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ORGANIZATIONS OF T~E UNEMPLOYED

THE MASSES AND THE VANGUARD

COMMUNIST PRODUCTION ANDDISTRIBUTION

MARXISM AND THE PRESENT TASK OFTHE PROLETARIAN CLASS STRUGGLE

SOUT~ERN NEGROES

soox REVIEWS

LIVING MARXISM=

Vol. IV. No. 4AUGUST 1938AnnuaJ Subscription '1.50 Addre •• :

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Thi. magazine, published by the Group. of Council Communiste, consciously oppoaea allforml of .ectariani.m. The sectarian eonfuaes the interest of hi. group, whether it la aparty or a union, with the interest of thc el..... It is our purpose to discover the actualproletarlan tendeneies In their backward organizationaJ and theoretical form.; to effect adiseuaaîon of them beyond the boundarfea of their organlzationl and the eurrent dogmaticI;to facilitate thair fusion into unified aetion; and thu. to help tbem achieve real significanee.

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ORGANIZATIONS OF TJ-IEUNEMPLOYEDThe tremendous growth of unemployment in the depression of 1929

created a relief problem which could not be met by the existing local and staterelief institutions. However, it was generally believed that the depressionwould be of short duration, and for a long time no serious attempt was madeto adapt the relief policy to the needs of the situation. The Communitieswe re expected to solve their local problems by an extension of their charitywork. As late as 1931 President Hoover* was of the opinion that

"the maintenance of a spirit of mutual self-help through voluntarygiving is of infinite importance to the future of America... No gov-ernmental action, no economie doctrine, no economie plan or projectcan replace that God-imposed responsibility of the individual man orwoman to their neighbors."

However, in less than another year, the "God-imposed responsibility" wasrecognized as impotent. State and local relief funds were exhausted, and theFederal government was forced to participate in the welfare work withReconstruction Finance Corporation loans to the states and communities.

This change of policy was forced upon the "rugged individualists." Bythe end of 1932 the politicians and economists were increasingly prone to ex-press fearful prophecies to the effect th at if a satisfactory solution of the un-ernployment question were not found soon, great sociologie convulsions wouldbe unavoidable. The politico-social crisis could be overcome only by a sharpturn in social policy and conscious intrusions into the economie mechanism.

The radicalizing of the employed as well as of the jobless masses wasmaking great progress : hunger marches, spontaneous unemployment demon-·strations of all sorts, and even plunderings, became increasingly frequent.Unemployed organizations came into being or were formed by existingpolitical organizations. The unrest of the unemployed became a matter ofgreat concern, since it functioned in an atrnosphere of general uncertainty andsocial tension. In and of itself the unemployed movement was too weak to

·Address on Unemployment Relief. Oct. 18, 1931.97

pass the bounds in which it could be held do.wn with .t~e usual instrumen~al-ities, but in conjunction with the state of mind prevailing throughout societyunder she impact of the crisis, it formed the seat of a general fermentationwhich at times promised to assume a revolutionary character.

Charity serves practical functions. I t masks the cruel social relations,and it helps to clean the streets of a portion of the "human scum.' However,it becomes rather a bad joke in times of depression, when millions of "ableworkmen" are forced to look for help. The transformation from charity tounemployment relief becomes unavoidable. But this transfo~mation will bepostponed as long as possible. Only wh en enough .pressure IS exer~ed fr?mbelow, wiU the necessary legislative steps be taken, smce any change In pohcyis possible only by friction and struggle. The initial move for a change hasalways been compelled by the masses, or by the desire and needs of the"authorities" to prevent mass action. However, after this initial move ismade, it brings in its wake additional reforms, whic.h o~ten seem to have noconneetion any longer with the social pressure which impelled them. Theillusion is thus created that the rulers of society have the choice between theone or the other policy, and th at the influencing of the ~ulers,. th at is, parlia-mentary activity, might be sufficient to effect changes In pohcy favorable. tothe masses. In reality, however, without the pressure of the masses, nothingof any importance has ever been given to them. To feed the unemployed, thenecessary funds have to be created either by taxation or by inflationarymeasures, both of which involve losses for other social groups. The pressureof the unemployed for relief involves a struggle among the classes as to whois going to pay the bill- This struggle forces additional m~asl!r.es to com-promise situations, or to defeat one or the other .group, and In tfll.Sway, outof a simple mass demand for unemployment rehef, there may anse a wholeseries of political changes which, on the surf ace seem to have nothing to dowith the action of the masses, but which can be explained only by that verysame action. Of course, aU other social and economie problems also playtheir part; nevertheless, mass pressure is most important. To be sure, suchchanges can be undertaken only within the framework of the present ex-ploitation conditions, but within these boundaries a wide range of possibilitiesexists. The workers may be sure that the much hailed "N ew Deal inWelfare" did not result from the wisdom and humanity of certain politicians.These most-beloved "virtues" were rather the result of the unrest of thebroad masses, and this unrest forced a new policy, together with new poli-ticians, onto the social scene.

The unemployed organizations like to view these accomplishments asres,ults of their own activities, and, in turn, these new accomplishments arepointed out as incentives for further struggles, for still better things to come.Success depends, of course, upon organization; without organization nothingwill ever be accomplished, but th is widely shared opinion, however, still Ieavesunanswered the question as to what kind of organization. The answersgiven are really simple ; each organization maintains that its particular educa-tion, specific form of organization, and exclusive emancipation program willdo the trick. And it could not be otherwise; competing establishments wilInot admit that the commodities of the next enterprise are also worth whilebuying. The struggle for existence involves the struggle al'flinst competitors-98

To.la~ent against such "narro~mindedness" means only to lament againstcapitalism ; an? !he struggl~ ~galnst the latter already implies the struggleagainst the existmg competJtJve labor organizations.

The question as to what kind of education and organization will servethe needs of the workers becomes still more complicated when we rememberth at .no organization despite their assurances to the contrary, really presents aconslste.nt structure or program. Although these organizations exert moreor less influence upon the workers and society at large, they are themselves in-fluenced even more by social life and changes therein. This fact is reflectedin their p~litical shifts, designed to maintain and serve the organization. Withthe es~abl.lshm~ntof the custom of collective bargaining, for example, even anorgaruzanon like the IWW was forced to break: with weIl established tradi-tions in order to benefit by the boom in unionism, of which it was in direneed and to resort, at least to a certain extent to the much hated contract-makin~ with. the employers. FundamentaIly,' to quote a second example,th ere ISno dJfrerence between Lundeberg's present leaning on the much hatedstr!ke-b~eaki.ng A. F ..of L. to sav~ the organization from being crushed byBndges. stnke-breaking CIO-UnlOn, and, say, the changes of policy withinthe Third International since Hitler's advent to power or the "ineen-sistencies" of the Anarchists in Spain in relation to ~he state, or thecountless "betrayals" of the "Marxist organizations" all over the world. Theonly ?ifference is one of magnitude, which then determines the practicalmeamngs the changes assume. In all cases the "inconsistencies" are aimed atkeeping organizations alive, or to force their growth by adapting their policiesto the needs or possibilities of the moment. To the question then of whatkind of organization is essential to the struggle of the workers no absoluteanswer can be offered; the answering will be made, not by "organizations",but by particular groups within the organizations, and in different ways atdifferent times.

The cry for organization as such is an empty slogan, for it has not onebut a thousand meanings. So far all organizational activity has been bynecessity of a self-seeking character. Organization did not serve the workers ;the workers were served only insofar as serving them helped the organization.Small opportunities were given to unemployed organizations, yet even in thisfield, .bec~use o~ their subo~dination to the political parties, the unemployedorg.amzatlOns did not function so much to serve the jobless, but sought toenhst the latter with the purpose of strenghtening the positions of the:'mother-parties". Capitalism however, itself a marvelous organizer of massesIS not. afraid of organizations as such, it is concerned only with real activities,orgamzed or unorganized, which interfere with its own well-being. Havingmade the statement th at the changes in welfare policies were mainly theresult of ~ass pressur~, and .this especially on the part of the unemployed, weare now Impell~d to. mvestJgate what role the unemployed organizations~ctually played in this process, what specific form of organization or policy,If any, led to success, and what conclusions may be drawn for the fut ure un-employed activities.

Besides the varied self-help organizations'" springing up in the years1930-32, there also came into being during the same period a series of un-·Compare: What Can The Unemployed Do? - Living Marxism, No. 2; pp.59-61, and No. 3; pp. 85-92.

99

employed organizations demanding adequate relief. Some of these organ-izations were engaged in both self-help activities and organized attempts toget relief from the authorities, as for example, the Seattle UnemployedOitizens League, which by 1931 claimed to have 5,000 members. The collapseof self-help schemes transformed th is organization, as well as others, into un-employed circles interested exclusively in obtaining relief. The organizationsarose out of individual connections of wor kers at relief stations and laborforums, or we re formed by church communities, ward healers, or individualswith an urge to help the poor. Some organizations succeeded for longer orshorter periods in attracting considerable numbers of workers, others remaineddiscussion clubs; but none of them asserted any significant influence upon therelief situation, and most of them had ceased to exist even before the NewDeal had made it difficult to organize the unemployed on relief issues.

With the exception of the Unemployed Unions of the IWW, whichwere formed in 1932, a11 unemployed organizations demanded bet ter relief,work relief, and a more efficient welfare system. Some of them came outwith demands for social legislation, and especially unemployed insurance. Thequestion of relief funds engaged other organizations in discussions of taxproblems. The usu al increases in "sales tax" were denounced as mediums forlowering the life standards of the masses, and a tax on the rich was requestedmstead- However, in this field, the voice of the unemployed was totallyignored.

Since 1932 the political labor parties engaged in the formation of un-employed organizations. In the first year of their existence the UnemployedCouncils (UC) of the Communist Party (CP) were without doubt the mostaggressive and effective organizations. Those groups organized with the kelpof the Socialist Party (SP), and best known as Workers Committees onUnemployment (WC) were the more "respectable" of the two main un-employed organizations. The latter, working in close conneetion with liberalwelfare organizations and various church denominations, were more interestedin fostering social legislation, using the unemployed organizations to demon-strate impressively the necessities of reforms. For th is reason there was a com-pesitive struggle between W. c.'s and U. C. 's, and th is struggle at timesforced the first to engage in unwanted radical actions- The U. C. we re thedominating organization in some cities, and the W. C. in other cities. Smallerorganizations continued to operate in their shade. There was nothingremarkably different about these independent organizations. Save for possibleexceptions unknown to us it may be said th at they were rather more conserva-tive and less inelined to engage in struggles for relief.

The C. P. - dominated U. C. we re organized in branches, districts,counties, state and national organizations. Special importance was laid uponthe needs of the single man, fighting on breadlines and in shelters for their ex-istence. This activity brought to the U. C. more aggressive elements andgave it the character of a proletarian organization, despite its professional but,whenever possjble, hidden petty-bourgeois leadership. The intensivepropaganda work carried on by the U. C. with the help of party funds, andespecially their struggles against evictions, which were supported by manyunorganized workers and also by these belonging to other organizations, gavethe U. C. the character of an organization of direct actionists. Conflicts with100

the police in eviction struggles, hunger marches, and demonstrations made outof the U. C. the most popular organization, although its numbers were farless than those of the W. C. However{ the political domination by the C. P.devaluated to a large extent the work of the U. C. The actions were not un-der~~ken to serve mainly the needs of the jobless, but to foster the generalpolicies of the C. P., and any conflict between the needs of the workers andthe political desire of the C. P. was decided in favor of the latter. This at-titude was also common to the other organizations, but not in such a con-sistent, single-minded fashion. There was never the slightest hesitation onthe part of the C. P. to split or destroy any organization, including their ownto eliminate or hamper any kind of activity out Of harmony with the part;needs. But as long as th ere was no contradiction between the aims of theparty and the needs of the U. C., most of the credit for organized unemploy-ment has to go to the U. C. The struggle of the U. C. against evictions wasconnected with attempts to force the lowering of rents with renter's strikeswhich, however, largely remained empty threats- In its election platform of1932 the C. P. * had already incorporated the demand for unemploymentinsurance. In distinction to later requests, this early program contained theillusory demand "th at the insurance and relief system be administered by theworkers themselves." The F ede r a I Government was supposed to

"institute a system of insurance, on the basis of full wages, tor all un-employed and part-time workers, the necessary funds to be paid en-tirely by the employers and the State and to be raised by the allocationof aIl war funds, a capital levy, increased taxes upon the rich, etc."

M uch stress was laid upon hunger marches to state capitals and toWashington. The participation of reliefers in these marches was minimal.These attempts could be considered only as more or less successful publicitystunts, which lost their value in repetition.

The socialist-controlled W. C. called and participated to some extent inhunger marches, demonstrations, or act ion at the relief stations. Thepolitical control of the W. C. by the S. P. was less rigid than that exertedby the C. P. over the U. C., but not because of the greater wis dom of theS. P. leaders, but because the S. P. was not especially fond of being identifiedwith radical activities. Being an extremely capitalistic minded organization,the S. P. advocates Socialism in the same manner as the Church preaches thegoodness in man. It is also more interested in the salvation of the soul thanin the welfare of the body. In short, it is an organization designed to makean .int~resting living for some of its members, and to provide entertainment,educatlOn, and hope, for the rest of them. The work of the Socialists withinthe W. C. was largely restricted to educational measures and, by arranging'Y. P. A.-classes in the "social sciences", served practically the educatorshired by the government wh en the latter took over the education of the un-employed. The W. C., in counteracting the "bad" characteristics of theunemployed movement, th at is, the tendency towards direct act ion , essentiallyfos~ered the "respectability" later adopted also by the U. C. and the C. P.,WhlCh allowed the organized unemployed movement then to become a"government-recognized" institution designed to serve some lobbyists inWashington. Save in phraseology, the legislative program of the W. C. did

·W. Z. Foster. Toward Soviet America. p. 248.

101

not differ from that of the C. P. The W. C. also was organized into locals,county organizations, state and national bodies. However, the organizationwas more flexible than that of the authoritarian C. P. In some cities a houseof delegates brought representatives of locals of both organizations rogether.

In relief work the main function of these and other organizations wasthe installation of grievance committees, calculated to assist workers ingetting the established relief rates. At certain places these grievance com-mittees were welcomed by the relief authorities and, at others, they wereopposed, so that the struggles of the unemployed were, for a time, centeredaround the question of the rights to grievance committees. Principally noone had anything against such committees. R. L. Johnson, welfare directorof Pennsylvania wrote, for instance r"

"I set up in tbe state beadquarters a bureau wbose sole futictionwas to deal with fhe organized unemployed. We establisbed in eachcounty, committees of tbree to reprasent tbe people on relief and tomeet weekly, either witb tbe county administrator or bis representative,to go over grievances. In aIl my dealings with tbe unemployed, I wasguided by tbe firm convict ion that tbe best way to lick tbe problems ofFascism and Communism and to minimize tbe dissatisfaction andmisunderstanding among tbe unemployed was to give tbem anopportunity, at least onee a week, to air their grievances, whicbcertainly are heavy, before someone authorized to correct any in-justice."

However, the original grievance committees were of another character; theywere combined with the continual threat of mass action at the localstations and functioned, not with specific rules, but in accordance with themilitancy of the workers. To remove the "obstructive" character of thecommittees, the authorities established central bureaus to consider grievances,and thereby took away responsibilities from the local stations and reduced thecommittees to mere servants of the case-workers. The unemployed organ-izations did not succeed in their attempts to stop this emasculation of thegrievance committees-

The aforementioned Unemployed Unions of the I. W. W. were of theopinion that relief could not solve the unemployed question, and th at it wasnecessary to put the jobless back to work by shortening the working day forall workers to 4 hours. Their policy was the "picketing of industries" toimpress upon the ernployed workers the need for opening the factoriesto the jobless, To foster the understanding necessary to fulfill theirprogram, they advocated the participation of the unemployed in the strikes ofthe employed.. They did not propose any immediate relief demands, and inactuality the U nernployed Unions were nothing more than agitation com-mittees for the J. W. W. However the U. U. did not grow, and they werelater abolished. The unemployed were advised to enter the regular In-dustrial Unions- Regardless of their special philosophy the Wob blies like aIlother workers organized or unorganized, participated in all the daily activitiesof the unemployed, demanding and fighting for better relief, even -though"relief could not solve the problem."

Though it is not possible to conneet the solidarity between employed andunemployed with the insufficient propaganda of the insignificant unemploy-ment activity of the 1. W. W., this solidarity was demonstrated in many

*Saturday Evening Post. March 28, 1936, p. 97.102

strikes during this period, as, for example, in the Detroit Autoworkers strikeIn lanuary-;-February 1933, an

Labor Á ction had succeeded in forming unemployed organizations, or ingaining control of others which already existed,· and which had been in looseconneet ion with the Chicago Federation. These connections were severed inorder to form a new national federation together with the U. C. of the C.P.,an organization which was soon again dissolved, till, in 1936, the W. C. ofthe S. P., which previously had changed its name into Wor kers Á lliance ofÁ merica (WA) ,combined with the much disintegrated U. C. Today,the Workers Alliance is the only unemployed organization of any im-portance, although smaller groups here and there still function independentlywithout, however, differing essentially from the W. A. and its activities.

Considering the whole organized unemployed movement from the onsetof the depression to the New Deal, it cannot be said that the organizedmovement had at any time enough power or sufficient following to be able toforce local, state, or national authorities to grant concessions. There is nodoubt that all organizations together had some influence upon the unemployedmasses, but neither the organized activity nor the support it actuallygot from the broad masses can be regarded as the decisioe moment whichbrought about the change in welfare relations. The turn in governmentalunemployed policy can be explained only out of the whole cloth, not out of aspecific aspect of the crisis condition, the aspect of unemployment and its or-ganizational expressions. Certainly the actual pressure exerted by theunemployed and their organizations would have forced any government togive and to increase relief. Certainly it is not possible to starve large, con-centrated masses to death without inviting troubles more costly than thenecessary relief allotments. However, as long as the unemployed represent arelatively small minority within the tot al population, and as long as only aminority of them is actually impoverished, it is difficult for the unemployedto enforce more than the most meager relief rations, for outside of riots anddisturbances they do not possess real weapons to enforce their demands. Butthe use of such ultimate weapons presupposes a general crisis situ at ion and ageneral atmosphere of unrest of a larger scope th en had existed.

People often wonder why it is so difficult to organize the unemployed.This difficulty, however, is not mysterious at all; it indicates only th at thewor kers recognize quite weIl the limitations of unernployed organizations.They cannot help but recognize the power of capital and its institutions, andthey have a difficult time accepting the idea th at these forces could besuccessfully opposed with no more than demonstrations and protests, whichactions are possible only as long as the authorities allow them. For the samereason they believe that the individual approach will have the best results,because he who cannot fight must either scheme or beg. This also causesthem to prefer the more reformist organizations and the professional leaders,for these organizations and persons do exactly wh at seems to the majority ofworkers the most sensible thing to do-the attainment by political scheming ofwhat cannot be achieved by struggle. Only wh en relief is denied altogetherdoes the need for radical action come to the fore and influence organizations.But as soon as institutions for relief are created, the unemployed, and withthem their organizations, will tend to make them more effective, whichhowever, is possible only by a certain amount of cooperation. Even thoserelief institutions resulting from struggles of the unemployed give rise to newattitudes as soon as they become permanent, and foster political bargaining104 ~

ra.t~er than political action. The transformation of the once relativelymilitant unemployed orga~zations into the present semi-governmentalWorkers Á lliance is not, as is often argued only the result of treacherouschanges of policies on the part of the political 'parties but more so the resultof the changing attitudes of the masses, effected by ;he g~neral ch~nge of gov-ern~ental. p~licy. That "accidentally" th is change coincided with changes ofpoli Cles wlth!n the C. P. is only a lucky break for the latter, but has nofurther beanng on the question. Even if the C. P. would not have becomea government-supporting agency, and if all other .issues would have remainedthe same, the unernployed movement would still be what it is today, withthe

THE MASSES AND THE VANGUARDEconomie and political changes

proceed with bewildering rapiditysince the close of the world war. Theold conceptions in the 1 a b 0 rmovement have become faulty andinadequate and the working class or-ganizations present a scene of in-decision and confusion.

In view of the changing economieand political situation it seems thatthorough reappraisement of the taskof the working class becomes neces-sary in order to find the forms ofstruggle and organization most need-ful and effective.

The relation of "the party," "or-ganization" or "vanguard" to themasses plays a large part in con-temporary working class discussion.That the importance and indispen-sability of the vanguard or party isoveremphasized in working cla sscircles is not surprising, since thewhole history and tradition of themovement tends in that direction.

The labor movement of today Isthe fruit of economie and politicaldevelopments that found first ex.pression in the Chartist movement inEngland (1838-1848), t h e sub.sequent development of trade uni onsfrom the fifties onward, and in theLasall~a~ movement in Germany inthe sixties. Corresponding to thedegree of capitalist developmenttrade unions and political partiesdeveloped in the other countries ofEurope and America.

The overthrow of feudalism andthe needs of capitalist industry inthemselves necessitated the marshal-!ng of the proletariat and the grant-mg of certam democratie privilegesby the capitalists. The latter hadbee? reorganizing society in line withtheir nee ds. The political structureof . feudalism .was replaced bycapitalist parhamentarism. T h ecapitalist state, the instrument foradministering the joint affairs of thecapitalist cla ss, was established andadjusted to the needs of the newclass.

The bothersome proletariat whoseassistance against the feudal forceshad been necessary now had to bereckoned with. Once called intoaetion it could not be entirely elimi-106

nated as a political factor. But itcould be coordinated. And this wasdone partly consciously withcunning and partly by the verydynamics of capitalist economy - asthe working c1ass adjusted itself andsubmitted to the new order. It org-anized unions whose limited objectiv-es (better wages and conditions)could be realized in an expandingcapita list economy. It played thegame of capitalist politics within thecapitalist state (the practices andforms of which were determinedprimarily by capitalist needs,) and,within these limitations, achieved ap-parent successes.

But thereby the proletariat adopt-ed capitalist forms of organizationand capitalist ideologies. The partiesof the workers, like those of thecapitalists became limited corpora-tions, the elemental needs of the classwere subordinated to political ex-pediency. Revolutionary objectiveswere displaced by horse-trading andmanipulations for political positions.The party became aIl-important, itsimmediate objectives supersededthose of the class. Where revolutio-nary situations set into motion theclass, whose tendency is to fight for.the realization of the revolutionaryobjective, the parties of the workers"represented" the working class andwere themselves "represented" byparliamentarians whose very positionin parliament constituted resignationto their status as bargainers within acapitalist order whose supremacy wasno longer chaIlenged.

The general coordination of work-ers' organizations to capitalism sawthe adoption of the same specializa-tions in union and party activitiesth at characterized the hierarchy ofindustries. Managers, auperinten-dents and foremen saw their counterparts in presidents, organizers andsecretaries of labor organizations.Boards of directors, executive- com-mittees, etc. The mass of organizedworkers Iike the mass of wage slavesin industry left the work of directionand control to their betters.

This emasculation of worker's in-itiative proceeded rapidly as capital-ism extended its sway. Until the

11

(world war put an end to furtherpeaeeful and "orderly" capitalist ex-pansion.

The risings in Russia, Hungary andGermany found a resurgence of maseaction and initiative. The socialnecessities compeIled action by themasses. But the traditions of the oldlabor movement in western Europeand the economie backwardness ofeastern Europe frustrated fulfillmentof labor's historie mission. WesternEurope saw the masses defeated andth.e rise of ~ascism a la Mussolini andHitler, while Russia's backwarde~on?m~ de,":eloped the "commu-nism In which the differentiationbet,,:ee.n class and vanguard, thespecialization of functions and theregimentation of lab or reached itshigh est point.

The leadership principle, the ideaof the vanguard that must assumeresponsibility for the proletarianrevoluti~n is based on the pre-warconception of the lab or movement, isu.nsound. The tasks of the revolu-t!on and t~e communist reorganiza-bon of seciety cannot be realizedwithout the widest and fuIlest actionof the masses themselves. Theirs isthe task and the solution thereof.

The decIine of capitalist economythe p~ogressive paralysis, the in~stabIllty, the mass unemploymentthe. wage cuts and intensive pauperl~zation of the workers - a11 theseco.mpel action, in spite of fascism a laHltler or the disguised fascism of theA. F. of L.

The old organizations are either~estroyed or voluntarily reduced toIInP~tence. Real act ion now isPO~lb!e only outaide the old org-RDlz9;tlOns. In Italy, Germany and

USSla the White and Red fascismshav~ already destroyed all old or-~Dlzabons and placed the workersthrectly before the problem of finding

e new f 0 r m 5 of struggle InEngland, France and America· the~~d organi~ati?ns still maintain ath g;ee of Illu~lOn among workers, butf err SUcceSSlve surrender to thethrces of. reaction is underminingem rapidly,

The principles ofstruggle, soIidarity andare heing forced uponactuaI class struggle.

independentcommunism

them in the

With this powerful trend towardmass consolidation and mass actionthe theory of regrouping and re-aligning the militant organizationsseems to be outdated. True, regroup-ing is essential, but it cannot be amere merger of the existing or-ganizations. In the new conditions arevision of fighting forms is necessa-ry. "First clarity - then unity."Even smaIl groups recognizing andurging ths principles of independentmass movement are far more sîgnifi-cant today than large groups thatdeprecate the power of tbe masses.

There are groups that perceive thedefects and weaknesses of parties.They of ten furnish sound criticismof the popular front combination andthe unions. But tbeir criticism islimited. They lack a comprebensiveunderstanding of the new society.The tasks of the proletariat are notcompleted witb seizure Jlf the meansof production and the abolition ofprivate property. The question ofsocial reorganization must be putand answered. ShaIl state socialismbe rejected? What sbaIl be the basisof a society without wage slavery?What shaIl determine the economierelations between factories? Whatshall determine the relations betweenproducers and the total product?

Tbese questions and their answersare essential for an understandingof the forms of struggle and ergani-zation today. Here the conflict bet-ween the leadership principle and theprinciple of independent mass actionbecomes apparent. For, a thorougbunderstanding of these questionsleads to the reaIization that thewidest, all-embracing, direct a'ctivityof the proletariat as a class is neces-sary to realize communism.

Of first importance is the abolitionof the wage system. The wiIl andgood wishes of men are not potentenough to retain this system af terrevolution (as in Russia) withouteventually surrendering to the dy-narmes engendered by it. It is notenough to seize the means of pro-duction and aboIish private property.It is necessary to aboIish the basiccondition of modern exploitation,wage sIavery, and that act brings onthe. succeeding measures of reorgani-zation that would never be invokedwithout the first step. Groups that

107

do not put these questions, no mat.terhow sound their crltlClsm otherwîse,lack the most important eleme?ts mthe formation of sound ravoluttonerypolicy. The abolition of ~he wagesystem must be carefully l?yestIgat-ed in its relation. to pohtl~s an.deconomics. The artiele f.ollowmg th~sone deals with certam econom!caspects of the problem. Yf.e 'YInhere take up some of the political im-plications.

First is the question of the seizureof power by the workers. Theprinciple of the maaaea (not party orvanguard) retaining power must beemphasized. Commumsm cannot beintroduced or realized by a party.Only the proletariat as a whole cando that. Communism means ~hat.thewor kers have taken their destmy mtotheir own hands; that they ha;veabolished wages; that they have, W1~hthe suppression of the bureaucratIcapparatus, combined the legis~ativeand executive powers. The umty ofworkers lies not in the sacrosanctmerger of parties or trade unions,but in the similarity of their needsand in the expression of needs inmass action. All the problems of theworkers must therefore be viewed inrelation to the developing self-actionof the masses.

To say that the non-combativespirit of the political parties is due tothe malice or reformism of theleaders is wrong. The politicalparties are impotent. They will. donothing, because they can do nothing-Because of its economie weakness,capitalism has organized for suppres-sion and terror and is at presentpolitically very strong, for it is forcedto exert all its effort to maintainitself. The accumulation of capital,enormous throughout the world, hasshrunk the yield of profit, - a factwhich, in the extemal policies,manifests itself through the con-tradictions between nations ; and, inthe internal policies, through "dev-aluation" and the attendant partlalexpropriation of the middle class andthe lowering of the subsistenee levelof the workers ; and, in general, bythe centralization of the power ofbig capital units in the hands of thestate. Against this centralized powerlittle movements can do nothing. Themasses alone can combat it, for only108

they can destroy the power of thestate and become a political force.For that reason the fight based oncraft organizations becomes object-ively obsolete, and the large maasmovements, unrestricted by the limi-tations of such organizations, mustnecessarily replace them.

Such is the new situation facingthe workers. But from it springs anactual weakness. Since the oldmethod of struggle by means of elec-tions and limited tra de union activityhas become quite futile, a newmethod, it is true, has instinctivelydeveloped, but that method has notyet been conscientiously, and there-fore not effectively, applied. Wheretheir parties and trade uni ons a~eimpotent, the masses already begmto express their militancy throughwild cat strikes. In America, England,France, Belgium, Holland, Spain,Poland - wildcat strikes develop,and through them the masses presentample proef that their old organiza-ti ons are no longer fit for struggle.The wildcat strikes are not, however,disorganized, as the name implies.They are denounced as such by unionbureaucrats, because they are strikesformed outside the official organiza-tions. The strikers themselves org-anize the strike, for it is an old truththat only as an organized mass canworkers struggle and conquer. Theyform picket lines, provide for therepulsion of strike-breakera, organ~zestrike relief, create relations withether factories... In a word, theythemselves assume leadership oftheir own strike, and they organize iton a factory basis.

It is in these very movements thatthe strikera find their unity ofstruggle. It is th en that they taketheir destiny into their own handsand unite "the legislative and execut-ive power" by eliminating unionsand parties, as illustrated by severalstrikes in Belgium and Holland.

But independent class action is stillweak. That the strikers, instead ofcontinuing their independent actiontowards widening their movement,call upon the unions to join them, isan indication that under existing con-ditions their movement cannot growlarger, and for that reason cannotyet become a political force capable

~

of fighting' concentrated capital. Butit is a beginning.

OccasionaUy, though, the inde-pendent struggle takes a big leapforward, as with the Asturian min-ers' strikes in 1934, the Belgianminers in 1935, the strikes in France,Belgium, and America in 1936, andthe Catalonian revolution in 1936.These outbreaks are evidence that anew social force is surging amongthe workers, is finding workers'leadership. is subjecting social in-stitutions to the masses, and isalready on the march.

Strikes are no longer mere in-terruptions in profit - making orsimple economie disturbances. Theindependent strike derives its signifi-cance from the action of workers asan organized class. With a system offactory committees and workers'councils extending over wide areasthe proletariat creatcs the organswhich regulate production, distribu-tion, and all the other functions ofsocial life. In other words, the civiladministrative apparatus is deprivedof aIl power, and the proletariandictatorship establishes itself. Thus,class organization in the ver ystruggle for power is at the sametime organization, control, and man-agement of the productive forces andof the entire society. lt is the basisof the association of free and equalproducers and consumers.

This, then, is the danger that theindependent class movement presentsto the capitalist society. Wild catstrikes, though apparently of little

importance whether on a smallorlarge scale, are embryonic commu-nism. A s m a I I wild cat strike,directed as it is by workers and inthe interest of workers, illustrates ona smaIl scale the character of thefuture proletarian power.

A regrouping of militants must beactuated by the knowledge that theconditions of struggle make it neces-sary to unise the "legislative and ex-ecutive powers" m the hands of thefactory workers. They must not com-promise on this position: AIl powerto the committees of action and theworkers' councils. This is the classfront. This is the road to commu-nism. To ren der workers consciousof the unity of organizational formsof struggle, of class dictatorship, andof the economie frame of commu-nism, with its abolition of wages -is the task of the militants,

The militants who caU themselvesthe "Vanguard" have today the sameweakness that characterizes t h emasses at present. They still believethat the unions or the one or theother party must direct the classstruggle, though with revolutionarymethods. But if it be true thatdecisive struggles are nearing, it isnot enough to state that the lab orleaders are traitors. It is necessary,especially today, to formulate a planfor the formation of the class frontand the forms of its organizations.To this end the control of parties andunions must be unconditionaIlyfought. This is the crucial point inthe struggle for power.

COMMUNIST PRODUCTIONAND DISTRIBUTION

Capitalist crises arise from the contradiction between the social forcesand relations of production, a conflict in which the profitable employment ofcapital becomes increasingly difficult and which must lead to the coUapse ofcapitalism, Marxism rejects aU pseudo-socialist economie theories whichconsist merely of a new regulation of distribution while retaining thecapitalistic system of production. Value production must be abolished beforethere can be the slightest semblance of a communist society. Under commu-nism, labor has no "value" and no "price", The abolition of value exchange

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is the abolition of the wage system, tor the wage r~lation !s but ,the excha;~ebetween buyers and sellers of labor power, If this relation e?,I~~s'd r rtmatters not whether the purchasers of labor po~er are in IVdl ua, en

f-

h h by that very circumstance, pro uction 0trepreneurs or t e state - we ave, " And hvalue and surplus-value based on the explOltatl?n, o~ w~rke,rs, , }UC

, I' ti d ction admits of none but capitalistic distribution, Thecapita IS IC pro u " M 'h'manner in which the productive forces are exch,~~ged,. ,says arx dm tb:C iti of the Gotha Program me (page 32), IS decisive as regar srt tçue "manner of exchange of the products. ,.

In communism, production is no ,Ion~r a process of capital expansion,but only a labor process in which society draws from nature t,he means ofconsumption it needs, The only economie criterion is the lab~r time empl~yedin the production of useful goods. And so, from the standpoint of M~r~lsr.n.the Russian experiments in 'planned economy,' ar,e n?t to be rated ~s socialistic.The Russian practice follows the laws of capltah~t a~c~mul~tlOn, ,on thebasis of surplus-value production. The wage relation IS identical with t?atof capitalist production, forming the basis for t~e existen~e of a gro~mgbureaucracy with mounting privileges, which, beside the still p,re~ent pnv~tecapitalist elements, must be appraised as a new class appropriatmg surp uslabor and surplus-value-

The gist of the Bolshevist theory of ~ocialization mal'. b; sketche~ asfollows: With the revolutionary overthrow, I. e., the expropnation of capital,the power over the means of product ion and hence the control over productionand distribution of the products passes into the hands of the sta~e ap-paratus. The latter th en organizes the various branches of productl?n maccordance with a plan and puts them, as a state monopoly, ,at the service ofsociety. With the aid of statistics, the c ent ral authonty comp~tes anddetermines the magnitude and kind of production, as also the apportionmentof the produets to the producers.

To De sure, the means of production here have passed from the handsof the private entrepreneurs into those of the state; as reg~rd~ the producers.however, nothing has changed. No more than unde~ capitalism do the pro-ducers control the products of their labor, for they still lack the c~ntr,ol ov~rthe means of production. Just as before, their only means of livelihood ISin the sale of their labor power. The only differ~nc~ is that th~y are nolonger required to deal with the individual capitalist, but Wit h thetotal capitalist, the state, as the purchaser of labor power.

The decisive problems of a communist economy do not come U? until af-ter the marker, wage-labor, money. etc •• have been completely abohshe? Thevery existence of the wage relation signifies that the means of produ:tlOn arenot controlled by the producers, but confront the producers as capital, andth is circumstance further compels the reproduetion procesli. in the form ofcapital accumulation. The later process, is at the same time the accum~la-tion of misery, and hence also the Russian workers are actu~ll'y growmgpoorer at' the same rate as capital accumulates. The productivity of. theRussian workers increases [aster than their wages; they reeerve a ,relatlv~lyever smaller shaee of the increasing social product, To Marx, t~IS r!latlfJepauperization of the working population in the course of accumulation IS onlya phase of the absolute pauper;tt;at;on.

rr,Capitalist economy has perfected the computability developed by in.

dustry. Particularly in the last two decades the computing methods fordetermining costs have attained a high degree of precision. Though capitalistaccounting methods are bound to money as the common denominator 1ilenecessity for accounting does not die out with the disappearance of money andthe market in the communist society. A general measure a reckoning unitis indispensable to the social regulation of production and distribution. ToMarx and Engels the basis and computing unit of communist economy wasthe socially necessary labor time contained in the products.

Labor time as the unit of reekoning will play a double role in thecommunist economy. "lts apportionment in accordance with a definite socialplan maintains the proper proportion between the different kinds of work tobe done, and the various wants of the community. On the other hand, italso serves as a measure of the portion of the common labor borne by theindividual and of his share in the part of the total product destined for in-dividual consumption. The social relations of the individual producers. withregard both to their labor and to its products, are in th is case perfectlysimple and intelligible, and th at with regard not only to production but alsoto distribution." (Capital, Kerr Ed. Vol. 1. pp. 90-91).

Communism is neither "federalistic" nor "centralistic", and yet it is bothrogether. It is a productive mechanism which assures the independent opera-tion of the units and simultaneously enables social planning of production.In all forms of society the process of production must also be a process ofreproduction. Vnder capitalism reproduction is regulated through the marketmechanism. whereas under communism it is a planned process consciously de-termined by the producers themselves. If labor time is the measure of commu-nist production, it is the measure also for expanded reproduction.

The social average working hour as the computing unit of communistsociety is capable of embracing all categories of production and distribution.Each enterprise will determine the number of working hours it consumes sothat they can be replaced by the same magnitude. The labor time method isunquestionably adapted to compute the total cost of an enterprise, of a branchof industrial production and also of the individual product or partial product.Even those enterprises which give rise to no tangible product are quitecapable of determining the amount of labor time they consume in the form ofproducts.

The production formula of an enterprise as well as th at of society as awhole, may be stated very simple : means of production, plus labor, createsthe product. If one distinguishes between two different kinds of means ofproduction : fixed and circulating, we might assume for example the foUowingproduction formula for a shoe factory:

Machines, ete I Raw materials, ete I Labor power10.000 worIcing hOUTS 70,000 working hours 70,000 working hours

If we further assume that this factory produces 50,000 pairs of shoes,then 150.000 working hours were expended for their production, or threeworJcing hours for each pair, . This formula is at the same time the formulafor simple reproduetion. We know how many labor hours were consumed

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in this factory for the product ion of 50,000 pairs of shoes. The same numberof labor hours must accordingly be restored to it. And what holds for thesingle enterprise holds also for the whole of society, which of course is onlythe sum total of all enterprises. The total social product is the product oftools of production, plus raw materials, plus labor power of all enterprises.Assuming the sum total of all the fixed means of product ion to amount to100 million labor hours, the corresponding raw materials to 600 million,and the labor time consumed to be equal to 600 million, we have the tot alproduct of 1,300 million labor hours. Under conditions of simple reproduo-tion, 600 million labor hours can be turned over to the consumers 10 theform of consumption goods.As in capitalism the accumulation of capital is to a large extend left to in-dividual capitalists, so also the reproduction of labor power is left to theclass-determined individuals. The worker continually produces, with in-significant exceptions, only new workers. The middle class fills, over and overagain, the higher occupations. Under communism, however, both the repro.duetion of labor power and that of the material apparatus of production aresocial functions. No longer is the class position of the individual determining,but the "reproduction" of labor functions is consciously regulated by society.And as corollary, the antagonistic nature of distribution is discarded; it isforeign to a communist society.

The application of the social average labor hour as the computing unitpresupposes the existence of workers' councils organizations. Each enterprisecomes forward as an independent unit and is at the same time connected withall the other enterprises. As a result of the division of labor, each factoryhas certain end products. With the aid of the mentioned formula, each en-terprise can compute the labor time contained in its end products. The endproduct of an enterprise, in so far as it is not destined for individual consump-tion, goes to another enter prise either in the form of means of production orraw rnaterials, and th is one in turn computes its end product in labor hours.The same thing holds for all places of production, without regard to themagnitude or kind of their products.

When the individual enterprises have determined the average labortime contained in their products, it still remains to find the social average-AH enterprises turning out the same products, must compare productionfigures. From the individual enterprises of an industry in a given territory,the tot al average of all the individual plant ave rages for these enterprisesmust be secured. If 100 shoe factories, for example, average three hoursand 100 others average two, then the general average for a pair of shoes is21f2 hours. The varying averages result from the varying productivities ofthe individu al plants, Though this is a condition inherited from capitalism,and the differences in productivity will slowly disappear, the deficit of one en-terprise must meanwhile be made up through the surplus of the other. Forsociety, however, there is only the social average productivity. The determi-nation of the social average labor time calls for the cartellization of the en-terprises. The contradiction between the factory average and the socialaverage labor time ends in the production cart el.

The social average labor time decreases with the development of theproductivity of lab or. If the product thus "cheapened " is for individual con-

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sumption, it goes into consumption with th is reduced average. If it is an endp.roduct used by other enterprises as means of production, then the consump-non of means of product ion and raw materials for these enterprises falls theproduction "costs" decline and hence the average labor time for these productsis re~uced. Compensating for the variations caused in this way is a purelytechmcal problem which presents no special difficulties.

If the working hour serves as a measure of production, it must likewisebe applicable to .d.istribution. ~, very clear statement of th is unit is given by~a~x I~ .hls Critlque (p. 29): What the producer has given to society ishls individual amount of labor. For example, the social working day con-sists of the s,!m. O! the individua~s' hours of work. The individual workingtime of the individual producer IS that part of the social working-day con-tributed by him, his part thereof. He receives from society a voucher (Iabortime money) th at he has contributed such and such a quantity of work (af terdeductions from his work for the common fund) and draws through th isvoucher on the social storehouse as much of the means of consumption asthe same quantity of work costs. The same amount of work which he hasgiven to society in one form, he receives back in another." The wor kerscannot, however, receive the full output of their labor- The labor time isnot the direct measure for the part of the social product destined for in-dividual consumption. As Marx goes on to explain in his Critique (p. 27)"The co-operative proceeds of labor is the total social product. But fromth is must be deducted; firstly, reimbursement for the replacement of themeans of product ion used up; secondly, an additional portion for the extensionof production ; and thirdly, reserve or insurance funds to provide againstmisadventures, disturbances through natural events and so on. There mustagain be taken from the remainder: "Firstly, the general costs of admin-istration not appertaining to production. Secondly, what is destined for thesatisfaction of communual needs. Thirdly, funds for those unable to work."

Those institutions which produce no tangible goods (cultural and socialestablishments) and yet participate in the social consumption may be reckonedas enterprises. Their services go over into society without delay ; productionand distribution here are one. We call these institutions for sake of illustra-tion "public enterprises". Everything which the public enterprises consumemust be drawn from the stores of the productive enterprises. It is necessaryto know the total consumption of these public enterprises. With thegrowth of communism, this type of enterprise receives an ever encreasing ex-tension, means of consumption, dwelling, passenger transport, etc. The moresociety grows in this direction and the more enterprises are transformed inpublic enterprises, the less will individual labor be the measure for individualconsumption. This tendency serves to illustrate the general deoelopment ofcommunist society. Of the social product a part is to be employed for thef?rt~er expansion of the productive apparatus. If this expanded reproduc-tion IS to be a conscious action, it is necessary to know the social labor timerequired for simple reproduction. The formula for simpte reproduetion is:tools of production, plus raw materials, plus labor power. If the mate rialappar~tus of production is to be expanded by ten per cent, a mass of productsof this amount must be withdrawn from individual consumption. Goingback to our formula for society as whole: 100 million tools of product ionplus 600 million raw materials, plus 600 million labor power, means that

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700 million working hours have to be reproduced. There remain 600million working hours. The public enterprises take from these 600 milliontheir means of production and raw materials. Ten per cent is deducted forthe expansion of production, the remainder can be equally distributed amongthe workers engaged in production and in the public enterpris~. If we .as-sume th at 50 million working hours are necessary for the public enterpnsesand 70 million for expansion we have to deduct from the total consumptionfund 120 million working hours. There remain 480 million working hoursfor the fund for individual consumption.

Distribution, like production itself, is asodal question. The 'expenses'of distribution are included in the general budget for the public enterprises.The bringing together of the consumers into associations with a direct con-neetion to the organism of product ion allows full mobility to the satisfactionof needs and to their changes therein. In the relations between the in-dividual enterprises, labor time "money" is superfluous. When an enterprisedelivers its end products, it has linked tools of production, plus raw materials,plus labor power, working hours to the great chain of partia! social labors-These must be restored to the various enterprises in the same magnitude inthe form of other end products. The labor money is valid only for in-dividual consumption. As more and more enterprises are brought intopublic enterprises, distribution by means of labor money grows less and lessimportant and hastens its own abolition. Fixing the factor of individua! con-sumption is the task of social bookkeeping.

This bookkeeping is merely bookkeeping and nothing else. It is thecentral point of the economics process, but has no power over the producers orthe individual enterprises. The social bookkeeping is itself only an en-terprise. lts functions are: the registration of the stream of products,the fixing of the individual consumption fund, the outlay of labor time"money", the control over production and distribution. The control of thelabor process is a purely technical one, which is handled byeach enterpriseitself. The control exercised by the social bookkeeping extends only to ac-counting for all receipts and deliveries of the individual enterprises andwatching over their productivity-

The different industrial enterprises turn their production budgets overto the enterprise which conducts the social bookkeeping, From all the produo-tion budgets results the social inventory. Products in one form flow to theenterprise, new ones in another form are given out by them .To state theprocess in simple terms: Each conveyance of good is recorded in the genera!social bookkeeping by an endorsement, so that the debit and credit of anyparticular enterprise at any time can be seen. Everything which an enterpriseconsumes in the way of tools of production, raw material or labor "money"appear on the debit side of the enterprise ; what it has turned over to societyin the form of products appears as a credit. These two items must covereach other continuously, revealing in this way whether and to what extent theproductive process is flowing smoothly. Shortage and excess on the part ofthe enterprises become visible and can be corrected. The reproductive processbecomes the regulator of production. *·For a more exteosive IItudy of th is problem see: "Grundprinzipien kommuniatiaeher Pro-duktlon und Verteilung.H

Gruppe Iaternationaler Kommuni!Jten (Holland) Herausgegeben VOD der AllaemeineDArt..lter Unlon DeutBchland. Berlin 1980.114

MARXISM AND THE PRESENT TASK OFTHE PROLETARIAN CLASS STRUGGLE

Of Karl Marx may be said whatGeotfroy St. Hilaire said of Darwin,that it was his fate and his glory tohave had only forerunners before himand only disciples after him. Ofcourse, there stood at his side a con-genial life-long friend and collabo-rator, Friedrich Engels. There werein the next generation the theoreticalstandard-bearers of the "revisionist"and the "orthodox" wings of theGerman Marxist party, Bernstein andKautsky and, beside these pseudo-savants, such real scholars of Marx-ism as Antonio Labriola the ItaIian,Georges Sorel in France, and theRus s i a n philosopher Plekhanov.There came at a later stage an ap-parently full restoration of the longforgotten revolutionary elements ofthe Manian thought by Rosa Lux-emburg in Germany and by Lenin inRussia.

During the same period Marxismwas embraced by millions of workersthroughout the world as a guide fortheir }?racticalaction. There was animpoamgsuccessionof organizations,from the secret CommuDi.t Leacueof 1848 and the WorldDCMe.'. ID.terDatio.al Aa.oeiatio. of 1864 tothe rise of powerful sociai democraticparties on a national scale in all in;t.portant European countries and toan ultimate coordination of theirBcanty international a.ctivities in theao-ealledSecoad IDter.atioaal of thepre-war period which siter itseollapsa found its eventual resur-rection in the shape of a militantComm•• iat Part)' on a world-widescale.

Yet there was, during aU this time,DO corresponding internal growth ofthe Marxian theory itself beyondthose powerful ideas which had beencontained within the first scheme ofthe new .revolutionary science asdevised by Marx.

Very few Marxists up to the endof the 19th century did so much asfind anything wrong with this stateof ajfairs. Even when the first at-

Let the dead bury their dead. The prole-tarian •• volution must a.t last arrive at it.own content. (Man:)

tacks of the so-called "Revisionists"brought about what a rad i c a IbourgeoIs sociologist, the later firstpresident of t h e Czecho-SlovakrepubIic, Th. G. Mazaryk, then calleda philosophical and scientific "crisisof Marxism", the Marxists regardedthe condition existing within theirown campas a mere struggle betweenan "orthodox" Marxist faith and adeplorable "heresy". The ideologie,al character of this wholesale identi-fication of an established doctrinewith the revolutionary struggle ofthe wórking class is fûrther enhancedby the fact that the leading represen-tatives of the Marxian orthodoxy ofthe time, including Kautsky inGermany and Lenin in Russia, per-sistently denied the very possibilitythat a true revolutionary conscious-ness could ever originate with theworkers themselves. The revolutio-nary political aims, according tothem, had to be introduced into theeconomieclass struggle of the work-ers "Erom without", i. e., by thetheoretical endeavors of radicalbourgeois thinkers "equipped withaIl the culture of the age", such asLassalIe, Marx, and Engels. Thus,the identity of a bourgeoisbreddoctrine with all present and futuretruly revolutionary struggles of theproletarian class assumed the ehar-acter of a veritable miracle. Eventhose most radical Marxists whocame nearest to the recognition of aspontaneous development of theproletarian class struggle beyond therestricted aim pursued by the leadingbureaucracies of the existing socialdemocratic parties and trade-unions,never dreamt of denying this pre.established harmony between theMarxist doctrine and the actual pro-letarian movement. As Ros aLuxemburg said bi. 1903, and theBolshevikRjazanov repeated in 1928,"every new and higher stage of theproletarian class struggle can borrowfrom the inexhaustible arsenal of theMarxist theory ever new weapons

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as needed by that new stage of theemancipatory fight of the workingclass."

It is beyond the scope of thisartiele to discuss the more generalaspects of this peculiar theory of theMarxists concerning the origin anddevelopment of their own revolutio-nary doctrine, a theory which in thelast analysis amounts to a denial ofthe possibility of an independentproletarian class culture. We referto it in our present context only asone of the many contradictions to beswaIlowed by those who in strikingcontrast to the critical and mate-rialistic principle of Marx dealt with"Marxism" as an essentially com-pleted, and n 0 w unchangeable,doctrine.

A further difficulty of this quasi-religieus attitude towards Marxismarises from the fact that the Marx-ian theory was never adopted as awhole by any socialist group or party."Orthodox" Marxism was at no timemore than a formal attitude by whichthe leading group of the Germansocial demoeratic party in the pre-war period concealed from them-selves the ever continuing deteriora-tion of their own formerly revolutio-nary practice. It was only thisdifference of procedure which sepa-rated that disguised "orthodox" formfrom an openly revisionistic form ofadapting the traditional Marxistdoctrine to the new "needs" of theworkers' movement arising from thechanged conditions of the newhistorical period.

When amidst the storm and stressof the revolutionary struggle of 1917,in view of a "clearly maturing in-ternational proletarian revolution",Lenin, set himself the task to restatethe Marxian Theory of the State andthe Tasks of the Proletariat in theRevolution, he no longer contentedhimself with a mere ideologicaldefence of an assumedly existingorthodox interpretation of the trueMarxist theory. He started from thepremise that revolutionary Marxismhad been totaIly destroyed andabandoned both by the opportunistminority and by the outspoken social-chauvinist majority of all "Marxist"parties and trade-unions of the latesecond International. He openly an-

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nounced that Marxism was dead andproclaimed an integral "reatoration"of revolutionary Marxism.

There is no doubt that "revolutio-nary Marxism", as restored by Lenin,has led the proletarian cIass to itsfirst historical victory. This fact mustbe emphasized not only against thepseudo-Marxist detractors of the"barbarous" communism of th eBolsheviks - as a g a i n s t the"refined" and "cultured" socialismof the West. It must be emphasizedalso against the present beneficiariesof the revolutionary victory of theRussian worRers, who have graduallypassed from the revolutionary Marx-ism of the early years to a no longercommunist but merely "socialist" anddemocratic creed called Stalinism. Inthe same way, on an internationalscale, a mere "antifascist" coalitionof t h e United Fronts, People'sFronts, and National Fronts wasgraduaIly substituted for the revolu-tionary class struggle waged by theproletariat a g a i n s t the wholeeconomic and political regime of thebourgeoisie in the "democratic" asweIl as in the fascist, the "pro-Russian" as weIl as the anti-RussianStates.

In the face of these later develop-ments of Lenin's work, it is no longerpossible to stick to the idea that therestored old revolutionary principlesof Marxism which during the Warand tbe immediate post-war periodhad been advocated by Lenin andTrotsky, resulted in a genuine revivalof the revolutionary proletarian mov-ement which in the past had been as-sociated with the name of Marx. Fora limited period it seemed, indeed,that the true spirit of revolutionaryMarxism had gone East. The striklagcontradictions soon appearing withinthe policy of the ruling. revolutionaryparty in Soviet Russia, both on theeconomie and on the I1.olitiéal fields,were considered as a .mere outcomeof the sad fact that the "internatio-nal proletarian revolution" firmlyexpected by Lenin and Trotsky didnot mature. Yet in the light oflater facts there is na doubt thatultimately, Soviet Marxism as a re-volutionary proletarian t h e 0 r yand practice has shared the fate ofthat "orthodox" Marxism of the Westfrom which it bad sprung and from.,.

which it had split only under the ex-traordinary conditions of the Warand the ensuing revolutionary out-break in Russia. When finally in1933, by the unopposed victory ofthe counter-revolutionary "NationalSocialism", in the traditional centerof revolutionary international so-cialism, it became manifest that"Marxism did not deliver the goods"that judgement applied to th eEastern Communist as weIl as to theWestern social democratic church ofthe ~arxist faith, and the separatefractions were at last united in acommon defeat.

In order to make intelligible thetrue significance and the far reachingfurther implications of this most im-portant lesson of the recent historyof Marxism, we must trace back theduplex character of the "revolution-ary dictatorship of the proletariancia••" which has become widely con-spicuous by recent events both withinpresent day Stalinist Russia and onan international scale, to an originalduplicity appearing in the differentaspects of Marx's own achievementsas a proletarian theoriat and as apolitical leader in the revolutionarymovement of his time. On the onehand, as early as 1843, he was inclose contact with the most advancedmanifestations of French socialismand communism. With Engels hefounded the Deutsche Arbeiteybil-dungsverein in Brussels in 1847 andset about to found an internationalorganization of proletarian cor-respondence committees. Soon af ter-wards, they both joined the first in-ternational organization of t h emilitant proletariat, the Bund derKommuniaten, at whose request theywrote the famous "Manifesto" pro-claiming the proletariat as "the onlyrevolutionary class."

On the other hand, Marx as aneditor of the Neue RheinischeZeitung during the actual revolutio-nary outbreak of 1848 expressedmainly the most radical demands of

. the bourgeois democracy. He stroveto maintain a united front betweenthe bourgeois revolutionary move-ment in Germany and the more ad-vanced forms in which a struggle fordirect socialist aims was at that timealready waged in the more developedindustrial countries of the West. He

wrote his most brilliant and powerfularticle in defence of the Paris pro-letariat af ter its crushing defeat inJune 1848. But he did not bringfor.ward in his paper the specifieclaims of the German proletariatuntil a few weeks before its final sup-pression by the victorius eounter-revolution of 1849. Even then, hestated the workers case in a some-what abstract manner by reproducingin the c b I u m n s of the NeueRheinische Zeitung the economielectures dealing with Wage-Laborand Capital which he had given twoyears before in the Arbeiterbildungs-verein at Brussels. Similarly, by hiscontributions in the 1850's and 60'sto Horace Greeley's New YorkTribune, to the New AmericanCyclopaedia edited by George Ripleyand Charles Dana, to Chartist publi-cations .in England, and to Germanand Austrian Newspapers, Marxrevealed himself chiefly as a spokes-man of the radical democratiepolicies which, he hoped, wou 1 dultimately lead to a war of thedemoeratic West against reactionarytsarist Russia.

An explanation of this apparentdualism is to be found in theJacobinic pattern of the revolutio-nary doctrine WhIChMarx and Engelshad adopted before the February rev-olution of 1848 and to which theyremained faithful, on the whole, evenaf ter the outcome of that revolutionhad finally wrecked their former en-thusiastic hopes. Although t h e yrealized the necessity of adjustingtactics to changed historical condi-ti ons, their own theory of revolution,even in its late st and most advancedmaterialistic form, kept the peculiarcharacter of the transitory periodduring which the proletarian classwas still bound to proceed towardsits own social emancipation by pass-ing through the intermediate stage ofa preponderantly political revolution.

It is true that the revolutionarypolitical effects of the economie war-fare of the Trade Uni ons and of theother forms of championing im-mediate and specific labor interestsbecame increasingly important forMarx during his later years, as at-tested by his leading role in the orga-ization and direction of the Interna-tional Working Men'. ASSClciation in

117

the 60's and by bis contributions tothe programs and tactics of thevarious national parties in the 70's.But it is also true, and is clearlyshown by the internecine battleswaged, within the International, bythe Marxists against the followers ofProudhon and Bakunin that Marxand Engels never reaUy abandonedtheir earlier views on the decisiveimportance of politics as the onlyconscious and fully developed formof revolutionary class action. Thereis only a difference of language be-tween the cautious enroUment of"political action" as a subordinatemeans to the ultimate goal of the"economie emancipation of the work-ing class" as contained in the Rulesof the IWMA of 1864, and the openproclamation, in th e CommunistManifesto of 1848, that "every classstruggle is a political struggle" andthat the "organization of the pro-letarians into a class" presupposestheir "organization into a politicalparty". Thus Marx, from the first tothe last, defined his concept of classin ultimately political terms and, infact though not in words, subordinat-ed the multiple activities exerted bythe masses in their daily classstruggle to the activities exerted ontheir behalf by their political leaders.

This appears even more distinctlyin those rare and extraordinarysituations in which Marx and Engelsduring their later years again werecalled to deal with actual attempts ata European revolution. WitnessMarx's reaction to the revolutionaryCommune of the Paris workers in1871. Witness further Marx's andEng els' apparently inconsistentpositive attitude toward the entirelyidealistic attempts of the revolutio-nary Narodnaja Volja to enforce byterroristic action the outbreak of"a political and thus also a socialrevolution" under the backward con-ditions prevailing in the 70's and 80'sin tsarist Russia. As shown in detailin an earlier article (Living Marxiam,March 1938), Marx and Engels werenot only prepared to regard the ap-proaching revolutionary outbreak inRussia as a signal for a generalEuropean revolution of the Jacobinetype in which (as Engels told VeraSassulitch in 1883) "if the year 1789once comes, the year 1793 will

118

follow". They actually hailed tb.Russian and all-European revolutionas a workers' revolution and thestarting point of a communisticdevelopment.

There is then no point in theobjection raised by the Mensheviksand other schools of the traditionalWestern type of Marxist orthodoxythat the Marxiam of Lenin was infact only the return to an earlierform of the Marxiam of Marx whichlater had been replaced by a moremature and more materialistic form.It is quite true that the very similar-ity between the historical situationarising in Russia in the beginning ofthe 20th century and the conditionsprevailing in Germany, Austria etc.,at t'he eve of the European revolutionof 1848 explains the otherwise un-explainable fact that the Iatest phaseof the revolutionary movement ofour time could have been representedat all under the paradoxical form ofan ideological return to the past.Nevertheless, as shown above, revolu-tionary Marxism as "restored" byLenin did conform, in its purelytheoretical contents, much more withthe true spirit of a11historical phasesof the Marxian doctrine than thatsocial democratic Marxism of thepreceding period which af ter a11, inspite of its loudly professed "ortho-doxy", had never been more than amutilated and travestied form of theMarxian theory, vulgarizing its realcontents, and blunting its revolu-tionary edge. It is for this veryreason that Lenin's experiment in the"restoration" of revolutionary Marx-ism confirmed most convincingly theutter futility of any attempt to drawthe theory of the revolutionary actionof the working class not from its owncontents but from any "myth". Ithas shown, above aIl, the Ideologiealperversity of the idea to supplant theexisting deficiencies of the presentaction by an imaginary return to amythicized past. While such awak-ening of a d e a d revolutionaryideology may possibly help for acertain time, as the Russian revolu-tion has shown, to conceal from themak e r s of the l'evolutional"7"October" the historical limitationsof their heroic efforts, it is bound tore sult ultimately not in finding oncemore the spirit of that earlier revoh-

I-

tionary movement but only in makingits ghost walk again. It has resultedin our time, in a new and "revolutio:n.ary Marxist" .form of the suppres-s!on and e.xploI~tion of the prÇlleta-rran class in Soviet-Russla, and in anequaUy n e wand "revolutionaryMarxis~" form of crushing genuinerevclutionary movements in Spainand aU over the world.. AU this shows clearly that Marx-~sm.today .could only be "restored"In lts original form by its transfor-mation into a mere ideology serving!In altogether different purpose and,Ind~:d, a whole scale of changingpolltical purposes. It serves at thisvery moment as an ideological screenfor the .debunking of the hithertopredommant role of the ruling partyitself and for the further enhance-ment of the quasi-fascist personalleadership of Stalin and of his a11-adaptable agencies, At the sametime, on the mternptional scene theso-called "anti-fascist" policy of the"Marxist" Comintern has come toplay in the present struggles betweenthe various alliances of capitalistpowers exactly the same role as itsopposite, the "anti-communist" and"anti-Mar~st" intez:national policyof the regimes of Hitler, MussoIiniand the Japanese warlords. '

It should be understood that thewhole criticism raised above con-

cerns only tb. ideological end.a~ol'aof the last 50 years to "preserve" ort? "restore", for immediat.e applica-tien, a thoroughly mythicized "revo-~utio~ary ~ar~st doctrina", Nothingm this aztiele IS directad against thescientific results reached by Marx andEngels and' a few of their followeraon various fields of social researchwhich, in many ways hold good tothis day. Above all, nothing in thiaarticle is directed against what maybe caUed, in a very comprehensivesense, th. Marxiat, tbat ia, th. in-dependent revolutionary movem.ntof tb. international working cia •••There seems to be good reason, inthe search for what is living or maybe recaUed to life in the presentdeathly stand still of the revolution-nary workers' movement, to "return"to that practical and not merelyideological broadmindedness by whichtbe 6rat Marxist (at ths aame tim.Proudboniat, Blanquiat, Bakanut,trade-unioniat, etc.) InternationalWorking Men'. Auociation welcomedinto its ranks all workers whosubscribed to the principle of an in-dependent proletarian class struggle.As enunciated in the first of its rul esdrawn up by Marx, ,

"tbe ema~cipation of tbs _kin.el•• aea muat be conquered by tb.

working clau •• themaelv •• ".I.b.

SOUTHERN NE6ROES*

119

The Civil War fr eed four million N egro slaves. The thirteenth andfou~te~nth ame?~ments to the Constitution of the United States establishedtheir nghts as cI~I~ens. From a state of being sold as a commodity, they ad-i;nced to a p.oSltlOnof sell.ers of their own commodity: labor power.

owever, thelr transformation from real slaves into wage slaves was a

;~~t~het~ou~~ of prep~r~ng a series of articles on the lab or conditions in the. .' e e Itors of Livmg Marxism, have asked a number of workers reaid-mg n~ the South ~o state their thoughts and experiences in relation to~uestIons con~ernmg working and living conditions of the exploited classes.t ave for the .mtr?ductory remarks and the book-notes accompanying them,he above. artlcle IS part of a letter we received from a worker living in the

Sou~b. Wlth the p~blication of this letter we open the discussion, hoping toreeerve more matenal from our readers, so that the pro bIems and possibfliëleaof ~o~thern workers at the present stage of development may b lltatedreahstlcally.

painful process. At -the end of the Civil War wages for N egro labor wereas low as $7 a month for men and $5 a month for ~omen. F~eedom b.eganwith hunger. Already "during the War of Secession, the entire expenenceof Southern Negroes was discouraging and disillusioning.:. Whether releasefrom slavery came early or late, it was always accornpanied by unexpectedhardship ... It must have been apparent to Southern Negroes when the triumphof the N orth in 1865 assured the final end of slavery that the fight for realfreedom had just begun."·'

Then came the days of the Carpetbaggers, who offered Negroes newillusions in exchange for their votes. The white Southerners, however, neverceased the struggle to regain the political control of the South. The KuKlux Klan and other terror organizations scared the Negroes away from thepolls. Wh~t the night-riders began was completed by legislative tricks, such

*Bell lrvin WiIey, Southern Negroes 1861-1865. Yale University Press,1938. (366 pp. $3.00; quotation p. 344)

Mr. Wiley's book is the first fuIl-scale attempt to discover what happenedto the Southern Negroes in their transition from slavery to freedom. ~tportrays the relations betwe.en the .white people and ~he Negroes 10regard to all important socio-economie and mlht~ry qu.estIons, al}d. showsquite Iclearly that both the North and the South, 10 wagmg the CI,?1 War,were not at aIl concerned with the "human side" of the slave question. AsMarx and Engels stated (The Civil War in the United States, p. 81), thestruggle between the South and the North was "nothing but a strugglebetween two social systems, between the system of slavery and the system offree labor. The struggle has broken out because the two systems can nolonger live peacefully side by side." The dominant political rol~ of the slavestat es within the Union and their economie interests, at that tI~e bound upwith exports rather than with the still backward h?~e markets, ~mdered capi-tal expansion in the North and compelled the Civil War. ThIS. War. w.as"progressive" only for Northern capitalism, (The South was not industrializ-ad by the North. In 1860 the South produced 150/0 of the total manufacturedproducts of the U. S., and in 1917 still ~nly 150/0. In 19~7 the South's sh~ewas raised to 17% ), but it hardly justIfied the expectations of the labonngpopulation. Only with a sigh can one read today the Address of the Interna-tional Workingmen's Association to Abraham Lincoln, which Marx alsosigned and which reads: "While the workingmen, the true political power ofthe N~rth, allowed slavery to defile their own republic, while. befor~ theNegro, mastered and sold without his concurrence, .they boasted ît the highestprerogative of th" white-skinned laborer to sell himself and choose his ownmaster, they were unable to attain the true freedom. of .Jabor, or t? SUPP?rttheir European brethren in their struggle for emancipation ; but this bamerto progress has been swept off by the red sea o! .civil war." (The Civil Wafin the United States, p. 281) But the 'true political power of the. !'lorth ,although helping to free the Negroes, maintained throughout the CIVllWar,and ever since, the deepest contempt for ~heir black br?th.ers. As ~~fore,also under 'progressive capitalism' "lab or In the black skm IS brande? -.andit becomes obvious, that, to reverse an oft. quot~d phrase of ~arx, this situa-tion will not change until labor in the white skin has freed ltself .. Çompar-ing the sober writing of Mr. Wiley with the currently peddled CIVll w.arand Negro Emancipation legends in which a so-called labor movement 10-dulges most freely, one sees clearly that inspiri!1g this empt~ chatter of the'tra ditions' of the American people is the old trick of rendering the ~orker~more susceptible to present capitalism's needs, as the sob-storiesk 0slaver and the flag-waving of the Civil War were used to make t~e ~or ~rseager ~o sacrifice their Jives for the sake of capitaJism's needs. ThIS sItua~o.~gives Mr. Wiley's book much significance, and prompts us to recommen 1to our readers..120

as the famous "grandfather clause", which provided that for one to beeligible to vote, his grandfather must have been also eligible to vote. Latercame the poll tax clause, but the "N egro had already lost his interest ingovernment and voting.; There were very few who would pay two dollarsjust for the privilege of voting for some white candidate. This conditiongrew into a situation where the politicians and monied interests that wantedto elect certain candidates would pay the Negroes' poll tax for votes, andthen herd them to the polls to vote according to the politicians' dictates. Inth is way the Negro gradually voted himself out of politics in the South and,to be sure that he stays out, there was inaugurated the white primary, whichput the Negro entirely out of polities.".

For the most part the Negroes in the South maintained their agriculturaloccupations after the Civil War, and continued to be concentrated in cottonproduction. They worked as laborers or tenants. In the cities they con-tinued to do the dirty work; to fill the less desired unskilled laboring posi-tions, their wages remaining always below the already low wages of thewhite workers. Today their wages range from 75 cents to one dollar-and-a-quarter a day. Some Negroes succeeded, it is true, in entering the skilledtrades and the professions.** Others even became owners of farms andhomes, but since 1880 their number has declined. Still others were able toestablish banks, insurance companies, and other forms of economie and com-mercial enterprises, but these, for the most part, failed miserably, The greatNegro masses, of which there are 8 millions in the South today, remainedunder the most wretched conditions.***

The only leaders the ruling class allows the Negro to have are preachersand they gladly contribute to their support. Even as far back as 1861 theSouth Carolina Conference of the Methodist Church, in a plea for thesupport of slave missions, called -attention to their enhanced value in "secur-

.*T: Le Roy Jefferson, The Old Negro and the New Negro. MeadorPubhshmg Co., Boston, 1937. (U8 pp. $1.50; quotation p. 16)

Mr. Jefferson, a Negro himself, wrote th is little book "to point out to mypeople some of the errors they are making that are holding the Negroes back~s a rac~." The book is interesting insofar as it serves as an excellentilluetratton that the class relations are much stronger than the race relations.Tbe author, belonging to the middle class, is con1cernedonly with the problemof how to make better and more obedient servants out of the negro popula-bon. Being 'emancipated' himself, he tealches the blessings of humbleness tothose who try in one way or another to make their miserabIe lives a littlebetter. In other words, he does what any succesful labor leader does.

**For detailed information on Negro labor question see: Charles H.Wesley, Negro Labor in the United States. Vanguard Press, New York,1927. The book contains an extensive bibliography indicating other studieson the same subject.

~"There was recently published by Modern Age Books, New York,Erskme CaldweIl & Margaret Bourke-White's "You Have Seen Their Faces."T.Jtebook, selling at a price workers can afford (75c) not only states in ahlghly impressive manner most of the prevailing probIems of the South, but,together with the story-telling photographs by Miss Bourke-White, and manyquotations of representatives of the different \classes, may cause the readerenough indignation to start hirn on a more extended investigation of SouthernConditions. ,

121

ing the quite and peaceful subordination of these people.Y" And in1863 the Reliçious Herald, commenting on the value of the church workamong the Richmond Negroes said: "May we not hope and pray th at largenumbers will be savingly converted to Christ, thus becoming better earthlyservants while they wear with meekness the yoke of their masters in heaven."Religion is the only thing which the ruling class voluntarily offers in largequantities. However, there is an organization or two in the South dedicatedto the cause of securing the Negroes fuIl political and civil rights. They ad-vocate the right of franchise, but the baIlot can no longer mean anything tothe Negroes, as it has ceased to have any meaning for the white workers. Theabolition of the poll tax is opposed since it would enable the N egro to vote.The fact that it disables thousands of white workers politicaIly is overlooked.However, th is is not of much importance, since the white worker in the SouthselIs his vote anyhow- This is the only value it has for him, and in th ishe is quite sensible; the N egro would do the same. However, it is not irn-possible that the ruling class may grant the vote as a compromising concession,when a crisis is at hand, but it is much more likely that .the average whiteSoutherner would rather Jight to the death than to share even illusionary"political rights" with the N egro. As far as the latter are concerned, theyhave lived under a kind of "fascist rule" since the Civil War, and it wouldnot be difficult to extend this rule over the white workers. But it couldnot be kept over both b