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Weekly Worker 618 Thursday March 30 2006
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Reform coalition, or mass strike?
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In the third article in this series, Mike Macnair examines the basis
of two contending strategies for working class advance
My first article discussed the partial debate on questions of revolutionary
strategy in the French Ligue Communiste Révolutionnaire and Alex Callinicos’s
comments on this debate (Weekly
Worker February
16). I argued that the LCR comrades were addressing genuine strategic
issues, which Callinicos largely evaded; but that to tackle these issues
we needed to go back to the history of the problem of ‘revolutionary strategy’.
In the second article I discussed the idea that Marxism itself is a strategy
- for the emancipation of the working class, through collective action
for communism; and for the emancipation of “all human beings without distinction
of sex or race” - ie, for communism - through the emancipation of the
working class (Weekly
Worker February
23). I drew out some corollaries of this strategic concept: on the
one hand, rejection of dependence on the existing state, and, on the other,
the need for the working class to organise and act internationally before
the arrival of ‘the revolution’ or the socialist millennium.
I also discussed the choice made by the socialists of, first, the German
SPD and, later, the Second International to prioritise the unity of the
movement above all else. I concluded that the diplomatic formulation of
the Gotha programme and the general principle of unity at all costs had
not succeeded in suppressing strategic debate, and the core of the ‘problem
of strategy’ began to be addressed in the debates between the right wing
of the movement, the Kautskyan centre, and the leftist advocates of a
‘strategy of the general strike’.
Existing debates
These tendencies drew on debates which had already begun. The
‘general strike strategy’ was a variant form of positions which had already
been argued by the Bakuninists in the 1870s and were still maintained
by anarcho-syndicalists (who were formally excluded from the International
- except insofar as they appeared as representatives of trade union organisations
- in 1896). The policy of the right had indirect roots in the Lassalleans’
policy of demanding that the German imperial state support the workers
against the capitalists; its more immediate root was the (successful)
coalition policy of SPD regional leaders in southern Germany, which Engels
criticised in The peasant question in France and Germany (1894).
The Kautskyan ‘centre’ position took its starting point from Marx’s and
Engels’s polemics both against the anarchists at the time of the split
in the First International, and against the coalitionism of the precursors
of the right. But, though Kautsky (with a bit of arm-twisting from Engels)
had published Marx’s Critique of the Gotha programme, he had by
no means internalised Marx’s and Engels’s criticisms of that programme.
The Erfurt programme was subject to some similar criticisms from Engels
and, in the German and international centre tendency, Kautsky was allied
both with the true author of the Gotha programme, Wilhelm Liebknecht,
and with open Lassalleans like Mehring.
The right: reform v ‘utopianism’
The underlying common idea of the right wing of the movement was that
the practical task of the movement was to fight for reforms in the interests
of the working class. In order to win these reforms, it was necessary
to make coalitions with other tendencies which were willing to ally with
the workers’ movement. And in order to make coalitions, it was necessary
in the first place to be willing to take governmental office: it was by
creating a coalition government that the possibility really arose
of legislating in the interests of the working class, as well as of administrative
measures (creating social security systems, etc).
Secondly, it was necessary to be willing to make substantial political
compromises. Thus Engels, in The peasant question, polemicised
against Vollmar’s programmatic concessions to the peasantry in relation
to positive subsidies for family farming and in relation to trade union
issues affecting agricultural labourers employed by small farmers.
The largest compromise - but, from the point of view of the right, the
smallest - would be for the workers’ party to abandon its illusory and
futile revolutionism; and, with it, equally illusory Marxist claims about
crisis, and the notion that in an economic downswing reforms, as concessions
made to the working class, would tend to be taken back unless the working
class took political power into its own hands.
In the view of the right, the revolutionism was, after all, already empty
of content. The German party, for example, did not call openly for the
replacement of the monarchy by a republic and, though the Erfurt programme
contained a good set of standard democratic-republican demands (for example,
universal military training, popular militia, election of officials, including
judges, and so on), these were not central to the party’s agitational
work (see www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/1891erfurt.html).
The claim that economic downswing would produce attacks on concessions
already made could perfectly well be conceded by rightists as true of
the bourgeoisie; but the argument that this was also true of the
state depended on the claim that the state was a class instrument
in the hands of the bourgeoisie, and was thus intertwined with revolutionism.
The right did not simply argue that getting rid of revolutionism would
make the workers’ party into a respectable party with which other parties
could do business, and which could therefore achieve coalitions, and hence
concessions. It also offered a variety of theoretical objections to Marx’s
and Engels’s arguments, based on christianity, Kantianism, nationalism
and early appropriations of the marginalist economists’ critiques of Marx.
A relatively sophisticated version was Bernstein’s Evolutionary socialism,
which argued that the scientific approach of Marx and Engels was diverted
by their residual Hegelianism into a utopian revolutionism.
The actual content of the various theoretical objections to Marxism need
not be considered here. The core question is the relative value of Marxist
and ‘constitutionalist’ arguments in terms of predictive power and, hence,
as a guide to action. To address this question it is necessary to separate
the rightists’ positive claim - that coalitions based on programmatic
concessions can win real reforms - from their negative claim, that ‘revolutionism’
is unrealistic, worthless and illusory.
True or false?
It should be said right away that the positive claim is true, to the
extent that we are willing to treat partial gains for particular groups
of workers (eg, workers in Britain; or workers in industry; or in particular
industries) as gains for the working class as a whole.
This does not, in fact, depend on the fact that the workers’ party is
a minority party and hence needs formal coalitions. If the workers’ party
presents itself purely as a party of reform, it will also win members
and voters from the existing parties of reform. It may then, like the
British Labour Party after 1945, become a party which is in form a workers’
party capable of forming a government on its own, but is in reality in
itself a coalition between advocates of the independent political
representation of the working class on the one hand, and liberal and statist
reformers and political careerists on the other: to use Lenin’s very slippery
expression, a “bourgeois workers’ party”.
The positive claim is, however, illusory. Part of this illusory character
is due to the fact that the negative claim is false. But part of it is
internal. The policy of coalitions based on programmatic concessions is,
as I said earlier, based on the need to form a coalition government
in order to get effective reforms. But this supposes from the outset that
reforms will take the form of state action to ameliorate the situation
of the workers. The reform policy is therefore a policy for the growth
and increasing power of the state and increased state taxation: as the
Conservative press puts it, for the “nanny state”.
The internal problem is that working class people are no more fond of
being in perpetual parental leading-reins from the state than the middle
classes: the aim of the emancipation of the working class is an
aspiration to collective and individual freedom. The policy of reform
through coalition governments therefore contains within itself - quite
apart from the falsity of the negative claim - the seeds of its own overthrow.
The petty tyrannies of the council house manager, the social services
officials, the benefit officials, etc become the ground of a conservative/liberal
reaction against the “nanny state” among important sections of the
working class.
This is not merely a British phenomenon (the Thatcher victory in 1979).
It was seen in the largest possible scale in the fall of the Stalinist
regimes in 1989-91. And it has characterised the French, German and Italian
electoral cycles and those of Australia, Canada and the US at least since
the 1970s (in the last case, the Democrats play the role of the reformists).
The negative claim
The predictive failure of the reformists’ negative claim results, most
fundamentally, in the national limit of its horizons. Capitalism forms
itself, from its beginnings, as a global socioeconomic formation. It is
an international greasy-pole hierarchy of competing firms. Within this
formation the nation-state is unavoidably a firm, and there is also a
greasy-pole hierarchy of competing states. The understanding that the
nation-state is a firm competing in the world market is a trivial commonplace
of modern capitalist politics: the need to preserve or improve ‘British
competitiveness’ is a constant mantra of both Labour and Tories, and equivalents
can be found in the major parties of every country. It also forms part
of Marx’s criticism of the Gotha programme (quoted in my February 23 article).
To form a government within this framework therefore necessarily
commits the participants to manage the interests of the nation-state in
global competition.
Success in this competition allows the basis for reforms in the interests
of the national working class. Or, more exactly, of sections
of the national working class: there are always groups (particularly
workers in small firms, young workers, migrants, etc) who must be excluded
for the sake of compromise with the middle class parties, as Engels predicted
in criticising Vollmar. But this success is not ‘purely economic’. Capitals
are able to externalise the costs of economic downswing onto weaker states
and the firms (and landlords, petty producers, etc) associated with these
states. Competition on the world market is thus military-political-economic.
The policy of reform through coalition governments thus entails (a) the
displacement of the business cycle onto the weaker states and their firms
and populations; and (b) the displacement of the social polarisation which
capitalism produces onto polarisation between nations. On the one
hand, this gives the reformists’ negative claims their credibility: reforms
are actually achieved and social polarisation is reduced in the successful
states. On the other, the reformists necessarily commit themselves to
sustaining and managing an imperial military force.
Sentimental objections to imperialism and foreign adventures, and the
residual commitment to the ideas of universal military service and a people’s
militia, inevitably give way, once reformists are actually in government,
to the hard needs of sustaining the state’s success and standing in the
global hierarchy, which is the only means by which reforms can be sustained.
One result is that reformism of this kind tends to be marginal in the
‘global south’: the power of the local state is simply insufficient to
displace the economic contradictions onto other states and thereby offer
long-term successful reforms.
Even this success at the price of bloody hands cannot forever be sustained,
because externalising the business cycle has its own limits. As a world
top-dog state, like Britain or the US, and the lead sectors associated
with this state, enter into decline, the externalised downswing phase
of the business cycle returns, affecting not only them, but the other
states near the top of the global hierarchy. Competition between these
states intensifies. As a result, if the state as a firm is to remain globally
competitive, it must endeavour to take back the reforms which have been
given and drive wages, hours and working conditions down towards the global
average (their true market value). The project of reform through coalition
government thereby comes to offer ‘reformism without reforms’ or merely
the ‘less bad’ (Blair in preference to Major, and so on).
But every other state is also doing the same thing and, the more they
do it, the more global effective purchasing power declines, forcing more
attacks ... in reality, this is merely the downswing of the business cycle
postponed. It is accumulated in time and displaced onto a global scale,
returning as global market pressure on the nation-state. The downswing
of the ordinary business cycle must end in bankruptcies, which both free
productive capital from the claims of overproduced fictional capital to
income, and devalorise overinvested physical capital. It is the bankruptcies
which free up space for a new economic upswing.
In the same way, the global downswing must end in the destruction of
the global money and property claims of the declining world hegemon state:
Britain in 1914-45; the US at some point in this coming century. In its
(ultimately futile) efforts to put off this result, the declining world
hegemon state must respond by an increased exploitation of its financial
claims and its military dominance - as Britain did in the later 19th century,
and as the US is doing now. The deferred and transposed business cycle
can only overcome this problem by ending in war.
At the point of global war between the great powers, the illusory character
of the policy of reform through coalition government becomes transparent.
All that maintains the reformists are mass fear of the consequences of
military defeat, and direct support from the state in the form of repression
of their left opponents. Thus both 1914-18 and 1939-45 produced major
weakening of the reform policy within the workers’ movement and the growth
of alternatives. In the event, after 1945 the destruction of British world
hegemony enabled a new long phase of growth, and reformism was able to
revive. We are now on the road to another collapse of reformist politics
... but what is lacking is a strategically plausible alternative.
The left: ‘All out for ...’
The alternative offered by the left wing of the Second International
was the ‘strategy of the mass strike’. The idea was an elementary one.
In the first place, the strike weapon had been and remained at the core
of the effectiveness of trade union struggles for immediate demands. Secondly,
the struggle for the International itself was intimately connected with
the struggle for May Day - waged through international one-day strike
action - from its founding Congress in 1889.
The proposal of the left was that the International could take the political
initiative by extending the use of the strike weapon in support
of the demands of the minimum programme. As the working class was increasingly
able to win victories by this weapon, its confidence and political self-assertiveness
would grow, culminating (perhaps) in a general strike which challenged
for power - either demanding the transfer of political power to the working
class or (in the most Bakuninist form) immediately beginning the creation
of the new society out of the free cooperation begun in the strike movement.
A range of theoretical grounds have been offered for this strategic line,
from theoretical anarchist reasonings, through varieties of Hegelian Marxism,
to interpretations of Trotsky’s Transitional programme. As with
the right, the theoretical arguments need not be considered here. Like
that of the right, the strategic line of the left involved both a positive
predictive claim and a negative one. The negative claim was that the method
of electoral struggle and coalitions - or even the effort to build permanent
mass workers’ organisations, as opposed to ad hoc organisations of mass
struggle like strike committees - necessarily led to corruption of the
workers’ representatives and organisations and the evolution of these
organisations into mere forms of capitalist control of the working class.
The positive claim was that the method of the strike struggle could be
extended and generalised. Experience has something to tell us about the
value of these claims.
True or false?
The negative claim may, on its face, appear to be amply proved by the
experience of the 20th century. It is certainly true of the policy of
reform through coalition governments, for the reasons given above. On
the experience of the 20th century, it appears to be also true
of the ‘Leninist party’, which claimed to escape it. Those communist parties
which took power became corrupt apparatuses tyrannising over the working
classes of their countries, and most have ended in a return to capitalism,
while most of the ‘official’ CPs of the capitalist countries have become
simple reformist parties of the kind advocated by the right wing of the
Second International. The groups to their left have, to the extent that
they have attained mass support, gone down the same path and, to the extent
that they have not, have in the main become fossilised sects; in either
case, characterised internally by the petty dictatorship of the party
bureaucracy.
The trouble is that if the negative claim is taken seriously to be absolutely
proved, it is self-defeating. The implication is that nothing can
be done until the masses move into a mass strike wave, because to organise
in any other situation would imply the struggle for reforms, including
electoral activity’ coalitions, and organisational forms which turn out
to be corrupt. Unfortunately, however - as we will see in a moment - when
a mass strike wave does break out, this in itself immediately poses the
questions of government and forms of authority. Under these conditions,
the unorganised advocates of the mass strike as an alternative to permanent
organisation and the struggle for reforms are marginalised by the organised
parties. Like the Russian anarchists in the summer and autumn of 1917,
the anarchist CNT trade union confederation in the Spanish revolution,
the Bolivian Trotskyists in 1951 and the Portuguese far left in 1974-76,
they will be driven to give support to some contender for governmental
power, and lose any political initiative.
What I have just said is, in fact, no novelty. It is the substance of
Marx’s and Engels’s objection to the Bakuninists’ general strike strategy,
expressed (among other places) in Engels’s The Bakuninists at work
(1873). The Bakuninists ‘rejected authority’ - offering, in relation to
the First International, an early form of the idea that organising and
fighting for reforms leads to corruption, and advocating a form of general
strike strategy. When the revolutionary movement in Spain allowed them
to seize power in some localities in 1873, the result of their ‘rejection
of authority’ was alliance with localist forces, leading to an inability
to take any coordinated action to resist the counteroffensive of the military-clerical
right wing against the republicans.
The underlying problem is that ‘authority’ is, at bottom, merely a means
of collective decision-making. To ‘reject authority’ is therefore to reject
collective decision-making and - in the end - render yourself powerless.
The existing social structures of authority then reassert themselves.
In the end, anarchists have themselves discovered this, in Jo Freeman’s
famous pamphlet The tyranny of structurelessness (1970). It happens
just as much within small anarchist organisations (the ‘existing social
structures of authority’ then being gender and class hierarchy) as in
mass workers’ parties.
The almost uniform failure, by processes of bureaucratisation and corruption,
of workers’ and socialist parties, big and small, tells us that we have
not solved the problem of what sort of authority - that is, what sort
of mechanisms of decision-making - will serve the interests of the working
class. It also tells us that it is absolutely urgent to do so; and that
the standard Trotskyist response, originated by Trotsky himself, that
“the party ‘regime’ is not a political question”, is profoundly false.
The ‘party regime’ is inevitably the image of the sort of regime we are
fighting for.
But the proposition that the tyranny of structurelessness leads to the
reaffirmation of the existing social structures of authority is true not
only of groups and parties, but also of mass strike movements and revolutionary
crises - as the examples given above show. When we see why this
is the case, we will also see why the positive side of the ‘mass strike
strategy’ turns a partial truth into a strategic falsity.
The positive claim
Let us imagine for a moment a general strike which is both truly general
(everyone who works for a wage withdraws their labour) and indefinite,
to continue until certain demands are met, happening in a fully capitalist
country like Britain. Power supplies are cut off, and with them water
supplies and the telephone system. No trains or buses run, and no petrol
can be obtained except from small owner-run petrol stations; this soon
runs out. The supermarkets are closed, and no deliveries are made to those
small owner-run shops that remain open. The hospitals and doctors’ surgeries
are closed.
It should at once be apparent that this cannot continue for more than
a few days. If the result is not to be general catastrophe, the workers
need not simply to withdraw their labour, but to organise positively to
take over the capitalists’ facilities and run them in the interests of
the working class. A truly all-out indefinite general strike, therefore,
immediately demands the effective de facto expropriation of the
capitalists. As a result, it at once poses the question: will the state
protect the capitalists’ property rights? In other words, it poses the
question of political power.
Now, of course, what the advocates of the mass strike strategy were calling
for was not such a truly all-out indefinite general strike called by the
political party. The reality of mass strike movements is something a great
deal more messy, of the sort described, for Russia, in Luxemburg’s The
mass strike, but seen since then in many different countries at different
times (See also Jack Conrad’s discussion in Weekly
Worker January
13 2005). The political regime falls into crisis. Some spark sets
off the mass movement. Rather than a single, planned, truly all-out, indefinite
general strike, there is a wave of mass strikes - some protest actions
for political demands; some partial struggles for economic demands. They
begin to overlap and are accompanied by political radicalisation.
But a movement of this sort still poses the question of political
power, and for exactly the same reasons. A mass strike wave disrupts normal
supply chains. This can be true even of a strike in a single industry,
like the miners’ strikes in Britain in 1972 and 1974. Equally, however,
the capitalists’ property rights are, from their point of view, not merely
rights to things, but rights to the streams of surplus which can be made
to flow from these things. The strike in itself is therefore an interference
with their property, and a mass strike wave threatens the security of
their property. They begin to disinvest, and to press the state for stronger
action against strikers.
The economy begins to come unravelled. The loss of the normal (capitalist)
mechanisms of authority (decision-making) impacts on the broad masses
in the form of dislocation and shortages of goods. A strike wave or revolutionary
crisis can last longer than a truly all-out indefinite general strike,
but it cannot last longer than a period of months - at most a couple of
years. In this situation, if the workers’ movement does not offer an alternative
form of authority - alternative means of decision-making which are capable
of running the economy - the existing social structures of authority are
necessarily reaffirmed. Either the military moves in (Spain in 1873-74
and 1936, etc) or the reformists, put in power, re-establish capitalist
order (Ebert-Scheidemann in 1918; everywhere in Europe in the immediate
aftermath of World War II; in a much weaker sense, the 1974-79 Wilson
government in Britain).
The ‘mass strike strategy’ thus precisely fails to resolve the strategic
problem of authority which the negative aspect of the left’s approach
- the critique of the struggle for reforms - posed.
All power to the soviets?
Lenin in 1917 believed that the Russian working class had found in the
soviets - workers’ councils - the solution to the strategic problem of
authority posed by the mass strike movement. Growing out of the strike
movement itself, the soviets created a form of authority which shared
the characteristics of democracy and accountability from below which Marx
described in the Paris Commune. Communism could therefore take the political
form of the struggle for soviets and for soviet power.
In fact, as I have argued before, this belief was illusory (see Weekly
Worker Nov
11 2004). Almost as soon as the Bolsheviks had taken power, they were
forced to move from a militia to a regular army, and with it came logistics
and the need for a state bureaucracy. The soviets and militia could
not perform the core social function of the state, defending the society
against external attack. The problem of authority over the state bureaucracy
was unsolved. Lenin and the Bolsheviks fell back on the forms of authority
in their party and, as these proved a problem in the civil war, almost
unthinkingly militarised their party and created a corrupt bureaucratic
regime.
But ‘All power to the soviets’ was also illusory in another sense. Even
before they withered away into mere fronts for the Russian Communist Party,
the soviets did not function like parliaments or governments - or even
the Paris Commune - in continuous session. They met discontinuously, with
executive committees managing their affairs. Though the Bolsheviks took
power in the name of the soviets, in reality the central all-Russia coordination
of the soviets was provided by the political parties - Mensheviks and
SRs, and later Bolsheviks. It was Sovnarkom, the government
formed by the Bolsheviks and initially including some of their allies,
and its ability to reach out through the Bolshevik Party as a national
organisation, which ‘solved’ the crisis of authority affecting Russia
in 1917.
Subsequent history confirms this judgment. Workers’ councils and similar
forms have appeared in many strike waves and revolutionary crises since
1917. In none have these forms been able to offer an alternative centre
of authority, an alternative decision-making mechanism for the whole society.
This role is unavoidably played by a government - either based on the
surviving military-bureaucratic state core, or on the existing organisations
of the workers’ movement.
In Cuba, for example, the overreaction of the Batista regime to a small
guerrilla organisation, the July 26 Movement, in November 1958 triggered
a general strike which brought the regime down. The ensuing two years
saw a succession of government arrangements and a continuing wave of action
by the working class in various forms. The end result was a party-state
regime formed by the merger of a minority of the July 26 Movement with
the much larger Popular Socialist Party (Communist Party). It was the
PSP which, in the end, provided the alternative centre of authority.
Present relevance
The falsity of the line of ‘All power to the soviets’ brings us momentarily
back to the current debate in the French Ligue. At least some in the Ligue
have recognised the falsity of their variant of ‘All power to the soviets’
- the ‘organs of dual power’ line of the Tenth Congress of the Mandelite
Fourth International (or, as Artous and Durand put it, the strategy of
the insurrectionary general strike). But then the question is, what
strategy? Durand’s strategy is a version of Eurocommunism, and this
was itself a variant of the positions argued by Bernstein and the right
wing of the Second International. We have seen in this article that this
is no strategy either.
We should also have seen that the problem with both strategies centres
on the questions of government as a central coordinating authority, and
the role and structural forms of the military-bureaucratic state. The
right sought to form governments based on the existing state; the left
adopted a strategy which, at the end of the day, evaded the whole problem
of state authority. In truth, these issues, originally debated between
the 1870s and 1900s, are live, unresolved questions in today’s politics.
In the next article we will see what, if anything, the centre tendency
in the Second International led by Karl Kautsky - which until 1914 included
the Bolsheviks - has to teach us on these issues.
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