Donald and Lydia interview Yassamine Mather, former Fedayeen (minority) guerrilla fighter, chair of the Hands off the People of Iran coalition and editor of Critique. The episode starts off with the history of the debates leading to the formation of the minority Fedayeen faction, and why they decide to break from the majority Fedayeen faction, take up arms and start a guerilla/focoist campaign against the Iranian Republic after the 1979 revolution. Yassamine also offers her account of why the left failed to take advantage of the 1979 situation, the problems with focoism and guerilla tactics, as well as her thoughts on the 2019 protests in Iran, and how the international left and Iranian exiles should relate to the Islamic Republic.
Matthew Strupp lays out the politics of revolutionary defeatism in contrast to the approaches of third-campism and third-worldism.
Reads ‘Aha Sorrow to the Capitalist, We Will Drive Him Into the Black Sea’. Soviet Union, 1920
In April 1964, at a luxury hotel overlooking Lake Geneva, a young Jean Ziegler, at that time a communist militant, asked Che Guevara, for whom he was serving as chauffeur, if he could come to the Congo with him as a fighter in the commandante’s upcoming guerilla campaign. Che replied, pointing at the city of Geneva, “Here is the brain of the monster. Your fight is here.”1 Che Guevara, though certainly not a first-world chauvinist, recognized the crucial role communists in the imperialist countries would have to play if the global revolutionary movement were to be successful. How then, as communists in close proximity to the brain of the monster, or in its belly, as Che is reported to have put it on another occasion, can we effectively stand against the interests of “our” imperialist governments? The answer to that question is the policy of revolutionary defeatism. This article will go over the origins and meaning of defeatism, take a look at its complexities with the help of some examples, and take up the challenge posed to it by the politics of both third-worldism and third-campism.
Origins of Defeatism
The logic of revolutionary defeatism flows from the basic Marxist premise that the proletariat is an international class, and that in order to triumph on a global scale it needs to coordinate its political struggle internationally. This means that when workers in one country are faced with actions by “their” state that pose a threat to the working class of another country, they must be loyal to their comrades abroad rather than their masters at home. Rather than be content with simple condemnations, they must also pursue an active policy against their state’s ability to victimize the members of their class in the other country. This means strike actions in strategic industries, dissemination of defeatist propaganda in the armed forces, and organizing enlisted soldiers against their officers. In the case of a particularly unpopular or difficult war, all politics tends to be reoriented around the war question, and, if the state has been destabilized by the demands of the war and the ongoing defeatist activity of the workers’ movement, this can lead to an immediate struggle for power and the possibility of proletarian victory. If no such conditions are present, the defeatist policy can serve to train the proletariat and its political movement to oppose the predatory behavior of its state and, in practical terms, blunt the business-end of imperialism and mitigate its devastating consequences for the working class abroad.
This policy of defeatism developed alongside the growth of mass-working class politics in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, when the proletarian movement grew to the point where its international policy became a live and important question. There were many positions bandied about in this period, some more or less defeatist, others placing the workers’ movement squarely behind national defense. Many individual socialists, including Marx and Engels, varied in their advocacy of one or another. An early expression of a policy of revolutionary defeatism can be seen in Engels’ 1875 letter to August Bebel, in which he criticizes the newly drafted Gotha Unification Program of the German Social-Democratic Party (SPD) for downplaying the need for international unity of the workers’ movement. Engels writes:
“…the principle that the workers’ movement is an international one is, to all intents and purposes, utterly denied in respect of the present, and this by men who, for the space of five years and under the most difficult conditions, upheld that principle in the most laudable manner. The German workers’ position in the van of the European movement rests essentially on their genuinely international attitude during the war; no other proletariat would have behaved so well. And now this principle is to be denied by them at a moment when, everywhere abroad, workers are stressing it all the more by reason of the efforts made by governments to suppress every attempt at its practical application in an organisation! And what is left of the internationalism of the workers’ movement? The dim prospect — not even of subsequent co-operation among European workers with a view to their liberation — nay, but of a future ‘international brotherhood of peoples’ — of your Peace League bourgeois ‘United States of Europe’!”2
Engels is congratulating the German workers’ movement for their internationalist behavior in war but chiding them for retreating from this internationalism in their political program. The war he is referring to is the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871. Marx had actually initially been German defensist in this war but changed his position after German troops went on the offensive.3 The German workers’ movement as a whole, though, mostly opposed the war in an admirable fashion, and Engels claims this was the reason for their esteem in the international movement. Not only did its political leaders condemn the war, but its organizations also carried out strikes in vital war industries in the Rhineland. This active stance of opposition to the war and active coordination of international political activity by the working class is what Engels thought was missing from this part of the Gotha Program, and he thought it was a step down from the truly international perspective of the International Workingmens’ Association. Its drafters included the vague internationalist language of the “Peace League bourgeois”, but made no mention of the practical tasks of the movement in this respect. Engels argued that the workers’ movement needed to coordinate its activities on an international scale, and that included acting in an internationalist fashion during war-time.
Nor did Engels limit his expression of a precursor to revolutionary defeatism to wars within Europe, where there was a developed working-class movement that could be destroyed in another country by an invasion from one’s own. He thought it was also applicable in matters of “colonial policy”, and that workers in imperialist countries had the political task of organized opposition to imperialist exploitation. He believed that if they failed in this task they would become political accomplices of their bourgeoisie. In an 1858 letter to Marx he wrote:
“the English proletariat is actually becoming more and more bourgeois, so that the ultimate aim of this most bourgeois of all nations would appear to be the possession, alongside the bourgeoisie, of a bourgeois aristocracy and a bourgeois proletariat. In the case of a nation which exploits the entire world this is, of course, justified to some extent.”4
These writings of Engels’ express two important features of Lenin’s revolutionary defeatist policy in World War I and that of the Communist International after the war. Namely, the importance of active, organized efforts to hamper the ability of one’s own state to carry out the business of war and imperialism, and the applicability of the policy to both inter-imperialist wars and to colonial and semi-colonial/predatory imperialist wars.
The Second Socialist International received the first major test of its ability to pursue a defeatist policy with the onset of World War One– and it failed spectacularly. Up until that point, the German SPD, the model party of the International, had followed an admirable policy of voting down all state budgets of the German Empire in the Reichstag under the slogan “For this system, not one man and not one penny!”, as Wilhelm Liebknecht declared at the foundation of the Bismarckian Reich.5 This policy allowed the German party to think of its parliamentary activity with a lens of radical opposition, through which they saw themselves as infiltrators in the enemy camp, intent on causing as much trouble for the state and its ability to rule as possible and securing whatever measures they could to benefit the movement outside the parliament. They made use of all the procedural stops they had at their disposal along the way, and used their parliamentary immunity to decry abuses like violence against the workers’ movement and German colonial wars in ways that would otherwise be illegal, though this didn’t keep August Bebel and Wilhelm Liebknect, for many years the SPD’s two representatives in the Reichstag, from being convicted of treason and imprisoned for two years for their opposition to the Franco-Prussian War, particularly for linking opposition to German annexation of Alsace-Lorraine to support for the Paris Commune.6 This was not a revolutionary defeatist policy in itself and the behavior of socialists in relation to the armed forces in wartime remained untheorized, but it was an important attitude for a party of revolutionaries to adopt towards their own state and its warfighting capacity. Politicians the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) has elected in the United States, unfortunately, do not seem to see their activity in the legislature in this way and seem to think they are there more to “get things done” than to “hold things up” for the benefit of the movement. The DSA has also failed to adopt a “not one penny” position on the military budget. A resolution to do so was introduced at the 2019 convention, but was not championed by either of the main factions there.
Wilhelm Liebknecht and August Bebel on trial, Holzstich, 1872
In August 1914 the SPD’s anti-militarist discipline broke down, as many of its representatives in the Reichstag voted for German war credits and much of the movement fell in line behind the war effort. The same happened in all the other parties of the International in the belligerent countries, with the exception of Russia and Serbia. The divide between those who supported the war and those who opposed it did not follow the existing pre-war political divisions. War socialists were drawn from the right, left, and center of the International. Some made the decision on the basis of “national defense” or out of an unwillingness to become unacceptable to bourgeois politics when they were winning so many reforms for the working class, others to defend French liberty from the Kaiser, or German liberty from the Tsar, still others to defeat British finance capital’s grip on the world, or to spark a revolution, or to train the proletariat in the martial spirit for the waging of the class struggle.7 No matter how they justified it though, these socialists were all feeding the proletariat into the meat grinder of imperialist war. There were no progressive belligerents in the First World War. Categories of “aggressor” and “victim” did not apply. It was, as Lenin put it, an “imperialist war for the division and redivision” of the spoils of global exploitation.8
The immediate reaction of those in the socialist movement opposed to the war after the capitulation of so many of the national parties was to organize a series of conferences at Zimmerwald (1915), Kienthal (1916), and Stockholm (1917), to work out a socialist peace policy. At Zimmerwald there soon emerged a left, who favored a policy of class struggle against the war, essentially a revolutionary defeatist position, since carrying it out would detract from the coherence and fighting ability of the armed forces. Lenin sided with this left but said they hadn’t gone far enough, not only did a policy of class struggle against the war, or as he put it: revolutionary defeatism, need to be put forward, but socialists loyal to the international proletariat had to organize themselves separately in order to be able to carry it out.9 This struggle would be a political one, directed at the armed forces of the capitalist state and aiming for their breakup under the pressure of defeatist propaganda and fraternization between the troops of the belligerent countries. On the concrete form of this struggle Lenin wrote, in November of 1914, in The Position and Tasks of the Socialist International:
“War is no chance happening, no “sin” as is thought by Christian priests (who are no whit behind the opportunists in preaching patriotism, humanity and peace), but an inevitable stage of capitalism, just as legitimate a form of the capitalist way of life as peace is. Present-day war is a people’s war. What follows from this truth is not that we must swim with the “popular” current of chauvinism, but that the class contradictions dividing the nations continue to exist in wartime and manifest themselves in conditions of war. Refusal to serve with the forces, anti-war strikes, etc., are sheer nonsense, the miserable and cowardly dream of an unarmed struggle against the armed bourgeoisie, vain yearning for the destruction of capitalism without a desperate civil war or a series of wars. It is the duty of every socialist to conduct propaganda of the class struggle, in the army as well; work directed towards turning a war of the nations into civil war is the only socialist activity in the era of an imperialist armed conflict of the bourgeoisie of all nations.”10
Lenin did not think that the adoption of a revolutionary defeatist position by communists in the imperialist countries was only applicable to the specific conditions of World War I, where the conflict was reactionary on all sides and the proletariat had well developed political organizations in all the belligerent countries who could turn the struggle against the war into an immediate struggle for power. In response to the objection of the Italian socialist leader Serrati to a resolution proposed by the Zimmerwald left that advocated a class struggle against the war, that such a resolution would be moot because the war was likely to end quickly, Lenin said: “I do not agree with Serrati that the resolution will appear either too early or too late. After this war, other, mainly colonial, wars will be waged. Unless the proletariat turns off the social-imperialist way, proletarian solidarity will be completely destroyed; that is why we must determine common tactics.”11Here, the revolutionary defeatist policy is not simply a path to the immediate struggle for power, as it indeed was in the case of WWI, rather it’s related to the adoption of a particular attitude to the activities of one’s own state in general. For communists in the imperialist countries, this means fighting against the wars your country wages to maintain its grip over its colonies and semi-colonies, using the same tactics you would use in the case of a “dual defeatism” scenario, where communists in all the belligerent countries are defeatist in relation to their country’s war effort, in an inter-imperialist war that is reactionary on all sides.
In a war between imperialist powers, a dual defeatist policy is the correct path forward for communists
However, these two scenarios should not be confused. Although Lenin claimed the policy pursued in response to one should be put forward in the case of the other, this should not be extended to the communists in the oppressed country. There is no question of being “defeatist” in relation to a progressive war for national liberation. The Communist International made this clear in condition 8 of its 21 conditions for affiliation:
“Parties in countries whose bourgeoisie possess colonies and oppress other nations must pursue a most well-defined and clear-cut policy in respect of colonies and oppressed nations. Any party wishing to join the Third International must ruthlessly expose the colonial machinations of the imperialists of its “own” country, must support—in deed, not merely in word—every colonial liberation movement, demand the expulsion of its compatriot imperialists from the colonies, inculcate in the hearts of the workers of its own country an attitude of true brotherhood with the working population of the colonies and the oppressed nations, and conduct systematic agitation among the armed forces against all oppression of the colonial peoples.”12
The important point here is that revolutionary defeatism in a predatory imperialist war is only a prescription for communists and proletarian movements in the imperialist countries. Today this means those that benefit from a flow of value coming from global wage arbitrage and the super-exploitation of newly proletarianized former peasants in the former colonial and semi-colonial world. In such a war, the question of defeatism or defensism in the oppressed countries, in the realm of practical policy, is precisely a question for communists in the oppressed countries themselves. This question should be decided on the basis of how best to serve the ends of national liberation and social revolution, taking the particular national political conditions and those of the war into account, but the victory of the oppressed country should be favored over that of the imperialist country.
The Communist International itself may actually have gone too far in the direction of defensism, not in the sense of favoring the victory of the oppressed country, which should always be the case, but in the sense of the relationship of communists in the oppressed countries to their state and to other political forces. Its policy of the anti-imperialist united front was ambiguously formulated and its implementation often involved subordinating the communist parties to the bourgeois nationalist movements. The most notorious example being the case of China, where Comintern directives on the Communist Party’s relationship to the Kuomintang had to be explicitly rejected by Mao and his co-thinkers for the Chinese Revolution to triumph.13This logic has been taken to the extreme in recent years by the Spartacist League, a far-left sect that has devoted space in their paper to putting forward a position of military support for ISIS: “We take a military side with ISIS when it targets the imperialists and forces acting as their proxies, including the Baghdad government and the Shi’ite militias as well as the Kurdish pesh merga forces in Northern Iraq and the Syrian Kurdish nationalists.”14 The cases of China and modern Iraq and Syria show that sometimes in cases of internal disorder or when the forces “resisting the imperialists” are particularly reactionary, whether the Kuomintang or ISIS, the best option for communists and the anti-imperialist struggle is for communists in the oppressed country to wage a military struggle against both the imperialists and the reactionary forces “resisting” them.
Vietnam
The most successful application of revolutionary defeatist tactics in the US was in the case of the Vietnam war. The best-known images of the anti-war movement in the US are of large public marches and of police repression on college campuses. The truth is that these things were actually pretty ineffective at producing a US defeat and withdrawal. Large demonstrations can do something to turn public opinion against the war and college students were able to take some actions that made a meaningful difference by taking advantage of their positions in a crucial part of the war machine: the university; but these things were not enough to halt the functioning of the most destructive imperialist military in history. We can verify this by comparing the movement against the war in Vietnam with that against the war in Iraq. As with Vietnam, the Iraq war was opposed by millions of demonstrators, including by between 6 and 11 million people on a single day, February 15, 2003, the largest single-day protest in world history; yet the war kept going.15
What was the difference in Vietnam? The answer lies both in the brilliant military strategy of the Vietnamese liberation movement under the leadership of the Communist Party, and in the practical application of a revolutionary defeatist policy by sections of the US far-left and workers’ movement. This meant disrupting the recruitment of the US armed forces, and especially, organizing opposition within the military itself. This resulted in a situation where “search-and-evade” tactics became the ordinary state of affairs for many units, as common soldiers deliberately avoided combat or simulated the appearance and sounds of combat to deceive their officers, over 600 soldiers carried out “fraggings”, murders or attempted murders of their officers, often with frag grenades, and groups of soldiers occasionally carried out organized mutinies. By June 1971 this state of widespread organized resistance to the war led military historian Colonel Robert D. Heinl to write an article titled The Collapse of the Armed Forces, in which he claimed that “The morale, discipline and battleworthiness of the U.S. Armed Forces are, with a few salient exceptions, lower and worse than at any time in this century and possibly in the history of the United States.”16 This was undeniably a key factor in the breakdown of US warfighting ability in Vietnam and the eventual US withdrawal.
Mutinies and domestic resistance from US troops in Vietnam were key the imperialist defeat
Some insist that the example of war resisters in the US military during the occupation of Vietnam, and by extension, the entire premise of a policy of active revolutionary defeatism, is entirely useless to today’s revolutionary movement because the nature of the US military has been entirely transformed by the transition to an all-volunteer force in the late-70’s and 80’s. What this position misses is the extent to which the claim that the US military is an all-volunteer force is itself an ideological artifice crafted by the US military establishment and the degree to which poverty itself still acts as a draft. The US military does not make public information on the income-levels or class positions of the families from which it recruits, only their geographic distribution. The fact that the localities that enlistees are drawn from are more affluent than average does not rule out that the enlistees themselves may be poor. The higher cost of living in these areas may in fact be an additional stimulus to enlistment, and the fact that military recruiters regularly use material incentives, like the promise of a free education, to prey on working-class kids, is no secret. This means that the class divide in the armed forces has not entirely been eliminated, that officers’ interests still conflict with those of enlistees, and that the possibility of mass war resistance from within the ranks of the armed forces, especially as part of a coordinated working-class struggle against imperialist war, still lies within reach.
Iran and Third-Campism
With the assassination at the beginning of this year of high ranking Iranian general Qassim Soleimani at the hands of the United States, the prospect of war with Iran became a very real possibility. In fact, a section of the US foreign policy establishment has been hellbent on bombing or invading Iran since the 1979 Islamic Revolution that established the current Iranian regime, and the US has imposed harsh sanctions on Iran that themselves amount to a form of warfare. These sanctions have no doubt contributed to the severity of the COVID-19 outbreak in Iran, which has killed 988 and infected over 16,000, roughly 9 in 10 cases in the Middle East.17 Although the immediate worry about an invasion has died down since January, it’s still important for communists to work out what their response to such an invasion would be, because the threat remains on the table.
The main question is whether a revolutionary defeatist policy in relation to a war with Iran should be pursued or whether a Third-Campist position of “Neither Washington nor Tehran” ought to be put forward. The idea of Third-Campism, in this case, is that the political regimes of the United States and of Iran are both so reactionary that the proletariat has no stake in either side’s victory or defeat in the war and should, therefore, neither support nor actively oppose its prosecution by the imperialists. This approach is flawed. If we were considering a war between two imperialist countries on equal standing, both with reactionary governments, what this leaves out is the benefit that the proletariat in both the belligerent countries could gain by an active pursuit of a revolutionary defeatist policy. Either, it could open up the road to the seizure of power by the proletariat in one or both belligerent countries or it could only serve to train the proletarian movement in each country in the art of carrying out a struggle against “its own” state.
However, in the case of a US attack on Iran, this “soft Third-Campist” position of dual defeatism, like that implied by the left-communist International Communist Current, when it describes the Middle East after the Soleimani assassination as “dominated by [an] imperialist free for all” would also be wrong because it regards both the United States and Iran as imperialist.18 Such a war would not be reactionary and imperialist on both sides, a reactionary war by the US for the reconquest of one of its semi-colonies. It is no coincidence that the US only became hostile to the Iranian government after the ouster of its puppet the Shah, meaning that the Iranian war effort would contain elements of a progressive national liberation struggle. In the case of a US invasion, the main enemy for Iranians is not at home, their main enemy is imperialism. Communists in Iran are, of course, opposed to the political regime of the Islamic Republic for its brutal suppression of the workers’ movement and its political organizations, its regressive stance on women’s rights, and its treatment of national minorities, but they do not think it fights too vigorously against US imperialism.19Communists in the United States should take the position: “better the defeat of US troops than their victory”, and their task would be to carry out an active policy of revolutionary defeatism against an invasion of Iran. The task of communists in Iran would be to fight off the imperialist invaders by any means necessary, including by opposing any effort by the Iranian government to disarm the Iranian proletariat as it prepares itself to resist an invasion.
Third-Worldism
There is another political strand that downplays the importance of active revolutionary defeatist politics in the imperialist countries: Third-Worldism. In this case, it is not the desirability of the proletariat in the imperialist countries carrying out a revolutionary defeatist policy that is questioned, but its political inclination to do so. All this leaves us with is joystick or sideline politics, the cheering on of great revolutionaries and great revolutionary movements, but always happening somewhere else. This makes Third-Worldism a self-fulfilling prophecy, the denial of the ability of the proletariat in the imperialist countries to challenge the imperialist bourgeoisie which exploits both them (usually rationalized by saying that proletarians in the imperialist countries are equally exploiters) and their comrade workers around the world, becomes a reason not to organize to do so. Of course a fraction of the super-profits of imperialism is sometimes distributed to workers in the imperialist countries with the aim of purchasing their loyalty to the bourgeois state. Our point is to build a movement capable of credibly offering something better than that: communism.
The idea that politics flows directly from the movement of money is an economist error, if it were true, all communist politics would be pointless, because that factor will never be in our favor. Rather, international working-class consciousness will necessarily be a subjective product of common struggle, including the anti-imperialist struggle. It is likely, as Trotsky argues in his History of the Russian Revolution, that for reasons of combined and uneven development, the world revolution will be sparked in the oppressed countries first, but that process will not ultimately be successful if revolution does not come to the imperialist countries as well.20 Most great Third-World revolutionaries have been clear about this, Che certainly was. Indeed, as the late Egyptian communist, Samir Amin wrote in Imperialism and Unequal Development:
“…Third-Worldism is strictly a European phenomenon [we may say a phenomenon of the imperialist countries]. Its proponents seize upon literary expressions, such as ‘the East wind will prevail over the West wind’ or ‘the storm centers,’ to justify the impossibility of struggle for socialism in the West, rather than grasping the fact that the necessary struggle for socialism passes, in the West, also by way of anti-imperialist struggle in Western society itself… But in no case was Third-Worldism a movement of the Third-World or in the Third-World.”21
Third-Worldism began as an optimistic reaction to successful national liberation struggles in the oppressed countries in the mid-20th century, but to the extent that it exists today, it is simply a symptom of our defeat. Third-Worldism may produce amusing artefacts like That Hate Amerikkka Beat, but it offers nothing to the practical struggle for global proletarian revolution because it refuses to even consider what might need to be done to make revolution in the imperialist countries. None of this is to discount the work of communists in the Third-World, who are doing their part in fighting imperialism and their bourgeoisie. The problem with Third-Worldism is that it’s a poor form of solidarity that looks not to the ways in which one can most practically ensure the final triumph of those one is in solidarity with.
The Upcoming Battle
The goal of communists in the imperialist countries should be to create, to quote once again Che Guevara, “two, three… many Vietnams”22, not in the sense Che used it, focoistic guerilla campaigns, but in the sense of successful applications of the revolutionary defeatist policy of class struggle against imperialist war, which killed the US military’s ability to maintain the occupation of that country. This means, in the case of unprogressive war, strikes in war industries, spreading defeatist propaganda in the armed forces, and organizing common soldiers against their officers and the war effort. We must also fight for a truly democratic-republican military policy in peacetime, rejecting foreign intervention by the United States and fighting for the universal arming and military training of the people and the right to freely organize in militias for the proletariat, as well as freedom of speech and association for the ranks of the present-day armed forces. “War is the continuation of politics by other means”23 and now is a time of relative peace, a time for politics, a time to build up our forces, to train them to become a honed weapon of class struggle, and “not to fritter away this daily increasing shock force in vanguard skirmishes.”24 But a time of war is coming, and we must have those “other means” at our disposal, we must be prepared to crush our enemies and to use the destructive and atrocious wars conjured up by the bourgeoisie as opportunities to turn the imperialist war into a civil war, to make war on the ruling class as a road to the seizure of power by the proletariat and the triumph of communism.
Lydia Apolinar writes on Ali Shariati and his use and misuse during the Iranian Revolution.
One of Ali Shariati’s principal influences, Frantz Fanon, once wrote him a letter that conveyed both admiration for the Iranian sociologist’s work and apprehension toward his use of religion as the basis for anti-colonial struggle. While acknowledging Islam’s capacity to act as a progressive force against colonialism, he wrote that if leftist intellectuals like Shariati were unable to “breathe this spirit into the weary body of the Muslim orient,” they risked instead contributing to a revival of traditionalism and sectarianism that could “divert … a ‘nation in becoming’ from its ideal future, bringing it closer to its past.”1 The historian Ervand Abrahamian made a similar criticism years after Shariati’s death and the 1979 revolution: “It is significant that Shariati did not even pose the major question that was to trouble his disciples during the Islamic Revolution—the question of whether one could initiate a rebellion under the banner of religion and yet keep the leadership of that rebellion out of the hands of the traditional-minded religious authorities”.2
Shariati, often called the “ideologue of the Iranian Revolution,” developed an eclectic ideology that combined secular philosophical and leftist influences like Fanon, Sartre, Marx, Catholic liberation theology, and the symbolism and language of Shi’ite Islam. He envisioned Shi’ite Islam as a truly emancipatory ideology that, rather than looking back nostalgically at an archaic past, could be used to create a socialist future; an association of believers who, rather than looking inward and thinking only of salvation and the next world, would strive to achieve the monotheistic ideal of a classless society on earth. As much as he was an enemy of monarchy and imperialism, he was also no friend of the clergy, whom he viewed as reducing Islam to a set of unchanging rules and dry, meaningless rituals. His unique ideology inspired students and intellectuals—many of whom sacrificed their lives in guerrilla organizations—to revolutionary actionand is worth examination in depth, particularly because of his co-option by the Islamic Republic in spite of his irreconcilable differences with conservative Islamism. Shariati’s synthesis of Islam and Marxism failed to prevent the domination and takeover of the revolution by clerical conservatives, and, as Fanon and Abrahamian observed, can be said to have unwittingly strengthened them against the secular leftists.
Ali Shariati was born in 1933 in Kahak, a village in northeastern Iran, to a family of clerics and small landowners. His father was a teacher and an Islamic scholar who engaged him in the religious left from an early age, having opened in 1947 the Center for the Propagation of Islamic Truths, an Islamic organization which took a strong nationalist stance in the late 40s and 50s and became involved in the movement for the nationalization of oil. Shariati studied at the Teachers’ Training College in Mashhad, where he became more aware of the class divisions in Iran and the struggle of the expanding urban working class, read a diverse selection of philosophers and political writers, and wrote essays that outlined an immature version of the ideas he would devote his life to.3
Following his first arrest for his political activity, Shariati spent many years in Paris, where he completed his PhD at the Sorbonne. There he spent time with other exiled Iranian intellectuals and helped to found the Freedom Movement of Iran. He also came into contact with figures like Jean-Paul Sartre and Frantz Fanon (whose books he translated). He attended lectures by French orientalists, whose work on Islam and Islamic mysticism influenced him deeply. Particularly interesting was his engagement with the Catholic left, something he would later avoid mention of. Shariati attended lectures by prominent Catholic thinkers like Louis Massignon—whom he once described as the single most important influence on him—and Roger Garaudy, and read Esprit, a Catholic journal that supported national liberation and frequently featured Marxist writers.4
Shariati conceived of the intelligentsia as a political class that, with its educated distance from society, could act as a mediator, the leaders of a “superstructure” that would necessarily transform the mode of production. He shared this position with Mojahedin of Iran (not to be confused with the completely unrelated Mojahedin of Afghanistan; this organization, known by the initials MEK, exists today as a bizarre personality cult favored by U.S. conservatives, but was an interesting and important group in the 60s and 70s). Though he was never directly involved with them, Shariati’s thought was the main ideological influence on the organization, which was mainly composed of the university-educated from petit-bourgeois families. Shariati’s view of the intelligentsia was influenced by Georges Gurvitch, the French sociologist who founded the “school of dialectical sociology” according to which “history was made not by economic classes, but by ‘conscious classes.’”5 The idea of the class struggle featured prominently in Shariati’s work, but primarily as a struggle between political rather than economic classes: in Iran, the only class which could lead the revolution was the intelligentsia, who, with their enlightened, progressive understanding of Islam, would bring society toward true monotheism. Upon his return to Iran, Shariati was immediately arrested and spent several weeks in prison. When he was released, he began to teach at the University of Mashhad. He would later move to Tehran, where he frequently gave wildly popular lectures at the Hosseiniye Ershad Institute, a non-traditionalist religious institution of which he became the central figure.
The idea of “true monotheism” is one Shariati discussed in Religion v. Religion, a book comprising two of his lectures at the Hosseiniye Ershad given in the summer of 1970. This text is in part an attack on secularists who saw the primary conflict in the world and particularly in Iran as being between religion and atheism, or non-religion. Non-religion, he argued, was a new phenomenon, and mostly irrelevant until recently. Religion had always shaped the lives of human beings, and the struggle had always been the most intense within religion itself. He simplified the various religions into two—the religion of monotheism and the religion of “multitheism.” He maintained that it was impossible to separate a religion from its political and social implications, and discussed religion mainly with these implications in mind.
According to Shariati, the religion of multitheism was distinguished by its conservatism. Though many multitheists believed in one creator deity, they also found necessary a multitude of lesser gods that were, in contrast to the universal God of monotheism, confined to specific groups of people based on gender, ethnicity, and most drastically, social and economic class. The work of the multitheist was to convince the poor and oppressed person that “‘I am connected to a lower class not only because my essence is lowly, but because my god is lower than the gods of other races’”.6 He termed multitheism a “religion of legitimation” because it had always worked to legitimize the social classes of the societies in which it appeared, and argued that monotheism was not only the belief in a single God, but also the eternal striving for unity and equality. Since human beings were all the creations of a universal God, there was no natural or sacred justification for domination, whether by the privileged classes over the oppressed classes (a vaguely defined term which variously included and excluded the traditional petite bourgeoisie) or by the core nations over those in the periphery.
Shariati’s conception of multitheism was not limited to the literal belief in multiple gods. He claimed that “throughout history, the work of the religious leaders has been to preserve the religion of multitheism … often by assuming the name of monotheism”.7 While these religious leaders upheld the most superficial monotheism, they worked to preserve the classes that existed in multitheistic society, and those that arose after, making one’s class (and the right to private property) something sacred—the will of God. Shariati viewed the will of God as ultimately inevitable, but he asserted that this will could only be carried out by conscious human beings—and that God’s will was the end of class society. For him, a true believer was not necessarily a Muslim devoted to the formal aspects of religious adherance, such as praying and fasting; true belief was about action. An atheist who brought society closer to the monotheistic ideal could in some cases be preferable to a religious person who was in reality a multitheist in disguise.
A similar essay of his, “Red Shi’ism v. Black Shi’ism,” was another critique of the conservative and apolitical clergy. In this work, Shariati wrote of his conception of the revolutionary nature of Islam in general and Shi’ite Islam in particular. “Islam is the religion which makes its appearance in the history of mankind with the ‘no’ of Muhammad”—the “no” to polytheism and endless tribal warfare on the Arabian peninsula. “Shi’ism is the Islam which distinguishes itself and determines its direction with the ‘no’ of the great Ali”.8 Shi’a Muslims have always placed particular importance on Hussain, the grandson of the Prophet, and on his martyrdom—Hussain was killed in battle against an Umayyad caliph viewed by many Muslims as unjust and un-pious. In another essay on martyrdom, Shariati wrote that
“Hussain’s meaning becomes clear when we understand his relationship to that flow of movements which we have discussed in earlier lectures which historically begins with Abraham. This meaning should be made clear and Hussain’s revolution must be interpreted. To view Hussain and the battle of Karbala as isolated from historical and social circumstances would force us, as indeed it has for many of us, to view the man and the event purely as an unfortunate, if not tragic occurrence in the past and something for us to merely cry about (and we certainly do continue to cry) rather than as an eternal and transcendent phenomenon. To separate Karbala and Hussain from their historical and ideological context is to dissect a living body, to remove only a part of it and to examine it in exclusion of the living system of the body.”9
The question that arose for Shariati was of what to emphasize—Hussain, the man, and his action, which could be considered a model for martyrs in the guerrilla movements, or the simple tragedy of his martyrdom?
In “Islamology,” Shariati sought to define what he meant when he said that Islam must become not only a religion but an ideology. He gave the example of a physicist who followed a particular ideology, whose approach to physics was part of the whole, encompassed by a systematic worldview. Islam had to take on a similar role for the Muslim sociologist, because “all of the views on economics, sociology, religion, philosophy, and even on art and literature … have a cause and effect relationship to each other.”10 Without ideology, history was nothing but a meaningless mass of facts, the “lies that people have agreed upon.” He admonished sociologists who attempted to be non-ideological and apolitical, which he viewed as both impossible and undesirable. Islam offered both a systematic framework within which to analyze history and positive prescriptions for immediate political changes, and it was up to Islamic intellectuals to discover what they were and implement them.
Shariati on the left
In this text, Shariati used the word “utopia” in a positive sense, and defended it against socialists who mocked it as non-materialist and unscientific. He wrote that utopia “is the ideal society that one conceives of in one’s own mind [and] desires and struggles for so that human society takes that form. All philosophies, religions and human beings have a different type of utopia in their minds. Paradise is the utopia or ideal society in the mind of a religious man. Plato’s utopia was the ideal city for the aristocratic Greeks and intellectuals of his age. The City of God of St. Augustine … are all ideal societies … Essentially, the existence of an imaginary society proves that the human being is always moving from the ‘present situation’ to a more ‘desirable situation,’ whether it be imaginary, scientific, the utopia of Plato or the classless society of Marx”.11 This ideal society would also need its “ideal citizen,” a prototype of a human being who has reached the highest possible potential. An important part of progress would be to encourage people to actively aspire to this height. According to Shariati (who had a strained relationship with Iranian Marxists), “even Marxism, which is based on ‘materialism’ and which, as our intellectuals explain it, views the human being as an economic animal, speaks about a ‘total human being’ who has not become imperfect, paralyzed, cut into pieces or alienated. He has not been made insane by the system or been metamorphosed … He is neither a master nor a slave”.12 An example he gave of an “ideal human being” in Islam was Abu Dharr al-Ghifari al-Kinani, an early Muslim who protested corruption and accumulation of wealth and agitated for a more fair distribution of wealth, and who Shariati saw as the first Islamic socialist.13
In some ways Shariati’s thought was a reaction to Marxism, an answer to its criticisms of religion and an attempt to create an independent Islamic socialism. Many of Shariati’s ideas came from Marx, and he often took Marxist terms and imbued them with religious meanings, as he simultaneously gave to theological terms meanings that resembled Marxist concepts. Shariati’s relationship to Marxism was complicated: though in his youth he had praised certain authors as “Muslim Marxists,” in his later years he was frequently critical of Marxism.14 He certainly admired Marx as a social scientist, but took issue with aspects of his philosophy and approach to history and politics. He seemed to view Marxism, or at least the Iranian Marxists, as reducing the analysis of human history to a narrow economic determinism and as dismissing spiritual concerns as “non-materialist.” The work in which Shariati most thoroughly criticized Marxism, Marxism and Other Western Fallacies, is of questionable authenticity; a collection of early essays and lectures, it was published many years after they were written, against his wishes, in a state-run journal.15 In the text, he criticized liberalism, existentialism, and Marxism for their “materialistic” conception of humanism, which opposed God under the false belief that He was anti-human—which may have been true of western Christianity, but had nothing to do with Islam, which was founded on the unity of God and humanity—and dismissed Marxism as yet another “western fallacy,” another European ideology imposed on Iran.16 One of the Shah’s favored tactics was to play Islam and Marxism against each other, and an outright denunciation of Marxism by Shariati, who had been critical but not unwilling to work with and support Marxists in their shared struggle, was of great use to the monarchy.
Shi’ite Islam had always been more formally structured and centralized than Sunni Islam. This was partially because, unlike most Sunni schools of jurisprudence, the Ja’fari school (the Twelver Shi’i school of jurisprudence) left open the door to ijtihad, or the use of independent reasoning in the interpretation of Islamic texts, usually in regards to legal questions. In order to maintain a degree of consistency and order in the faith, this privilege was reserved for Islamic scholars of the highest order, or marja al-taqlid. A Shi’i follower could choose among these formally recognized experts, who sometimes differed in their interpretations, but were obliged to choose one and follow his judgments absolutely. Shariati recognized the need for intellectual authority, but wanted to expand the privilege of ijtihad to intellectuals in general, and potentially also to ordinary Muslims who were creative and thoughtful enough to participate in the process. His concept of ijtihad also referred to much more than legal rulings and prescriptions on personal behavior—it entailed a process of refiguring the meaning of Islam in its entirety and its relation to modern problems.
Another idea of importance to Shariati was martyrdom, an ideal that was essential to the Iranian guerrilla groups, both Islamic and socialist. Taking inspiration at once from Shi’a doctrine and from the insurrectionary anarchist concept of “propaganda of the deed,” these various groups—the Muslim Mojahedin and their Marxist-Leninist splinter group Peykar, the Marxist Fedayeen, and others—may have had serious theoretical and practical disagreements, but they were united in their veneration of martyrdom. With the exception of occasional efforts, in the face of failure and continuous fatalities, to move towards organizing mass movements, these groups focused on operations they knew to be suicidal and risky assassinations. Shariati was not directly involved in any of the guerrilla movements—he called himself “emotionally and spiritually weak” for that reason—but provided most of the theory upon which the Muslim Mojahedin based their existence, and passionately praised martyrdom in a collection of lectures, Martyrdom: Arise and Bear Witness. His respect for the ideal of martyrdom brought him to the height of emotion, and according to him it had a vital significance to Shi’a and Iranian culture: “The story of martyrdom and that which martyrdom challenges is so sensitive, so belovedly exciting that it pulls the spirit towards the fire. It paralyzes logic. It weakens speech. It even makes thinking difficult. Martyrdom is a mixture of a refined love and a deep, complex wisdom. One cannot express these two at the same time and so, as a result, one cannot do them justice. In order to understand the meaning of martyrdom, the ideological school from which it takes its meaning, its expression and its value should be clarified. In European countries, the word martyr stems from ‘mortal’ which means ‘death’ or ‘to die.’17 One of the basic principles in Islam (and in particular in Shi’ite culture), however, is ‘sacrifice and bear witness.’ So instead of martyrdom, i.e. death, it essentially means ‘life’, ‘evidence’, ‘testify’, ‘certify.’ These words, martyrdom and bearing witness, show the differences which exist between the vision of Shi’ite Islamic culture and the other cultures of the world.” Martyrdom was not the tragic end of an individual life, but rather the complete commitment of that life to a cause, belief, or idea—the highest honor one could achieve, it was not a “means, but a goal in itself”.
Seeking martyrdom was not viable as a political strategy, however. The Mojahedin experienced a continuous loss of its membership, and though they were popular among university students, they failed to appeal strongly to the working class. Their combination of anti-monarchy radicalism and Shi’a tradition appealed particularly to the university-educated from traditional bourgeois, devout families, while Marxism was more popular among the urban working class and oil workers in the south. Among the traditional bourgeoisie themselves, they may have had some appeal with their emphasis on Shi’ism, but they insulted the “sacred right to private property” and were at best ambivalent, and often hostile, toward the clergy, who the bazaar shop owners looked to as the traditional leaders of their communities.18 Though they were influential in 1979, the Mojahedin would have benefited from focusing on mass organization rather than propaganda of the deed.
The Shah’s government lacked firm foundations in the social classes of Iran. Though it generally favored large industrial capitalists, particularly in its extensive development plans, it initially dealt with the inflationary economic crisis of the 70s by arresting well-known “industrial feudalists” in an anti-profiteering campaign which “caused schizophrenia among rich entrepreneurs. On the one hand they benefited from the socioeconomic system … on the other hand they suffered from the political system, which placed their wealth and futures in the hands of one man.”19 The Resurgence Party, which held hegemonic power after 1975 as the country’s only legal political party, attempted to appeal to the left, declaring an intention to synthesize socialism and capitalism in its path toward the success of the White Revolution. In its anti-profiteering campaign, it quickly refocused its energy from large capitalists to the small bourgeoisie, the latter of which complained that the government, in imposing strict price controls on basic commodities and organizing “inspectorate teams” to wage a “merciless crusade against profiteers,” was beginning to resemble a Communist one, and the White Revolution a Red one. The anti-profiteering campaign ignited the anger of the small bourgeoisie, while the government’s war against traditional culture simultaneously offended their conservative sensibilities. Guild Courts sentenced hundreds of thousands of businessmen, and imprisoned around 8,000. In the face of this harsh treatment, the conservative small bourgeoisie began to speak of revolution.20
Of course, the Shah’s government was not communist, and for all its show of anti-profiteering, it repressed the working class more consistently and with far greater brutality. Since the 1953 CIA-orchestrated coup that overthrew Mohammad Mossadegh, the popular nationalist politician who represented the struggle for the nationalization of the oil industry, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi regained the absolute power his father held before his abdication in 1941. In the period between 1953 and 1978, the communist and largely working-class Tudeh Party was banned, many of its members arrested and over 40 leading members executed, socialist newspapers made illegal, and all independent unions replaced with unions under the direct control of the state. The working class was left largely unorganized and its struggle confined to sporadic illegal strikes.21 As anti-monarchy demonstrations escalated, however, and the government’s grip on power grew weaker, socialist organizations resumed their activities. This was also in the midst of the recession the government engineered to deal with inflation, which led to rising unemployment and falling wages. The Shah reacted to the demands of the working class in a televised press conference that became notorious: “This is intolerable. Those who do not work, we shall take them by the tail and throw them out like mice. He who does not do his job properly is betraying not only his conscience but his patriotic duty … I remember a few years ago a mason … was prepared to work a whole day for a mere meal.”22 The response to the government’s harsh labor policy was an enormous increase of strikes and demonstrations. Striking workers brought the country to an economic halt, with strikes especially prevalent in oil, communications, heavy industries, and power plants.23 The working class, repressed into dormancy since 1953, took its place in the summer of 1978 at the center of the revolution.
Though the 1979 revolution was made by a diverse group of Marxists, Islamists, and Islamic socialists—students, workers, and small bourgeoisie—Khomeini and his group of clerical conservatives took control in the years that followed, consolidating power completely by 1981. This happened for a number of reasons. First of all, Khomeini had a stronger base among the traditional bourgeoisie than Shariati had in any mass segment of society. Also, though he was openly and fervidly anti-communist, Khomeini was a careful politician who managed to endear himself to, or at least to avoid open confrontation with, all the various sides of the opposition, including Marxists who attempted to represent a left alternative within the new Islamic political order (with the exception of a few of the communist guerrilla groups). When asked by another cleric to condemn Shariati’s irreverently anti-clerical speeches at the Hosseiniye Ershad, Khomeini refused, having been well aware of the latter’s popularity. He avoided addressing sensitive and divisive issues such as women’s rights, and rather than revealing the socially conservative positions which would later become the focus of the Islamic Republic’s policy, instead made vague proclamations about the triumph of the masses, or of the suffering of the wretched, borrowing language from Shariati and Fanon. He appealed to the working class while simultaneously promising to protect private property. Khomeini attempted to be everything to everyone, at once a progressive and a guardian of tradition, and was remarkably successful in doing so.24
The attitude of the Mojahedin to Khomeini was confused and contradictory. They could not entirely resist his charismatic appeal, and continuously sought the advantage of an alliance with such an influential religious figure. Though at the time he wouldn’t publicly condemn the Mojahedin, Khomeini received them coldly when a contingent came to visit him in Iraq, advising them to purify themselves from socialist delusions and return to true Islam.25 In spite of this experience, the Mojahedin remained ambivalent toward Khomeini until after his power was consolidated.
Secular leftist organizations remained equally ambivalent, with the Tudeh Party offering its support for the Islamic Republic in its early years. Workers’ councils were formed from the strike committees of the revolution, and by the time of its victory, all major industrial plants were under their control. Initially, most of the councils supported the Islamic Republic, and adhered to Khomeini’s back-to-work decree. However, tensions began to form early on as the working class demanded radical change—an immediate improvement of working conditions and wages, nationalization of industry, workers’ participation in management—while the country’s new leaders were content to stick to the status quo. Following the fall of Bazargan’s provisional government, the councils wouldn’t back down and refused to become mere appendages of the new state, and were replaced with “Islamic Councils” which “while creating an atmosphere of terror in the workplace, moved towards a thorough-going indoctrination of workers”.26 Workers suffered terribly through the long war with Iraq, with longer hours and lower wages imposed on them, as well as mandatory war fundraising and involuntary transfer to the front. The new Labor Law, passed after years of deliberation, was even more reactionary than that of the Shah when it came to the right of workers to organize.
Having died in 1977 at only 43—supposedly of a heart attack, though many suspected SAVAK was responsible—Shariati never saw the revolution he helped to shape. After extensive persecution and repeated attempts at reconciliation, in the early to mid 1980s the Mojahedin changed their position to one of militant opposition to the Islamic Republic. After organizing mass demonstrations which failed to effectively challenge the new regime, they retreated into exile, where they became increasingly insular and intense in their cult of personality around Massoud Rajavi. The organization went on to support Saddam Hussein in the Iran–Iraq war, a decision that led most Iranians to distrust them deeply, and continued to carry out terrorist attacks and assassinations while becoming increasingly alienated from the population.
Today, a street in Tehran is named after Shariati, and “no one loved Khomeini so dearly as he did,” according to Supreme Leader Khamenei.27 Yet Shariati’s vision of Islam as a theology of liberation differed dramatically from the reactionary politics of the Islamic Republic, and one wonders whether he would have survived the mass executions of the early 1980s, in which so many leftist revolutionaries died. Though his is not the ideology of the Islamic Republic, it was an indispensable part of the Iranian Revolution—an inspiration to the millions of workers and students who participated in a revolution that was much more complex and dynamic than the caricature all too common in the West of a mob of mullahs angry at social progress. At once a Muslim and a socialist, Shariati was a formidable rival of conservative Islamism; in his thought was a genuine liberation theology in which “the enlightened soul is the person who is conscious of his ‘human condition’ in his historical and social setting, and whose awareness necessarily gives him a sense of social responsibility.”28
