Other Witherings: On Family Abolition and Defense

Social Conservative defenses of the nuclear family pose it as the default natural form of kinship and blame working-class immiseration on its decline. Cam Scott takes aim at such arguments, including those made by leftists. 

As the deepening crises of capitalism impel greater numbers of people to the left, the communist movement gains in strength. These numerical gains, however, bring about another slew of contradictions, as false friends and ideological seductions appear in a myriad of intimate guises. In imperial core countries such as the United States, a new brand of majoritarian socialism, backed by common sense, gathers around a program of drastic, but ultimately serviceable, reforms to the capitalist system. Within this recent ferment, opportunism flourishes, and right-wing talking points proliferate with the advantage of simplicity. 

A persistent example of rightism within a widening socialist spectrum would be Angela Nagle, who made her debut as a cultural critic with the 2017 publication of Kill All Normies, a remedial ethnography of the online right and its misogynist ressentiment. Perhaps the author’s sympathies were already clear from this early screed against “Tumblr-liberalism,” in which Nagle more or less describes a penchant for denunciation from a “campus left” as a self-fulfilling prophecy, goading its nemesis into existence by sheer wishful hyperbole. But it was only after Nagle published a piece in the conservative journal American Affairs entitled “The Left Case against Open Borders,” calling internationalists “the useful idiots of big business,” that she attracted the interest and agreement of pundits like Tucker Carlson, and a reputation as an “anti-woke” culture warrior. Most recently, Nagle has turned her attention to the family—more specifically, to its defense against a deviant left—for The Lamp, a journal of “consistent, undiluted Catholic orthodoxy.”

As a moral institution, the bourgeois family proves a remarkably effective figure with which to condense Nagle’s racial and sexual politics. Her polemic opens defensively, like so many conservative rallying cries, positioning the family as an institution under attack: “The call to abolish the family has recently been revived by cultural revolutionaries who are getting their way on a number of issues to which most people had never given any consideration.” Beyond the lurching grammar of this curious assertion and its uncertain timeline lurks a fantasy of persecution. Nagle warns her reader of a return; but from whence does this renewed demand originate? Without addressing the pre-history of this apparently perverse fad, Nagle proceeds to ask a follow-up question: “Why is it being revived now, when the family has already been in decline for decades?”

Here one perceives a sudden and deceptive shift, for there’s a wide difference between ‘abolition’ and ‘decline.’ Any revolutionary will profess a desire for the abolition of capitalism, at the same time as they will almost certainly understand that any interval in which capitalism finds itself in decline is sure to be a time of intense cruelty, when its most oppressive institutions reassert themselves. Historical structures, particularly those that ought to be transformed altogether, often enter into periods of decline because of their own contradictions. Decline has never sufficed for revolution in itself; more often, it names the intolerable stage of an untenable state. 

Leaving aside this sleight, the question remains: who are the cultural revolutionaries behind this revival? In a scaremongering rollcall of family abolitionists, Nagle includes “anarchists,” Black Lives Matter, one defunct magazine, and apparently, by implication, the Ford Foundation. With this roster of variously wretched and connected nemeses, Nagle panders to a moral majority, for whom—to the extent that she still claims any left politics whatsoever—she is determined to play the useful idiot. Nonetheless, only an extremely online reader could follow Nagle’s paranoid synopsis, in which she digresses upon the short-lived Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone in Seattle, characterizing organizer Raz Simone as a “warlord” with the racist panache of a Fox News telecaster, and seethingly obsesses over the work of theorist Sophie Lewis on surrogacy.1 

Nagle appears certain that the family, as a unit of social production and necessary (however often obliged, coercive) care, follows natural law, and can be extrapolated from biological descendence. The nuclear family, she asserts, is a cornerstone of “virtually every society hitherto observed in human history.” This is demonstrably false, as well-observed by many decidedly non-radical sociologists and anthropologists. But one needn’t heed any academic in particular, where innumerable cultures world-over call attention to the socially corrosive imposition of the nuclear family form on their own kinship practices and ways of belonging. Nagle is something far worse than incurious, however—she is a reactionary, and the willingness of some on the left to take her seriously warrants a materialist summary of the ground on which she intervenes.

The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State

In 1884, Friedrich Engels published The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State, a historical excavation of the development of the family in consequence of changing relations of production. While clearly dated, the work is a cornerstone of Marxist and feminist theory, in which Engels argues that the patrilinear organization of the modern family develops with the advent of private property, in order that “children of undisputed paternity (might) come into their father’s property as his natural heirs.” It is worth quoting at greater length from the text:

Monogamous marriage comes on the scene as the subjugation of the one sex by the other; it announces a struggle between the sexes unknown throughout the whole previous prehistoric period. In an old unpublished manuscript, written by Marx and myself in 1846, I find the words: “The first division of labor is that between man and woman for the propagation of children.” And today I can add: The first class opposition that appears in history coincides with the development of the antagonism between man and woman in monogamous marriage, and the first class oppression coincides with that of the female sex by the male. Monogamous marriage was a great historical step forward; nevertheless, together with slavery and private wealth, it opens the period that has lasted until today in which every step forward is also relatively a step backward, in which prosperity and development for some are won through the misery and frustration of others. It is the cellular form of civilized society, in which the nature of the oppositions and contradictions fully active in that society can be already studied.

‘The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State’ remains a blow to patriarchal ideology to this day.

In Engels’ account, it isn’t only that the nuclear family appears at a particular moment in history as a requirement of capitalist accumulation. Rather, the patriarchal distribution of property in relation to a gendered division of labor preconfigures class society. Theorist Shulamith Firestone believes that “Engels has been given too much credit for these scattered recognitions,” and that his work perceives the “sexual substratum of the historical dialectic” only insofar as it aligns with his own principally economic concerns.2 But it is precisely this alignment to which Nagle and conservative socialists must be accountable. Any serious examination of the emergence and maintenance of capitalism has to account for the development of the nuclear family, and any thought that attempts to circumvent the historicity of this development by reference to natural advantage is unsuitable to the critique of capitalism. 

Over the course of his influential work, Engels narrates the rise of institutionalized patrilineality as a means of transmitting private wealth from generation to generation; and the Marxist demand for the abolition of all rights of inheritance makes little sense without a firm historical grasp of the institutions by which unyielding, multi-generational ownership of the means of production is naturalized along patrilineal, and racial, lines. At the same time, socialist feminists such as Selma James and Silvia Federici have demonstrated the extent to which the family as a minimal unity was essential to the success of free labor, where women and children necessarily tend to a household owned by a man. This is not only a holdover from a feudal arrangement; rather, as John D’Emilio explains in his influential essay on gay identity formation, family members remain mutually dependent under the capitalist mode of production, even as the family ceases to function as a self-sufficient unit of production. As individuals struck out into the market, selling their labor power, new principles of social affiliation emerged. It is the decline of this mutual dependency that Nagle and other defenders of family values bemoan:  

Robert Putnam’s famous work, for example, documents the steady decline of social trust, community, and cooperation in the same time period during which the family has declined, with loneliness and isolation increasing by every statistical measure to a greater extent now than at any point in American history. 

One should ask, however, what else has taken place over the decades in question. Correlation does not imply causation, and as Nagle herself claims to have noticed, almost every collectivity has been threatened by massive deregulation over the last half-century, from organized labor to team bowling. This citation on its own is specious; if proletarianization erodes family values, it in no way follows that this erosion is the cause of other, related symptoms; nor does it follow that the nuclear family as a feudal vestige must be defended. Nagle disagrees:

In the Eighties, the wealth gap that opened up between the educated and less educated due to offshoring and the decline in opportunities for the working class is considered one of the primary causes of family break-ups by sociologists such as Andrew Cherlin, the author of Love’s Labour Lost: The Rise and Fall of the Working Class Family in America. While the working-class family suffered under these economic conditions, family stability increased among the educated. This disparity has in turn exacerbated the wealth gap further. The many demonstrable positive benefits of growing up with two parents are among the many evils of the past from which the working class and the less educated appear to have been liberated.

Moving swiftly past the sleight of hand by which Nagle smuggles her economic nationalism into her defense of the family, she again confuses the disaggregation of the family by economic pressure, and the pains of further isolation from this minimal unity, with an abolitionist program of affirmative affiliation. Cherlin uses an apparent “marriage gap” to index the economic gulf between classes, and before any normative interpretation, this observation—that a stable family structure strongly correlates with economic security—is easily reconcilable with much Marxist and abolitionist thinking on the family. As noted, the family is a miniature unit of production and wealth-sharing in an otherwise atomized market society. As a legal institution, the family functions as a firm, by which wealth is inherited and inequality is reproduced. Otherwise, the security afforded to working people by the family is carefully annotated within Marxist sociology and feminist thought, which describes the family as a site of occluded labor, where unpaid domestic service is expected: the waged worker doesn’t reproduce themself alone. 

Making and Breaking Kin

This reply is far too abstract, however, where Nagle’s racist innuendo is so brazen. Nagle’s assertions about the benefits of growing up in a two-parent household are either banally true, concerning the material advantages of pooling multiple incomes or having the full-time attention of an unwaged, stay-at-home caregiver—or they partake of the deep stereotypes used to ideologize American economic policy. Bluntly, Nagle’s determinism has less to do with Karl Marx than with Daniel Moynihan, whose 1965 report on Black poverty in the United States famously pathologized its subjects, venturing a dismal verdict on Black men and single mothers. As Angela Davis writes:

According to the report’s thesis, the source of oppression was deeper than the racial discrimination that produced unemployment, shoddy housing, inadequate education and substandard medical care. The root of oppression was described as a ‘tangle of pathology’ created by the absence of male authority among Black people!3 

In this document, Moynihan framed the adverse effects of poverty and discrimination as evidence of the incompatibility of Black “matriarchal” custom with European American social mores and progress. Moynihan’s description of this alternative family arrangement was in no way ennobling—rather, this comparative term functioned to naturalize the bourgeois nuclear family and its constitutive divisions of labor and to prioritize this organization as a requirement of economic advancement. 

The Moynihan report sent shockwaves through popular culture, creating the now commonplace narrative of the dysfunctional black family.

In a historically sweeping, meta-psychoanalytic reading of the Moynihan Report, theorist Hortense J. Spillers explains its fatal logic and flawed terminology. The report, she says, purports to compare the “’white’ family, by implication, and the ‘Negro Family,’ by outright assertion, in a constant opposition of binary meanings … with neither past nor future, as tribal currents moving out of time.”4 These two family forms, insofar as they are binarized and reference only each other, lack historical substantiality themselves while operating within a racist imaginary that is itself a historical product. The synchronic Oedipality of Moynihan’s account evades the history of which it is a product. This supposed cultural difference only stands for failure and exclusion where the family is both an amenity and an institution of whiteness:

It seems clear, however, that ‘Family,’ as we practice and understand it ‘in the West’—the vertical transfer of a bloodline, of a patronymic, of titles and entitlements, of real estate and the prerogatives of ‘cold cash,’ from fathers to sons and in the supposedly free exchange of affectional ties between a male and a female of his choice—becomes the mythically revered privilege of a free and freed community.5 

Any verdict as regards Black family life, Spillers suggests, is “impertinent” where enslaved people were forcibly dispersed from their own familial and social arrangements. Slavery is a system that makes kinship impossible, for if it remained so, Spillers explains, “property relations would be undermined, since the offspring would then ‘belong’ to a mother and a father.”6 Thus the Moynihan report’s improper speculation as to the obstinacy of a Black “matriarchal” culture suggests that Black women have been empowered to claim their children throughout history, on a model of inheritance that was systematically denied them.

As one can see, it isn’t simply that the nuclear family has outlived a once-upon-a-time utility, but that it has served continuously as an instrument of subjugation. Where many cultures were suppressed by European colonizers and prohibited access to the conceptual and material resources afforded by the family, others were disciplined into accepting its strictures over the course of forced assimilation. As Europe colonized North America, a patriarchal family unit proved particularly beneficial to the new economy, which in turn transformed vast territories shared by First Nations into private property. The family, as the maximum society permitted by this dispersal, doubled as a workforce; and the drive by individual households to maximize productive capacity changed the demography of North America. As Dakota scholar Kim TallBear explains:

Growing the white population through biologically reproductive heterosexual marriage—in addition to encouraging immigration from some places and not others—was crucial to settler-colonial nation-building … At the same time that the biologically reproductive monogamous white marriage and family were solidified as ideal and central to both US and Canadian nation building, Indigenous peoples who found themselves inside these two countries were being viciously restrained both conceptually and physically inside colonial borders and institutions that included residential schools, churches and missions all designed to “save the man and kill the Indian.”7 

For all of her concern about child welfare and the breaking up of homes, Nagle remains ignorant of how the mandate of the nuclear family has been used to destroy other systems of multi-generational care. The seizure of Indigenous children by the state has been a permanent feature of colonization, from residential schooling to Sixties Scoop the massive abduction of Indigenous children from their communities throughout the 1960s, and their adoption into middle-class settler families across North America. In Canada today, there are more Indigenous children in the custody of Child and Family Services than were placed in residential schools; which have been named an officially genocidal institution. These apprehensions have been similarly denounced by human rights advocates, and often proceed on the basis of discrimination against young, “single” parents or the greater role of older community members in care. On this point, TallBear quotes Cree-Métis feminist Kim Anderson: “Our traditional societies had been sustained by strong kin relations in which women had significant authority. There was no such thing as a single mother because Native women and their children lived and worked in extended kin networks.”8

Throughout her work, Marxist anthropologist Eleanor Leacock makes a forceful case for the historical subversion of the labor of women, and the consequent transformation of social relations, in the development of capitalism. Based on her time with the Innu people, and less fanciful accounts of Indigenous North American life and customs than Engels’ third-hand characterization of the Haudenosaunee, Leacock observes the even dispersal of rights and responsibilities among men and women, in a collective arrangement that considerably surpasses the narrowness of the nuclear family. In these societies, Leacock explains, “women retained control over the products of their labor. These were not alienated, and women’s production of clothing, shelter, and canoe covering gave them concomitant practical power and influence.”9 

Having observed the economic equality of genders as independent parties to exchange in non-European societies, Leacock argues adamantly for a Marxist theory to account for the subordination of women in the emergence of the family, as a crucial prerequisite to the capitalist transformation of work into abstract labour and cooperative production into private property relations. For want of such an account, anthropologists and laypersons alike will repeat “the widespread normative ideal of men as household heads who provision dependent women and children reflects some human need or drive … (and) the unique and valued culture history and tradition of each Third World people will continue to be distorted, twisted to fit the interests of capitalist exploitation.”10

In arguing for a trans-historical family integrity, Nagle and her fellow moral crusaders implicitly condone a trans-historical—that is to say, natural—dependency of women upon men. This imputed dependency serves in turn as a firm foundation for a rigid conception of sex and gender, extrapolated from a division of labour and its concomitant system of property. Little wonder, then, that Nagle’s declensionist account of the American family fixates upon the project of queer liberation as a scene of turpitude. But even she may be surprised at certain reevaluations of the family from the moral right.  

The Brooks Debate

In an improbable piece for The Atlantic, conservative commentator David Brooks narrates the rise and fall of the American family with considerably less dread than one might expect. Brooks notes the social supports offered by the “corporate” family structure of the nineteenth-century, where multiple households supported a family business; and the subsequent decline of multi-generational habitation with the rise of an urban proletariat throughout the twentieth-century. Citing a middle-class cult of “togetherness,” Brooks correctly regards the nuclear family as an idealization, or an abstraction from a statistical average. The 1950s, Brooks declares, “was a freakish historical moment when all of society conspired, wittingly and not, to obscure the essential fragility of the nuclear family.” 

Brooks, who for our purposes appears a better vulgar Marxist than Nagle, periodizes the decline of the nuclear family; marking a fall in real wages through the 1970s and a correspondent uptake in competitive individualism, alongside real gains in mobility for women by the feminist movement. (In this observation, he’s a better dialectician than Nagle, too.) Today, Brooks says, American marriage and birth rates continue to fall and the nuclear family seems on its way out. But this is only half the story. America, Brooks continues, “now has two entirely different family regimes.” Here Brooks winds up veering eerily close to the prognosis of The Communist Manifesto, where Marx and Engels declare that the bourgeois family, based on private gain, exists only for the bourgeoisie, while immiserating conditions have already abolished the family among proletarians. Now Brooks: 

Among the highly educated, family patterns are almost as stable as they were in the 1950s; among the less fortunate, family life is often utter chaos. There’s a reason for that divide: Affluent people have the resources to effectively buy extended family, in order to shore themselves up. Think of all the child-rearing labor affluent parents now buy that used to be done by extended kin: babysitting, professional child care, tutoring, coaching, therapy, expensive after-school programs. 

Brooks, like Nagle, cites Cherlin’s “marriage gap,” arguing that marriage is not only an amenity but an instrument of wealth. For moralists like Brooks, however, economic fortunes are an index of social behavior, and a secondary cause at best; and he’s quick to seek out sociological determinations of economic disparity, reading rates of divorce and remarriage as harbingers of poverty and very nearly parroting the Moynihan report’s foreclosure of Black sociality. The practical difference is in policy, where Brooks proposes a deemphasis of family life in favor of extended and experimental kinship structures. 

“The good news is that human beings adapt, even if politics are slow to do so. When one family form stops working, people cast about for something new—sometimes finding it in something very old,” writes Brooks. Were the source concealed, one might almost agree. Surely politics trails actual developments within the lives of people, and the ways in which those lives are organized is nothing if not changeable. As Leacock explains, human beings only demonstrate a “potential for social living which cultural traditions then supply with specific goals. The notions of private property, or the monogamous family, are culturally learned goals.”11 

In a series of anthropological overtures, looking to pre-capitalist and communal cultures throughout history and across the globe, Brooks strives to remind his reader that “throughout most of human history, kinship was something you could create.” This is doubtlessly true; though the recommendation is scarcely credible in Brooks’ voice, as a frontier mentality underwrites his canvassing of human custom writ large. Moreover, his account of the American family, however economistic, fails to apprehend the relations of production that subtend his broader thesis. Nothing about Brooks’ perspective is exemplary, except for its part in a broad consensus that the family isn’t working as one might expect. 

Six different types of kinship according to 19th-century anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan.

The Lawful Structure of Love

In a response to Brooks, as part of an online symposium about his essay hosted by the Institute for Family Studies, Cherlin accuses sentimentality: large extended families form a nostalgic backdrop to a bygone way of life, he says, but rarely figured in the everyday; and those who have “innovated” their families outside of the white mainstream rarely did so by choice, and struggle in the present to repair conventional family bonds. All told, Cherlin opines on the side of natural law:

But one must recognize that forged families have some limitations. These kinship ties are easier to break because they are voluntary; neither strong norms nor laws stand in the way of ending them. They also take continual work to maintain: Although your sister is always your sister and your spouse is always your spouse, your close friend is part of your forged family only as long as you and she actively support each other.  

This is a popular, and for many definitive, defense of the family bond, which takes on an ethical character insofar as it is both immutable and received. And yet, in setting forth their materialist determination of the family, Marx and Engels faced down an incredibly sophisticated version of this prejudice, in an account that forms a basis for many liberal defenses of the family today. 

In his 1820 work, Outlines of the Philosophy of Right, G.W.F. Hegel characterized the loving family as the “immediate substantiality of mind”—a paradigm of individuality in essential unity with an external group.12 But even Hegel’s portrayal of the family as a social metabolism requires a moment of departure from this cozy interdependence, where the individual’s life within this group attains its meaning only when the group begins to dissolve. At this point, the family member in question sets out into the world; not as an act of secession but succession, to marry and recommence the cycle by which the family is “completed”—or, why not, abolished.

The act of marriage, Hegel continues, is a willed arrangement by which family capital is exchanged: “The family, as person, has its real external existence in property; and it is only when this property takes the form of capital that it becomes the embodiment of the substantial personality of the family.”13 In this description, free exchange motivates exogenous marriage rite, which market relation Hegel imbues with spiritual necessity, defining marriage as an ethical exemplum—a necessarily loving and conscious unity between consenting individuals. This subjective accord finds its objective unity in a child, to which both parties are absolutely obliged. One could always choose to end a marriage; but this new, dependant relation is non-elective, and thus forms a natural basis for social responsibility and property alike, as the objectification of the family’s intersubjective will.

Children are not property themselves, Hegel continues, but must be raised at expense of the family’s common capital until they reach self-subsistence and are capable of holding property of their own; in which case the dissolution of the family is nearly complete, pending inheritance on the death of the father. Regarding this transaction, Hegel is clear: “the essence of inheritance is the transfer to private ownership of property which is in principle common.”14 Hegel notes that certain earlier ideas of inheritance favored appropriation by proximity, insofar as death transforms private property into wealth without an owner, and the family was simply nearest to the deceased. This, however, “disregards the nature of family relationship,” which necessitates the transmission of property from generation to generation as a principle of ethical life.

In spite of his idealism, Hegel grasps the essential relationship between the family and private property, and the difficulty of accounting for family bonds outside of the latter logic. Here we can perform a simple Marxist manoeuvre and turn Hegel on his big head; for a re-historicization of bourgeois right—which extrapolates private property relations from personal embodiment and filiation—suggests that the custodial family models itself on private property relations, much as the productive family is a staple institution of an earlier feudalism. Moreover, the ethico-legal function of marriage in Hegel’s system models the calling of the authorizing state—to assuage an antagonism immanent to society itself. 

Certainly, Marx and Engels oppose this metaphysical scheme in their demand for the abolition of the right to inheritance; otherwise, the redistribution in advance of lineal wealth allocation. But can the normative social function of Hegel’s family extend beyond the bourgeois property relations that it otherwise models? What, if anything, of this order might remain after the abolition of bourgeois right and property?

The Logical Structure of Love

In their work, Hegel and the Logical Structure of Love, philosophers Toula Nicolacopoulos and George Vassilacopoulos attempt to rewrite the account of familial love offered in the Philosophy of Right, in a manner that proves generative for a communist program of generalized care. As many rebuttals construe the family along similar lines to Hegel, as a timeless unit of ethical life, this work imagines other forms of objective solicitude, irrespective of sex, station, or relation. 

Hegel’s description of familial love is based on an ideal unity, which may or may not be present in other intersubjective relationships. Altruism and solidarity, for example, needn’t recognize the particular individuality of the other; friendship proceeds without a public witness. If recognition is a crucial litmus, Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos argue, then the dynamic individuality that Hegel prizes is even absent from single-parenting, where the love of a parent for a child is initially asymmetrical; the child doesn’t recognize its self-unity in the parent as yet, and must move from undifferentiated identity with the parent to an atomic individuality before doing so.15 This insight is less disturbing than it sounds at first; for it only rejects the prospect of an unmediated ethical relationship. As noted above, the “single parent” exists only with reference to a double standard—nobody parents alone.

But what of marriage, the lawful relationship that culminates in the family? It’s true that the conceptual sacrament of marriage in Hegel is heterosexual, monogamous, dyadic; but its ethical necessity consists in loving and mutual consent. In Origins of the Family, Engels submits this implausible ideal to historical scrutiny, staging a dialectic of recognition; for where bourgeois property relations obtain, “the marriage is conditioned by the class position of the parties and is to that extent always a marriage of convenience,” if not outright captivity. Elaborating on a theme from the Manifesto—that in many respects, the family has already been abolished for the proletariat—Engels ventures that real mutual love can only exist amid the formal equality of the oppressed:

Sex-love in the relationship with a woman becomes, and can only become, the real rule among the oppressed classes, which means today among the proletariat—whether this relation is officially sanctioned or not. But here all the foundations of typical monogamy are cleared away. Here there is no property, for the preservation and inheritance of which monogamy and male supremacy were established; hence there is no incentive to make this male supremacy effective … The proletarian family is therefore no longer monogamous in the strict sense, even where there is passionate love and firmest loyalty on both sides, and maybe all the blessings of religious and civil authority.

Engels offers a historically specific definition of monogamy, as descended from property relations, that precludes the requirement of free consent. In this way, the disintegration of the family as a unit of production actually conditions love; though of course there are many other power differentials between people in a concrete situation, and in a patriarchal society marriage remains a point of access to a family wage. But Engels’ amoral claim by no means construes proletarianization as emancipatory in itself. One century later, John D’Emilio would ambivalently observe the correlation between “free labor” and free sexual association in a landmark essay on capitalism and gay identity, in an analysis that patiently attends to the domestic constraints placed upon women in the same conjuncture. These key materialist texts illuminate the difficulty of describing the family in terms of affective ties, and the impossibility of extrapolating affection from its legal sanction.

Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos understand the necessity of monogamy for Hegel, as “immediate exclusive individuality,” to denote the singularity of the beloved, where “exclusivity” denotes the relationship between a beloved’s attributes and their rare person, rather than a pact pertaining to exclusive use.16 This ingenious reading opens away from legalistic monogamy, affording ethical status to all manner of potentially concurrent relationships, but fails by the standard of property, where the institution of marriage presides over the distribution of economic benefit. But where the matter of family capital is concerned, Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos point out that Hegel defines family property as property that the family holds in common, that cannot be used by any family member in the capacity of the atomic individual. Truthfully, Nagle’s defense of the family as predictive of economic security, following Cherlin, is little more than a defense of this common property, to which empirical banality one must ultimately assent; it is better to have some wealth than none. But to expand the remit of the family beyond present recognition would surely change the meaning of collective wealth as well, including any protocol against the alienation of family property.

Most importantly, “although Hegel repeatedly invokes the biological family …  he does not conflate this with the source of the ethical bond between parents and their children,” Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos and explain. Rather, “the ethically significant relationship between parents and children concerns the ‘second or spiritual birth of the children,’” namely their upbringing.17 Parenting for Hegel is ethically imbued because it has the negative aim of raising children out of instinct into the freedom of personality, beyond which Hegel offers no instructions or prescriptions as to the cultural situation or particulars of parenting. Thus the Hegelian approach of Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos “can recognise people sharing responsibility for raising children with a wider circle of intimate others. What matters for the ethical significance of parenting is whether or not those raising the children are related to each other and/or to the children through their mutual loving feeling.”18

Against heteronormativity—and an inconsequential homonormativity sourced from the reifications of queer theory, which seeks a universal figure of desire in historically proscribed behaviors—Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos recommend a social fabric of “multiple loving forms.” Where Cherlin’s churlishness is concerned, it suffices to say that his thinking is entirely constrained by a society based on generalized self-interest and competition. One needn’t believe in an alternative, nor in the possibility of change; but then one needn’t be a Marxist, either.

Old Habits 

In 1920, Soviet feminist Alexandra Kollontai wrote extensively on the family for the journal Komunistka, or ‘The Woman Communist.’ Kollontai stages the question directly:

Will the family continue to exist under communism? Will the family remain in the same form? These questions are troubling many women of the working class and worrying their menfolk as well. Life is changing before our very eyes; old habits and customs are dying out, and the whole life of the proletarian family is developing in a way that is new and unfamiliar and, in the eyes of some, “bizarre”.19

Noting the oppression of women within the traditional family, who are obliged to domestic labor and increasingly subject to the necessity of waged work outside the household, Kollontai observes that the family as a unit of production is disaggregated by capitalist expansion: “The circumstances that held the family together no longer exist. The family is ceasing to be necessary either to its members or to the nation as a whole.20 Kollontai doesn’t simplistically bemoan this decline or superfluity, in which the family appears as an archaic form of organizing and disciplining labor, but presses further in observation of the historical character of this organization. The family is principally charged with education, in the Russian case; rather than expand this function, Kollontai wonders if it can’t be relieved of this task as well, envisioning the end of housework and domestic hierarchy.

As the individual household ceases to be productive, greater demands are to be made of the state; and Kollontai describes this movement in the precise terms of socialist transition. “Just as housework withers away, so the obligations of parents to their children wither away gradually until finally society assumes the full responsibility.”21 Kollontai’s subsequent proposals for dividing childcare in the service of “solidarity, comradeship, mutual help and loyalty to the collective,” and to overcome the strictures of “the old family, narrow and petty, where the parents quarrel and are only interested in their own offspring,” would surely scandalize readers of The Lamp every bit as much as Nagle’s lurid paraphrase of more recent, ultraleft opinion against the family.22 

Yet Kollontai deals with the two facets or temporalities of family transformation that Nagle conflates—abolition and decline—as part of a movement: “There is no escaping the fact: the old type of family has had its day. The family is withering away not because it is being forcibly destroyed by the state, but because the family is ceasing to be a necessity.”23 To this way of thinking, the family is not destroyed by voluntarist deviancy, but in the same way that any culture opens itself to change in an orthodox Marxist description—insofar as its private remit enters into a contradiction with increasingly socialized production. Kollontai consoles the caring parent:

Working mothers have no need to be alarmed; communists are not intending to take children away from their parents or to tear the baby from the breast of its mother, and neither are they planning to take violent measures to destroy the family. No such thing! The aims of communist society are quite different. Communist society sees that the old type of family is breaking up, and that all the old pillars which supported the family as a social unit are being removed: the domestic economy is dying, and working-class parents are unable to take care of their children or provide them with sustenance and education. Parents and children suffer equally from this situation.24

In a recent summary of Marxist thinking on the family, Alyson Escalante reminds the reader that Kollontai, like Marx, “points to capitalism’s own destruction of the family among the workers” as proletarianization proceeds apace. Moreover, Escalante notes, Kollontai writes to counsel the necessity of change, not a program of abolition per se, where capitalism has already weakened, and perhaps destroyed, the productive substrate of the family. Because of this insight, Kollontai’s hundred-year-old words can help one to imagine an objective and affective future for innumerably many loving, fighting forms. As Escalante writes: 

In the face of the capitalist destruction of the role of the family, (Kollontai) simultaneously argues that attempts to hold on to the old family are both doomed and also naturalize women’s subordination, while simultaneously insisting that a new type of family is possible. She does not tell concerned workers that they must suck it up, that their fears are reactionary and that they must embrace a world without the family. Rather, she preserves the language of the family but reinterprets it into a collectivist, that is to say, a communist, version of the family. The old family is dead, capitalism has killed it, and so we have been invited to build and define a new family.

 

Family Borders

This is a powerful reply, if not to Nagle and to Brooks themselves, then to the conditions that they differently, and partially, address. While Brooks’ thought experiment attempts to recompose the American social fabric after the fashion of a corporation, he fares considerably better than Nagle in observing the necessity of change. Faced with the specter of collectivism, Nagle taunts: “but where will the village, this hypothetical replacement network of solidarity that will recreate and even improve upon the intense loyalty and selfless caregiving of parents and their children in the family unit come from?” One might suggest that this network will necessarily come from those parents and children whose fortunes require a total transformation of society, but that would be only too logical. As Nagle refuses to see communal supersession as a solution to, rather than a cause of, the objective decline of the bourgeois family, she misapprehends the bearing of its discontents. The support network that Nagle disparages is already immanent to the crisis of the family—which is only ever a crisis of capitalism, shored at home—and her language of “replacement” alludes to a different set of anxieties altogether. 

Nagle’s unsuitable nostalgia for a recent period of social cohesion, shored in the miniature family as a bulwark against social chaos, is perhaps too typical of the American left, though her conservatism is near-total:

Nobody would have believed just a few months ago that, say, abolishing the police would become a tenet of mainstream American liberalism. Even rightwing politicians have been cowed more or less overnight into publicly agreeing with things beyond the wildest dreams of the most radical anarchist of just a few years ago. If the abolition of the family is the next demand of our successful cultural revolutionaries, it is easy to imagine how the legal infrastructure undergirding could be dismantled; its moral and cultural foundations are already vulnerable old structures just waiting to be tipped over. Who exactly is going to stop them?

Who, “exactly,” does this call intend to summon to the family’s defense? Nagle’s culture war proceeds on many fronts, and it’s certainly handy that she can’t turn in a 1500-word screed on the family without calling the police. But an inventory of her various journalistic stunts paints a fairly clear picture of her ideology. The cause of the American family has facilitated racial and sexual panic for more than a century, and unspecified concern for the health of “the family” as a reproductive project has long been a polite expression of anxiety over racial purity and demographics. 

In The Left Case against Open Borders, an execrable piece from 2018, Nagle punches left again. Here Nagle argues that “open borders radicalism ultimately benefits the elites within the most powerful countries in the world, further disempowers organized labor, robs the developing world of desperately needed professionals, and turns workers against workers.” Almost clause for clause, this sentence does the work that it attributes to irrational radicals, pitting workers against one another to the benefit of the ruling class. At any border, the contradiction between capital and labor means a relative porosity for capital flows and increased brutality and scrutiny for migrants; and an international division of labor is responsible for the domestic fortunes of a country’s working class in any case.25 “But the Left need not take my word for it,” Nagle gloats. “Just ask Karl Marx, whose position on immigration would get him banished from the modern Left.”

Nagle gives ideological ammunition to the anti-immigration right on Tucker Carlson.

Nagle’s staggeringly incorrect reading of Marx quotes from a letter regarding the division of English proletarians and Irish proletarians: “The ordinary English worker hates the Irish worker as a competitor who lowers his standard of life. In relation to the Irish worker he regards himself as a member of the ruling nation and consequently he becomes a tool of the English aristocrats and capitalists against Ireland, thus strengthening their domination over himself,” she recites. It’s difficult to enumerate the errors in thinking here. Where Marx sees a process of ethnic scapegoating, obscuring the true contradiction of labor and capital, Nagle chooses to see a contradiction between national interests, and her own racism is clear from her abuse of this citation. In the letter quoted above, Marx goes on to compare this divisive scenario to the enmity of “poor whites” for former slaves in the United States, anticipating W.E.B. Dubois’ description of whiteness as a “psychological wage,” preventing white workers from practicing solidarity by conferring public and legal benefits beyond simple remuneration. 

It’s worth noting that there’s almost no chance that Nagle was familiar with Marx’s argumentation on this matter before seeking recourse to his authority. Rather than cite Marx’s 1870 correspondence with Sigfrid Meyer and August Vogt, in which this passage appears, Nagle’s bibliography points to an article by David L. Wilson, in which he quotes from Marx’s letter in order to make a very different argument. Wilson notes Marx’s assertion that Irish immigration precipitated a reduction in English workers’ wages—before theorizing the ideological utility of this national division for the ruling class, one might add—but is careful to note how racism and xenophobia create the climate in which migrant laborers face lower pay and worse conditions of work, putatively forcing wages down. The problem, Wilson concludes, is exploitation, not immigration. 

Nagle’s national chauvinism is intimately related to her defense of the family; for closed borders and private families are two means of attempting to ensure the homogeneity and mores of a population. In Kill All Normies, Nagle portrays the online “alt-right” as a negation of the family-values conservatism evolved by pundits such as Pat Buchanan in the 1990s, which characterization both exaggerates the novelty of this phenomenon and paves the way for a rehabilitation of family values from the left. But as Sophie Bjork-James shows in her research into white nationalist web forums, the family is a central occupation, even a primary concern, of today’s online and alternative right:

Over the past few decades, changes in economic conditions and gender norms have created a proliferation of new family forms, further destabilizing the nuclear family—changes that eectively reduce the space of patriarchal power and disrupt the perceived division between personal and economic life … These conservative and racist activists fight to restore a model of the family, race, nation, and economy that has lost its hegemonic status.26

Bjork-James ventures a determination that eludes Nagle, where the family functions for its staunchest defenders as a fantastic unity beyond the economy and state, despite its historical existence as an expression of both. Ironically, it’s because of Nagle’s crude “class reductionism” that her economic analysis bottoms out at the usual racist canards—“cheap illegal labour,” “single parents,” and so on. Nagle attributes declining economic fortunes to the same scapegoats as the right—once an ethnographic quarry, now her preferred company. 

Fordism and the Family Wage

For all of her dalliances with the right, it’s crucial to note that Nagle’s merely reflexive arguments have far more rigorous, if rigorously reactionary, precedent on the chauvinist left. One could look to sociologist Wolfgang Streeck, for example, whose grim assessment of the postwar welfare state was influential in the 2018 formation of Aufstehen, a German political coalition of “the materialist left, not the moral left.” Like Nagle, Streeck has a record of xenophobic invective, accusing refugee and asylum policy of serving elite interests by importing a foreign labor reserve.27 Streeck takes a special interest in the family, too—annotating its transformation after the decline of American industrial occupation in the postwar era, and the relative safety net extending from the factory to the father to his dependents. According to Streeck:

The social and family structure that the standard employment relationship had once underwritten has itself dissolved in a process of truly revolutionary change. In fact, it appears that the Fordist family was replaced by a flexible family in much the same way as Fordist employment was replaced by flexible employment, during the same period and also all across the Western world.28

Such an account offers the periodizing detail that Nagle omits. But Streeck also laments the disappearance of jobs from core capitalist countries at the same time as he divides the working class by national origin; thus his account of family “decline” is both tellingly chauvinistic, and elucidating in overlay. According to Streeck, “intensified commodification of labor, in particular the increased labor market participation of women, and the de-institutionalization of family relations,” are key factors in the decline of fertility in advanced industrial countries and not others.29 Political scientist Melinda Cooper calls attention to the apparent sexism of this description: 

It was feminism, after all, that first challenged the legal and institutional forms of the Fordist family by encouraging women to seek an independent wage on a par with men and transforming marriage from a long-term, noncontractual obligation into a contract that could be dissolved at will. In so doing, feminists (whom he imagines as middle class) robbed women (whom he imagines as working class) of the economic security that came from marriage to a Fordist worker. By undermining the idea that men should be paid wages high enough to care for a wife and children, feminism helped managers to generalize the norm of precarious employment and workplace flexibility, eventually compromising the security of all workers.30

One ought to note the parallels between Streeck’s account of the flexibilized family and his characterization of the welfare state destabilized by rapid demographic change, in which he describes European immigration policy as an executive adjustment to wages and employment opportunities for domestic workers, enacted after the progressive desires of “liberal-cosmopolitans.” In broad strokes, Streeck’s sketch of the post-Fordist dissolution of the family implies an infiltration of the national economy from within—a domestication of the national economy transpiring in tandem with the global operators of deindustrialization. As with his disparaging remarks about the role of multiculturalism in economic deregulation, Streeck’s paranoia leads him to non-dynamically assert the leading role of culture in the family’s transformation: 

Cultural change—the spread of non-standard forms of social life—may have paved the way for economic and institutional change, in particular the rise of non-standard forms of employment, with the deregulation of society as a forerunner to the deregulation of the economy … Clearly, the decisive development in this context was the mass entry of women into paid employment, which eventually came to be celebrated across the political spectrum as a long-overdue liberation from servitude in the feudal village of the patriarchal family. Especially for the liberal wing of the rapidly growing feminist movement, the associated increase in economic uncertainty and social instability appeared to be a price worth paying for what was seen as secular social progress.31

Streeck glancingly counters his own hypothesis with a more substantive claim—that a decline in real wages might have forced more members of a given household into the workforce in order to support their middle-class standard of living, for one—but doesn’t really attempt to mediate these two perspectives. As one should understand, social movements do not emerge under conditions of the participants’ choosing; and the abatement of the family organization isn’t a revenge fantasy of its feminized discontents. By Streeck’s account, incorrigible women en masse appear too covetous of precarity to recognize that they are about to destroy the patriarchal family wage, of which they are the foremost beneficiaries. 

In the post-Fordist Genesis of Streeck’s simplifications, it seems inconceivable that women could make political demands upon capital, for liberation from the household, or for a subsequent social wage. Notably then, even though his own politics offer no greater destination than the recent past, Streeck already sees this post-Fordist deregulation of the family culminating in a paradoxical redistribution of responsibility. Streeck observes a trend toward the socialization of reproduction in a number of countries, including free childcare and wages for stay-at-home caregivers—and compares this to a shameful situation in the United States, where single parents have fewer real supports than any core capitalist country. 

New Poor Law

When Nagle cites the outcomes of single parenting in North America without any reference to the paucity of available resources, she imputes the violence of the state to proletarian parents, exaggerating and denying their agency all at once. This is a fairly standard manoeuvre, that construes systemic obstacles as failings of personal morality. In its perfected form, this ideology makes moral demonstration into a condition of social support; which is, in broad strokes, exactly how the American welfare system was rearticulated during periods of neoliberal restructuring. Thus, as Melinda Cooper explains, broad neoliberal reforms in the period following the collapse of the Fordist paradigm sought to resuscitate a kind of poor law, emphasizing marital responsibility and familial relation as crucial institutions of economic security, apart from the welfare state. 

This powerful ideology justifies the low participation of the United States government in social assistance programs, as observed by Streeck. But for all of his cultural fixations, Streeck’s empirical comparison between American and European data sets omits crucial mediations of data. The crisis of the 1970s was a crisis of the racial state, writes theorist M. Jacqui Alexander, in which “poverty had to be colored black”; and the reconstructed welfare system that emerged from this decade further entrenched this expectation. This era’s debates fixated on the issue of single parents, “as a way to animate state policy and mobilize a manufactured popular memory that made (black) poverty the causal derivative of welfare.”32

Cooper observes the special scrutiny reserved for federal assistance programs like Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC), which was accused by the conservative left and the right alike of “undermining the American family and contributing to the problem of inflation.”33 This program comprised an important arm of the new poor law, establishing a state chaperone of ruthless prurience—“man-in-the-house” rules, for example, permitted random home inspection to determine whether or not a program participant was in a sexual relationship with a man. If they were, Cooper explains, benefits were revoked, as the male houseguest was deemed “a proper substitute for the paternal function of the state.”34 In this respect, the new liberal welfare regime and its flagship programs functioned as the precise obverse of the Fordist family wage system—presuming male attendance to betoken financial stability. In this lawful arrangement, Alexander says, the state assumes the position of “white fathers to blackness,” recalling the “memory of secret yet licit white paternity under slavery and its possible vengeful reemergence at a different historical moment.”35

As both Cooper and Alexander discuss, the AFDC program proved especially controversial for its perceived benefit to single Black mothers at public expense, even though it was relatively inexpensive among social security programs and the majority of recipients were white. Where the paternal function of the state is concerned, Alexander diagnoses a conservative moralism according to which “it was an irresponsibly absent black masculinity that made the potential conjugal couple incomplete and shifted the fiduciary obligations of the private patriarch onto the public patriarch, thereby forcing an uncomfortable and unwanted paternity onto the white public patriarch.”36 With this dynamic in mind, conservative attacks on single parents appear less a matter of superior morality than an ironic disputation of responsibility, historical and present.

Democrats and Republicans alike accused the AFDC program of fostering dependence on state support, even though benefits had declined precipitously since 1970; and AFDC was replaced with the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Act (PRWORA) by President Bill Clinton in 1996. PRWORA replaced AFDC with a highly conditional program called Temporary Assistance to Needy Families (TANF), offering benefits at approximately one-third of the poverty level; and proliferating conditions that were found to contravene human rights, even permitting states to withhold benefits from mothers who can’t identify the biological father of their children. In this respect, Cooper suggests, PRWORA is both precedent-setting and paradoxical—using the conservative sacrament of the heterosexual family to pursue a radical neoliberal agenda of atomized personal responsibility. 

The “ideological blackening of welfare,” Alexander says, also adversely affects other racialized groups. She calls attention to the “ideological proximity between PRWORA (and) the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act also of 1996,” which work at once to “make welfare, labor, and immigration deeply intertwined.” Here Alexander follows the work of Payal Banerjee: 

Banerjee argues that the state derived support for PRWORA from the widely held belief that “illegal” and “legal” immigrants relied on state public support and that prohibiting immigrants from receiving public assistance would act as a powerful deterrence to immigration. As a result, both “legal” immigrants (noncitizens) and “illegal” immigrants became ineligible for certain provisions under PRWORA.37

Weighing the Anchor

This complicated saga of targeted racism, massive deregulation, and misogynist stricture forms the basis for Nagle’s assertions as to the non-viability of single-parent homes and the apparently poor outcomes of non-patriarchal care. These are the family values that Nagle defends—a mercenary hodge-podge of spiritualized economic precepts, essentialized market relations, phobic prohibitions, and paranoia. It goes without saying that families of all kinds are places of intense care and devotion, among many other things; but that guise is ultimately incidental to Nagle’s rallying cry, where she knows very well that it is not being criticized by Marxist feminists for any of those occasional features. As noted above, the ethical dimension of family life is itself contingent, consisting of a collective life that can even help to envision its historical transformation. 

The family is not only a historical phenomenon, subject to alteration; but as Bjork-James notes, can also serve as “an anchor of stability in a time of increasing economic and social change.”38 At its most constructive, Nagle’s argument tends to nostalgia for mid-century conditions of capital accumulation, in which sweeping and systemic exclusion procured limited security for a politically enfranchised section of the working class and their preordained dependents. This is a Trojan horse for racism and xenophobia—MAGA with medicare, to be blunt.

Where the family is an obvious synecdoche of nation, Nagle’s convenient narrative of its decline dovetails with her isolationism. This is a unified position, and a fascist one; such talking points have always traveled by way of a superficial socialist concern, and aren’t difficult to spot in their enthusiasms and vendettas. One might even ask whether Nagle herself is worth the trouble. But arguments like hers prove oddly persuasive in certain socialist circles. The Class Unity subgrouping of the DSA, who profess a materialist Marxist politics, enthusiastically promoted Nagle’s article on social media, for example; and her prejudices mirror those of a “traditional left,” characterized by Donald Parkinson as “socially conservative, economically leftist.” As the meaningless abstraction of “populism” tempts a back and forth traffic between these conventional poles, it is more vital than ever to insist upon the Marxist legacy of abolition; “to find the new world through criticism of the old one,” one might say. For communists don’t rally to the recent, nor the distant, past. Our real descendancy is in a better future—one in which family chauvinism, white supremacy, and class privilege are given to history in their entirety.

Fragment on War, National Questions and Revolution by Rosa Luxemburg

Translation and introduction by Rida Vaquas. Original article can be found here

Rosa Luxemburg died on January 15th, 1919.

Introduction 

It has long become a truism that Marxism failed to grasp the problem of nationalism, particularly as the second half of the twentieth century saw national revolutions flourish whilst socialist movements collapsed. As national identity cements itself as a political force in our times, the Communist Manifesto’s declaration that “national one-sidedness and narrowmindedness become more and more impossible” can strike some as impossibly glib. The globalization of capital, far from diminishing the prospects of the nation-state, has instead spawned many nationalisms and even shaken the stability of ‘settled’ nation-states. Both Britain and Spain have faced secessionist movements in recent years. In the wake of this theoretical “failure” of Marxism, the response of Marxists has too frequently been to pack up and go home, taking the failure for granted. Nowadays the claim of “the right of nations to self-determination” is the accepted solution to the national question, even when no plausible working out has been shown. The “Leninist position” has become reified as part of socialist political programmes in the 21st century, even as very little sets it apart from the principle of national self-determination advocated by the Democratic President Woodrow Wilson.

After over half of a century of socialists firmly embracing nation-states, perhaps it is time to re-evaluate this “failure”. As opposed to understanding the principle of national self-determination as necessary to fill a hole in Marxist theory, we should understand it as blasting the hole itself and calling for the bourgeoisie to fill it. It is time to shed a light on the debates that took place within socialism before the principle of national self-determination became widely accepted as a necessary part of socialist programmes, in the period of the Second Socialist International between 1890 and 1914. This means an analysis of the national question from peripheral socialist parties rather than the centers in Germany and Russia. To seriously appraise the defeated alternatives to national self-determination allows us to appreciate that the nation-state is not the final word in history.

Much of the historiographical understanding of the national question debate in this period frames it as a dispute between two of the leading personalities: Rosa Luxemburg and Vladimir Ilyich Lenin. Rosa Luxemburg, as co-founder of the Social Democratic Party of Poland and the Kingdom of Lithuania (henceforth SDKPiL), positioned her party against the social patriotism of the rival Polish Socialist Party (henceforth PPS) who demanded the restoration of Poland, which was then partitioned under Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Russia. She fought against the Polish claim to independence at the London Congress of the Second International in 1896 and consistently argued for the Polish socialists in Prussia to be integrated into the German Social Democratic Party (henceforth SPD), rather than being a separate party. On the other hand, Vladimir Lenin, writing from the heart of the Tsarist empire, understood the right of nations to self-determination as a “special urgency” in a land where “subject peoples” were on the peripheries of Great Russia and experienced higher amounts of national oppression than they did in Europe.1

Rosa Luxemburg’s position has been recently evaluated as effectively forming a bloc with the chauvinist bureaucracy of the SPD.2 Luxemburg has further been accused of underestimating the force of national oppression and hence of “international proletariat fundamentalism”.3 By examining the debate as it took place in the Second International as a whole, we can understand these assessments of the case against national self-determination to be unsatisfactory and re-appraise the positive legacy of revolutionary internationalism.

Meanwhile, Lenin’s position has received praise in the wake of socialists relating to the national liberation movements of the 20th century, as “championing the rights of oppressed nations”.4 In this framework, the “liberation” of oppressed nations is the precondition of international working class unity and therefore national struggle clears the way for class struggle.

However, it is important to interrogate the consistency of Lenin’s position and hence dismantle the idea of a coherent Leninist position which emerges from its conclusions. The right of nations to self-determination, as Lenin took care to emphasize, could not be equated with support for secessionist movements. In 1903, as the Russian Social Democratic Party adopted the national self-determination as part of its programme, Lenin argued that “it is only in isolated and exceptional cases that we can advance and actively support demands conducive to the establishment of a new class state” against the calls of the PPS for the restoration of Poland.5 This lack of sympathy to struggles for national independence in practice was noted by contemporary socialist supporters of nationalism, the Ukrainian socialist Yurkevych polemicized that Lenin supported the right of national self-determination “for appearances’ sake” whilst in actuality being a “fervent defender of her [Russia’s] unity”.6 If the exercise of the right of national self-determination naturally leads to the formation of an independent state, Lenin was politically opposed to it in many of the same cases as Luxemburg. This distinction may be lost upon later “Leninists”, such as the Scottish Socialist Party who assume Scottish independence to be an extension of national self-determination, but it should not be obscured from our view.

Moreover, Lenin’s position changed through the course of his political experiences. The early Soviet government’s policy on nationalities required that “we must maintain and strengthen the union of socialist republics”.7 Instead of promoting secession, the Bolsheviks pursued a policy of Korenizatsiya (nativization) in which national minorities were promoted in their local bureaucracies and administrative institutions spoke the minority language. Hence national autonomy within a larger state was seen as an adequate guarantor of national rights to oppressed nations. Far from a consistent “Leninist position” of supporting the exercise of the right of national self-determination in nearly all cases, it is raised, what emerges as Lenin’s actual position is a theoretical “right” whose use is very rarely legitimated by historical conditions and the interests of the working class in practice, even where there are popular nationalist movements. Is this “right” really so far from the metaphysical formula that Rosa Luxemburg derided the principle of self-determination as?

Having dealt with the historical misapprehensions of Lenin’s position, it is time to reappraise the perspective of Rosa Luxemburg. Whilst her position is frequently presented as a theoretical innovation on her part, Luxemburg herself noted a longer anti-national heritage. Assessing the legacy of the earlier conspiratorial Polish socialist party, the Proletariat, she argued that they “fought nationalism by all available means and invariably regarded national aspirations as something which can only distract the working class from their own goals”.8 Far from national self-determination being an accepted orthodox Marxist position, we should keep in mind that the PPS had to argue for it at multiple congresses of the Second International in the case of Poland. After the revolutionary upsurges in Russia in 1905, a considerable segment of the PPS formed the PPS-Left, which similarly disavowed national independence as an immediate goal for socialists.

There were three core strands to Luxemburg’s opposition to national self-determination. Firstly, it was materially unviable given that no new nation could achieve economic independence owing to the spread of capitalism. Secondly, pursuing national self-determination in the form of supporting independence struggles did not make strategic sense for socialists as it inhibited them from placing political demands upon existing states. Finally, and most saliently for socialists today, even if national self-determination was politically and economically more than a utopian pipe-dream, it would still be against the interests of the working class to pursue it.

These latter two strands are more decisive in understanding Rosa Luxemburg’s position and are what make it more than a miscalculation rooted in economic determinism. Luxemburg herself appreciated the separation of the “economic” from the “political” under capitalism, as she argued capitalism “annihilated Polish national independence but at the same time created modern Polish national culture”.9 Far from being a national nihilist, Luxemburg stated that the proletariat “must fight for the defense of national identity as a cultural legacy, that has its own right to exist and flourish”.10 The 20th century has proven that political independence is materially possible. It has not shown that it is a remedy for national oppression and that it is a worthy goal for socialists.

National self-determination, in Luxemburg’s words, “gives no practical guidelines for the day to day politics of the proletariat, nor any practical solution of nationality problems”.11 As we can observe from Lenin’s policies on nationalities, there is no consistent conclusion that comes from the acknowledgment of this “right”. The only real conclusion is that affairs must be settled by the relevant nationality, which is presented as a homogeneous socio-political entity, as opposed to a site of class struggle in itself. The impracticality of this formula was not only resisted by Luxemburg, but also by Fritz Rozins, a Latvian socialist. Rozins, criticizing the position of Lenin in 1902, made the argument that several nations can occupy the same territory which problematized the demand for national self-determination.12

When examining contemporary manifestations of the national problem, these issues are thrown into sharper focus. In the case of Israel and Palestine, the framework of two competing claims of national self-determination which need to be reconciled with each other ultimately leads to endorsing an indefinite political and economic subordination of one nation by another. One way some sections of the modern Left attempt to address this is by rendering one nation’s claim (Israel’s) as inherently illegitimate, on account of its annexationist political project and racist domestic policy, and hence dismissing Hebrew Jewish people as constituting a national people with particular rights. However, making the right of national self-determination contingent upon the political project of its claimants would leave very few nations, if any, with this “right” at all, as its claimants tend to be an aspirational national bourgeoisie, whose class interests are tied to the continuation of the subjugation of the working class peoples within a territory, including working-class national minorities. The best way forward is to abandon such a “right” altogether, which assumes a basic unity between the interests of the oppressor and oppressed as part of the same nation. The question should instead be examined from the perspective of the common interests of the Israeli and Palestinian working classes against the Israeli state.

Abandoning national self-determination as a democratic “right”, which socialists should cease to guarantee as a part of their programmes is often equated with opposing national struggles in all cases. Rosa Luxemburg’s attitude to Armenia at the beginning of the 20th century demonstrates this is not the case. Unlike a number of her contemporaries who were concerned that the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire would only strengthen the hand of Tsarist Russia, Luxemburg argued emphatically that “the aspirations to freedom can here make themselves felt only in a national struggle” and hence that Social Democracy must “stand for the insurgents”.13 In her reasoning, the national struggle was appropriate for Armenia in a way that it was not for Poland, as the Armenian territories lacked a working-class, and were not bound to the Ottoman Empire by capitalist economic development, but by brute force. Perhaps ironically, this put her at odds with the Armenian Social Democrat David Ananoun, who rejected national secession on the grounds that new nation-states could not guarantee the rights of national minorities within them. The Armenian Social Democrats “always subordinated the solution of the national problem to the victory of the proletarian revolution”, including rejecting the specificity of Armenian situation.14 One could say they surpassed the supposed “international proletariat fundamentalism” of Rosa Luxemburg.

Both Ananoun and Luxemburg rejected territorial national self-determination as a framework, yet drew different conclusions in the specific case of Armenia. Why is that? By moving away from the idea that national oppression can be resolved by emergent nations, settling national oppression becomes the affair of the working class. Franz Mehring, on the left-wing of the SPD, clarified this in the case of Poland: “The age when a bourgeois revolution could create a free Poland is over, today the rebirth of Poland is only possible through a social revolution in which the modern proletariat breaks its chains”.15 Supporting a nationalist movement for Luxemburg only became tenable in the absence of an organized working class, and nationalism could not be the slogan raised to lead it. For Ananoun, conscious of the lack of capacity of forming coherent territorial states along ethnic lines in heterogeneous Transcaucasia, his position was conditioned by the concern of maintaining the rights and cultures of national minorities in territories that were necessarily going to contain multiple nationalities. This reveals the national question as it should be for the socialist movement: a question of the interests and the capacities of the working classes to place their demands upon bourgeois class states, and hence, the conquest of political power by the working classes. The maintenance of nationalities, in the form of culture and language, is part of the political and social rights that the working class wins through struggle against class states, not by creating them. Rather than debating whether a nation ought to exercise a “right” of self-determination, socialists should see the nation itself as a veil, under which contending classes are hidden.

What fundamentally determined Rosa Luxemburg’s attitude was understanding that nationalism was not an empty vessel in which socialists could pour in proletarian content. The ideology of nationhood intrinsically demands temporary class collaboration, at the very least, to the advantage of the ruling classes. An article she penned in January 1918, intended as friendly criticism of the early Soviet government’s policy on nationalities, most clearly articulates this perspective:

“The “right of nations to self-determination” is a hollow phrase which in practice always delivers the masses of people to the ruling classes.

Of course, it is the task of the revolutionary proletariat to implement the most expansive political democracy and equality of nationalities, but it is the least of our concerns to delight the world with freshly baked national class states. Only the bourgeoisie in every nation is interested in the apparatus of state independence, which has nothing to do with democracy. After all, state independence itself is a dazzling thing which is often used to cover up the slaughter of people.”16

This has been vindicated by historical experience. When we look at Poland today, a right-wing government is installing “Independence Benches” that play nationalist speeches.17 The speeches were delivered by none other than Józef Piłsudski, a former leader of the PPS who later abandoned socialism altogether. The warning of the Polish Communist Party, published in 1919, a year after Polish independence, that bourgeois “independence” in reality meant “the brutal dictatorship of the bourgeoisie over the proletariat” has proven more correct than any fantasy about the achievement of independence offering a permanent resolution to the national question, opening up the battlefield of class struggle.18 The formation of new class states does not resolve national oppression, so much as redistribute it.

Revolutionary internationalism, or the so-called “international proletariat fundamentalism”, stands as a rejoinder to those who seek shortcuts to social revolution by the construction of nation-states. Yet it also allows for a more positive assessment of nationalities. Rather than being bound to the political form of territorial states responsible for the oppression of millions across centuries, the traditions, institutions, and languages associated with nationalities can become part of a universal cultural legacy and human inheritance that requires neither the violence of borders nor of class rule. We can be moved by the words of the poet Adam Mickiewicz without scrambling to statehood. Capitalist development has made the endgame of the exercise of national self-determination, the nation-state, a dead-end for socialists. It is now necessary to pose the national question once more and seek different answers.


Monument to Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht, built in 1926 and destroyed in 1935.

Fragment on War, National Questions and Revolution

When hatred of the proletariat and the imminent social revolution is absolutely decisive for the bourgeoisie in all their deeds and activities, in their peace programme and in their policies for the future: what is the international proletariat doing? Completely blind to the lessons of the Russian Revolution, forgetting the ABCs of socialism, it pursues the same peace programme as the bourgeoisie, it elevates it to its own programme! Hail Wilson and the League of Nations! Hail national self-determination and disarmament! This is now the banner that suddenly socialists of all countries are uniting under – together with the imperialist governments of the Entente, with the most reactionary parties, the government socialist boot-lickers, the ‘true in principle’ oppositional swamp socialists, bourgeois pacifists, petty-bourgeois utopians, nationalist upstart states, bankrupt German imperialists, the Pope, the Finnish executioners of the revolutionary proletariat, the Ukrainian sugar babies of German militarism.

In Poland the Daszyńskis are in a cosy union with the Galician slaughterers and Warsaw’s big bourgeoisie, in German Austria, Adler, Renner, Otto Bauer, and Julius Deutsch are arm-in-arm with the Christian Socials, the landowners and the German Nationals, in Bohemia the Soukup and the Nemec are in a close phalanx with all the bourgeois parties – a touching reconciliation of the classes. And everywhere the national drunkenness: the international banner of peace! The socialists are pulling the bourgeoisie’s chestnuts out of the fire. They are helping, using their ideology and their authority, to cover up the moral bankruptcy of bourgeois society and to save it. They are helping to renovate and consolidate bourgeois class rule.

And the first practical coronation of this unctuous policy – the defeat of the Russian Revolution and the partition of Russia.

It is the politics of 4th August 1914, only turned upside down in the concave mirror of peace. The capitulation of class struggle, the coalition with each national bourgeoisie for the reciprocal wartime slaughter transformed into an international world coalition for a ‘negotiated peace’. The cheapest, the corniest old wives’ tale, a movie melodrama – that’s what they’re falling for: Capital suddenly vanished, class oppositions null and void. Disarmament, peace, democracy, and harmony of nations. Power bows before justice, the weak straighten their backs up. Krupp instead of cannons will produce Christmas lights, the American city Gari [?] will be turned into a Fröbel kindergarten. Noah’s Ark, where the lamb grazes peacefully next to the wolf, the tiger purrs and blinks like a big house cat, while the antelope crawls with horns tucked behind the ear, the lions and goats play with blind cows. And all that with the help of the magic formula of Wilson, of the president of the American billionaires, all that with the help of Clemenceau, Lloyd George and the Prince Max of Baden! Disarmament, after England and America are two new military powers! Disarmament, after the technology has immeasurably advanced. After all, states sit in the pocket of arms and finance capital through national debt! After colonies – colonies remain. The ideas of class struggle formally capitulate to national ideas here. The harmony of classes in every nation appears as the condition for and expansion of the harmony of nations that should emerge out of the world war in a ‘League of Nations’. 

Nationalism is an instant trump card. From all sides, nations and nationettes stake out a claim for their right to state formation. Rotted corpses rise out of hundred-year-old graves, filled with fresh spring shoots, and “historyless” peoples, who never formed an independent state entity up until now, feel a violent urge towards state formation. Poland, Ukraine, Belarussians, Lithuanians, Czechs, Yugoslavia, ten new nations of the Caucasus. Zionists are already erecting their Palestine Ghetto, provisionally in Philadelphia. It’s Walpurgis Night at Blockula today!

Broom and pitch-fork, goat and prong… To-night who flies not, never flies.

But nationalism is only a formula. The core, the historical content that is planted in it, is as manifold and rich in connections as the formula of  ‘national self-determination’, under which it is veiled, is hollow and sparse.

As in every great revolutionary period the most varied range of old and new scores come to be settled, oppositions are brought to their conclusions: antiquated remnants of the past, the most pressing issues of the present and the barely born problems of the future whirl together. The collapse of Austria and Turkey is the final liquidation of the feudal Middle Ages, an addendum to the work of Napoleon. In this context, however, Germany’s breakdown and diminution is the bankruptcy of the most recent and newest imperialism and its plans for world mastery, first formed in war. It is equally only the bankruptcy of a specific method of imperialist rule: by East Elbian reaction and military dictatorship, by siege and extermination methods, first used against the Hereros in the Kalahari Desert, now carried over to Europe. The disintegration of Russia, outwardly and in its formal results: the formation of small nation-states, analogous to the collapse of Austria and Turkey,  poses the opposite problem: on the one hand, capitulation of proletarian politics on a national scale before imperialism, and on the other capitalist counterrevolution against the proletarian seizure of power.

A K. [Kautsky] sees in this, in his pedantic, school-masterly schematism, the triumph of ‘democracy’, whose component parts and manifestation form are simply the nation-state. The washed-out petty-bourgeois formalist naturally forget to look into the inner historical core, forgets, as an appointed temple guard of historical materialism, that the ‘nation-state’ and ‘nationalism’ are empty pods into which each historical epoch and set of class relations pour their particular material content. German and Italian ‘nation-states’ in the 1870s were the slogan and the programme of the bourgeois state, of bourgeois class rule. Its leadership was directed against medieval, feudal past, the patriarchal, bureaucratic state and the fragmentation of economic life. In Poland the ‘nation-state’ was the traditional slogan of agrarian-noble and petty-bourgeois opposition to modern capitalist development. It was a slogan whose leadership was directed against the modern phenomena of life: both bourgeois liberalism and its antipode, the socialist workers movement. In the Balkans, in Bulgaria, Serbia and Romania, nationalism, the powerful outbreak of which was displayed in the two bloody Balkan wars as a prelude to the world war, was one hand an expression of aspirational capitalist development and bourgeois class rule in all these states, it was an expression of the conflicting interests of the bourgeoisie among themselves as well as the clash of their development tendency with Austrian imperialism. Simultaneously, the nationalism of these countries, although at heart only the expression of a quite young, germ-like capitalism, was and is colored in the general atmosphere of imperialist development, even with distinct imperial tendencies. In Italy, nationalism is already thoroughly and exclusively a company plaque for a purely imperialist colonial appetite. The nationalism of the Tripolitan war and the Albanian appetite has as little in common with the Italian nationalism of the 1850s and 1860s as Mr. Sonnino has with Giuseppe Garibaldi.

In Russian Ukraine, up until the October uprising in 1917, nationalism was nothing, a bubble, the arrogance of roughly a dozen professors and lawyers who mostly couldn’t speak Ukrainian themselves. Since the Bolshevik Revolution it has become the very real expression of the petty-bourgeois counterrevolution, whose head is directed against the socialist working class. In India, nationalism is the expression of an emerging domestic bourgeoisie, which aims for independent exploitation of the country on its account instead of only serving as an object for English capital to leech. This nationalism, therefore, corresponds with its social content and its historical stage like the emancipation struggles of the United States of America at the outset of the 18th century.

So nationalism reflects back all conceivable interests, nuances, historical situations. It shines in all colors. It is everything and nothing, a mere shell. Everything hangs on it to assert its own particular social core.

So the universal, immediate world explosion of nationalism brings with it the most colorful confusion of special interests and tendencies in its bosom. But there is an axis that gives all these special interests a direction, a universal interest created by the particular historical situation: the apex against the threatening world revolution of the proletariat.

The Russian Revolution, with the Bolshevik rule it brought forth, has put the problem of social revolution on the agenda of history. It has pushed the class contradictions between capital and labor to the most extreme heights. In one swoop, it has opened up a gaping chasm between both classes in which volcanic fumes boil and fierce flames blaze. Just as the June Rebellion of the Paris proletariat and the June massacres split bourgeois society into two classes for the first time between which there can only be one law: a struggle of life and death, Bolshevik rule in Russia has placed bourgeois society face to face with the final struggle of life and death. It has destroyed and blown away the fiction of the tame working class that is relatively peacefully organized by socialism, which bragged in theoretical, harmless phrases but practically worshipped the principle: live and let live – that fiction, which was what the practice of German Social Democracy and in its footsteps, the entire International, consisted of for the last thirty years. The Russian Revolution instantly destroyed the modus vivendi between socialism and capitalism, created out of the last half-century of parliamentarism, with a rough fist and transformed socialism from the harmless phrases of electoral agitation, the blue skies of the distant future, into a bloodily serious problem of the present, of today. It has brutally ripped open the old, terrible wounds of bourgeois society that had been healing since the June Days in Paris in 1848. 

All of this, of course, is initially only in the consciousness of the ruling classes. Just as the June Days, with the power of an electric shock, immediately imprinted the consciousness of an irreconcilable class opposition to the working class upon the bourgeoisie of all nations and cast a deadly hatred of the proletariat in their hearts whilst workers of all nations needed decades in order to adopt the same lessons of the June days for themselves, the consciousness of class opposition, it now repeats itself: The Russian Revolution has awakened a fuming, foaming, trembling fear and hatred of the threatening spectre of proletarian dictatorship in the entirety of the possessing classes in every single nation. It can only be compared with the sentiments of the Paris bourgeoisie during the June slaughters and the butchery of the Commune. ‘Bolshevism’ has become the catchword for practical, revolutionary socialism, for all endeavors of the working class to conquer power. In this rupturing of the social abyss within bourgeois society, in the international deepening and sharpening of class antagonism is the historical achievement of Bolshevism, and in this work – like in all great historical contexts – all errors and mistakes of Bolshevism vanish without a trace. 

These sentiments are now the deepest heart of the nationalist delirium in which the capitalist world has seemingly fallen, they are the objective historical content to which the many-colored cards of announced nationalisms are reduced. These small, young bourgeoisie that are now striving for independent existence, are not merely trembling with the desire for winning unrestricted and untrammeled class rule but also for the long-awaited delight of the single-handed strangling of their mortal enemy: the revolutionary proletariat. This is a function they had to concede up until now to the disjointed state apparatus of foreign rule. Hate, like love, is only grudgingly left to a third wheel. Mannerheim’s blood orgies, the Finnish Gallifet, show how much that the blazing heat of hate that has sprouted up in the hearts of all small nations in the last few years, all the Poles, Lithuanians, Romanians, Ukrainians, Czechs, Croats, etc., only waited for the opportunity to finally disembowel the proletariat with ‘national’ means. From all these young nations, which like white and innocent lambs hopped along in the grassy meadows of world history, the carbuncle-like eyes of the grim tiger are already looking out and waiting to “settle the accounts” with the first stirrings of “Bolshevism”. Behind all of the idyllic banquets, the roaring festivals of brotherhood in Vienna, in Prague, in Zagreb, in Warsaw,  Mannerheim’s open graves are already yawning and the Red Guards have to dig them themselves! The gallows of Charkow shimmer like faint silhouettes and the Lubinskys and Holubowitsches invited the German ‘liberators’ to Ukraine for their erection.

And the same fundamental idea reigns in the entire peace programme of Wilson. The “League of Nations” in the atmosphere of Anglo-American imperialism being drunk on victory and the frightening spectre of Bolshevism traversing the world stage can only bring forth one thing: a bourgeois world alliance for the repression of the proletariat. The first blood-soaked sacrifice that the High Priest Wilson, atop his omens, will make in front of the Ark of ‘The League of Nations’ will be Bolshevik Russia. The ‘self-determined nations’, victors and vanquished together, will overthrow it.

The ruling classes once again show their unerring instinct for their class interests, their wonderfully fine sensitivity for the dangers surrounding them. Whilst on the surface, the bourgeoisie are enjoying the loveliest weather and the proletarians of all countries are getting drunk on nationalist and ‘League of Nations’ spring breezes, bourgeois society is being torn limb from limb which heralds the impending change of seasons as the historical barometer falls. Whilst socialists are foolishly eager to pull their chestnuts of peace out of the fire of world war, as ‘national ministers’, they can’t help but see the inevitable, imminent fate behind their backs: the terrible rising spectre of social world revolution that has already silently stepped onto the back of the stage.

It is the objective unsolvability of the tasks bourgeois society faces that makes socialism a historical necessity and world revolution unavoidable.

No one can predict how long this final period will last and what forms it will take. History has already left the well-trodden path and the comfortable routine. Every new step, every new turn of the road opens up new perspectives and new scenery.

What is important is to understand the real problem of the period. The problem is called: the dictatorship of the proletariat, the realization of socialism. The difficulties of the task do not lie in the strength of the opponent, the resistance of bourgeois society. Its ultima ratio: the army is useless for the suppression of the proletariat as a result of the war, it has even become revolutionary itself. Its material basis for existence: the maintenance of society has been shattered by the war. Its moral basis for existence: tradition, routine, and authority have all been blown away by the wind. The whole structure has become loosened, fluid, movable. The conditions for struggle have never been so favourable for any emergent class in world history. It can fall into the lap of the proletariat like a ripe fruit. The difficulty lies in the proletariat itself, in its lack of maturity, or rather, the immaturity of its leaders, the socialist parties. The working class balks, it recoils before the uncertain enormity of its duty again and again. But it must, it must. History takes away all of its excuses: to lead us out of the night and horror of oppressed humanity into the light of liberation.

Faith, Family and Folk: Against the Trad Left

Donald Parkinson takes issue with the calls for a “socially conservative leftism” that have increased in popularity since Jeremy Corbyn’s defeat in the UK election. 

Socially conservative, economically leftist 

The recent UK election has been a test of faith for many. Seeing countless working-class people vote for a gang of pedophiles, who want to cut the NHS in the name of nationalism, is a dark sign for Marxists who are invested in class politics as the pathway to an emancipated world. Regardless of how one feels about social-democracy or bourgeois elections, this was a defeat for the left. Nationalism triumphed over classical working-class politics attempting a return to the national stage. 

The defeat of Jeremy Corbyn by Brexit has been seen as validation for an ideology that can be described in short as “socially conservative, economically leftist.” The argument goes as follows: given the choice between economic redistribution and nationalism, the working class has chosen nationalism. Therefore the left needs to embrace nationalism along with all the other parochial “forces of habit” found in the working class if they want to win. A recent example is the advocacy group Blue Labour, which at least gives an honest argument for these politics without obfuscation. 

Blue Labour argues that the politics of social conservatism aligned with economic leftism has a new majority, a silent majority if you will. It calls for a politics that is “Internationalist and European” but “not globalist, nor universalist nor cosmopolitan.” It calls for embracing the parochial against the universalist in the name of resisting the commodification of labor, not unlike the “Reactionary Socialism” maligned by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. Yet instead of arguing for a return to feudalism, Blue Labour wants to return to a Fordist economy where the family and nation are stabilized by a protectionist social order. 

This argument is given theoretical justification in a paper by Steve Hall and Simon Winlow. Hall and Winlow paint a historical picture of the British Left as a sort of battle waged by middle-class reformers trying to enforce a cosmopolitan morality on a socially conservative working class. According to Hall and Winlow, these reformers were first found in organizations like the Reform League and Fabians, entering the Labour Party to force their middle-class ideals on the workers’ movement. Fair enough, but Hall and Winlow accuse Engels of wanting to destroy working-class life to open the space for socialism, and claim the Soviet Union was inspirational to the Fabians because it was “yet another system imposed upon the working class by a middle-class vanguard.” 

Then the article ventures into the territory of rightist conspiracy theories about “Cultural Marxism”, claiming that the Frankfurt School and the post-structuralist academics were merely a continuation of these middle-class reformers. Here we find a narrative best expounded by Christopher Lasch in his seminal Revolt of the Elites, in which middle-class technocrats try to impose social engineering on a wholesome “common people”, people with a healthy instinct of revulsion towards top-down social engineering. This is a worldview where anyone who strives to fight for socially progressive ideas amongst the working class is inherently a “middle-class outsider” trying to force their ways upon the righteous common folk. 

This is also a worldview that has been bubbling under the surface since Marxist theorists like Michel Clouscard and Christopher Lasch critiqued what they saw as a narcissistic and libertine superstructure that reinforced and served modern capitalism, particularly after 1968. Today figures like Angela Nagle and Aimee Terese repeat similar critiques to an online audience.  A common target is open borders and LGBTQ politics, and appeals are made for the left to make peace with the social-conservatism that (supposedly) dominates the working class. At the same time, Tucker Carlson calls attention to a potential electoral majority that is “culturally conservative and economically populist”, which can challenge a “state religion of woke politics” and the “elite left”. In the journal American Affairs, formerly pro-Trump, a more intellectual case is more for this kind of politics. A general political trend seems to be emerging in both the left and the right, basing itself on the premise that organizing the working class and challenging liberal capitalism means turning to social conservatism and even embracing traditional values. To quote a tweet from the leftist podcaster Sean P. McCarthy: 

Seems to me like religion, family, and the nation state are all things that give people a sense of community and duty counter to the alienation and loneliness of late stage capitalism and the left should probably shut up about abolishing them and let people enjoy things. 

In this, we see three of the main categories that the left is supposed to make peace with. Religion, family, and nation-state have long been critiqued by the left as an ideological fetishism and forms of oppression and alienation. This is not some deviation of a “postmodern cultural turn”, as some like to claim in an attempt to appeal to an earlier form of leftism where class issues were at the forefront. The Bolsheviks included figures like Alexandra Kollontai, who sought to overcome the bourgeois family while her comrades called for a radical internationalism that aimed to make no compromise with national chauvinism. These positions are a continuation of the radical enlightenment convictions baked into Marxism that critiques all oppressive superstitions that limit human potential. Yet with the left losing harder than ever, many think that it’s time to give up on these convictions. They think it is time to make peace with and even start appealing to what is essentially reactionary tradition in the name of building a movement that will effectively challenge neoliberal capitalism, both economically and culturally.

We can call this tendency “traditionalist leftism”, or “trad leftism” for short. It is a form of populism that sees the working classes as inherently morally correct no matter how organized or politically conscious. To even see social backwardness as a phenomenon among the working class to be challenged is to capitulate to a petty-bourgeois moralism more concerned with abstract universalism than the direct needs of workers. The working class is scared of migrants, alienated by trans people, and annoyed by the feminists who seek to guilt them for desiring a stable family life, the argument goes. To oppose these attitudes is to play the role of the middle-class reformer who seeks to impose progressive values on the workers against their will. As a result, the trad leftists implicitly call for a program of strong borders and strong families along with a paternalistic welfare state, sometimes flirting with an embrace of religion. After all, wasn’t Stalin himself opposed to homosexuality, making concessions to the Orthodox Church? 

In a previous article, I argued against similar logic, albeit one that was less outright in favor of chauvinism, by arguing that a politics of economism that focuses purely on the bread-and-butter is anti-Marxist rather than authentically Marxist. Yet to simply appeal to “true Marxism” to show why the trad leftists are wrong helps us little when most people don’t consider themselves Marxists in the first place. Moralizing or calling people Strasserites won’t help us either. Instead, we need strong political arguments as to why an economist “leftism” that appeals to nation, family, and church is not the answer to the problems facing us today, especially for when we engage with working-class communities that themselves hold conservative sentiments.  

Nation

Let us begin with the issue of the nation. Blue Labour argues that a politics that “opposes borders and the idea of the nation… cannot develop an alternative story of democratic nationhood, nor one about belonging, nor about international relations.” The underlying premise here is that it is only through nationalism and the nation-state that a democratic polity can be constructed, and since a democratic polity is necessary for leftist politics leftists must embrace the nation. This entails embracing border control to limit migration and putting “our own workers first.” It is a political logic that aims to affirm the nation-state as a protective shield against the power of the global market, with neoliberal capitalism a contradiction between national sovereignty and globalization. Outright Marxists like Wolfgang Streck have made these sorts of claims, arguing for a distinction between “people of the state” and “people of the market” to assert that without a strong national community there is no possibility of opposing capitalism. 

Following this logic, various leftists like Angela Nagle and Paul Cockshott have argued that leftists should welcome rather than oppose immigration controls. Ultimately this argument follows an unspoken premise that right-wing nationalists have been repeating since the dawn of the nation-state, which is that social programs rely on an ethnically homogenous community. Therefore, if leftists want to rebuild a welfare state ravaged by neo-liberalism they have no choice but to become advocates of a strong nation-state to preserve the homogeneity of the nation in the face of immigration. And the longer they wait to do this, the longer they will lose like Jeremy Corbyn.

Blue Labour argue that rejecting the national can only mean embracing an “abstract universalism” as opposed to a concrete and actually existing national community. From this abstract universalism, one can only fail to actually form a working-class polity. Yet what the argument seems to forget is that nation-states themselves at one point were merely abstract universalism. The French Revolution developed the modern nation through a notion of universal citizenship that sought to ensure the rights of man, and to form the nation-state a disparate collection of agrarian communities had to be mobilized in the name of these rights. Through a process of political mobilization and organization, the abstract nation was made into a concrete political reality, centralizing different communities under a representative government with rights, duties, and a common language.

If it was possible to do this for the original nation-state then it is also possible to take an abstract internationalism and turn it into a concrete polity. The Second International began such a project, building a working-class culture that oriented itself around a “demonstration culture”, which sought to build a sense of international community among a federation of national parties.1 By organizing the working class around principles of solidarity with workers of all nations and forming transnational institutions, it is possible to build a democratic community that is not rooted in a particular nation. This isn’t going to be easy; the Second International ultimately succumbed to nationalism. Yet to say that only the nation provides a basis for building a democratic community is to surrender to the path of least resistance and ignore the possibilities contained in history. 

If we aim to build this international community of proletarians, we must oppose immigration controls. As Donna Gabaccia shows in her work Militants and Migrants, the process of migration has been key in the formation of transnational working-class communities.2 To say that immigration controls are necessary because the nation is the only way workers can form a political community is to impose conditions that make transnational working-class communities more difficult to form.

Another issue with embracing the nation-state is that we are entering a global crisis of climate change that simply cannot be addressed on the national level. Developing the kind of response needed to the potential catastrophe on the horizon is going to require cooperation beyond the national level and working towards a global planned economy. The alternative is that nations compete to have the least disastrous downfall, protecting their respective populations from the worst while shutting out those suffering like a sinking lifeboat. It is imperative that humanity moves beyond the nation-state if it is going to survive. 

Family 

“Abolition of the family” has long been a controversial position amongst communists, prompting Marx and Engels to have to address it in the Communist Manifesto when defending themselves from right-wing attacks. The response of Marx and Engels was to point out that the family was already withering away in the face of capitalism for much of the proletariat, an observation that is made today by the trad leftists to argue that an embrace of family values is the logical conclusion of anti-capitalist politics. 

I will concede to the trad leftists that “abolish the family” is not exactly a winning slogan. This is not because it scares workers but because it doesn’t effectively communicate what we are aiming for. We should be more precise in our language, and set our sights more specifically on patriarchy. It is the dependence of women on husbands and of children on their parents that we wish to do away with, not the cohabitation of kinship and the emotional support that comes with it. Of course, there are some leftists like Sophie Lewis who see a future beyond the family based on universal surrogacy, a vision that seems more designed to troll the trad leftists than as a genuine political program. Such visions are genuinely alienating, yet their existence does not require an equally contrarian response that affirms the traditional family. 

According to Christopher Lasch, the family is a “haven in a heartless world”. If social life is reduced to pure economic competition between atomized individuals, then the family, for those lucky enough to still have one, is one of the few forms of community they have. There is no doubt that the destruction of the family by capitalism with nothing to replace it is quite grim and psychically horrifying. Yet it is mistaken to idealize the family as an escape from the impersonal alienation of the market, when for many people the family is itself a form of personal and direct alienation. Not everyone lives in a world where their family is their friend; in many cases, one’s family can be their worst enemy. We can do better than valorizing one form of alienation in response to another. 

Rather than returning to the family in the face of its destruction under capitalism, we should seek to create a world where the haven of the family is not necessary. Rather than a society full of broken families, we need a society where someone without a family can thrive as well as someone with family intact. This is what “abolishing the family” truly means: to end the economic relations of dependence of wives and children on the patriarch so that kinship is based on voluntary relationships of genuine love and community. This would entail not ending the ability of parents to raise their children, but instead giving children the option to leave their families if they are abusive, while retaining support networks beyond the misery of foster care. It would mean ending the unpaid domestic labor of women that reproduces the nuclear family, by socializing this work and removing its gendered connotations.

This is not to mention that a reassertion of family values could only be done through a turn towards a vile culture of patriarchy. We must understand that patriarchy is not simply an attitude of men, but a historically derived mode of production with institutional forms according to which the wife and children are the property of the father and perform what is essentially slave labor to reproduce the household as an economic unit. To turn back to the traditional family would require empowering this economic unit by reinforcing the conditions under which women are essentially the property of their husbands. Until the trad left is willing to own up to this and describe the measures they will take to accomplish this, their gloating about family values is merely subcultural posturing. 

Religion 

The issue of religion is hardly cut and dry. Religious belief has been an ideological force for mobilizing the vilest of reactionary movements, such as the Iron Guard in Romania or the current rightist coup in Bolivia. Yet at the same time, religious sentiment has been used to mobilize those on the side of socialism and decolonization, such as Catholic Liberation Theology or Muslim National Communism. It could be argued that a policy of secularism rather than militant atheism is preferable, with militant atheism having done more harm than good for the Communist project by alienating potential sympathizers. 

Yet for the trad left the question of religion goes beyond the question of whether someone can hold religious beliefs while also being a good communist militant. For much of the trad left an embrace of religion is coupled with a turn towards social-conservatism. It is obvious why; embracing a social-conservative viewpoint is impossible without distorting Marxism. Within religious doctrines, one can find an ethical appeal to justify taking up the reactionary viewpoints they see in the working class. There is also a communitarian and collectivist element to religion that, like the family, can serve as a “haven in a heartless world” which can be counterposed to atomizing liberal individualism. Another factor is the lack of an (at least explicit) ethical framework in Marxism, a belief system that exists as counterposed to utopian socialists who aimed to build socialism on the foundation of ethical ideals.

Examples of socialists turning to Catholicism or other religious tendencies are primarily niche phenomena on Twitter, but there are some more famous examples, like Catholic Elizabeth Bruenig, known for her anti-abortion stance. An attempt to articulate such a politics programmatically can be found in the “Tradinista Manifesto”, written by “a small party of young Christian socialists committed to traditional orthodoxy, to a politics of virtue and the common good, and to the destruction of capitalism, and its replacement by a truly social political economy.” 

The Tradinista Manifesto is essentially an internet shitpost with no historical importance. I only turn to it as a good example of the contradictory nature of the social-conservative left and problems with turning to religious values as a counter to liberal capitalism. It begins by asserting that Christ is king and that the polity should, therefore, promote the teachings of the Church, “autonomous but not fully separate from the Church”. What we have here seems to be a sort of light theocracy, albeit a theocracy that is supposed to promote economic justice. The vision of economic justice here is a sort of Proudhonism, not dissimilar to Catholic distributism. Class society is to be eradicated while property rights are also asserted. The solution is the promotion of worker cooperatives, everyone becoming a property owner. How this vision is supposed to be feasible given the development of modern productive forces is left to the imagination. 

Even more contradictory is the simultaneous rejection and promotion of sexual conservatism. Our Catholic authors claim to be against “Racism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and similar forms of oppression” yet at the same time claim that “Marriage and family life should be specially supported by the polity to promote the common good” while also taking a “pro-life” stance against abortion. This is a stance that may make sense to the religious idealist, but to a Marxist it is nonsensical. According to Engels, the wife was the first form of private property and the institution of the family is the economic basis upon which the oppression of women rests. Such a position is like calling for the abolition of obesity while supporting the fast-food industry. 

This contradiction captures the very bind that the trad socialists find themselves in. In calling for left-wing economics and social conservative cultural values, they fail to recognize that social conservative values only have purchase because of the division of society into classes and the various forms of oppression that accompany them. People turn to various traditional structures like the family and religion partly because they serve as shelters from the worst aspects of capitalist society. There is, of course, the force of habit that these attitudes have instilled in people which often dies hard. Yet it is unbelievable that a strengthening of the family would be a feature of a world where economic equality was the norm, unless women were systematically excluded from this norm in order to avoid granting them economic independence. Authentically ending class society therefore entails ending patriarchy.

We also find here a problem with trying to base politics on religion in general, as a religious ethics tends to be based on a priori claims that are not subject to further questioning and therefore must be held to. Alexander Bogdanov referred to this as “authoritarian causality,” a type of thinking that holds causality to be rooted in a greater power that exists before all other causes.3  Religious traditions see the work of god or gods as this final cause and therefore hold ethics to stem from these gods, making them unquestionable. This means that a collective and democratic understanding of what defines the “good life” is out of the question, since this answer is already taken as an item of faith.4 So when the Tradinsitas attempt to construct a left-wing politics for the modern world, they are forced to adhere to the Catholic Church’s dogma of being against abortion while simultaneously claming to be against misogyny, resulting in an incoherent politics. 

Despite these contradictions, the desire for an ethical grounding beyond the scientific analysis of history provided by Marxism is real. It is my opinion that for us communists, ethical nihilism is not a tenable position. A basic ethical worldview is needed. Perhaps we can find this in the ethics of classical republicanism, a discourse that was implicit in the entire early socialist movement that Marx and Engels were embedded in. Or, maybe Lunacharksy’s “god-building” is the solution, wherein the wake of the old religions’ destruction humanity must build a new religious system devoid of superstition, which can provide a moral grounding for humanity. Such a moral grounding must be universalist and based in reason, not in a traditional creed that isn’t subject to further questioning. Regardless of how one feels about these ideas, turning to the old religious dogmas is not a solution to the problem, even on pragmatic grounds. One’s religious sentiments are very much rooted in their own upbringing and personal experiences, and cannot unify the masses of wage workers around a common human task of overcoming class society. A pluralistic approach that allows for the participation of religious socialists in a greater movement, unified around a truly universalist radicalism, is preferable. 

Is liberal capitalism inherently socially progressive? 

It is a common talking point of the trad left that capitalism destroys all the patriarchal and traditional bonds of the old communities, creating an atomized liberal individual who can be exploited by capital. Julius Evola, the ultimate philosopher of traditionalism, famously said that capitalism is just as subversive as communism. With this there can be no real disagreement. Yet this premise is taken a step further with the argument that to truly be opposed to capital means to affirm these traditional forms and protect them from erosion by capitalism. To be socially progressive, they say, is only to do the work of capitalism for the capitalists, and the left is nothing more than a vanguard of liberalism as long as it maintains an opposition to social conservatism. 

The idea that capitalism is inherently socially progressive and antagonistic to social conservatism should be held up to closer scrutiny. This brings us to the theories of Karl Polanyi and his notion of the “Double movement.”5 According to Polanyi, capitalism is unique because of its tendency to subsume all elements of social life to the nexus of market exchange, alienating all that was once inalienable. Focusing on 19th Century England, Polanyi discussed the transformation of “natural” communities, in which land and labor had an inherent worth that was mediated through relations of personal duty and obligation, where now these are objects of abstract exchange. Where labor was once mediated by tradition and custom it now carries a price tag, subject to the whims of market anarchy. As Karl Marx would say, “all that is solid melts into air.” 

In Polanyi’s vision this movement of capital to subsume all that exists outside of it inevitably triggers a countermovement to protect social order from this corrosion, as the market will eventually destroy the foundations upon which it functions. This countermovement can take many forms, from national protectionism to communitarianism to the welfare state. Against the atomization of humanity into sellable commodities there is an assertion of social solidarities that aim to restore what was destroyed. The countermovement is seen as external to the logic of the market, yet at the same time necessary for its functioning if society is not to fall into a war of all against all. 

Polanyi would make an excellent theorist for the trad left, as using his framework one could call for a reassertion of the family, nation and church as social solidarities to provide the foundation of a countermovement against neoliberal capitalism. Yet by identifying capitalism solely with the logic of the market and social disintegration, Polanyi overestimates how much these countermovements are actually outside of capital. He sets up a situation where any reaction to capitalism will be inherently conservative, defending and reasserting the traditional ways of life that are disrupted by capitalism. Yet what if the movement of capital and the countermovement against it, the double movement, are internal to capitalism, rather than the latter being external to it? 

Melinda Cooper, in her work Family Values, develops exactly this critique by looking at the role of the family in the history of neoliberalism. Drawing on the work of Wendy Brown, Cooper argues that neoliberalism and neoconservatism both need to be understood as a greater dialectic within capitalism. To do this, she focuses on the role of family in policy and discourse from both neoliberals and neoconservatives, showing how both political tendencies were invested in the maintenance of the family as the basis of a society based on market contracts. Neoliberals like Gary S. Becker and Milton Friedman used concern over the disruption of the family by welfare as a reason to promote the welfare reform, not simply as a matter of cost-cutting, but as a way to promote the equilibrium of the family as a sound basis for the equilibrium of the market.6 This throws into question the understanding of neoliberalism as having an inherently socially progressive superstructure of hedonistic sexual liberation from the family. Milton and Rose Friedman would write in their book Tyranny of the Status Quo that

If we are right that the tide is turning, that public opinion is shifting away from a belief in big government and away from the doctrine of social responsibility, then that change…will tend to restore a belief in individual responsibility by strengthening the family and reestablishing its traditional role.7 

For the neoliberals, the family was a spontaneous order that would develop when set free from the distortions of welfare and provide a basis upon which the market could flourish. Neoliberal welfare reforms aimed to make the family rather than the state absorb the cost of externalities, which meant that welfare reforms aimed for more than just budget trimming, but also for enforcing family morality. For neoconservatives, the family was something to be actively protected that required intervention from the state. When the family didn’t develop as a spontaneous order due to neoliberal reforms, neoconservatism as a political force was necessary to reassert the family as a countermovement. Cooper summarizes the relationship of the two ideologies to the family as follows:

If neoliberals were adamant that the economic obligations of family should be enforced even when the legal and affective bonds of kinship had broken down, social conservatives were intent on actively rekindling the family as a moral institution based on the unpaid labor of love. Both agreed, however, that the private family (rather than the state) should serve as the primary source of economic security.8


Neoliberalism and neoconservatism can be seen as an example of how Polanyi’s double movement is a dialectic internal to capitalism itself, with countermovements that aim to reassert what is destroyed by market forces acting to facilitate the reproduction of capitalism as a whole. As a result, countermovements that assert the family or nation as protective shields against the worst aspects of capitalism do not offer a way out of capitalism; they instead act to stabilize it. Furthermore, market liberalism does not necessarily entail a social progressive superstructure. The capitalist zealots most intent on subsuming all life to the market have seen an important role for family life, even if they leave its promotion to other political forces. Seeing the rise of alternative lifestyles and sexualities as simply a superstructural expression of neoliberalism is ultimately too simplistic and ignores how social conservatism synchronizes with neoliberalism. 

What is necessary is an emancipatory alternative to class society itself that can transcend the dialectic of market liberalism and social conservatism, rather than assert one side of it against the other. The destruction of village and family life in capitalism nonetheless creates a community of the proletariat which is engaged in collective labor in the workplace and community, fostering the potential for a new community that is not rooted in parochial ways of life. The formation of this community through transnational alliances as a political collectivity allows for a way forward, beyond the atomization of the market and patriarchal nationalism alike. 

Is the working-class naturally conservative? 

Many of those who would make arguments similar to Blue Labour may not themselves have much attachment to the traditional family or nationalism, but think that the left simply needs to abandon social progressivism out of a pragmatic need to appeal to the working class. This notion is based on the premise that the working class is “naturally socially conservative” and that mobilizing them for the purpose of economic redistribution should take precedence over struggles for the ‘recognition’ of marginalized peoples. 

This notion can be found in a recent overview of the most recent work of Thomas Piketty by Jan Rovny. According to Rovny, the pattern of voting in which lower-income brackets voted for the left while upper brackets voted for the “Merchant right” has been disrupted by the process of neoliberal deindustrialization. While the wealthiest still vote for the right wing, the constituency of the left parties is no longer the working class but middle-class professionals, often referred to as the PMC (professional-managerial class). Now what remains of the working class is picked up by right-wing populist parties, in a reversal of the political realignment of the early 20th century when political parties with a working-class base had socially progressive agendas. 

The explanation as to why the socially progressive left was able to win over the working class is that the old equivalent of the Brahmin left (examples given are Jean Jaurès and Léon Blum) were able to push against the inherent social conservatism of the working class. These middle class intellectuals “translated working class authoritarian tendencies into a fight for universalistic social progress” and “replaced nationalistic tendencies of the working classes with socialist internationalism”. Rovny takes issue with Piketty’s optimism that this can happen again for two reasons: for one, the left cannot square the economic interests of the working class with progressive middle-class intellectuals, and furthermore right-wing populists are able to meet the economic interests of the working class without the added baggage of social progressivism. 

The problem with this argument is that it naturalizes both the social conservatism of the working class and the social progressivism of the middle-class professionals. Working-class social conservatism is not a “natural” result of their spontaneous life experiences but a product of the institutions that dominate their lives. Right-wing demagogues in the media and other institutions such as churches actively fight to win ideological domination over the working class and channel economic grievances into chauvinistic attitudes. Working-class conservatism is not a natural inherent quality of the working class, but something they are socialized into by political actors who actively struggle for domination over everyday life. It is something historically and institutionally determined, not “natural”. 

Social progressivism among the professional stratum is a similar phenomenon, also something historically and institutionally determined. This social progressivism is related to the fact that this stratum serves the role of ideologically justifying the rule of the capitalist class. The “woke” ideology of this stratum is a product of the role they play as HR managers for a capitalist order that aims to nakedly exploit the global proletariat and manage the imperialist order, while still presenting itself as progressive by offering economic opportunity for marginalized people. Their social progressivism is designed to leave as much room as possible for capitalism to function while ensuring that it preserves opportunities for those who were previously left out. If capitalism loses the need for a socially progressive mask then we can expect to see this stratum embrace a nakedly reactionary chauvinism. 

This understanding of the petty-bourgeois professional as inherently socially progressive with the working class as inherently socially conservative puts us in a position where any attempt to fight for genuine communist politics can only be understood as middle-class wankers trying to beat an alien ideology into the working class. It is also just as condescending to the working class as the middle-class liberals that the trad left rightfully condemn because it assumes the working class is too narrow-minded to embrace a universalist and progressive worldview. The truth is that the working class has no institutions of its own in much of the world right now, and therefore cannot be said to have an ideology of its own. As a result, it is a plaything of socially reactionary and socially progressive sections of the ruling class. 

The lesson here is that we need to struggle against both social conservative demagogues who preach to the working class as well as the woke professional stratum and expose their hypocrisy. If the right can dominate the social life of the working class through its institutions and win them to its own platform, then the left can as well. It has been done before, and there is no need to square their economic interests with those of salaried professionals. This struggle has to take place in the realm of politics as well as the terrain of everyday life. It will certainly be an uphill battle, given the domination of our enemies and the unwillingness of the left to actually build a working-class base. We cannot put faith in the working class to spontaneously take up an emancipatory communist politics, nor can we surrender emancipatory communist politics to win easy support by playing to people’s prejudices. There will be many defeats on the way, like the one we saw in the UK. But to give in is not an option; we have to fight for the truth and not sacrifice our principles because of demoralization and a desire for easy victories. 

Why Define Fascism?: In Defence of Making Distinctions

Jacob Smith argues that if the left wishes to take fascism seriously we shouldn’t use the term lightly but with precision. 

Italian dictator and Prime Minister Benito Mussolini reviews troops, 29 October 1937

Some weeks ago Natasha Lennard, Intercept correspondent and author of a forthcoming book from Verso, Being Numerous: Essays On Non-Fascist Life, was making the rounds on lefty podcasts. While fascism was the topic of her conversations, Lennard pointedly declined to ever define the term or engage with the debate over its meaning and application. She seemed opposed, as a matter of principle, to narrow down a definition past mere linguistic descriptivism—treating “fascism” as “that which is called fascism”. I’m not sure what to make of a political writer who refuses to define her terms, and I am uncertain why anything that follows from that refusal should be taken seriously, but it would be a mistake to see her distaste for making distinctions merely as a personal idiosyncrasy. Declining to define the term “fascism” or defining it in extremely broad and all-encompassing ways has become common from the liberal center to the radical fringe.

Few political labels are as evocative or incendiary as “fascism.” Within some circles, it approaches being a generic derogatory term. Historically, however, the term is highly specific. It came out of a post-World War One, right-wing Italian nationalist movement, and the word itself refers to ancient Roman symbolism. Because of the close political alliance between the Fascist government of Italy and the Nazi party of Germany, “fascism” became a general term for violent far-right movements in Europe after WWI, usually including the governments of Hungary, Spain, and occasionally collaborationist states like Vichy France. The resemblance between these far-right movements emerged from similar circumstances: massive social upheaval and, most importantly, defeated workers’ revolutions. The historical markers of fascism include heavily armed paramilitary forces seizing state power and imposing brutal, anti-labor, anti-communist, and usually racist and sexist, regimes. Anti-semitism was common in historical fascist states but not ubiquitous and not limited to those fascist states.

In order for the term “fascism” to be useful, it cannot demand the exact replication of the historical circumstances of the 1920s and 30s, but it also cannot be so broad that it includes any and every violent, repressive, right-wing state. The term cannot be useful if it applies equally to Italy under Benito Mussolini, Germany under Otto von Bismarck, and India under the British Empire. It does not enhance our political theory to have a catch-all term for every form of capitalism that rejects liberal democracy.

Highly authoritarian governments with violent police forces are common in historical fascism, colonial empires, and military dictatorships. Brutally violent law enforcement and authoritarian dictatorship are far too common to be considered a mark of fascism. To include under the banner of “fascism” both Brazil under Michel Temer and the French Empire under Napoleon makes the term incoherent and meaningless. More importantly, it ignores the well-trod history of both liberal democracy and republicanism producing authoritarian police states, as in Brazil, and dictatorships producing otherwise progressive and liberal regimes, as in France. Just as there is no contradiction between police violence and capitalist liberal democracy, authoritarian dictatorships have not always had the other repressive and reactionary features associated with fascism.

The same is true of extreme, state-sanctioned, racism and sexism. In recent years China has carried out a project of ethnic replacement in Tibet and Xinjiang. Women are formal second-class citizens in the Gulf States. Legal segregation remained in full effect in the American South during Roosevelt’s New Deal. There is no form of political rule under class society that has not, at one time or another, produced a brutally racist and sexist state.

Although antisemitism is often considered a marker of fascism and most self-described fascists today are viciously anti-semitic, anti-semitism was actually the particular focus of only one historical fascist state, Germany, and prior to their defeat and the publicization of their crimes, anti-semitism was completely mainstream in European and American society. In order to understand the role that anti-semitism played in Nazi Germany, we have to have a deeper historical understanding of anti-semitism. Although it is often considered a form of racial or ethnic bias, the long history of anti-semitism in European society shows that it is not just a generic animus. Jewish people were not just shunned or ostracized as an underclass in the manner of racial minorities in the US or Dalits in India, they were feared and hated as an internal enemy of Christian Europe. This made Jewish people an ideal scapegoat for the far-right, as they could be attacked both as outsiders, subversive others, and as a fifth column, undermining the nation from within. Nazi ideology made anti-semitism one of its central components, but the ideas that underlie it and made the Holocaust possible were widespread, as evidenced by Jewish refugees being turned away from Britain, the US, and Canada, on explicitly anti-semitic grounds.

Although ethnic nationalism is not exclusive to fascism, a unique form of it is present in all varieties of fascism–from the 20th century through to today. Fascism in Germany and Italy held up “the nation” or “the people” as the right-wing answer to communist internationalism. By erasing the differences in interests between classes and proposing other antagonisms, ethnic or national, forming a political identity around the nation state allows for the creation of powerful and durable cross-class alliances. For the Nazis, this was an alliance between Germany’s industrial capitalists and middle class of shopkeepers, army officers, middle managers and government bureaucrats– an alliance that was able to crush the German labor movement and their political parties, the Social Democrats and Communists.

Against the internationalism of the Soviet Union and the German Communist Party, the Nazis constructed a radical nationalism, and the rest of Nazi ideology follows that pattern. With prominent Jewish leaders like Karl Marx, Rosa Luxemburg, and Leon Trotsky, communism was smeared as a Jewish plot, and the Nazis came to see the fight against communism and the fight against the Jewish population of central Europe as synonymous. In response to the radical egalitarianism of communism, Nazism became obsessed with societal hierarchies, which had both a racial component, the superiority of “Aryan” Germans to other races, and a sexual component, reinforcing the traditional societal roles of men and women and attempting to exterminate all sexual preferences and gender presentations that did not conform to those roles.

Repressive right-wing governments throughout modern history have displayed this kind of generic, across-the-board, reactionary, revanchist conservatism. What is unique about historical fascism is the class of people enacting it. In both Germany and Italy, the industrial capitalists materially and politically backed fascist movements, but the actual tool that expressed fascism’s power was the armed militias, the street-fighting formations that broke up the workers’ movement and forced the abdication of the liberal democratic governments. This is a different social force which results in a different political system than superficially similar projects enacted by military dictatorships and traditional capitalist parties.

Understanding fascism as an insurgent middle-class response to the threat of workers’ revolution helps explain the revival of fascism today. What we see is not a fully formed “fascist” movement, but glimmers of the same reactionary middle-class energy that animated the Blackshirts and the Brownshirts. To some extent this is a conscious development: organizations like the Proud Boys and the patriot militias look back to a time when their class defended a bourgeois order too “decadent and decayed”, to defend itself from the communist threat. Today, we do not see a fully developed fascist movement, just as we do not see a revolutionary workers’ movement, but both exist in embryonic form. The fascist organizations that do exist are fractious, tiny, and weak and they should not be conflated with the much larger, and less politically developed, right-wing populist movement that sees a democratic road to their objectives.

This is why it is a mistake to see Donald Trump and other far-right Republicans as “fascists.” They give cover to fascists, fascists are members of their coalition, but they are still happy to rely primarily on the owners of American capital, just as their supposed opponents, the Democrats, do. Trump was put in office by white, affluent, middle-class American homeowners voting for him, not by 200,000 armed militants marching on Washington DC. A political analysis that refuses to differentiate between those two things will lead to absurd and disastrous conclusions.

I have been involved in several attempts to form anti-fascist coalitions in my area and each has come to nothing as we were unable to agree, and barely even able to discuss, what the current threat of fascism consists of. There is a natural desire to unite in the face of our enemies, but political practices flow from political theory. If we do not carefully define “fascism” we cannot understand it, predict its development, and defeat it before it becomes the boot heel on our necks. If “fascism” is in power today, then the appropriate tactics are to organize workers’ militias and community self-defense organizations, bring together heavily armed and disciplined cadres, and directly assault fascists wherever we find them. If a real, fully developed, fascist movement is on the march, then socialists, communists, anarchists, and all other class-conscious workers are in a street war. This is objectively not the situation we face, but many dedicated anti-fascists act as if it is, and then express confusion and disdain when a different evaluation of contemporary fascism produces different tactics.

This is not to say that street mobilizations against fascists are unimportant. Public fascist organizing should be shut down, or at least meaningfully opposed, whenever possible. But even in these counter-demonstrations, our analysis of fascism is vital. Because the goal of these demonstrations is ultimately more propagandistic than combative, the opponent is “fascist ideas,” not “these particular fascists,” small bands of autonomous militants ready to punch some Nazis are far less valuable than masses of discipline demonstrators.

The real threat of fascism today—with the return of inter-imperial rivalries and the world economic situation continuing to teeter on the edge of a major collapse—is fascist ideas and organizations gaining a mass following. The threat is not that bands of reactionaries are off in the hills practicing marksmanship, but that the working class remains unprepared to act in its own interests. We lack mass workers’ parties, militant unions, or anything approaching mass revolutionary consciousness, and building those parties, those unions, and that consciousness is the best way to fight fascism today.

 

Alienation and Social Reproduction among the Subaltern

Christian Noakes argues that the theoretical work of Antonio Gramsci, put in historical context, can help us understand the issues of sectarianism among oppressed groups that pit the oppressed against one another and the need to move beyond such sectarianism for a project of universal human emancipation. 

Contrary to persistent accusations that Marx—and Marxism generally—reduced the world to economic systems, an understanding of ideology and its vital function in maintaining capitalism is key to a Marxist orientation to the struggle of working and oppressed people. Marx understood that ideology is absolutely essential to presenting capitalism as natural, ahistorical, or benevolent. Central to this ideological stability is alienation, which propagates false consciousness in large segments of the masses and, in so doing, enlists them into the process of social reproduction. False consciousness obscures relations of power, whereby the oppressed identify with their oppressors. In addition to promoting the shared identity of the dominant and subordinate in favor of the former, alienation and false consciousness serve to cover up the shared interests of subordinate or subaltern groups. Sectarianism among the subaltern stems from their alienation which is, in turn, intensified by sectarian divisions. Induced by alienation and false consciousness, the oppressed come to identify with their oppressors and in opposition to other subordinate groups, thereby encouraging their participation in processes of reproducing the conditions of oppression. A similar dynamic characterized the personal experiences of Antonio Gramsci, whose works on the North/South division in Italy remain some of the most insightful analyses of the division of urban and rural working class.

Internalization of ruling class identity and interests

Alienation obscures the conditions of oppression and the relation of segments of the subaltern to structures of power—most often along collective narratives of race or nationality. This social dynamic can be seen throughout the history of capitalism and colonialism at both national and international levels. Through what W.E.B. Du Bois refers to as the wages of whiteness, working-class whites in the U.S. identify with wealthy whites in order to elevate their social status.1 This largely illusory sense of power has led many impoverished whites to consent to a system which appears to make them benefactors but in reality, exploits them. The fact that racist sentiments are often most loudly pronounced by those with little or no social, political, or economic power should not be overlooked. As Sartre states,

the rich for the most part exploit this passion for their own uses rather than abandon themselves to it … It is propagated mainly among the middle classes because they possess neither land nor castle…By treating the Jew as an inferior and pernicious being, I affirm at the same time that I belong to the elite.2

Clinging to such prejudices gives the powerless a false sense of shared interest with the powerful. They, therefore, are all the more encouraged to reinforce the structures that afford them what is often only the illusion of benefit.

Similarly, Marx saw the division of and antagonism between English and Irish workers as playing a fundamental role in the former’s identification with the English ruling class and the maintenance of capitalist relations of production. For his perennial relevance on the matter Marx deserves to be quoted at length:

Every industrial and commercial center in England now possesses a working class divided into two hostile camps, English proletarians and Irish proletarians. The ordinary English worker hates the Irish worker as a competitor who lowers his standard of life. In relation to the Irish worker, he regards himself as a member of the ruling nation and consequently he becomes a tool of the English aristocrats and capitalists against Ireland, thus strengthening their domination over himself. He cherishes religious, social, and national prejudices against the Irish worker. His attitude towards him is much the same as that of the “poor whites” to the Negroes in the former slave states of the U.S.A.. … This antagonism is artificially kept alive and intensified by the press, the pulpit, the comic papers, in short, by all the means at the disposal of the ruling classes. This antagonism is the secret of the impotence of the English working class, despite its organization. It is the secret by which the capitalist class maintains its power. And the latter is quite aware of this.3

The above excerpt speaks to the need of the ruling class to create and intensify ethno-racial antagonism amongst the lower classes. English aristocrats and other ruling elites compromise the power of the subaltern masses by convincing the English or white workers that the Irish or non-white workers are the source of their problems rather than the ruling elite they are led to identify with. This antagonism is perpetuated by a capitalist superstructure which naturalizes the system of exploitation and diverts scorn back on segments of the working class.

On an international level, nationality also serves to disguise the power dynamics within nations and create a consensus for imperialist expansion. This can pacify and, when it is most successful, redirect the aggression of those afforded the least of a nation’s prosperity to an externalized other. With such cases, the collective sense of national identity can become all the more ideologically potent and thus essential to the cohesion and reproduction of both national and international systems of exploitation. This phenomenon occurred globally with the outbreak of World War I. The first decades of the 20th century were characterized by growing unrest and revolt to the increasingly inhumane system of international industrial capitalism. With the overthrow of the Russian czar, eventual Bolshevik Revolution, the establishment of worker’s soviets, and a global sense of unrest international socialist revolution seemed an all too possible threat to the capitalist order. The conception of shared national identities served to redirect tension away from the politicians and business tycoons and thus isolate the Soviet Revolution. Socialist organizing was dealt a severe blow in countries like the U.S. and Germany where a spirit of jingoism pervaded. The question of national identity and world war divided the ranks of many major socialist parties thereby interfering with international worker solidarity and recruiting some for the cause of kings, kaisers, and capitalists. Under the guise of patriotism and national interest, it also provided popular support for the coercion of those in opposition to the war and the imperialist system from which it grew.

These ideological distortions can and do go further than the minds of people that reside within an imperialist nation and those required to colonize or enforce imperialist order. The colonized often also show a similar tendency to identify with those that oppress and exploit them. Franz Fanon explores this sociopsychological trait in his Black Skin, White Masks. According to Fanon, “the Antillean does not see himself as Negro … Subjectively and intellectually the Antillean behaves like a white man. But in fact, he is a black man.”4 The colonized mind is inundated with hierarchical social categories with which to interpret and relate to society. They are directed to identify with oppressors because they are taught to think like and by colonizers. In being reduced to a passive receptacle for the knowledge of the oppressors. “the Antillean has the same collective unconsciousness as the European…Through his collective unconscious the Antillean has all the archetypes of the European.”5 As a result of internalizing the archetypes or principles of division of the colonizer, the colonial subject takes for granted the relations of power. The depositing of such social visions facilitates the formation of false consciousness in which the colonized see themselves as potentially sharing a common identity, position, or interest with the colonizer.

Misrecognition of subaltern struggles

In addition to obscuring the relations of the oppressed to the oppressor, alienation obscures the relationship of oppressed people to one another. This creates fragmented liberation movements that work at odds with one another in which adherents do not recognize the totality of exploitation that connects various forms of oppression. In taking the dominant categories of this division for granted, the subaltern comes to “utilize the same instrument of alienation in what they consider an effort to liberate … But one does not liberate men by alienating them.”6 Sectarianism, therefore, serves to reproduce rather than transform or topple structures of inequality and exploitation.

From the colonial era to the present day, much of the struggles of subordinate groups to attain rights have been fraught with sectarian and reactionary tendencies. This was particularly true of many suffragist organizations. In the first half of the 19th century, Thomas Dorr led a group of suffragists in Rhode Island. Initially, in support of extending the vote to the Black community, the Dorrites came to reject the cause of racial equality. Codified in their Convention of 1841, these suffragists saw the political enfranchisement of Black people as a threat to their own suffrage and politics more generally. Shortly after, the Dorrites attempted an abortive uprising against the small rural elite that controlled Rhode Island politics. This rebellion was put down, in part by the Black community that had supported the group prior to their rejection of Black suffrage.7

A similar sectarian tendency divided the cause of women’s suffrage in a way that reinforced class and racial inequality.8 Codified in the Seneca Falls Declaration, a dominant sect of suffragists rejected the struggles of both working-class white women and Black women. Rather than fighting for the rights of all women as an oppressed group, such movements were about asserting the dominance of wealthy white women. Likewise, many men in the abolitionist movement rejected the struggle of women and claimed such concerns would only interfere with the struggle for racial equality. Both tendencies promoted the reproduction of gender inequality. Whether dividing the subaltern along conceptions of ethnicity, gender, or another taken-for-granted principle of division “sectarianism in any quarter is an obstacle to emancipation.”9 People like Elizabeth Gurley Flynn and Claudia Jones were keenly aware that solidarity would be essential to adequately combat the larger system of exploitation and oppression that is the international capitalist order. Regardless of intent, turning the struggle for human liberation into unrelated or conflicting issues reinforces the conditions of oppression. Contemporary examples of this include bourgeois or liberal feminism which equates the representation of women within the current structures of power with equality. In the same vein as the wealthy white suffragist sect mentioned above, this corporate feminism rejects the class struggle and cynically pays lip service to demands of racial equality.

Unlike the above critique—to which alienation and false consciousness are central—pervasive and insidious liberal ideology encourages people to take social relations for granted. What is, in reality, a collective struggle grounded in material conditions of the oppressed is perverted into individual endeavors to simply perceive inequality—an idealist rather than materialist conception.10 As such, privilege is seen as central to maintaining social inequality and oppressive relations. Under this paradigm, it is the conscious desire to preserve privilege that reproduces inequality. However, there are fundamental problems with this line of reasoning. First, it is a tautological argument. Privilege is inequality experienced from the position of the dominant group. Therefore, such statements ultimately say that the desire to preserve inequality is what preserves (or reproduces) inequality. A second, more substantial critique of this individualistic understanding of power is that it reduces all social processes to the conscious decisions of agents. It, therefore, ignores the role of dominant ruling class ideology, structures of power, and their influence on agent dispositions and actions. The liberal narrative that puts privilege front and center do not consider how ideology informs people’s behavior and how it distorts conditions and relations oppression. It therefore also overlooks “the tendency of structures to reproduce themselves by producing agents endowed with the system of predispositions which is capable of engendering practices adapted to the structures and thereby contributing to the reproduction of the structures.”11

This line of reasoning is, in fact, a product of bourgeois ideology which corresponds to established relations of exploitation and oppression. In explaining inequality as a matter of well-informed agents, such critiques of power suggest oppression is a natural outcome of self-interest. This reduces social processes to composites of individual decisions and obscures the role division of the subaltern plays in maintaining hegemony.

Map showing GDP per capita in 2014 with basically four macro-regions – north-western, north-eastern, central and southern Italy

Antonio Gramsci and the North/South division in Italy

The distinction between reacting against oppression while adhering to the naturalized premises on which these structural relations are founded and outright rejection of the ruling class’ divisions of the oppressed is absolutely essential. Having experienced this social dynamic personally, Italian Communist Antonio Gramsci offers this vital lesson in both his works and life. Born in the small town of Ales on the remote island of Sardinia on 2 January 1891 Gramsci experienced the internal division within Italy’s subaltern masses and saw, over time, its function in maintaining hegemony. Located in the Mediterranean Sea between mainland Italy and North Africa, Sardinia’s history is characterized by extreme rural poverty and exploitation at the hands of mainland Italians in the North.

Despite his early interest in socialist thought, Gramsci’s initial intellectual character was shaped more by the exploitation of Sardinians at the hands of the Italian mainland and Sardinian nationalism created by mainland exploitation. In the mind of young Gramsci, the social relations of Italy could be summed up as the subjugation of the Mezzogiorno (the South) by the Settentrione (the North). At this time in his life, he was in favor of Sardinian independence rather than liberating all of Italy’s subordinate classes. Later, he would reflect on his incomplete consciousness: “I used to think…that the struggle for Sardinian national independence was a necessity. Continentals go home!—how many times have I myself repeated these words.”12 As a young Sardinian, Gramsci internalized the city/countryside division which he would later denounce.

Historically, the antagonism between Italy’s rural and urban populations served to divide the country into the rough dichotomy of North and South. This division required a mutual distrust or hatred between the urban and rural masses. In his Prison Notebooks, Gramsci reflects on the fact that in urban areas:

there exists, among all groups, an ideological unity against the countryside … there is hatred and scorn for the “peasant,” an implicit common front against the demands of the countryside … Reciprocally, there exists an aversion—which, if “generic,” is not thereby any less tenacious or passionate—of the country for the city, for the whole city and all the groups which make it up.13

Prior to his experiences as a student, activist, and journalist in Turin Gramsci certainly did share this aversion for the urban population and the mainland in general which he saw as comprising a single class of oppressors. At this time, he was attached to only one side of the national system of domination and exploitation. Nonetheless, the subjugation and struggle of the Sardinian workers served to initiate Gramsci’s unwavering partisan stance, which he would keep for the rest of his life. In 1904, the island’s salt miners went on strike in to demand an end to the brutal working conditions they had to face in the mines. On September 4 an altercation broke out between the miners and mainland troops in which the troops killed three people and wounded eleven more.14 Two years following this incident a wave of protest swept over the island and it too was put down by mainland troops.

Events like this fueled hatred for all northerners in the minds of Gramsci and his fellow Sardinians—a hatred that was returned by most northern Italians. Such mutual hostility among subordinated or subaltern classes was a socio-historical construction introduced by the dominant urban and rural classes which served to maintain hegemony via consent of the divided masses. While Gramsci would later overcome such convictions, his early experiences and beliefs—centered largely on Sardinian nationalism—would set him apart from his mainland counterparts due in part to the fact that he had intimate contact with the problems peasants had to face.  In fact, many people in the Italian Socialist Party (PSI) accepted that the southern peasants were inferior to varying degrees and therefore did not wish to align the city and countryside. Even Antonio Labriola, who had a significant influence on Gramsci’s own understanding of Marxism, saw rural Italians as a backward and burdensome class. Northern proletarians and even Marxists often looked down on southern peasants in much the same way the white and English working classes looked down on black and Irish workers in places like the US and England.

The oppressed masses of both urban and rural Italy internalized the “common sense” (taken for granted assumptions/views) that was introduced by Italy’s dominant rural and industrial classes so as to maintain their position. This division serves to weaken and disorganize the subordinate masses by obscuring the group’s interests and who it perceives as its enemy. In Sardinia, this often took the form of brigandage—a form of dissent that Gramsci (and other Sardinians) romanticized for a time as a child. It was only after his experiences in the industrial city of Turin that he began to see these acts as futile and misguided due to “common sense” of the North/South dichotomy.

Gramsci abandoned his Sardinian nationalism upon seeing how it was mobilized as a way to repress workers strikes in Turin, 1917.

From Sardinia to the Mainland 

Gramsci left Sardinia in 1911 to study at the University of Turin before devoting himself entirely to the cause of the Italian working class first as a journalist then as an organizer, politician, and leader/co-founder of the Italian Communist Party (PCI). Fundamental to Gramsci’s development from a Sardinian nationalist to a key proponent for a revolutionary worker/peasant (North/South) alliance was the military repression of Turin auto-workers in 1917 a part of which was the Sassari brigade from Sardinia.15 This situation illustrated the complexity of mutual aversion and domination. Just as mainland troops repressed Sardinian peasants demanding better working conditions in the salt mines, now Sardinians were contributing to the repression of northern proletariats. He could no longer claim Sardinians were merely victims of the North’s draconian rule as he had once done and as a Sardinian soldier expressed to Gramsci during the two Sardinians’ interaction:

Soldier: We are here to shoot those lords [signori] who are on strike.

Gramsci: But it is not the “lords” who are on strike; it is the workers and they are poor.

Soldier: Here everybody is a lord. They all have a coat and tie…16

Gramsci thus came face to face with the perception of his childhood during which he was able to see how it did not reflect the actual complexity of Italian class relations. He came face to face with the division of the subaltern against itself. According to the Sardinian historian Giuseppe Fiori, Gramsci “began to see clearly that the real oppressors of the southern peasants …were not the workers and industrialists of the North, but a combination of the industrialists and the indigenous Sardinian or southern ruling class as a whole.”17 Seeing Sardinian troops in the same position as mainland troops in Sardinia, Gramsci realized that the North/South relationship was much more complex than the popular Manichean dichotomy could account for. Both the peasants of the South and the northern proletariat were subject to harsh repression in order to maintain hegemony throughout Italy. In addition, both subaltern classes may at times be used to repress one another whenever one does not consent to the hegemonic powers—thus making the mutual hatred between them essential for the dominant class. For Gramsci, this hatred or distrust is cultivated by misrepresentation or misrecognition in which the one subaltern group believes another to be dominant or an impediment on their liberation. Historically this has meant peasants viewed proletarians as “lords” while the proletariat viewed peasants as remnants of a feudal past that served as a backward and inferior “ball and chain” holding northern Italians back from true progress.18 Both subaltern classes wrongly blamed one another for their position in society rather than the ruling elite that introduced and exploited the division of city and countryside.

Prior to such experiences, Gramsci blamed all of the North (including the workers) for the subjugation of the Mezzogiorno. He came to realize that peasants needed the urban working class to claim the land and the urban workers needed the peasants to overthrow capitalism. As such, he rejected the alliance between landowners looking to avoid mainland taxes and the mass of oppressed peasants in which the latter wrongly believed in the benevolence of the former due to a shared identity that did not consider uneven power dynamics. This common relationship perpetuated the social, political, and economic oppression by landowners. The proletariat of the North could not liberate itself in isolation from the rest of the subaltern masses largely because all those groups not aligned with could serve either as replacement labor or potential soldiers to be used by the hegemonic power to reassert itself. The same could also be said of southern Italians/peasants who looked to revolt against their subjugation. Divided, Italy’s subaltern masses were too weak and disorganized—and in some cases, they could even be a threat to one another. It is these acts of coercion of one subaltern class by the other that serves to intensify the antagonism between city and countryside—an antagonism necessary to divide and rule both the proletarians and the peasants. Therefore, a national-popular movement—defined as a moment in which a class can become “hegemonic at a national level by drawing subaltern social groups into an alliance.”19 This was necessary for the overthrow the alliance between capitalism and the remnants of feudalism (i.e. southern landowners) in Italy. This mutual dependence necessitates breaking down the divisions of the subaltern.

Conclusion

Alienation provides stability to an otherwise volatile system of exploitation by enlisting the oppressed in processes of social reproduction. Jingoism, nativism, white supremacy, regionalism, and the colonized mind that stems from alienation and subsequent false consciousness all function to mislead the subaltern masses to identify with the powerful. Alienation also propagates sectarianism among the oppressed. Such antagonisms, while occurring between people claiming to be liberators, maintain structures of oppression by taking for granted the divisions with which the dominant manage those beneath them. Sectarians maintain the categories and subsequent relations of the oppressor among the oppressed. This hostility encourages the subaltern masses to divide and oppress themselves. The consent of alienated segments of the subaltern masses gives the ruling class the ideological power necessary to coerce other segments. By addressing the false consciousness that bourgeois ideology propagates the underlying material conditions can be transformed. While reproducing relations of exploitation rests on alienation and division, socialist transformation of society must rely on solidarity as the basis for all liberation. This requires working patiently yet diligently with the subaltern masses to promote a revolutionary class consciousness which pits them against the ruling class rather than against one another.


Work Cited

Bourdieu, Pierre 1974, “Cultural Reproduction and Social Reproduction” in Knowledge, Education, and Cultural Change: Papers in the Sociology Of Education. Edited by Richard Brown. London: Tavistock Publications.

Davis, Angela 1981, Women, Race, and Class. New York: Vintage Books.

Du Bois, W.E.B. 1935, Black Reconstruction: An Essay Toward the History of the Part Which Black Folk Played in the Attempt to Reconstruct Democracy in America, 1860-1880. New York: Harcourt Brace & Company.

Fanon, Frantz 1952, Black Skin, White Masks. New York: Grove Press.

Fiori, Giuseppe 1971, Antonio Gramsci: Life of a Revolutionary. New York: Dutton.

Freire, Paulo 1972, Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Herder and Herder.

Gramsci, Antonio 1972, Selections from the Prison Notebooks of Antonio Gramsci. New York: International Publishers.

Gramsci, Antonio 1988, An Antonio Gramsci Reader: Selected Writings,  1916-1935. New York: Shocken Books.

Gramsci, Antonio 1994, Pre-Prison Writings. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press.

Marx, Karl 1870, Letter to Sigfrid Meyer and August Vogt

Roediger, David R. 1999 [1991], The Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the American Working Class. New York: Verso.

Santucci, Antonio A. 2010, Antonio Gramsci. New York: Monthly Review Press.