequently draw on models from the past. The French revolutionaries of 1789 saw themselves as re-enacting the Roman Republic. The Chartists often thought in terms of remaking the French Revolution. And in the Russian Revolution there was frequent reference back to 1789 and to the Paris Commune. Thus in his History of the Russian Revolution Trotsky reminds us that the Bolsheviks, in seizing the State Bank, were very much aware of the precedent of the Paris Commune:

'Almost simultaneously with the seizure of the Telephone Exchange a detachment of sailors from the Marine Guard, about forty strong, seized the building of the State Bank on the Ekaterininsky Canal. …. The seizure of the bank had to some extent a symbolic importance. The cadres of the party had been brought up on the Marxian criticism of the Paris Commune of 1871, whose leaders, as is well known, did not venture to lay hands on the State Bank. ‘No we will not make that mistake,’ many Bolsheviks had been saying to themselves long before October 25. News of the seizure of the most sacred institution of the bourgeois state swiftly spread through the districts, raising a warm wave of joy.'

Such retrospective identification was not always helpful. The confused debate about the Soviet Thermidor in the 1920s is a case in point. But it was inevitable. When human beings are engaged in radically remaking the world, they can only conceive what they are doing either in terms of pure imagination (like the Utopian socialists), or in terms of what has been done in the past. A proper understanding of the originality of a revolution’s achievements can only be achieved after the event.

In the Eighteenth Brumaire Marx noted the way in which revolutionaries constantly turn to the past:

'The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living. And just as they seem to be occupied with revolutionizing themselves and things, creating something that did not exist before, precisely in such epochs of revolutionary crisis they anxiously conjure up the spirits of the past to their service, borrowing from them names, battle slogans, and costumes in order to present this new scene in world history in time-honoured disguise and borrowed language. Thus Luther put on the mask of the Apostle Paul, the Revolution of 1789-1814 draped itself alternately in the guise of the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire, and the Revolution of 1848 knew nothing better to do than to parody, now 1789, now the revolutionary tradition of 1793-95.'

But he thought that the proletarian revolution could break with such backward-looking practices: 

'The social revolution of the nineteenth century cannot take its poetry from the past but only from the future. It cannot begin with itself before it has stripped away all superstition about the past. The former revolutions required recollections of past world history in order to smother their own content. The revolution of the nineteenth century must let the dead bury their dead in order to arrive at its own content.'

Undoubtedly Marx was over-optimistic about the prospects for socialist revolution in the nineteenth century, and hence underestimated the extent to which those involved in making socialist revolutions would need to learn from the past. The younger Alex Callinicos, not so weighed down with the burden of defending the Marxist “tradition”, made some interesting comments on these passages by Marx, considered together with Sartre, Benjamin and others. He observed that 

'historical materialism does not simply transcribe the pattern of past struggles passively. It seeks to assimilate these experiences of these struggles critically and reflectively. Only such an appropriation of the past can produce historical knowledge ‘whose pulse’, in Benjamin’s words, ‘can still be felt in the present’. For the point of remembering past victories and defeats is to learn from them and to put their lessons to work in the future.'
 (A Callinicos, Making History, Chicago, 2009, p. 264. The book was first published in 1987, and planned before the miners’ strike of 1984-85.)

The study of history is also relevant to a major problem in Marxist theory. The philosopher Georg Lukács put forward the concept of “imputed consciousness”, that is, the consciousness of which the working class is potentially capable, rather than that which it has at any particular point in time:

'By relating consciousness to the whole of society it becomes possible to infer the thoughts and feelings which men would have in a particular situation if they were able to assess both it and the interests arising from it in their impact on immediate action and on the whole structure of society. …. Now class consciousness consists in fact of the appropriate and rational reactions ‘imputed’ (zugerechnet) to a particular typical position in the process of production. This consciousness is, therefore, neither the sum nor the average of what is thought or felt by the single individuals who make up the class. And yet the historically significant actions of the class as a whole are determined in the last resort by this consciousness and not by the thought of the individual - and these actions can be understood only by reference to this consciousness.'
(G. Lukács, History and Class Consciousness, London, 1971, p 51.)

Now this notion of “imputed consciousness” is both essential and problematic for Marxism. Essential, because unless it can be shown that the working class is capable of a radically different consciousness than that which it has at present, then any hope of the self-emancipation of the proletariat is vain. Yet problematic because of the vexed question of who does the “imputing”. Is there some elite vanguard that knows better than the working class itself what the class should be thinking? 

The educator must be educated, but who imputes the imputer? The only way out of this dilemma is to show what the working class is potentially capable of by study of what it has achieved in the past. If we’re asked how we know that the working class could run society for itself, the only answer that is both intellectually sound and plausible in debate is one that cites the Paris Commune, the Russian soviets, Budapest 1956, Nantes 1968 and Portugal 1975. The left needs more historians and fewer philosophers.

Of course all the experiences referred to are partial. The working class has never held on to power for very long. But that is a problem that lies at the very heart of the historical process. There are no guarantees; the future is socialism or barbarism, successful revolution or “the common ruin of the contending classes”. And it was the period of the Russian Revolution and its aftermath that showed the highest level of working-class struggle yet known to human history. The successful proletarian revolution in Russia was followed by a wave of strikes, mutinies and the formation of workers’ councils throughout Europe. Germany came to the very brink of revolution, while Italy, France, Spain and Britain also saw massive struggles. The formation of the Communist International brought together various currents of the left and offered hope to millions of workers that there would be no return to the system that had produced the catastrophic World War. That’s why, doubtless to Owen Jones’s great chagrin, some of us will go on talking about Lenin and other dead Russians for some time to come.

At present we face the challenge of Michael Gove trying to manipulate the teaching of history in the interests of the social order he defends. Teachers and indeed all of us should fight Gove’s plans. But we should be clear that no government will provide the kind of historical education we need. The left needs to assume its responsibility for the historical study, research and popularisation that is central to its project. We need more bodies like the London Socialist Historians Group. The recent Matchwomen’s Festival at the Bishopsgate Institute showed what can be done with imagination and a non-sectarian approach. The historical process includes the future as well as the past, and without history we have no future.

Ian Birchall