Memo on DSA Electoral Campaigns

DSA member Peter Moody looks over DSA’s electoral strategy and its current application, specifically in the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez campaign, arguing that the task of making candidates accountable to the organization is far from complete. 

The Democratic Socialists of America seems poised to have two members in the next sitting of the House of Representatives- albeit elected on the Democratic Party ballot line- which would be historic for both DSA and the representation of self-described socialists in Congress generally.

This would also be notable in terms of the group’s electoral strategy, as these candidates are well-known as members of DSA, and one of the candidates in particular- Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez- has been endorsed by the national organization and received material support from it; this has also been true to varying degrees for a number of candidates for state and local office.1  This represents a shift for the organization- likely brought on in part by the ‘successful loss’ of the Bernie Sanders campaign, which helped start the ball rolling in terms of membership to get DSA to its current claimed figure of 50,000.

Previous DSA interventions in elections can probably be best described as uneven.  While it is best known on the left for promoting a strategy of ‘realigning’ the Democrats- working with trade union leaders, left liberals and progressive social movements to transform the party into a social democratic formation- its official stance has historically been one of agnosticism between explicit realignment and more tentative support for building some sort of independent political formation.  In practice, however, DSA has given at least tacit support to the Democrats and generally looked askance at electoral efforts to the party’s left- whether in the form of non-socialist radicals like the Greens, or explicitly socialist campaigns. Nevertheless, such efforts were indeed tacit: little energy or organizational resources were spent promoting Democratic candidates. Even when DSA had elected officials previously (including former Democratic member of Congress Ron Dellums), such candidates went largely unremarked, the unspoken logic behind such a stance is that socialism was saddled with too much baggage to be electorally popular outside of some minor-edge cases, and the duty of socialists was to act as the best builders of the ‘broad, progressive’ camp in order to either promote reforms or at least keep conservatives from winning office and ‘making things worse’.

In a post-Sanders political environment, however, things have changed in DSA’s estimation.  Now that some conception of socialism has entered into the wider American consciousness as a positive, the group has taken a much more proactive approach of supporting particular candidates who are DSA members. By and large, the candidates it supports are still running on the Democratic Party ballot line, but are evaluated against a document passed by DSA’s national convention last August- now the national organizations’ priority is given to supporting ‘open socialist candidates’.  Furthermore, the convention document begins to flesh out a commitment to “building a mass socialist political formation in the United States” and speaks of developing candidates (and by extension, elected officials) who are “accountable to DSA’s political agenda and who can serve as the base for increasingly assertive and widespread independent socialist electoral activity in the coming years”.

The accountability question is a vital one.  In an electoral strategy document adopted by DSA’s national political committee earlier this year, which fleshes out the principles adopted at the August convention, the desire to hold candidates running with DSA endorsement accountable to the politics and platform of the organization runs strongly throughout.  In particular, the document correctly notes some of the weaknesses of DSA’s earlier electoral efforts. Under the old method, the resources of DSA largely existed as campaign fodder, subordinate to the candidate running; once elected, said candidate possesses not only access to elected office but also the power of incumbency and but all of the resources (staff, skills, experience, a donor list) required to run a successful campaign and stay in office. On the other hand, the organization has little leverage over the candidate and little to show for the work of its volunteers.

The piece goes on to argue- again, correctly- that this model had the practical effect of subordinating the broader organization to the elected official, rather than the other way round: in order to retain association with the elected official they had to be provided with resources and loyal support, while criticism of their actions had to be either muted or silenced completely.  With such an arrangement, the elected official then had the freedom to pursue whatever agenda best suited their own political career, and DSA either needed to stop supporting said official- thereby losing the much-coveted access that they were aiming for by supporting them in the first place- or provide left cover for what may have ended up being an increasingly centrist or right-wing agenda, undermining the very politics that a socialist organization is supposedly fighting for.

Thus, from the perspective of rhetoric, DSA’s electoral strategy document represents an encouraging, if hesitant, step forward.  Unfortunately, practical proposals for how candidate accountability is to be achieved are rather thin on the ground, which leads to a de facto slide towards the previous model of jockeying for candidate access, while committing greater energy and resources.  This is compounded by DSA’s rather loose political and organizational nature, which purports to place local initiative and the free expression of members at the center of its practice. This is largely positive when it means the rank and file of the organization have the ability to self-manage their own activity, but can also mean that candidates and electoral work can still be treated in the same localist approach.

This slippage has already started in the case of DSA’s highest-profile candidate- Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.  While she prominently featured her DSA support during her campaign for the Democratic nomination (and still calls herself a “democratic socialist” on her website), her Twitter profile was largely scrubbed of DSA content after the primary, and DSA endorsement now only exists on her website as one among a constellation of progressive and left-liberal groups also supporting her campaign – as opposed to the prominent place that one would hope for the organization of which she is a member and supposed representative (and to which- again hopefully- she is accountable).  Moreover, Ocasio-Cortez has made public statements pitching herself as a loyal Democrat, seeking to support all party nominees regardless of their actual politics.  This has led the New York City chapter of DSA to publicly criticize (if perhaps rather mildly) her position. It is positive that this unconditional Democratic Party loyalty is not going unchallenged, but is yet another sign that any process of developing candidate accountability to DSA itself has a long way to go.

A version of this article originally appeared in Issue 1228 of the Weekly Worker, the paper of the Communist Party of Great Britain.

From Workers’ Party to Workers’ Republic

Donald Parkinson takes a look at the history of the First, Second and Third Internationals, arguing for an approach to party-building and political strategy that is informed by the positives and negatives of these experiences. 

KPD rally in 1924

This piece aims to be an engagement in wider debates occurring in the left on the question of the party and revolutionary strategy, particularly in the US. Calling for a “workers party” is hardly a unique position in US leftism. What this actually means, however, is a whole other issue, with much of the far-left attached to a strategy of lobbying the Democrats as a sufficient alternative. My aim here will be not to convince those who have failed to comprehend the obvious – that a party and participation in mass politics independent from the Democrats is needed if we want to achieve any radical political goals. In recent leftist history, it was perhaps a controversial point to argue that a new revolutionary workers party should be the goal of the left, with ideas of “horizontalism” and “changing the world without taking power” having active currency. In the diffused activist left around the time of the Occupy protests, a sort of anarchist common sense that parties and state power were inherently oppressive reigned dominant. Now it is clear to more people that to change the world one must engage in mass politics, and that to do so we must organize around a vision of change, or a program. This necessitates forming a party, an organization of people who collectively share a commitment to a program. Yet what kind of party we are fighting for is a topic of intense debate, regarding both its form as well as general strategic orientation. To develop a genuine Communist Party, we will need a positive vision of what we are working for. My aim in this piece is to help develop such a positive vision. I will begin with a historical overview of the party question, then critique modern Leninism, articulate what an alternative vision of a party and strategy may look like, consider the question of whether revolution is necessary and what it entails, and speculate on what a future workers republic that puts the working class into power (and on the path to communism) may look like.

As well as the general assumption of the necessity of a party, my arguments will rest on another general assumption, which is that we need to form a Communist Party instead of a simple Labor Party. Some may immediately insist there is no difference, and that communists are never separate from any general party of the working class. However, a party can have a working-class base and only fight for the interests of the national working class within the state as a sort of corporate group with interests that can be balanced with the needs of the whole nation. A Labor Party that merely fights for legislation within the confines of the nation to benefit the immediate position of said nation’s working class is not a party that fights for the actual long-term interests of the working class, which is to globally unite. In fact, such parties, because they are national in character, must help maintain the competitiveness of that nation-state on a global capitalist market. This means the party can only go so far even in benefitting its working-class base. It also serves to divide the working class along national lines. Following these criteria, such Labor Parties can be categorized as ‘Bourgeois Labor Parties’. They fight for the interests of labor within the confines of the bourgeois order, even if they at times come in contradiction. In the end, it is the goal of the bureaucracies of ‘Bourgeois Labor Parties’ to win the loyalty of the rank and file and smooth over these contradictions, often through appeals to nationalism and imperial projects.

Some leftist groups will argue that we must first agitate for such a party, and then form factions within it so communists can do entryism in order to transform the party into a vehicle for revolution. This approach is to be rejected out of hand. Communists should organize the kind of party that we need, which is not a bourgeois Labor Party that fights for the immediate interests of one national section of the class, but for the long-term interests of the world proletariat. This means a party organized around a program for a worldwide workers republic and the long-term goal of communism. A Communist Party cannot merely be a Labor Party with a red flag, but must directly agitate for communism and internationalism, fight against all forms of oppression, and disdain to conceal its aims. It must not merely sit at the bargaining table as a good faith representative of the class, but act as a party of opposition not beholden to loyalty towards the bourgeois rule of law and constitution. Before going any further into describing the ideal Communist Party, we shall look at the history of the First, Second and Third Internationals which represented the global communist movement at its height.

Marx speaks to the Communist League

From the Communist League to the Comintern

To begin, we shall start with Marx and Engels on the issue of the party and trace the development of Marxist thought through the Second and Third Internationals. Marx and Engels’ views on the state and politics changed and developed over time, as they did on issues such as colonialism and historiography. The topic of revolutionary organization was no exception.

Marx wasn’t the first Communist and became embedded in an already existing movement of revolutionaries that ranged from radical republican neo-Jacobins, utopian socialists, conspiratorial socialists aiming to follow the tradition of Babeuf, “True Socialists”, Chartists, and Proudhonian mutualists. The organization that became the Communist League, the League of the Just, was similar to the secretive societies in the tradition of Babeuf’s Conspiracy of Equals and politically dominated by Weitlings “true socialism”. Marx and Engels would, of course, renovate the League, infusing it with their materialist conception of history and political strategy oriented around class struggle. Yet the Communist League still retained the shell of a Communist organization rooted in a tradition that existed before Marx and Engels developed a concrete view of the party.

After the experience of the Communist League, Marx focused on his own studies before joining into another party-building venture. Marx, in an 1860 letter to the poet Ferdinand Freiligrath, described the Communist League as only a party in the “ephemeral sense” and compared it to the Blanquist Société de Saisons.1 From this, it is clear that Marx had developed a critique of the original Communist League and believed its organizational apparatus was suited for an earlier, less mature period of class struggle. A small militant minority acting in a mass uprising, the 1848 revolution, had proven to be insufficient for the needs of the proletariat. This critique of his old organization can be seen as influential to his later political career.

Marx, inspired by his involvement in the First International, would develop his own understanding of the party as a sort of mass workers association united around a minimum program of working-class independence. By this Marx did not mean that only waged workers could join the party or that the program would only benefit waged workers, rather, all members were disciplined around a program which expressed the general interests of the working class as opposed to the interests of other classes. For Marx, this entailed the abolition of the wage-system, with which would bring the emancipation of all humanity. It was not a party of the “whole people” as the bourgeois parties would proclaim, but a party of opposition rooted in the combined strength of the organized working class.

The combination of workers across countries culminated into the First International and could be seen as a general united front of different tendencies in the workers’ movement. There were public factions that openly debated their views and aimed for political victories through majoritarian democracy. Marx recognized his own tendency was not dominant, facing opposition from followers of Lasalle, Proudhon, Bakunin, and many others. Yet overall, it was no single ‘ideology’ or school of thought that dominated the International, beyond basic republican virtues. Rather, the party was united around a founding program, and its centralism was based on the party program. This was something the First International worked up to as opposed to a program that was forced on membership. It would be through democratic deliberation that unity would be found, even if Marx had no doubt his views should be implemented by the party (as does any political partisan).

This form of the party would influence the Second International after the First International collapsed over debates between the followers of Marx and Bakunin. Like the First International, the Second International was a federation of national parties with their own programs, bound to rules set at the general congress. Yet the level of centralism was low on the international level. Politically, the Second International was based on a compromise between the Lasallean “state socialists” and orthodox Marxists. The Lasallean current believed in using bourgeois elections to win funding for workers cooperatives and state workshops, endorsing a form of socialism that unlike Marxism directly embraced the capitalist state. In 1881 Karl Kautsky, set to become the leading theorist of Marxist orthodoxy, would condemn the “state socialism” of Lasalleans as “… socialism by the state and for the state. It is socialism by the government and for the government. It is thus socialism by the ruling classes and for the ruling classes.”2 For Marxism to consolidate itself in the Social-Democratic movement its adherents had to win the political struggle against other currents of socialism. This eventually became the case. 

In 1891 the largest party in the International, the German SPD, would draft the classic Erfurt Programme under the theoretical guidance of Kautsky which symbolized the achievement of Marxist domination over the party. This didn’t mean the entire International took up the ‘orthodox’ Marxist line, as dissident factions still existed. The classic instance is the example of Bernstein’s revisionists, who argued against revolution in favor of evolutionary reform to transform the capitalist state into socialism. Bernstein was also pro-colonialist, and while the Second International hardly extended beyond Eurocentrism in practice, in writing it was a majority anti-colonial party. Until 1914, Bernstein’s views represented a minority. While anarchists had been successfully removed from the party, the SPD accommodated these revisionist trends. While the Second International represented a continuity with the First International in its diversity of trends, it was relatively more consolidated politically while still retaining sharply divergent factions. The tension with the ‘revisionists’ in the Second International is illustrated by Rosa Luxemburg’s call for the expulsion of the revisionist wing in 1898. This move was unsuccessful, as Kautsky and Bebel defended their right as a minority tendency. The need for greater political unity around the program was seen as overriding these ideological differences, despite Kautsky’s intense scrutiny and critique of the revisionist wing.3

The general strategy of the Second International laid out by Kautsky in his classic Road to Power, can be summarized as a “strategy of attrition” or “revolutionary patience”. This strategy was somewhat based on arguments made to Wilhelm Liebknecht by Engels that the party should “not fritter away this daily increasing shock in vanguard skirmishes, but keep it intact until the decisive day.”4 In other words, one must build an army before going into battle. According to Kautsky, the party would grow increasingly large through success in electoral and trade union work, as well as through its “alternative culture”, which grew to include party schools, hiking clubs, cycling groups, a rowing club, socialist choirs, women’s associations, and mutual aid organizations along with a variety of party publications. Elections would show not only how much success the party had in winning over the general public but would mobilize the working class in political campaigns to develop their class awareness. The party also spearheaded the union movement, helping transform the union movement from guild-like organizations with sectoral interests into a unified trade unionist movement.5 Overall, as the crisis of capitalism developed, the ranks of the party would grow until the contradictions of capitalism would eventually lead to a moment of crisis where the party could take power and install a workers republic. The party must be careful not to rush into insurrection or provoke the class enemy into repression; the memory of Bismarck’s anti-socialist laws and how they held back class organization was not forgotten. This meant that the party should not simply fight for economic gains but also for democratic rights. These fights were seen to educate the working class in the art of politics and prepare the class to become the body able to govern society. While not all Second International parties maintained this principle, the German SPD refused to enter into electoral alliances in coalition governments with the bourgeois parties or send ministers into the executive government. The proletariat could only take power on its own terms when it had mass support and capitalism was in collapse.

Stuttgart Congress of the Second International, 1907

This general strategy still has much merit within it, yet has largely been rejected in whole by revolutionary Marxists in favor of the Third International (or Comintern) model that dismisses the Second International model as entirely reformist. There is a good reason for this – the strategy ultimately failed as the Second International parties developed nationalist tendencies. When the moment of crisis arose in WWI, the majority of parties became partisans of their own nation rather than their class. Internationalism was easy to proclaim, but when the tough moments came it wasn’t easy to live by. This, of course, led to the departure of radicals from the Second International and after the Bolshevik Revolution the creation of a Third, Communist International. Social democracy had split into reformist Social-Democrats and proper revolutionary Communists, and the Communist International, or Comintern, aimed to consolidate all revolutionary Communists in a single world party. The Comintern was an attempt to replace the decrepit Second International with a properly revolutionary Marxist organization, initially composed of veterans of the old Second International parties and minorities of newly radicalized workers, often straight out of the trenches. It was formed on the observation that global capitalism had entered a period of ‘Wars and Revolution’ where capitalism itself was in decline and the revolutionary proletariat ascendent. In a way, the initial Comintern saw itself as a “general staff” of the world proletariat, with each national section acting as a battalion that would be sent into battle in a global civil war against capitalism. Many workers joined the early Comintern parties wanting to immediately deploy to the front of this battle.6

The Comintern was founded not only on the assumption that the period of ‘wars and revolution’ demanded a shift in political strategy, but also that a radical break was needed from all aspects of the Second International. This was based on the correct observation that the politics of the Second International materialized as a right-wing distortion that led to the disaster of 1914. The Third International introduced a more centralized structure and required its parties to purge themselves of reformist influences. The idea was to make it impossible for someone like an Ebert or Schneiderman (SPD leaders who would come into government and have a hand in crushing the Communist Spartakus Uprising) to win leadership over the party. This centralized structure resembled a military chain of command, reflecting the view that parties were soon going to be engaged in armed civil war. It also reflected changes in the Bolshevik Party itself, from a more democratic mass organization to a militarized war party. For many radicalized workers and intellectuals, October had signaled the dying days of capitalism. It was the job of the workers of the world to join in and finish what the Bolsheviks had started. Purging the party was seen as a tool used to strengthen its ranks and maintain purity from the influence of reformists. This policy had appeal due to the treachery of Social-Democracy, which had once again helped the bourgeoisie spill proletarian blood in their role of the suppression of the Spartakusbund as well as its support for Kerensky’s provisional government in Russia, which had continued an offensive war in Germany. By its second congress, the Comintern had set up a non-negotiable list of 21 political conditions that its parties had to adhere to. Like any program, these 21 conditions were a way of setting the boundaries of party membership. This created political divisions with the reformist socialists over a variety of issues. Of these, imperialism was key, a wedge that separated authentic communists from social-chauvinists.

The Comintern made a deliberate effort to overcome the Eurocentrism of previous Internationals by attempting to form parties throughout the entire world. Anti-colonialism became a priority, reflected by the Baku Conference where Zinoviev called for revolutionaries in the colonial world to join the world revolution. For these reasons alone, the Third International was an improvement of the Second. Marxists moved towards a truly internationalist universalism which saw the entire world as having agency in the revolutionary process and struggled politically against internal European chauvinism. To quote Zinoviev in his debate with Martov at the Halle Conference (in response to Martov mocking Bolshevik efforts to win over third world revolutionaries at the Baku Conference), “‘the Second International was restricted to people with white skin. The Third International does not classify people according to the colour of their skin”.7 Whether or not the Comintern took the correct programmatic approach to anti-colonialism is another important discussion. Though with an increased centralization and a serious attempt to exist at an international scale, the Comintern was more of a proper “world party”. This was a vital correction of the Second International’s nationalist deviations. While they planned for the proletariat to take power in one country at a time, the Comintern properly aimed to unite the proletariat in a world revolution. What was then unclear was how protracted the struggle for a world revolution would actually be.

While the Second International made rightist deviations, the early Comintern could be said to have made “ultra-left” distortions, in some ways regressing to the Communist League’s strategy of a militant minority acting in a semi-spontaneous mass uprising. If the Second International had a “strategy of patience”, the Third was plagued with a sort of revolutionary impatience, acting on the assumption of inevitable world revolution and increased faith in the power of a militant revolutionary minority. This was partly due to a desire to break from social democracy in favor of a more insurrectionary politics, a militant working class minority that wanted to fight the class enemy as soon as possible, and a misreading of the Bolshevik Revolution as a takeover by a small party. The break from the tactics of social-democracy had the benefit of allowing for the promotion of more militant tactics like mass strikes and accounted for the possibility of violent clashes with capitalist reaction before the seizure of power. However, this also would lead to a fetishization of direct action and spontaneity. For the most extremist members like Bela Kun, the party was conceived as a “militant minority” that would push the masses into revolutionary action as mass strikes erupted, inevitably throwing the proletariat into struggle against a decaying capitalism. While the Third International had become more willing to break the straightjacket of constitutional legalism, it overestimated both the capacity of the “militant minority” to spring the working class into action by intervening in waves of mass strikes, a process that could lead to the formation of Soviets that could command political authority and be lead by the Comintern parties to communism.

This tactic had a big problem: the majority of the working class was not aligned with the Comintern and still had loyalties to the SPD. The question of leadership of the labor movement had yet to be seriously dealt with, and the hegemony of Social-Democracy was underestimated. In its first four congresses, the Comintern would increasingly come to grips with this fact and tried to develop a strategy of winning the working class over from Social-Democracy. Lenin’s Left-Wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder can be seen as a polemic against tendencies in the Comintern that aimed rush into battle without winning leadership over the labor movement, and an implicit reminder that certain tactics of the Second International were still useful. Many of the “Lefts” Lenin was arguing against, like Herman Gorter and Anton Pannekoek, claimed that the historical situation had changed and that it was now necessary to abstain from elections and break with unions in favor of factory organizations. They saw such tactics as a remnant of an earlier phase of the workers’ movement which was made obsolete and even harmful by the tactics of mass strikes, with workers councils being the key forms of proletarian organization. Some “Lefts” were in favor of a minority “vanguard party” that would guide the spontaneous struggle of the workers’ councils, while others such as Otto Rühle were against party organization entirely. However, by making these bold statements about tactics and the historical periods they belonged to, the Lefts were incapable of adapting to changing situations. Strong theoretical chops and an ability to see past the opportunism of reformists were not enough without a keen sense of politics. Organizing for revolution requires tactical flexibility: the proletariat must use every tactic possible to win. For Lenin in his rebuttal to the “Lefts”, what was important was not tactics, but the animating principle behind them. Lenin argued winning elections and leadership of the unions were not tactics inherently corrupted by the legacy of Social Democracy, but rather tactics that needed to be utilized for revolutionary rather than reformist ends. If they failed to do so, they simply ceded ground to reformists. The left tendency in the Comintern was not simply reflected in the ideas of a few idealist intellectuals lost in abstractions and separate from the class struggle, but also within the rank-and-file itself. There was a strong distrust of Social-Democrats and the union bureaucracy among the rank-and-file and for good reason. This distrust would last through to the rise of Hitler, yet the rank-and-file of both parties also showed a willingness to unite from below. However, as long as long the as the SPD held hegemony over the German labor movement, the KPD would not be able to take power except via a putsch.

Responding to relative isolation in the broader working class movement and faced with the dominance of Social-Democracy even after the war, Comintern theorists like Bela Kun devised the “theory of the offensive” where the communist “militant minority” would attempt to incite militant conflict with the state, aiming to shake reformist workers out of their Menshevik boots and spring them into militant action against the state itself alongside the communist vanguard. The aim was to as Mao put it, be the spark that lit the prairie fire, to push the working class into action thought the militant vanguard. This strategy manifested itself in the KPD’s March Action which failed miserably and simply divided the working class movement even further. The KPD’s effort to “go on the offensive” did not see the Social-Democratic workers join Communist workers against the wishes of their leaders, it instead saw KPD and SPD workers fighting each other in the streets and an unleashing of state repression when already under constant threat from right-wing militias. Based on this experience, the idea of a minority or vanguard acting decisively to push the masses into more radical action was shown to be an ineffective strategy. There was no shortcut to winning a revolutionary majority. The March Action would be an astounding failure – hundreds of Communists killed, around 6000 arrested, and 4000 convicted including key party leaders like Heinrich Brandler. Party membership was essentially halved, with hundreds of thousands of workers leaving, slimming the ranks of the party from approximately 400,000 to 180,000.8

Bela Kun, leader of the failed Hungarian Revolution and advocate of the “theory of the offensive”.

The failure of the March Action, while not clear to all Communists, was a sign that the Comintern had to develop a united strategy to win mass working-class support. The solution that the Comintern arrived at was the United Front, which was first officially suggested by the party leadership in Paul Levi and Karl Radek’s Open Letter. The united front strategy called on the unity of the entire workers’ movement (including all the unions and the Social-Democrats) in campaigns for demands of higher pay, unemployment relief, price controls, emergency expropriations, the disarming of right-wing militias and the arming of the workers, and freedom for political prisoners. The letter also called for the involved organizations to not “conceal the disagreements that divide us” and simply “limit themselves to lipservice for proposed basis for action”.9  This meant unity in campaigns for these reforms, not meaning that parties surrender the right to critique each other and lose their political independence. This letter was published in the KPD party press approximately two months before the failed March Action, and with its disaster leading to the implosion of the party, the united front now seemed to clearly represent a superior strategic approach. By the 4th Congress of the Comintern, the need for winning a working-class majority through the united front tactic was recognized officially by the Comintern’s Executive Committee (whose authority was binding on all member parties).10

The United Front policy was a call for unity of the workers’ organizations for specific struggles, with each organization maintaining its independence and the right to critique each other. The united front policy was applied by various Communist parties differently, as it was received with great skepticism by those who were unwillingly forced to adopt it. Some communists, like the PCI’s chief theorist Amadeo Bordiga, argued the united front should only be applied ‘from below’, meaning without any official agreements made with the leaders of reformist parties. This was contrasted with a united front ‘from above’, which involved making agreements and alliances on the political level rather than merely uniting across party lines in economic struggles. This desire to draw a distinction in order to avoid making deals with the leadership of reformists reflected a real expression of hostility towards uniting with the Social-Democratic parties from the party rank-and-file. Yet this tendency in the rank-and-file was not universal, as workers had already begun to unite across party affiliation on their own before the united front policy was imposed formally. Ultimately, the distinction between united fronts from below or above was less than useful; even if leadership rejected cooperation, this would simply be more evidence that Communists had the interests of the workers at heart in the concrete class struggle. Simply making deals with reformist leaders for joint action was not the same as a political coalition with a capitalist party to make easy electoral gains while sacrificing one’s politics.

It also important to distinguish the United Front from the Popular Front policy, which is not a common alliance of workers organizations, but rather an alliance with the bourgeois state to restore the constitutional order. The Popular Front policy is an explicit call for national unity with the bourgeoisie for a cause that supposedly carries more importance than the class struggle. This policy means a sacrifice of class-independence, while the United Front policy aims to allow for common action while preserving class-independence. The United Front aimed to give communists an opportunity to push for class struggle against the acceptable bounds of reformists, whereas the Popular Front was a retreat into the bounds of reformism.

An example of the United Front policy being put to the test can be found in the great railway strike in Germany in February 1922. The strike was triggered by cuts and layoffs of workers who were on the state payroll, with no opposition from the SPD despite protest from the conservative railway workers’ union. When the strike launched, the SPD ministers in government banned the strike and threatened disciplinary action. In response, the KPD backed the strikers demands and called for the leaders of the Railway Workers Union, the Trade Union Confederation, the UPSD, and the SPD to all unite in defense of the workers’ economic needs and their right to strike. While the SPD leadership denied cooperation, locally, SPD workers and Communists were able to cooperate. While the main backer of the strike was the KPD, the strike eventually reached a level of 800,000 workers and became the largest transportation strike in German history. Through their attempts to unite all workers and support the strikers, the KPD was able to come out as a more powerful party with mass support. Zinoviev even praised the actions of the KPD in the German railway strike as a “textbook example of the proper application of the United Front tactic”.11

Despite this success, the United Front policy was not flawless. One of its more questionable elements was the concept of the ‘workers government’ where the Communists would form a halfway-house to the dictatorship of the proletariat through a coalition government with the Social-Democrats. The formation of ‘workers government’ was meant to create a crisis that would eventually put power purely in the hands of the Communist Party. This was based on the assumption that the dictatorship of the proletariat could only function with single-party rule, something which grew to become Comintern orthodoxy. This concept was also another ‘shortcut’ to seizing power without winning mass support, and relied on Social-Democratic votes to boost the parties position of authority. In 1923, the attempt to put the workers government tactic into practice in Saxony ended in failure and led to an unsuccessful insurrection that would foreclose hope of revolution in Germany for the coming years. Ultimately, the hope of climbing the ladder to power with the help of a ‘workers government’ was a chimera; the party had no alternative but to win a relative working class majority and displace Social-Democratic hegemony over the labor movement. This hope for spontaneity to fill in the gaps left by a lack of actual leadership over the class movement was the source of the Comintern’s ‘ultra-left’ distortion, but could also express itself in inconsistent opportunism.

Regardless of the flawed ‘workers government’ policy, the united front was an overall effective tactic that, when utilized, saw the greatest levels of growth in the Comintern.12  One can see this as a sort of realization on the part of the Comintern that its initial hope to form parties of civil war against an imminent demise of capitalism was a flaw. Communists were not guaranteed the support of the masses due to historical necessity – they had to fight for political support from the working class. This realization stood in contradiction to the logic behind the “theory of offensive”, and would continue to clash with it throughout the history of the Comintern, with the dominance of either approach not always reducible to a certain periodization. For example, it was after the successful merger with the USPD’s left wing at the Halle Conference when the KPD went on the suicidal March Action. Inability to unite around a solid strategy meant an approach of consistency and patience wasn’t pursued.

The rest of the history of the Comintern is a sad story. In the ‘third period, from 1928-1933, the parties fully moved away from their tactics of the united front and took up ultra-sectarian positions. This manifested most infamously in Germany with the KPD’s unwillingness to form a united front with the SPD against Hitler, leading to one of history’s greatest disasters when Hitler came to power without a serious united struggle against him by the working class. This idiotic ‘ultra-leftism’ would then be matched by the equally bankrupt rightism of the Popular Front, where Comintern Parties decided to forgo the struggle for socialism in hopes that the colonial powers of the world would back them against fascism due to their “democratic” characteristics. The bourgeois powers only opposed fascism to the extent it threatened the stability of their own empires.

One could judge from this history that the Second and Third Internationals were just shitshows with little redeeming qualities, essentially evidence that the 20th Century was proof of the impossibility of communism. It would be foolish to expect the first attempts at a global Communist Party to succeed, and despite their ultimate failure, they were the organized expression of the revolutionary working class at its height, with all their flaws and heroism in full display. As communists, we have no choice but to learn from our history. Ignoring the 20th-century communist movement or simply semantically distancing ourselves from the realities don’t make them go away. While the Second International primarily made rightist political errors, the Third International primarily made ‘ultra-left’ political errors. From this observation, we can come to a sort of center, where the positives and negatives of both Internationals can be learned from. This overall position, of building a mass party around a program for revolution through patiently consolidating the organized forces of the proletariat, could be described as “Centrist Marxism” or “the Marxist Center”. While the term ‘centrism’ is often used by Trotskyists as a term of derision, we use it here in this sense of a strategy that would mean patiently building up the forces of the revolutionary proletariat into democratically organized institutions, rather than trying to build a small “vanguard” or “militant minority” that will either intervene in a spontaneous movement or spark a revolution through armed struggle. It also entails a strong commitment to both Internationalism and democracy, emphasizing Marxism as in continuity with democratic and republican principles that developed in the struggles against Aristocracy, Monarchism, and Clericalism. Flexibility in tactics must be matched with a strong commitment to principles. One could say that the center strategy is a sort of pragmatism for the means of revolution rather than reform.

Aleksandr Vesnin, Proposal for a Monument to the Third International

Beyond “Leninism”

What would it mean for a party to accept the positive and negative lessons of both the Second and Third Internationals? To begin with, it would mean disregarding either as models to copy that we can identify as carrying some invariant “red thread”. Both failed, the Second International becoming an ally of the capitalist order and the Third International leaping into the ultra-leftist madness of the Third Period, the opportunistic Popular Front and eventually its full dissolution by Stalin. Today, much of what calls itself the ‘revolutionary left’ wants to essentially revive Comintern style parties, though perhaps only on a national scale. This attempt at revival, typically referred to as Leninism or Bolshevism, was last attempted in the United States with the New Communist Movement, having little to do with the actual history of Bolshevism before the Comintern. These views and the leftovers of this wave of Leninist party forming have come to represent what is seen as mainstream Leninism in the United States. Their results give us the micro-sects we have today; World Workers Party, Party for Socialism and Liberation, Freedom Road Socialist Organization-Fight Back, as well as countless Trotskyist groups that are all of varying quality in politics. In this particular section, when I refer to Leninists I do not mean the “Leninism of Lenin” which I very much admire, but rather the “Leninist movement” of attempts to form vanguard parties in the mode of the Comintern. What differentiates this mode of Leninism from orthodox Marxism is its embrace of the single monolithic party-state as a model for the dictatorship of the proletariat, the belief in a “party of the new type” that transcends the mass party through selective elitism, centralization around a specific theoretical line, and a militaristic chain of command that is not actually ‘democratic’ or ‘centralist’ but rather bureaucratic and autocratic.

Leninists argue the key innovation of their “party of a new type” was democratic centralism. Democratic centralism, most simply defined, is the hardly disagreeable formula of democratic deliberation combined with unity in action. By this definition, democratic centralism was also practiced by the Second International. Any democratic decision making requires centralism because the will of the majority needs to be enforced against the minority. The SPD, for example, voted as a bloc in parliament and had centralism enforced in the party, it was not internally a federalist organization (like other parties in the Second International) despite the wishes of its right.13 What made the “Leninist party of a new type” different was not democratic centralism. Rather than simple centralism, Comintern parties had a form of ‘monolithism’ to use the phrase of Fernando Claudin.14  In other words, Comintern parties emphasized centralism over democracy or often just disregarded democratic norms entirely. While this wasn’t absent in the Second International, the Third was born as a sort of militarized civil war organization rather than a political party in the sense of a mass workers association as envisioned by Marx. While this may have been justified at a time when an actual global civil war against capitalism was on the table, this is not the case right now – we are not living in the same era of ‘Wars and Revolutions’ as the leaders of the Comintern were. When modern Leninists claim the secret of their parties’ road to success is ‘democratic centralism’, it tends to mean an overly bureaucratized group that puts heavy workloads on individual members to make them more ‘disciplined’, and a lack of actual democracy in favor of a more militarized party structure. Factions are forbidden, ideological centralism (rather than programmatic centralism) is imposed from above, and groups aim to build an ‘elite’ cadre that tails existing mass struggles, hoping to bank in on them to recruit members. The Comintern model is simply a recipe for failure in today’s conditions, just another guide to building yet another sect that will compete for the latest batch of recruits. How this actually works in practice is exemplified by the state of actually existing contemporary Leninism in the USA.

Take PSL, FRSO-FB and the ISO as case studies. Alongside schemes to take over union bureaucracy, these organizations essentially form front groups that hide affiliation to any kind of communist goals and aim to mobilize students around the latest liberal social justice issues and work in alliance with NGOs to throw rallies of mostly symbolic value. Through these activities, the cadre (or inner group) of the Leninist organization hopes to recruit parts of the liberal activist community in order to grow their base of support and garner more influence in these social movements. The organizations themselves proclaim democratic centralism, but in reality, there is no public debate about party positions allowed between congresses. At the congresses debate, takes place as little as possible and is usually led by an unelected central committee that composed of full-time staffer careerists. By using their “militant minority” tactics to act as the “spark that lights the prairie fire” in popular struggles, the modern Leninists (with some exceptions of course) tend to tail these struggles instead of fight for a class-conscious approach to issues of civil and democratic rights. One tactic often used is to hand out as many of their signs as possible to appear larger in number, when in reality this is often protesting street theater backed by NGOs connected to the Democrats who are simply using leftists as useful idiots for “direct actions” against the Republicans. Usually, the rationale for this activism is to raise consciousness among liberals. Theoretically, by ‘riding the wave’ of spontaneous activism, the militant minority group will build up enough influence to launch an insurrection. This is a delusional hope. It leads to chronic involvement in activism that takes up time and energy but doesn’t build working class institutions that can actually offer concrete gains for working people through collective action. One could describe this general strategy of tailing social movements as ‘movementism’.

Cartoon referencing the New Communist Movement, the last major wave of Leninism in the US.

The critique of movementism has developed in Leninist circles, specifically by Maoists around the theorist J. Moufawad-Paul. He has written that movementism is the “ideological articulation of the default form of opportunism in the capitalist centre” and a product of internalized anti-communism.15 Yet the Maoist critique of the logic of economism and defeat that fuels movementism has no real alternative to offer beyond a fantasy of “protracted people’s war” where a mass movement grows in the process of waging a violent guerrilla struggle against the state. The actually existing Maoist alternative to the politics of movementism in the US is no better, mostly consisting of politically substanceless militant posturing and sectarianism. While the Maoists may be correct in their critiques of other Leninists, their alternative seems to entail acting like insurrectionary anarchists with red flags. Nor do they move away from the model of the “militant minority”- they instead double down on it with calls to “put politics in command” and boast about their supposed “military policy”.

While modern Leninist groups obviously have no organic or meaningful connection to the Comintern, it is still the reference point to which these organizations orient. Amongst Leninist organizations, the idea of the party as a minority “vanguard” that doesn’t rely on majority support is based on a misunderstanding of the Russian Revolution. Like bourgeois scholars, this misunderstanding views the October Revolution as a coup but embrace it, believing it to be evidence that a minority party can slip its way into power by being in the right place at the right time. This perspective leaked into the Comintern, despite Lenin’s protestations in Left-Wing Communism. Instead of critical engagement with the politics elaborated in the text  Leninists choose to use it as a guidebook for justifying rank opportunism. The idea of the militant minority channeling the energy of spontaneous mass action is essentially what unites both the early Comintern and today’s ‘movementism’ as well as the Maoist critics of movementism.

It is necessary to go beyond actually existing Leninism. This doesn’t mean disputing Lenin or distancing ourselves from his legacy; he was one of the greatest Marxists and revolutionaries of all time and his works and life are marked with political brilliance. Yet today, “Leninism” almost completely distorts or disregards the early Bolshevik party and its relation to the Second International and simply focuses on repeating the Comintern experience. What we need is to move beyond an attempted systemization of the Comintern and Lenin in particular, but rather continue the systemization of Marxism as a whole based on the entire history of class struggle. This is what Lenin did. Lenin didn’t see himself as a “Leninist”, creating a new stage of Marxism, but as an orthodox Marxist applying a system of thought to his own conditions. This doesn’t mean we should reject the most vital contributions of Lenin, for example, his views on revolutionary defeatism and imperialism. What it does mean is that much of what made Lenin great was already in Marx, Engels and even Kautsky. It means, much in the same way that Marx critically learned from the failures of the Communist League in developing his theory of the party, that we must critically learn from the failures of all past Internationals, especially the Second and Third (which historically had the most impact on mass politics).

Negative lessons, as in what not to do, are the easiest to pick from our history: we know the end result and can pick out where actors had incorrect judgment. But positive lessons, as in what we should do, are harder. The common orthodoxy of “Leninism” is that there are only negative lessons to learn from the experience of the Second International, and to suggest otherwise is to commit to reformism. Yet a mass workers party with class independence run on democratic lines is still relevant, despite its basic roots in the First and Second International. The strategy of these types of parties, to patiently build up forces through union and electoral struggles, organizing proletarian communities and building a sort of alternative center of power run by the working class – eventually to seize power and become the governing class – seems to make more sense than whatever kind of hope in spontaneous insurrectionism or a general strike that the left has to offer as an alternative. We can accept this strategy while also rejecting the social-chauvinism of the German SPD. We can also accept the advances of the Third International, especially in its aim to build a truly international party resolutely opposed to imperialism and the bourgeois state, willing to use non-legal means if necessary, and closed to nationalist reformists like a Bernstein or Bernie Sanders. We also can reject the bureaucratic, semi-militarized chain of command model taken up by modern Comintern-inspired parties in favor of a robust intra-party democracy, tolerating factions without enforcing rigid ideological centralism. As the First International did, we should aim for programmatic rather than ideological unity. As the experience of the Second International showed, it was necessary to draw the line somewhere and not tolerate reactionary views having a platform in the party. The future Communist International must develop programmatic unity through collective activity as a whole, and will probably never wholly have ideological unity. However, there must be basic minimum political standards enforced. Ideally, it is in a strong, clear program that one can develop these standards of principled unity. Yet one cannot make a formal rule that will prevent falling to the monolithism of the Comintern or opportunism of the Second International – it is also a question of ideological, of political debate.

The forces of the proletariat are weak and divided, it will take a long-haul approach to develop a party that can be a vehicle of independent political action. This doesn’t rely on any kind of ‘get rich quick’ scheme, where the party uses a mass line or transitional demands to attract the working class without actually convincing and winning them over to revolutionary politics. It means actually having to develop the actual organizational strength to put the working class into command of society. One has to essentially build a ‘state within a state’ which stands in opposition to the bourgeois order and command the loyalty of proletarians in their majority against the capitalist state. We cannot hope that crisis simply accelerates the working class into such misery that it has no choice but to go on mass strikes to form workers councils and then try to insert our militant minority into the movement to guide it on its proper track. Building a real alternative to capitalist rule requires, as Lenin pointed out, a principled core that is able to stay politically consistent while utilizing every tactic possible. No space left open in civil society, where we can agitate and educate, should be left unutilized. A class-independent workers party which does not neglect this fight is a necessity.

What Kind of Party

What does it mean for a party to be a “class independent workers party”? Should the “class party” be a vanguard party or mass party? To answer these questions, we must first look at the more abstract principle of “class interests” to understand what is meant by class independence. A workers party means, in a more plainly-spoken language, a proletarian party. For Marx, the proletariat is generally all those in society “without reserves”, meaning they own no property from which to subsist, and are forced to rely on the general fund of wages paid out by the capitalist, property-owning, class. The proletariat is not simply factory workers, but the entire section of society that relies on the wage fund to survive, in many cases they are not even formally employed. The proletariat has no existing property relations of its own to maintain. It performs cooperative labor on a global scale but mediated through the anarchy of the market. The broad proletariat can only liberate itself by cooperating across all its social divisions and collectively ending their separation from the means of production. Yet the bourgeois, propertied class, has interests in the maintenance of property relations that allow them to exist as a class. By nature, these two classes ultimately struggle not only over the needs of workers or the drives of capitalists on a day to day basis, but contest modes of production themselves. Class interests, however, are not derived from the subjective consciousness of individual members of a class, but from an abstract analysis of the capitalist mode of production. Because of the impossibility of liberation through reversion to small commodity production, communism is the only option for the liberation of the proletariat (and besides, self-employment for the entire proletariat via a return to petty commodity production is not a desirable or possible historical outcome). It can be said that the proletariat as a class because it is the class compelled to fight for communism, carries with it the interests of humanity, as communism entails the liberation of humanity as a whole. Yet only those without any real stakes in the capitalist system will never collectively, as a class, fight to abolish it.

When discussing class interests, we mean not only short-term needs like better economic conditions and expanding democratic rights, but the long-term need to overthrow waged labor and establish communism. By class independence we mean that the class interests of the proletariat are independent and exclusive to the proletariat and are antagonistic with the objective interests of all other propertied classes as they exist in capitalism – hence standing opposed to all class rule itself. There is a contradiction that cannot be resolved through any scheme of ‘harmony’ between the propertied classes (the bourgeoisie, their bureaucratic elite, and landlords) and the dispossessed class (the proletariat, which grows as small proprietors are knocked out of business and specialized labor becomes de-skilled).  Class independence means organizing around a program of politics that expresses the exclusive interests of the proletariat that differ from other classes – the need to overthrow the capitalist system, which only the propertyless proletariat has no stake in. It also means not forming electoral blocs with bourgeois parties, or aiming to win support from the bourgeoisie by changing the class program to de-emphasize communism or the seizure of state power by the waged class. A class-independent party and communist party essentially mean the same thing, if we accept the greater Marxist theory about the politics of class interests. An independent class program is, therefore, one which expresses not the subjective needs of the workers at a given moment, but on the overall role of the proletariat in history according to a Marxist analysis. Of course, a program must be more than simply words, but also express the principles which animate the day to day activity of the party.

Does a party that makes concessions in its program to small property owners lose its class independence? This question raises why it’s important to differentiate between a minimum and maximum program. The minimum program should be a set of measures that if enacted, will bring the proletariat to power. This should include the creation of a commune state, the arming of the proletariat, dissolution of the police and military, nationalization of monopolies, leading to a decisive break with bourgeois state power. It is not the abolition of the bourgeoisie (and therefore all class distinctions), but of their political rule initially in a certain region (the larger the better). The proletariat and bourgeoisie are still reproduced as categories, but capitalism exists in a state of decay, the bourgeoisie primarily existing in small production and the intellectual property of bureaucrats. Because of their role in social reproduction (often as specialists or producers of vital goods), concessions will have to be made to these classes for the proletariat to hold onto power without social reproduction breaking down. Therefore, a minimum program that makes certain economic concessions to small producers such as small business owners is not necessarily incompatible with the interests of the proletariat. Such demands, however, are incompatible with the maximum program, which express the final goal of communism. The full development of a socialized sphere of social reproduction will eventually leave small property relations in the dustbin of history, but this requires the long-term transformation of both the forces and relations of production. The small property owners will not immediately be forcibly collectivized by the proletariat in the same way as the largest monopoly capitalists will be. Because small proprietors control small patchworks of the economy, such as parts of agriculture and technology, they will not be easy to collectivize immediately -cooperation with these sectors is necessary to keep society running. They should be urged to form cooperatives and integrate into the socialized sector, but eventually, they will fall out business in competition with the growing socialist sector. The proletariat can’t cede too much economic power to small proprietors without risking its own power and having to limit democratic governance. A difficult balance is needed.

The minimum program should not be a set of measures that “complete the bourgeois-democratic revolution” either, as some suggest. There is no “completion” of the bourgeois revolution where all oppressive leftovers of the pre-capitalist order are destroyed, short of the proletarian revolution that transcends the bourgeois revolution altogether, eliminating all forms of class exploitation and oppression, including those that preceded capitalism. It should be a set of measures that change the form of the state such that the proletariat, or the working-class, is now the governing class. Such a society was called a “dictatorship of the proletariat” by Marx, but perhaps a contemporary, more politically viable term could be the “workers’ republic”. In the minimum program, some aspects may be reforms achievable under capitalism, but if enacted in full it should transform the bourgeois state to a workers republic; a metamorphosis from the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie to a dictatorship of the proletariat.

A proper minimum program also avoids the pitfalls of economism, not simply focusing on economic demands of the immediate class struggle, but also demands that address the struggle for democratic rights of women and oppressed nationalities as well as the general tyrannical and anti-democratic nature of the state. This means taking up demands for sexual freedom, for freedom from censorship, for the right own firearms, and democracy in all sphere of life. To quote Lenin in 1890, “In waging only the economic struggle, the working class loses its political independence; it becomes the tail of other parties and betrays the great principle: ‘the emancipation of the working classes must be conquered by the working class themselves.’”16 The party must be a school of politics where the workers are trained not to follow orders, but to take politics into their own hands and constitute their class as one that fights for the liberation of all humanity. ‘Class independence’ should not be interpreted in a narrow economistic sense where the working class strictly fights for things that solely benefit workers. Rather, the working class should pose itself as the most militant and uncompromising force in these democratic struggles, leading them to give as much of a communist perspective as possible.

The workers’ party itself should be a prefiguration of the workers’ republic, in the sense of its internal governance. This means it should practice a form of democracy distinct from and beyond the democracy of liberalism. This means experimentation, investigating new forms of collective decision making and seeing what works. The party should be economically organized (as all parties are firms) on a cooperative basis with no salaries that allow for careerism. The Central Committee should be directly elected by the membership and recallable. Open debate and tolerance of factions, rather than the imposition of an ideological monolithism are key if the party wishes to demonstrate to the class that communism, not capitalism, is the truly free society.

The party is a workers party because it is organized in the working class districts, campaigns electorally primarily in these districts, and builds working class organizations of all kinds, such as tenants unions and mutual aid groups, in these communities. The party must present itself as a complete alternative to the existing bourgeois parties but just as serious. The majority of the proletariat does not even vote, as the blog Cold and Dark Stars pointed out, meaning that a working-class party would have to tap into the disappointments of the mass of the population with existing politics while offering a compelling alternative politics that speaks to their deeper sense of human solidarity to build a culture of class struggle. A form of “insurgent electoralism” is needed, one that aims not simply to gradually capture the pre-existing capitalist state machinery for the proletariat, but to use the election campaign as a ruthless propaganda tool against the bourgeois parties, to help delegitimize the bourgeois state, and legitimize communist politics. We won’t win simply by acting like professional politicians and pandering to the center, but by being the more dangerous vote in an election.

However, a workers party is more than just an electoral party, and if it is going to even succeed as an electoral party it needs a base to mobilize in the first place. It requires well-trained cadre and education programs for all members, and it needs to distribute these skills and knowledge amongst the membership as much as possible. By learning to run alternative unions, mutual aid societies, and election campaigns, we learn the skills needed to run society on new political grounds. The party becomes a smaller state within and without the state that grows through a course of the protracted struggle to become the hegemonic force in society and stands as an alternative center of authority to the existing bourgeois state when crisis emerges.

Becoming a “state within the state” would also mean forming what is often called an “alternative culture” by historians of the Second International-era SPD.17 This would include things ranging from party-run sports teams to free clinics to breakfast programs or hiking clubs. The point of such ‘alternative cultures’ is not just to draw in wider layers of the working class, but also to develop new forms of socialization contrary to capitalism and meet needs of workers that the capitalist state ignores. One thing that modern-day anarchists get correct is the need to create such an alternative culture within capitalism. However, largely due to self-imposed ideological limitations, anarchist subcultures do not have the working class orientation, level of centralization, institutionalization, and access to resources (as well as cultural barriers) to actually make an alternative culture that is appealing, and instead, create a mostly ‘DIY’ alternative to charities. A workers party would bring a level of professionalization and discipline to such activities, as well as incorporating them into a larger political project with democratic accountability to a mass movement, moving beyond the limits of current left ‘counterculture’.

We also should never forget the importance of the party school, which is one of the key aspects of the party. The party school should aim to not only educate its members in Marxism, but also in skills related to organization, finance, science, technology, and logistics. The party’s educational institutions work to not only raise the class’s own class-awareness in history but also their skills in fighting against capitalism and constructing an alternative order. Most importantly, party schools should not simply be transmission belts for a certain leader’s ideology, but also promote free thinking and debate. Marxism should be treated as an open system, a progressive research program in the Lakatosian sense that develops through critical inquiry. The party must, therefore, have an intellectual culture of open debate and collective deliberation, reflected in its own institutions. Though the educational institutions of the party, workers should develop a system superior at creating well-rounded individuals than bourgeois education, creating a model that demonstrates the potentials of the communist alternative.

As for the question of unions, a party should aim to win leadership of the overall union movement as much as possible. However, winning leadership is a means to an end and should strive to push the union movement towards industrial unions that break beyond the divisions of craft and skill. Forming one united union for all workers, both skilled and unskilled, should be the overall aim of the party. This is, of course, a lofty ideal to achieve, something hardly imaginable to happen until after the consolidation of a workers state. However, communists in the union movement should not simply call for more militant direct action from rank-and-file caucuses, but strive to win union elections and build relations with other unions. Rather than seeking to form a stratum within unions that is merely willing to push strike actions into more militant directions, the aim should be for the party to campaign for democratic reforms in the union and make them schools of socialism, eventually winning them to supporting socialism as a long-term goal. Simply forming caucuses for militant struggle is not enough; workers can engage in militant strikes but still hold reactionary views. Communists must take an active role in education by participating in union politics and holding strong positions against the union bureaucracy’s association with the Democratic Party, apoliticism, and general opportunism.

Communists should fight for industrial unions.

Some have argued that industrial unionism is impossible in the United States because of labor law. This relies on two assumptions – that labor law cannot be challenged by electoral action or simple mass transgression of the law. It is also possible that the existing unions in the United States, in large part, are too conservative to reform. However, the majority of US proletarians aren’t unionized, giving a large pool of potential recruits for a new union movement that escapes the straightjacket of the official unions. In a period where old institutions meet their limitations and new ones struggle to find footing in the terrain of modern capitalism, it is hard to say what exactly the general defensive organizations of the working class will look like. The need for such organizations is eternal in capitalism, and the constant dislocations caused in the working class by the brutality of market competition at some point make defensive class organization of some kind a necessity.

What the party does need to avoid in the unions is bureaucratic careerism. Union representatives of the workers’ party need to be subject to the party rather than their own career interests, which creates a phenomenon that moves the party’s politics to the right. This means the focus of work in the unions needs to be a form of base building as well as education amongst the rank-and-file rather than using opportunistic machinations to climb the ranks of the union.

League of Struggle for the Emancipation of the Working Class, a circle of intellectuals that preceded the Bolsheviks

From sects to parties to state power

How we can build such a party is no easy question. To begin to answer this seriously would require an analysis of the dynamics of the various sects of the left, and thinking of a way to transcend the dynamics of the sect system while moving toward greater programmatic unity. Many argue the best option right now is to work in the DSA; others in the Marxist Center network, and still others in the IWW. What is clear is that serious communists need to start working towards some kind of programmatic unity that could be the basis of a new party. Potentially, we could also derive lessons from the ‘united front’ tactic of the Comintern on how to unite and consolidate our forces despite the division of the left. Unity in common action can help communists overcome pointless divisions and find their broader programmatic unity.

The road to building such a party will not be simple and will require ideological and political struggles. It is important that these debates be had in good faith and publicly in the press of revolutionary organizations without either anti-intellectualism or obscurantism. Compromises on tactical questions will have to be made. Old historical struggles will have to be put to rest. Dogmatism, faith in holding the one true red thread of the communist tradition, or believing in the one correct interpretation of the “immortal science” (and thus the unlimited authority it grants), should be fought against with open debate and inquiry. Factions will have to be tolerated; people will have to tolerate losing votes without splitting in response. Clear lines of ideological demarcation will be drawn, and political tendencies will grow that reflect the diversity of the proletariat in all its forms. The general strategy of base-building can be seen as a sort of ‘bread-and-butter’ of party organizing. The general task of building institutions with a proletarian base outside the state and capable of exercising class power is key, and institutions that can exist both within and outside a political party must be created. Building power cannot be done within the bourgeois state. Rather, a workers party must build power by first building its own independent base, not merely “conquering” the base of another party. Electoral successes are not so much a source of power as much as they merely measure and consolidate existing power.

A workers party worthy of the communist name must be closely connected to the class struggle. It is not going to arise spontaneously out of the unions and other defensive organizations but will begin through the consolidation of communists who then take an active role in organizing such institutions. A communist party must not simply “intervene” in strikes after they pop off, but be an organizational expression of class power that helps increase the number of strikes and class conflict. It must aim to win leadership of the working class’ own defensive institutions democratically, not through bureaucratic machinations. The communists must demonstrate their party to be different, not only in name from the bourgeois parties but in practice, fighting as the vanguard in the class struggle, not only for economic aims but in the fight for democracy too. A historical example of what this would look like is the way CPUSA was in the vanguard of the struggle for black democratic rights. By demonstrating they are the vanguard in such fights against all forms of capitalist tyranny, the communists can win the support of the proletariat at large by giving expression to and clarifying their class interests. The communists bring to the rest of the proletariat the “good news” that collectively, they can transform the world to eliminate all exploitation and oppression. But to convince them a vision is needed, the purpose of a program is in part to help the public envision the kinds of changes the party is fighting for.

A communist party building mass support socializes humanity in a new way and prepares the class and human solidarity that will be the basis of communism. By representing a better potential world in its organizational form, it gives life to the hopes of a better world that is otherwise suppressed by capitalist society. The rise of such a party is only compatible with the capitalist order to a certain degree; eventually, capitalism will fall into crisis and the party will have enough power to launch a social revolution if it continues with a secular rate of growth (meaning long-term continuous growth over a period of time). This was assumed by SPD theoretician Karl Kautsky who saw the growth of the party’s success as inevitable due to the growth of the proletariat. But history proved to be more cunning than this at-first believable situation, as the development of the socialist movement was bifurcated into different competing currents while the labor movement itself never followed a simple secular trend of steady growth. The hopes of Kautsky and many of his early followers proved to be too ideal for the complexity of actual politics. As the party develops and consolidates its positions, it will at times lose or gain members and support while taking necessary principled stands on issues. What matters is that the party lives up to its class independence in deed and not just word and that it does not vacillate to accommodate the interests of the propertied classes in order to win support.

How could a such a party actually win state power? Could it do so peacefully through elections? Even if the party won a majority in an election and came to power on its own, if it began to actually implement a revolutionary program to throw out the old constitutional order, dissolve the military, and arm the people, in all likelihood the bourgeoisie would react to the transgression of their class power and property with a coup or armed revolt. In this case, the only option is to either defend the revolution through the armed working class or concede to the bourgeois military. It is because of this political reality that one cannot promise a “democratic road to socialism” without the eruption of violent civil conflict. The unlikelihood of radical social change happening peaceful and without civil strife, at least in the United States, is well articulated by the American revolutionary socialist Albert Parsons:

“I do not believe that capital will quietly or peaceably permit the economic emancipation of their wage-slaves. It is against all the teachings of history and human nature for men to voluntarily yield up usurped or arbitrary power. The capitalists of the world will for this reason force the workers into armed revolution. Socialists point out this fact and warn the workingmen to prepare for the inevitable.”18

In the end, we will have no choice but to “smash” the repressive apparatus of the bourgeois state, meaning in practice the dissolution of the police and military, arming the proletariat, and putting power in the hands of the working class by building a new form of representation fit for workers rule. Whether or not the party has a mandate for forming a workers republic shouldn’t be decided based solely on having a proper majority in the legislature itself. What matters is building up enough mass support and legitimacy that, when a crisis of political legitimacy most strongly expresses itself, the Communist Party represents the alternative pole of power with legitimacy from the majority of politically mobilized proletarians.

No matter how much support the Communist Party has, the transition to socialism can only happen if there is some rupture between the old ruling class and the newly-ruling proletariat which consolidates power against the collapsing regime- in other words, a revolution. In this case, revolution is simply defined as a change in which class governs the state. Such a change will require a radical rupture with previous forms of state and governance, passing political power into the hands of the masses. Since such a rupture would not likely be tolerated by the decadent classes, it is likely going to incite some form of armed struggle. It is exactly the change of power from one class to another that defines a social revolution. The hope for a rupture-less “democratic road to socialism” is merely a road to modernizing the welfare state. Unless there is a change in which class governs – in who shall rule whom – the bourgeoisie will never tolerate a transition to socialism by savvy politicians passing “evolutionary” or “non-reformist reforms” under their nose. A revolution may only be possible once the masses have been convinced that no other means are possible to solve the current crisis, and the only way towards a desirable change in society is through social revolution. The difficulty of this does nothing to negate the historical reality of bourgeois counter-revolution. The hope that a revolutionary rupture can be avoided in favor of ‘evolutionary socialism’, favorable among theorists influential in today’s DSA, is equally delusional as some immediate apocalyptic transition to communism.19

Let us look at a classic historical example. The abolition of slavery in the United States was attempted through gradual legislation when Lincoln’s Republican Party won elections on the platform of no longer expanding slave states. This prompted the slave states to form a confederacy and secede, leading to a war that began to reunite the nation but transformed into a revolutionary war to end slavery via military occupation of the south. Karl Marx was fascinated by the US Civil War for its political and strategic implications. It is likely this event influenced his views on how revolution would happen. Essentially, a revolutionary party would exhaust all means possible until either insurrection is the only way forward, or the bourgeoisie still simply launch a ‘slaveholders revolt’ and force a civil war that itself will call the existence of the bourgeois regime into question. One can look at the October Revolution similarly; the Bolsheviks and their coalition partners won a political victory in the Soviets and used it as a democratic mandate to overthrow the provisional government and form a Soviet Republic. The course of events, where the bourgeoisie went into revolt backed by imperialism via the White Army, forced the Bolsheviks to politically consolidate their regime through civil war. They did this through mobilizing the peasantry via the Red Army until 1922, finally leaving the harsh era of war communism toward the more stable New Economic Policy.

Post promoting the New Economic Policy, 1921.

It is a fool’s errand to tell the masses that a peaceful road to a workers republic, essentially a change in class governance, is something that can be promised. Even if it was possible and the government was able to enforce a minimum program without prompting civil war, it would still require mass civic mobilizations to combat sabotage by the bourgeoisie that would accompany a shake-up of property relations. Those who hope for a “democratic road to socialism” don’t desire a new revolutionary state that is backed by the masses. They treat the liberal state as a neutral site of class conflict that the proletariat can transform to its own ends over time, slowly enough to avoid a period of social conflict where a rupture in the class nature of the state will occur. This idea assumes we can sneak a revolution pass the bourgeoisie and ignores problems like capital flight that crash attempts at social-democratic reforms. This can’t simply be combated by a hope in pressure from “mass action in the streets”. And it ignores that the capitalist class will happily resort to breaking with democratic norms in face of a government that seriously threatens the rule of property if need be, even if socialists have a democratic mandate. In Chile, an attempt was made at an electoral road to socialism through the Popular Unity government that aimed to avoid a rupture with the bourgeois state and the possibility of Civil War. Instead of arming the working class and dissolving the power of the state, Allende’s government kept the military in place and hoped for their support. This led to workers being defenseless in the face of Pinochet’s counter-revolution against the Popular Unity government that installed a military dictatorship which had devastating consequences.

It would be outside the confines of this article to speculate in detail exactly how a future communist revolution will occur, what chain of historical events will lead to it, how a civil war against reaction will play out, and how such a society will transition to communism. There will no doubt be continuities with previous revolutions, but the communist revolution will also look like no revolution that ever has occurred. It should not aim to merely win a single nation to communism, but an entire continent so as to establish a “beachhead” for the greater world revolution (Latin America would be one example). While making room for the creativity of the masses, one must have plans and institutions that are dedicated to turning questions of revolutionary governance from abstract fantasies to concrete issues to be dealt with. This is ultimately the aim of the party. It must organize the proletariat more effectively than the bourgeoisie, acting as an institution that not only can form plans counter to the rule of the bourgeoisie, but has the means of enacting these plans. Yet the question remains: what is the role of the party after the social revolution?

The aim of the party, organized around a minimum program with the goal of establishing a workers republic, must use some type of political mandate to mobilize the proletariat to smash the bourgeois state and form its own. The party will play a key role in leading the initial revolution, provide necessary coordination across all factions of the proletariat and act as an alternative sovereignty that replaces the capitalist state. As the party establishes this new sovereignty its aim should be to dissolve into different factions within the representative bodies of the workers’ republic freely voted on and recallable by the entire public. The legislative and executive bodies must be merged, the government becoming a ‘working body’ of delegates. This process marks the beginning of the withering away of the state, but it does not mean that a unitary, centralized, and repressive (of the capitalist class interests) state ceases to exist. A representative system should be composed of municipal councils and a central communal council that are accountable to each other. The aim should not be decentralization towards regional autonomy, with various municipalities having their own forms of government or law, but rather coordination and centralization of all bodies around a common plan. The purpose of the party is to take a role in leading the formation of such a government and providing the leadership to give it coherence. It should not aim to establish a Marxist-Leninist-style one-party state, instead of using forms of radical democracy that it has developed in the process of building a working-class movement. This is the only possible way forward to form a workers republic truly built on the foundation of proletarian mass power and put the world on the road to communism.

 

From the Workers Republic to Communism

How the workers’ republic will transition into communism is a whole other question, one which requires both a look into earlier attempts at socialism and a dangerous willingness to speculate. We can only say this: in an early workers republic, the immediate goal will not be the nationalization of all property, even its socialization or collectivization. The primary aim of the workers’ republic will be to collectivize political power, putting it into the hands of the working class. Central to this is the transfer of actual armed power into to the hands of workers’ militias through the destruction of the old military and police. A key element of any state, despite which class is at its helm is force, and this force is controlled by those who control the arms that back it up. Lenin excellently summarizes the changes necessary in order to make this happen:

‘The people need a republic in order to educate the masses in the methods of democracy. We need not only representation along democratic lines, but the building of the entire state administration from the bottom up by the masses themselves, their effective participation in all of life’s steps, their active role in the administration. Replacement of the old organs of oppression, the police, the bureaucracy, the standing army, by a universal arming of the people, by a really universal militia, is the only way to guarantee the country a maximum of security against the restoration of the monarchy and to enable it to go forward firmly, systematically and resolutely towards socialism, not by “introducing” it from above, but by raising the vast mass of proletarians and semi-proletarians to the art of state administration, to the use of the whole state power.”20

Another goal of the new proletarian regime would be to end the existence of politics as a career. This demand is often echoed by the populist call to “get money out of politics”. However, removing money from politics doesn’t address the issue of bureaucrats creating fiefdoms of loyalty that shield their self-interests from public accountability. This phenomenon is not due to some flaw in human nature, where “power corrupts all”, but rather that bureaucrats use their specialist knowledge to hold a monopoly on decision-making and information in order to elevate themselves above others in status, thus developing interests similar to those of small proprietors. As long as bureaucrats exist due to the social division of labor, they will have these tendencies. What matters is that the workers’ republic uses democratic norms to make bureaucrats accountable (such as term limits, pay maximum, public supervision, recallability) as well as programs to simplify the political process and collectivize their skills for the masses to take hold of all aspects of political life.

The primary aim of the workers’ regime will be to essentially create and consolidate a new form of the state, rather than immediately destroy capitalism. Despotic inroads on private property will obviously be made, with the key commanding heights of the economy seized and the use of nationalization to fight economic sabotage. Workers will have to seize industries as the bourgeoisie flee, and the new workers’ state will make no constitutional sanctities for property rights. Initially, it will primarily be political transformations that occur, as economic transformations will take a longer period of time due to to the necessity of transforming forces and relations of production and to integrate the world economy. Such an approach may be called gradualist, whereas the seizure of power by the proletariat, on the other hand, makes immediate political changes. An immediate nationalization of all means of production and move to state rationing in place of markets will not actually abolish commodity production, but lead to the flourishing of black markets. Voluntaristic attempts to ban markets by fiat have a poor history, often simply being replaced by bureaucratic rationing prone to corruption. Under the initial economy of a workers republic, one can imagine a “market sector” primarily comprised of small producers, a “cooperative” sector of small producers self-socializing their property, and a “socialized” or planned sector. In fact, many of the initial steps made will not so much be direct negations of capitalism but the rationalization of state-monopolies towards greater efficiency. The existence of a market sector, no matter how small, is nonetheless a sign of the incomplete socialization of the economy; the question is not whether or not to abolish commodity production and have a planned economy, but how.

It is important to understand that nationalization is itself simply a means to socialization. Under a workers republic, a nationalized factory becomes the property of the state; it is still governed by a capitalist labor process, in many cases with technical division of labor that inherently creates a need for specialists and hierarchy in industry. While an industry can be nationalized, this does mean it has been transformed on a socialist basis or socialized. Key industries, especially those previously in the form of monopolies, can be nationalized and more quickly transformed into socialized industries that operate on a planned, worker-controlled basis, but even then this process requires a transformation of the entire division of labor that may take years (depending on the industry). Steps towards socialization, like workers self-management, should, of course, be actively pursued and implemented when possible.  As Lenin points out, nationalization is merely confiscation of property, socialization is a far more difficult task to carry out:

“Yesterday, the main task of the moment was, as determinedly as possible, to nationalise, confiscate, beat down and crush the bourgeoisie, and put down sabotage. Today, only a blind man could fail to see that we have nationalised, confiscated, beaten down and put down more than we have had time to count. The difference between socialisation and simple confiscation is that confiscation can be carried out by “determination” alone, without the ability to calculate and distribute properly, whereas socialisation cannot be brought about without this ability.”21

Simply put, the desire nationalize everything immediately after the revolution to wipe out all remnants of capitalism can only be a desire, the socialization of industry is not something that can be achieved by calling upon the inner willpower of the workers. This is because it runs against the limits of material conditions: the stability of the food supply, the provision of basic housing, reliance on skilled forms of specialized labor, and as Lenin points out, the ability to “calculate and distribute”. Many initial nationalizations may seize property to turn it into a munitions factory for the needs of civil war. Others may be to replace archaic and environmentally destructive forms of industry. It would be a mistake to nationalize all industries immediately and aim to set everything on an immediate course to socialization, especially since small proprietors will resist by turning to black markets and refuse integration into planned socialist production en masse. Small proprietors will either have to integrate into the planned sector of the economy, or eventually go out of business when faced with competition from the socialist sector.

The form of the state under a workers republic is the dictatorship of the proletariat, just as the form of the state in any bourgeois republic is, in the end, a dictatorship of the bourgeoisie. The phrase ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’ implies the existence of the proletariat, which itself implies the existence of capital. Hence, it would be wrong to say that the dictatorship of the proletariat moves beyond capitalism as a mode of production. Rather, the proletariat becomes the most powerful class within capitalism: capitalism is in decay. In the dictatorship of the proletariat, the proletariat has won the class struggle to become the leading class in society, having defeated the bourgeois state. Yet the class struggle continues on new grounds, now primarily against the petty-bourgeois and bureaucracy, which within them each carry class interests to restore various forms of class society. The proletariat must fight against these elements, not through violent campaigns of expulsion, but by transforming the economic base of society, transcending capitalism and class society itself. A key part of this is breaking down the mental/manual division of labor that at the core of bureaucracy and collectivizing skills held by specialists through mass campaigns combining education and labor. Because the proletariat holds state power it can use the power of centralized administration to take on such a task. The class struggle takes on a different form, becoming more directly about the transformation of social relations between humans.

One suggestion is that the transition will occur through the progressive reduction of labor time through the application of planning rather than primarily through nationalization of the entire economy and the enforcement of a rationing system. For some production, if there is not sufficient abundance, abolishing the commodity form in favor rationing may simply create black markets. Obviously, nationalization and the reduction of work hours aren’t mutually exclusive. It is important to note that in transitioning to communism, the focus should be on the process of transforming labor and other productive forces, reducing work hours, and collectivizing skills, rather than the percentage of the economy that has been confiscated by the state. Nationalization should be seen as a means towards achieving these goals, but not an end in itself. As we put the development of productive forces under new social relations via socialized scientific planning, new forces of production will be developed, which in turn develops our freedom beyond the limits of necessity and the ability to transform our environment. The two categories of social relations of production and forces of production can develop in a mutually reinforcing relationship. Developing communism is not a matter of privileging productive forces over relations of production or vice versa, but transforming both in a mutually reinforcing relationship.

In line with Marx, it makes sense to distinguish between a lower and higher phase of communism. The higher phase of communism implies a society where not only production is fully socialized, but distribution, meaning that has free access to goods without a form of money or rationing by the state mediating between humanity and the means of production. This is distinguished from the lower phase of communism, where socialized production is still on the basis of use but goods are distributed to the laborer according to their contribution of labor time (with some form of social insurance provided for those not able to work). The end of production based on exchange-value in favor of the direct production of use-values is a basic property of both the lower and higher phases of communism. Communism entails an end to buying and selling. This is what is meant by saying it is necessary to abolish the value-form. This is well summarized in the ABC’s of Communism by Bukharin and Preobrazhensky:

“The communist method of production presupposes in addition that production is not for the market, but for use. Under communism, it is no longer the individual manufacturer or the individual peasant who produces; the work of production is effected by the gigantic cooperative as a whole. In consequence of this change, we no longer have commodities, but only products. These products are not exchanged one for another; they are neither bought nor sold. They are simply stored in the communal warehouses, and are subsequently delivered to those who need them. In such conditions, money will no longer be required. ‘How can that be?’ some of you will ask. ‘In that case one person will get too much and another too little. What sense is there in such a method of distribution?’ The answer is as follows. At first, doubtless, and perhaps for twenty or thirty years, it will be necessary to have various regulations. Maybe certain products will only be supplied to those persons who have a special entry in their work-book or on their work-card. Subsequently, when communist society has been consolidated and fully developed, no such regulations will be needed. There will be an ample quantity of all products, our present wounds will long since have been healed, and everyone will be able to get just as much as he needs. ‘But will not people find it to their interest to take more than they need?’ Certainly not. Today, for example, no one thinks it worth while when he wants one seat in a tram, to take three tickets and keep two places empty. It will be just the same in the case of all products. A person will take from the communal storehouse precisely as much as he needs, no more. No one will have any interest in taking more than he wants in order to sell the surplus to others, since all these others can satisfy their needs whenever they please. Money will then have no value. Our meaning is that at the outset, in the first days of communist society, products will probably be distributed in accordance with the amount of work done by the applicant; at a later stage, however, they will simply be supplied according to the needs of the comrades.”

To achieve such a task society will need to greatly develop its productive capacities and rationalize its social organization. Abolition of the value-form does not occur through fiat, repressing it through a “communist dictatorship against value”. The aim is instead to change the relations and forces of production to put society on a developmental path toward such an end. It is necessary to not merely negate the value-form and suppress the existence of commodity production in favor of bureaucratic rationing but to transcend the value-form by producing new social relations that allow for a non-alienating and non-exploitative form of social reproduction.

It should also be clear that communism is not a possibility on the national scale, because it requires the full cooperation of the world division of labor. A dictatorship of the proletariat’s ability to transcend itself and wither away as a state is reliant on the success of world revolution; as long as the world is capitalist, revolutionaries will have to make economic compromises with capitalism. What matters initially is that politically, power is in the hands of the proletariat. From there, the proletariat begins to take steps to socialism in line with what is materially possible, initially creating an embryonic socialized sector by seizing key industries and planning them, as well as putting them under workers control, and gradually increasing the amount of social product that is freely available to all despite the time spent laboring on said product. As production becomes planned scientifically according to human need, distribution can increasingly be done on a free, communal basis, what exists of the remaining market sector of small producers will fade away. One can think of Preobrazhensky’s notion of the law of planning and the law of value, where the law of planning grows with the socialization of industry to displace regulations of goods by the law of value.22The process should be done with care, at a pace that prevents major disruptions of social equilibrium. Merging labor with education to produce a surplus of skilled laborers is necessary so that specialists cannot use their knowledge as monopolies to benefit from. It will rather be collectively used to contribute to the general intellect of society.  

The new socialist society that develops out of the workers’ republic transitioning into communism will be a unique creation evolving from the shell provided by the old capitalist society, a creation of the proletariat taking production and science into its own hands. As more goods become socialized in distribution, the mental/manual division of labor eroded, and the necessary labor hours for all greatly reduced, people will have more free time, not only for leisure but to improve oneself and engage in the kind on non-alienated human flourishing that Marx claimed would become generalized. Such a society free of a repressive state will be a “free association of producers” where all of humanity forms a common, unified community.  Yet to get there, one must travail the class struggle, which is ultimately a political struggle: a struggle for power.

How to Play with Fire: Electoral Politics in the Heart of Empire

Ira Pollock examines the difficulties of left electoral strategy regarding the question of imperialism and affirms the importance of upholding strong anti-imperialist principles in electoral campaigns. Otherwise, the left itself can become an arm of the imperialist state.

The Left on Elections

The issue of electoral politics has long divided the Left. In contemporary discourse, the most visible dispute concerns the proper strategy for conducting campaigns. Within the Democratic Party, centrists and left-leaners disagree over the best way to win elections: should the party press leftward and focus on working-class struggles, or appeal to a moderate base, win over fence-sitting independents, and snag Republican defectors? For them, it’s largely a matter of strategy.

As you move to its left fringes and beyond the Democratic Party, the conflict morphs into a question of what core principles leftists should compromise to take state power. For instance, one debate within the ranks of DSA hinges on whether the organization should require endorsees to take a hard stance against the occupation of Palestine. In other words, it’s a question of strategy versus principles.

But all of this is only the tip of the iceberg. To even accept the terms of these debates, one must hold a matrix of positions that are by no means orthodoxy on the Left. Many socialists balk at the prospect of spending limited capacity on elections in the first place. For these leftists, to participate in electoral politics is to already lose the struggle for working-class power, to engage with it on the wrong terrain.

Sophia Burns, an incisive theorist and practitioner of revolutionary politics, offers a compelling articulation of why “building institutions outside of the state and against it offers a more effective road to social power than protests and elections.” The issue cuts deeper than just the most effective way to build power. It concerns whether it’s even possible for the working class to take power through elections. Burns’s is one of the more thoughtful accounts of why it isn’t, but some leftists are less sophisticated in their analysis.

Consider the circulation on social media of the following Rosa Luxemburg quote, taken radically out of context to justify electoral abstentionism:

“The entry of a socialist into a bourgeois government is not, as it is thought, a partial conquest of the bourgeois state by the socialists, but a partial conquest of the socialist party by the bourgeois state.”

Once you get this far left, the electoral debate is no longer one of strategy or principle, but one of power and agency. The crux of the question boils down to this: can proletarian agency be developed through electoral campaigns? That is, can the working class, broadly defined, build power through elections?

Questions of Agency

The first part of the electoral question asks whether an elected official can actually make their own decisions while embedded within the state apparatus. Once elected, do the parameters of the game so determine and channel the actions of participants that their discretion vanishes? Do elected officials actually wield state power or are they simply interchangeable cogs in the state machinery? An optimistic answer to this question is a premise of electoral work, an assumption baked into the whole project.

The second question is whether an elected official can exercise specifically proletarian agency through the state. Can they exercise that agency as a proxy for the working class and oppressed? Or has their social position changed such that any action they take serves some facet of capital or empire? For electoral campaigns to build proletarian agency, they must be able to partially capture the state by embedding a proletarian agent (the elected official) within it and build proletarian power enough outside the state to hold the elected official accountable to the interests of the working class. The only alternative is to bank on the ongoing moral fortitude of the candidate. So, can the agency of elected officials be proletarian in nature? Socialist electoral politics presupposes an affirmative answer to this question.

Though it is by no means a given, let’s grant that elected officials maintain their agency and that they can act as agents of the proletariat. What new dynamic do they acquire by wielding state power? One thing is certain: by capturing a piece of the state, the power of a leftist acquires a new, imperialist dimension.

Alternative Practice

Returning to Burns’s point concerning alternatives to electoral politics, her preferred strategy is called base building. This approach to building power is gaining steam on the Left. DSA Refoundation Caucus explains base building as follows:

Base building means constructing stable institutions that can bind our base together [by] building roots in the day-to-day fights of the broadest layer of the working class and oppressed…This means far more than just being able to move people to the polls. It means being able to move entire workplaces, neighborhoods, and campuses into fights on a day-to-day basis.

Refoundation does not explicitly oppose electoral politics but does favor an approach that builds working-class power independent of elected officials and outside state channels.

Sophia Burns identifies base building as one of four tendencies on the Left. These tendencies are 1) government socialists, 2) protest militants, 3) expressive hobbyists, and 4) base builders. These tendencies generally coexist and overlap within the same organization, but the schema is useful; it roughly coincides with different analyses of power and how to build proletarian agency. Electoral politics is the bread-and-butter of government socialists. It is, almost by definition, what they do.

Anti-imperialism exists within all of these tendencies. A promising example of such work within the base-building paradigm is the Tech Workers Coalition and its efforts to purge tech companies of Pentagon and ICE contracts. Another compelling example, one that incorporates aspects of both protest militancy and base building, was the 2008 dockworkers strikes, a show of structural power to demand an end to the U.S. occupation of Iraq.

Among these four tendencies, government socialism is unique in regards to the question of imperialism. Unlike the other three, successful government socialism, at least at the national level, endows its practitioners with an imperialist dimension to their agency. It gives them a seat at the table of global empire. Without great care, electoral work can turn leftists into actual, practicing imperialists.

Agency of Empire

Imperialism isn’t, strictly speaking, a capitalist endeavor. Capitalism often drives empire, but imperialist domination is not unique to capitalism; it is unique to statehood. The logic of capital accumulation and the logic of imperial expansion are often intertwined, though not identical. States of all types, capitalist and non-capitalist alike, have engaged in modern projects of imperialism. Accordingly, being anti-capitalist doesn’t necessarily entail being anti-imperialist. However, being a socialist does.

Socialism is intrinsically anti-imperialist because it is intrinsically internationalist.  Marx declared “Workers of the world unite,” not just workers in the core of empire. The proletariat can’t be free as long as it is under the yoke of the bourgeoisie or of an imperial oppressor. Accordingly, when playing the game of state entryism, being anti-capitalist isn’t enough. We must oppose empire if we are to sit at its helm.

By entering into the state apparatus, a candidate necessarily takes on a role in the operations of Empire. A federal politician must regularly decide how the world’s primary imperialist state acts on the global stage. From controlling military spending to authorizing new presidential war-making powers, it’s part of the job to make decisions with an intrinsic imperial dynamic. Nowhere else does a successful campaign endow leftists with the power to serve as architects of empire. Dockworkers can block shipments of munitions. Tech workers can pressure their employers to drop Pentagon contracts. In these spaces, leftists can be anti-imperialists, but they can’t accidentally take the reigns of empire and wage imperialist wars. When candidates in national campaigns succeed, they do gain this power. Where a weak commitment to internationalist principles might make poor socialists of other leftists, it makes active imperialists of elected officials.

Rules for Electoral Practice in the Core of Empire

To qualify for an endorsement from a leftist organization such as DSA, a candidate in a U.S. election should commit to internationalist principles. Particularly at the federal level, where a successful candidates agency can acquire an imperial dimension, this should be the top priority. Leftists can organize for other priorities at other levels of government and through alternative avenues without directly confronting the question of empire. At the federal level, the question is front and center.

At a bare minimum, when vetting potential national candidates, organizers should ask for an express commitment to anti-imperialism and to opposing U.S. wars. Any federal-level candidate that declines to make such a commitment should be disqualified from endorsement considerations.

A second level of vetting should concern specific issues. Does the candidate support eliminating military aid to Israel until it ends the occupation of Palestine? Does the candidate support legislation to end U.S. involvement in the Saudi war on Yemen? Does the candidate support a drastic reduction in military spending? Does the candidate support revoking the president’s authorization to wage the War on Terror indefinitely? For national-level candidates, the answers to these questions should be weighted at least as heavily as to those concerning domestic issues such as Medicare for All and housing.

Finally, and this is good practice for sub-national candidates and on domestic issues as well, consult the candidate’s record (if they have one). For federal candidates, closely scrutinize their record on foreign policy. Did they vote to authorize the invasion of Iraq? Have they voted to fund the occupation on an ongoing basis? Have they voted to increase the military budget? Did they vote in favor of a resolution to recognize Jerusalem as Israel’s capital? This record, if it exists, should be weighted more heavily than the candidates professed values. A federal candidate that has consistently supported military adventures, an expanded Pentagon budget, colonial repression overseas, or any number of other imperialist projects, should not receive leftist support regardless of their stated principles or credentials on domestic issues.

These guidelines should be a bare minimum for socialists practicing electoral politics in the heart of Empire. We cannot sacrifice the lives and dignity of those outside our borders for the sake of domestic priorities. Electoral socialists are playing with fire; they run the unique risk of becoming imperialists by virtue of their success. They must take this danger seriously. Medicare for All in the U.S. is not a victory if we must wage genocide in the Middle East to get it. Let’s not burn the world down to warm our home.

The Conquest of Ballots

Jonah Martell lays out a vision of socialist electoral strategy.

In January 2018, the Democratic Socialists of America adopted an ambitious new electoral strategy. It denounced both the Republican and Democratic parties as “organs of the capitalist ruling class,” and declared that its goal was to build “independent socialist political power.” The resolution was a clear break from the strategy of DSA’s founder, Michael Harrington, who hoped to gradually realign the Democratic Party to the left.

However, the resolution did not call for DSA to reconstitute itself as an independent political party. It remained open to running candidates in Democratic primaries, and even to local chapters endorsing non-socialist politicians on a case-by-case basis. This flexible approach is helping DSA members win unprecedented electoral victories—most notably with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s stunning upset in a New York congressional primary. But it also has its fair share of detractors who argue that any engagement with the Democratic Party is misguided and opportunistic.

Whether this assessment is accurate or not, DSA’s decision to avoid an all-out break with the Democrats has a rational basis. As the organization stated before its leftward shift, “the process and structure of American elections…[have] doomed third party efforts.” The United States has perhaps the most repressive electoral system in the developed world. Most states enforce draconian ballot access requirements on third party candidates and strictly regulate the organizational structure of political parties. Meanwhile, gerrymandering by both major parties has seated undemocratic legislatures, entrenched incumbent politicians, and made many elections uncompetitive.

Perhaps most importantly, nearly all American elections are based on plurality voting in single-member districts. This system creates the media-hyped “spoiler effect” in which marginal candidates draw voters away from one of the two major parties and unintentionally help the other. In 2000, the spoiler effect made an infamous contribution to George W. Bush’s presidential victory. More recently, it helped the vicious reactionary Paul LePage win two gubernatorial elections in Maine—once with less than 38% of the vote. Over time, the spoiler effect has frightened the public away from voting for third parties, contributing to their near-total marginalization.

Only extensive reforms can remove these obstacles to third party success, but the Republican and Democratic parties are both firmly invested in the existing political order and will never willingly change it. To most observers it seems like a hopeless situation, and even some socialists have called on the American Left to accept that we must work within the two-party system.

We should reject this defeatist outlook. The socialist project has always strived to “win the battle of democracy,” to achieve universal suffrage and other reforms that challenge the capitalist class. If our goal is to build a principled socialist movement with revolutionary ambitions, the very idea of two-party rule should be noxious to us and we must fight it tooth and nail. We need to conquer the ballot—to force a democratizing overhaul of the American electoral system.

And in Michigan, a grassroots campaign is showing us how.

The VNP Campaign

In December 2017, a Michigan activist group called Voters Not Politicians (VNP) announced that it had collected enough petition signatures to put a novel initiative on the ballot in November 2018. If it is passed, it will alter the state’s redistricting process by stripping the Republican-dominated legislature of its power to draw congressional and state legislative districts. Instead, redistricting will be conducted by an independent panel of citizen volunteers, selected by lot in a manner similar to juries. In a state like Michigan where gerrymandering is rampant, this would represent a groundbreaking democratic reform.

The success of the signature drive is particularly impressive because it was an all-volunteer campaign run on a shoestring budget, without a single paid petition circulator. Over 425,000 people have signed the initiative and polls indicate that a clear majority of Michigan voters support it. If they are given the chance, they will almost certainly pass the initiative—which is why its opponents, backed by the state’s Chamber of Commerce, fought bitterly to block it in the courts. In July this year, they lost, with the Michigan Supreme Court ruling that the measure would remain on the ballot in November.

Despite right-wing attempts at obstruction, the lessons of the VNP campaign are clear. Even with limited resources, grassroots organizers can use ballot initiatives to bypass establishment politicians, fight for electoral reforms, and win.

Eyes on the Prize

Twenty-four states, Washington, D.C., and countless local governments allow for some form of a citizen-led ballot initiative. If one group in Michigan could mount such an intriguing campaign, what could a national organization like DSA accomplish if it adopted a strategy for electoral overhaul through ballot initiatives? What kind of electoral reforms should socialists demand and which are the most important?

If we want to use ballot initiatives as a springboard for mass mobilization, we should emphasize broadly democratic reforms like the Michigan anti-gerrymandering measure. American voters on both the Left and Right are acutely aware of gerrymandering, and they universally hate it. They also hate the influence of corporate money in politics, so we should demand extensive public financing of elections to make races more egalitarian. If we tap into popular rage against the political elite, the public will increasingly view socialists not as a threat to democracy, but as its greatest champions. We could establish ourselves as a unique force willing to challenge both Republican and Democratic hacks, winning over a mass constituency not only from liberal demographic groups but also from traditionally conservative ones.

The same principle applies to reforms that more directly challenge the two-party system. Over 60% of Americans and 71% of Millennials feel that the United States needs a competitive third party. With their support, we should push initiatives to scrap unfair ballot access requirements and deregulate the structure of political parties. Ending plurality voting in single-member districts will be another crucial task. In state legislatures, we could implement proportional representation (PR), an electoral system that gives political parties representation directly tied to their percentage of the vote. Under PR, even single-digit support can often guarantee a party at least a few legislative seats. For a fledgling socialist group seeking a political foothold, this would be a godsend. There are many different types of PR—some of which would be more palatable to American voters than others—but all would represent an improvement over the current system.

At first glance, it might even seem possible to pass an initiative in a given state to have its members of Congress be elected with proportional representation. Nothing in the Constitution forbids a state from doing this. But sadly, federal law does: since 1967, it has mandated that all House representatives be elected in single-member districts. This means that at least in the beginning, our efforts to win proportional representation will have to focus on state legislatures and local governments.

Thankfully, federal law does not require that representatives be chosen by plurality vote. This opens up the possibility of an alternative federal-level reform: instant-runoff voting, which allows voters to rank multiple candidates in order of preference instead of choosing only one. If no candidate receives a clear majority vote, a series of simulated runoffs are conducted until one candidate emerges as the victor. Instant-runoff voting does not produce proportional representation, but it helps third-party candidates compete by largely eliminating the spoiler effect. Last year in Minneapolis, where instant runoff has been used for nearly a decade, Ginger Jentzen ran for city council on a Socialist Alternative ticket, with additional support from the local DSA chapter. She won 34% of the vote in a four-way race, with more people selecting her as their first choice than any other candidate. Jentzen did not win the election, but her performance was excellent when compared to the single-digit results of most American third party campaigns.

Working state by state, we could implement instant-runoff voting for both House and Senate elections. Just a few successful initiatives could have tremendous political implications: Florida and California both allow ballot initiatives, and together they account for almost 20% of the seats in the House of Representatives.

In summary, our electoral reform program should raise five key demands: citizen-controlled redistricting to counter gerrymandering, public financing of elections, elimination of restrictive ballot access laws, deregulation of political parties, and an end to plurality rule in single-member districts—which could entail proportional representation in state legislatures and instant runoff voting at the federal level. Taken individually, these reforms would be policy tweaks that any liberal technocrat could propose. But if we push them collectively, as part of a broader radical movement, they could revolutionize working-class politics and smash the two-party system forever.

The Perils on the Path

This initiative-based strategy is the most realistic path to electoral reform in the United States, but it would still present serious legal and financial challenges. Many states not only require a tremendous number of signatures for an initiative to qualify for the ballot, but also have distribution rules mandating that they are collected in many different counties or congressional districts. Some states only allow initiatives for constitutional amendments, while others only allow them for ordinary legislation. There are often requirements that each initiative address no more than one issue, and limits to the number of articles in the state’s constitution that they can change. In this daunting maze of regulations, signature drives alone can cost millions of dollars. Subsequent campaign expenditures often exceed $10 million.

These problems raise a vast array of strategic questions that could never be adequately explored in a single article:

  • Which states should we target first?
  • Should we push our reforms incrementally, or all at the same time?
  • If we do push our reforms all at once, should they be placed on the ballot as individual initiatives, or be bundled together in a single package?
  • How can we raise the funds necessary to mount credible campaigns?
  • Can we always rely on volunteers as Voters Not Politicians did in Michigan, or will paid signature collectors sometimes be necessary?

There are no easy answers to these questions, but if DSA or another socialist organization chooses to adopt this strategy, it will have to grapple with them regardless. We will need a flexible approach that can be adapted to each state’s political context and regulatory limitations. Only two things seem clear: first, that we should generally gain experience organizing initiatives at the local level before we attempt them at the state level; and second, we cannot win electoral reform all by ourselves—we will need to find allies willing to provide additional support to our project. This may entail partnerships with a wide variety of existing third parties, as well as elements of organized labor. Coalitions of this type will not form overnight; it will take years of work to bring them together. We must maintain our independence every of the way, working closely with other organizations without compromising on our basic principles.

The initiative strategy also has geographic limits. Because only 24 states have an initiative process, in the other 26 our road to victory will be more complicated. To succeed, we will need to employ a wide variety of tactics. We should strive to win municipal-level electoral reforms in every city, since even small local breakthroughs will help us gain momentum. We should also be willing to run socialist candidates in the primaries of both major parties, and use these campaigns to publicly confront politicians who reject electoral reform. Hopefully these efforts, combined with victories in states that do allow ballot initiatives, will cement popular enthusiasm for our reform program. The tide of public opinion would force politicians in states without initiatives to give way or face primary challenges, electoral defeats, mass protest, and constant upheaval.

In areas where our movement is strong and the Democrats are politically dominant, we could also use the spoiler effect to our advantage. Far ahead of a given election, we could publicly announce a plan to run our candidates on an independent socialist ticket, even if it splits the left-liberal vote. Democrats would receive a clear warning: pass electoral reforms before the election arrives, or face the natural consequences of plurality voting. If they ignored our warning and then lost to Republican candidates, we would not shoulder the blame. Instead, we would remind the public that the Democrats had a chance to block the Republican victory and refused. Disillusioned liberal voters would radicalize and break with the Democratic Party, benefiting socialists in the long run despite the short-term electoral consequences.

Beating Democrats with the “spoiler stick” will not work everywhere, and it has considerable limitations. It could bring an end to the plurality system that produces vote-splitting, but it would not win more transformative changes like proportional representation. Even so, the tactic could energize our movement and force our demands onto the political agenda if we learn to use it strategically.

Elements of the spoiler stick tactic have already worked in the real world. In Maine, Democrats grew tired of the constant vote-splitting that put Paul LePage in power and realized that there was only one way to eliminate it. They backed a ballot measure to implement instant-runoff voting in nearly all of the state’s elections, and in 2016, it passed with 52% of the vote. It was the first statewide law to abolish plurality voting—and an encouraging sign that initiatives can create a democratic mandate for electoral reform.

But the initiative effort in Maine also illustrates the greatest obstacle to electoral reform: capitalist sabotage. Despite the clear majority support for the initiative, Maine Republicans have staunchly opposed instant-runoff voting, which led the state’s Supreme Court to issue a nonbinding opinion in 2017 claiming that most of the initiative’s provisions are unconstitutional. This opinion gave members of the state legislature, including some wary Democrats, an excuse to pass a bill that effectively repealed the initiative. Only another initiative, signed by over 80,000 people, was able to block this bill by subjecting it to a veto referendum at the state’s recent primary elections. On June 12th, Maine voters decided once again to save instant runoff—but the court opinion has ensured that it will only be used in the state’s federal elections.

Reform efforts in other parts of the country have been met with similar obstruction. In 2008, 65% of Sante Fe, NM voters passed an initiative for instant-runoff voting in their local elections. The city government responded by simply ignoring them, with the Democratic mayor even claiming that they “voted for the concept…without understanding what it meant.” Local officials dragged their feet on the initiative for years, refusing to implement it until an activist group sued and the New Mexico Supreme Court ordered them to back down. In March this year, Sante Fe voters used the new system for the first time—after waiting for a decade.

From Michigan to Maine

Socialists can anticipate all of these pitfalls and take steps to address them. We can write our reforms carefully to minimize legal obstruction, promote them effectively so that voters overwhelmingly support them, and sue whenever officials refuse to implement them. But even if we make all the right decisions, there is no way around it: electoral reform will face formidable opposition from political elites. Occasionally we may wring concessions from both parties of capital, but in general, they will unite in bitter hostility to any movement for increased democracy—especially if it is championed by the radical left.

The conquest of ballots will not be bipartisan. Every step of the way it will bring conflict, and if we want to win, we can’t shy away from it. Instead, we must embrace the battle of democracy, using it to radicalize working people and forge an independent party of the Left.  

From Michigan to Maine, the lesson is clear: the path to electoral reform is narrow, but it’s still open.

It’s time for us to take it.

Why Have a Political Program?

Parker McQueeney lays out the case for building a party around a minimum-maximum program. 

Every party pursues definite aims, whether it be a party of landowners or capitalists, on the one hand, or a party of workers or peasants, on the other… If it be a party of capitalists and factory owners, it will have its own aims: to procure cheap labour, to keep the workers well in hand, to find customers to toil harder—but, above all, so to arrange matters that the workers will have no tendency to allow their thoughts to turn towards ideas of a new social order; let the workers think that there always have been masters and always will be masters… The programme is for every party a matter of supreme importance. From the programme we can always learn what interests the party represents.

—Nikolai Bukharin and Yevgeni Preobrazhensky,
The ABC of Communism, 1920

In the Autumn of 1891, Germany’s socialist party—the Social Democratic Party of Germany, or SPD—had only the world to win. Just one year prior, the party’s chief prosecutor and preeminent tyrant of the European continent, Otto von Bismarck, was forced to resign. The Reichstag refused to renew Bismarck’s Anti-Socialist laws, which had shut down dozens of newspapers, trade unions, and socialist meetings. This all happened within the span of a month. It is safe to say that when the party met for its Congress in Erfurt, they were bolstered in a manner that European socialists had not been since the rise of the Paris Commune twenty years before. The Erfurt Program is notable for a myriad of reasons, not least of which includes the declaration that:

The German Social Democratic Party… fights for the abolition of class rule and of classes themselves, for equal rights and equal obligations for all, without distinction of sex or birth… it fights not only the exploitation and oppression of wage earners in society today, but every manner of exploitation and oppression, whether directed against a class, party, sex, or race.1

The Erfurt Program asserted, as Marx had, that socialists must fight for democratic rights within bourgeois society. With historical hindsight, it seems clear enough that capitalism cannot be abolished via a socialist party simply winning elections in a bourgeois government. In Bolivarian Venezuela, Mitterand’s France, and Tsipras’s Greece, the governing socialist parties were able to sit behind the wheel of a liberal democracy, yet none of these countries were able to meaningfully disrupt capitalism. This does not mean that basic bourgeois-democratic rights have no use to even the most revolutionary of socialists; the SPD learned under Bismarck that universal suffrage, the right to free assembly, the ability to form unions, and the abolition of censorship are all helpful to a proletariat undergoing a transformation into a “class-for-itself”. Although winning these reforms are not the first step on the path to socialism, they do clear debris that blocks the entrance. “If all the 10 demands were granted,” Friedrich Engels speculated in his critique of the Erfurt Program draft, “we should indeed have more diverse means of achieving our main political aim, but the aim itself would in no [way] have been achieved.”2

Karl Kautsky, the primary theorist behind the Erfurt Program.

The more lasting legacy the Erfurt Program had on socialist thought was in its popularization of the minimum and maximum program—though these were abstracted from Karl Marx and Jules Guesde in their program for the French Workers’ Party, eleven years prior.3Since Erfurt, the program has been the focal point for every party of the class. As Bukharin and Preobrazhensky argue in The ABC of Communism, “The programme is for every party a matter of supreme importance. From the programme we can always learn what interests the party represents.4 Theoretically, the minimum program, which was the party’s reform platform, would win over a mass base of workers by improving their immediate conditions. When enacted in full, it would give the party the necessary mandate and class power to enable its maximum program, or the revolutionary measures required to actually eradicate the dictatorship of capital and begin the process of developing a socialist mode of production. In reality, the SPD—along with the other parties of the Second International—eschewed their maximum programs as they became gradually more entrenched into the bourgeois constitutional order. Whether in the trade union bureaucracy, the universities, or the Reichstag, the Second International’s loyalty to the capitalist state and nation eventually led the majority of its parties to abandon internationalism by siding with their respective home countries during the outbreak of World War I. It is a tragedy often lamented on the Left.

Although the term amounts to welfare state liberalism today, the social democrats of Erfurt were largely Marxists. Nevertheless, as a nominally social democratic movement appears to be re-emerging onto American politics for the first time in the life of many of its participants, what can contemporary socialists in the United States learn from the original social democrats? In many ways, the US Left is in a similar position that German social democrats found themselves in around the time of the Erfurt Congress. Both had recently come out with some unthinkable—at least to the ruling class—victories after decades of suppression and neither had ever meaningfully seen power. More importantly, the 1891 SPD and the 2018 American Left share a common primary task: the consolidation of workers into a class-for-ourselves, cognizant of our common condition and interests.

What were the minimum demands of the Erfurt Program? The first seven dealt exclusively with securing and expanding democratic-republican rights. Perhaps shockingly, many of their demands would still be progressive gains 127 years later: legal holidays on election days, ending voter suppression, popular militias in place of standing armies, free meals for school children, gender equality in the legal sphere, elected judges, and the end of capital punishment. The first seven demands read:

  • Universal, equal, and direct suffrage with secret ballot in all elections, for all citizens of the Reich over the age of twenty, without distinction of sex. Proportional representation, and, until this is introduced, legal redistribution of electoral districts after every census. Two-year legislative periods. Holding of elections on a legal holiday. Compensation for elected representatives. Suspension of every restriction on political rights, except in the case of legal incapacity.
  • Direct legislation by the people through the rights of proposal and rejection. Self-determination and self-government of the people in Reich, state, province, and municipality. Election by the people of magistrates, who are answerable and liable to them. Annual voting of taxes.
  • Education of all to bear arms. Militia in the place of the standing army. Determination by the popular assembly on questions of war and peace. Settlement of all international disputes by arbitration.
  • Abolition of all laws that place women at a disadvantage compared with men in matters of public or private law.Abolition of all laws that limit or suppress the free expression of opinion and restrict or suppress the right of association and assembly. Declaration that religion is a private matter. Abolition of all expenditures from public funds for ecclesiastical and religious purposes. Ecclesiastical and religious communities are to be regarded as private associations that regulate their affairs entirely autonomously.
  • Secularization of schools. Compulsory attendance at the public Volksschule [extended elementary school]. Free education, free educational materials, and free meals in the public Volksschulen, as well as at higher educational institutions for those boys and girls considered qualified for further education by virtue of their abilities.
  • Free administration of justice and free legal assistance. Administration of the law by judges elected by the people. Appeal in criminal cases. Compensation for individuals unjustly accused, imprisoned, or sentenced. Abolition of capital punishment.

It is important to note that although these were serious, immediate demands, some were not “realistic” nor “winnable”. Women’s suffrage was not granted in Germany until nearly 30 years after the Erfurt Program was drafted. Replacing the standing army with a militia was perhaps the most radical of all their demands: the Prussian state was highly centralized, and to eradicate the standing army would have amounted to a revolutionary rupture within the state. When drafting a political program, even when demanding reforms, it’s important for socialists not to limit our horizons to what bourgeois politicians and their apologists tell us is possible; otherwise, we are liable to again tail their inevitable sprints to the right. Ideally, a socialist program would include measures that, once undertaken, will not only improve the condition of the working class, but begin to dismantle the dictatorship of capital.

Cover of Erfurt Program, 1892

The next group of demands were in the economic sphere, and included free healthcare, burial, a progressive tax, a series of labor demands surrounding unions, the work-day, the creation of a department of labor, etc.:

  • Free medical care, including midwifery and medicines. Free burial.
  • Graduated income and property tax for defraying all public expenditures, to the extent that they are to be paid for by taxation. Inheritance tax, graduated according to the size of the inheritance and the degree of kinship. Abolition of all indirect taxes, customs, and other economic measures that sacrifice the interests of the community to those of a privileged few.
  • Fixing of a normal working day not to exceed eight hours.
  • Prohibition of gainful employment for children under the age of fourteen.
  • Prohibition of night work, except in those industries that require night work for inherent technical reasons or for reasons of public welfare.
  • An uninterrupted rest period of at least thirty-six hours every week for every worker.
  • Prohibition of the truck system.
  • Supervision of all industrial establishments, investigation and regulation of working conditions in the cities and the countryside by a Reich labor department, district labor bureaus, and chambers of labor. Rigorous industrial hygiene.
  • Legal equality of agricultural laborers and domestic servants with industrial workers; abolition of the laws governing domestics.
  • Safeguarding of the freedom of association.
  • Takeover by the Reich government of the entire system of workers’ insurance, with decisive participation by the workers in its administration.

The reason these demands were worth fighting for was twofold. Most obviously, things like political enfranchisement and universal healthcare alleviate some of the alienation caused by capitalist society. Perhaps more crucially though, these demands were posited by a working-class institution with a working-class awareness.

What is a working-class institution? Historically, they may mirror republican civic institutions, but within the class party. A good example of an institution within the SPD was its party school. Every class party needs political education, recruiting the working masses is a foolish endeavor without internal political clarification and cadre training- not to unquestioningly accept party dogmatism, but to properly apply the historical materialist methodology and critical analysis to the daily struggles of workers. In her piece on the SPD party school for the British Left magazine The Clarion, Rida Vaquas writes:

…the best demonstration of what the Party School could achieve of a project comes not from the words of its teachers, but from the legacies of its students. In a 1911 retrospective of the Party School after 5 years of its existence, Heinrich Schulz recorded the debts students owed their school experience: “A trade union official observes that he learned how to conceive of phenomena in economic life better through his school instruction, another gained a deeper insight into the whole political and trade union life, a third traces back his greater confidence against political and economic opponents to the school”. The school, when it succeeded, was a training in how to think, not what to think.5

Working class institution can take forms not only of political education but of what some socialists label “dual power” (though not in the way Lenin used the term). They have taken the form of free health clinics, breakfast programs for school children, housing, and worker cooperatives, or any number of things, but they need to be part of a larger project of working-class political struggle: the class party.

Despite the innovations of the Erfurt Program, the SPD, along with most of the parties from the Second International, voted for war credits in 1914 causing a traumatic rupture in the international socialist movement. There were, however, a few examples of the classical social democratic parties that retained their internationalist class solidarity. One of these was a party that contemporary American socialists can and should study, and it’s one of our own ancestors: the Socialist Party of America. The 1912 SPA platform, adopted in May at a congress in Indianapolis, follows a similar format to the Erfurt Program. The 106-year-old document is chillingly relevant. The introduction of its minimum program plainly states its ultimate goal:

As measures calculated to strengthen the working class in its fight for the realization of its ultimate aim, the co-operative commonwealth, and to increase its power against capitalist oppression, we advocate and pledge ourselves and our elected officers to the following program…

It starts with several paragraphs outlining the broad goals of the Socialist Party—its maximum program—declaring the nation to be “in the absolute control of a plutocracy which exacts an annual tribute of hundreds of millions of dollars from the producers.” It declares unilaterally that capitalism is the source of destitution in the working class, that “the legislative representatives of the Republican and Democratic parties remain the faithful servants of the oppressors”, and any legislation attempting at balancing the distance between classes “have proved to be utterly futile and ridiculous.” It says plainly that

there will be and can be no remedy and no substantial relief except through Socialism under which industry will be carried on for the common good and every worker receive the full social value of the wealth he creates.

The minimum demands of the 1912 SPA platform constitute a significant improvement compared to the Erfurt Program. Instead of two sections—one political, one economic—the SPA platform includes four sections: collective ownership, unemployment, industrial demands, and political demands. The collective ownership section only reinforces the point that the socialist platform when enacted should create a rupture in the class character of the state:

  • The collective ownership and democratic management of railroads, wire and wireless telegraphs and telephones, express service, steamboat lines, and all other social means of transportation and communication and of all large scale industries.
  • The immediate acquirement by the municipalities, the states or the federal government of all grain elevators, stock yards, storage warehouses, and other distributing agencies, in order to reduce the present extortionate cost of living.
  • The extension of the public domain to include mines, quarries, oil wells, forests and water power.
  • The further conservation and development of natural resources for the use and benefit of all the people . . .
  • The collective ownership of land wherever practicable, and in cases where such ownership is impracticable, the appropriation by taxation of the annual rental value of all the land held for speculation and exploitation.
  • The collective ownership and democratic management of the banking and currency system.

It is clear that the nationalization of the bourgeois state’s institutional levers of power; banks, currency, natural resources, land, distribution centers, transportation, and communications, would catalyze the disintegration of capitalist class rule. It’s important to note that these were the very first things listed on the platform.

The next section dealt with a universal jobs demand. Unlike the Erfurt Program, here the American socialists remind themselves of who their ultimate enemy is in evoking the maximum program and capitalist class “misrule”:

The immediate government relief of the unemployed by the extension of all useful public works. All persons employed on such works to be engaged directly by the government under a work day of not more than eight hours and at not less than the prevailing union wages. The government also to establish employment bureaus; to lend money to states and municipalities without interest for the purpose of carrying on public works, and to take such other measures within its power as will lessen the widespread misery of the workers caused by the misrule of the capitalist class.

This isn’t a radical demand in 2018; it’s even looking likely that Senator Bernie Sanders will make it a key point in the next presidential campaign, and he is often the first one to admit his positions are not radical. In 1912 however, before the Wagner Act of 1935 was passed, “employees… [did] not possess full freedom of association or actual liberty of contract”The Wagner Act, also known as the National Labor Relations Act, which had legalized strikes and union organizing as well as guaranteed the right to collective bargaining, was severely gutted twelve years later under the Truman administration.

The SPA’s industrial demands contain standard labor issues that American socialists had been calling on for years, mostly dealing with workplace safety, reducing work hours, child labor laws, establishing minimum wage, etc. One calls for an establishment of a pension system. A few demands stand out, however, one prefiguring prison abolitionism calling for “the co-operative organization of the industries in the federal penitentiaries for the benefit of the convicts and their dependents.Another calls for “forbidding the interstate transportation of the products of child labor, of convict labor and all uninspected factories and mines.” Perhaps their most creative and radical demand was “abolishing the profit system in government work and substituting either the direct hire of labor or the awarding of contracts to co-operative groups of workers.” It’s hard to imagine events like the Iraq War or the recent human disaster in Puerto Rico happening the way they did without the juicy private contracts (although there is nothing about a worker cooperative that inherently prevents it from taking part in imperial plundering).

The political demands section proposes a broad outline for transforming the state:

  • The absolute freedom of press, speech and assemblage.
  • The abolition of the monopoly ownership of patents and the substitution of collective ownership, with direct rewards to inventors by premiums or royalties.
  • Unrestricted and equal suffrage for men and women.
  • The adoption of the initiative, referendum and recall and of proportional representation, nationally as well as locally.
  • The abolition of the Senate and of the veto power of the President.
  • The election of the President and Vice-President by direct vote of the people.
  • The abolition of the power usurped by the Supreme Court of the United States to pass upon the constitutionality of the legislation enacted by Congress. National laws to be repealed only by act of Congress or by a referendum vote of the whole people.
  • Abolition of the present restrictions upon the amendment of the Constitution, so that instrument may be made amendable by a majority of the voters in a majority of the States.
  • The granting of the right of suffrage in the District of Columbia with representation in Congress and a democratic form of municipal government for purely local affairs.
  • The extension of democratic government to all United States territory.
  • The enactment of further measures for the conservation of health. The creation of an independent bureau of health, with such restrictions as will secure full liberty to all schools of practice.
  • The enactment of further measures for general education and particularly for vocational education in useful pursuits. The Bureau of Education to be made a department.
  • The separation of the present Bureau of Labor from the Department of Commerce and Labor and its elevation to the rank of a department.
  • Abolition of an federal districts courts and the United States circuit court of appeals. State courts to have jurisdiction in all cases arising between citizens of several states and foreign corporations. The election of all judges for short terms.
  • The immediate curbing of the power of the courts to issue injunctions.
  • The free administration of the law.
  • The calling of a convention for the revision of the constitution of the US.

Here the Socialist Party lists some serious alterations to the existing governmental structure. They call for the abolition of the Senate with its overrepresentation for people in less populous states, the electoral college, the presidential veto, and judicial review. They demand a process for popular recall of politicians and legislation. They even call for a new constitutional convention. All of these things would be improvements and are predicated on a big enough success of the Socialist Party to implement them (otherwise, a constitutional convention could obviously be disastrous). These demands on their own however do not constitute a rupture with the bourgeois state. It is the political demands in combination with their collective ownership demands that do, by first eviscerating the major sources of economic power from their capitalists. These measures would only constitute the beginning of a revolutionary rupture from the capitalist class rule, as the last part of the platform states,

Such measures of relief as we may be able to force from capitalism are but a preparation of the workers to seize the whole powers of government, in order that they may thereby lay hold of the whole system of socialized industry and thus come to their rightful inheritance.

The socialist magazine Jacobin, which is heavily associated with the Democratic Socialists of America (and its largest chapter in New York City) has seemingly adopted as creed what Andre Gorz named “non-reformist reforms”. Gorz believed the dichotomy of the pre-war era between militant revolution or reform no longer existed. Now that armed insurrection was forever a relic of a simpler time, Gorz argued that the only route to socialism was by pushing reform that couldn’t be usurped by capital. Like many in his generation, Gorz saw the development of a postwar middle class and concluded that class struggle would forever be muted in the imperialist countries. The logical basis for this assumption can only be one thing: by entering the middle class and becoming propertied homeowners (among other things) first-world workers transitioned into a social category where revolution was no longer in their interests. As the onslaught of austerity and neoliberalism has proven, class struggle is not mutable, and to proclaim so is the gravest abandonment of the historical materialist methodology. Today, the  question of reform vs. revolution is just as relevant as when Rosa Luxemburg wrote:

Legislative reform and revolution are not different methods of historic development that can be picked out at the pleasure from the counter of history, just as one chooses hot or cold sausages. Legislative reform and revolution are different factors in the development of class society. They condition and complement each other, and are at the same time reciprocally exclusive, as are the north and south poles, the bourgeoisie and proletariat.6

Truly “non-reformist reforms”, like those in the SPA platform of 1912, do not discount the possibility of a class social revolution, they depend on it. The current use of the term repeats all the same mistakes of Bernstein’s evolutionary socialism that Rosa Luxemburg famously polemicized.

The major “non-reformist reforms” today seems to be shaped around a few key maxims, not dissimilar to some of the demands from the earlier German and American socialists: “tuition-free public universities”, “Medicare-for all”, and more recently, “abolish ICE”. But how did these demands develop? They were not produced organically by working-class institutions. They were touted by individuals claiming to be democratic socialists, running on the Democratic Party ballot line. First by Bernie Sanders, next through Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Immediately they were taken up by Jacobin and the DSA.

Could socialists temporarily use the Democratic ballot line, where third party campaigns are untenable until the mass base for an independent socialist party is built? Perhaps, though this is a debate for another time. But should this really be how socialist demands are developed? Instead of echoing demands scribed by politicians, they should be echoing our demands. And our demands should be in service to the ascension of the proletariat as a politically independent class actor, and towards a rupture with the capitalist nature of the state.

The most prominent socialist group in the US, Democratic Socialists of America, lacks any real political program. Its chapters are too federated, and the biennial national conventions are not frequent nor far-reaching enough for it to be a force for class struggle on a wide scale. How can there be “non-reformist reforms” without a class organization with unified goals pushing them? Instead of allowing independent politicians with support from socialists to steer the conversation with demands like  “abolish ICE”, we should be giving our demands to them. The Immigrant Justice Working Group of the Central New Jersey DSA provides for us a good example of what 21st century socialist demands look like:

  • An immediate end to all detentions and deportations, and dismissal of all related charges.
  • Abolition of ICE and all other military or quasi-military border forces.
  • Unconditional right to asylum to be granted upon request to anyone coming from a country that has been negatively impacted by US military or economic policies, or the policies of US corporations.
  • Citizenship and full rights (such as access to entitlement programs) upon request to anyone who has lived or worked in the US for at least six months.

The modern United States is not the Prussian state of 130 years ago, nor are its socialists facing the same conditions they faced in 1912. Demands that socialists make must reflect the realities of contemporary capitalism and its world system: nobody wants to merely recreate the old SPD or SPA. Still, there is no need to reinvent the wheel. Socialists should be making demands that go beyond reverting to Bush-era normalcy: they should be pushing demands that the bourgeois parties tell us are impossible, and a political program is the only way to do so. These demands should aim to build class power both in the economic and political spheres. If DSA chapters started internally adopting programs with a little vision, they could eventually map one onto the national organization. DSA needs to become part of an organization with real class power independent of the Democrats, and it will never do that without first adopting formal demands at the national level that differentiates itself as a party divested from the interests of the capitalist class. Without a political program, we have no way of seriously posing an alternative to the established parties of capital, and articulating a vision of society for the democratic class rule of workers.

 

Where Does Power Come From?

What is power and how do we build it? Amelia Davenport argues that power must be built through the organization of mass communist institutions independent of the state.

The Question of Power

Where does power come from? Mao Zedong1 claimed it “grows out of the barrel of a gun”, while Bill Haywood claimed it comes from the folded arms of workers refusing to produce.2 For Saul Alinsky, power exists in the minds of others as much as in your real capacity. He said, “power is not only what you have but what the enemy thinks you have.”3 Is power the material ability to promote a viewpoint by force? Is it the ability to remove the power of your enemy to meet their aims? Or is the perception of the threat you pose to your enemy’s power decisive?

While the first two propositions put power directly in your hands, the third does not. Increasing the perception of your power merely magnifies the efficacy of existing power you built. This doesn’t mean that the projection of power is not important tactically; it can allow a stronger negotiating position in fights where you cannot achieve total victory, like in day-to-day union struggles. But it can be tactically ill-advised to seem strong. Sometimes it is better for your strength to be underestimated, like in mobilizations against police. What defines your strength in the projection of power is your ability to shape perception. It’s not simply a function of how powerful you seem. Power is the independent capacity to make changes in the world without relying on the strength of other forces.

In the socialist movement the question of power is paramount. We are ostensibly for building workers’ power, but what that means in concrete terms is highly contentious. For many self-described socialists and Marxists, making the lives of workers in capitalism easier by leveraging infrastructure to win reforms is building power. Many in this camp call themselves “base-builders.” This is a term originally developed by anti-electoral Marxists. But electoral Marxists adopted it because they saw creating mutual aid networks and workplace organizations, or “bases,” as a means to increase electoral capacity in the long run. But what kind of “power” are you building if your aim is to use the capitalist state as a vehicle?

When you lobby a legislature to put legal restrictions on capitalism, what you’re really doing is begging for the cops to do the work of our class. You’re asking the cops to go in and arrest people who refuse to comply; you’re asking the capitalists to pay fees which are, in effect, donations to the imperialist military. You’re making a lot of noise and creating a lot of pressure, but once the campaign is done, everything goes back to equilibrium with no new lasting power on the side of the workers. In many cases, financial penalties levied on companies are simply factored into the cost of doing business. Real power remains firmly in the hands of the state and the capitalist class, with only a slight shift on the balance sheet between the two. Trying to use the power of the capitalist state is an admission that you have no real power.

One could object that this applies to unions as well: that union struggle leaves the power with the boss at the end of the day, and that tactics like strikes are merely a form of lobbying. But while there is a superficial similarity, union struggle and parliamentary struggle are entirely different: unions can create permanent structures that actively include workers in the fight for better conditions; a union committee constantly builds up the skills and capacity of the workers in a shop, and shows workers that they have the ability to force changes directly rather than relying on third parties. This permanent structure created by unions, when in the hands of revolutionaries, serves as the nucleus of the future organization of labor under socialism. By seeking to unite workers across industries into one democratically controlled structure, they set the stage for the future administration of the labor process in the future socialist commonwealth.

To be sure there are “unions” that actively work against this principle and are more like dues-collecting private insurance agencies than organs of class struggle. This is the difference between “red” unions and “yellow” unions: red unions are based on class struggle and, while they include workers with many different views, require their members to oppose the wage-system; yellow unions are based on the idea of a “fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work” and the unity of interests between capital and labor. Yellow unions seek to benefit members of a particular trade or industry at the expense of all others, while red unions fight for all members of the working class even if they’re not in the union. Where yellow unions rely on government arbitration and the courts, red unions enforce their demands themselves with action on the shop floor. If a boss goes back on his promise of higher wages, workers in a red union take matters into their own hands to put stress on his pocketbook through direct action; in a yellow union, they rely on the state as a third party to enforce contracts.

Red unions have existed in many times and places in the class struggle: the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW)—particularly in its 1905–1945 heyday, but also now; United Electrical, Radio and Machine Workers of America (UE); the early Irish Transport and General Workers Union; the SI Cobas in Italy; the National Confederation of Labor (CNT) in Spain; and both the Spanish and French General Confederation of Labor. Yellow unions include all existing American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations (AFL-CIO) unions—no matter how many Marxists and Anarchists are in their leadership—and the vast majority of unions worldwide.

The difference between red unions and yellow unions is not always clear, and one can be transformed into the other. There are often red caucuses within yellow unions and reactionary currents in red unions. Class struggle takes place within the union just as much as between the union and the boss. As unionists occupy businesses that have failed due to capitalist crisis they can create worker-run firms—as UE did when they founded New Era Windows—and they can push for greater autonomy for workers in running production under capitalism. While red unions don’t totally eschew contracts and benefits, their focus is on creating long-term institutional power for workers. To be sure, the building of red unions is a long and arduous task, one which requires the building of capacity that revolutionary socialists are only now starting to regain. But they remain one important part of the overall struggle against capitalism.

In the case of unions, as in the case of armed struggle, power requires collective action. Mao’s dictum about power coming from the gun is only true if there are many guns. Direct action on behalf of the masses can take many forms: industrial sabotage, individual terrorism, blockades and other tactics. The act of individual terrorism is a tactic that has long outlived its ability to effect social change, and the actions of a lone worker to sabotage industry in a demand for rights have no beneficial effect. As Leon Trotsky argued in “Why Marxists Oppose Individualist Terrorism”:

In our eyes, individual terror is inadmissible precisely because it belittles the role of the masses in their own consciousness, reconciles them to their powerlessness, and turns their eyes and hopes towards a great avenger and liberator who some day will come and accomplish his mission. The anarchist prophets of the ‘propaganda of the deed’ can argue all they want about the elevating and stimulating influence of terrorist acts on the masses. Theoretical considerations and political experience prove otherwise. The more ‘effective’ the terrorist acts, the greater their impact, the more they reduce the interest of the masses in self-organisation and self-education. But the smoke from the confusion clears away, the panic disappears, the successor of the murdered minister makes his appearance, life again settles into the old rut, the wheel of capitalist exploitation turns as before; only the police repression grows more savage and brazen. And as a result, in place of the kindled hopes and artificially aroused excitement comes disillusionment and apathy.4

This same principle applies to anarchist “direct action” which—unlike true direct action, which is necessarily collective and organized—is really ‘the propaganda of the deed’ renamed. Propaganda of the deed was the strategy of small cells of anarchists engaging in terrorist actions like bombings, assassinations, sabotage, and so on to galvanize the passive masses into revolutionary consciousness by showing them the ruling powers were weak. Anarchist “direct action” is carried out by “affinity groups.” Affinity groups are small autonomous cells of anarchist militants that self-organize, they are inherently vanguardist, in a much more profound sense than most self-described vanguard parties. When affinity groups try to engage in labor struggle they only alienate the majority of workers. They are elitist because of their rejection of the democratic principle. Political action requires mass organizations, not militant minorities. This model is not exclusive to anarchists, some Council Communists and other Marxist currents also reject the creation of permanent democratic workers bodies on the shop floor. For example, the journal Intransigence hosts authors sharing in the insurrectionary anarchist view. A union grows the collective organizational capacity of the working class. It requires a majority of its members to be fully on board with its vision to work.

This principle is also why the Leninist “militant minority” model is flawed: rather than make the whole union socialist, the union is kept formally apolitical while a politicized cadre of radicals pushes the rank and file into more advanced positions and militant tactics. Unless the radical committee seeks to directly include all union members in the class struggle consciously, they will at best be the equivalent of government socialists within the union. Radical unionists might capture leadership in a yellow union, but without changing the nature of the union, in practice they become business unionists. This is proven by the century of Communist and Anarchist leaders in the AFL having utterly failed to make more than ephemeral gains in radicalism. The same is true of all areas of the working-class struggle: workers’ institutions seek to include as many people as possible in their administration and activity, rather than promoting the idea of the “savior” which NGOs unconsciously promote.

Unlike red unions whose primary—but not exclusive—function is to negotiate with the boss, red parties do not have to negotiate with the state as a primary task. The task of red parties is to prepare for a contest of power between the working class and the capitalist class. Building power requires clear strategy and comprehensive analysis; without understanding a situation one’s ability to shape outcomes within it are limited. The task of a workers’ party is to forge the working class into a political category for itself, set forth the class’ aims, develop the requisite theory to understand how to realize those aims, and help build forms of class power capable of defense from—and inroads on—capitalist domination.

Power is the capacity to strategically leverage collective action in order to effect desired changes; it can manifest either as coercive force positively applied or as a negative withdrawal of collective labor. Often, power is expressed in both ways at once: scabs who threaten the livelihood of strikers are met with collective force and revolutionary civil wars require mutinies in the state’s forces. Building resilient forms of working-class power requires us to be clear about our methods if the owning class is to be overthrown.

The Road to Power

Historically, the socialist movement has generally used two methods of articulating its aims: the minimum-maximum program and the transitional program.

The minimum-maximum program was created by the early Marxists to synthesize between two existing—but wrongheaded—approaches to creating demands: the “Possibilists” created programs which laid out demands they saw as winnable and refused to agitate for more radical changes, lest they be unelectable; On the other hand there were the “Impossibilists,” whose programs consisted of the immediate abolition of capitalism and other necessary tasks of socialism which could never be passed by a bourgeois legislature. The Impossibilists saw the role of elections as purely agitational. By combining the two approaches into one unified whole, the Minimum-Maximum program had one section which laid out the ultimate goals of the revolution, and another section which advanced winnable objectives that the capitalist state could concede on.

The first example of a minimum-maximum program was the Program of the French Workers’ Party of 1880. Based on demands adopted from the workers’ movement, Karl Marx and Jules Guesde lay out a concise description of the aims of communism in the preamble, then list a set of demands that are winnable within capitalism. The vast majority of these demands are negative in relation to the state: freedom of the press, the abolition of the army, abolition of indirect taxes such as tariffs and taxes on commodities. Others are negative in relation to capitalism: prohibiting interference by bosses in union activity, banning wages below a minimum amount, mandating the reduction of the working day.5 The program also demands state funding of child rearing, equal pay for equal work between the sexes and races, education standards requiring scientific instruction, the transformation of state-owned enterprises into worker-managed firms, and workplace accident insurance funded by bosses and controlled by the workers, among other provisions.

While the authors advocate the use of the state to regulate employers and education, it is clear that their primary concerns were with limiting state power. Insofar as they called for the expansion of the state, it was to constrain capitalist abuse of the working class, and insofar as they demanded payment from the state for childcare, it was without bureaucratic restrictions. Five years earlier, in the Critique of the Gotha Program, Marx wrote:

“Elementary education by the state” is altogether objectionable. Defining by a general law the expenditures on the elementary schools, the qualifications of the teaching staff, the branches of instruction, etc., and, as is done in the United States, supervising the fulfillment of these legal specifications by state inspectors, is a very different thing from appointing the state as the educator of the people! Government and church should rather be equally excluded from any influence on the school. Particularly, indeed, in the Prusso-German Empire (and one should not take refuge in the rotten subterfuge that one is speaking of a “state of the future”; we have seen how matters stand in this respect) the state has need, on the contrary, of a very stern education by the people.6

As a self-conceived “Marxist”, Jules Guesde did not believe in the demands he helped author and simply saw them as a form of bait to lure workers from the bourgeois Radicals. He believed in immediate revolution without any compromise. Guesde’s refusal to take seriously the demands for expansion of the democratic rights of workers led Marx to declare “I am not a Marxist”7 if the “revolutionary phrasemongering” Guesde was doing was Marxism.

Eleven years later, the German Social Democratic Party issued the Erfurt Program. It represents a key milestone in the development of the minimum-maximum program. It is considered the first fully Marxist program of German Social-Democracy. Before it was published though, Friedrich Engels wrote an in-depth critique8 of what he saw as the ghosts of Lasalleanism9 and “state socialism” within the program. The earlier draft called for the state to take control over areas like medicine, failed to call for the expansion of democratic institutions, and made a number minor theoretical errors. In the final draft, after Engels’ criticism, the demands for nationalization of medicine, dentistry, the bar, midwifery, and so on were transformed into demands that they become free. This is important because it opens the door for non-state solutions like worker or community-controlled healthcare. But the fact that the demand was initially for state ownership, that room for nationalization remained in the program, and that the demands were aimed at the state represented a creep forward of government socialism— “state socialism,” as Engels and other early Marxists called it. With the deaths of Marx and Engels, their influence could no longer stymie the transition of social democracy from revolutionary socialism to government socialism.

The minimum section of the Social Democratic program—comprised of demands for concessions from the state—degenerated from winnable reductions in state or capitalist power to winnable concessions for the “improvement of workers’ lives.” Instead of seeing the state as hostile terrain in the class war, it became a contestable field which the workers’ party could occupy and from which it could annex resources for the working class. Instead of looking at power sociologically, the social democrats imagined a linear formula where the power of the workers was measured by how much social surplus they got vs how much the capitalists got. While many “Orthodox Marxists” still held out hope for revolution, their practice was indistinguishable from that of the Revisionists. The road the social democrats trod was not to power, but rather into the belly of the powerful.

Like the Orthodox Marxists and the Marxist-Leninist parties that split from them, the Trotskyists of the 4th International saw the state as the locus of legitimate social power and a field which was to be contested rather than hostile terrain. Unlike the Orthodox Marxists and Marxist-Leninists, their successors do not choose minimum demands that are winnable under capitalism. Instead, they adopted a policy reminiscent of Jules Guesde’s “revolutionary phrasemongering”: the transitional program. Like the minimum program, the transitional program begins with demands which have organically emerged in the course of the workers’ struggle. It takes these demands and goes further, pushing workers to adopt slogans which call for concessions that are increasingly radical but sound reasonable from the perspective of workers.

But these slogans are never intended to be acted on. In fact, these transitional demands are chosen specifically because they’re impossible to realize within capitalism. Demands are chosen for their “educational” value rather than their chances of success. Trotsky puts it, “By means of this struggle, no matter what immediate practical successes may be, the workers will best come to understand the necessity of liquidating capitalist slavery.”10 For example: if workers and their unions are calling for a phased-in raise of the minimum wage, the Trotskyists will not only demand a higher wage but also that the raise be immediate, because they believe this demand can’t be enacted. After the increasingly-militant workers lose their fight for the transitional demand, the Trotskyists believe this will show them that the capitalist state and reforms can’t bring about the kinds of change needed for workers to realize their interests, which will push them towards socialism.

Another example in the original outline of the transitional method is the call for nationalization. Despite the fact that Trotsky is explicit that the nationalization of industries by the bourgeois state have nothing to do with socialism, he claims that adding empty slogans about workers’ control will make the demand revolutionary:

In precisely the same way, we demand the expropriation of the corporations holding monopolies on war industries, railroads, the most important sources of raw materials, etc.

The difference between these demands and the muddleheaded reformist slogan of “nationalization” lies in the following: (1) we reject indemnification; (2) we warn the masses against demagogues of the People’s Front who, giving lip service to nationalization, remain in reality agents of capital; (3) we call upon the masses to rely only upon their own revolutionary strength; (4) we link up the question of expropriation with that of seizure of power by the workers and farmers.

The necessity of advancing the slogan of expropriation in the course of daily agitation in partial form, and not only in our propaganda in its more comprehensive aspects, is dictated by the fact that different branches of industry are on different levels of development, occupy a different place in the life of society, and pass through different stages of the class struggle. Only a general revolutionary upsurge of the proletariat can place the complete expropriation of the bourgeoisie on the order of the day. The task of transitional demands is to prepare the proletariat to solve this problem.11

Trotsky goes on to argue that a key demand of the workers’ movement is the statization of banks, correctly ascertaining that the control of financial capital is essential for the economic planning of capitalism and that it would be good for the banks to become state assets if the working class were in command. The sleight of hand is that the transitional program demands the nationalization of banks now, even without a workers’ party in command, otherwise it would be a maximum demand, not a transitional demand.

The transitional program, as originally articulated by Trotsky, is not without its merits. One of its key planks is the call to create revolutionary workers’ militias out of the labor union struggle, while others include the opposition to imperialist wars. While the “transitional method” has been a resounding failure, it should be remembered that Trotsky and his contemporary allies were crucial members of the revolutionary working-class movement who must be learned from critically. The impulse to advance towards revolution in the face of the 3rd International’s backslide into reformism and alliances with liberals is the animating force behind why the transitional method was developed and that should be commended. But just as implicit in it are the very same deformations that led to the failures of the Marxist-Leninist movement; the transitional method adopts a schoolmaster’s view of the working class.

Not having the virtues of being lifelong communists in a period of revolutionary upheaval, contemporary Trotskyists only inherit the sins of their prophet. Take for instance Socialist Alternative in Seattle who used the slogan of 15 Now to grow their organization. But despite claiming they would fight for a ballot initiative regardless of what minimum wage law the city adopted, they abandoned the campaign after the city passed a lesser, gradual minimum wage increase. In an about-face worthy of any Stalinist, Socialist Alternative launched the disastrous campaign for Jess Spear12 to take a seat in the Washington State House of Representatives instead of keeping their promise. If the demands of the transitional program are enacted, the Trotskyists believe this will create a “crisis of leadership” in which the capitalist class will rebel against the state and allow their party to swoop in, backed by the militant working class and shepherd the workers towards socialism.

The transitional method was developed during a crest in revolutionary socialist organizing as a means to go beyond the reformist limitations of the minimum program. When Trotsky proposed it, there was every reason to believe a crisis of leadership could emerge and that in a short time period the working class might seize control. But time has shown that the method has failed to do anything other than co-opt revolutionary struggles and disillusion militants. It’s a cynical method that considers the working-class too stupid to realize that revolution is necessary without being led like sheep into the den of the wolves. When the Trotskyist parties do not degenerate into irrelevant sects, they liquidate into the bourgeois establishment, playing power-broker between the unions and grassroots campaigns they successfully co-opt and the liberals. In order to maintain their position, they act to police radical protests and contain them so they can be leveraged to increase their party’s power. The transitional method obscures all of these opportunistic turns by allowing militant rhetoric to substitute for revolutionary action. When questioned, Trotskyists will respond that we are not ‘in a revolutionary situation’ and conflate the improvement in their party’s position with the improvement of the position of the working class as a whole.

Socialist Alternative, in particular, has a long history of this behavior, including during the protests against President Trump’s travel ban, when they prematurely called the protest off while endangering militants. They co-opt tenant movements and push them to adopt the call for demands like rent control—which they know is not a possible reform on the municipal level in Washington State. They demand their militants refrain from joining red unions like the IWW and even from reading the newspapers of other parties. This is not by any means limited to Socialist Alternative or its affiliates in the so-called Committee for a Workers’ International. Trotskyist parties have been using the same sort of tactics since the 1930s. While these organizations have often made heroic contributions to the class struggle, winning concessions for workers and fighting racism in the auto industry, their methods undermine their success, showing little for their work in the long run.13 By setting themselves up as the leaders and schoolmasters of the working class, the purpose of the party transitions from advancing the struggle to advancing the careers of party functionaries.

 

The Right Honourable James Hacker opposite his faithful civil servant Sir Humphrey Appleby in “Party Games”, Yes Minister (1984)

Neoliberalism is State Capitalism

The old British television show Yes Minister illustrates the nature of the capitalist state. Every time Jim Hacker—a bumbling parliamentary minister with dreams of grandeur—sets out to create his legacy with some sweeping reform of the system, his aide Sir Humphrey Appleby is there to dissuade him, leveraging considerable bureaucratic inertia to neuter Hacker’s most determined attempts. In the show, Hacker and his staff share a particular set of jargon exemplified in their use of the word “courageous”: where a policy being “controversial” means Hacker could lose votes, a policy that is “courageous” would cost him the election. It is only by doing absolutely nothing of substance while both making the appearance of progress and keeping vested interests happy that Hacker is able to ascend to the high office of prime minister.

The capitalist state is sociologically and structurally aligned with the capitalist class, regardless of the beliefs or intentions of individuals working inside it. Not only do politicians, high-level bureaucrats, and other officials become educated and socialize in the same environments, go to the same golf courses, read the same newspapers, and share meals with the capitalist and managerial classes; their structural interests are in the maintenance of the overall system and preservation of the status-quo.

While it is true that leaders like Franklin Roosevelt, Margaret Thatcher, and others have successfully made dramatic changes to the functioning of the state and its role in society, they did so during periods of capitalist crisis. Roosevelt expanded the reach of the bourgeois state into private property, while Thatcher expanded the reach of private capitalists into public institutions. But, they share an essential unity. Both were seeking to adopt the state to a new underlying reality for the interests of preserving capitalism, rather than to make progress for its own sake, which is why the state and private-sector bureaucrats were able to go along with it. Of course, all bureaucrats have certain imperial ambitions about the domain of their own agency or office, but they are kept in check by their rivals in similar positions, much like feudal lords squabbling over land. Their careers, 401k’s, and lifestyles are inextricably linked to capitalism, and if they consciously work against the system they will cease to hold those jobs.

This kind of loyalty and institutional interest doesn’t vanish because the majority of people in the legislature claim to support socialism; instead, those legislators are forced to confront the reality of what’s “possible” to do in their offices. When politicians do try to create radical legislation which isn’t aligned with the interests of capitalism, either they are removed by force—like in the case of Chilean President Salvador Allende, who was ousted from power by a democidal military coup—or undermined by other arms of the government and society controlled by the capitalist class—as during the “socialist” government of Clement Attlee.

It’s not simply a matter of having better or more radical bureaucrats take control: the very foundations of the state in civil and common law are created of, by, and for the ruling class. It’s not just that radical bureaucrats would be sacked for trying to make socialist changes, (as they certainly would). In order for socialism or the rule of the working class to exist, their very jobs would need to be abolished. Every single agency needs to be radically restructured far beyond what is possible without the kind of power it takes an armed revolution to deploy. These bureaucracies are the product of the social division of labor and the estrangement of the collective power of humanity. They represent the administration of people, while socialism is the administration of things by the people.

To be sure, the rule of the working class requires a state and some level of institutionalized application of power. But this is not a state in the truest sense, as both Engels and Lenin pointed out. A workers’ state, as Lenin formulated it, is a “semi-state” whose goal is its own abolition.14 While a true state maintains a professionalized body of armed men to enforce class rule, a workers’ state is maintained by the armed working class, even if it may use some professionalized forces in the course of revolutionary struggle. Likewise, a workers’ state generalizes administration and the skills necessary to administer society as much as possible rather than condensing social power within a stratum of professional bureaucrats.

After WWII in Britain, the Labour Party came to power and dramatically expanded state control of industry. As many as 20% of British workers were employed by the state, particularly in key industries which represented the “commanding heights” of the economy: coal, banking, energy, rail, and eventually steel. Even against the Tory war hero Winston Churchill, the public voted in a landslide for Clement Attlee’s vision of British socialism:

a mixed economy developing toward socialism…. The doctrines of abundance, of full employment, and of social security require the transfer to public ownership of certain major economic forces and the planned control in the public interest of many other economic activities.15

While many of the Labourites had sincerely believed that those nationalizations were a step toward a planned economy, by 1947 even the furthest-left Labour ministers like Ernest Bevin dismissed planning in favor of “working things out practically” as their industries were turned into “public corporations” that operated identically to private firms— (except that they were responsible to the state rather than to investors).16 The only exception was healthcare, which was organized according to the “post office” model as a government department. The industries that were chosen for nationalization were not just key parts of the economy: they were sectors that were performing poorly and needed to be revitalized for the sake of the rest of the capitalist class. Once the Labour Party took power and began administering capitalist society, they became aligned with the perpetuation of that society. They came to power with a vision of using the state to promote the interests of the nation as a whole, and as a nation whose society was capitalist, that necessarily meant the interests of capital. Because they had to rely on state bureaucrats and capitalist methods of running the economy, economic “realities” like shortages due to the war and decolonization forced the government to operate “pragmatically” rather than risk social upheaval and a coup.

For comparison, consider the “dirigiste” policies of Charles de Gaulle in France. The “socialist” Attlee government was less able than the conservative de Gaulle government to nationalize and plan the economy because the latter deployed these measures against the development of socialism. Nationalization was done in the name of the nation and to the benefit of the capitalist class, which found that displacing parasitic monopolists in the banking, energy, and heavy industrial sectors greatly benefitted their bottom lines. Ultimately, Attlee’s nationalizations put him in the company of those of Bismarck, de Gaulle, Roosevelt, Mussolini, Park, and Disraeli—right-wing strongmen all.

Dramatic expansions of the public sector are far more correlated with the far right and nationalist center than they are with the left in a historical analysis. Significantly in the French case, when de Gaulle created his “dirigist” planned economy, there was no threat waiting in the wings of radical factions attempting to adopt the “co-operative” principle outlined by James Connolly:

state ownership and control is not necessarily Socialism – if it were, then the Army, the Navy, the Police, the Judges, the Gaolers, the Informers, and the Hangmen, all would all be Socialist functionaries, as they are State officials – but the ownership by the State of all the land and materials for labour, combined with the co-operative control by the workers of such land and materials, would be Socialism.17

Schemes of state and municipal ownership, if unaccompanied by this co-operative principle, are but schemes for the perfection of the mechanism of capitalist government-schemes to make the capitalist regime respectable and efficient for the purposes of the capitalist; in the second place they represent the class-conscious instinct of the businessman who feels that capitalist should not prey upon capitalist, while all may unite to prey upon the workers. The chief immediate sufferers from private ownership of railways, canals, and telephones are the middle-class shop-keeping element, and their resentment at the tariffs imposed is but the capitalist political expression of the old adage that “dog should not eat dog.”

By entering the capitalist state and relying on its institutions, such as the cops, the Labour government had already abandoned that principle, unbeknownst either to them or to their enemies.

One might be especially shocked to see post-coup Chile after the installation of Augusto Pinochet mirroring Labour’s expansion of the state sector. The coup to overthrow Allende had less to do with his policies of nationalization, although threatening American corporate assets gave the CIA impetus to back it, than it did with the threat posed by the socialist militias on the one hand, and the cybernetic economic planning apparatus the central government was organizing on the other. Pinochet never reversed the nationalization of copper, despite taking advice from the infamous “Chicago Boys” who introduced neoliberal policies to Latin America, and his regime maintained a highly interventionist state. Pinochet did allow his cronies and allies to rake in economic rents by “privatizing” the provision of many public services, but he also dramatically increased the level of central state control over them. Even when Pinochet privatized industries like steel, these industries were handed to loyalists and acted as an extension of the state, following central direction more closely than when they were “publicly-owned.” Pinochet may have been brought to power in part by those capitalists resentful of Allende’s seizure of their property, but his purpose was to prevent a transition to a socialist society, not to correct the balance sheet of public vs private ownership.

Just as the expansion of the public sector can benefit the capitalist class as a whole, the privatization of sections of the state can benefit the state as an institution. Removing control of transportation from local assemblies in Chile allowed the central government to more intensely regulate and shape transportation policy, just as the contemporary push for charter schools allows state bureaucrats to set curricula according to their real priorities; impose mechanisms like standardized testing in conjunction with capitalists; avoid the limited and flawed democratic input of local school boards; and get rid of unions altogether. In the case of the United States allowing religious charter schools, the state in regions controlled by Christian Dominionists are able to realize the true policy goals in spite of the secular democratic rights. Charter schools are just as much an extension of the state as public schools, despite the change in legal property form.

Whether something is part of the state is not determined by whether property is public or private. In a feudal monarchy, for instance, the state is the privately held property of the sovereign, while in a republic or a constitutional monarchy it’s allegedly owned by the whole people. Because they’re controlled by private interests, the curricula will mirror the ideologies those interests seek to promote. Likewise, privatizing prisons—in addition to creating a layer of parasitic rentiers siphoning off public money—makes those prisons no less a part of the state than if they were publicly-owned. Public prisons—just like private prisons—employ slave labor, strictly regulate the lives of inmates, and create institutional pressure to expand incarceration rates. While private prisons create contracts which allow them financial indemnities if the state fails to bring them up to sufficient capacity, public prisons lobby to increase incarceration through prison guard “unions” and informal pressures to justify padded budgets.

Does it matter if the secret police surveil you through publicly-owned means or through a privately-owned social media company? Does it make a difference to the working class if the occupation of Afghanistan is run more by the publicly-owned military or by mercenaries like Blackwater? Either way, war crimes are committed, contractors are made rich, and the American empire expands. By keeping the military a public institution, defense contractors can more easily siphon off government pork; but if that were to change, then the legal property form the military takes would change. The only difference between state and private institutions is which sections of the ruling class get to benefit from the institutional reproduction of capitalism.

What Kind of Demands?

Instead of building capacity to lobby the existing power of the state, socialists need to build their own power. No matter how many people we mobilize for protests, how well-crafted our transitional demands are, or how progressive our political candidates are, we are pleading with the mercenaries of the capitalist class to enforce our will.

This does not mean that there are no reforms that are worth demanding. It may sometimes be tactically viable to reduce the power of the capitalists using the regulatory force of the state: fining capitalists for dumping toxic waste, for emitting greenhouse gasses, banning discriminatory lending or renting practices. Reducing the freedom of capital to dominate our world is just as important as the overall reduction of the ability of the state to do so. Especially important are demands for the reduction of the powers of the state: the demilitarization of police, the abolition of regressive taxes, ending de facto segregation, respect for indigenous sovereignty, etc.

However, while demands on the state to constrain the rapaciousness of capitalism and check its own power are necessary and important, it is far more necessary and important to build our own power to force capitalists to capitulate without relying on the state. Getting the United States to end its massive financial subsidies to Israel for its apartheid-style occupation of Palestine would be good, but much better would be unions effectively blocking the shipment of goods to and from Israel—like the Longshoremen did on the West Coast against the South African apartheid regime. Instead of using the city government to zone in affordable housing, organizing mass rent strikes and using direct action to drive out developers would more effectively grow our power. When socialists try to use municipalities to accomplish these tasks, they only end up allowing their leadership to be co-opted: in the case of the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, election of their leader Chokwe Lumumba to mayor of Jackson, MI led not to the “most radical [city] on the planet,” but his ‘revolutionary politics’ devolving into a “tough on crime” stance and publicly supporting the police through their civilian murders under his watch. Even if he were to improve the lives of Jacksonians—something many liberal and conservative politicians can claim they’ve done—Lumumba is complicit in the occupation of working-class communities by the mercenaries of the capitalist class.

Often cited as key “socialist victories” are public schools and public healthcare, but neither of these were created by socialists to embolden the working class. They were invented by right-wing nationalists such as Otto von Bismarck for the expressed purpose of undermining the autonomous power of the working class, ameliorating social dissent, and creating loyalty to the state from the general public. Even in countries where “progressives” pushed forward public education, it was based on the Prussian model and appealed to nationalist sentiment. To be sure, these institutions are not wholly reactionary: they provide valuable and essential services for social reproduction. In all societies which have organized social production, there is a need for institutionalized education and healthcare. Likewise, incarceration and social punishment are essential for the reproduction of class societies.

Crude analogies to prisons are not effective at teasing out what reactionary roles are played by welfare state institutions like public education and public healthcare. Unlike prisons, whose primary purpose is the disciplining of members of society into obedience to the class system, education’s primary purpose is the technical reproduction of society and therefore its class character is secondary. Aristotle was taught to the children of Greek aristocrats, feudal lords, and the capitalists all the same, but literacy and arithmetic have become necessary for a much wider mass of people than in previous modes of production. As Nikolai Bukharin said in The ABC’s of Communism:

the higher and middle schools teach the children of the capitalists all the data that are requisite for the maintenance of bourgeois society and the whole system of capitalist exploitation. If any of the children of the workers, happening to be exceptionally gifted, should find their way into the higher schools, in the great majority of instances the bourgeois scholastic apparatus will serve as a means of detaching them from their own class kin, and will inoculate them with bourgeois ideology, so that in the long run the genius of these scions of the working class will be turned to account for the oppression of the workers.18

Yet public education also serves the needs of the ruling class beyond the development of the technical capacity of society by playing an integral role in socializing workers for capitalist society. The schools, particularly in the social sciences, perform their secondary task by perpetuating the foundational myths of the American civic cult and are designed to make workers prepared for the “real” (capitalist) world. As Bukharin further argued:

In the elementary schools of the capitalist régime, instruction is given in accordance with a definite programme perfectly adapted for the breaking-in of the pupils to the capitalist system. All the textbooks are written in an appropriate spirit. The whole of bourgeois literature subserves the same end, for it is written by persons who look upon the bourgeois social order as natural, perdurable, and the best of all possible régimes. In this way the scholars are imperceptibly stuffed with bourgeois ideology; they are infected with enthusiasm for all bourgeois virtues; they are inspired with esteem for wealth, renown, titles and order; they aspire to get on in the world, they long for personal comfort, and so on. The work of bourgeois educationists is completed by the servants of the church with their religious instruction.19

This does not mean that compulsory free education is a bad thing—far from it—but it is important to consider the implications of who has power in any proposed education system. By many accounts, Catholic education is of a far superior caliber than the public education of many nations—for example, in the US where over 19% of working-age adults cannot even read a newspaper. Does this mean we should demand the schools of our children be transferred over to the Catholics? If we take the line that our demands should be for the most possible benefit for workers, it would seem so. A liberal secularist or a government socialist could object that public ownership of education makes for a more neutral curriculum than church ownership. However, as anyone who has been through a US History course in a public school knows, this is not true.

Just because state management of education is no better than church education does not mean socialists should support privatization or “charter schools”: privatizing the state does not change the character of state institutions. Instead, our demands should be for transforming schools into institutions run by teachers and staff, with state involvement limited to enforcing basic standards of quality. While the state cannot be trusted to develop curricula—look at the disaster that is Common Core—it can be used to prevent reactionary groups like creationists from poisoning impressionable minds with outright falsehoods. Workers’ parties can make an important difference in how these standards are determined; unless we struggle over certification requirements, the forces of reaction can shape them to their liking. Funding for many schools without a local tax base may require state subsidies, but alternatives like bussing or combining districts so local taxes are more evenly distributed are preferable.

More important than any demand on the state is for socialists to create their own independent schools. That does not mean abandoning existing public schools or sitting idly by while cuts are made to teachers’ salaries, just that we should push for them to be reorganized on the models we create independent of the state. Creating socialist homeschool networks, Montessori schools, and similar institutions is vital if we want to give the next generation of the working class a fighting chance to understand and remake this world. Coordinating these efforts is crucial: parent-educators, state-certified socialist teachers, and socialist theoreticians all have much to teach one another and require a unified effort to effectively do so. A serious and coordinated push for working class education that develops cadres of skilled proletarian educators prepares the type of infrastructure and knowledge needed for education in socialism. There may be differences between how the proletariat—now as a revolutionary class, later as the citizens of a socialist commonwealth—need to be educated, but the basic skills of radical pedagogy remain the same.

Like state education, state-run healthcare is a demand uncritically promoted by government socialists. But as Sophia Burns argues in her essay “The Socialist Case Against Medicare For All”, the state often plays a reactionary role in healthcare. The current medical industry promotes an ideology of health that is based around finding the most cost-effective and easiest treatments for any given ailment. Instead of looking at community-driven solutions, a mixture of personal responsibility and deference to professionals is cultivated. Instead of preventative solutions that focus on developing wellness both psychological and physical, health is the absence of diseases that might impede one’s ability to work. And—where a profit can be made— “health experts” promote an idea of fitness which is intended to police those who do not fit into conventional beauty standards: for example, research shows that a higher than recommended Body Mass Index is correlated with health, despite obesity being correlated with negative health outcomes. The medical industry has little interest in parsing health from patriarchy, capitalism, and racism. This does not mean that medications are bad or “big pharma” is the problem—many medications, particularly psychiatric medications, are lifesaving. But insurance companies tend to favor short-term solutions like cognitive-behavioral therapy or medicating away symptoms when relatively costly options like long-term therapies and environmental adjustments would likely prove more effective. This medical ideology is present in both public healthcare systems like the UK’s National Health Service, and private healthcare systems like those in the US.

Universal healthcare under existing laws would mean involuntary medical treatment for elders and the mentally ill gets dramatically expanded. It was not that long ago that hundreds of thousands of people were confined to psychiatric hospitals, and many of them were victims of serious medical abuse. It is not scaremongering or making a slippery slope argument that this could come back: involuntary treatment already exists for the autistic children of parents who can afford “Applied Behavioral Analysis” and for millions of elders whose insurance pays for their confinement. Many patients with dementia are locked in rooms and force-fed without any access to personal effects which might allow them to live a life with more dignity. Deinstitutionalization is frequently decried in publications like the Public Broadcasting Service’s Frontline where the argument goes that it is untreated mental illness that is the source of extreme poverty and victimization by police; but in reality it’s poverty and capitalism that force mentally ill people into the street, not a lack of public control of their bodies.

This control and abuse aren’t limited to the mentally ill and elderly. In Sweden—that bastion of “socialist” welfare—transgender people faced compulsory sterilization until 2013 . Likewise, in the UK, the NHS is alleged to treat transgender patients as “second class citizens”. This isn’t some aberration: public healthcare is based on the same capitalist, racist, homophobic, and transphobic structures as private healthcare. It was the United States Public Health Service, not private healthcare firms, which conducted the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment. Why should we trust the US government, whose agencies have been documented experimenting on its own citizens multiple times and violating its own Constitution, to administer our health? Is the American state of Donald Trump so much more enlightened and beneficent than that of the past? Any national health service in the USA will serve the interests of capitalism and empire, not those of the working class and oppressed people. Medicare for All may not expand the reach of the US government directly into hospitals, but is there any reason to believe that private corporations are any more ethical? Is having the government pay for your care at a monopolistic Catholic hospital chain which refuses to perform abortions and actively discriminates against transgender and gay people really something socialists should strive for? And would creating a true NHS style system in America really be advisable when groups like Evangelical Dominionists, Church of Latter Day Saints, and the Roman Catholic Church have enormous social influence and will have a say in public policy through conservative politicians?

Instead of focusing on expanding an institution designed to produce fit workers and meet the needs of capitalism, socialists must create alternative healthcare institutions. Creating worker-owned mutual insurance that has its policies consciously shaped by principles like reproductive justice, antiracism, and patient autonomy is a necessary task of our movement. However, the height of our immediate ambition should not be limited to mutual insurance: we should strive to set up free clinics, therapy groups, wellness clubs, and other infrastructure that is organized to both meet the needs of workers and empower them. Socialism isn’t just winning more quantitative gain or social surplus—it’s the working class self-consciously improving society in a qualitative way.

Moreover, whether or not universal healthcare passes is not something socialists will have any meaningful impact on. Government socialists have no federal representatives, author no legislation, and are merely one “interest group” that left-wing Democrats allow. Even if Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez wins the general election, her lone vote will have little effect on government policy. The Democrats will do what is necessary for their party to effectively serve the section of the capitalist class that they represent.

It’s possible that in the course of the class struggle struggle, the Democrats will pass Medicare for All or even a nationalized health system—and either one could mean that the accomplishments of socialists in creating mutual insurance or providing healthcare would evaporate. But that does not mean that building them is for nothing: creating worker-run insurance and clinics would build up any necessary administrative and technical skills among socialist militants. It would also have made a serious difference in the lives of many workers and served as a proof-in-concept of a different model of healthcare for revolutionaries to look to besides the one that predominates under capitalism. Not only that, but it would serve as a stark example for workers that the state’s interests are inherently opposed to the freedom and needs of the working class. Were the Socialist movement to have built alternative institutions, creating an American NHS would mean the state would be taking away care, not expanding it.

Some socialists might object to opposing Medicare for All or even Obamacare on the basis that these programs have saved and would save lives. As things stand, socialists have no influence on what the government does: Obamacare was created with zero input from socialists and it was in the interests of capitalism to establish it. A balloon in insurance prices was creating economic instability and the capitalist class had to address it. That it saved many lives—the author’s included—is a happy side effect, not the real aim of the policy. Were a socialist movement opposed to Obamacare or Medicare for All to have the power to stop it, that same movement would have the power to create a much more humane and comprehensive alternative. The choice isn’t to support public healthcare or support private healthcare—and even if it were, calling on socialists to build alternatives in no way undermines the ability of the capitalist class to solve the contradictions of its economy with public healthcare.

Magnetic Program

So, if revolutionary socialists shouldn’t make demands for the expansion of the state like Medicare for All and expanded public schools, then what should our demands look like? What kind of program should we use? In the early socialist movement the minimum-maximum program—which began as a method of articulating the aims of revolutionary workers—left too much room for government socialists to promote their anti-class-independence lines within the workers’ parties and thereby facilitated their degeneration into reformism. The program allowed those who had already capitulated in deed to remain revolutionaries in word for a time, thus allowing them to mislead the militant sections of the working class into continuing to support them in the name of unity. Instead, a new type of program must be developed that doesn’t allow for government socialism to be hidden inside.

The most important part of a revolutionary program is that it does not include any demands which constitute a positive relationship with government power. Instead, demands of the state should be purely negative in relationship to either it or towards capitalism’s control of the working class. This is the negative—or destructive—program. Demands of the negative program would include regulations like environmental or workplace safety protections, freedom of the press, lower taxes on the working class, and equal pay between the sexes and races. State regulations are not acceptable as demands—only as concessions. Having the state hold a corporation accountable for environmental degradation does not build our power—only building working-class institutions does that— but it does shift the resources of the state towards ends that are not harmful towards our movement. By limiting the negative program to a curtailing of state and capitalist power, there is no room for government socialist solutions like nationalization or state provision to hide.

The tasks of the working class that lie beyond the state also need clear articulation. To supplement the negative program, there is the positive program. The positive program is defined by the constructive aspects of the socialist movement; it lays out what the workers’ movement seeks to build and what it needs independent of the state. This program makes no demands of the state because the institutions it seeks to build are only valuable when as they’re independent from the state—run by and for the working class. Planks of the positive program would include the organization of red unions, mutual insurance, free clinics, firearm education for workers, free childcare, tenants unions, worker-managed cooperatives, community self-defense organizations, new forms of education, and other programs and institutions that emerge organically from the struggle of the working class. The positive program should include both minimum aims and the maximum aims of socialism: our minimum aims are things we can build right now while our maximum aims are the things we need socialism to organize. By linking the two together, it emphasizes the continuity between revolutionary action in the near term and the ultimate aim of the establishment of working class rule in society. The kinds of institutions envisioned by the positive program are collective and participatory-democratic in nature, and are therefore necessary for revolutionary socialist “base-building”.

All movements that seek to gain institutional power base-build, including the Democratic Party: it uses grassroots fights and low level mutual aid to build political machines through progressive churches, yellow labor unions, and reformist socialist groups like the Democratic Socialists of America. The aim of the extended Democratic Party cadre which run these organizations is to cultivate an electorate which can be mobilized to advance the interests both of sections of the Democratic Party and of the Party as a whole. While some forms of base-building experimented with by the government socialists—which includes all existing electoral Socialist parties—and the Democratic Party do promote a feeling of empowerment, those that tend to stick all require passive participation by the majority of those involved rather than active participation: canvassing operations, yellow unions, and electoral organizations.

Conversely, revolutionary socialist base-building requires the active and collective participation of as many involved as possible. Revolutionary socialist base-building strives towards the end of the division of labor while recognizing that it exists and works to develop leadership among all of the oppressed and exploited in society. These institutions aren’t so outlandish or inconceivable as some government socialists would have you believe: the working class built them in the 19th and 20th centuries under much worse conditions than we face today. The false concern by some “socialists” about the ability of workers to fund these kinds of institutions is undermined by their lauding the Sanders campaign for raising so many small donations and promoting hugely expensive electoral projects as viable. If political campaigns in conditions of a weakened socialist movement are able to be funded by small donations, why can’t independent institutions? And for that matter, if unions can be self-funded with dues, why couldn’t mutual insurance or a housing cooperative? The failure of government socialists to imagine creating these kinds of institutions is a result of their lack of faith in the very working class they believe could somehow run society. How do they expect the working class to rule society without training to do so? The truth is, of course, they don’t: they think that they should run society on behalf of the workers.

Like a magnet, a revolutionary program has two poles: positive and negative. The positive pole will bind together the critical mass of self-conscious workers needed to overthrow the existing order. Inversely and jointly, the negative pole repels reformism and opportunistic alliances. By putting this magnetic program it into practice, a workers party will be able to generate the power necessary to put the engine of production into the hands of our class.

The magnetic program is not necessarily abstentionist or incompatible with running candidates. If a candidate stood on a platform of obstructionism and a reduction of state power, while also acting as a “tribune of the people” in the halls of government, they would be a candidate who revolutionary socialists might support. The slogan of revolutionary socialists in parliaments and Congress is “Not One Penny, Not One Life” for capitalist wars and the preservation of the bourgeois order. The work of revolutionary socialist parliamentarians is to grind the functioning of the state to a halt and make room for workers’ institutions to fill in the emerging gaps. Whether or not it makes sense to invest time and energy into running candidates in favor of other forms of organizing is a tactical problem and not a strategic one. It may be that a group using the magnetic strategy never sees a need to contest an election as it fights in the class war, or it might be the case that it contests every election it can with the aim of liquidating municipal and regional governments into worker-controlled institutions. But either way, the relationship between the organization and the state remains the same.

This framework of organizing is not “anti-welfare.” It is against policies like “means testing” and the existence of expansive state bureaucracies for the doling out of the working class’s own surplus product. Even if proposed welfare doesn’t include means testing, though, creating government services that are free at the point of use requires an expansion of the state sector funded by the surplus product of the working class. While this may be controversial, rather than defend the welfare state as a whole, revolutionary socialists should fully embrace the calls for a universal and unconditional income. In isolation, a Universal Basic Income is not revolutionary—it does nothing to elevate workers out of the conditions that they’re in. But coupled with the creation of working-class institutions—which a UBI would free many workers up to staff—a UBI could serve as a real “social wage” returned to the class in exchange for the invisible labor and unwaged labor done by all people to reproduce capitalism. Programs which are free at the point of use are important, but they should be created of, by, and for the working class—not the state. Now, a UBI which is solely based on citizenship would certainly create welfare chauvinism not unlike what exists in Europe today around public services, so any proposed UBI from revolutionary socialists would have to include undocumented workers. Our goal is not to create a caste system and a Roman-style proletariat of exploiters, but to expand the capacity of the working class to fight the class war.

Government socialism is a dead end that will only end up co-opting those parts of the socialist movement that embrace it. The state isn’t neutral and its interests are inherently opposed to ours if we want to create a new society. If Marxists are to organize in a revolutionary socialist way, we need to embrace a negative relationship with the state while organizing a revolutionary base. Many who call themselves Leninists, Marxists, democratic socialists, or even anarchists might balk at the proposals laid out here, but opportunism knows no distinction between tendency. The magnetic program is no panacea; it is merely one possible rubric for revolutionary socialists to apply to their organizing for the overthrow of the capitalist system and the establishment of the rule of the working class. But if we allow our resolve to be weakened and make false unity with the government socialists as did classical social democracy, history will repeat itself as farce. Instead, through principled struggle we can build the Co-operative Commonwealth together.