Create a Mass Party!

Cliff Connolly critiques CounterPower’s vision of the “party of autonomy” and offers an alternative vision of the mass party. 

In Praise of Communism by Ronald Paris, sourced from here.

The US left is at a critical juncture where the structure and focus of our organizations will soon be decided. On the one hand, we positively have ongoing processes of cohesion in play with DSA chapters collaborating on writing a national platform and far-flung sects coming together under the banner of Marxist Center. On the other hand, we have many comrades across ideological lines who still echo opposition to the idea of a tightly structured national organization. Central to this contradiction is the question of the party: should socialists strive to build an independent political party, and if so, what should that look like? CounterPower has put forth one possible answer in their article Create Two, Three, Many Parties of Autonomy! They are dedicated organizers and we should all be glad to have them in our midst. However, their strategy of eschewing the mass party model and encouraging the spontaneous formation of multiple “parties of autonomy”, and counting on these disparate groups to unite into an “area of the party”, is unworkable in the long term.

Their argument for the many parties strategy rests on a number of errorshistorical misrepresentation (no, CPUSA was not a party of autonomy), uncritical acceptance of failed models (Autonomia Operaia gives us more negative lessons than positive ones), an over-reliance on spontaneity (movements have to be built intentionally), an aversion to leadership (no, it doesn’t automatically create unaccountable bureaucracy), and a confusion of terms (putting anarchist and Marxist vocab words together does not solve the contradictions between them). We will explore each of these points in greater detail. There is also an implicit assumption of false dichotomies built into the many parties lineeither we build parties of autonomy or slip into sectarianism, either parties of autonomy or dogmatism, either parties of autonomy or top-down bureaucracy. There is a kernel of truth present here; we certainly don’t want a dictatorship of paid staffers. However, parties of autonomy are not a solution to this problem in some ways, they would exacerbate the problem.

This was initially written in response to CounterPower’s original essay in 2019, but has since been amended to include dialogue with the updated version published in 2020. The differences between the two are significant and raise new concerns about the many parties model. The most interesting addition in the update concerns the role of cadre highly trained organizers dedicated full-time to party activity. While we agree wholeheartedly on the necessity of these professional revolutionaries, there is a difference of emphasis that merits debate. This issue will be explored in greater detail below.

That CounterPower started this conversation on the party question is a gift to the whole of the US leftit must be addressed for our organizations to move forward. While many of us vehemently disagree with their conclusions, we should be grateful for their company. After examining each piece of their argument for the many parties model and taking note of its shortcomings, we will investigate a viable alternativea mass party of organizers built on the principles of struggle, pluralism, and democratic discipline. 

Historical Clarification

There are a number of historical errors throughout CounterPower’s article. By this we are not referring to a difference of opinion about a certain historical figure’s thought process or the motivations behind a particular decision, but rather factual inaccuracies. This in itself does not mean the thesis of the article is automatically false, but it does betray a dependency on unfounded assumptions. First, there is the assertion that the Russian soviets arose organically without being built by socialists, at which point the Bolsheviks joined them and worked harmoniously with other autonomous parties in this “area of the party” to link the soviets to other sites of struggle. Second, there is the quotation from Mao Zedong’s 1957 Hundred Flowers speech, which CounterPower uses to bolster their argument for parties of autonomy. Finally, we are led to believe that both the FAI and the Alabama chapter of the Communist Party USA are exemplars of the many parties model. 

We will begin with the relationship between the Bolsheviks and the soviets. Here is CounterPower’s characterization:

“The organized interventions of a revolutionary party thus take place ‘in the middle,’ as mediations between the micropolitical and macropolitical. This has been a distinguishing feature of successful revolutionary parties, as in the example of the Russian Revolution of 1917, when clusters of Bolshevik party activists concentrated in workplaces, recognizing that the participatory councils (soviets) emerging from grassroots proletarian struggles embodied the nucleus of an alternative social system. Thus the party’s organization at the point of production enabled revolutionaries first to link workplace struggles against exploitation with the struggle against imperialism, and then to link the emergent councils with the insurrectionary struggle to establish a system of territorial counterpower”.

On the contrary, it is of utmost importance to recognize that the soviets, factory committees, and militias that formed the backbone of the Russian revolution were built intentionally by socialists. While different factions in the Russian Social Democratic Workers’ Party eventually split into separate organizations as the Bolsheviks and Mensheviks, both groups were instrumental in the creation of these mass organizations. They did not emerge organically from economic struggles with bosses and feudal landlords like some of the trade unions and peasant associations, but instead were the product of a socialist intervention in economic struggles which emphasized the need for political organization. This strategy, commonly referred to as the “merger formula”, was theorized by Marx and Engels, popularized by the German socialist party leader Karl Kautsky, and accepted by Russian socialists of all stripes (most notably Lenin).1

The Bolsheviks did not merely help workers build their fighting organizations. They also competed with political rivals for leadership in them. Beyond their efforts that we would call “base-building” today, the Bolsheviks also invested significant resources into propaganda efforts and electoral contests. The struggle for elected majorities in the soviets in 1917 was pursued in tandem with a strategy of running campaigns for municipal offices and the Constituent Assembly (the bourgeois parliament of the Provisional Government), and it worked. The Bolshevik candidates for the assembly were able to publicly oppose the policies of the Provisional Government, while the elected deputies in the soviets were able to win over the working class to the task of seizing political power. These electoral efforts were instrumental in establishing a democratic mandate for the October Revolution.2 Consider these words from leading Bolshevik (and later leading opposition member purged by Stalin) Alexander Shliapnikov, in 1920:

The Russian Communist Party (RKP), as the history of the preceding years indicates, is the only revolutionary party of the Working Class, leading class war and civil war in the name of Communism. The R.K.P. unifying the more conscious and decisive part of the Proletariat around the Revolutionary Communist Program of action and drawing to the Communist banner the more leading elements of the rural poor, must concentrate all higher leadership of communist construction and the general direction of policy of the country.

Clearly, the Bolsheviks did not consider themselves a “party of autonomy” working side by side with the Menshevik reformists in a broad “area of the party”. Nor did they simply fuse with organic economic struggles in the trade unions. The reality couldn’t be further from CounterPower’s insinuations: the Bolsheviks were a party of political organizers who started as a minority and slowly won over sections of the working class through diligent mass work and bitter struggle with the other parties of the day. By engaging in this process, they eventually took on a mass character and became capable of leading social revolution. The lesson to learn from the Bolsheviks is this: we must win political hegemony in whatever independent organs of proletarian power that we help build, using every available means, including running opposition candidates in bourgeois elections to expose broader sections of the class to our ideas.

Now we will consider Mao’s echoing of the old Chinese proverb “Let a hundred flowers blossom, let a hundred schools of thought contend.” This line of poetry is used by CounterPower to demonstrate the need for dozens of independent communist grouplets to form and collaborate on the task of social revolution. They attribute the quote to Mao, but is this how he used it? The short answer is no. It comes from a speech he gave in March 1957 at the Chinese Communist Party’s National Conference on Propaganda Work. It is true that he called for a hundred schools of thought to contend, but this was in the context of winning unaligned intellectuals over to the party’s socialist ideals. He gave a thoughtful and nuanced analysis of how the party could accept criticism from the broader population without sacrificing their legitimacy as the ruling organization of the country:

Ours is a great Party, a glorious Party, a correct Party. This must be affirmed as a fact. But we still have shortcomings, and this, too, must be affirmed as a fact…Will it undermine our Party’s prestige if we criticize our own subjectivism, bureaucracy and sectarianism? I think not. On the contrary, it will serve to enhance the Party’s prestige. This was borne out by the rectification movement during the anti-Japanese war. It enhanced the prestige of our Party, of our Party comrades and our veteran cadres, and it also enabled the new cadres to make great progress. Which of the two was afraid of criticism, the Communist Party or the Kuomintang? The Kuomintang. It prohibited criticism, but that did not save it from final defeat. The Communist Party does not fear criticism because we are Marxists, the truth is on our side, and the basic masses, the workers and peasants, are on our side.

Clearly, in March 1957 Mao was concerned with building a mass party, not opening space for a loose collaboration between multiple parties aimed at building socialism. Unfortunately, the Chinese Communist Party was underprepared for the criticism they would soon face and reversed the Hundred Flowers Campaign. By July of that same year, the Anti-Rightist Campaign brought a series of purges underway, which got so out of control that Mao had to restrain his subordinates from excess killing. Perhaps Chinese conditions in 1957 were different enough from American conditions in 2020 that this was acceptable, or perhaps Mao the statesman should not be looked to for inspiration as much as Mao the general or Mao the revolutionary. It is beyond the purview of this article to answer that question. What is certain CounterPower draws the wrong lesson out of Mao’s 1957 speech.

Demonstration from the Hundred Flowers Movement

After quoting Mao, CounterPower moves on to claim that the Iberian Anarchist Federation (FAI) is in practice a party of autonomy working within the “area of the party” of Spain’s National Confederation of Labour (CNT). Although the idea of “parties of autonomy” was not formulated until forty years after FAI’s founding, there may be a kernel of truth to this claim. For example, if FAI formed a loose coalition with CNT organizers and worked with them on shared projects, this argument could make sense. The reality, however, is that FAI is essentially a hard-line anarchist faction within CNT that has consistently fought for political hegemony within the broader organization and even purged ideological rivals like Ángel Pestaña. Perhaps they were right to do so; it is outside the scope of this article to pass judgment on the internal political conflicts of the CNT. 

Despite CounterPower’s framing of the FAI as an independent anarcho-communist organization with an “organic link” to the CNT, they are an explicitly anarchist faction struggling to dominate the politics of the Spanish labor movement. They act as a pressure group within the confederation to make CNT adhere to what they perceive as purely anarchist theory and praxis without deviation. This is not a “symbiotic relationship”, it is realpolitik under a black flag. Roberto Bordiga’s window dressing cannot give us a clear understanding of Spanish labor politics; historians like José Peirats and Paul Preston would be better suited to aid this investigation. 

In the updated version of their essay, CounterPower cites the Alabama chapter of CPUSA as a historical example that serves to “elucidate the role and function of a party of autonomy”. This could not be further from the truth. Similar to the FAI, the party of autonomy model would not even be theorized until fifty years after the Alabama chapter’s founding. CPUSA was a mass party with local chapters all over the country for at least the first half of the twentieth century. The Alabama chapter in particular was the result of discussions on “the Negro question” at the Sixth World Congress of the Communist International, after which the Central Committee of CPUSA chose Birmingham as a headquarters for its foothold in the South.3 Its success in organizing rural and urban communities in the deep south of the 1920s is proof that the mass party model can be adapted to regional conditions and accountable to local rank and file members. Describing this centralized party model as a “party of autonomy” is categorically false.

Spontaneity vs. Base-Building

Now that the historical context of CounterPower’s narrative has been clarified, we should examine the contradiction between their ideological commitment to spontaneity theory on the one hand, and their practical commitment to base-building on the other. Does the working class organically form explicitly political fighting organizations, or is a socialist intervention required for this to occur? This is a never-ending debate between Marxists and anarchists, despite the pile of evidence pointing to the latter. Some would argue that this debate is pointless at the present moment, and these differences are best put aside until the workers’ movement has grown. We would reply: “First, comradely debate in no way hampers unity of action. We can continue base-building efforts while disagreeing on political questions, and it is only through debate that we might one day get on the same page. Second, simply by engaging in the act of base-building with us, you are agreeing with our point in practice while denying it in theory.” How is this possible?

Our comrades in CounterPower are the perfect example. They admit the masses will not come to accept communist ideas on their own:

From strike committees to workers’ councils, tenant unions to neighborhood assemblies, the disparate forms of organized autonomy that arise in the midst of a protracted revolutionary struggle will not automatically fuse with communist politics to create a cohesive system of counterpower.

Yet they don’t address where these councils and unions come from. The reader gets the sense that these organizations simply pop up during times of crisis, as workers get frustrated with bourgeois politics and independently come to the conclusion that they need to organize against their boss or landlord. This may be true in a minority of cases, but most proletarian fighting organizations come from the same source as the Russian soviets: dedicated socialist base-builders. Who built Amazonians United? Who built Autonomous Tenant Union Network? Who built UE, ILWU, and the original CIO? In every case, the answer is: workers and intellectuals who read Marx, became socialists, and decided to organize.

Our responsibilities go beyond just founding these mass organizations; we have to compete for hegemony within them as well. If we neglect this crucial aspect of organizing due to a fetishization of the autonomy of the masses, reformists and even reactionaries will gladly fill the gap. In the case of something like workers’ councils, we cannot have any illusions that they provide anything beyond a means of representation for political tendencies within the movement. This is precisely why the Bolsheviks competed so vigorously with the reformist Mensheviks and populist Social Revolutionaries for elected majorities in the soviets. In fact, the Bolsheviks only adopted their famous slogan “All Power to the Soviets” after they had secured elected majorities in them.4 We only need to look at the difference between the Soviet Republics established in Russia and the brutally crushed Soviet Republic of Bavaria to understand the limitations of the model. Without influence from committed revolutionaries, mass organizations can be rallied to the banner of class-collaboration (as the Russian soviets were before Bolshevik intervention) or adventurism (as in the case of Bavaria).5

CounterPower’s overestimation of proletarian spontaneity has practical consequences for its members. In his recent article In Defense of Revolution and the Insurrectionary Commune, Atlee McFellin analyzed the November 2020 election and drew parallels between it and the situation which produced the Paris Commune. Fearing that elections may never take place again, McFellin argued against any participation in electoral efforts (including, but not limited to the creation of a political party independent from the Democrats). What was proposed instead? “Self-defense forces, solidarity kitchens, and everything else that is required to repel fascist assaults”. In other words, anything but a class-independent party capable of coordinating the struggle for socialism across different political, economic, and social fronts. Rather than face the reality of the radical left’s current irrelevance in national politics and the labor movement, and chart a course to resolve this, comrade McFellin called for the construction of insurrectionary communes as a response to the consolidation of ruling class interests under Joe Biden. Whether the working class has the spontaneous energy necessary for this task remains to be seen;  if it does, we would be ill-advised to hold our breath in anticipation but should wince at the inevitable brutal consequences if such adventurism bears fruit.

While in theory, CounterPower glosses over the role of communists in building workers’ organizations, in practice they are engaged in precisely this work. Rather than relying on the spontaneous initiative of the masses, they actively build tenant and labor unions, political education circles, and other necessary vehicles of class struggle. In fact, they do it remarkably well. This is what makes the claim that communists must “fuse with grassroots organizations” after they appear rather than actively building them in the first place so bizarre. Ultimately, our task as communists is to build mass organizations of class struggle, and then rally the most active participants within them to a mass communist party. By uniting in one party, we can direct the efforts of thousands of organizers according to a commonly agreed upon plan, which is an absolute necessity for the workers’ movement to grow. 

The Role of Cadre

The discussion of cadre organizers is given new attention in CounterPower’s update to their original essay. It mostly focuses on the role these committed party members play in shaping revolutionary strategy and connecting it to active proletarian struggles. As seen in my Cosmonaut article Revolutionary Discipline and Sobriety, those of us who favor the mass party model are in complete agreement with CounterPower on the importance of cadre:

Any collective project, whether a revolutionary labor union or a church’s food pantry, will expect a higher degree of involvement from its core organizers than from its regular members. Not everyone has the time or the technical skills needed to bottom-line such endeavors, and those who do have a responsibility to step up to the plate. These small groups, or cadre, are the powerhouse of the class. Taking direction from the masses they live and labor with, cadre members should focus their lives on facilitating the self-emancipation of the proletariat.

CounterPower rightly points out that these dedicated full-timers are a prerequisite for the development of robust internal political education, external agitation, and consistent recruitment to mass work projects. Key to the every-day functioning of these cadre groups is the organizational center to which they are accountable (and preferably subject to democratic discipline by the whole membership of the organization). While the mass party shares the party of autonomy’s commitment to a common political platform and program, the main difference between the two models is one of scope. Whereas the “area of the party” is composed of diffuse autonomous organizations with separate and often contradictory programs, the local chapters of the mass party work together on a common, democratically agreed-upon plan. As the experience of the Alabama chapter of CPUSA shows, this does not mean the plan cannot be adapted to meet local concerns. 

CPUSA demo in the south

In fact, the mass party model historically proves more capable of achieving its aims than any other method of party organization, whether it is compared to the bourgeois fund-raising parties that dominate US politics or the Italian autonomist model revived by CounterPower. This will be elaborated below in our examination of the Autonomia Operaia movement. For now, suffice it to say that while we agree with our autonomist comrades on the importance of cadre, the mass party model is best suited to coordinate their efforts.

Precision of Terms

Further complicating the problems of CounterPower’s revolutionary strategy is an incoherent collection of opaque and often contradictory terms. Few throughout history have tried to synthesize the theories of the Bolsheviks, Rosa Luxemburg, Bordiga, and Malatesta, mostly because it makes no sense to do so. This blend of anarchist shibboleths (affinity groups, autonomy fetishism, Bookchin references) and communist vocabulary (party cadre, collective discipline, professional revolutionaries) is neither an oversight nor the product of genuine cross-ideological left unity. CounterPower is a Marxist organization with a niche ideology informed mainly by the experience of the Italian Autonomia Operaia movement. The fact that they mask this behind an appeal to every possible leftist tendency is frankly dishonest, and makes their writing difficult to follow. Since all these ideas have been presented to us as complementary and harmonious, we must investigate the contradictions between them in order to get a clearer picture. 

First, we should consider their framing of the ideas of Luxemburg:

In contrast to a bourgeois party, Rosa Luxemburg identified that a revolutionary party of autonomy ‘is not a party that wants to rise to power over the mass of workers or through them.’ Rather, it ‘is only the most conscious, purposeful part of the proletariat, which points the entire broad mass of the working class toward its historical tasks at every step”

The primary issue with this framing is that Rosa Luxemburg did not write or speak about “a revolutionary party of autonomy” at any point in her political career. She was a member of the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD) for most of her life before its left-wing split into the USPD and then Spartacist League (later renamed the Communist Party of Germany, or KPD). Both organizations were mass parties who explicitly intended to lead the working class to overthrow the existing political order and form a new proletarian government in Germany, headed by elected party officials. Her point about the party being an instrument that puts the working class in power was perfectly in line with the existing Marxist orthodoxy. Consider this quote from the SPD’s leading theorist Karl Kautsky for comparison:

The socialists no longer have the task of freely inventing a new society but rather uncovering its elements in existing society. No more do they have to bring salvation from its misery to the proletariat from above, but rather they have to support its class struggle through increasing its insight and promoting its economic and political organizations and in so doing bring about as quickly as possible the day when the proletariat will be able to save itself. The task of Social Democracy is to make the class struggle of the proletariat aware of its aim and capable of choosing the best means to attain this aim.6

Luxemburg and Kautsky both demonstrate the function of the mass party: cohering the most militant and forward-thinking section of the working class into one organization and giving it the tools to win political power. If the party is not “outside or above the revolutionary process”, as CounterPower puts it, then it is coming to power through class leadership. “Providing the boldest elements in decision-making organs” is just a milder way of phrasing “winning political hegemony in the movement.” While it is right to be skeptical of potential opportunists and wary of inadvertently creating an unaccountable bureaucracy, CounterPower overcorrects by trying to avoid the question of leadership altogether. No amount of out-of-context quotes from historical revolutionaries can paper over that deficiency. 

After painting an anarchist portrait of Rosa Luxemburg, CounterPower then calls upon the theoretical authority of actual anarchist Errico Malatesta:

We anarchists can all say that we are of the same party, if by the word ‘party’ we mean all who are on the same side, that is, who share the same general aspirations and who, in one way or another, struggle for the same ends against common adversaries and enemies. But this does not mean it is possibleor even desirablefor all of us to be gathered into one specific association. There are too many differences of environment and conditions of struggle; too many possible ways of action to choose among, and also too many differences of temperament and personal incompatibilities for a General Union, if taken seriously, not to become, instead of a means for coordinating and reviewing the efforts of all, an obstacle to individual activity and perhaps also a cause of more bitter internal strife.7

This is a markedly different approach to organization from the mass party model of Kautsky, Luxemburg, Lenin, et al. It is certainly more in line with the autonomists’ “area of the party” theory, but are the assumptions it is based on sound? The experience of the Bolshevik party securing state power and defending the proletariat from white terror, the Communist Party of Vietnam’s triumph over colonialism, the continued resistance to neoliberal imperialism in Cuba, and other achievements of the mass party model seem to indicate otherwise. Petty personal disputes and geographic distance are no excuse to abandon unified efforts to build socialism. If we take a scientific approach and compare the results of party-building trials throughout history to the results of those like Malatesta who deny the party’s role, the pattern is self-evident. 

Lessons of History

CounterPower’s essay does an excellent job of considering the experiences of a vast number of different historical communist groups. Unfortunately, they do so without an ounce of reflection or criticism. They ask us to look at rival groups with opposing political strategies and conclude that both were right, regardless of whether either group actually achieved its aims. They mention the experience of many parties and movementsthe KAPD in Germany, Autonomia Operaia in Italy, the MIR in Chile, the FMLN-FDR in El Salvador, the URNG in Guatemala, the HBDH in Turkey and Kurdistan, and more. We’re given the impression that each of these groups consciously agreed with the autonomists’ many parties model, and that each of these groups were successful enough to teach us mainly positive lessons to emulate. Upon closer inspection, it turns out this is not at all the case. For the sake of brevity, we will look at three examples.

Let us begin with the Communist Workers’ Party of Germany (KAPD). This party could be accurately described as a sect based on its low membership, extreme sectarianism, and history of splits. Its complicated lineage is as followsits members began in the SPD, then split into the ISD, which then joined the USPD, which then split into the KPD, and then finally split from there into the left-communist KAPD. It functionally existed for about two years before splitting again into separate factions. It was quite literally a split of a split of a split that ended up splitting. It had around 43,000 members at its height in 1921, which was minuscule compared to the hundreds of thousands of workers in the mass parties (and that number immediately declined after the factional split in 1922). 

The roots of the KAPD’s separation from the KPD lie in the events of the Ruhr Uprising. In 1920, a right-wing coalition of military officers and monarchists attempted to overthrow the bourgeois-democratic government of Germany. In response, the government called for a general strike, which the workers’ parties heeded. In the Ruhr valley, these parties took the strike a step further by forming Red Army units and engaging right-wing forces in open combat. However, these socialist militias were divided between three different parties and could not coordinate their efforts as well as their enemies who had the benefit of a clear leadership structure. The uprising was ultimately crushed when the bourgeois government made a deal with the right-wing putsch leaders and sent their forces to slaughter the workers of the Ruhr. 

What lessons did the left-communists learn from this? From their perspective, KPD leaders had given up on the struggle by agreeing to disband Red Army units after the fighting looked to be in the enemy’s favor. Because of this, a split was necessary so the workers could be led by the true communist militants that would see things through to the end. In other words, the already divided proletariat needed a fourth party to further complicate the coordination of future actions. Two years later, this fourth party would then split into two factions. Lenin had this to say about the KAPD:

Let the ‘Lefts’ put themselves to a practical test on a national and international scale. Let them try to prepare for (and then implement) the dictatorship of the proletariat, without a rigorously centralised party with iron discipline, without the ability to become masters of every sphere, every branch, and every variety of political and cultural work. Practical experience will soon teach them.8

Unfortunately, Lenin was overly optimistic. Rather than having time to learn from their mistakes, the divided forces of the working class were brutally crushed by the united forces of the right. The Nazis rose to power, and fascism reigned until the Soviets took Berlin in 1945. This does not mean there is nothing we can learn from the KAPDquite the opposite is true. There may be some diamonds in the rough, but most of the lessons we can learn from the left-communists of Germany are examples of what not to do. Fortunately, in the updated version of their essay, CounterPower scrubbed any mention of the KAPD. Whether this was due to a genuine reassessment of their example or simple editorial limitations, the new version is much stronger without the ill-fated German sectarians. 

Despite their positive appraisal of the KAPD, CounterPower is not a left-communist sect. They are autonomists, and in order to understand their answer to the party question we must take stock of their movement forebears. Autonomia Operaia was a workers’ movement in Italy during the period known as the “Years of Lead”. This period lasted from the late 1960s to the late 1980s, and was marked by violent clashes between right and left-wing paramilitary forces. It is worth noting that much of this violence was either planned, supplied, or encouraged by the CIA and its “Operation Gladio”, although that is not relevant to our discussion here. Autonomia Operaia was mainly active from ‘76 to ‘78, and was made up of many smaller socialist groups including Potere Operaio, Gruppo Gramsci, and Lotta Continua. Each group was strongly opposed to unifying into one party, preferring instead to maintain their autonomy and pursue different tactics to work towards their shared goal of social revolution. 

Autonomia Operaia demo

In the end, this worked out in much the same way as it did for the sectarians in Germany decades earlier. Thousands of militants were arrested, hundreds fled the country, many were killed, and most of those who remained dissolved into terrorist groups like the Red Brigades and parliamentary parties like Democrazia Proletaria. Neither the autonomist terrorists nor the autonomist politicians were able to move beyond the failures of the earlier autonomist movement. In retrospect, the autonomists ended up replicating the sect form (albeit with some anarchist-influenced language) and suffered the familiar consequences of this organizing technique. It is worth noting that after misappropriating numerous mass parties (the Alabama chapter of CPUSA, the Bolsheviks, Rosa Luxemburg’s KPD) as successful examples of the “parties of autonomy” model, CounterPower leaves out any mention of Autonomia Operaia in the updated version of its essay. This is somewhat understandable as the movement collapsed within two years and failed to achieve its aims, but it is still dishonest. If failures are glossed over rather than rigorously examined, we are doomed to walk blindly into past mistakes. In this regard, CounterPower’s update to their essay does more to obfuscate the party question than answer it.

That said, Autonomia Operaia activists had valid criticisms of the Communist Party of Italy and could have created an alternative to lead the proletariat to victory. This is the positive lesson we can learn from them: when the “official” communist party of the nation abandons its principles, it can sometimes be worthwhile to build an alternative organization. However, they chose instead to create a loose collective of semi-aligned communist clusters which failed to coordinate their actions and create meaningful change. Had they taken on the arduous task of debating long-term strategy and forging programmatic unity, things may have turned out differently. This is the primary lesson we should learn from the Italian autonomists: a proletarian victory requires structure, democratic discipline, and unity of action. 

Although not directly influenced by Autonomia’s answer to the party question, the FMLN-FDR of El Salvador could be theorized as an example of an “area of the party”. As CounterPower pointed out in their essay, this network was composed of five revolutionary parties and a number of mass organizations and civil society institutions who worked together in loose cooperation towards revolution. It ultimately failed, and CounterPower makes two interesting claims about its dissolution: that the failure was due primarily to the popular front reformism of the PCS (one of the five member parties) and that its downfall does not tarnish its status as a positive example of the area of the party in action. These claims do not fare well under the spotlight of historical scrutiny, particularly when shined on the brutal internecine violence that destroyed any semblance of unity within the movement by 1983. 

CounterPower’s assessment of the FMLN identifies the PCS (Communist Party of El Salvador) as the weakest link in the chain, and the FPL (Farabundo Martí Liberation People’s Forces) as the strongest. In many ways, this is true, as the popular front strategy of the official communist parties has consistently ended in disaster the world over and the FPL was the most powerful and trusted party in El Salvador for a time. However, this is not the whole picture. Genuine political disagreements were often buried or papered over to maintain an artificial unity, and the ensuing tension was bound to boil over. While our autonomist comrades say the FMLN established a harmonious “mechanism of communication, coordination, and cooperation among the various politico-military organizations”, the reality is far grimmer. In its disagreement with other parties advocating negotiations with the Salvadoran government, the FPL resorted to gruesome assassinations to enforce its will on the rest of the FMLN. In April of 1983, FPL cadre Rogelio Bazzaglia murdered pro-negotiation leader Ana Maria with an ice pick, stabbing her 83 times. Although there was an attempt to blame the CIA or another party within FMLN, when presented concrete evidence of Bazzaglia’s guilt, FPL leader Salvador Cayetano Carpio promptly wrote a suicide note and shot himself in the head. With its most trusted leaders either disgraced, dead, or both, the FMLN lost steam after many members left the network in disgust. Along with this exodus of valuable cadre went all the legitimacy of the anti-negotiation faction, and so by 1989 even successful military offensives could do nothing more than bring the Salvadoran government to the negotiation table.9 The revolutionary potential of the FMLN died with Ana Maria, and her murder demonstrates how the “area of the party” approach only ends up recreating the problems of the sect form.

The Marxist Center

The US communist movement is essentially home to three different camps regarding the party question. Those who wish to see the movement divided into bureaucratic sects (with the belief that their particular sect is the One True Party) are on the right. Those who wish to see the movement divided into loosely aligned autonomist sects (with the beliefs outlined in CounterPower’s writing) are on the left. Those of us in the center are advocating a qualitative break with the sect form: the foundation of a mass party of organizers. This idea is often associated with a number of inaccurate claimsfor instance, we are frequently lumped in with those who wish to replicate the worst aspects of the DSA model, where anyone can join the organization at any time for any reason without even committing to Marxist politics. We are also often accused of wanting to create a dogmatic bureaucracy of staunch Marxist-Leninists who will run the party as they see fit without input from membership. Neither of these claims are true.

In fact, what we desire is a party made and run by the masses themselves. Years of labor-intensive organizing will be necessary to make this happen, as the masses cannot be reached and welcomed into the socialist movement any other way. Tenant and workplace unions, unemployed councils, harm reduction efforts, solidarity networks, and other forms of “mass organizations” (in addition to independent electoral efforts) must be formed and rallied around a common political pole. In order for this pole to exist in the first place, the organizers engaged in mass work must debate and discuss until they articulate and agree on a comprehensive political program. In order for these debates and discussions to produce a clear program, the organizers have to see themselves as part of a common organization aimed at a shared goal. When each of these elements fall into place, something completely unique to the US left will be born: a mass party committed to praxis, programmatic unity, and democratic discipline.

By praxis, we understand a long-term commitment to building, growing, and maintaining the kinds of mass organizations detailed above. By programmatic unity, we mean collective acceptance of a comprehensive set of answers to long-term strategic questions, forged in an extended process of comradely debate and compromise. Ideally, this would take the form of a minimum-maximum program like those laid out and critiqued by Marx, Engels, and others in the first two Internationals.10 The minimum demands are structural reforms that communicate to the working class exactly how our efforts will improve their lives and empower them at the political level. Demands like guaranteed healthcare and housing, eliminating the Electoral College, Senate, and Supreme Court, disbanding the police and forming workers’ militias, ensuring union representation, and more would bring supporters into the fold and give us access to valuable comrades and organizers. They are chosen in such a way that when every demand is met, the proletariat has seized political power from the bourgeoisie and becomes the governing class of society. 

With this done, the new workers’ government can focus on fulfilling the maximum demands, epitomized as communism, which would eradicate the last vestiges of capitalism and transition to a socialist mode of production. Establishing unity on long-term questions of strategy is far superior to enforcing a “party-line” on day-to-day issues and theoretical minutiae. It allows us to collaborate and exert the greatest possible combined strength of the working class in its diverse struggles without splitting over short-term tactical disagreements like “should we partner with this NGO on this tenant organizing project?” or subcultural arguments like “who was in the wrong at Kronstadt?” It also does not require agreement on “tendency” labels (such as Marxist-Leninist, anarchist, left-communist, etc). As our organizations grow, the need for a commonly accepted program will only increase. Finally, by democratic discipline, we refer to the old axiom “diversity of opinion, unity of action”.

These three principles are absolutely essential for the functioning of an effective and battle-ready proletarian party. As we have seen, the organizational forms of sectarians and autonomists (like the KAPD and Autonomia Operaia respectively) crumble under pressure whereas mass parties regularly weather brutal repression. No better example of this can be found in US history than that of the Alabama chapter of the CPUSA:

The fact is, the CP and its auxiliaries in Alabama did have a considerable following, some of whom devoured Marxist literature and dreamed of a socialist world. But to be a Communist, an ILD member, or an SCU militant was to face the possibility of imprisonment, beatings, kidnapping, and even death. And yet the Party survived, and at times thrived, in this thoroughly racist, racially divided, and repressive social world.11

While other cases of this phenomenon (the Russian Communist Party, the Chinese Communist Party, and others) have been historically prone to corruption, preventative measures can be taken to ensure the party retains its mass character even after smashing the state and beginning socialist reconstruction. The most immediate step in this process is the collaborative drafting of and universal agreement on a party-wide Code of Conduct. This will facilitate the development of a comradely culture that balances rigorous critique and debate with an environment of pluralism and interpersonal care. In addition to understanding how to have a one-on-one organizing conversation, we should also strive to be well-versed in skills like listening, openly sharing feelings, assuming good faith in arguments, making sincere apologies, and offering support to comrades struggling with personal issues. None of these can be learned by accident in the alienated social spaces created by capitalism, so we must make a deliberate effort to establish these norms in our organization. 

Another would be taking seriously the moral dimensions of Fidelismo’s contribution to Marxism. In stark contrast with both Stalin’s iron fist and Allende’s naive pacifism, Fidel Castro’s leadership of the Cuban revolution combined violent insurrection against the state with peaceful political maneuvering in the revolutionary movement. Over the course of protracted struggle on both fronts, the July 26th Movement was able to defeat the state militarily and construct a democratic mandate for political hegemony. Because Fidel and his comrades took the ethical implications of revolutionary struggle seriously, they were able to achieve victory without recourse to war crimes against the enemy or lethal violence against political competitors within the movement.12 This commitment to moral conduct during violent struggle did not stop them from winning the war. In fact, it allowed them to win the peace. This strategy allowed Cuba to begin building socialism after national liberation without the deadly internecine conflicts that plagued other revolutionary movements (notably including the FMLN). It is crucial that we embrace this legacy by constructing an ethic of revolution for our time. More steps beyond these will of course be necessary, and their exact nature will become clear as we work towards the realization of a comradely culture together.

Perhaps the strongest indicator of the need for a mass party is the fact that the most advanced sections of the US labor movement are already calling for the establishment of a workers’ party. In its recent pamphlet Them and Us Unionism, United Electrical, Radio and Machine Workers of America (UE) wrote:

Throughout our history, UE has held that workers need our own political party. In the 1990s, UE worked with a number of other unions to found the Labor Party, under the slogan ‘The Bosses Have Two Parties, We Need One of Our Own.’ Although the Labor Party experiment was ultimately unsuccessful, UE members and locals have been active in numerous other efforts to promote independent, pro-worker alternatives to the two major parties.13

Other labor unions like ILWU and the Teamsters have produced leading organizers who share UE’s commitment to independent worker politics. People like Clarence Thomas, who helped organize the Juneteenth port shutdown on the West Coast earlier this year in solidarity with the George Floyd uprising, Chris Silvera, who chairs the National Black Caucus in the Teamsters, and many more can be found among them. These influential voices of the labor movement have united in Labor and Community for an Independent Party, stating:

We must build democratically run coalitions that bring together the stakeholders in labor and the communities of the oppressed, so that they have a decisive say in formulating their demands and mapping out a strategy. Most important, we need to put an end to the monopoly of political power by the Democrats and Republicans. The labor movement and the leaders of the Latino and Black struggles need to break with their reliance on the Democratic Party and build their own mass-based independent working-class political party.

While it is certainly possible that these efforts could lead to the establishment of a reformist labor party, it is precisely this possibility that behooves us to get involved. Any union that recognizes the need for independent proletarian political action outside the shop floor can be considered “advanced” compared to business unions aligned with the Democratic Party, and relationships with them should be built as part of a communist intervention in the labor movement. As Marxists, we have a duty not only to organize our class but to bring theoretical clarity to its most active champions. If we continue building strong proletarian fighting organizations and elaborate our vision in a comprehensive program, we will be positioned to guide labor and community leaders of all stripes to the creation of a truly communist political party.

Ultimately, the disparate sects within Marxist Center and the local chapters of the DSA must form tighter bonds and consider internal reforms that would allow us to build the party our class requires. In doing so, we should seek to unite as many far-flung collectives and mass work projects as we can in order to become a true threat to bourgeois hegemony. While staying divided in a loose federation may seem like a viable model to some, history shows that it is not. The autonomists and anarchists in our ranks are dedicated organizers doing valuable work, and we should be grateful for that. However, we would be doing ourselves and them a disservice if we did not offer a comradely critique of their organizational models. 

Communists will always find strength in unity.

Party and Subject: A Reply to Donald Parkinson

Taylor B continues the debate on political subjectivity, revolutionary strategy and the party-form, responding to Donald Parkinson’s Without a Party, We Have Nothing

The Civil Rights movement: a political sequence without the party.

When replying to criticism, I think it is best to put all of one’s cards on the table. In August of last year, millions were in the streets and two Marxist caucuses in DSA were discussing how to advance the emancipatory struggle. In my view, the problem with this discussion was the way in which something called a “worker’s party” was posed as an obvious answer to the “movementism” around the world that seems incapable of destroying the current order that can be broadly characterized by vicious capitalist exploitation, ecological destruction, and mass depoliticization. 

Far from this discussion producing any concrete proposal for a party, the most insightful contribution seemed to come from one Red Star comrade who expressed caution in approaching the party: that we should not confuse electoral proceduralism for how to organize in a way that helps bring working class people into confrontation with the capitalist class. Rather than focus on what the party should look like in the abstract, we should organize the base of the worker’s party and promote revolutionary political education. Out of this organizing, an actual party strategy would emerge.1

I could not help but ask questions that had not been posed. If the most sensible way to go about building a party is to break with liberal political conceptions and organize and educate others to build a form of organization that we cannot define in advance, then why insist on the idea for a party at all? When millions are pouring into the streets to protest police violence and defend Black lives, is the notion of a “worker’s” party–a term that seems completely foreign to what seems to have been the largest popular mobilization in history–adequate to the moment? Is what seems to be an orthodox Marxist position on the centrality of the party to the communist movement actually an obstacle to a clear assessment of our moment? Why is it that a real movement against the present state of things always seems to be located in the future? And why does insisting on the party, even when it seems to raise many more questions than answers, automatically appear as a concrete answer to the “movementism” that we all agree must be overcome?

So I wrote an essay that tried to grapple with some of these questions.2 I argued against imposing historical organizational forms on present movements, but more importantly, I attempted to think about politics in a way that could explain the complexity of the current movements by evaluating them on their own terms. This led to some adventurous and controversial statements: that in addition to the party-form creating problems for emancipatory movements, the resurgent “socialist” movement seems to be dominated by those who have no interest in abolishing the capitalist mode of production; that certain elements of a “spontaneous” anti-racist movement seem to have a better instinct for opposing the police and the state than those who are interested in Lenin. Ultimately, I suggested that the radical elements of these movements need to find ways to organize together: I pointed to an example of the Juneteenth demonstration in Oakland that was organized by two DSA chapters and the ILWU that seemed to show these movements already doing so. And I posed more questions to suggest more concrete organizing directions that we could take up going forward.

While I was able to have some helpful and clarifying discussions with comrades inside and outside of DSA–some seem to feel that I have not made a sufficient, concrete proposal for how to advance our movement without reference to the party–Donald Parkinson has so far presented the most impassioned criticisms.3 As he writes at the end of his reply: “One thing is for sure – without a party, we have nothing. Because without a party, there is no ‘we’.”

I think we must point out the contradiction in this line that makes it impossible for it to be a clear prescription. I do not think this is a simple error on Parkinson’s part, but a constitutive contradiction that is consistent with the current party discourse. In order to say that “we” have no “we,” Parkinson presupposes a “we.” In other words, to produce a collective subject, there must be a foundational subject that Parkinson does not, and would seem he cannot, account for.

Let’s read Parkinson’s claim more closely. I believe we are caught between two ways of interpreting it. First, taking this statement at its word, we are left with a claim that reduces all of the real organization of “assemblies, affinity groups, and even new nonprofits as initiatives from activists,” along with organizations like Cosmonaut, Red Star, and the whole of DSA, to the situation of powerless, atomized individuals. The lack of a party formed through an articulated common program puts us in a kind of solipsism. 

Second, if we strip away the rhetoric, we get a claim that without a party, there is no emancipatory subject. In other words, there is no collective agent that is capable of opposing and overturning the existing society. While this second interpretation does not reduce existing organizations to atomized individuals, it deems it insufficient for emancipatory politics. The various existing groups and organizations fail to constitute a real opposition to the existing order because–and this is where Parkinson advances a very particular notion of the party based on a particular reading of Marx, Katusky, and Lenin–only a party with a common, articulated program has that power. Thus, for Parkinson, the party is an invariant model of politics, rather than a historical one. Short of this particular version of the party that Parkinson advocates, all our various collective efforts amount to nothing.4

I think the second interpretation is the more productive starting point, though I find it difficult to completely ignore the first. I see both agreement and disagreement with Parkinson. We both seem to agree that the construction of a political subject – which is composed of individual militants and yet goes beyond them – is a requirement for emancipatory politics. We both seem to agree that communism is an emancipatory politics and that any politics that falls short of communism will always be inadequate. While Parkinson has not stated this himself, I believe we both agree that there is no universal organized referent for emancipatory politics currently in existence. The question, as always, is what must be done about this. 

While Parkinson seems to have aligned himself with Red Star against my position, I do not think Parkinson’s position on the party is necessarily one that Red Star and Emerge would automatically agree with. Why? Because while Red Star and Emerge were having an exploratory conversation, Parkinson seems to already have a set idea of the party being a “state within a state,” etc. I think this strengthens my argument that the party is a term that creates more problems than it solves: without a clear formulation, the party appears as an empty signifier. With a clear, articulated formulation, the party may produce more fragmentation than consolidation. This last point seems to be supported by the fact that an endless number of small groups of militants have not only proclaimed the need for, but also formed parties, and we have moved no closer to emancipation.

This brings us to the disagreement between Parkinson and myself. Parkinson believes the problem of the subject–the lack of a collective organization with the capacity to oppose and overturn the existing society–is resolved solely through the party-form. Meanwhile, I have argued that the party-form is an obstacle to the formation of the subject in our current moment. My position is ultimately untenable. Why? Because this position cannot effectively respond to all the different things people mean when talking about the party.5 So to reformulate my position, I reject Parkinson’s concept of the party as an invariant model of politics. I reject other suggestions that the Soviet or Chinese party-states are emancipatory models that we must reproduce or emulate. To those engaging in exploratory discussions of the party, I would simply question what utility a term like ‘the party’ has if you do not have a fixed idea in mind for what you are building. Doesn’t invoking the party and attempting to take inspiration from past organizations like CPUSA simply invite confusion that we then have to continually caution against, as one Red Star comrade pointed out? Doesn’t the party end up being a future idea for overturning capitalist society, rather than a concrete step in the current moment?

If we know there is all sorts of historical baggage that comes with discussing the party, is it actually controversial to try and think of an alternative to theorizing politics and its organization? It is certainly true that if something isn’t broken, you shouldn’t fix it. But isn’t it clear that something is wrong with the party as a concept, since, despite all of our agreement that we need a revolutionary organization of workers to overthrow the few who would kill us before ever allowing us to decide for ourselves how we should live, that there is no revolutionary party or masses anywhere to be found? And shouldn’t we have an answer to this question that does not depend on a few intellectuals making claims about the development of working people’s consciousness?

Now I will attempt to clarify certain aspects of my position, and also advance some new arguments based on the discussions around my original article. I will respond to Parkinson’s alleged refutation of Sylvain Lazarus, a theorist whose dense but crucial insights should be more widely read and formed a fundamental element of my argument. Finally, I will argue the recent emergence of the Partisan project, a joint publication between San Francisco’s Red Star, NYC’s Emerge, Portland’s Red Caucus, and the Communist Caucus, should be seen as an extremely encouraging step toward the formation of a consolidated Marxist bloc with DSA that can serve as an important site of discussion, study, and experimentation to advance the emancipatory struggle of communism.

Beginnings

According to Parkinson’s summary of my argument in the second and third paragraphs of his response, one of my fundamental claims is that the DSA and the George Floyd uprising are evidence that politics has been “born.” I believe this point indicates a certain misunderstanding: I did not use the terms “birth” or “born” a single time in my “Beginnings” piece. Meanwhile, the term I used 23 times if we include the very first word of my title–beginnings–does not occur at all in Parkinson’s response. Even the less specialized term “beginning”–which combined with “beginnings” occurs 48 times in my essay does not appear at all in Parkinson’s response.

I assume the swapping of these terms is not in reference to something I am unaware of that is important to Parkinsons’ argument, such as a particular dispute in Comintern history, a passage from Pannekoek’s diary, etc. I assume that if Parkinson found my notion of “beginnings” unhelpful or wrong, then he would have demonstrated this through a critique of the concept. But that did not happen. Instead, we have two occurrences of the phrase “birth of politics” in consecutive paragraphs in Parkinson’s reply. We have the claims that I was “heralding a new creative process that will break from all the old muck of the past and create new forms of organization” and insisting that we “declare our fidelity to the spontaneous energies of the event, to see where it goes and what it creates rather than trying to impose our own ideas upon it.” 

My point was just the opposite. As someone who is a member of DSA and participated in demonstrations, I attempted to combat idealism and pose questions from within these movements to pursue an emancipatory politics. If this was not apparent to Parkinson, I believe it is because he produces a binary of tailing spontaneity and applying a pre-existing model. This binary suggests that Parkinson, despite his insistence that Marxists should join DSA and sympathy with combatting racist police violence, does not necessarily see himself as part of these movements. Thus, his criticism comes from the outside, and so must my intervention. But this is not my position in regard to these movements, nor am I thinking from within the same binary. I am instead proposing that there is a need for organization and prescription that does not occur “spontaneously,” but also does not consist in the application of a pre-existing model. I am suggesting that members of DSA and those who took to the streets must take it upon ourselves to organize in a better way to oppose the existing, global capitalist order.

I called Occupy, Ferguson, DSA’s growth by way of the Sanders’ campaigns, and the George Floyd uprising “beginnings” because these are real formations that break the pattern of “depoliticized atomization,” to use Salar Mohandesi’s phrase, yet have not produced a political sequence.6 They are not nothing, but they fall short of politics. In contrast, the metaphor of birth and whatever its variations – stillborn, miscarraige, premature, etc. – has entirely different connotations. This gendered and strangely graphic kind of metaphoric language does not grasp the dynamism and lack of definitive origins of the formations I discussed. Even when I claimed that Sanders was in part responsible for setting off a beginning, I tried to show that what was key was not Sanders, but all the thinking that emerged in response to Sanders that disrupted depoliticized atomization.

The basis of my intervention was to say that if these beginnings are to produce political subjectivity, then they must overcome the internal and external forces that seek to neutralize them. I attempted to assess the real conditions of these movements–the balance of emancipatory potential and real neutralizing forces within and outside them–precisely to identify lines that we must fight and organize along so that effective ideas and practices can be produced from within, and thus transform, these formations. That is why I have criticized liberals who say we need to reform the police and run progressive politicians, along with the socialists who reduce riots to emotional outbursts and sometimes fall into a kind of idealist thinking that says we just have to do what the Bolsheviks did. If I did not distance myself from ultra-left positions that say sabotaging trains and looting Targets is the path to emancipation, it is only because I do not take these positions seriously and see very few people advancing them.

The language of beginnings, then, is distinct and fundamental to my approach. By suggesting that the DSA and the uprisings are beginnings, I intended to show that real breaks occurred in the thought of people. How else do we account for people suddenly going from a state of atomized depoliticization to spending an inordinate amount of time on Zoom calls discussing bylaws, or braving crowded streets in a pandemic to demand the end to police killings? Thus, a beginning must break with the neutralizing order. But on its own, this break is not sufficient to constitute an emancipatory sequence due to complex and varied forces of neutralization that maintain the current order. In other words, a foothold is necessary to free climb a mountain; but a foothold does not eliminate the problem of gravity.

So in the schema I produced in the “Beginnings” article, there are two breaks. There is the break from neutralization to beginnings, and the break from beginnings to politics. Since politics is rare and sequential, a new subjective invention that begins and ends, then my claim is that beginnings must be common and chaotic. Beginnings spark, die out, and spark again. Beginnings fundamentally have something to do with the ever-present potential for politics that occurs in the thought of people who are exploited and oppressed that sometimes leads them to organize themselves with others to fight those who dominate them. Unfortunately, it is the categorical limit of beginnings to almost always fail.

Beginning Again

While it seems true that beginnings can be neutralized in the ways I discussed in my article, it seems unlikely that I can maintain the position that neutralization precedes beginnings. The question of going from nothing to something is ultimately a metaphysical or theological question and does not interest me much. Clearly the world, short of emancipation and parties, is not nothing; I don’t believe anyone is claiming otherwise. But we still must be able to account for what occurs between emancipatory sequences. I have proposed beginnings. But then how do we account for beginnings?

To try and resolve the problem of beginnings, I will introduce an idea that I have derived from one of Alain Badiou’s incomparable diagrams. This is the notion of an ordering regime. The ordering regime is the something that precedes a beginning. And the ordering regime is what exists at the close of an emancipatory sequence. To maintain order, to keep everyone in their given places, it must engage in dynamic processes of neutralization. I think that is sufficient for now.

I believe there are four questions that must be addressed to continue clarifying this debate.

First, why is it necessary to talk about this conceptual dynamic between beginnings and neutralization, which appear to speak generically about politics in terms which aren’t contained in the Marxist canon? Why not just talk about class struggle? It is necessary because political sequences are rare, and they do not always have to do with class struggle. The rarity of emancipatory sequences, the rarity of politics, emerges in subjective thought. It is through an event that is irreducible to the present regime or order, or ordering regime, that the subjective thought of politics has the potential to erupt into thought. Sometimes this produces a sustained emancipatory sequence. Ordering regimes attempt to neutralize this movement; this sometimes forces a major re-ordering. The complicated dynamics of the ruling class, itself the condensation of many bourgeois interests, is one general historical example of an ordering regime. Fundamentally, politics is about people breaking from the places assigned to them by an ordering regime. It is in this sense that we can understand Badiou, when thinking in reference to the situation in 1968, he asks: 

What would a political practice that was not willing to keep everyone in their place look like?…What inspired us was the conviction that we had to do away with places. That is what is meant, in the most general sense, by the word ‘communism’: an egalitarian society which, acting under its own impetus, brings down walls and barriers; a polyvalent society, with variable trajectories, both at work and in our lives. But ‘communism’ also means forms of political organization that are not modelled on spatial hierarchies.7

Second, what is emancipatory politics? Emancipatory politics is the name of the rare, subjective thought in the minds of people that prescribes the correct forms of organization to destroy “the places” of a given ordering regime in a movement toward the absolutely free and egalitarian association of all people. The common name for universal emancipatory politics is communism: it is the real movement against the present state of things. We might say that emancipation is not a state of affairs to be realized, but a project without end predicated on subjective thought: it fundamentally has something to do with the power to decide.

Third, why are emancipatory sequences rare? Politics must begin in thought as a relation of real circumstances. I want to be explicit here: I am not talking about thought in idealist terms. I am thinking of thought in the same way Lenin uses theory in his famous statement that without revolutionary theory, there is no revolutionary movement. My point is to detach thought from theory. Theory is essentially a systematized way of thinking. Thought must be fundamental to the existence of theory, though without the supposed guarantees of a particular revolutionary theory. If we understand “emancipation” to have a broader meaning than particular Marxists theories of revolution–with emancipation serving as a common category to think sequences as different as the Hatian Revolution and the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution–then “thought” is the broader common category that links Marxist theories with the different but still correct ideas of the Haitian Revolution. 

How can we support this claim? We can say that while Marxist theory has been proven correct time and again in guiding emancipatory movements, it is not the only thought to have done so. As I have indicated, thought does not come with the same guarantees as scientific socialism. Nevertheless, correct prescriptions–ideas that are confirmed correct through their material and practical consequences–begins in thought.

This brings us to the point about rarity. Real circumstances are always exceptional: each circumstance consists of an uneven balance of forces that are produced through an accumulation of historical contradictions. The formation of emancipatory politics is rare because it is incredibly difficult to produce the correct thoughts and unique forms of organization that are adequate to contest the present ordering regime in the exceptional, overdetermined moment. In other words, politics must begin in thought but can only be realized through correct prescriptions. In this sense, emancipatory politics both begins in thought and is fundamentally material. 

The reason why I have suggested that thought is central to politics is because thought is already something that is always happening in the minds of all people, regardless of their understanding of the world. Thought is a fundamental category of subjectivity and human agency. The question for those of us involved in the struggle for emancipation is which thought, and at which sites, does a lasting subjectivization emerge that can topple the given and exceptional ordering regime? The particular sites of politics–the places where thought occurs–are what must be discovered so we can alter our current forms of organization to produce the rare, emancipatory sequence.

Fourth, if politics is rare, are we to believe that history is a series of disconnected moments with no continuity between them? Is each beginning or emancipatory sequence always forced to start from scratch? I will admit that the question of history is made extremely complicated by the frameworks of Badiou and Lazarus which I have drawn on. But I will also say that history has always been a complicated question in Marxism, already evident in the longstanding debate about Marx’s relation to Hegel, Marx’s letters on Russia, the debate between the Bolsheviks and the Mensheviks, the question of “stagism,” the debate over the Stalinist “theory of the productive forces,” etc.

Instead of attempting to resolve the problem of history in Marxism, I will address the questions I have posed related to history with reference to an axiom of Marx and Engels: that history always progresses by its bad side. For Althusser, the bad side is the side from which people do not expect history to progress. I understand this to mean that the past does not transmit an accumulation of “lessons” that lead us to a final victory, but an accumulation of contradictions that form the exceptional circumstances of the present moment. This moment is managed by the given ordering regime. And it is also a condition of the real which, through an event, erupts within subjective thought in interiority.

From the framework of emancipatory sequences, what is continuous is the problem of the exceptional present, and thus, new ideas that can prescribe correct practices to overcome it. As Lazarus writes in a forthcoming translation of a 1981 text: “one must continue to find the rupture.”8

With a more limited understanding of continuity, we might say that different degrees of continuity between emancipatory sequences is possible at times. But greater continuity does not guarantee that solving the problem of the present will be any easier. For example, one might argue, as Parkinson does, that there was a continuity between Marx and Lenin via Kautsky and the SPD. But even with this degree of continuity, it was by no means obvious or guaranteed that Marxism could be adapted to the Russian context. It was the discontinuity and difference–that which was new in Lenin’s thought–that made Lenin’s contributions to Marxism possible and significant. We might go so far as to say that, for Lenin, Marxism itself was one dimension of the problem of the present.

Marx, Lenin, and the Party

Now Parkinson has vigorously contested my usage of Lazarus to argue that Marx and Lenin had differences on the question of the party. I will get to that. But to continue with my discussion of continuity and discontinuity, I must again assert that Lenin’s thought contains new ideas that cannot be found in Marx. We will bracket the question of whether or not Lenin invented these ideas: we will simply compare the ideas of Marx and Lenin. To avoid saying anything controversial, I will reassert the difference between Marx and Lenin with reference to Rossana Rossanda’s 1970 classic, “Class and Party.”

As Rossanda explains, “what separates Marx from Lenin (who, far from filling in Marx’s outlines, oriented himself in a different direction) is that the organization is never considered by Marx as anything but an essentially practical matter, a flexible and changing instrument, an expression of the real subject of the revolution, namely the proletariat.”9 

To fully appreciate the difference between Marx and Lenin, we need to focus on Marx for a moment. Marx sees a “direct” relationship between the proletariat and the party of the proletariat. In fact, “the terms are almost interchangeable. For between the class as such and its political being, there is only a practical difference, in the sense that the second is the contingent form of the first.”10

What is the mechanism that produces this organized, “practical difference”? For Rossanda, Marx sees the class struggle with its “material roots in the mechanism of the system itself.” We can refer back to Marx’s famous letter to Weydemyer to support Rossanda’s reading. Interestingly, when reviewing Marx’s letter we immediately see him address the question of originality.

And now as to myself, no credit is due to me for discovering the existence of classes in modern society or the struggle between them. Long before me bourgeois historians had described the historical development of this class struggle and bourgeois economists, the economic economy of the classes. 

First, I think we can immediately see the question of originality is more complicated than Parkinson makes it out to be. Marx plainly states that his discovery is not the historical development of the class struggle, but something more specific. Fortunately, Marx gives us a clear description:

What I did that was new was to prove: (1) that the existence of classes is only bound up with particular historical phases in the development of production (historische Entwicklungsphasen der Production), (2) that the class struggle necessarily leads to the dictatorship of the proletariat, (3) that this dictatorship itself only constitutes the transition to the abolition of all classes and to a classless society.11

In other words, what was new in Marx’s work was showing how the class struggle does not simply relate to historical development, but “historical phases in the development of production.” This discovery produces a particular emancipatory prescription. As Rossanda rightly says, for Marx, the category of revolution is thus the “process which is intended to transcend the system.” Revolution is “a social activity which creates, over time, the political forms which the class needs and which constitutes its organization–namely the party.” Despite the apparent interchability of the terms “party” and “proletariat,” we see that for Marx “this is only so in the sense that the former is the political form of the latter, and constitutes its transitory mode of being, with the historical imperfections of concrete political institutions; while the proletariat remains the permanent historical subject, rooted in the material conditions of the capitalist system.”12

To return to Lazarus, we should note that Rossanda employs Lenin’s periodization of Marxism as found in his “The Historical Destiny of the Doctrine of Karl Marx” essay. Lazarus, Rossanda, and Lenin all agree that 1848 to 1871 was a specific phase or sequence that centers on Marx’s thought. For Lazarus, this phase is called the “classist mode” of politics, with Marx being its main theorist. We should be clear that Lazarus is using the term “classist” in a particular way. Rather than referring to discrimination based on class, he is referring to the idea that there are historical laws which determine the existence of classes in society and the struggle between them – exactly what Marx said in the letter to Weydemeyer that he had inherited from the bourgeois historians. 

For Lazarus, a mode is “the relationship of a politics to its thought.”13 Rather than this mode beginning with the 1848 revolutions as Lenin claims, Lazarus expands this beginning to include the publication of the Communist Manifesto. Again, I believe both Lenin and Lazarus would agree that this period can be characterized as one in which “Marx’s doctrine by no means dominated. It was only one of the very numerous groups or trends of socialism.”14 While Marx’s thought proved to be a subjective, emancipatory thought that, to use Lenin’s words, “gained a complete victory and began to spread” after 1871, Lazarus argues that this is the moment when the sites of Marx’s thought lapsed and the whole classist mode became exhausted. Why? Because the Paris Commune revealed the limits of the thesis of Marx’s merger of “the prescriptive and the descriptive,” the merger of “history and politics” that takes the name “historical consciousness.”15 Nevertheless, it is clear that Marxism did continue to grow and spread as Lenin claimed.

Lenin and Lazarus’s periodization diverges in an interesting way. For Lenin, there is a second period from 1872-1904 that is characterized by the “absence of revolutions” and “the theoretical victory of Marxism” that “compelled its enemies to disguise themselves as Marxists. Liberalism, rotten within, tried to revive itself in the form of socialist opportunism.”16 Then there is a third period from 1905 to Lenin’s textual present of 1913 when “a new source of great world storms opened up in Asia. The Russian revolution was followed by revolutions in Turkey, Persia and China. It is in this era of storms and their ‘repercussions’ in Europe that we are now living.”17

I think it is striking that the dates of Lenin and Lazarus’ periodizations align so closely. While Lenin points to the Russian Revolution of 1905 as a second revolutionary era in Marxism, Lazarus argues that the Bolshevik mode begins in 1902 with Lenin’s publication of What Is to Be Done? (WITBD). Again, Parkinson has challenged this point and I will take it up later. 

The point I want to make is that the end of the “classist mode,” or first period of Marxism, seems to contain an insight into Marxism in general. Until 1871, Marxism was not a victorious doctrine: it was the thought of Marx. Famously, Marx never claimed to be a Marxist and it is a somewhat common view to see Engels as the real creator of Marxism. But then, as we know, Engels has been criticized heavily for some of his formulations. This is to say that the first Marxist is by no means a prophet, but begins a critical discussion of Marx’s work. In this sense, it would seem that it is impossible to view Marxism as a singular, cohesive set of ideas: Marxism is always contested. I would suggest that the “doctrine of Karl Marx” that became victorious is not so much Marxism, but the emergence of multiple Marxist tendencies: of Marxisms.

This would seem to be reflected in Lenin’s second and third periods. After 1871 we can see two tendencies develop, though not necessarily in a clean fork from Marx’s work. On the one hand, there was the mechanical tendency that came to be advanced by Kautsky and Bernstein in the Social Democratic Party of Germany. In this sense, we see that while Luxemburg was correct in her famous criticism of Bernstein, this mechanical tendency did have its roots in a particular understanding of politics that is unique to Marx: the merger of history and the politics. The problem ultimately was that Bernstein had failed to see that the realization of communism as a result of historical phases in the development of production had already been exhausted. On the other hand, due to the “backward” Russian situation, Lenin would be forced to find another way. 

To put things very simply, Lenin’s other way would take the name Leninism. And Leninism would correctly oppose other non-Marxist and Marxist tendencies, with the proof of its correctness culminating in October 1917. But the Lenin of 1913 could not have known he was to become a great thinker of emancipation or that his 1902 intervention–WITBD–could be seen as the basis of a distinct mode of politics. Yet it is telling that Lenin dates 1905 as a key moment for the second revolutionary period in Marxism with reference to the 1905 “dress rehearsal.” While the 1905 revolution was not successful, it produced a new, revolutionary form of organization: the soviet. Combined with the party, the soviet put the question of revolution back on the table: a new emancipatory sequence had begun. 

Let’s return to Marx so we can see more clearly what’s new in Lenin. According to Lazarus, a key thesis of the classist mode is: “where there are proletarians, there are Communists.” As Rossanda shows, for Marx, “the proletariat in struggle does not produce an institution distinct from its immediate being”: if “one does not find a theory of the party in Marx, the reason is that, in his theory of revolution, there is neither need nor room for it.”18 Thus, from Marx to Lenin we see a recasting of the dialectic “in which the subject is the proletariat and the object society produced by the relations of capitalist production, thus moves towards a dialectic between class and vanguard, in which the former has the capacity of an ‘objective quantity,’ while the latter, the party, being the subject, is the locus of ‘revolutionary initiative.’”19 I would like to emphasize what is at stake in this shift: a fundamentally different conception of the emancipatory subject. 

Why was Lenin’s break with Marx necessary? It is the same reason that for Lenin, Marxism was one dimension of the problem of the present. “Lenin’s horizon was delimited by two major facts: first of all, capitalism has entered in the imperialist phase, and its crisis reveals itself more complex than had been foreseen.”20 Beyond this, “Lenin, throughout his life, had to face the growing resistance of the system, and a capacity for action of the working class much inferior from 1848 to the Paris Commune.”21 Ultimately, “the capitalist and imperialism system was defeated in areas which, according to the Marxian schema, were not ‘ripe’ for communism.”22 In other words, for Lenin:

the confrontation must be prepared: the more society lacks ‘maturity,’ the more important it is that a vanguard should provoke the telescoping of objective conditions with the intolerability of exploitation and a revolutionary explosion, by giving the exploited and the oppressed the consciousness of their real condition, by wrenching them out of ignorance and resignation, by indicating to them a method, a strategy and the possibility or revolt–by making them revolutionaries.23

It would seem Rossanda is once again in agreement with Lazarus. For Lazarus, “the basis of Lenin’s thinking and of the Bolshevik mode of politics is the following statement: Proletarian politics is subject to condition…that it is subject to condition indicates that politics is expressive neither of social conditions nor…of history as Marx conceived of it.”24 Lazarus develops this point further, noting that “Lenin does not go so far as to abandon the connection between class and history but he makes it conditional on consciousness.”25 Lenin’s break nonetheless leads us to an inversion of a classically Marxian understanding of antagonism: 

one cannot argue that it is antagonism that constitutes consciousness–it appears instead to be one of its propositions, the end product of a process subject to condition. Therefore, it is not antagonism that produces consciousness but consciousness that declares it…Consciousness is not so much a historical space as a political and prescriptive space.26

Now that we have seen what is new in Lenin, we are in a position to conclude this section with a turn toward our own exceptional present with the question of continuity and discontinuity in mind. To put what I have said in a slightly different way: since the circumstances of the present are always exceptional, the question of emancipation must always begin with a new, unbalanced equation. A limited notion of continuity may supply us with some notion of a constant, but it is what’s discontinuous, the formation of the new answer to the new equation, that we must always solve ourselves. 

Let’s try to push this mathematical metaphor further. We might say beginnings are what occur on scratch paper until a solution is produced; it is the arrival at the answer that transforms what was a messy scrap into the site of an ingenious breakthrough. It is that site of the breakthrough that has the potential to support the lasting formation of the subject, which is composed by militants it at the same time exceeds. There are no guarantees, only a wager that can be made in correspondence with the upsurge of the masses, or to use Lenin’s term, stikhiinost.27

On what basis can we claim this site is necessarily the party? Even if we could say with certainty that the categories and sites of historical modes of politics will occur in the form of something called a party, then what are we left with if not another undefined variable? The matter is much more difficult than simply having an undefined variable, since this is precisely what we started with. Abstract reference to the party produces a figure that only gives the appearance of definition: what we are left with is a shadow cast on the whole situation that we confuse with the real. 

To put it another way: at best, the party discussion amounts to a confusing and overwrought insistence on organizing to produce an emancipatory subject and the sites that give it consistency. But it does not say any more than this. In this scenario, insistence on the party does not give us any clues about which subjective thoughts, at which particular sites, could produce correct prescriptions to advance the emancipatory struggle in our exceptional moment.  At its worst, the party discussion reduces the question of subjectivization to ideal organizational structures, procedures, and administration to build “states within states” and other unappealing creations. This amounts to a schematic application of blueprints from the past and, unsurprisingly, consistently fails to generate any support beyond the dozen people who were inspired by a particular episode in the history of the international communist movement. 

Beyond the best and worst scenarios, I think there are additional dangers. Since our current socialist movement has only the faintest understanding of what capitalism is and that it must be abolished, mechanical calls for things like “democratic centralism” could very well become the means to reelecting progressive Democrats to save and manage capitalism in a crumbling two-party system. Why? Because if the subjective, emancipatory character is not a question we are concerned with–if politics is not in command–then the vicious existing order of exploitation and exclusion stands and depoliticized proceduralism reigns. 

The Method of Saturation

We now have to make an abrupt turn to Sylvain Lazarus’s notion of “modes of politics.” Parkinson believes Lars Lih’s work on Lenin refutes Lazarus’s periodization of emancipatory sequences. Parkinson makes two claims: first, that Lazarus’s method provides no explanatory value because “the only thing that Lazarus’s narrative explains is why he thinks we need to abandon all the past concepts of Marxist politics and come up with something completely novel.” And second, that “the narrative Lazarus paints is simply not true. Lenin was not breaking with the political practice or conceptions of Marx and Engels in What Is To Be Done? and wasn’t making any kind of original argument.”

Let’s begin with the first claim: that Lazarus is simply projecting his pre-formed conclusions back onto history to discard all Marxist categories, and therefore his analysis has no value. As I have said, it was my intention to provoke a discussion by turning to Lazarus; I am glad to have the opportunity to discuss him further. While I do have reservations about his work, I think there is tremendous value in thinking through it.

It is telling that in Parkinson’s 336 word summary of Lazarus’s argument as found in “Lenin and the Party, 1902–November 1917,” the name of Lazarus’s method–saturation–is nowhere to be found. I believe Parkinson’s frustration with and suspicion of Lazarus’s analysis is symptomatic of the fact that he does not engage at all with Lazarus’s method. This is an obvious problem if you are going to refute an argument, but by no means do I think Parkinson is to blame. To be fair, the word “saturation” appears only once in Lazarus’s “Lenin and the Party” essay to which Parkinson refers. Had Parkinson read Lazarus’s “Can Politics be Thought in Interiority?,” often considered an introductory text, he may have run into similar troubles: the term only appears once in there too around the middle.28 Nevertheless, I am sure Parkinson pored over Lazarus’s “Lenin and the Party” text looking for its weakness and revised his summary of Lazarus’s argument extensively. Clearly, we need more opportunities for greater collective study to work through complicated issues, and in this regard Parkinson’s efforts are salutary. However, for efforts to be fruitful, they have to go beyond rejoinders to isolated points and actually engage with the underlying questions and categories of the text.

It is true that in his text on Lenin Lazarus dismisses “the category of revolution.” For Lazarus, “this dismissal is a complex business, for the closure by itself does not break historicism.”29 This point raises more questions than answers. What does Lazarus mean by “historicism”? Where is Lazarus’s argument ultimately taking us? Are we going to be forced to accept Lazarus’s dismissal of revolution?

Let’s work backward, taking the last question first. I do not think dismissing the category of revolution is necessary. It is sufficient to reject a static conception of revolution, and instead evaluate the concept in relation to the various circumstances in which it appears. Since Lazarus is attempting to make a very particular point about “the category of revolution,” I do not think engaging in a discussion of his method equates to full endorsement. In my opinion, the dismissal of the category of revolution is a highly controversial, though nonetheless interesting, idea to think through.

To give some idea of where Lazarus’s argument takes us, Lazarus will reject a purist framework that says we should reject the Bolshevik mode because it was intrinsically authoritarian and doomed to failure. For Lazarus:

the method of saturation consists in the re-examination, from within a closed mode, of the exact nature of protocols and processes of subjectivization that it proposed. We are then in a better position to identify what the statements of subjectivization were and the ever singular reason for their precariousness. The thesis of the cessation of a subjective category and that of the precariousness of politics (which goes hand in hand with the rarity of politics) are not supplanted by a thesis with regard to failure and a lack of subjectivization.30

Perhaps this passage gives us a sense of what Lazarus means by “closure.” Nevertheless, we can see clearly that the method of saturation has something to do with a “re-examination” to better understand the protocols, processes, prescriptions, and statements of subjectivization that compose a mode of politics. We see clearly that subjective categories are “precarious,” and that this precarity has something to do with its rarity. We see that the cessation of a subjective category does not authorize one to make the accusation of failure. 

We must ask what Lazarus means by “historicism.” After a discussion of the Bolshevik mode–which I gave an account of in my “Beginnings” piece–we are left with Lazarus’s claim that “the lapsing of the party form, in its political efficacy, was thus complete after November 1917,” and “from this moment on we enter a historicist problematic of politics in which the key word becomes revolution.” So we see that “historicism” is a problematic, or theoretical framework, of politics that comes after the closure of the Bolshevik mode. The Bolshevik mode was a real emancipatory sequence whose sites were the party and the soviet. The party “lapsed,” which is to say that it was no longer a site of emancipatory politics, after its fusion with the state in November 1917, thus subordinating the soviets to its directions.31 Following this lapse, the term “revolution” is symptomatic of, or indicates, the “historicist problematic of politics.” 

We have two questions now: why is the term revolution symptomatic of a historicist problematic of politics? And still, what is the historicist problematic of politics?

We have to pay close attention to what Lazarus means by revolution. “The term revolution is not a generic term denoting an insurrection against the established order, or a change in the structures of a state—and a state of things. It is on the contrary a singular term.” It is a “singular noun” that “constitutes the central category of acting consciousness” that belongs to what Lazarus calls the “revolutionary mode, the political sequence of the French Revolution.”32 

So we see the problem clearly. For Lazarus, “revolution” is a singular term that belongs to a particular sequence that occurred from 1792-94 that had its own main theorist (Saint-Just) and sites of politics (the Jacobin Convention, the sans culottes, and the revolutionary army).33

For Lazarus, the issue with retaining the term “revolution” is that it was exhausted in 1794 with the closure of the French Revolution, what he calls the “revolutionary” mode of politics. In order to understand the specificity of this emancipatory sequence and how it came to an end, he interprets “revolution” as a category that is located within it and cannot simply be generalized to any political situation. What is at stake here is that a “historicist problematic of politics” does not conceive of singular conceptions of subjectivity as a relation of the real circumstances in which they emerge. If “revolution” is understood as a singular category of political thinking, then it is because the term has to do with the moment in which revolution bears “political capacity.”34 Otherwise, the term has been “captured” at its most fundamental level by the “historicist” notion that “marks out the state as the sole and essential issue at stake in politics.”35 In other words, if the category of revolution is captured by historicism, then revolution cannot pertain to a subjective decision that is thought in thought. The category of revolution, removed from singular context, thus becomes a category of a de-subjectivized statism. In this case, the category of revolution is deprived of its emancipatory power.

Let’s try to put all this more simply. If we agree that emancipation is our goal, we have to then confront the question of the emancipatory political subject – that is, what allows us to identify a politics that cannot be reduced to the objective conditions of the existing reality. We have to engage in the difficult task of identifying particular subjective occurrences as a thought of politics that relates to its objective circumstances but can also go beyond them and put the ordering regime into question. Otherwise, our thinking is dominated by “circulating” political ideas – that is, categories that were formed within specific situations which are generalized and circulated to entirely different situations. These circulating notions prevent us from understanding how categories specific to a historical mode of politics have been exhausted and are no longer appropriate to the current moment. In effect, we remain “captured” by the present state of things and unable to advance the subjective thoughts of our circumstances that are required to struggle for universal emancipation.

Now that we have discussed and defined the “historicist problematic of politics,” I believe we are in a position to see why Parkinson’s claim that Lazarus’s method contains no value and that it seeks to do away with all Marxist categories indicates a serious misunderstanding. While Lazarus may be interpreted as “breaking” with Marxism, the larger point is that he breaks with all other formalized disciplines, including social science and history, to construct his theory of politics. This move is interesting because even though he speaks of “dismissal,” he by no means suggests we discard Marx, Lenin, or Mao. His argument is that disciplines like history and social science have already done this since becoming captured by the historicist problematic. In other words, Lazarus argues that social science and history have significantly contributed to the “destitution and criminalization of the ‘revolutions’ of the twentieth century.” This criminalization of the revolutionary thought and practice of Marx, Lenin, and Mao becomes the basis for the “contemporary parliamentary” regime. This regime consists of “competitive capitalism, commodities, and money presented as voluntary choices of our freedom,” leaving us with “the collapse of thought, reduced to microeconomics and the philosophy of John Rawls, or rendered coextensive with the political philosophy of the rights of man in a senile appropriation of Kant.”36 As Lazarus further explains:

The fall of the Soviet Union and socialism has fully confirmed the good historicist conscience of parliamentarianism in its rightful place and considerably reinforced its arrogance, its violence, and its legitimacy, allowing it to treat any reservation and criticism, worse still any other project, as crazy and criminal.37

So we see that for Lazarus, the dismissal of revolution is not an attack on Marxism or emancipation. Rather, the act of dismissal is the basis for Lazarus’ radical critique of the disciplines of social science and history that have foreclosed on the possibility of organizing human life in any way beyond the depravity of our existing society. In other words, Lazarus does not proclaim the end of history or revolution: his point is that social science and history have already done this. Rather than argue for a renewal of social science or history, he attempts to overturn them completely to think about the possibility of emancipatory politics.

Let’s return to the passage that I began with about the dismissal of the category of revolution, this time in full:

This dismissal is a complex business, for the closure by itself does not break historicism. What is involved is in no way closing a previous stage and moving on to the following one (which is the case with historicism), but rather maintaining that any closure requires the re-examination of the era whose closure is to be pronounced. This is what I call saturation, a method that traces the subjective spaces of the categories of the sequence to be closed.38

Here we see the lone occurrence of “saturation” in the Lazarus essay that Parkinson focused on. As Lazarus clearly indicates, this word represents his very method, and is clearly fundamental to his analysis in which there are historical modes of politics. 

As I have already suggested, saturation is defined as a method that attempts to understand the singular forms of subjectivity: “the exact nature of protocols and processes of subjectivization that is proposed.”39 To “prevent us from turning modes into subjective abstractions,” the subjective category is taken into account with its historical moment, thus giving us the historical modes of politics.40 The historical moment is essentially defined by Lazarus’s “category of historicity” which “renders the question of the state.”41 We see that the “closure” of these sequences, of identifying the moments in which the sites of this subjectivity breaks down, by no means gives us permission to “move on to the following one,” as this “moving on” is precisely what characterizes the historicist problematic which deprives the occurrence of subjectivity its power. In other words, Lazarus rejects a stagism that might put Marx, Lenin, and Mao into a particular kind of order, with one supplanting the next. For Lazarus, historical modes of thought have to be taken in their singularity.

Lazarus’s method of saturation means putting the instances of subjectivity in their correct place to be kept alive as relations of their moment so they can be “re-examined.” Thus, it is the method of saturation that, by way of this re-examining of “subjective spaces,” allows us to identify “the singularity of the politics at work” in a particular sequence. By putting the category of revolution in its correct place in the revolutionary mode and removing “from October the description of revolution,” Lenin and the Bolshevik mode are given back “its originality and its unprecedented political power—that of being the invention of modern politics.”42

So here we see that Lazarus’s method of saturation produces a schema of emancipatory sequences through careful study of singular subjectivity. This includes the re-examination of Marx, Lenin, and Mao within their particular spaces. Clearly, a re-examination of Marx, Lenin, and Mao cannot mean doing away with them. What is interesting to me is how this method opens the door to thinking about emancipatory formations that exist outside the historically contingent boundaries of the communist movement. It is in this sense that I agree very strongly with Mohandesi’s invocation of Althusser: that “it is not a matter of ‘expanding’ the existing politics, but of knowing how to listen to politics where it happens.”43 

This is why I think Asad Haider is correct to argue that the Civil Rights Movement was an emancipatory sequence.44 As Marxists, I believe we need a theory that can account for events like the Montgomery bus boycott and sequences like the Civil Rights Movement in their own terms. Rather than continue to evaluate the degree of development of people’s consciousness in relation to a particular emancipatory thought, I think we should consider Lazarus’ founding axiom: people think.

Take the Montgomery bus boycott as just one example. Segregation on busses was both a particular form of oppression that was essentially a universal experience for Black people living in Montgomery. While Rosa Parks’s refusal to give up her seat was an event of rupture, she was by no means the first to engage in this act of refusal. What was the result? Roughly 40% of a city boycotted a primary mode of transportation for nine months. Their boycott put significant pressure on municipal revenues. The refusal of public transit disrupted white households to such an extent that white women who were not sympathetic to the boycott would pick up the Black women who worked in their homes and lie to their husbands about doing so. Those with cars participated in the organizing of ride-sharing programs to help the boycotters get around.45 All of this incredible organization happened, yet the notion of a political party is nowhere to be found. But there were clearly thought and correct prescriptions. There was clearly something we might call discipline or fidelity, some kind of active principle that drove people to such incredible lengths to oppose the existing society. How do we begin to account for this? We say that people think.

Refuting Refutation

However, even if we bracket the question of method, we have to address an empirical objection. Parkinson goes further than stating that Lazarus’s overall approach has no value. He claims it is categorically false. With reference to Lars Lih’s Lenin Rediscovered, Parkinson maintains that Lenin “wasn’t making any kind of original argument” in WITBD. The text apparently shows “an impressive exercise in aggressive unoriginality.” 

Before we can address this criticism, we should first clarify that for Lazarus, WITBD marks the beginning of the Bolshevik mode: it is the beginning of a sequence that runs “from 1902 to October 1917. It was closed by the victory of the insurrection, the creation of the Soviet state, and the renaming of the Bolsheviks as the Communist Party in 1918.”46 By identifying the lapsing of the Bolshevik sites and seeing the successful insurrection as part of the closure of the Bolshevik mode, we separate the contradictions of socialist construction from the singular power of Lenin’s thought. For Lazarus, WITBD is the privileged text because “it bears on politics, its conditions and its thought”: “I think it is absolutely essential to separate radically the texts before the seizure of power from those of the period of the exercise of power.”47 If this is too radical a claim, then we can at least accept that despite the fact that we can find Lenin’s work in his Collected Works, this “by no way means that one can decide a priori that the theses in these thousands of texts are internally homogeneous and coherent. The existence of such a work does not mean continuity, homogeneity, unity.”48 In other words, if we understand the Bolshevik mode as a sequence that is guided by the subjective thought of Lenin over time, then we must see that Lenin’s thought must be heterogeneous. It would follow then that whatever relationship Lenin has to Marx and Kautsky – certainly two people that were significant influences on him – we cannot characterize this influence as static and unchanging.

Now to Parkinson’s criticism on the question of “originality.” If we take Parkinson literally–that Lenin “wasn’t making any kind of original argument”–then we have an extreme position that can be met with what might seem to be a counter-intuitive fact: that repetition is difference.

How can we illustrate this? We can say that even if the totality of Lenin’s political expression had been submitting quotations from the Collected Works of Marx and Engels in the original German to his opponents without any additional commentary–even if Lenin had randomly drawn pages of Marx’s actual manuscripts from a hat and nailed them to the doors of his rivals–this would still be in some sense “original,” though certainly bizarre and likely ineffective. Why? At the most immediate level, because simply selecting quotations from works which were frequently unfinished or abandoned to the “gnawing criticism of the mice,” which responded to changing historical circumstances and constantly went through developments and changes in their theoretical frameworks, would already represent a specific and contentious interpretation, and this interpretation would be an intervention into a scenario which was totally different from the one in which the works were originally written. But it is also because it is impossible to do the same thing twice.49 It is for this reason that we do not refer to the immortal science of Marxism-Marxism. But even if we did, the placement of the second Marxism would still indicate a difference through its repetition. Indeed, the name “Marxism-Leninism” obviously indicates that “Leninism” is something separate from “Marxism,” thus requiring a hyphen to connect them.

To be fair to Parkinson, we might ask what else his statement could mean beyond a literal interpretation. While I have already shown that Parkinson has neglected to engage with the questions that Lazarus’s method sets out to address, I believe we can read Parkinson’s statements symptomatically to understand what seems to be at stake. I recognize that to this point I have used the term “symptomatic” a few times and should clarify what I mean in the current context. Here I am referring to Althusser’s method of reading that “divulges the undivulged event in the text.”50 Thus, I will attempt to analyze what is happening beneath the text.

Let’s take this statement from Parkinson for example: “What Lazarus is doing is projecting a radical break into history so as to justify that another radical break is necessary.” It would seem Parkinson has been forced into a situation where he must deny discontinuity and difference between Marx and Lenin. This seems to be confirmed by the fact that while the term “continuity” appears five times in his reply, the term “discontinuity” does not appear at all. Instead, we get five uses of the term “novelty.” What is particularly interesting about Parkinson’s usage of “novelty” is that while it is used once to mean the opposite of continuity (his assertion that history is a “flux of novelty and continuity”), novelty is primarily used to accuse Lazarus, and my usage of him, as falling into the fallacy of an “appeal to novelty.” Beyond the suppression of the term discontinuity, the term “difference” does not appear at all in Parkinson’s piece and the term “different” appears once. It is worth noting that Parkinson’s essay is 4,393 words long.

So we see that a symptomatic reading shows that discontinuity and difference is suppressed in Parkinson’s text. Our symptomatic reading of Parkinson’s thesis that Lenin “wasn’t making any kind of original argument” in WITBD produces another tension. We might express this additional tension in the form of a question: to what degree can one person’s thought be continuous with another’s through the reality of difference – historical and geographical difference, and even simply the difference between political actors? To answer this question requires locating what is divergent between the two thoughts. In other words, what does one think that the other does not? While it is certainly possible that Lazarus and myself have posed this question in a Saint-Justian register (“In a time of innovation, anything that is not new is pernicious”), I do not think investigating this question is in any way fallacious. Certainly Lazarus’s reading is challenging to those who are set in their commitments. But then I do not know what the point of study and discussion is if we assume we already have the answer.

So let’s put Parkinson’s literal thesis aside and adopt the question that we have constructed from his text about continuity and difference. Rather than simply read Parkinson against himself, we’ll see if we can support Lazarus’s claims with the arguments Parkinson has made to refute him. 

Let’s begin with Lih. While Lih stresses that Lenin’s text is very much in-line with Erfurtian convention, he also clearly states that the fifth and final chapter of WITBD centers on Lenin’s original idea: that a unified Russian party can be constructed through “the nation-wide underground newspaper.” Lest I be accused of misinterpretation I will quote two passages from Lih’s Lenin Rediscovered in their entirety:

The newspaper plan was Lenin’s baby – his own original idea, one that he had laboured long and hard to bring to fruition. His ambitious dream that a nation-wide underground newspaper could galvanise Russian Social Democracy into effective and unified action is here supported with a great deal of ingenuity.51

As Liadov argues, the distinctive dilemma facing Russian Social Democracy was that separate underground organisations that had grown up locally with roots in the local worker milieu had to somehow come together to create central institutions. Lenin’s plan is an ingenious strategy for getting from A to B: from a series of independent local committees to a set of central institutions with enough legitimacy to provide genuine co-ordination (Lenin has this situation in mind when he talks about constructing the Party ‘from all directions’).52

While a national underground newspaper is less exciting than protracted people’s war in the countryside, it nevertheless proved effective and correct. I take this to be a clear indication of Lenin’s singular role in producing the party, which along with the soviet, the organizational form that was “discovered” starting from the 1905 revolution and was absolutely central for Lenin’s conception of politics in 1917, can be understood to be the sites of the Bolshevik mode of politics. By no means was the creation of the all-Russian newspaper an obvious strategy for building the party. This is precisely why Lenin poses the question as the heading of section B of this decisive chapter: “Can a newspaper be a collective organiser?” In Lih’s commentary on this section, he shows that Lenin faced stiff resistance to this idea from Nadezhdin despite their shared goals:

Both Lenin and Nadezhdin want to organise and lead the assault on the autocracy, both of them feel there is vast revolutionary potential in the narod, and both feel that local organisations are the weak links at present. Nadezhdin’s proposed scenario is: the local praktiki organise the people, the narod, for an assault on the autocracy. The activity ‘cultivates [vospitat]’ strong local organisations which are then in a position to unify the Party. But, argues Nedezhdin, an all-Russian newspaper is not much use for the crucial step of organising the narod, because of its inevitable distance from concrete local issues and its ‘writerism.’ In contrast, Lenin’s proposed scenario is: use an all-Russian newspaper to cultivate the local organisations and let these newly prepared leader/guides go out and organise the narod.53

Now that we can see there is an empirically verifiable new idea in WITBD that was essential to the formation of the party, we are brought to yet another decisive point. This point requires that we contest what may seem like a more modest thesis: that there is no meaningful difference between the political thought of Marx and Lenin. This more reasonable thesis is defeated if we seriously consider an argument that Parkinson himself presents. In reference to Marx and Lenin, Parkinson argues that “the break never really happened in the first place. Marx himself fought to form the workers’ party in his own time and struggled within it for programmatic clarity. His own life was an example of the merger formula in practice. Kautsky merely systematized it and Lenin applied it to Russian conditions.” 

What is on the surface level an argument for continuity actually relies on identifying discontinuities. If there is no meaningful difference between Marx and Lenin in their political thought, if there is no break, then how could we put Marx, Kautsky, and Lenin into a series of neat successions? Marx lived the merger formula. Kautsky systematized it. Lenin applied it. These are three distinct moments, three different orientations towards the party in entirely different circumstances, and a continuity can only be identified through these differences. 

In addition to this point about continuity and difference, we are left with a puzzling question: How can Marx and Lenin have no meaningful difference if Lenin’s politics is inconceivable without Kautsky’s systemization of Marx? Here we see a striking problem for Parkinson: if there is an argument that Lenin did not break with Marx on the question of politics in a decisive way, then this is precisely an argument that a Neo-Kautskyan position would not allow us to make. If Kautsky is a central figure in the development of Marxism, then Lenin must have a meaningful divergence in his thought from Marx since Lenin’s thought is dependent on Kautsky’s systemization of Marx. But if Marx and Lenin do not have a meaningful difference in their thought, this would only be because Kautsky’s thought was irrelevant to Lenin’s development. Thus, a precondition to refuting Lazarus’s claim that there is a break between Marx and Lenin is a rejection of Kautsky. Given that Parkinson and Cosmonaut seem committed to a neo-Erfurtain project, a rejection of Kautsky to show that Marx and Lenin have no meaningful difference in their thought would be a very strange position to take up.

Partisan Conclusions

I would like to close with a concrete proposal. This proposal is the product of reading Lazarus and re-examining Lenin and the Bolshevik mode of politics. I believe this proposal is both guided by Lenin’s subjective practices while also resistant to a mechanical imposition of historical forms of organization.

At a recent CPGB event, I was very heartened to see Parkinson advocate for Marxists to join DSA. I agree with Cosmonaut’s mission statement that we need more lively discussions and study outside of the academy. I believe that DSA is currently the best site for continued discussion, study, and experimentation for the Marxist left in the US. I say this knowing full well the organization’s limitations. While DSA can be a difficult place for a number of reasons, I do not think it can be abandoned.

The recent announcement of the Partisan project, a joint publication between San Francisco’s Red Star, NYC’s Emerge, Portland’s Red Caucus, and the Communist Caucus, is immensely encouraging. I welcome the creation of this publication as a step toward the formation of a consolidated Marxist bloc within DSA through which greater study, discussion, and collaboration within the organization can be pursued and relationships with organizations abroad can be deepend. While the caucus paradigm has been important to organizing and developing different tendencies, I believe the caucuses engaging in the Partisan project are correct to be working together more closely. I suggest this work be taken further so we can overcome the various points of unity within DSA that actually limit the degree to which our forces can be consolidated to combat liberals and wreckers within the organization. It seems to me that the notion of partisanship could be a particularly effective organizing principle in forming such a Marxist bloc. I am thinking here of Gavin Walker’s assertion that “the party means to choose a side, to uphold the concept of antagonism, to emphasize that antagonism cannot be avoided without denying the basic politicality of social life.”54

A diversity of views consolidated around core partisan commitments can be the basis for greater collective study, discussion, and experimentation. The Partisan project seems like the best existing vehicle to drive this consolidation, since it is already a formalized partnership between different tendencies. Crucially, it is still a new project that is presumably still figuring out its direction.

While I am unaffiliated with these caucuses and Partisan, I do want to make a recommendation. I propose that Partisan invite other national and local Marxist caucuses, as well as other Marxists and left publications inside and outside of DSA, including comrades abroad, to join the Partisan project. This could be initiated with scheduling an open meeting on Zoom. This open meeting could be called by the Partisan editorial collective to discuss recent articles that have been published in the Partisan journal and beyond with the goal of meeting regularly to develop and explore collective lines of inquiry and practical experimentation. All of this seems in line with the current language of the Partisan project.55

To be more prescriptive, I would suggest that this project concern itself with subjectivization, rather than “building the party.” In my opinion, the party makes it harder to see the tasks before us; the party locates the forms of organization we need now in the future. Without trying to be exhaustive, I believe we should be less concerned with programs and discipline, and more interested in formulating shared partisan commitments that are capable of supporting a diversity of views while fiercely opposing neutralizing tendencies that seek to collaborate with Democrats and generally maintain mass depoliticization. We should emphasize our current need for the collective study necessary to ask each other better questions, rather than attempt to educate others with inadequate answers. In my opinion, we should give up the notion of “leadership” and instead develop positions of partisanship. This includes combatting the liberal establishment’s call for unity–already the apparent motor of the Biden administration–and insist on division from within the sites where people think. 

Extending the Partisan tendency would allow us to construct an organization of militants from within our existing 90k member organization of “official socialist organizers.” To do this without reference to the party would allow us to pursue the collective subjectivization required to construct and advance an emancipatory politics at a distance from the state. While confronting the state will be inevitable, we are currently not in any way equipped to do so. This includes sending our forces “behind enemy lines” to hold elected office or using the publicity of elections to build an organization. Nevermind the fact that an emancipatory politics cannot be reconciled with managing capitalist exploitation and ecological collapse, the prerequisite to utilizing the spectacle of elections and other political institutions, the prerequisite to entering the structure of so-called representative democracy, is a committed core of militants. This is something we simply do not have, but it is something we can create. To suggest otherwise–to say that we do not need a committed core or that one currently exists–is to argue that opportunism is a substitute for politics and that politics must be synonymous with power. Similarly, if our problem is fragmentation, then a growth in membership exacerbates this problem rather than solves it. Ultimately, we must stop attempting to validate our movement through electoral success and paper membership. We must construct our politics on our own terms. It is the fact that these terms cannot be reconciled with the existing order that makes them politics.

As I believe Parkinson said during his discussion with the CPGB, right now we do not need to go to the masses. This is counter-intuitive but it is true. The immediate task is consolidating our forces to determine our commitments so we can give people something new to think about: the thought of politics. And this politics will only be something worth thinking about if it says that everyone has the capacity to think and self-govern. That everyone has the capacity to decide and that we will come together as equals to do what we are constantly denied. We will make a decision.

Advancing the Partisan tendency in the present by consolidating a Marxist bloc seems the best available path to producing an emancipatory movement. It is an insistence on what is partisan, on what divides, that makes possible the collective decision to end capitalist exploitation, ecological armageddon, and mass depoliticization. We cannot wait for liberals to agree with us. We cannot wait for the streets to fill or for a sufficient number of socialists to take office. We cannot wait for exploratory discussions to produce a pre-party organization and for the pre-party organization to produce the party and for the party to develop a revolutionary consciousness in the masses so we can be in the correct position in a revolutionary situation to engage in the art of insurrection. We must organize now. We must consolidate now. We must advance our position from the premises already in existence. This begins with collectively posing the question of the subject in the present, rather than calling for a future party.

 

Escaping the Labour Left ‘Safety Valve’: Towards Dual Power in Britain

Is the UK Labour Party a possible vehicle for working-class emancipation? Alfie Hancox argues in the negative, posing the regroupment of communists independent of the Labour Party as an alternative. 

‘The belief in the effective transformation of the Labour Party into an instrument of socialist policies is the most crippling of all illusions to which socialists in Britain have been prone.’

 Ralph Miliband, ‘Moving On’ (1976)

Regroupment on the left

After five years of being swept up in Corbyn mania, socialists in Britain are faced with a rather dismal balance sheet. In retrospect a defining feature of the Labour left revival was its relentless draining of grassroots activist energies in the service of a permanent campaign footing, along with a collective biting of tongues while Labour councils across the country continued to implement cruel austerity measures. Corbyn’s perpetual compromises, not least on the issues of NATO imperialism and racist immigration controls, were blithely accepted on pragmatic grounds as sacrifices necessary for electoral success. A year has now passed since Labour’s general election defeat and the party’s subsequent reversion to Blairism, but parliamentary maneuvering continues to occupy center stage in socialist discourse. At a time of accelerating inequality which demands working-class unity against the capitalist onslaught, the left remains aimless and fragmented. There’s been worryingly little organized opposition to Tory wage freezes, the crackdown on trade union rights, and cuts to the health and social care sectors, which have had lethal consequences in the viral pandemic context.

There has nevertheless been some shakeup and rethinking within the radical left milieu, facilitated by the exoduses in 2013 in response to sexual violence cover-ups in the Socialist Workers Party (SWP) and the Socialist Party (formerly Militant), as well as smaller splits from several nominally-‘Communist’ groups from 2016, in response to extreme anti-LGBTI+ attitudes (especially transphobia), national chauvinism and abuse apologia. The reconfigurations have led to networks of socialists which tend to be younger and socially progressive, committed to organizational democracy, disillusioned with the monomania of electoral ultimatums, and more attuned to the realities of working-class precarity. It is these issues that comprise the most significant fault lines within the left, rather than the old sectarian divisions inherited from the Cold War era. Among the new formations are Revolutionary Socialism in the 21st Century (rs21), formed by ex-members of the SWP, which defines itself as ‘a socialist, feminist and anti-racist organization’; Red Fightback, a non-dogmatic and intersectional communist (‘Marxist-Leninist’) group; and Anti*Capitalist Resistance (a recent merger of Socialist Resistance and Mutiny). There is also a more diffuse extra-parliamentary left including collectives organizing against carceral and border violence, small trade unions representing precarious workers and migrants, and organizations in the autonomist and left-communist traditions like Angry Workers of the World.

In the immediate term, there is thus a need to crystallize through dialogue and pragmatic organizational unity a forward-thinking revolutionary socialist movement, rather than endlessly seeking, from a position of relative weakness, diplomatic fronts with reformist leaders in which political differences are submerged. The last thing that’s needed is more of the ramshackle broad left coalitions (the Socialist Labour Party, Respect, Socialist Alliance, Left Unity etc.) which have invariably sought to ‘replace New Labourism with one or another version of old Labourism.’ Conversely, attempting to construct in splendid isolation new ‘vanguard parties’, based on fetishized notions of ideological unity in lieu of mass roots, will simply reproduce the old harmful patterns of sectarianism, abuse, and political irrelevancy. There may be scope for the progressive socialist networks to coalesce around a minimum revolutionary programme, purposefully differentiated from the moderate state-capitalist policies of the Labour left – i.e., a reassertion of the traditional communist united front approach.

In North America, the Marxist Center ‘base building’ initiative, for all its limitations (some of which are discussed below), has succeeded in bringing together socialists from an unprecedented number of tendencies, and represents ‘a serious commitment to centering revolutionary praxis above leftist infighting and bickering.’ The embryonic British Marxist Centre should aspire to fulfil a similar function. It can draw inspiration from the example of the foundation of the original Communist Party of Great Britain one hundred years ago, which brought together surprisingly divergent forces including syndicalists, ‘left communists’, anti-colonial militants and British Bolsheviks, with the shared aim of approaching a critical mass of committed revolutionaries necessary to have a qualitative impact on the class balance of forces in the country. As Sai Englert stresses in his thoughtful ‘Notes on Organisation’, any attempted construction of a new socialist unity must simultaneously acknowledge ‘that rejecting the old divisions that have plagued the socialist left will not make important political differences disappear … the aim should be to achieve practical unity wherever possible, while maintaining political tension and disagreement.’

We’re at a historical flashpoint with world capitalism slipping ever deeper into systemic crisis, which makes it all the more pressing to re-establish a strategic orientation towards building counter-power and planting deep roots in working-class communities, rather than hedging all our bets on the next election cycle. Conceptual clarity on the specific nature and role of the ‘left-wing’ of reformism is critical, in light of the organizational setbacks that occurred during the Corbyn years. The euphoria at the surprise 2015 breach in the neoliberal status quo meant there was no sober assessment of the politics of the Labour left, and the moderating role it has historically played in relation to working-class struggle. Of specific relevance for the Marxist Centre project, it is also important to avoid the temptation of viewing community organizing as in itself some kind of shortcut out of the pitfalls of gradualism and opportunism. Political lines of demarcation remain necessary to prevent base building from becoming just another avenue of front work for reformist politicians, a problem which has arisen in the US context in relation to the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA).

The terminal sickness of Labourism

Decades of normalized despair under neoliberal hegemony blindsided the extra-parliamentary left to the treachery of social democracy, or what the New Left theorist Ralph Miliband referred to as the ‘sickness of Labourism’.1 As Carson Rainham notes in The Lever, ‘the energy poured into the Labour Party since 2015 by the radical and liberal Left felt necessary but only because it arose from the desperate state of the left-wing politics in Britain which still lacks any semblance of political power or organisational method.’ The ‘cult of non-personality’ that grew around Corbyn obscured how he was propelled to the Labour leadership upon a groundswell of existing anti-austerity sentiment, which was subsequently demobilized by being redirected into electoralism. Even Plan C, a libertarian-communist organization, ended up encouraging its supporters to cast their votes for old Labour-style state ‘socialism’. The myopic obsession with parliamentary activity lingers on, with groups like Socialist Appeal calling for continued agitation inside Labour to get Corbyn reinstated as an MP. The prevailing view that we must abstain from criticizing Corbynism for fear of strengthening the Labour right is precisely the outlook that maintains the British left’s eternal farce, of assuming the end goal of a ‘socialist’ Labour government justifies the most self-defeating means: permanent class collaborationism, equivocations and lesser evil-ism, betrayal of proletarian internationalism, and the erasure of ‘left’ reformists’ longstanding occupation as unwitting agents of the ruling class.

We need to be clear that Labour has never been a ‘centrist’ party like the German Independent Social Democratic Party (USPD), straddling a line between reform and revolution. Lenin correctly recognized Labour as a ‘thoroughly bourgeois party, because, although made up of workers, it is led by reactionaries, and the worst kind of reactionaries at that, who act quite in the spirit of the bourgeoisie’. A common mistake among British Marxists is to extrapolate Lenin’s point in “Left-Wing” Communism: An Infantile Disorder about the need for communists to agitate within conservative trade unions – which entails combating ‘spontaneous’ economism and sectionalism – as applicable to engagement with reformist political parties. Trade union officials are at one remove from the immediate class struggle, and under pressure from the rank-and-file can be forced leftwards and sometimes even be brought into confrontation with Labour governments (as during the Winter of Discontent in 1978-9). The Labour Party, however, was from its inception twice removed from struggles at the point of production.2

Strikers during the Winter of Discontent

‘Socialist’ politicians in Labour do not represent the working class; rather they have traditionally attempted to mediate between the conservative trade union bureaucracy and the bourgeois establishment. They remain committed to class compromise under the rubric of ‘national unity’, and do not side with workers against the capitalist state – the ruling-class dictatorship – which is why, despite their frequent radical phraseology and apparent conflict with Labour’s right wing (especially when the party is in opposition), they are routinely complicit in the crushing of independent working-class action. 

The Labour left is loyal firstly to the Labour Party, which is in turn loyal to capitalism. Left Labourites have no coherent ideology of their own; they live ‘in a dream-world in which block vote millions take the place of the flesh and blood millions outside the conference chamber and committee room, in which the radical policy resolution substitutes for the real struggle of class against class.’3 As Mike Macnair puts it: ‘The Labour left, to the extent that it remains within the circle of nationalism, legalism and class-collaboration, is umbilically tied to the right.’ The rapid adaption of the early Labour Party to the disciplinary operations of the bourgeois parliamentary arena effectively defanged an entire generation of radical trade union leaders. Upon being elected as Labour MPs, the Red Clydesiders who had once ‘struck terror in the hearts of the upper class’ displayed ‘but the palest reflection of that earlier militancy.’ Likewise, the Labour MP George Lansbury who made a name for himself in the early 1920s as the hero of municipal socialism, defying the punitive government attacks on poverty relief, had by 1925 put his hopes in electoral action and called off a strike by council workers.4

Marxists defending their political dependence on the Labour Party will inevitably refer to how in 1920 Lenin instructed the newly-formed British Communist Party (CPGB) to attempt to affiliate with Labour. However, this was a strictly tactical gambit, based on Lenin’s (rather questionable) assessment that Labour was still a flexible political federation, in which revolutionaries would retain ‘sufficient freedom to write that certain leaders of the Labour Party are traitors … [and] agents of the bourgeoisie in the working-class movement.’ In the ten decades since Lenin’s death, a defining feature of most ‘revolutionary’ groups in Britain laying claim to Leninist doctrine has been their replacement of Lenin’s tactical formulation with its ensemble of caveats, by a pursuit of strategic alliances with the ‘left-wing’ of (often governing) reformism, in which key political differences are submerged. Lenin had recognized the need to continually expose the brand of opportunists who ‘flaunt before the workers’ high-sounding phrases about recognizing revolution but as far as deeds are concerned go no farther than adopting a purely reformist attitude’; emphasizing how the capitalist class ‘needs hirelings who enjoy the trust of a section of the working class, whitewash and prettify the bourgeoisie with talk about the reformist path being possible, throw dust in the eyes of the people by such talk, and divert the people from revolution’. This duplicity was exemplified by the Labour pioneer (and Corbyn’s idol) Keir Hardie, a self-professed Marxist who could talk left when it suited, for instance claiming his party was ‘revolutionary in the fullest sense of the word’, while simultaneously reassuring the capitalists by stating that ‘it is a degradation of the Socialist movement to drag it down to the level of a mere struggle for supremacy between two contending factions. We don’t want “class conscious” Socialists.’ 

After Lenin’s death in early 1924, Leon Trotsky elaborated the analysis of ‘left-wing’ reformism in his writings on the ‘Problems of the British Labour Movement’ (1925-6). Trotsky was able to pinpoint how Labour lefts ‘reflect the lethargy of the British working class’, converting workers’ emancipatory aspirations into ‘left phrases of opposition’ that place no real obligations on the pro-capitalist reformers. He explained that the Labour left functions as ‘a sort of safety valve for the radical mood of the masses’, by channelling ‘the political feebleness of the awakening masses into an ideological mish-mash. They represent the expression of a shift but also its brake.’ This moderating role was apparent during the climax of interwar class struggle in Britain: the General Strike of 1926, in which several million workers struck for nine days, withstanding acute state repression, only to be sold out by the Labour and Trades Union Council (TUC) leaderships. While communists played a central role in the Councils of Action at the local level, the CPGB, under the direction of the Communist International (Comintern), made a crucial strategic error in failing to expose the reactionary role of the reformist leaders. This was despite the fact that the 1924 Labour administration had paved the way for the ruling-class reaction, by setting in motion the Emergency Powers Act enabling the government to use troops against workers.

The CPGB’s muted criticism of Labour was based on its desire not to alienate TUC and Labour Party ‘lefts’ like George Hicks and Albert Purcell. However, when the Labour Party headquarters spearheaded the anti-communist witch hunts in 1924-5 the foremost left-wing Labour politicians, including Hicks and Purcell, had sided with the right and backed the expulsion of CPGB members, while Lansbury denounced communist sympathizers as ‘wreckers’. It was only in the aftermath of the Strike that the communists issued a declaration pointing out that the left reformists ‘were only with the miners while it was a question of phrases and resolutions … When the crisis came they ran away.’5 The experience demonstrated that Trotsky was correct to recognize that ‘in certain circumstances, the Labour left was actually more dangerous than the out and out imperialists such as [Ramsay] MacDonald and [J.H.] Thomas in that they misled the workers, providing left cover for the right only to betray the workers equally badly when the crunch came.’ Trotsky also predicted that if the Labour left did get into power it would immediately capitulate to the right, and indeed when Lansbury inherited the Labour leadership in 1932 he pursued a policy of ‘MacDonaldism without MacDonald’, and blocked proposals that Labour-controlled councils refuse to enforce the draconian Means Test on unemployment relief.6

It must be said, however, that in subsequent years Trotsky’s analysis of Labour became rather confused. His politics were overdetermined by his break with the Comintern, after which he often mirrored its policy vacillations. During the Third Period (1928-35) when the Comintern’s foreign policy veered sharply to the left, Trotsky lurched in the other direction and eventually began claiming Labour was not a ‘bourgeois labour party’ (as Lenin argued) but ‘a workers’ party’ which should be ‘critically supported’ (including against the Communist Party!) because, unlike the governing Tories, it ‘represented the working class masses’.7 Trotsky also, like Lenin, harboured millenarian expectations that a general crisis of capitalism would engender the rapid demise of reformism, and as early as 1926 he claimed that ‘Much less time will be needed to turn the Labour Party into a revolutionary one than was necessary to create it’ – in hindsight a ludicrous statement that has nevertheless been seized upon by Trotskyist advocates of ‘entryism’ in Labour like Rob Sewell. Typically, the surviving Labourphilic Trotskyist parties today produce very selective agitational materials omitting ‘any of Trotsky’s extremely sharp polemics with his supporters on when to leave reformist organizations and of the opportunism of those who did not.’

The lack of conceptual clarity on the nature of reformism expressed by both the post-Lenin Comintern and Trotsky has contributed to endless confusion about the true role of the Labour left. The existing Communist Party of Britain (a splinter group that survived the original CPGB’s self-liquidation in 1991) laments the historical ‘predominance of the social-democratic trend over the socialist trend’ within Labour, with the latter supposedly being hostile to monopoly capitalism.8 Likewise, Socialist Appeal, a successor to the Militant Tendency, states there are ‘two Labour parties’ and that ‘The Labour Party’s right-wing always considered the Marxist left a threat to their pro-capitalist policies … It is no accident that Stafford Cripps [one of the founders of Tribune] was expelled at the Labour Party conference in 1938, and Aneurin Bevan had the whip withdrawn’. The reality of this supposed ‘Marxist left’ was less than heroic. Immediately after the Second World War the new Labour government-imposed wage constraints and efficiency measures in the nationalised industries, provoking a series of industrial disputes. From 1945-51, Labour declared two states emergency and on 18 different occasions deployed troops to take over strikers’ jobs. In secret, the government also revived the Supply and Transport Organisation, used two decades earlier to undermine the General Strike, with the active involvement of prominent ‘left wingers’ including both Cripps and Bevan, who sat on the Ministerial Emergencies Committee in 1945, and was briefly Minister of Labour in 1951. Even the champion of ‘democratic socialism’, Tony Benn, oversaw the closure of 48 power stations in defiance of the National Union of Mineworkers when he was Energy Minister in 1977-6 (he also signed a deal to extract uranium from apartheid-ruled Namibia).9 When it comes to the treachery of reformists it is useless to talk of ‘betrayal’. As the above historical overview has demonstrated, when it comes down to the crunch even the most ‘left-wing’ Labour leaders will sacrifice the working class on the altar of ‘party unity’ or ‘the national interest’.

Winston Churchill and Clement Attlee, 1945.

Miliband once observed that ‘people on the left who have set out with the intention of transforming the Labour Party have more often than not ended up being transformed by it’. For example, the post-war Communist Party dropped its programme for working-class revolution in favor of seeking ‘progressive’ parliamentary coalitions, and by the 1970s it had relegated its role to that of a think tank for the class-collaborationist policies associated with the Labour left’s ‘Alternative Economic Strategy’. Another extreme example of adaptation to reformism was the entryist Militant Tendency, which pursued a ‘legal revolution’ in the form of full nationalization. Entryism was born in the 1930s as a pragmatic response to the extreme weakness of Trotsky’s supporters vis-à-vis both communist and centrist parties in Europe. It was only meant to be a temporary measure carried out until the Trotskyists found their feet, although a desperate Trotsky certainly exaggerated the prospects for success. In its pursuance of ‘deep entryism’, Militant became politically indistinguishable from the Labour left whose coattails it clung to, and infamously wound up condemning oppressed communities fighting the police and army in the north of Ireland and Britain’s inner cities. As Trotsky put it, ‘even in the minds of “socialists” the fetishism of bourgeois legality [forms] that ideal inner policeman.’ 

A more subtle approach to Labour was pursued by the Socialist Workers Party, which adopted an ‘open party’ perspective that in theory preserved its political independence. However, the SWP’s economistic obsession with ‘workers’ self-activity’, inherited from its early pre-party years, created a tendency to gloss over ‘the political problem of how to break the hold that Labourism has over workers, and implies that bigger and better strikes and demonstrations alone will provide the solution to the question of working-class consciousness.’10 The SWP’s permanent slogan ‘vote Labour without illusions’ is rather more passive than Lenin’s call to support Labour ‘as a rope supports a hanging man’ (or the communist Tommy Jackson’s promise to take Labour leaders by the hand ‘as a preliminary to taking them by the throat’). In practice, the SWP has sought endless broad fronts with Labour lefts (e.g. the Anti-Nazi League and Stop the War Coalition) in which its approach is to ‘fudge differences by diplomatic agreement to windy generalities, [or] self-censor and thereby pretend that there is more agreement than there actually is.’ Donald Parkinson identifies a similar trend in North America in relation to joint campaigns between Leninist groups like the Party for Socialism and Liberation, and the reformist Democratic Socialists. Likewise, one of the founders of the US Marxist Center has complained of a tendency among the affiliated organisations to ‘just focus on local shit’ and avoid political struggle against the hapless left-liberal leaders of the DSA.11 

There is of course still a need for socialists to have some engagement with mass reformist organisations, and we can’t ignore the fact that Labour ‘could recruit hundreds of thousands of working-class members over a period of five years without ever turning these into active members’. But any such engagement must be aimed at crystallizing, not diluting, an unofficial Left Wing movement opposed to the social-democratic opportunism of the scab ‘soft’ left leaders like Corbyn and McDonnell. As Trotsky explained, ‘One must seek a way to the reformist masses not through the favor of their leaders, but against the leaders, because opportunist leaders represent not the masses but merely their backwardness, their servile instincts and, finally, their confusion.’ It is a shame that British Trotskyists have generally failed to heed their prophet’s own sound advice, that: ‘The Communist Party can prepare itself for the leading role only by a ruthless criticism of all the leading staff of the British labour movement and only by a day-to-day exposure of its conservative, anti-proletarian, imperialist, monarchist and lackeyish role in all spheres of social life and the class movement.’

Five wasted years

Since 2015, the left has been hamstrung by its failure to recall the painful lessons learned under old Labour. Corbyn’s ‘radicalism’ was severely overstated by both supporters and detractors, given that Labour had won office on more left-wing platforms in the 1970s. Corbynomics essentially presented a programme for capitalist growth based on technological innovation, with John McDonnell invoking ‘the Entrepreneurial State’ and ‘socialism with an iPad’. McDonnell quickly dropped his initial talk of nationalizing all the main banks, in favor of ‘people’s quantitative easing’ through a single state investment bank which, as Marxist economist Michael Roberts points out, is hardly extreme when there is already a European Investment Bank, a Nordic Investment Bank and many others, ‘all capitalised by states or groups of states for the purpose of financing mandated projects by borrowing in the capital markets’. McDonnell’s industrial strategy took its lead from ‘such uncompromisingly capitalist regimes as Singapore, South Korea, Japan – and most of all, the United States.’12 In any case state ownership does not amount to workers’ control, and neither does putting a few workers on company boards to involve them in the planning of their own exploitation.

Throughout the Labour Party’s history, a reinvigorated left-wing has served the function of successfully drawing disillusioned radicals back into the party’s orbit. To many ‘revolutionary’ socialists, the Labour left appears as a ‘bridge’ to the party’s rank-and-file; but as Miliband wrote the bridge ‘does not, so to speak, open out leftwards but rightwards’. The Bevanite politician Richard Crossman admitted the illusory character of democratic pressure on Labour, explaining how the party ‘required militants, politically conscious socialists to do the work of organizing the constituencies’; hence the utility of a party constitution ‘which maintained their enthusiasm by apparently creating a full party democracy while excluding them from effective power’.13 The same drive to assimilate and defang characterized Corbynism, with its notion of creating a ‘social movement party’ or what McDonnell described as ‘going into government together’. The grassroots anti-austerity campaigns that arose post-2010 were undermined when young socialists once again flocked into a Labour Party intent on implementing cuts at the council level. Corbyn supporters mourning the ‘inexplicable’ defeat of Laura Pidcock, the ‘anti-austerity’ candidate for North West Durham, at the 2019 general election were presumably unaware that as councillor for Northumberland she voted for £36m worth of spending cuts in 2017-20. In the 1980s left-wing Labour councils at least offered some resistance with their policy of ‘three noes’ – no cuts, no rent rises, no rate rises – although they were soon enough called to heel by Neil Kinnock.

Labour appropriates and disposes of activists’ demands as proves convenient: the Labour Campaign for Free Movement poured its efforts into securing a nonbinding resolution and was subsequently ‘betrayed’ by the 2019 manifesto, as was the campaign to get Labour to commit to net-zero carbon emissions by 2030. Corbynism even reinforced the passivity of left-wing trade unions like the FBU, which re-capitulated to their traditional ‘don’t rock the boat and ruin Labour’s electoral chances’ posture. Englert notes that investing all hopes and energies into the Labour left ‘leads activists all around us to pessimisms, demobilization, and/or – much worse – a moralistic sense of superiority that dismisses the very people on which the success of our struggles depends, as inherently reactionary, backward, or unorganizable.’ This accounts for the emotive social media displays of Labour canvassers lashing out at working-class voters in the wake of the December 2019 election.

The idea of a ‘democratic grassroots’ undergirding Corbynism was also frequently overstated. Momentum, led (and to a considerable extent owned) by millionaire-property developer Jon Lansman, was always relatively small, fractured and politically moderate. As Tom Blackburn writes in New Socialist, after ‘four-and-a-half years of acrid civil war, both the structures of the [Labour Party] and the political composition of the Parliamentary Labour Party remain essentially unchanged’; mirroring the failure of Benn’s Campaign for Labour Party Democracy in the 1970s, the error of which was to assume there was ever a possibility of democratization ‘in and against’ the capitalist state machine. As for the post-Lansman factions, they have all fallen into the trap of viewing ‘the causes of defeat in cultural or organizational issues, and refuse to acknowledge the real failure – a series of political errors’. The Forward Momentum splinter has committed to democratising a Labour Party in which the iron grip of Keir Starmer’s right-wing has been consolidated. As Richard Seymour points out, if what these groups want is a genuinely democratic Labour Party ‘they will be trying to bring about something that has never before existed, and which goes against all the dominant tendencies in parliamentary democracy.’14 

Socialist Appeal has boldly proclaimed that ‘Corbyn’s serious mistake was not to move immediately after his election to purge the party of the right-wing Trojan horse in the parliamentary Labour Party’ – as if Corbyn (or any other left Labourite) ever possessed either the means or motivation to do so. Again, this framing is part of the eternal Labour left mythos, just like in 1988 when the Labour leadership contest between Benn and Kinnock (who paved the way for Blairism) was ‘portrayed by the bourgeois press and most of the ostensibly socialist left as a David and Goliath battle for the “socialist soul” of the party’ – upon his narrow defeat Benn and his followers of course immediately called for ‘unity’ with the right. Similar conciliatory attitudes were expressed by left-wing MPs when Corbyn was suspended in October by the Labour leadership, for pointing out the political motives underlying many of the allegations in the EHRC anti-Semitism report. McDonnell called Corbyn’s suspension ‘profoundly wrong’, but cravenly added that ‘my appeal is not the launch of some civil war or for members to leave the party … My appeal is for unity.’ Dianne Abbott likewise affirmed that ‘the priority right now for everyone in our party is to come together’, while another eminent Socialist Campaign Group MP, Nadia Whittome, stated she ‘cannot agree’ with Corbyn’s stance. 

Right-wing witch hunts date from Labour’s earliest days, initially targeting CPGB members. Cripps and Bevan were both kicked out in 1939 for advocating a Popular Front with the communists; however they soon gained readmission after agreeing ‘to refrain from conducting or taking part in campaigns in opposition to the declared policy of the Party.’ In 1961 Michael Foot was expelled from the Parliamentary Labour Party when he rebelled over air force spending, but two decades later, as Labour leader, he embraced NATO and backed Thatcher’s imperialist war in the Falklands. Corbyn himself has now put out a grovelling statement pledging to ‘fully support Keir Starmer’s decision to accept all the EHRC recommendations’ and to ‘do what [he] can to help the Party move on … and unite to oppose and defeat this deeply damaging Conservative government.’ Obviously, even the soft left should be defended against the forces of overt reaction – since as Trotsky noted, the ruling class’s fear is that ‘behind the mock-heroic threats’ of reformist leaders there ‘lies concealed a real danger from the deeply stirring proletarian masses.’ But at the same time we are not obliged to cover for reformists’ opportunist vacillations and self-delusions, which only helps them maintain their parasitic vice over the more politically-conscious sections of the working class.

Shapurji Saklatvala, Communist MP and critic of Labour’s imperialist politics.

All this is not to argue that anti-electoralism should be made into a dogma. Under certain conditions, the parliamentary arena can be weaponized by socialists for agitational purposes, as with Karl Liebknecht’s heroic stand against the imperialist First World War in the German Reichstag; or the fiery House of Commons speeches by the British communist MP Shapurji Saklatvala, condemning Labour’s ‘enlightened’ colonial policy. However in general when it comes to electoral work, the Comintern’s guidelines laid down at its Second Congress remain applicable, namely that communist MPs must ‘subordinate all their parliamentary work to the extra-parliamentary work of their Party’; and must not only expose the bourgeoisie, but also ‘systematically and relentlessly’ expose reformists and centrists – communist MPs are principally agitators ‘in the enemy camp’. The socialist movement firstly needs its own infrastructure and political independence, in order to be able to engage with reformists from a position of relative strength. As Macnair summarises:

‘Marxists, who wish to oppose the present state rather than to manage it loyally, can then only be in partial unity with the loyalist [i.e. reformist] wing of the workers’ movement. We can bloc with them on particular issues. We can and will take membership in parties and organisations they control – and violate their constitutional rules and discipline – in order to fight their politics. But we have to organise ourselves independently of them. That means that we need our own press, finances, leadership committees, conferences, branches and other organisations.’

Counter-power and the long revolution

The revolutionary left in Britain has lost its nerve and its capacity for strategic thinking. 

Intensifying inter-imperialist antagonisms and the climate crisis ensure an existential sense of urgency, but we can’t lose our heads and seek out revolutionary shortcuts, as happened with the Comintern in the turbulent years between the world wars. The economic conditions that enabled the ‘golden era’ of social-democratic ascendency are a relic of the past, but reformist consciousness does not mechanically disappear. Trotsky, in one of his more sober insights, noted of crisis-ridden Britain in the 1930s that ‘the political superstructure of this arch-conservative country extraordinarily lags behind the changes in its economic basis.’ Political tactics must be appropriate to the particular national conjuncture of class struggle. As against the CPGB’s Popular Front policy, Trotsky recognised that pursuing diplomatic unity with ‘progressive’ reformists and liberals as a preventative against fascisation was an absurdity that only weakened the position of the British working class, at a time of sharpening social antagonisms. The arrival of classical fascism is only possible after a ‘decisive victory of the bourgeoisie over the working class’, as in Italy and Germany; but ‘the great struggles in Britain [were] not behind us, rather ahead of us.’ In a context like today in which the fascist danger is ‘still in the third or fourth stage away’, Trotsky rightly argued that:

‘British reformism is the main hindrance now to the liberation [of the British proletariat] … The policy of a united front with reformists is obligatory but it is of necessity limited to partial tasks, especially to defensive struggles. There can be no thought of making the socialist revolution in a united front with reformist organizations. The principal task of a revolutionary party consists in freeing the working class from the influence of reformism.’

This is why uncritically supporting Corbyn at all costs as a path of lesser evil in the face of Tory savagery was self-defeating. Our strategic outlook should be that which would’ve been most appropriate for the CPGB in the post-1926 period of revolutionary downturn, namely a ‘practice based on attempting to build a solid, stable core of revolutionaries with an eye more for the horizon than for the next strike’ (or election cycle).15 Lenin explained how Bolshevik success in toppling Tsardom in 1917 owed to the fact that for many years legal and illegal networks and structures were ‘systematically built up to direct demonstrations and strikes’. The problem is that in Britain today the culture and infrastructure of working-class resistance has been completely hollowed out, and needs to be rebuilt from the ground up. 

The idea of socialists getting rooted in working-class communities is of course not novel. The CPGB in the 1920s-30s managed to establish ‘Little Moscows’ in mining towns such as West Fife, Rhondda and the Vale of Leven: ‘The local Communist parties of these industrial villages were deeply integrated with every aspect of the community’s social life and culture as well as exercising their strengths in the workplace.’16 Agitation around wages, poor relief, and housing was coupled with the creation of red schools, sports leagues, and even music bands. There are a number of avenues today for building ‘dual power’ alongside the existing capitalist state, such as shop-floor committees, mutual aid societies, educational groups, trade and tenant unions, various anti-austerity campaigns, and migrant support networks. It’s also encouraging to see the emergence of new communist publications committed to producing analysis and theory that transcends the ossified twentieth-century dogmas of ‘official’ Marxism-Leninism, including Ebb Magazine, Cosmonaut, and The Lever. Dual power strategy should further address the role of working people’s councils at the district level. The surviving ‘Leninist’ parties in Britain have largely forgotten the need for independent working-class self-organisation capable of displacing the capitalist state machine, amounting to a paradoxical situation of ‘Bolsheviks without soviets’

While the necessarily protracted nature of building counter-power is clear, this does not imply a return to the pre-1917 Kautskyan gradualism that is currently being promoted by Marxist theorists in the DSA including Eric Blanc. For ‘democratic socialists’ like Blanc, the state itself is seen as a zone of class struggle autonomous of capitalism. Teresa Kalisz of Red Bloom, another US Marxist Center affiliate, has also recently advocated a path between social democracy and revolutionary insurrection by drawing on the writings of the late E.O. Wright, who called for socialists to ‘control the capitalist state apparatus (or at least parts of it) and to use that apparatus systematically in the attack on capitalist state power itself.’17 The problem with this argument is that once within the existing state machinery, political organisations (like Labour) are ‘bound by thousands of threads’ to the dictates of capital accumulation and the reactionary governing bureaucracy, as the entire history of democratic socialism in practice has demonstrated. And behind the trappings of bourgeois parliament and the entrenched state bureaucracy as the first line of defense against working-class insurgency, there still stand the forces of the courts, police, and military – ‘the “bodies of armed men” which guarantee the power of the state whichever government is nominally in office.’18 The capitalists will never willingly give up power, and as Sophia Burns puts it socialism ‘isn’t a gradual process where reforms (or mutualist co-ops!) stack on top of each other until one morning, you wake up to find that capitalism is gone.’ There remains the inescapable question of the point of total rupture, or insurrection, beyond dual power to the replacement of the capitalist dictatorship with a workers’ government. 

As capitalist violence is centralized through the state and cannot just be dismantled at the local level, there is still a need for some kind of general revolutionary (i.e. not broad left) organization on a national basis – an independent workers’ party. The American Marxist Center provides a useful model in bringing regionally-dispersed dual power initiatives together in a shared network, and enabling socialists of various leanings to begin to identify strategic points of unity. Ideally the British MC, in addition to foregrounding practical alternatives to parliamentary canvassing, will similarly function as a political centre that encourages dialogue between existing progressive tendencies. There is a pressing need to work towards a new socialist unity in diversity, in contrast to the ideological uniformity of the old sects. As Parkinson and Parker McQueeney have argued in the US context:

‘A party is simply an organization of political actors organized around a certain strategy and vision for change: a program. It is essential that the Marxist Center does not become another micro-sect that clings to a certain theoretical vision of Marxism with a priori shibboleths that define the group’s politics, whether Marxist-Leninist, Trotskyist, left-communist, etc. The organization must be internally democratic and oriented towards building working class political power independent from the bourgeois parties. Without this, any debates over the correct political line, while potentially useful intellectual exercises, will be effectively pointless.’

As suggested in the beginning of this article, there is in Britain a socialism that is dying and a socialism that must be reborn. In the first instance, however, this necessary regenerative process can only materialise through the recognition that the bourgeois Labour Party – ‘left’ flank included – never was and never will be anything but a brake on working-class liberation. The rupture in the oppressive logic of capitalist realism which 2015 heralded was of course itself extremely significant, and as the editorial collective of The Lever state:

‘Our task now, is not to let the dreams of emancipation which fuelled the Corbyn movement wither in defeat. We must steel ourselves, and divert these energies into building real counter-power, into long term revolutionary institutions, to re-build a base for an emancipatory politics, and one that can be lead into a revolutionary confrontation with the current system.’

Disarming the Magic Bullet

Renato Flores responds to Cam W’s argument for Maoism and the mass line. 

Global warming is progressing. Millions are going hungry and do not know whether they can make the next rent payment. The houseless crisis is intensifying. We know we cannot just stand by, and we have to do something. But how do we do something, how do we slay the monster? How do we become free? It is not going to be easy. Everyone has ideas, some more or less thought out than others. What is clear is that we need a plan, and we need one fast, or the monster will devour us all.

In Cosmonaut, we wish to have an open forum for debate, where these ideas can be shared and discussed. Three contributions have been published, with responses, counter-responses and synthesis. This piece is meant as a (short) reply to Cam’s intervention on the debates around the party form started by Taylor B’s piece “Beginnings of Politics” and Donald Parkinson’s piece “Without a party we have nothing”. Cam’s intervention is heavily influenced by, and largely follows Joshua Moufawad-Paul’s (JMP) ideas on how Maoism has been historically defined, what problems it is responding to, and how it must be applied today. Cam’s main thesis is that Maoism, being the only ideology that has correctly absorbed the knowledge produced by the learning process of the Paris Commune and the Russian and Chinese revolutions is uniquely poised to provide an answer to the problem of the party. And that answer comes in the shape of the mass line, which is “a mechanism to transform the nature of the party into a revolutionary mass organization which can resist the neutralizing force of the party-form”.

I take issue with this last statement, and that is what I will try to elaborate on in this article. I start by agreeing with Cam that we must emphasize the points of both continuity and rupture of our revolutionary process. But I diverge from him in seeing the evolution of Marxism as something much more complicated than the picture drawn by JMP. Indeed, in 2020, the experiences of revolutionaries both in overthrowing the old state and in running a new revolutionary state can fill entire libraries. We know much more about what to do, and especially what not to do, than we did in Marx’s time. However, the process through which knowledge has been accumulated and synthesized cannot be reduced to a single path of advancement of the “science of revolution”. By doing this, we risk ossifying slogans, and allowing spontaneity to fill in the gaps, harming our organizing. The picture painted by Cam, which is inherited from JMP, suffers from the same problems Donald is replying to in his piece: a simple periodization is being imposed into a complex process of knowledge production. This periodization is then used to make a dubious point, namely that through an event a lesson was learned that marks the death of a paradigm and the birth of a new one. Everyone stuck in the previous paradigm is at best naive and at worst, unscientific. This is an extremely loaded word that produces a hierarchy of power: my theory is more powerful than yours because it is scientific. No burden of proof is necessary, because I am being scientific and you are not. I have successfully absorbed the lessons of history while you haven’t.

To begin to deconstruct the claim that Maoism is the highest paradigm of revolutionary science, we have to understand that one of the axioms on which it stands is flawed, namely that progress is linear and happens through a single path. Biology and evolution provide a practical counter-example. In a very simplified manner1, organisms face a problem, the environment, and try to find a solution through adaptation. Faced with similar environments, organisms will find similar solutions, even when they are in geographic isolation.2 This is called convergent evolution, and there are many examples in Nature. Bats and whales both evolved the ability to locate prey by echos as an adaptation to finding food in dark environments. Wings have been evolved by pterosauruses, birds and mammals separately. Silk production appeared separately in spiders, silkworms and silk moths. In a similar manner, some characteristics can be devolved. For example, some species of birds have lost the ability to fly after having gained it. It is not correct to view organisms as more evolved, as if evolution was something that accumulates.

In the same manner, progress in all branches of science is far from neat and linear. Geniuses have been forgotten or dismissed for centuries just to be rediscovered. Dead ends are often reached which require looking back into the past to reinvigorate theories that were previously thought dead. More importantly, co-discoveries happen, and happen often. Wallace and Darwin both came to the theory of evolution. Newton and Leibniz both developed calculus. In both of these cases, the co-inventors were resting on similar theoretical knowledge and facing similar questions. It is therefore unsurprising that they would come to the same solution. Even more, scientists working within very different paradigms, say like Mach and Boltzmann, were both able to contribute immensely to the field of physics despite working from vastly distinct starting points. 

Going back to the revolutionary movement, our theory and our practice have been developed to surpass obstacles in our liberation. Even if these obstacles are not identical, they have been very similar. In the same manner as biological evolution, the science of revolution develops very similar solutions to address the problems revolutionaries face. We should expect that similar ideas will arise from similar contexts, a convergent evolution of tactics. From experience, the more scientists independently arrive at the same conclusion, the more likely that this conclusion is correct. In this context, Donald is correct to emphasize Lenin’s unoriginality. Like scientists, practitioners of revolutionary politics are faced with questions that they must answer, both before, during, and after seizing power. They learn from each other, and try to apply the common mindset to their local conditions. 

If one revolutionary movement progresses and breaks new ground in the process to establish socialism, changes in the environment give rise to new problems that were previously not recognized. They might have seized power, but what now? As the Bolsheviks repeatedly pointed out, they thought building socialism was going to be easier than it actually was. Before the Russian revolution, Hilferding had stated that it would be enough to seize the ten largest banks to get to socialism. Hilferding, among others, believed that this was the great mistake of the Paris Commune, and if revolutionaries had just seized these banks, they would have been able to build a socialist system. But as we know, that was far from enough for the Bolsheviks. They did this, and much more. They were forced to continuously experiment, finding ways that could lead to socialism without losing the support of the peasants and workers. The lessons from Leninism cannot be simply reduced to the necessity of smashing the state: they are much more extensive and valuable than this.

In the same vein, the Chinese Revolution was a gigantic experiment in emancipation that involved old and new questions, with old and new methods to answer them. And Mao diverged from Lenin in many aspects. Mao’s theory of change outlined in “On Contradiction” is quite different from Lenin’s understanding of dialectics. The Maoist theory of New Democracy also diverges from Lenin’s ideas of how a revolution should proceed. It is hard to answer if they are improvements or regressions. It is probably better to say that the Marxist canon was enriched by both thinkers. 

Another example of returning to the Marxist canon and reevaluating or rediscovering old hypotheses can be seen in Kautsky, Lenin, Kwame Nkrumah’s theories of Imperialism. In his celebrated Imperialism, Lenin (rightfully) told Kautsky that the world was not heading towards an ultra-imperialist system where different imperial powers share the world peacefully—instead he argued that imperialist conflict was on the table. Indeed, Lenin was correct in that conjecture. World War I and World War II were both driven mainly by inter-imperial conflict.3 But after WW2, their differences would be sublated. A single capitalist superpower was able to set the rules on how the spoils would be divided. Nkrumah captured this in his Neo-Colonialism, basically rediscovering parts of Kautsky’s thesis and adapting them to the present. In this case, an exhausted paradigm was resurrected after significant adaptations were made.

You can see where I am going: it is impossible to lay out a simple evolution of knowledge for Marxism, with clean breaks from one another where knowledge only really had three leaps.  Mao was correct in saying that socialism or communism was not permanent in the USSR and that a reversion to capitalism could happen, but he was surely not the only one to note the problems of socialist construction in the USSR. Revolutionary experience has been accumulated, and it has, for better or worse, been synthesized by revolutionaries. There are points where synthesizers like Lenin or Mao have made key contributions that have left a permanent imprint. Lenin was able to stabilize a revolutionary state, which allowed further problems of socialist construction to be posed. Mao was able to mobilize the masses against a stagnating party, which opened the problem of how to deal with class interests inside the party, and how to open a public sphere in a socialist state. Rather than having done science, it is probably better to think of them as having set up the stage for the further development of scientific socialism. 

Whether Lenin and Mao were scientists or whether they set the stage for new science is a pedantic point— the important point is that periodizations of revolutionary science are not just meant to convey this, they are often used as discourses of power. When Stalin wrote “Foundations of Leninism”, “Trotskyism or Leninism”, or even the Short Course, he was not only trying to synthesize the knowledge gained from the construction of socialism in the USSR and set a roadmap for the future. It was an operation through which he declared himself to be the one true heir of Lenin and excluded others such as Trotsky or Bukharin. When the Indian Maoist Ajith wrote “Against Avakianism”, he was attempting to exclude Bob Avakian’s Revolutionary Communist Party from the mantle of Maoism. In the same way, JMP’s periodization is an attempt to claim for Maoism the mantle of the one science of revolution and exclude other Marxists from possibly contributing to this. But his claim ignores the complexity of knowledge development, something we have been addressing in this piece. Furthermore, even if one takes this periodization at its word, and we take Maoism to be a third synthesis, JMP’s periodization is not the only one in attempting to explain Mao’s epistemological breaks. Marxist-Leninists-Maoists—principally Maoists—who claim the legacy of the relatively successful Peruvian Shining Path, center Gonzalo’s theoretical contributions around People’s War in defining Maoism, rather than recognizing the Revolutionary International Movement (of which SP was a [critical] part) as the principal synthesizer of Maoism.4 

More importantly, why is Maoism the only ideology that can claim to have absorbed the knowledge from revolutionary history? In terms of seizing power, or battling the state to a standstill, what have the Indian Naxalites achieved that has not been achieved by others, as for example by the Zapatistas who started from different premises5 yet face similar material conditions of indigenous dispossession? Are the Zapatistas somehow less scientific than the Naxalites? Or are they responding to different pressures of dependent capitalism in countries with backgrounds of settler-colonialism and casteism?6 Is there really nothing the titanic struggle of the African National Congress against apartheid can teach us, when the pitiful state of the ANC reminds us of how the Maoist revolution in Nepal has become increasingly coopted? What about the many other names of the long list of Latin American or African revolutionaries such as Amilcar Cabral or Paulo Freire, that are written out of this evolution? The successes and failures of the Arusha Declaration and Ujamaa or the Yugoslav experiment in self-management provide way more data points that enrich our knowledge, going way beyond the MLM straight line periodization that only really joins three points and attempts to exclude everyone else. In this spirit, it is worth noting that geographically diverse groups such as Matzpen in Israel and Race Traitor in the United States independently developed very similar ideas on what it means to be a race traitor, and how settler-colonialism and white privilege work to stabilize society. 

Two-line struggles and “bourgeois” ideology

A periodization of history must be accompanied with explanations for the choices taken to divide one epoch from another. These divisions are usually used to give primacy to a political event or concept, after which one theory was proven absolutely correct and the other false. In the case of Taylor’s piece, he follows Badiou by stating that the Cultural Revolution showed that the party-form was an exhausted concept and brought forward the idea that new forms of organization must supplant it. In the case of Cam, who follows JMP’s periodization of MLM, the cultural revolution brings to the forefront the importance of the ‘two-line’ struggle and the mass line. Essentially, Mao reached a breakthrough realization: the ideological struggle between proletariat and bourgeoisie continued in socialism, and (a part of it) happened within the Communist party in the shape of a line-struggle. Stalin was wrong to declare that the USSR had achieved communism, and that this process could not be reversed. Indeed, capitalist roaders inside the party could reverse it and we have to struggle against them, and with the masses. A party which is properly embedded in the masses can successfully struggle against those who would reverse the revolution. And this is why Mao called for the Cultural Revolution: to rebuild those links between party and masses, and to battle the propagation of capitalist ideas in the party. 

This framework is very appealing. It explains the restoration of capitalism in the USSR and China: the bourgeois wing of the party gained power because it was never defeated, despite the Cultural Revolution. It offers a simple and comforting answer to the question of socialist construction: just struggle hard enough against the capitalist roaders. It sounds a lot like a Manichean struggle for the world, and is especially well suited to an American mindset which is based on binaries. But while there definitely are undesirable elements within all Communist parties (just think of Yeltsin or Milosevic) the two-line struggle is a gross simplification that collapses all of the problems of revolutionary science into something that looks a lot like a magic trick: the masses will redeem us if we struggle with them. The whole problem of societal management, both politically and economically (which usually go together) is not a struggle between good and evil. It is the problem of how to control a totality, which risks becoming dysfunctional at places where faults happen, be it either improperly balanced alliances between classes such as the peasantry and the proletarians, existing monopolies on resources like technical skills, or sites of power which reproduce antisocial ideology. Mao was correct to identify some problems as originating from capitalist values and beliefs, which originate and are replicated from the existing conditions and require a cultural revolution to solve. But all of these problems cannot be all cast as bourgeois or capitalist, even if their sources come from constructing socialism on top of a capitalist society.7 By taking this simplification we risk allowing spontaneity to creep in in all places and hoping that high spirits will solve things for us.

 

There is an in-jest comment that asks: tell me which year you think the Russian Revolution was defeated and I will tell you which tendency you belong to. Was it with War Communism? Kronstadt? The disempowering of the Soviets? The retreats of NEP? Rapid and often brutal collectivization? The purges that destroyed the Old Bolsheviks? Kruschev’s or Kosygin’s reforms? Were Gorbachov’s efforts doomed already or did he make serious blunders along the way? Worse even, did he sell the USSR out for a slice of Pizza? The bitter truth is there is no simple answer to when the USSR was defeated. There was a long list of decisions that strengthened some groups while weakening others, eroded the revolution’s mass base of support, slowly created alienated groups of people who felt displaced from power, and eventually created a stagnated, even ossified, society. No longer able to progress toward socialism, it disintegrated under pressure. Until we digest that tough conclusion we risk searching for magic bullets to solve all our problems. 

Seeking redemption through the masses is just one more illusion from a suitcase of quixotic tricks meant to bring us to socialism. Even if it is pointing at a real problem8, the solution is little more than a slogan. The careful and difficult balancing act of institutional design meant to construct a system that would, among many things, grant political freedom as to everyone, abolish permanent managerial roles by ensuring that “every cook can govern”, and eliminate existing oppressive systems carried over from capitalism, is reduced to making sure the proletarian line is upheld by “going to the masses”. This confuses tactic and strategy, and allows ossification and spontaneity to creep into  all the missing spaces. Think about it for a minute. Some problems are easier to solve than others: if a local administrator is behaving badly and abusing their powers, we should discipline them through re-education or even removal. But what if they’re the only one in town that can actually run the irrigation systems? If they’re removed agricultural output will underperform or fail. If this administrator is reinstated, the masses, who are our ultimate allies, will feel betrayed. They didn’t fight a revolution for this. The administrator could feel justified in their privileges and try to go even further in their pursuit of even more privileges and power. But if they aren’t reinstated, the masses might go hungry due to crop failures, or freeze in the winter. Either way, they will be frustrated with the party. 

These sorts of dilemmas around specialists and local administrators were a repeated problem in many societies attempting socialist construction, including the USSR and Maoist China. Mao sought a solution through the mass mobilization of the Cultural Revolution. The first stage dispersed the agglomeration of specialists in the city by sending them to the countryside. This was meant to break their privileges and urban strongholds, and (re)rally the support of the peasants for the revolution. The declassed specialists would then participate in the second and protracted struggle of breaking the monopolies on knowledge by educating the peasantry and opening rural schools. By ensuring that the peasants were able to administer their own affairs as a collective, they would not be beholden to a single, and potentially corrupt, expert. Mao’s solution was implemented at a scale never seen before, especially in a country of China’s size and its deep city-countryside divide., But Mao wasn’t the only one to come up with this sort of solution to the specialist problem: Che Guevara tried to enforce a smaller-scale cultural revolution in Cuba to persuade managers and specialists to throw in their lot with the revolution. Other revolutions came up with their own solutions: the Yugoslavs had a persistent problem with managers monopolizing knowledge and tried to solve it through factory schools and deepening education—without forcing existing specialists to undergo a cultural revolution. This did not end well.

Another more complicated problem was faced by the USSR repeatedly during its history: what happens when the lack of proper food procurement to the cities forces the party to choose between extracting food by force from the peasantry or making significant concessions to it, either through paying higher prices or devoting higher investments. Which of these solutions is ‘proletarian’? The USSR was forced to constantly oscillate between disciplining the peasants by force and granting them concessions because it could not solely rely on the stick or the carrot. Neither of these can be labeled more ‘proletarian’ than the other. Especially when contrasted with alternatives not taken, which can be regarded as capitalist, such as the full liberalization of rural China in the Deng era.  

With this short digression, I hope to have laid out an important point: the working of a society is the working of a complex totality, where relations can become dysfunctional, threatening the whole. It is not (just) a matter of conducting line-struggles between “proletarian” and “bourgeois” lines. It is a matter of sitting down and diagnosing the system, understanding where the dysfunctions are, what groups they are serving or harming, and how the socialist construction can proceed by removing these dysfunctions. Politics is not a Manichean struggle. It is somewhere between a science and an art of organization. Compromises must be made, and we must constantly be asking how the power relationships in society will change if we are to undergo these changes. 

The successive educational policies of the USSR in the 1920s, meant to both democratize knowledge and improve production, ended up empowering a new class of “red specialists” who would control the party 30 years later. The Yugoslav experiment tried to disempower the federal state and empower factory councils to devolve power to the workers, but ended up empowering factory managers and creating a comprador class that would trigger a Civil War. The agricultural reforms enacted by the Great Leap Forward meant to increase food production but ended up causing a food crisis. The type of historical analysis we need is a tough one, but being honest results in a better framing of things which goes beyond simply good and bad lines, and higher or lower scientific tendencies, or who betrayed what revolution. 

Beyond the mass line: deciding how and where to struggle

The same framework, with some caveats, can be applied to formulate the principles of a revolutionary party. The party inserts itself in a capitalist society while simultaneously attempting to destabilize the capitalist totality and replace it with a new totality. 

How do we begin to construct such an organism? Cam’s suggested plan of action is taken from JMP’s book Continuity and Rupture:

The participants in a revolutionary movement begin with a revolutionary theory, taken from the history of Marxism, that they plan to take to the masses. If they succeed in taking this theory to the masses, then they emerge from these masses transformed, pulling in their wake new cadre that will teach both them and their movement something more about revolution, and demonstrating that the moment of from is far more significant than the moment of to because it is the mechanism that permits the recognition of a revolutionary politics.  

This poses several questions and problems, but the main thing is that we begin with participants in a revolutionary movement who are armed with theory that they take to the masses. 

The first critique of this position is that the party is seen as some sort of external agent, formed by intellectuals, who have acquired knowledge and will bring it to the masses. It sets the party aside, as the unique interpreter of Marxism, and the object through which the people’s demands are translated to communist ones. It hopes that with the bringing of theory to the masses, the party will transform itself. We can contrast this approach to the merger theory. In 1903, Kautsky wrote:

In addition to this antagonism between the intellectual and the proletarian in sentiment, there is yet another antagonism. The intellectual, armed with the general education of our time, conceives himself as very superior to the proletarian. Even Engels writes of the scholarly mystification with which he approached workers in his youth. The intellectual finds it very easy to overlook in the proletarian his equal as a fellow fighter, at whose side in the combat he must take his place. Instead he sees in the proletarian the latter’s low level of intellectual development, which it is the intellectual’s task to raise. He sees in the worker not a comrade but a pupil. The intellectual clings to Lassalle’s aphorism on the bond between science and the proletariat, a bond which will raise society to a higher plane. As advocate of science, the intellectuals come to the workers not in order to co-operate with them as comrades, but as an especially friendly external force in society, offering them aid.

The difference between these two conceptions is that the first pays little to no attention to the self-organization of the masses and the ways they are already resisting capitalism. It asks us to go to the masses, without specifying which masses and how to talk to them. The second conception is that of the merger, where the intellectuals come to co-operate with the workers and see them as comrades, inserting themselves into existing struggles and amplifying them. 

This difference is especially critical because it explains the way in which Maoists in the United States fill in their lack of clear tactics and strategy with spontaneity, leaving them lacking a clear plan, something they are slowly coming to realize. “Go to the masses” is left as a magic bullet. This raises the second problem: the identification of the “masses”. Cam suggests we start by “serving and interacting with the people”. A detailed study of the conditions of the people is a prerequisite of any revolutionary movement; just ask Lenin or Mao, but as with JMP, Cam grazes over the question of who the masses are that we are supposed to be interacting with in the United States. This is a question worth some reflecting on: the US is a unique creature in the history of the world. It is an advanced imperialist country, which leads to comparisons with Western Europe, but is also a settler-colonial society scaffolded by whiteness. It has a significant labor aristocracy who have much more to lose than their chains, and also has a significant surplus population that is easily replaceable and has little power to stop the monster.

Which groups are going to lead the revolution and which groups are expected to follow? How will hegemony over these groups be won? Essentially, who is the revolutionary subject in the United States? Who will bell the cat? Without making this explicit we run the risk of fetishizing the most oppressed subjects who unfortunately do not have the power to change the system. 

It is important to remember that Marx located the revolutionary subject in the proletariat because (1) he studied the workers’ self-organization, how they had the power to stop accumulation if they wanted to, and what they were capable of achieving under adequate leadership and structure, and (2) the proletariat had less to lose from overthrowing the system because it possessed nothing. It could only lose their chains. But as we well know, the proletariat in the centers of capitalism failed to revolt. The Paris Commune, which so enthralled Marx, would move East, and the working class of the capitalist centers was pacified at best, or at worst enlisted in imperial or fascistic projects. 

The cat would not be belled because some mice were getting good spoils. Starting with Lenin, there have been plenty of attempts to rationalize why there were no more large-scale revolts, like the Paris Commune, in the centers of capitalism. The labor aristocracy, understood as those who have more to lose than their chains, did not live up to Marx’s tasks. And if they are not willing to revolt and pick up the sword, who will then finish the job? This question is especially pressing in the United States, where capitalism is strongly racialized and where poor whites have been used to stabilize settler-colonialism for centuries. This is where the question of “who are the revolutionary masses” appears. Spontaneity fills in when the prescriptions are vague, which is why so many “mass line” organizations fall into a pattern of providing service aid, in the form of food or legal means, to the most oppressed in hope of activating them for the struggle. I do not wish to repeat a full critique of mutual aid that was already done in an excellent manner by Gus Breslauer. The two basic points are: people do mutual aid because it’s easy and makes us feel good, but in the end what we are doing is redistributing the labor fund and not threatening the state or the bosses in the process. Even if mutual aid can sometimes create useful auxiliaries, such as unemployed committees, they often cannot substitute for the main event. They also require massive amounts of energy and fund expenditures to keep alive, energy which could be spent more efficiently in amplifying existing struggles. We run the risk of burning resources and ourselves in doing something that does not center class struggle and is of minor use in fighting against the capitalist system. 

It is important to locate this new fetish with mutual aid not only in the realization that people are suffering immensely but also in the failure of locating a revolutionary subject willing to fight to the bitter end. Mutual aid attempts to activate the most oppressed layers in the United States, but Marx’s other principle still holds: look for subjects that have the power to change society, rather than just the most oppressed. We should be looking at the sites of class struggle that are actually happening in today’s world and how these can be amplified to throw the capitalist totality into disarray. For this, we could start by reading studies of material conditions, such as Hunsinger & Eisenberg’s Mask Off, in great detail. An important place of struggle in the US right now are the struggles around social reproduction, specifically those around housing, childcare, and healthcare. Teachers’ and nurses’ unions, as well as the tenants movement, are in the front lines of struggle, and they are hurting capitalists because they are breaking into the capitalist totality in a way food distribution among the houseless is not.9 

For some people, the natural starting place might be their union, especially if it is an active and fighting one. But for those who do not have that option, focusing on the tenants union movement allows us to connect to pre-existing struggles in the masses, amplify them, and understand their conditions in a very different way than food distribution does. Tenant unionism also provides us with targets that are actually defeatable, such as a local slumlord, which motivates our members, gives us publicity, and allows our organization to grow while further embedding it in the struggle. Other and larger targets can be tempting, but these are often heroic feats. The fight against Amazon, led by Amazonians United and other unions, is fighting an enemy at a scale much larger than what the proletariat is capable of organizing against right now. Their fight will be an extremely tough one, as the working class in the US (or even internationally) is still in a state of learning. Victories can be quickly stolen from us. For example, German workers defeated Amazon in Germany, so Amazon simply moved across the border to the Czech Republic, continuing distribution in Germany while avoiding their laws.

Conclusion

As mentioned in the introduction, we are in a seriously demoralizing moment. There is a rapidly changing conjuncture, where the pandemic and climate change fill us with urgency but make organizing hard due to increasingly scarce resources. We want to do something that is effective and brings liberation fast, but we are faced with the weight of the failures of the socialist movement, be it revolutionary or reformist. We want answers on how to do this and are attracted to things that do not sound that dissimilar to what we already know, or the ways in which our brains are programmed. 

JMP’s style of Maoism is particularly well suited to the American mind. It provides relatively easy answers and provides enough silences that we can choose to interpret in ways that are not dissonant with our previous mindset. JMP also borrows plenty of epistemological concepts from American Pragmatist philosophy10, such as how truth is evaluated through practice, which makes it even more amenable to the underlying concept of science already present in US society. JMP writes well and clearly and is very articulate in his interviews. Because of this, it is not strange to see him becoming increasingly popular for a younger generation searching for these quick answers on what to do. This Maoism can also claim the mantle of the few revolutionary movements which are still vibrant today: the Philippines and India, which gives us something hopeful to root for internationally— something not as stale as defending an increasingly capitalist China.

However, to develop a proper science of revolution for the United States, whatever doctrine we decide to base ourselves, has to be heavily enriched with anti-colonial thought. One of the referents of Maoism, the Naxalites in India. have not properly dealt with Adivasi culture, and have sometimes misunderstood the way it operates, facing local resentment and resistance.11 This should raise a warning flag on the operating methods of the “mass line”, where the party is left as an interpreter because of its knowledge of Marxism. Furthermore, Naxalites have not successfully linked their struggle with the struggles in Indian cities. A strategy that bases itself on the most oppressed in the US would surely face similar problems. In this respect, the Phillipino Communists do this linking much better, through the use of broad quasi-popular fronts. However, they also went as far as endorsing support for Biden in the last US presidential election. How to adequately interface with the labor aristocracy and win hegemony over them is going to be a gigantic tactical and strategic problem here. 

So to end, I am proposing we do not rely on slogans that can be ossified and filled in with spontaneity. We do not have a Yunnan to build a red base in the US, geography is not as favorable here. Our fight is a long one that will not be solved with tricks but will require years and decades of changing tactics and reevaluating strategies. In this spirit, Cosmonaut is an open forum where revolutionaries can talk to each other and propose ways forward. I know this contribution raises more questions than gives answers, but I hope it serves as a starting point for asking better questions. 

A Twelve-Step Program for Democrat Addiction

Jonah Martell lays out a twelve-step program for the Democratic Socialists of America to pursue a path of independent working-class politics. 

Civil War-era Cartoon, 1863. The Union fights off the teacherous Copperheads: Democrats who demanded immediate peace with the Confederacy.

Cheer up, comrades! It has been a sorrowful year for all of us, but the whole world has taken a beating—we’re hardly special. We will always have choices to make, strategies to explore, and opportunities to pursue. In this piece, I will do my best to illuminate some of them. 

We can transform our political prospects. But first we will have to transform ourselves. It is pointless to “keep fighting the good fight” if that means pounding on the same brick wall forever. We must rethink old assumptions and learn some new tricks. If we retreat into isolated local projects or blindly “follow the leader,” we set the stage for another defeat. 

Remember the Sanders campaign? Those months seem like a distant memory now. Bernie Sanders played by the rules of the Democratic Party, and those rules squashed him. Yet we have the power to write our own rulebook—not just by breaking with the Democrats, but by inventing a completely new way of doing politics. It is time to move past the obvious insights. Democrats suck; they are treating progressives unfairly; it is still a relief that Trump got fired. To do better next time, we must ask ourselves more difficult questions. The first one is very simple: who is “we?”

Who Are You?

Nearly every political argument invokes a “we,” a common group that should mobilize around something. Although this is useful for persuasive purposes, it can also muddy the waters. In the real world, there is never just one “we” that any of us belong to—no single collective agent. Readers of this article are presumably part of many “we’s.” 

Several examples come to mind. There is the George Floyd protest movement. There is also Bernie World: the massive network of people who supported the Sanders campaign. And many of us feel a certain kinship with all left-leaning people in America—with our friends who want some kind of welfare state, even if they lack an explicit political ideology.

Then there is a much smaller “we”: the American socialist movement. People who own the word “socialism” and take it seriously, without needing a “democratic” disclaimer in front (most of us are even fine with the c-word). We clump around explicitly socialist organizations—most often the Democratic Socialists of America—and we use the dictionary definitions. We actually want common ownership of the means of production and a new political system to make it possible. 

Socialists are a small but growing minority of the U.S. population. How should socialists handle being in a minority? One option is to embrace it, to turn inward and form angry little echo chambers that achieve nothing. Another is to bow to outside forces, watering down our beliefs in the name of “progressive coalition-building.” Both of these solutions fall short. There is nothing wrong with being in a minority, especially when your side has unique insights on how society works. What’s important is to be an outward-looking minority—a minority with a genuine desire for growth and a clearheaded awareness of its surroundings.

Where Are We?

One tempting idea is that the American Left is finished. With Trump out of office, the masses will become complacent, apathy will reign, and there will be no more appetite for political change. In such bleak times, this pessimism is understandable, but it’s also wrong.

“Don’t underestimate Joe’s capacity to fuck things up.” —President Barack Obama

Total nihilism about our prospects puts far too much faith in Joe Biden and the Democratic Party. The crisis in this country runs deeper than Trump. It began before Trump and will continue long after him. The public may want a return to normalcy, but that is just a short-term impulse. Biden’s party will be governing in the middle of a global pandemic and an economic recession. To govern alone, they will have to pull off an extraordinary political surgery: winning a Senate majority of one, voting unanimously to reform the filibuster, adding new states, and then packing the Supreme Court to keep their legislation viable.

Judging by their track record, are the Democrats up to this task? Are they capable of such ruthless political discipline? And even if they do accomplish it, will their leadership be ready to push through major reforms to help America’s struggling working class?

Perhaps Obama could make a few phone calls and threaten a drone strike on Joe Manchin. Otherwise, they will be governing at the feet of Mitch McConnell. Remember him, the Kentucky boy who looks like a turtle? That’s the man who will be holding Joe Biden accountable, not progressives. The GOP controls the Senate. It now controls the Supreme Court. It has ample weapons to impose a wingnut regime on America without Trump in office. Perhaps that is why they are refusing to wage an all-out war over Biden’s victory.

There will be no “bipartisan” healing, only stagnation and decay. When discontent resurfaces, multiple forces on the Left (not to mention the Right) will pounce to take advantage of it. One force to be reckoned with is Bernie Sanders, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and the rest of the left-wing Democrats in Congress. Because they will be locked out of Biden’s administration, they have nowhere to go but the pulpit. Their party is already eager to marginalize them, and they know the score. The planet is burning. Millions of us have no healthcare in the middle of a pandemic. Roe v. Wade may well be overturned, making abortion illegal for millions overnight and sparking massive upheaval. Every social gain of the past fifty years stands at the mercy of the Supreme Court.

Left-wing Democrats will have to change their strategy. Will they do so effectively? No one knows, and ordinary rank and file socialists should not rely on it. They are embedded in a coalition that prevents them from building a viable constituency. Our responsibility is to develop a more independent approach to politics, with or without their help.

To understand why, let us talk about redbaiting. It worked this year, both on the Left and the liberals (particularly in Miami). Socialism has a powerful appeal among downwardly mobile young people who escaped their elders’ Cold War indoctrination. For a majority of Americans, however, it remains a dirty word.  The Democrats stoked that base when they tarred Bernie as a shill for Castro. Then Trump took up where they left off, tarring Biden as a shill for Bernie, AOC, and a communist plot to destroy America. He and his party made a bet that even the most ridiculous lies would send the Right marching off to Valhalla. They bet right.

Thanks in part to red-baiting (not to mention race-baiting, jingoism, coddling evangelicals, and actually running an energetic campaign), Trump’s coalition turned out with millions more than they had in 2016. The Democrats lost seats in the House and didn’t win the Senate. Now the neoliberals are furiously blaming the Left. Representative Abigail Spanberger (D-Va.) has been particularly frustrated with her neoliberal colleagues for not repressing us hard enough. In a conference call shortly after Election Day, the former CIA officer had this to say:

“We have to commit to not saying the words “defund the police” ever again,” she said. “We have to not use the words ‘socialist’ or ‘socialism’ ever again.”

She may well be right. Censoring those slogans would be a smart tactical move for her party (not ours). But the Representative forgets three things:

1)  Socialists are here to stay and will not be shutting up.

2)  Left Democrats like Bernie worked tirelessly to turn out their constituencies for Biden. Despite the Right’s hatred of them, they played a crucial role in Biden’s victory.  

3)  Red-baiting targeted the Establishment’s weaknesses—not just ours.

That third point is counterintuitive, so it deserves some further context. Once again, the Democrats nominated an establishment candidate who set popular expectations as low as he possibly could. Why not fill the empty vessel? It made perfect sense for Trump and his allies to turn boring Joe Biden into a sinister communist puppet. The move served three basic purposes: stoke their right-wing base, pit the Democrats against their progressive wing, and avoid having to debate Biden directly because Donald Trump is an idiot. 

Debating Boogeyman Bernie was easy enough, but had Real Bernie been the nominee, the dynamic would have changed in some very interesting ways. Sanders excels at something that is invaluable for all political leaders: incisive messaging. Instead of promising nothing, he would have countered Trump’s red-baiting head-on by aggressively selling his ideas: “You’re damn right I support Medicare for All and let me tell you why!” Whatever the results on Election Day, his base would have emerged with hardened convictions and itching for a fight. 

A moot point of course: the Bernie constituency did not harden. Instead, it was defeated, co-opted, and now discarded, left to wallow in uncertainty about its future. Bernie lost because the Establishment rigged the primary—not with mail-in ballots and computer hacks, but with fear: fear of losing to Trump. Fear that Bernie accepted from the outset by promising his loyalty to any nominee and justifying his entire campaign by claiming to be America’s Best Trump Remover. Biden crushed that sales pitch the moment he cruised in with an orchestrated wave of big-name endorsements, signaling to all uncertain voters that the party apparatus was his. How could an open hijacker like Bernie be the Unity Candidate? The loyal crew rallied behind its captain and threw the pirate overboard.

Sold one-by-one, his policies were wildly popular, but bundling them together with a big red bow was too hard a sell for Democratic voters who feared Trump above all else. When Bernie lost the primary, he lost his podium as well. He spent the rest of the election shunted off in a corner, working quietly for Biden’s coalition to “save America” from total meltdown. There was nowhere left to go on the path he had set for himself.

How did that coalition treat him? Bernie wanted Medicare for All. The DNC Platform Committee would not even accept a universal program for children. In 1998, Bill Clinton called for lowering the Medicare eligibility age to 55. In 2020, Biden said “lower it to 60,” framing it as a generous concession to Bernie’s eager young whippersnappers. When Bernie delegates pushed for a move back to Clinton’s original proposal, the Committee shot that down too.

Medicare is for Seniors Only, and Biden has been quite firm on that principle. Nor was his public option a genuine concession. His campaign was happy to paste it on the website, but Biden played it down the instant Trump held his feet to the fire, claiming that it would only be a Medicaid-style program for the destitute.1

The American Left is being buried in coalitions that treat us like dirt. We beg them, appease them, and submit to their abuse. Then they still fail, despite all our efforts to prevent it, and each failure deepens our dependency on them. For decades, we have been hopelessly addicted to Democrats.

Let 2020 be the final relapse. We must be our own captains and build our own ship: a self-assured, self-reliant movement with no divided loyalties. A fearless movement powered by millions who cannot be cowed or manipulated. Millions who know exactly what we stand for; who are sold on both our policies and the big red bow that ties them together.

An independent, socialist, working-class party.

Who Will Build the Ship?

Such tired old words! They are usually where reflection ends, because they are infinitely harder to make real.

Will the Squad build the Ship? Will Omar, Tlaib, Pressley, Ocasio-Cortez, and the rest who won their primaries this year form a Democratic Socialist Party? Before socialists rush to take orders from them, the Squad’s track record deserves a partial review. They have:

    • Firmly backed Medicare for All (all of them).
    • Voted for a $2.7 trillion-dollar Pentagon budget (AOC, Tlaib).
    • Endorsed Bernie Sanders (AOC, Omar, Tlaib).
    • Endorsed Elizabeth Warren (Pressley).
    • Held a sit-in at Nancy Pelosi’s office (AOC).
    • Called Nancy Pelosi “Mama Bear” (AOC).
    • Called for defunding the police (AOC).
    • Held a photo-op with the NYPD (AOC).
    • Fired her chief of staff for annoying Democrats (AOC).
    • Slammed the Democratic Party as incompetent (AOC).

Suspend all moral judgments. Just ask from a distance: are these the actions of a disciplined socialist movement with a clear political strategy? Or are they the actions of a loose, informal circle of left-wing Democrats?

It is the latter, of course. Just like Bernie, members of the Squad are grappling with divided loyalties, balancing their genuine desire for progress with their obligations to a party that wants none of it. There has been much talk in DSA of launching a “dirty break”: having socialists run within Democratic primaries and one day splitting off to form a party of their own. But there is no evidence that anyone in the Squad has ambitions to do this. Unlike Bernie, they have spent their entire political careers working within the Democratic Party. Even if they do have secret plans, ordinary socialists are not privy to them and will have no say in how they play out.

DSA has thoroughly confused itself by viewing the Squad as its rightful leaders. A clear majority of DSA members want to chart a course away from the Democrats, but the Squad’s theory of change is based on “winning the soul” of their party. This is quite different from our mission to build an independent socialist movement.

If the Squad will not build the ship, then what about organized labor? If we stay patient and work hard within the unions, could they eventually toughen up to create an American Labor Party? Perhapsbut they will have us waiting for quite a while. For over eighty years the U.S. labor movement has functioned as an appendage of the Democratic Party. It has millions of members, but they are demoralized, dominated by stagnant leadership, and suffering from decades of decline. The Left certainly needs to rebuild labor, but trying to do so as isolated individuals is a vain abdication of responsibility. The Democrats have the labor movement in a political stranglehold, and to break it we must create a political alternative. Many times in history, it has been a left party that organizes and revitalizes the unions, rather than the other way around. Nor are labor-based parties guaranteed to be friendly to socialists—the purge of Jeremy Corbyn and the British Labour Left should give pause to would-be American Laborites. Enough waiting based on hypotheticals. The time for independent politics is now.

If we need an independent party now, then what should it look like? One option is to cast the net as wide as we possibly can. Throw the s-word out and join with every left-leaning person we can find to form a broad-based progressive party. The party could appeal on just a few policies that are already highly popular, like Medicare for All, and de-emphasize other issues that “divide us.”

It’s a tempting idea. Ditching socialism could take the heat off our backs and make growth much easier in the short term. There is already an organization that is trying to do this: the Movement for a People’s Party. Led by former Bernie staffer Nick Brana, it is determined to set up a “new nationally-viable progressive party.” It has recruited tens of thousands of supporters and an impressive lineup of high-profile speakers, from Marianne Williamson to Jesse Ventura. Running on a platform loosely modeled on that of Bernie’s 2016 campaign, it hopes to flip congressional seats in 2022 and win the presidency in 2024.

Although MPP’s ambition is admirable, the recent track record of “left populism” does not bode well for them. Populist coalitions boom and bust; they rise to power only to implement austerity; they speak in simplistic terms of “the People” and “the Elite” that impede more sophisticated class-based analyses. Their frantic rush for the presidency is quite unwise, as is their desire to conjure up an instant majority. Socialists would do well to remember the fate of America’s original Populist Party: cooptation in 1896 by a Democratic presidential candidate who adopted their demand for free coinage of silver.

Marxist political strategist Mike Macnair describes this impatient approach to politics as “conning the working class into power.” Karl Marx had similar warnings to his contemporaries in 1850:

[The faction opposing us regards] not the real conditions but a mere effort of will as the driving force of the revolution. Whereas we say to the workers: ‘You will have to go through 15, 20, 50 years of civil wars and national struggles not only to bring about a change in society but also to change yourselves, and prepare yourselves for the exercise of political power.’

Socialists should be gearing up for this long-term political struggle. We see the obstacles in front of us in a way that catch-all “progressives” cannot. Progressives hold a powerless but accepted niche within the American political system. It is easy for them to cheerfully dream of “taking back our democracy” and “advancing the American experiment.” Socialists have much weaker roots. Constantly derided as un-American, they are driven to question the dominant culture and the entire political system.

This political system is explicitly designed to “restrain the democratic spirit.” The president is not elected by popular vote. The Senate, with total control over cabinet and judicial appointments, vastly overrepresents conservative white voters, and its members serve staggered six-year terms. This is to say nothing of the Supreme Court, whose members serve for life and claim the right to strike down any legislation as they see fit.

The add-ons are helpful as well. Ballot access laws prop up an artificial two-party system, barring all third parties from meaningfully contesting elections. Millions of felons are disenfranchised. Gerrymandering and voter suppression are rampant. Virtually all elections are in single-member districts—winner-take-all.

“But the Founding Fathers intended it this way!” the conservatives screech when pressed for any progressive reform. “You can’t just change it on a whim!”

Meanwhile, they impose their own changes. They pack the courts, purge the voter rolls, and impose right-wing minority rule on the entire country. The Democratic Party will continue to submit to it for years to come because it is equally loyal to this tired Old Regime.

What is needed is not just a break with the Democrats, but a complete break in our way of conceptualizing political power. Will socialists continue to campaign for catch-all progressives, for left Democrats and marginal third parties? Or will we introduce something completely new and unprecedented to American politics—something that challenges not just the rules but the institutions that make them?

There will be no victory for the Left within the established constitutional order. It was designed to keep uppity leftists out of power. Conservatives know this full well. We will never win if we play by their rules. Our job is to develop a coherent strategy to attack their deliberately incoherent political system. A strategy based on incisive messaging, political independence, and a national struggle for power.

Just to be clear: from this point on, when I say “we” I mean DSA. For all its flaws, it is the flagship organization for American socialists. Where its competitors have three or four-digit memberships, its rolls will soon break 100,000. It is the ideal place to hammer out some kind of future for ourselves. 

No individual can do it alone. But just to get the ball rolling, I would propose the following:

A TWELVE STEP PROGRAM FOR SOCIALISTS

(To Break Our Addiction to Democrats) 

1)  Declare political independence.

Remember what Joe Biden said at the first debate to counter Trump’s idiotic redbaiting. He said “I am the Democratic Party.”Don’t hate him! It was true, and it was actually quite clever of Joe. He was leading a messy coalition and he stepped up to assert responsibility for it. With those words, he wiped out the Bernie movement and made it crystal clear what the Democratic Party is about.

Now, remember how Bernie countered his own redbaiters when his campaign was just getting started. He gave a speech about “what democratic socialism means to me.” Do you see the difference here? One man is speaking assertively about an entire political coalition. The other is speaking on behalf of himself to humanize the s-word and make it less intimidating. But in doing so, he is stripping it of any standardized definition.

Is socialism an organized political movement or is it a slogan, a vague personal philosophy? Right now it is mostly the latter in the United States. Popular understandings of the term range from “equality” to “government ownership” to “talking to people, being social … getting along with people.”

If socialism is no more than a slogan, perhaps we should simply abandon it. The entire point of sloganeering is to popularize unpopular ideas. When the slogan alienates people and has no substance, it is useless. 

It’s not quite that simple, of course. As conservatives love to say, we can’t erase our past, and picking a feel-good label for ourselves will not necessarily protect us. The Right will always be pinning the red bow on anything left of Mussolini. Just ask Podemos (and Joe Biden)!

Moreover, socialism is useful because it appeals to a critical target audience: young, downwardly mobile, working-class people who are already skeptical of American capitalism. Anyone can claim to be a progressive, from Maoists to Nancy Pelosi. Socialism is a knife that cuts us apart from the crowd; it has already captured the public’s attention. We just need to make sure that we cut ourselves into an organized political constituency and not a rebellious fashion trend.

DSA should act less like Bernie and more like Joe. It should step up and say, “DSA is the Socialist Movement.” When asked what socialism is, it should give a coherent definition. I will not presume to have a full answer here, but we should be clear that socialism is a mission to bring freedom and democracy to the working class—and that mission will require regime change. Moreover, because most self-professed socialists in America are also communists, perhaps we should be more straightforward about that when asked. A classless, stateless, communist society is our end goal—give or take a few generations.

That is how DSA should define itself publicly. It should also change the way it describes itself to members. It could put out a statement, even if it is completely internal, announcing that DSA considers itself an independent socialist party and expects members to conduct themselves accordingly. It will not have legal status as a party, but that doesn’t matter. Many American socialists, from Seth Ackerman to Howie Hawkins, have acknowledged the need for flexibility on this question. Because state governments dictate the structure of legally recognized parties, we should simply reject their regulatory frameworks and define for ourselves what a party is. Given the public’s understandable impulse to dismiss conventional third parties, we could continue to refer to ourselves officially as “DSA,” “the Socialist Movement,” or anything similar. Our actions will cement our political independence, not the formality of sticking the p-word in our official title.

There is nothing particularly misleading about this (if leaving out the p-word is opportunistic, then so was Rosa Luxemburg’s party). From a Marxist perspective, a communist party is a movement—a structured, organized, revolutionary political movement.2  Framing the party in these terms is therefore perfectly honest and acceptable. It would also subvert the shallow liberal conception of movements as flash mobs and Twitter hashtags. 

All of these maneuvers may seem pretentious and overbearing, but they are necessary. The Right and Center have no qualms about defining socialism for the public. They define it as “misery and destitution.” Nor are the Left Democrats afraid to advance vague, meandering definitions that leave the Right howling and the fence-sitters completely unconvinced. 

The momentum is with DSA. Even Trotskyist sects acknowledge this by routinely imploring DSA to form a new party that they can “affiliate” with. We have the power to step up and assert collective responsibility for the American socialist movement. It’s us, the Right, or the wavering politicians. Let there be no more talk about “What Democratic Socialism Means to Me.” From now on, the phrase should be “What the Socialist Movement Demands.”

2) Hold annual conventions.

This is a short point. For years DSA has held conventions on a biannual basis. Today that will not be enough. The United States has become rather unstable; conditions can change in a heartbeat and we will have to adapt to them quickly. To keep up with the pace of events, we should hold conventions every year, constantly reevaluating our platform and strategy.

3) Form statewide organizations.

What is the mourning cry of a defeated progressive? It’s this:

“Oh well. I’ll just get involved in local politics. That’s where the real change happens anyway.”

A noble thought; every one of us has had it at some point. Unfortunately, it reflects an unconscious peasant mentality. Giving up on large-scale political change, the progressive returns to their village to do what little they can.

“I would never challenge His Majesty the King. Better to cultivate my little garden.”

A garden is not an island. American cities have more autonomy than their counterparts in many other countries, but that is not saying much. State and federal policies shape every aspect of local government. They prohibit cities from requiring paid sick leave for workers. They require them to accept fracking within their boundaries. They force towns to base their speed limits on pre-existing traffic flows, ratcheting up car speeds and slaughtering pedestrians. 

When we confine ourselves to local politics, we become functionaries of the capitalist state. We also play into the reactionary old American idea that all problems are best solved locally, that large-scale social programs can never be trusted. We must build an opposition to the capitalist state at every level, and that means creating strong regional organizations. A DSA caucus called the Collective Power Network raised this point quite effectively in 2019. What they forgot to fully address is the appropriate scale for these regional entities: the state level. The Republicans and Democrats have their state parties. So should we. 

“But that’s modeling ourselves on the bourgeois state!” cry the anarchists. 

No, it is laying siege to the state. Our state chapters will run on simple majoritarian lines; they will not have Senates and Supreme Courts and Governors with veto power. What they will have is the capacity to run statewide campaigns and contest state policies that impact the lives of working-class people. They will also encourage local chapters to collaborate, improve outreach outside the big cities, and alleviate some of the burden on the national organization—which has been charged with the impossible task of managing 235 locals.

Admittedly, there are some sparsely populated states with very few DSA chapters, and in these areas statewide organization could be impractical, at least in the short term. A United Dakota, North and South, might make sense for DSA’s purposes. Fusing states for tactical reasons is perfectly acceptable; the only inadvisable move would be creating regions that cut states into multiple pieces, preventing unified statewide campaigns.

Although a national organizing drive would be invaluable, DSA’s local groups can take the initiative right now. There is already an easy, underutilized process to integrate DSA chapters. According to DSA’s constitution, just two or more locals may petition to form a statewide organization, pending approval by the National Political Committee and a majority of locals within the state. A similar process is available for locals seeking to form regional organizations. 

4) Nurture a committed membership base.

What does it mean to be a DSA member? One impulse is to make it an extremely demanding, prestigious title—the Navy SEALs of activism. In his classic text on Marxist strategy What Is to Be Done?, Vladimir Lenin called for a disciplined party of professional revolutionaries. Should American socialists aim for the same thing?

No, because for Lenin, ruthless discipline was a necessary evil, not a virtue. Russian revolutionaries operated in a Tsarist police state where the slightest misstep invited discovery, police raids, and mass arrests. The United States is in many ways shockingly repressive, but it is not a tsarist autocracy. In our context, socialists have much more to learn from socialist parties outside the Russian Empire that maintained more open membership structures. They cultivated mass movements—millions strong—to build a vibrant oppositional culture against capitalism. They offered social services, opened libraries and grocery stores, set up cycling clubs, choir societies, picnics and social outings. Germany and Austria offer intriguing historical examples. Today, Bolivian socialists are doing similar inspirational work.

But we don’t just have to look abroad. There are non-socialist, all-American organizations in the United States that show us what dedicated membership looks like. In 2015 the National Rifle Association had 5 million dues-paying members, and nearly 15 million Americans identified with the organization whether they paid dues or not. It cultivates group identity with a wide array of community services—including an official magazine, concealed carry insurance, firearms training for millions, and opportunities to join its 125,000-strong army of training instructors. 

Yes, the NRA is a reactionary, racist organization, riddled with corruption and now in decline. We still have much to learn from it (not to mention the churches that, for better or worse, provide millions of Americans with social services and community life). There is thrilling potential for secular left-wing institution-building, from tenant unions and worker centers to art circles and sports clubs. During the COVID-19 pandemic, hiking clubs and other outdoor activities could be a particularly powerful social service, breaking people out of their isolation and alleviating mental health burdens. 

These ideas go beyond feel-good charity work. They are structured party programs, designed to build a massive support base that can be deployed for confrontational political action. They will cost quite a bit of cash.

This brings us to a crucially important, non-negotiable element of dedicated membership: monthly dues. Dues are the life-blood of a mass movement; they foster group identity, incentivize recruitment, and provide the party with a steady, predictable stream of revenue.

But what about low-income, working-class people? Couldn’t dues make the movement inaccessible to them?

Quite the opposite. Dues can be tapered based on income, and studies show that the poor give a greater portion of their income to charity than the rich. Asking people to pay a steady monthly fee is much more reasonable than bombarding them with fundraising emails that endlessly scream “give, give, give!” Nor is volunteer work a more accessible basis for membership than dues. Time is money, and every hour that a person spends with us is an hour that they could have spent working an extra shift or taking care of their children.

Dues allow us to make reasonable asks of others and avoid activist burnout. We don’t guilt-trip the single parent working two jobs or the exhausted volunteer with mental health burdens. We say: “Don’t worry. Take a break as long as you need to. Just help us stay afloat and keep paying your dues.” There will always be varying levels of involvement, and not all of us will be red Navy SEALs. Anyone who supports our mission, votes for our candidates, and pays their dues deserves to be called a member of the Socialist Movement.

We must still take measures to promote membership engagement. Only active members should get a vote in party affairs, and we should encourage all members to come to at least a few key events every year. All chapters need a point person to welcome newcomers and help them forge connections with other members, preventing locals from becoming insular social clubs. We will offer engaging, freewheeling education groups to introduce new members to our politics. All of this is necessary to make ourselves an “outward-looking minority.”

A key task for DSA will be to reevaluate and standardize its dues structure and perhaps ask a little more of its members. DSA membership is worth more than the current 67-cent monthly minimum. Rather than dismantling dues, as some anarchist-leaning caucuses have suggested, we must embrace and celebrate them as the foundation of a self-reliant movement.

5) Adopt a nationwide political platform.

DSA is currently working on a platform to synthesize its political demands. This is a very exciting development and an important step to assert ourselves as a distinct force in American politics. We should develop a truly revolutionary program that, if fully implemented, would hand power to our country’s working class and place society on a socialist transition out of capitalism. We must repeal every law that props up the two-party cartel and eliminate every institution that denies us an authentic majoritarian democracy. Abolish the Senate, abolish the Electoral College, and smash the Supreme Court—send Brett Kavanaugh and all his colleagues packing. 

So that working people can fully participate in political life, we should also demand unimpeded labor rights, a massive reduction in working hours, and a comprehensive welfare state that would make Scandinavians blush. Create programs to reduce the power of bureaucrats and give ordinary workers administrative skills; promote worker self-management in all industries. Place the commanding heights of the economy under public ownership and rapidly phase out fossil fuel production. Dismantle the repressive arms of the state: abolish the military and policing as we know it and replace both with a democratically-accountable popular militia. This last point will be challenging yet still indispensable. We must transform the empty demand for “police abolition” into appealing slogans and substantive policy proposals. 

We have our work cut out for us: we must develop a comprehensive program and find ways to promote it to a mass audience. Even so, we will not be working in isolation. We can learn from the history of past revolutions and from the platforms of our predecessors in socialist parties across the world. 

Is this project too arrogant? Will we alienate ordinary people if we draft a comprehensive platform instead of a short list of popular demands? If we treat the platform as an inalterable holy text, then yes. If we leave it open to regular revision and use it as part of our political education process, then no. The intuitive red-meat demands are indispensable: we should certainly continue to advance Medicare for All and other programs that improve the quality of life for the working class. But we will never achieve those demands unless we attack the political order that is making them unachievable. Our platform must point towards a break with the capitalist state and fight for an authentic working-class democracy. We need to build a constituency that believes in the legitimacy of that fight. A “political revolution” will not be enough to defeat America’s reactionary Old Regime. No, that will require a break of epoch-making proportions, a world-historic social revolution.

6) Run dedicated organizers for office.

Many “revolutionary” organizations have an impulse to steer clear of electoral politics. Stumping for office might seem to legitimize a system we want to overturn, so why do it?

The obvious answer is that the state has tremendous power and it already has legitimacy for most people. It will be here for quite a while. Retreating from the political arena does nothing to stop that. More importantly, electoral work done right can erode the legitimacy of the system and help us win the support of millions. Electoral campaigns can be used as a bully pulpit to attack the system and demand a new political order. Lenin did this, the German socialists did this, and so can we.   

Electoral politics can also embolden and merge with the combative worker and tenant struggles that often capture leftists’ attention. Bernie Sanders taught us that when he personally manned picket lines, and West Virginia teachers showed it when they drew inspiration from Bernie to go on strike.

What we need to avoid is getting sucked into another abusive coalition like Bernie. The key to this is recognizing the Democratic Party as the irredeemable zombie that it is. Bernie tried to heal the zombie and he got bitten hard. Instead of collaborating with the neoliberals, we should strive for total independence and self-sufficiency in our electoral bids. DSA could train and run gifted organizers who promise to coordinate their campaigns, accept the party platform, and vote as one bloc when elected. Candidates would be entirely free to personally disagree with elements of the platform and push for changes through internal party discussion. In the halls of power, however, they would be expected to act as one team, with accountability to the entire membership movement.

We see a preview of this approach in New York, where DSA recently ran a victorious slate of insurgent socialist candidates. If we hardened and expanded this approach nationwide, it would put us to the left of even the Squad–whose members have hesitated to endorse other primary challengers after winning office themselves. 

We would not align with the Democrats. Instead, wherever they won office, our candidates would form an independent socialist caucus. Both parties would be welcome to meet with us to discuss policy–at the opposite end of a long negotiating table. 

This approach would not win us much love from either side. Legislative committee appointments would be sparing or nonexistent, but that is okay. Establishment politicians may hammer us as useless backbenchers, but we would simply counter by pointing out how useless they are, listing off all the ways they have betrayed their constituents in the past. We would make use of our extra free time by serving as relentless advocates for the communities that they have ignored, publicizing socialist policy proposals, providing constituent services, and assisting local organizing projects. To show their dedication, our elected officials would refuse to take more than a typical working-class salary and donate the rest to our community programs. 

The value of electoral work done right cannot be understated. Many “revolutionary” leftists begrudgingly accept its necessity as a type of “propaganda,” but what passes for propaganda on the Left is often just obnoxious megaphone yammering. It would be better to describe it as a form of organizing, as outreach to carve out a constituency that believes in our cause. 

One popular idea in DSA is that candidates should always “run to win.” It is correct that we should be running professional campaigns, with talented candidates who truly want to come out victorious. If we finish with single-digit results, that is probably a sign that we ran our campaign poorly and need to reevaluate our strategy. However, it’s important to remember that the path to victory can be longer than one election cycle, and an honorable defeat can still build the movement. Cori Bush did not win her initial campaign in 2018, but now she is headed to Congress to join the Squad. Nor did Bernie Sanders win his first independent House bid in 1988–that took a second try in 1990. If we abandon every “loser” the moment they fall short, we may end up discarding capable leaders who still have future potential.

In the long run, our goal should be to run candidates for every office possible, even where we cannot win. This boosts our visibility as a national political movement and will help us extend our presence outside the large urban centers. Like Bernie, we must eagerly engage with rural, small-town, and Republican-leaning voters. If we abstain for fear of losing, we will never be able to build a truly national constituency.

7) Stop endorsing outside the party.

Once we have a training program for this new approach to electoral work, we must wind down the faucet of endorsements. DSA should focus all of its energy, messaging, and resources on promoting its own candidates: active, committed members who promise to uphold the platform. The only exception would be strategic collaboration with candidates from other independent left parties. Electoral pacts to avoid competition in certain districts may occasionally be necessary.

Cutting off endorsements may seem like a sectarian move, but it is perfectly reasonable. AOC and other Squad members are sparing with their primary endorsements; they have not mounted a massive assault against their Democratic colleagues. They have pragmatic obligations to attend to, and so do we. We should pour all our energy into cultivating talented candidates who are embedded in our organization and committed to building an independent movement. When we endorse candidates who are not directly accountable to our membership, we muddy the waters on what DSA stands for.

None of this means that we will run around viciously denouncing left Democrats and other progressive candidates. They are not responsible for this crisis. We will sometimes criticize their political strategy, but our fiery speeches will be reserved for the ghouls who actually hold the cards: Biden, McConnell, Kavanaugh, Barrett, and so on. When our rabble-rousing socialist backbenchers take up their seats, they may want to collaborate with the major parties from time to time, and left Democrats could end up playing a valuable role as mediators. And who knows? Some of them may be impressed by our new brand of politics and join our ranks. The goal is not to be sectarian. We are just stepping up to become self-reliant, to make our own independent mark on the world.

8) Choose ballot lines at the state level.

Should we keep running our candidates in Democratic primaries, or should we rush to set up our own ballot lines?

Every state has its unique convoluted rules, so there’s no easy answer to this question. That’s the point. Our system is designed to encourage incoherent thinking, to fragment and divide power to make majoritarian politics impossible. When future schoolteachers describe the decline and fall of the United States, they will point to its divided political system, the fifty jurisdictions marked out on a map. The children will laugh out loud and ask how it lasted so long.

The states have had third parties running like gerbils on a wheel, focusing all their energy on petition gathering and hopeless presidential campaigns (required to secure ballot access). Even staunch third party advocates like Hawkins know that it’s time to break the wheel and try something new. Perhaps we should ditch the ballot access crusades and just run nominal independents. That would allow us to stop running top-heavy presidential tickets, to be more discriminating about which elections we target. An interesting map comes together with a glance at state ballot access laws for House candidates:

Source: https://ballotpedia.org/Main_Page

Green states are reasonably friendly to independent bids. They require the same number of petition signatures as major-party candidates. Or, if the requirement is unequal, the total number of signatures needed is still 1,000 or fewer. Red states have clearly unequal requirements, although they are not necessarily insurmountable. Blue states have very different procedures for major party and independent candidates and are difficult to compare directly.

It’s clear that there are weak spots. California, Texas, and Florida all have equitable access for independents. Why run Democrats for the House in any of those easy states? 

Once we have dedicated state-level organizations, they will be able to make these judgment calls decisively. In New Jersey, where only 100 signatures are required for independent House bids and party machines brazenly rig their primaries, “clean break now” is an excellent approach. 

In Georgia, the rules for independents are extremely inhospitable and primaries are open to voters from any party. There, it would make sense to antagonize the Democrats with a large slate of DSA primary insurgents. For the sake of clear messaging, ballot line choices should generally be consistent across the entire state. We would confuse primary voters if we ran an independent in one congressional district, a Democrat in the one next door, and a Republican for a county office that overlaps both districts.

Even when we run in a party primary, we should still run our candidates on the DSA platform and be committed to political independence. The line could be this: “I’m running as a Democrat. It was the only way to get on the ballot. Once I’m elected, I’ll renounce my party affiliation and serve with the Socialist Independents.”

Off they will go to join the rest of our rabble-rousing backbenchers. Under this framework, the “dirty break” is no longer some vague goal that we banish to the distant future. It is something that we do every time we win an election, enraging both capitalist parties. Call it the filthy break – perhaps we will even run Socialist Republicans in Montana! Eventually, both parties should be expected to crack down and pass laws to close up their primaries. Hopefully, we will already have a mass constituency by that point. 

Right now, DSA prioritizes Democratic bids and neglects independent campaigns. That order should be reversed. Clean independent bids should always be prioritized, wherever we can realistically get a couple strong campaigns on the ballot. They establish our independence and make it clear to the public that we are not Democrats—that we are out to break the two-party system.

“But you’ll never win as an independent!” some will protest. “I did!” Bernie Sanders would have replied in 1990. It’s an uphill battle, but not an impossible one.

Vote-splitting is another valid concern. Unfortunately, it is a fact of life in any winner-take-all election. It happens in Democratic primaries (peace among worlds, Liz!). Even the fear of vote-splitting can do great damage to insurgent primary campaigns. NYC-DSA learned that the hard way when self-appointed socialist kingmaker Sean McElwee released a poll to deliberately tank Samelys López’s congressional bid, claiming that she would split the vote and put a conservative Democrat in office.

Vote-splitting will happen, and we will have to find ways to reduce the public’s fear of it. Establishing ourselves as a viable force worth splitting the vote for will be one important step. We will have to pick our campaigns carefully in the beginning to build capacity and establish a political foothold. But from the very outset, we must make it clear that we are intent on further expansion. The Socialist Movement has the right to run its candidates across the board, just like any other political party.

9) Target the House of Representatives.

What made the Bernie movement so powerful, so terrifying, so utterly invigorating for its participants? It was a national struggle for power.

That point deserves to be repeated: participation in the Bernie movement was participation in a national struggle for power. In the campaign’s words, it was a mission to “defeat Donald Trump and transform America.”

America alienates the U.S. left. We are not nationalists; we are not patriots. We reject much of the dominant culture. This makes it difficult for us to conceive of politics as a nationally coordinated struggle. It is much easier to think in terms of local organizing or international solidarity. Both are crucial projects. The working class has no country; the socialist movement must be international, and our work is hopeless without effective local organizers on the ground. 

But the best thing we can do for our local organizers is to integrate them into a coordinated movement for transformative change. The best thing that we can do to foster internationalism is build a real, unified revolutionary organization in America, a powerful socialist movement that can give inspiration to others around the world. 

If we play our hand well, our next national struggle will be different from Bernie’s in some important ways. We will be more ambitious, more independent, and less deferential to established institutions. Instead of trying to redeem the Democratic Party, we will oppose it head-on alongside the GOP. Instead of seeking a “political revolution” within the capitalist state, we will call for a world-historic revolution and a new political order: an authentic working-class democracy. How can we integrate our union work, tenant struggles, and electoral campaigns into this grand vision? Do we run another presidential campaign?

Not in 2024. Barring something completely unforeseen, we will not have the numbers, organization, and high-profile leaders necessary to mount an interesting presidential bid. We would waste precious volunteer hours collecting signatures and then come out with 1% of the vote. It would be hopping right back on the gerbil wheel. Once we have a larger base, we can contest the presidency (on a platform of abolishing the presidency by revolution).

But our main target should be the House of Representatives. It is a federal institution, elected every two years in local districts that are small enough for us to realistically target. We can run a National Slate of candidates, from Washington to Florida, from Michigan to Maine, and talk it up in our stump speeches. We can use the House as a national soapbox to publicize our demands. We will be speaking to America coast-to-coast, raising our public profile and giving a boost to all of our state and local candidates. The House is the most important electoral institution for us to contest in the years to come.

We can begin in the urban deep blue districts that Democrats have dominated, plus some red district bids to expand our repertoire. This will offer political choice to one-party districts that have had none for years, giving us a chance to establish viability. Then, as quickly as we can, we should strive to contest all 434 congressional seats, forcing a messy national referendum on our political demands every two years.

The next three points could be among the most important demands.

10) Organize for electoral reform.

We must demand an end to the two-party system. We should fight for easy ballot access for all political parties, ranked-choice voting and multi-member electoral districts, proportional representation in Congress, and anything else that gives working-class people more choice at the ballot box. In the wake of the 2020 Census and the GOP’s electoral fraud witch-hunt, a new wave of gerrymandering and voter suppression will be arriving very soon. In this political climate, our campaigns for electoral reform should be connected to wider efforts to protect voting rights, such as citizen redistricting panels and automatic voter registration.  

We must integrate these demands and advance them with incisive slogans, playing on popular antipathy to entrenched politicians and the two-party system. Many states have ballot initiative processes that we could use to our advantage, mobilizing voters to pass electoral reforms at the ballot box. Such campaigns have already been mounted by nonpartisan groups, successfully in Michigan, Maine, and Alaska (and unsuccessfully in Massachusetts). Although petition circulation requirements are often arduous, a volunteer-powered mass movement may well be able to blast through the obstacles.

Source: https://ballotpedia.org/States_with_initiative_or_referendum

Electoral reform campaigns are one more way to establish our political independence. They will also help us establish that socialists are champions of a richer democracy (and that the capitalist parties are not!).

11) Shoot down war budgets.

The U.S. spends more on its military than the next ten countries combined. Trillion-dollar slush funds, poured into graft, arms manufacturers, right-wing dictatorships, and bloody imperialistic ventures all over the world. That is no secret; it is common knowledge to tens of millions of Americans.

We cut ourselves apart through total noncooperation. We should refuse to vote for any spending bill that pours one more penny into the bloated military, police departments, or any other repressive capitalist institution.

If we do this, will we cause endless government shutdowns? Unlikely. The Republicans and Democrats will pass their “bipartisan” budgets right over our heads. Drop a heavy boulder into a creek, and the water finds its way around it. But it gives us something to stand on to capture public attention, to erode the legitimacy of an institution that Americans are taught to view as sacrosanct.

12) Demand a new constitution.

What is a demand that would truly set us apart, that would bring the Right’s worst nightmares to life?

Demand a New Union. A new constitution, developed by mass popular participation. Not an Article V convention. No state-by-state ratification. An accessible process that everyone within the borders of the United States can contribute to, combining grassroots direct democracy with a National Constituent Assembly. The final ratification would be by national referenduma simple majority vote.

In a free society, everyone gets a say in the social contract that they live under. That is not what happened when the current constitution was written. Women had no say; black people had no say; working-class people had no say. We demand that the living, breathing people of the United States be given the right to determine its future. We demand a constitution that guarantees real democracy, majority rule, housing, healthcareeconomic rights. 

We will be quite clear about the additional reforms that we would advocate throughout the process: abolish the Senate, abolish the presidency, abolish the Supreme Court. All power to an expanded, improved, democratized House of Representatives.

“We demand that Congress initiate this process, but if it does not, the people have a right to do so themselves.”

There is a legitimate argument to be made that the Constitution can be legally amended by referendum. This deserves an article of its own, and we should certainly invoke constitutional law as needed. Of course, none of our opponents will take our arguments too seriously. Revolutions make their own laws, and what we demand is nothing less than a world-historic revolution against the forces of Old America.

Let the Trumpers fume over the socialist plot to destroy the Constitution. Let the liberals lecture us about the dangers of norm erosion. Obama can start an NGO to educate young people about the beauty of our institutions and the farsighted wisdom of our Founding Fathers. We alienate most people at first, but we strike a chord with a sizable minority. And every year, we build it out, leaning into every crisis, growing, until finally something snaps.

That is the last point. To recap all twelve:

    1. Declare political independence.
    2. Hold annual conventions.
    3. Form statewide organizations.
    4. Cultivate a committed membership base. 
    5. Adopt a nationwide political platform.
    6. Run dedicated organizers for office.
    7. Stop endorsing outside the party.
    8. Choose ballot lines at the state level.
    9. Target the House of Representatives.
    10.  Agitate for electoral reform.
    11.  Shoot down war budgets.
    12.  Demand a new constitution.

Perhaps these suggestions are unrealistic. They may demand too much of a small organization like DSA; they may overestimate the potential of the era we are living in. But even if we try them and fail, at least we will fail on our own terms, in a more instructive way than ever before. Progressive reform movements rise and fall, both inside and outside the Democratic Party. For decades they have led us to defeat, cooptation, and humiliation. Many generations of the American Left have grown exhausted with this ritual, but instead of building a real alternative, the disenchanted vent their frustration with performative action. Endless rallies, megaphone chants, and radical posturing take us nowhere. Localist organizing projects “feel good,” but they completely lose sight of the national struggle for power.

“And you ought to be careful of them, they’ll overthrow you too.”
–Trump to Biden on the Left

What we need are performative restraint and political aggression. Independent politics is not a distant end goal; it is not something we earn after working hard enough for the Democratic coalition. It is the heart of the socialist project, the foundation of effective revolutionary struggle, and something that we ought to start doing right now. The time has come to forge a new strategy that draws on the best of the Bernie campaign and everything that came before it. A fearless strategy, hardheaded yet still principled, that never loses sight of the real end goal: a world-historic, working-class revolution in the USA.

And the goal of this piece is to contribute some starting points. 

Without a Party, We Have Nothing

Donald Parkinson responds to Taylor B’s Beginning’s of Politics: DSA and the Uprising, arguing that a workers’ party is necessary to advance an emancipatory politics. 

Communist Party rally in 1930s, NYC

The past eight months have been unlike any other. Political strife in the Democratic Primary had already been taking place when the Covid-19 pandemic brought about a massive health crisis coupled with economic dislocation that led to historic levels of unemployment. It was only a matter of time before mass unrest began, with the murder of George Floyd by the police state acting as the spark that set into motion months of protesting and rioting. In these months countless Americans had their first taste of collective political action. The intensity of the wave of struggles for many felt like a rupture with the past. Politics was no longer confined to the plaything of property owners and technocratic experts but something contested by the plebian masses in struggle. 

This feeling of a decisive break, of a new qualitative situation, is what leads Taylor B to declare the rise of democratic socialism through the Sanders campaign and the mass protests of Black Lives Matter as a “birth of politics”, a singular event that in its own processes of social mobilization create new possibilities for a future communist horizon. This feeling of a qualitative break leads him to see these events as singular, as heralding a new creative process that will break from all the old muck of the past and create new forms of organization. It is this approach that leads Taylor B to mistakenly declare that in this singular process we must instead declare our fidelity to the spontaneous energies of the event, to see where it goes and what it creates rather than trying to impose our own ideas upon it. And the most dangerous of those ideas is the notion of the workers’ party, which Taylor B declares to be a force of neutralization in the current conjuncture. 

What we find here is a logic of movementism and spontaneism where the energies unleashed by social movements and mass actions are seen organically leading to a higher form. This is essentially the argument of Rosa Luxemburg’s Mass Strike – that the workers’ movement in struggle will find the solutions to its problems and develop new forms of organization that can apply these solutions. The arguments were taken to a greater extreme by the council communists like Anton Pannekoek, who eventually rejected the party as a force of neutralization much like Taylor B does in Birth of Politics. As Mike Macnair has pointed out, these ideas have far more in common with the political approach of the anarchist Mikhail Bakunin than his main rivals of the time in the First International, Karl Marx and Engels.

The appeal of spontaneism and movementism is a common and popular reaction to the reality of countless sectarian Leninist groups who claim to be holders of the true wisdom of Marxism that will organize and lead the proletarian revolution. When the inability of these sects to consciously engineer a revolutionary movement from above into existence is clear, the appeal of a solution from below is seductive. The masses, uncorrupted by the sectarian dogmas of the failing left, will bring a new sense of energy and vision into play and overcome the forces of the old, bringing the new politics of the genuine social movement to the fore. The failure of the socialist sects to find a solution to the problems that socialists face today makes hope in the purity of social movements and their spontaneous motion almost common sense in the activist left. 

The problem with this approach is that it contradicts the very goal of communism itself. Communism, at least in part, can be understood as the conscious planning and democratic control of the producers of over society. Capitalism creates forms of domination and control that appear as impersonal forces of the market throwing us around according to the whims of profit. The anarchy of capitalism, or its lack of planning, means that our social and productive processes dominate us (the human species) as an arbitrary force, just as religious fetishizations dominate traditional religious communities as forces beyond their control. It is for this reason that the conscious planning of society in communism is not an incidental feature but a part of its very nature as a social system. 

The party, an instrument of conscious political vision, is counterposed to the spontaneous unconscious energies of the mass movements unleashed by the Bernie campaign and Black Lives Matter. It is no wonder that Taylor B sees Black Lives Matter as containing more potential despite its admitted domination by the petty-bourgeois; while Black Lives Matter is technically a non-profit foundation with its own organizational existence, it’s clear that the energy of the movement is in the uncontained moments of rebellion where street fighting against the cops. The amount of energy expressed by the masses in the street is nothing to write off, and it is easy to see why so much of the left invest more hope in these moments of unmediated attacks on the state than the sloganeerings of sects selling newspapers. In moments like this, it is tempting to say, as Taylor B does, that the masses in struggle are more politically advanced than the various leftist sectarians.

Yet if we understood communism to be a project of humanity talking conscious control of its own conditions of existence, then placing hope in the unconscious spontaneous energy of mass actions is not sufficient. Yes, we can find levels of organization emerge from the movements of the crowd, with the formation of assemblies, affinity groups, and even new nonprofits as initiatives from activists. It would be a mistake to deny the obvious creativity that arises from mass movements like the ones we saw this summer. Yet it would be an even bigger mistake to declare that this creativity can produce the organization and class consciousness needed to transform the existing class struggle into one that can transcend capitalism. 

If we accept that the conscious planning of social-productive processes to meet the needs of the human species is a defining quality of communism, then we should also be willing to apply this principle to communist politics. As partisans of communism who believe that we have a duty to fight for our ideas, it is necessary that we develop an analysis of our situation, determine what is needed to further advance the struggle for communism, develop a plan of action based on this analysis, and put it into practice. We look at the social forces that promulgated these dynamics, but it is necessary to also analyze how our situation fits in a broader historical struggle of the proletariat throughout history. We cannot develop an entirely new form of struggle or organization for any given conjuncture but instead look to our past for insight into how we can best act and develop a strategy that can help us spearhead the class war towards communism. After all, the current conjuncture isn’t something simply unfolding before our eyes as passive observers. We can analyze the situation and collectively act in ways informed by our analysis to influence its unfolding.

But who is this ‘we’ that I speak of? Is it whoever jumps into the crowd with a hope for liberation or a desire to break with the current order? Is it only other leftists? Other Marxists? To ask the strategic question of ‘what is to be done?’, there needs to be a collective ‘we’ that can act as a subject. Otherwise ‘we’ are simply acting as individuals, an affinity group in the streets, a nonprofit, or a temporary general assembly that will only last as long as people can stay in the streets. Questions like “should we focus on building unions or elections, should we oppose the war, should we form a coalition with this party, should we organize nation-wide demonstrations, should we form an armed struggle?” all only make sense when the ‘we’ in question is some kind of organized collectivity that already has unified around a certain goal. Otherwise one is simply shouting at the atomized masses hoping they will follow. 

The ‘party’ is simply this organized collectivity that allows a ‘we’ to form and act in a decisive way. This is to say nothing of what a party looks like, which I have said more about in other places. In this instance, I am focusing on and arguing on a more abstract philosophical level about why the party is necessary. This is not the imposition of an abstract historical model completely foreign to the conjuncture as Taylor B claims. The call for a party is instead a call for strategy and the capacity to put it into practice through forming a political subject, a ‘we’ that can pose and answer questions through collective action. 

I do not doubt that Taylor B accepts the need for strategy and an organized political subjectivity that can put it into practice. The problem is that he sees the current political sequence as a singularity that exists in a break with the past so radical that it will herald a completely novel form of political subjectivity, leaving us incapable of learning from the accumulated lessons of the past. There supposedly has been such a radical break in history that these accumulated lessons can only be the “traditions of generations weighing on us like living nightmares”. Arguments like this can be found everywhere, from ultra-left proponents of the immediate communization of society like the journal Endnotes to left-populists like Laclau and Mouffe. The old forms of worker identification and the corresponding forms of organization such as the party and union were expressions of a historically specific era that is long gone. Today we will see new forms of subjectivity and organizational forms, and those who raise the old forms of a bygone era are simply imposing a nostalgic past onto the present. Or so the argument typically goes. 

I like to call these types of arguments the ‘appeal to novelty’. The version of it that Taylor B cites is an essay by Sylvain Lazarus, “Lenin and the Party, 1902 – November 1917”. Its argument is worth summarizing before dissecting, as it gives us a sophisticated version of the ‘appeal to novelty’ argument. Lazarus begins by saying that the notion of ‘the party’ is the basis of politics in the 20th Century, which is an innovation marked by Lenin’s What Is To Be Done in rupture with the previous conception of politics which centered on the insurrection of the class, exemplified by the Paris Commune and the ideas of Marx. Lenin’s development of the thesis explicated in What Is To Be Done is seen as a break from Marx’s idea of the class as the revolutionary subject: 

In What Is to Be Done? Lenin broke with the thesis of Marx and Engels in the Communist Manifesto (1848) with regard to the spontaneous character of the appearance of  Communists within the modern proletariat. In contrast to the Marxist thesis that can be stated as “Where there are proletarians, there are Communists,” Lenin opposed spontaneous consciousness and Social Democratic (that is, revolutionary) consciousness and stretched this opposition to the limit.1

This break with Marx is said to comprise a new sequence, the discovery of a truth that marks an era which demonstrates this truth. Yet the sequence comes to an end in 1917, as ‘the party’ is now something that becomes intertwined with the state. Now one can only speak of the ‘state party’, a force of conservatism because of its ‘standing over society’. A new sequence begins, and the word becomes ‘revolution’ rather than ‘party’. What this means is unclear beyond the fact that a new form of politics that goes beyond the party. Rather than seeking state power, it seeks its “subversion, its transitory cessation”.2 In his rejection of a politics oriented around state power and the party, Lazarus goes so far as to say the signifier of ‘revolution’ should be rejected as it “is a nonpolitical, historicist notion, reducing the thought of politics, its condition of possibility, to that of an event character in exteriority, and placing this latter in a chain in which ‘party’ and ‘state’ also figure…rendered obsolete in 1968, as far as France is concerned.”3 

My first reaction to Lazarus’ argument here is that he’s making a claim that’s impossible to disprove because it’s impossible to prove. Looking at history and developing a periodization can be useful. That said, one has to ask whether they are imposing a periodization by coming up with a conclusion and then reading history backward to validate that conclusion. Historical narratives are supposed to be explanatory, and the only thing that Lazarus’ narrative explains is why he thinks we need to abandon all the past concepts of Marxist politics and come up with something completely novel.

Problems with method aside, the narrative Lazarus paints is simply not true. Lenin was not breaking with the political practice or conceptions of Marx and Engels in What Is To Be Done? and wasn’t making any kind of original argument. As Lars Lih has pointed out, What Is To Be Done? Is an impressive exercise in aggressive unoriginality. Lenin’s arguments about the need for class consciousness to be brought from without due to the inadequacy of economic struggles to develop into Social-Democratic politics on their own is simply an application of Karl Kautsky’s ‘merger formula’. The merger formula postulates that socialist intellectuals such as Marx and Engels developed their applications from a study of history and political economy, while the working class by necessity organized into a labor movement to collectively defend its conditions within capitalism. The socialist intellectuals, consciously dedicated partisans of political conviction, must merge their knowledge with the working-class movement by uniting to form a party dedicated to the cause of socialist revolution that is armed with a scientific theory of social change. Kautsky based this idea on the very life and work of Marx and Engels themselves, as he shows in his pamphlet The Historical Accomplishment of Karl Marx. By heralding Lenin’s theory of the party as a radical break from Marx, Lazarus falls into the trappings of Cold War historiography as well the myths that Leninist sects tell themselves about the “party of a new type”. 

What Lazarus is doing is projecting a radical break into history so as to justify that another radical break is necessary. Lenin (supposedly) broke with Marx’s view of the class as the subject of revolution with his view of the party in order to successfully seize power in October. Then the party became a source of conservatism through its merging with the state after October, meaning that if we are to truly be working in the spirit of Lenin then another break is necessary, this time with the party itself. Yet the break never really happened in the first place. Marx himself fought to form the workers’ party in his own time and struggled within it for programmatic clarity. His own life was an example of the merger formula in practice. Kautsky merely systematized it and Lenin applied it to Russian conditions.  

Lazarus’ periodization is essentially just an assertion of novelty to the expense of continuity, showing history as a series of sequences where each represents a clean break from the prior where a totally different type of politics is necessitated by history. What exactly changes in terms of socio-economic conditions to produce these sequences and necessitates the accompanying break in political frameworks is left to the imagination. Against this vision of history as pure novelty, we must instead see the continuity in history so as to better assimilate the accumulated past struggles of the proletariat and oppressed, building on the years of trial and error practice passed down to us by our forebearers to produce the institutions and knowledge that exist with us today. Lenin was not simply analyzing the immediate conjuncture he faced and drawing conclusions from its immanent tendencies to produce practice. He was applying knowledge and practices passed to him by years of prior political experience. 

Lenin was working with the tradition of Russian populism and its accumulated years of failure to produce a real social revolution against Czarism. Using a flawed strategy of terrorism and reliance on the spontaneous energies of the peasantry awakened by a minority of the intelligentsia, Lenin looked for solutions that at first weren’t obvious fits for his conditions. He saw one in the massive success of the German Social Democratic Party, which unified under a programme based on Marxism to build a party supported by millions of workers. The German Social Democratic movement itself existed in continuity with the traditions of Chartism, radical republicanism, and Germany’s own national history of labor struggle and peasant rebellion. All of these accumulated experiences of class struggle constitute the tradition of communist activity that not only Lenin was embedded in, but contemporary communists too, for better or worse. 

It is for this reason that I reject both Lazarus’ periodization and Taylor B’s use of it to argue that “we must proceed from a break to do politics under present conditions” just as “Marx broke with the utopian socialists. Lenin broke with Marx. The Cultural Revolution can be read as Mao’s break with Marxism-Leninism to free politics from the party-state.” By positing history as a sequence of decisive clean breaks rather than a flux of novelty and continuity it breaks us off from the past generations of class struggle, forcing the left to completely reinvent politics for every historical sequence we encounter. Any concrete situation in history is a completely unique conjuncture while also embedded in a web of determinations that are the product of generations of social practices all corresponding with humanity’s need to interface with nature. Situating ourselves in the conjuncture means looking through all of history at the accumulated lessons given to us by these social practices and building on them, throwing off the muck of the past that harms us while preserving those ideas and practices that correctly orient us, continuing the work of those before us. 

With this perspective, it is easy to see how it is not idealist to react to the current situation by pursuing the organization of a workers’ party. Those of us who engage in such pursuits continue the work of generations of partisans before us and carry with them their lessons and methods. To build on these methods and apply them to the conditions we face is not forcing something foreign and alien upon our current circumstances. These circumstances do not exist in a vacuum completely outside of a broader historical continuity. 

What is idealist is to assume a break in history where political actors will completely reinvent the old forms and subjectivities without building upon the historical traditions they are embedded in. We are more atomized and depoliticized than ever before, so it is easier to see ourselves as disembedded from the past and in a unique historical position where we must go back to the drawing board and completely reinvent politics in order to relate to our times. Yet this disembeddedness is an illusion, as is the accompanying notion that we can reinvent politics without regard for the traditions of the past.

Any attempt to reinvent politics in such a way will inevitably be pure improvisation. Any situation requires improvisation, a “concrete analysis of a concrete situation”. But improvisation in politics requires knowledge of our methods of struggle, a body of organizational and political knowledge that serves as a basis. When we disembed ourselves from the past and seek to reinvent our methods of struggle with every new phase of history (however these phases are defined) we end up losing this knowledge and having to purely improvise in the dark. And this improvisation will fall into the dominant thought patterns of bourgeois-liberal society. 

This is why Althusser spoke of the spontaneous ideology of scientists and it also makes sense to speak of the spontaneous ideology of activists.4 In seeking to achieve political goals, activists come upon limitations and dead ends, just as scientists come to across moments of crisis in their fields. The activist will seek to solve these problems and limitations within the ideological framework that is dominant in society, just as the scientist turns to idealist philosophy despite the realist and materialist nature of their practice. Today, when coming across the limitations of the current moment, activists will turn towards liberal and anarchist ideas unless a coherent alternative is posed. Rather than leading to an overcoming of the dominant framework, spontaneity tends to favor it. 

This is why Lenin spoke of the need to “combat spontaneity”. For Lenin, the role of the party was introducing a social-democratic consciousness that was not seen as possible through the accumulation of economic struggles alone. The fact that the accumulations of economic struggles would not lead to the spontaneous generation of social-democratic consciousness was what necessitated the party. Lenin saw that communist politics requires challenging the dominant worldview, and the party allowed this to be done in a conscious and systematic way.  This is the lesson of What Is To Be Done, and it should be seen as a lesson that is not particular to a certain phase of history as Lazarus would have it but rather universal to politics itself. The battle for hegemony must be a protracted and systematic struggle that pushes against the dominant ideas of society while putting forward a real alternative. 

My argument is not that we don’t need change and innovative ways of thinking and organizing, but simply that we don’t fix what isn’t broken. The party-form is not itself the agent of neutralization against emancipatory potentials that need to be broken with. Rather than being the cause of bureaucratism and other sources of revolutionary degeneration, the party is the precondition for solving these problems. There is a class struggle within the party itself, between the petty-bourgeois bureaucracy and the proletarians they represent. When Taylor B speaks of the party-form as the source of neutralization, it is the victory of this petty-bourgeois stratum that is actually the source of neutralization, not the essence of the party itself. By conducting the struggle to control party bureaucracy and democratize its organizations, the proletariat itself learns how to govern society as a class. 

Building the workers’ party allows us to constitute the proletariat into higher forms of political subjectivity by creating a collectivity that consciously and deliberately works to solve these problems. It allows us to actually become a force that can contest the class power of our enemies by out-organizing and out-strategizing them. To have any discussion about revolutionary strategy, develop an actionable plan, and put it into practice, a party is needed. Revolutionaries throughout history have realized this. Seeing the futility of endless street protests regardless of how militant, Huey Newton reacted to the challenges faced by struggling Black proletarians by helping form the Black Panther Party: 

The movement was cresting around the country. Brothers on the block in many northern cities were moving angrily in response to the problems that overwhelmed them. New York and other eastern cities had exploded in 1964, Watts went up in 1965, Cleveland in 1966, and in 1967 another long hot summer was approaching. But the brothers needed direction for their energies. The Party wanted no more spontaneous riots, because the outcome was always the same: the people might liberate their territories for a few short days or hours, but eventually the military force of the oppressor would wipe out their gains. Having neither the strength nor the organization, the people were powerless. In the final analysis, riots caused only more repression and the loss of brave men. Blacks bled and died in the riots and went to jail on petty or false charges. If the brothers could be organized into disciplined cadres, working in broadly based community programs, then the energy expended in riots could be directed toward permanent and positive changes.5

Newton’s words are incredibly prescient today, as months of street protests in the US come up against the reality of the left’s actual organizational powerlessness and incapacity to provide an alternative to the existing regime. Mass actions, riots, general strikes – these are not substitutes for having the organizational capacity to govern. Even if the latest wave of protest had brought the government down, the reality would have been the military enforcing a constitutionally legal transition to a replacement government, led by the same parties that were there before. 

Contrary to Taylor B, I believe that Marx did have a theory of politics. While it would take figures such as Engels, Bebel, Kautsky, and Lenin to systematize it, Marx ultimately believed that politics was about classes contesting, taking, and holding power. Communism relied on the proletariat taking power on an international scale, which required a protracted struggle where the proletariat organized itself as a class that could pose as an alternative to capitalist society. To do this, the proletariat had to form a party and learn to self-govern by organizing on the national and international scales and waging a political battle for radical democratic-republicanism and the socialization of production. 

Unlike the socialist sectarians of today and of his own time, Marx fought for a party that would be based on unity around a political program, not a specific theoretical creed or philosophical dogma. Marx fought for the unity of all principled revolutionaries around a strategy for the proletariat to constitute itself as a class and fight for political power, not for the purity of a micro-sect. Many are wary of the project of party-building today because of the toxic attitudes of sectarians who promote disunity, and one should not mistake my argument in favor of a workers’ party as an argument for a new sect. What is needed is the unity of Marxists within the existing left around a program of class independence and a strategy of building a party that will organize working-class communities and contest elections. Such unity will require a breakup of sectarian identities in favor of collaboration and mergers, and will not be easily won. Yet the development of arguments like those made by the comrades in Red Star DSA show a potential for such an initiative in the left. One thing is for sure – without a party, we have nothing. Because without a party, there is no ‘we’. 

Beginnings of Politics: DSA and the Uprising

Writing in August, Taylor B argues that we must look to new emancipatory forces arising in the current conjuncture instead of seeking to impose older forms of organization. We aim for this piece to be a jumping-off point for a broader debate about strategy and the party-form in our current historical moment. 

Back in August, DSA New York City’s Emerge caucus joined with DSA San Francisco’s Red Star caucus for a panel discussion on the workers’ party.1 The limits to this discussion were contained in the opening statement that contextualized the event: that in the wake of Bernie Sanders’ primary defeat and the Black Lives Matter national uprising, there is a need for an independent mass force for and of the working classes and that this force is necessarily a worker’s party. Here we see the problem: in reading the ensemble of forces that make up the current moment, Red Star and Emerge impose historical forms of organization on the conjuncture, rather than attempt to think emancipatory forms of organization through a concrete analysis.

I believe we lack a theory of politics that is adequate for our moment. To pose the problem quickly: the Marxist tradition contains a gap. It gives us critical tools to understand the capitalist mode of production, the insight that emancipation is immanent to the system through class struggle, and a concept of the transition to communism formulated by Marx as the dictatorship of the proletariat. But Marx does not tell us how to apply this emancipatory framework: this is the Marxist problem of politics that must be theorized under the conditions of the current moment, or conjuncture. 

Lenin understood this problem of politics. Like a great mountain climber, Lenin proved that the Marxist tradition could serve as the basis for the correct political practices to reach the emancipatory summit. But we are situated at the base of a new mountain. The interlocking and unfolding crises of our time–global industrial overcapacity, climate change, and ecological apocalypse, a global pandemic, mass unemployment, extrajudicial state violence and occupation of communities of color at home and abroad–present a singular set of challenges to which Lenin’s map does not correspond. We must study Lenin to understand his process of map-making, not to substitute the map of his mountain for ours. As Marxists, we cannot simply read and extract an emancipatory politics from Lenin that is appropriate to our moment. To do so would deny the particular historical developments of Lenin’s moment and our own.

We need a theory of politics that can account for the formation of the DSA and prescribe practices that move us closer to achieving universal emancipation. For this theory of politics to be valid, it must be able to account for political phenomena beyond the socialist organization. This practical theory is what I want to begin thinking about here. 

I propose to think of both the DSA and the current uprising as singular beginnings of emancipatory politics. As beginnings, these movements should be understood as necessarily incoherent attempts to discover the determinant, singular forms of emancipatory politics that emerge from the conjuncture. I see the process of discovery that is inherent to all beginnings of emancipatory politics as a struggle against an antagonistic force, which seeks to neutralize emancipatory forms.2 If an emancipatory politics can only proceed from our present conditions, then we are fortunate to live in the “exceptional circumstances” of a world-historic uprising. We must search for emancipatory forms in these circumstances through concrete analysis and political practice, rather than impose abstract and historical models.

Conditions of Beginnings

What constitutes a beginning of emancipatory politics? First, we can say that all beginnings occur in unique ways. They must always be thought in relation to the conjuncture, which is to say that beginnings must always be thought of in their singularity. Second, we can say that all emancipatory beginnings necessarily coincide with overcoming an antagonistic force of neutralization. Thus, emancipatory politics occur in sequences, with the end of the sequence succumbing to the forces of neutralization. To conceive of a beginning, we must first understand the conditions of neutralization within our conjuncture.

The end of the Black Power era illustrates a complex set of neutralizing forces. Given the complexity of this era, I must limit myself to two broad points: First, the Black protest movement of the 1950s and 60s was the end of the last emancipatory sequence in the US. Some forces that neutralized this movement, and specifically the Black Power moment, remain active forces of neutralization in our conjuncture. Second, the neutralization of emancipatory politics must be seen as a determinate force in the state’s transition to its neoliberal form. 

The forces that neutralized the Black Power era can be summarized in a very schematic way: First, an increase in federal social welfare programs under Johnson’s War on Poverty and Great Society. These programs not only provided assistance but unofficially doubled as a jobs program for college-educated Black workers. The result was a small but stable Black middle class from which a new political class emerged. Second, violent state repression and harassment through counterinsurgency programs like COINTELPRO that forced political radicals like the Black Panther Party to take a “pragmatic turn.”3 At its peak the Panthers were an organization of 5,000 members across 40 chapters. By the early 1970s, “50 members had been killed, 200 injured, and another 300 arrested.” Third, praise of the movement’s “political maturity” upon entering the political mainstream of electoral politics with an emphasis on “community control” through municipal elections.4 

It is clear that entering municipal government was not sufficient for addressing issues around “housing, jobs, public education, and health care amid shrinking tax revenue, cuts to federal spending, and growing hostility to welfare as an entitlement to the poor.5 And why is this? Because the moment the Black Power movement “matured” and a new class of political representatives began to enter the state, a crisis of capitalist accumulation was unfolding. This crisis of profitability began in the late 1960s through productive overcapacity in the global manufacturing sector.6 With profits no longer secure, the New Deal consensus broke down. Both production and the state itself required reorganization. Thus we see not only the deindustrialization of American cities through a shift to overseas production via distributed supply chains, but the formation of a disciplinary state of social insecurity to reinforce the system of wage labor amidst worsening employment opportunities in an era of deregulated capitalism.7 Through a “double regulation of the poor,” social welfare programs were gutted as police targeted street crime along the lines of class, race, and place. While Black mothers were disproportionately harmed by generalized welfare cuts, Black men in particular urban zones were swept into the rapidly expanding penal system.

I am well aware of the fact that the sketch I have provided is extremely schematic. But I feel this rough sketch does illustrate how the emancipatory politics of the Black Power era were neutralized. The result of this neutralization was a new class of Black politicians presiding over a restructured state of social insecurity that contributed to the death of Black people, among others.8 While all new emancipatory beginnings must break with and struggle against neutralizing forces, I believe this rough sketch gives us an idea of what elements require further study in our current moment.

The End of the Party

There is one element of neutralization we see during the end of the Black Power era that I want to pay particular attention to: the political party. The political party was not only a form through which emancipatory politics was integrated into the mainstream during this period, it was also a determining factor in both securing the necessary federal aid to build the Black middle class and coordinating the actions and policies of the repressive state apparatuses. Political parties are clearly an active force of neutralization in our conjuncture. It is for this reason that in the United States a beginning of emancipatory politics must break with the corporate, two-party system in particular and state organizations in general. 

For our purposes, we can note that the Democratic and Republican parties are barely parties in the bourgeois parliamentarian sense of the term. It would be more accurate to say they are networks of statist interest groups tangled in a complex set of pay-to-play schemes. Their control of the state is contingent on a particular set of interests taking a dominant position within these overlapping networks, but it is secured through the disorganization of working people. This disorganization is achieved at least in part through the successful neutralization of politics.9 As we have seen, one way in which this neutralization occurs is by absorbing representatives of emancipatory movements into its ranks. A head is created so it can be decapitated, thus killing the body.

We should also note that in addition to the corporate parties, the Black Panther Party was not only neutralized, but became a force of neutralization itself once it made its “pragmatic turn.” This is not a criticism of the Panthers; they clearly had no other option. The point I want to make is that the Panthers are just one example of a larger development in the twentieth century: the neutralization of the party-form itself.

As Sylvain Lazarus shows, the twentieth century saw “the notion of the party” become “central” to politics.10 This was inaugurated by Lenin, the theorist of the Bolshevik mode of politics, with his 1902 text What Is to Be Done?. For Lazarus, the notion of Marxism-Leninism obscures Lenin’s real break with Marx on the question of politics. The Bolshevik mode of politics that Lenin theorized was preceded by the “classist” mode of politics. The primary theorist of this mode was Marx, which had insurrection as its basis.11 The classist mode, or sequence, existed from the publication of the Communist Manifesto and ended with the Paris Commune in 1871. 

For Lazarus, the classist thesis is this: ‘Where there are proletarians, there are Communists.” Crucially, there is no theory of organization in Marx, nor is there a “real theory of political consciousness.” Instead, there is a “major and fundamental” theory of “historical consciousness and of consciousness as historical consciousness.” In other words, Marx’s “Communists” are made by history, rather than any organization.

Thus, Lenin breaks with Marx once he rejects this spontaneity. For Lenin, “the appearance of revolutionary militants” could not be a spontaneous occurrence, but just the opposite. For Lazarus, the “political core” of Lenin’s theory of politics is a “nonspontaneous consciousness” that is antagonistic to “the entire existing social and political order.” It is this nonspontaneous consciousness that is the heart of the party. The party is the “mechanism of realization of the conditions that will permit the emergence of a political consciousness.” For Lazarus, this is a critical development: “Lenin brings the foundation of modern politics in the fact that revolutionary politics is required to announce and practice the conditions of its existence.”

So through Lenin, we have the Bolshevik mode of politics, a politics of the revolutionary party. The sites of the Bolshevik mode of politics were the party and the soviet. This mode, or sequence, ended with the successful completion of the October Revolution. In other words, after the October Revolution, the party and the soviet were no longer active sites of emancipatory politics. This is because, upon the Bolsheviks taking power, the party and the soviets entered into a new relationship with each other and the state. The party fused with the state and subordinated the soviets to it. As Lazarus tells us: “From now on, ‘party’ would be assigned to power, to the state.” The party would now be:

an attribute of the state, or even its center. We enter the global era of state parties: Stalinism, Nazisim, parliamentarianism — multi-partyism being an interstate muti-partyism. At all events, parties exist only as state parties, which means that in the strict sense, these parties are not political organizations but state organizations.12

Thus, the success of the October Revolution coincided with the end of its political forms and the neutralization of its emancipatory sequence.

I believe we can see why I have equated overcoming the neutralization of politics with a break from the corporate two-party system. In the first place, a beginning of politics must proceed from a break to do politics under present conditions. Marx broke with the utopian socialists. Lenin broke with Marx. The Cultural Revolution can be read as Mao’s break with Marxism-Leninism to free politics from the party-state.13 Since we cannot know the forms of collective emancipation until we discover them within our conjuncture and put them into practice, we must begin by breaking with the neutralizing elements. For us, this means state organizations in general and the party-form in particular.

Beginnings of Politics

Over the last decade, there have been at least four beginnings: Occupy, Ferguson, the 2016 and 2020 defeats of Bernie Sanders Democratic primary campaigns, and the recent uprisings following the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many others. Each of these beginnings have their own thrusts and limits: they are structured in their particularity. Now, this is not to say that these beginnings are antagonistic or incompatible with each other: they are all beginnings of emancipatory struggles.

Since the growth of DSA is closely associated with the Sanders campaigns, I will begin there. To this point, I do not believe we have a strong analysis of the 2020 Democratic primary. I will limit myself to a few comments to continue my larger argument.

First, the 2020 Democratic primary election can only be understood in reference to Trump’s presidency and the strength of the ruling class. Trump’s violation of norms and traditions marks a discontinuity and period of adjustment for the ruling class within the two-party system, rather than the state’s weakness or new forms of governance. While discontinuity has given the appearance of a political crisis, Trump has energized an otherwise rudderless GOP and created an ideal foil for a similarly bankrupt DNC. This is the positive side of Trump’s discontinuity. From this positive perspective, the Bush and Obama administrations were the end of a sequence that played out within the ruling class. In 2016, all of the most unpopular aspects and contradictions of this regime manifested in the candidacy of Hillary Clinton, who was unable to carry it forward. While Trump is a poor administrator of empire who may fail to adequately contain domestic and international crises, they do not originate with him.14

Second, far from the Trump administration constituting a new political crisis, it would seem that Trump’s presidency has functioned as the prevention of one. Trump’s mostly stylistic discontinuity with the previous regime is what makes it possible to even conceive of the DNC and GOP having any legitimacy whatsoever. Take the COVID-19 relief packages for example. The only relief the so-called “normal politicians” in Congress have provided is a one-time $1,200 check and a temporary $600 weekly boost to unemployment benefits. Trump has functioned as an incredible shield for the political establishment’s complete unwillingness or inability to respond to the pandemic.

Third, the false notion that Trump’s presidency constitutes a political crisis is the basis for Sanders’ 2020 defeat. As others have pointed out, it is with great irony that the most prominent activist for Medicare for All was defeated during a global pandemic. Sanders’ 2020 defeat was not orchestrated by an underhanded media and omnipotent DNC, though the media and DNC played their parts. The decisive force was the large turnout of Democratic primary voters who rallied to Joe Biden.  

Biden’s victory was the result of a mobilization to protect “American Democracy” from the singular danger of the Genius Fascist Russian Crook Moron President. Trump’s “singular danger” to institutions, the Constitution, and the whole “exceptional” American project was reinforced time and again by both liberals and conservatives despite the strong continuity between his administration and the previous ones. Even Sanders held this position as he tried to rally voters and nonvoters to his social-democratic program. Presumably, this is why he is ending his political career campaigning for the Democratic establishment.

So while it seems that voters were failing to identify and vote for their “material interests”–public healthcare, student debt relief, etc.–we can see they were in fact voting for a different set of material interests. Biden’s primary voters chose to remove a bug from the machine they depend on for material and symbolic satisfaction. Even though the machine runs on blood and oil and cannot deliver public goods or a better life for the next generation, these voters ultimately affirmed in an exemplary way that politics is not something we can afford. The crises were too dire to consider any semblance of change or social transformation. Their decision was to right the ship, rather than begin the process to build a new one.

The Sanders Beginning

Sanders’ 2016 and 2020 defeats created surges in DSA membership growth. DSA now claims more than 70,000 members across 300 chapters. I believe these moments of growth are evidence of a beginning of politics. This is to say that through the defeat of Sanders 2016 and 2020 insurgent campaigns, truths have been produced for people that have “punched holes” in existing knowledge.15 These truths have fundamentally corresponded with the idea that the two-party system is incapable of delivering desired political outcomes on its own, and that therefore political organization is necessary in some form beyond the given bourgeois forms.

There are three points I want to emphasize. First, the reason a beginning of emancipatory politics could occur in a presidential primary is that Sanders was an insurgent candidate. To vote for him was to agree that some form of political organization was needed beyond the DNC. This is epitomized by his call for “political revolution.” Second, the fact that Sanders has betrayed his revolution by actively campaigning for Biden does not mean the beginning is over. Extinguishing a match used to light a fire has no bearing on the fire. Third, the neutralization of Sanders in 2020 that has seen him become a neutralizing force is a repeat of 2016 when he was defeated and campaigned for Hillary Clinton. What this should indicate to us is that the struggle between emancipatory beginnings and their neutralization are dynamic. Beginnings of politics can only be understood in relation to the force of neutralization.

The movement for socialism in the US is dominated by the Sanders beginning. So much so that I believe the term “socialism” in its current popular usage is the name for the recognition that additional political forms are needed beyond bourgeois ones. As a “socialist organization,” it would seem that the DSA is one of these non-bourgeois political forms. To be more specific, the DSA is neither a bourgeois form or a proletarian form: it is a political form of the petty bourgeoisie. But the economic character of the DSA is not sufficient to explain the incoherence within the organization. 

As a beginning of politics, DSA’s coherence is necessarily blocked by the forces of neutralization. As I have indicated, this is because a beginning of politics is a struggle against the neutralization of politics. The struggle between this unevenly developed balance of forces is playing out in DSA within its membership between different defined and undefined tendencies. Ultimately, I believe this struggle can be located in a problem of interpretation that arises from the recognition of the need for additional and supplemental political forms in a capitalist society. Are the additional forms of political organization meant to supplement the existing two-party system as a pressure group or third party within the capitalist mode of production? Or should additional forms of political organization create an irreconcilable and radical opposition to the organizations of the US state and the capitalist mode of production? DSA is dominated by the former. 

Both the “run better Democrats” and “build a worker’s party” tendencies in DSA correspond with the forces of neutralization. Why? Because they attempt to employ historical forms of politics that are emancipatory dead-ends. Since these tendencies dominate DSA, even if they can oppose each other, it is clear the DSA is constituted through an extremely unbalanced development of emancipatory and neutralizing forces. At best these strategies will only continue to block the development of emancipatory forms and reproduce our incoherence; at worst they will be coherent in their neutralization. If we are going to advance the emancipatory struggle, we must continue to fight the forces of neutralization that are consistent with our beginning by discovering the new political forms and building radical institutions.

Given DSA’s close association with the revival of “socialism,” tendencies within DSA that advocate electoralism and building the worker’s party threaten to neutralize the revival of socialism itself by stamping out its emancipatory potential. We can already see the logic at work. The failure of socialism to constitute a radical politics will likely follow the logic of Joe Biden’s primary voters: the crises we face will be deemed too great to entertain de-emphasizing electoral work or abandoning the worker’s party. Collective emancipation will be something we cannot afford. We must turn to forms that cannot deliver emancipation because it is not clear what else we can do. Once again, the ship must be righted because there is “no alternative.”

Now I realize I appear to have entered a tired debate. This is the debate that puts electoral work on one side and mutual aid on the other and ends with one person quoting Lenin’s “Left-Wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder” on Twitter.16 Fortunately, my argument exists outside of this problematic. Why? Because this debate is completely abstract and idealist: it supposes that we can simply choose the arena we wish to fight in based on what is strategically expedient, rather than do politics in relation to the specific ensemble of determinate forces that make up the current moment. Worse, invoking texts like “Left-Wing Communism” supposes we can extract transhistorical “wisdom” from a text written in relation to its conjuncture and apply it to ours. We cannot do either of these things. We must begin with the goal of universal emancipation and construct a theory of politics from within the conjuncture that allows us to move toward it. This must include identifying and combating the forces of neutralization. This is what Marx did. This is what Lenin did. Their specific proposals must be understood in relation to their moment instead of being imported into ours.

To this point, I believe we have made positive steps toward a concrete analysis so we can get an idea of the correct way the movement for socialism must proceed. But we cannot say we have yet articulated a concrete basis. Why? Because we must recognize that our movement for socialism coincides with other beginnings: both the Ferguson uprising and this current uprising of world-historic proportions that has been sparked by the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many others. As Marxists, we cannot hope to advance the emancipatory struggle in our moment without thinking through the Black Lives Matter beginning.

The Uprising 

The uprising is another singular beginning of politics. Between 15 and 26 million Americans have taken part in this uprising, making it possibly the largest protest movement in US history.17 We must note that the present uprising has not been led by any single mass organization, much less a Leninist party. We must try to understand the various forms of organizations that have been operative in this struggle, both formal and informal; we must also try to understand the uprising’s “spontaneity.” This will be essential if DSA is to make new connections and undertake organizing practices that deliver organizational forms that are appropriate to emancipatory politics. 

The uprising is a beginning of politics that must be understood in its singularity. What set off this beginning? Was it the video of George Floyd’s murder? Was it the one in 2,000 deaths of African Americans due to the COVID-19 pandemic? Was it the concentration of unemployment in communities of color that are forced to live in greater numbers in substandard housing? Was it the failure for meaningful reform following Trayvon Martin’s murder in 2012 and the Ferguson rebellion in 2014? I think we can say the event was the moment in which these realities fused in thought for people. This fusion, this rupture, led to the discovery that a past truth is still true: that in the US, Black lives largely do not matter. And it is this truth that has led a heterogeneous mix of people in Minneapolis and around the world to take to streets to combat it: to say that if life matters, Black lives must matter. 

It seems to me that Black Lives Matter is the name of an anti-racist movement against the police in particular, and the state in general. Like the socialist movement, reformist and radical tendencies have been produced within it. I should note that this simple opposition is not abstracted from the movement, but coincides with the necessary struggle between the neutralization and beginning of politics. On the one hand, Black lives will matter once police have the right amount of diversity, bias-training, and public oversight. On the other hand, Black lives will matter once the police are abolished and the carceral state is destroyed. Here we see additive and antagonistic demands coexisting as a beginning of politics.

The new demand to “defund the police” and reinvest in public goods seems to straddle the reformist and radical tendencies. This demand seems to best contain the struggle over the beginning and neutralization of politics. It can be read as both a transition to abolishing the police and a reformist move that says once the police are properly funded in relation to public goods they will finally be effective and worthwhile. Nevertheless, “defunding the police” is a reform of more radical character than requiring police to wear body cameras. It would seem the Black Lives Matter movement, from Ferguson to now, is both expanding its popularity and its radicality. I think this should be viewed as a positive development of a beginning even if it remains blocked by forces of neutralization.

Compared to the movement for socialism, it seems the Black Lives Matter movement is better positioned to resist the neutralization of politics. The development of this uprising seems to contain a more even development between the forces of politics and its neutralization. I believe the greater momentum behind the radical tendencies within the movement is due in part to the failure of reforms that emerged from Ferguson to resolve similar problems. This truth, that the police cannot be reformed, has been produced for more people through the failures to reform, thereby increasing the radical character across the whole movement. Given the movement for socialism’s primarily electoral character, it would seem that for some reform cannot yet be discounted since it has not elected a sufficient number of authentic socialists to political office to test this idea. But this is the same flawed logic we see in the reformist version of defunding the police. Both ideas in these beginnings suggest the state can be reformed once a magic number is reached: the number of socialists in government and the number of dollars going to police in municipal and state budgets.

While there is undoubtedly an economic dimension to the current uprising (mass unemployment is certainly a factor), the heterogeneous, multiracial mix of protestors does not adhere to a stable set of sociological categories or political consciousness. The forms of protest within the uprising, at first insurrectionary in character and then increasingly “peaceful,” have also shifted the longer the uprising has gone on. But this does not mean these elements have disappeared entirely. Different places are expressing their own time as they develop in their own way, with Minneapolis, Atlanta, Seattle, and Portland producing their own rhythms. I believe the key insight is this: The uprising is composed of contradictory situations that cut across different levels of the totality. Since the uprising has extended beyond US borders, with mass protests and demonstrations occurring around the world in solidarity and for their own particular reasons, it seems the totality is international in character.

Who are the people taking part in this uprising? I want to answer this question in a way that pushes back against Marxist “common sense.” I do not believe “the working-class” is an adequate category for the uprising. It would be more accurate to say that the uprising contains the working-class, petty bourgeoisie (with an emphasis on private and public salaried employees), and even bourgeois elements. This is reflected in the apparently not insignificant number of protestors who earn salaries of more than $150,000, and the support, if only nominally and cynically, by major multinational corporations. I do not think it is appropriate to say this particular beginning of politics is simply an early form of a general “class politics” that must be channeled and led by a worker’s party. We must address the moment in its singularity and resist any appeal to “Marxist” theory consistent with an abstract, Hegelian dialectic.18 I believe we must accept that the “spontaneous” and “unorganized” masses appear more radical than the largest socialist organization in the US, including many of its Marxist tendencies.

That being said, class antagonism is certainly present in the uprising. The problem is that this class antagonism seems to be expressed through a fusion of contradictory elements that take different forms of protest in different places. Marching and looting have occurred at different times of day by what appear to be different groups. Thus, the class antagonism is not reducible to a classical Marxist proletarian struggle, but appears in an overdetermined, anti-racist movement against the state that is particular to the moments of protest occurring in different places with their different rhythms. The complexity of the conjuncture shows we are in (yet another) “exceptional” circumstance.19

To make things more complicated, the class antagonism itself contains different tendencies due to the economic, political, and ideological relations of the classes involved.20 Let’s take the petty-bourgeois element as an example, which we should point out is also an element that has assumed a dominant role in the movement for socialism. As Nicos Poulantzas has made clear, the petty bourgeoisie is a complex class made of groupings of subgroupings.21 Crucially, it has no real ideological position of its own. Instead, the petty bourgeoisie creates a “sub-ensemble” of ideology by “twisting and adapting” bourgeois ideology to its “aspirations” of mobility while simultaneously borrowing in greater degree “from working-class ideology,” which it similarly “deflects and adapts” to its “own aspirations.”22 One result of this is the petty-bourgeois “status quo anti-capitalism” that takes a position “against ‘big money’ and ‘great fortunes’ and “aspires to ‘social justice,’ through State redistribution of income.”23 Since the petty bourgeoisie “fears proletarianization” and “upheaval,” the petty bourgeoisie

aspires to ‘participate’ in the ‘distribution’ of political power, without wanting a radical transformation of it…It aspires to be the ‘arbiter’ of society, because as Marx says, it would like the whole of society to become petty-bourgeois.24

I believe the socialist and Black Lives Matter movements must combat this dominant petty-bourgeois tendency. This tendency is a force of neutralization that seeks to simply alter the state and maintain class society: it is the same force of neutralization that emerged from the end of the Black protest movement in the late 1960s early 1970s. More importantly, this “status quo anti-capitalist” tendency is obscured if we reduce the Black Lives Matter movement, or the DSA for that matter, to “working class” politics.

We can see that we must take the Black Lives Matter movement in its own terms and think about it in its singular complexity. It is still unclear what lasting political forms the Black Lives Matter movement will adopt, if any. But if the beginning of politics coincides with a break from the two-party system in particular and state organizations in general then perhaps its amorphous, “spontaneous” character makes it more difficult to neutralize. This is to say that the beginning of politics the uprising expresses is more unknown and comes with greater uncertainty as it reaches across various groups and organizations and the many people who are returning to the streets and entering them for the first time.

Where Beginnings Meet

While I have discussed the Black Lives Matter and socialist movements separately to attend to their singular beginnings, it is clear these movements meet in various ways. I believe both movements must be open to the other if they are to make the break from their beginnings and constitute an emancipatory politics. 

Given that the Black Lives Matter movement has a more radical character, given that racism has proven time and again to be the stumbling block of previous movements for socialism and communism, the movement for socialism must embrace it in an emphatic way. While labor and tenant organizing, eviction defense, and unemployed councils are all great starting points for advancing emancipatory struggle, these abstract tactics must be thought through and alongside the organizations that compose the uprising and Black Lives Matter movement. Rather than turn to the historical dead-ends of the Democratic party and CPUSA, we must trust that appropriate emancipatory forms will emerge as we engage in the local, national, and international organizing that this moment makes possible.

The rally and demonstration around the ILWU’s Juneteenth work stoppage of seaports down the west coast is an excellent example of these two beginnings meeting. This demonstration brought many organizations together, including the DSA, the Party for Socialism and Liberation, and others. For the DSA in particular, this was an extremely rare coordinated action between the San Francisco and East Bay chapters. Thousands turned out for the morning rally at the Port of Oakland to hear speeches from the Black leadership of the majority Black ILWU Local 10, Danny Glover, and Angela Davis. We marched in the streets shouting the names of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor to Oscar Grant Plaza. We should note that “Oscar Grant Plaza” is this place’s unofficial name, and that this name began with Occupy Oakland.

What organizing projects put anti-racism at the center of our work to destroy the capitalist mode of production and the political and ideological relations it depends on? How might a commitment to anti-racism express itself in an organization that is majority white? How can relationships be formed and deepened with trade and tenant unions around this cause in addition to advancing their struggle for better working and living conditions? What resources can the DSA make available to assist local anti-racist organizations in an effort to build and potentially lead anti-racist coalitions? I believe we must pursue these questions together.

Before I close, I must admit that the Juneteenth event was not without tension. The morning ILWU rally began with a blessing from a Black preacher who stated that “Black lives matter” and that “all lives matter.” Following him, a member of the ILWU forcefully declared we would be having a “peaceful” protest; either the preacher or this ILWU member affirmed the importance of voting. Later, a member of ILWU leadership said that “good cops need to start checking bad cops.”

Now there were a few grumbles around me when these things were said. It is clear there are more contradictions present in our emancipatory beginnings than I have been able to attend to. But perhaps these statements were allowed to pass because the day was only beginning. Perhaps we all understood that this movement itself is only a beginning, and that as such, the patience to struggle is necessary.

Hold Your Fire!: A Warning to the Left

Daniel Newman urges patience and caution in the face of current political turmoil. 

The worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. The deadliest pandemic since the Spanish Flu. The largest protest wave in U.S. history. The most dangerous political tensions in recent memory.

Our world is in crisis and you are afraid. Your friends are afraid. This is natural and inevitable. The question is how to grapple with this fear appropriately–how to channel it in a way that is rational and productive.

We are socialists and aspiring revolutionaries. Most of us are young, although this is of course not always the case. And we are dreading–and dreaming–of a fight. On one hand we are overjoyed by the unprecedented popular rebellion. On another we are enraged by the brutality of the police and disgusted by the hypocrisy of the liberal establishment. On one day we are terrified of impending violence and repression. On another we fear that this whole situation is a mirage and a waste of time, that we will always be marginal and politically impotent. 

Even the tension between these emotions can be extremely distressing. It is enough to make any radical daydream about picking up a gun and marching to war.

But this is not a war and you are not a soldier. You do not have military assets. You almost certainly lack military training. You do not serve in a unit, report to commanding officers, or live out your life in a barracks. A mass protest wave is not a war; a riot is not a war; even sectarian murder in the street is not, in itself, a war. If you pretend that these things are a literal war, you are at best a child playing with toy soldiers. At worst, you are putting yourself and your comrades at risk of injury, humiliation, even death, all for the sake of your ego.

The best thing you can be right now is patient. You can rise to the occasion and do the work our time demands with tremendous courage and dignity. But only if you accept that this work is almost entirely boring and unglamorous. You must observe the new world around you with a sober mind. Although it may fill you with terror and inspiration, do not let these feelings intoxicate you, and never pretend that you can predict the future. There are only a range of possibilities, some more likely than others, and some that will go completely unforeseen.

What Is Happening?

In your political reflections, you are probably used to thinking in terms of years (often single election cycles) or decades (when reflecting on long-term strategies). But right now you are being forced to think and live on a dramatically different time scale, one much shorter than what you are used to. Even the next two months seem impossible to imagine.

Political tensions are escalating. Urban unrest will continue to some degree, and the Right will continue to retaliate with despicable violence. We have yet to see whether the murders in Kenosha will encourage a protracted wave of right-wing attacks. Given the overt complicity of police and right-wing media, this seems quite likely.

American society has polarized in a way that is extraordinarily one-sided. Roughly one-third of the population has joined a paranoid right-wing lynch mob. Its champion is Trump, his family dynasty, and his court of lackeys and bootlickers. Hunting like a pack of wolves, the mob finds enemies around every corner and lumps all of them together. As socialists, we resent Biden and Trump, the Democratic Party and the Republicans. The Right does not perceive these divisions. It sees a united terrorist conspiracy of Antifa-Biden-Atheist-Communist-Muslim-illegal-Democrats, funded by Jewish bankers and Satanic pedophiles. MAGA loyalism has become a permanent political identity in the United States. Its hats may be red and it may “back the blue,” but its true color has always been the fiery orange of Donald Trump. It is armed to the teeth and thirsty for blood.

MAGA loyalists are dreaming of a savage civil war, but there will be no civil war. The vast majority of leftists understand this, but the point cannot be emphasized enough. There is no army interested in fighting such a war. The police may firmly support Trump, but they are schoolyard bullies with no capacity to fight a real army. Their armored cars would be flattened in ten seconds by the tanks of the U.S. military.

And the military will act as one unit; it will not fracture into opposing sides. In the event of a disputed election, the military can be expected to present a face of cold neutrality, likely taking cues from other institutions such as Congress and the Secret Service. Its real concern will be to preserve order and the illusion of a democratic transition. Talk of impending civil war is extremely irresponsible and only gives fuel to the Right’s demented fantasies.

That leaves open the possibility of massive demonstrations, street fights, riots, and even terrorism, but not an actual civil war. Nor will it be a revolution. Not when the leader of the glorious Resistance is Joe Biden, a rule-follower and good old boy who will always prefer order to justice. The real decision-makers, the higher-ups orange and blue–Republican and Democrat–will almost certainly reach a settlement by January. I won’t pretend to foresee the specific details. No one can.

But our side–the real reds–will not get a slice of the cake. Not only socialists, but the entire progressive-minded constituency we appeal to will face repression, no matter who wins. An incoming Biden administration will be eager to distance themselves from and make an example of “violent” leftist protesters. The Democrats love bipartisanship. As defeated MAGA loyalists vent their rage in the streets, our new rulers will be anxious to launch an equal-opportunity crackdown. They will neutralize the wildest Trumpers by locking them up, and then they will appease the rest by arresting the rioters on our side.

There’s nothing good coming soon. That leaves you with two options. Flame out, or hold your fire and build something.

It’s all too easy to flame out in anger and desperation. You would not be the first young revolutionary to do it. Faced with electoral defeat and police repression, the Weather Underground took that path in the late 1960s and ’70s. As a radical splinter from the Students for a Democratic Society, the flagship organization of the 1960s campus left, they had grown quite tired of weak-tea social democracy. Eager for something more exciting, they raged and rioted all across America, plotting and scheming and blowing up buildings. 

They bombed the Pentagon, the Capitol Building, the very heart of the federal government, all to bring on the revolution and destroy the American empire. It didn’t happen. All they destroyed was an endless lineup of ladies’ restrooms where they chose to plant their explosives. After a decade of hardship on the run, they finally learned that they could not overthrow America by vandalizing toilets.

Wanted poster for Weather Underground members

On the bright side, you can meet them if you like. They’re alive and well today, and doing fine for themselves as writers, lawyers and professors. They’re still active in politics as well: some of them are working quite hard for Joe Biden.

They were intelligent young people with good intentions and in terms of underlying character, not very different from us. Their grief was the same as ours. They lived through an atrocious colonial war, riots, unprecedented protests, and the election of a vicious reactionary president. Fred Hampton, the great Black Panther leader, furiously demanded that they restrain themselves. Then the FBI and Chicago Police Department murdered Fred Hampton in his own bed, as he slept with his pregnant wife.

The times drove the Weathermen to irrational and ineffective violence. They were an extreme case, a fringe within a fringe. But their irresponsible decisions embodied and hastened the decay of the 1960s left.

You have fewer excuses than they do. There was less cause for hope in the late 1960s and 1970s, more cause for total desperation. The urban riots of that era were almost completely contained in black communities—rage vented inward, excited by radical politics but incapable of truly advancing them. The white student left was courageous and filled with visionaries, but its principal grievance was limited to the Vietnam War. As that conflict was wound down, so too did white student revolt. State repression continued and the broad antiwar movement slowly died out, leaving the radical remnant to stew in their anger and grief.

Whatever we may be facing, it is not the end of mass revolt. It is a new beginning, the fitful awakening of Revolutionary America. We have witnessed something truly unprecedented in living U.S. history: an interracial uprising against police brutality, black people and white people, and many others physically fighting against state violence side by side. Our anger is not aimless; it is politicized. It has attacked political targets, invented political slogans, and raised explicitly political demands. Meanwhile, the broad social democratic movement–led until recently by Bernie Sanders–has displayed more focus and more hardheaded ambition than the freewheeling radicalism of the ‘60s left. Like the George Floyd Rebellion, its grievances are domestic, rooted in profound inequality and economic hardship. Its discontent will not easily be quelled, not without transformative changes to American society. 

Although it may seem counterintuitive, these domestic grievances are also good for socialist internationalism. Every major college campus in America has its feel-good internationalists who protest against war as a pure show of idealism. But real internationalism, the kind that can mobilize and sustain millions of people, draws connections between struggles abroad and lived experiences at home. It is easier to sympathize with Palestinian demonstrators when you yourself have been tear-gassed by police. It is easier to be enraged by the coup in Bolivia when you yourself have organized with a democratic socialist movement.

Real international solidarity is a two-way street. You both take and give inspiration. That is why the Russian revolutionaries fought for a revolution that would spread across Europe, why the Sandinistas hoped to spark revolt against dictatorships throughout Latin America, and why Irish revolutionaries dreamt of “taking their place among the republics of the world.” It is also why the George Floyd Rebellion inspired anti-racism demonstrations from Germany to Japan, and why volunteers across the globe traveled to America to assist the Bernie Sanders campaign. Despite decades of humiliation, the U.S. working class is beginning to display moments of exemplary struggle.

Our struggle is political. Bernie Sanders raised the pride, dignity, and self-esteem of a generation, giving it a new conception of its human rights and historic destiny. Despite his profound shortcomings, his disastrous defeat, and his cowardly sell-out to Joe Biden, engagement in the Bernie campaign was never a waste of time for leftists. Those of us who organized for him were exactly where we were supposed to be, playing out our part in a historical process that is much larger than any of us.

What the Hell to Do?

Your job now is to keep the flame burning, to help build a stronger vessel for working-class discontent than the Bernie Sanders campaign. Where can we do that? In the streets, with sticks and stones?

Absolutely not. Protests, even spectacular mass actions, are a useful way to harden our resolve, show our numbers, deliver immediate retaliation, and advance specific goals. They are certainly a necessary tool. But when activists artificially prolong and escalate them, they become an aimless ritual for thrill-seekers. The adrenaline of endless street rallies impedes sober reflection on political goals, making it harder for us to convert our attention-grabbing slogans into an inspiring vision. We have seen this dynamic many times since the eruptions in late May. Protest militants raise the most “radical” rallying cries they can imagine, such as full police abolition. Then, when asked hardheaded questions about what “abolition” actually means, they falter. Even the president of the Minneapolis City Council drifted into such vague posturing when she dismissed as “privileged” the question of how home invasions would be dealt with in a police-free world. 

None of this is an insult to those of us who have risked life and limb in the streets. It is simply the invisible toll, mental and physical, of a strategy that focuses entirely on “action.” Prolonged exposure to stressful situations—including unpredictable demonstrations—raises cortisol levels in the body, increasing heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety, depression, fatigue, and irritability. This is only compounded by the constant stream of upsetting news that we are receiving daily from both friends and the media. Comrades should strive to avoid unnecessary stressors, exercise frequently, and recognize that all of us are experiencing heightened anxiety and lapsed judgment.

If there is anything you should learn from this ongoing protest wave, it should be the following:

1) The United States needs a profound, world-historic revolution.

2) Riots and unrest are not sufficient to bring one about.

If riots and unrest won’t cut it, what about spontaneous labor actions or a general strike? These ideas may seem like more constructive paths forward, but they are not! Most members of the American working class have never been on any kind of strike, let alone a disorganized “general” one. Now they are living through a national nightmare and are terrified for their economic future. You can’t convince people to risk their livelihoods and their family’s health by sharing slogans on Twitter. Labor organizing is a difficult process that requires tremendous patience, determination, and professionalism.

So, should you get involved in conventional labor activism? Certainly, if you can find a good opportunity to do so. But you must understand the limitations of this work. With several important exceptions, unions in the United States are controlled by liberals, by bureaucrats who align themselves with the same Democratic Party that heartlessly crushed the Sanders insurgency. These leaders have no real interest in empowering working people or waging militant struggle on their behalf. That is not an excuse to reject the labor movement, but it does call for perspective. Many socialists immerse themselves completely in union work, thinking that independent left politics will only be possible after labor realigns and grows itself a spine.

Don’t fall into that trap. Unions are under the political control, the political influence of Democrats. This means that they need a political alternative, a new civic identity and philosophy of action that can inspire rank and file members. We must establish this alternate pole of attraction. Reforming unions from within as isolated individuals would take decades to accomplish; it would force us to banish all independent political organizing to the distant future. In this time of crisis and upheaval, such a strategy is far too timid, gradualistic, and deferential to existing labor leaders. Where riots and wildcat strikes go too fast, union realignment goes far too slow.

So, should we return to working within the Democratic Party, aiming to realign it from within? We tried that twice in recent memory, and many more times in the past century. Every time, Democrats have crushed and humiliated these projects, and the recent Sanders defeat stings like none before it. Our conflict with the party establishment is not a gentle family disagreement. Much of our constituency is temporarily convinced of this, thanks to Biden’s shallow overtures and Trump’s terrifying brutality. But the illusion will not last.

Our conflict is a bitter struggle for power, and the emotional impulse to hit back against the Democrats is basically correct. If the Democrats take back control of the government, they will impose brutal austerity on America in the middle of an economic depression. They are making this goal increasingly obvious. In such a situation, we cannot afford to be junior coalition partners, gently criticizing and challenging them one-by-one in isolated low-turnout primaries. Millions of working-class people would rightly associate us with the party of Joe Biden, Nancy Pelosi, and Chuck Schumer, severely damaging our credibility.

We must overtly condemn the Democratic record and challenge their right to lord it over our country. We need an independent left political force, preferably a thoroughly socialist one, with a true national constituency. We need our own colors, our own branding and identity. We also need a commitment to a literal, old-fashioned revolution against Democratic neoliberalism, Republican reaction, and the elitist constitutional order that props up both of them. American socialists should draw lessons from the old anti-colonial struggles of the 20th century and learn to project a spirit of dignity, composed militancy, and self-assurance. For too long we have relied on wavering figures like Sanders and AOC as our public figureheads. The time is ripe to make our own debut as an independent force in American national politics. We can rely on ourselves alone.

This brings us to a simple conclusion: we need a party. We’ve needed one for a long time. We must bring it about as soon as possible. 

The obstacles to such a project are well-known and formidable. But that is no excuse for us to evade our historic responsibility. We need to develop a new brand of revolutionary socialism that is tailored to our country’s unique history of struggle and its backward political institutions. We must do it together because no single person has all of the answers for such a monumental task.

That means we must begin by engaging in non-sectarian socialist organizations that are willing to accept open dialogue. The Democratic Socialists of America and the Marxist Center are prepared for this discussion and have quietly awaited it for years. Howie Hawkins and his socialist wing of the Green Party will also have a valuable role to play. Unlike Trotskyist and Stalinist groupings, all of these organizations are committed to political pluralism and capable of critical self-reflection. DSA will have a particularly unique responsibility because of its large membership base and relatively high public profile. Membership should view its 2021 summer convention as a pivotal moment to begin concrete steps towards an independent party. 

In the coming months, independent-minded socialists should be as active as possible in their organizations. There is a great deal of organizing work that needs to be done. As winter arrives in the middle of an economic downturn, tenant organizing will become extraordinarily important. Tenant unionism has the potential to engage millions of Americans in victorious class struggle for the first time in their lives, and may well serve as the backbone of the coming revolutionary movement. At the same time, we should begin to discuss among each other the need for political independence and the immediate steps necessary to bring it about. 

Prepare yourself mentally for the events of November through January and expect the unexpected. When mass demonstrations arrive, you may be driven to take part in them. But choose your battles with extreme caution and do not get swept away into militaristic posturing. At best you will be a reluctant pawn in a liberal PR campaign to win over the security state. The outcome will not be decided by civilian firepower.

Meanwhile, lawful community self-defense may very well be necessary in the coming years. But these efforts will require many months of reflection and formalized training; they cannot be rolled out on the spot. This is particularly true because the Left cannot emulate the right-wing militias that brutalize us. The Trumper militias are little more than undisciplined mobs; their only purpose is to dish out terrorism on behalf of the police. Our goal is to save lives, not to randomly shoot them down, to cultivate revolutionary discipline, not unleash our sectarian rage against soft targets.

Revolutionary discipline is many things. For some of us, it means holding back on truly violent impulses that put others in physical danger. For most of us, it means more mundane things, like avoiding needless infighting and looking out for the vulnerable comrades who are close to us. Above all else, it means maintaining a commitment to the movement, and remembering that politics comes before the gun (and even the megaphone).

A single spark can light a prairie fire, but it is much more likely to burn your house down. Remember that no matter what happens, when the dust settles the United States will have a right-wing president in January. The interesting things, the real action you want to stay alive for, will come afterwards.

Because although we do not face an imminent revolution, it is quite possible that the United States has entered a decades-long revolutionary era. Whether we win will depend in part on the decisions each of us makes, on our ability to restrain our worst impulses and do boring things for the cause.

Remember our history and the warning Fred Hampton gave us–we must not repeat the errors of the past. Buckle down for a long-term revolutionary political struggle. Our time will come.

Until then,

HOLD YOUR FIRE!