Archive for category Political theory
I bought a lovely second hand hardback copy of Ralph Miliband’s Class Power & State Power (1983) a couple of weeks ago and have been dipping in and out of it for the past two or three days. It’s a fairly eclectic collection of some of Miliband’s essays, although organised into three thematic sections – ‘The Capitalist State’, ‘Marxism and the Problem of Power’ and ‘Britain’ (the second being the most wide ranging and the third feeling a little tacked on). The book contains a fair few of what it’s probably now fair to consider ‘classic Miliband’ pieces – his powerfully angry essay on ‘The Coup in Chile’ written shortly after the overthrow of Allende, his critique of ‘Lenin’s The State and Revolution‘ (not quite as devastating as I remembered it, but still pretty sharp on some key gaps, lacunae and instances of wishful thinking in Lenin’s – in my view highly over-rated – text) and excerpts from his halves of the famous New Left Review exchanges with Nicos Poulantzas (though these feel a bit odd reproduced as an ‘essay’ in itself).
Two essays I’ve never read before and which I found surprisingly fascinating were his critical review of Perry Anderson’s Passages from Antiquity and Lineages of the Absolutist State (in ‘Political Forms and Historical Materialism’) in which Miliband takes Anderson to task for understating the autonomy of the Absolutist state from the aristocracy, and his essay ‘Political Forms and Historical Materialism’ in which Miliband attempts to account for the role of chance, accident and individual decision within the historical process and to integrate this with the focus on grander social and structural historical forces in Marxist historiography.
Re-reading Miliband directly (rather than about him) for the first time in several (probably 10 ) years, I’m struck by what a lucid and eminently readable writer he was. A writing style is, for me anyway, a kind of persona – a writer’s voice expresses itself in and carries with it a sort of character. Some are austere and unfriendly, some are buttoned up and excessively formal and others feel like they aren’t really very interested in being read by the likes of you and are doing their best to shake you off. Miliband’s writing however has a distinctly affable – almost conversational – quality to it. I want to say, in fact, that there’s something almost genteel about Miliband’s writing style in the best sense of that term – charming, relaxed and good-humoured if perhaps also slightly tweedy and old-school in its choices of diction and turns of phrase. But while he writes in what comes across as a fairly relaxed and genial manner it’s never sprawling or meandering. In fact Miliband’s key points are almost always expressed in an impressively sharp and clear way. Indeed most of the essays in this book are pretty short and to the point. How he managed to write with such precision and lucidity while also maintaining such a conversational tone, I don’t know – but what an impressive writer he was.
These qualities are much in evidence in what is for me the stand-out essay in the collection (and the reason I bought the book) – ‘State Power and Class Interests’. I really think that this is a very fine essay on the vexed question of the ‘relative autonomy of the state’ in Marxist state theory. In his characteristically lucid and accessible style, Miliband pin-points the key problems with both ‘class reductionist’ (Poulantzas and Therborn) and ‘state reductionist’ (Skocpol) accounts of state autonomy and sets out an admirably simple (though certainly not simplistic) model of ‘partnership’ between the state (or key figures within the state executive) and the capitalist class.
The problem with theorists such as Poulantzas is that they dissolve state power entirely into class power – for Poulantzas the state is fundamentally a condensate of all the contradictions between classes and class fractions. Its autonomy is thus a sort of epiphenomenal expression at the political level of conflicts and tensions between class forces. The state thus has no independent interests or sources of power of its own. As Miliband very elegantly points out however, this really won’t do. The main problem with such class reductionist perspectives is that they cannot account for ‘two powerful impulses to state action generated from within the state by the people who are in charge of the decision-making power… and [that] cannot be taken to be synonymous with the purposes of the dominant class’.
The first of these is that state actors can, clearly, be motivated by self-interest – this Miliband calls the ‘Machiavellian dimension of state action’. The ability to exercise decision-making power within the state is quite clearly very attractive in itself for some people (Miliband here cites as evidence the personality and behaviour of Lyndon B Johnson) – some people desire it and if they get it they wish to hold on to it. The actions and decisions of such people may have very little to do with the purposes of any class fraction – the Machiavellian actor here acts with a certain degree of autonomy (acts on his/her self-interest) and is certainly not simply some sort of conduit for capitalist class imperatives. Further, the upper echelons of the state are also sources of status, privilege, connections, high salaries and access to desirable positions outside the state and the state also provides, indeed, the terrain upon which the Machiavellian actor can manoeuvre to further his/her self interest. Thus the state (and the wider sphere of politics) constitutes a separate and, under normal circumstances, more or less free standing site of power in itself – one that must be, to some extent, independent of class forces.
The second impulse to state action is the idea of ‘the national interest’ – however overdetermined by ideological mystification and/or euphemism etc this concept might be , people in power are clearly motivated in good faith by this concept at least some of the time. They really are moved by what they conceive to be in ‘the national interest’. Their conception of ‘the national interest’ tends to coincide with the core interests of core sections of capital, though Miliband’s explanation of this seems to me to be a little weak. Miliband suggests that the connection here is embedded in the ‘belief’ among state actors that the national interest is bound up with the ‘well being of capitalist enterprise’ or the belief that ‘no conceivable alternative arrangement, least of all socialism, could possibly be more advantageous to the ‘national interest”. While this is true, it doesn’t quite get to the nub of the matter. Fred Block it seems to me is on stronger ground when he suggests (in what is quite a similar approach overall that stresses the independent agency of state managers) that the decisions of state actors tend to coincide with the interests of core sections of capital simply because the state is dependent on profits for its own revenue via taxation and thus has an interest in boosting (or at least not depressing) capital accumulation. Nevertheless Miliband’s approach here is similar enough. Indeed, as for Block, Miliband also suggests that it’s this ideology of the ‘national interest’ that enables state managers to rationalise capitalism – that is to go against the immediate interests of specific sections of capital (or even large swathes of it) with the intention of boosting accumulation overall and/or over the longer term. The key point here for Miliband (as for Block) is that state actors would not be able to act ‘in the long term interests of capitalism’ unless they acted on impulses that are not wholly reducible to class forces.
As against ‘state reductionists’, however, Miliband wants to insist that the state does not and cannot float entirely free of class forces. Skocpol’s model of ‘the state for itself’ tends to abstract from the ‘hard reality’ of the capitalist context in which it is situated – but as Miliband insists, no government can be indifferent to this context if it wishes to survive.
So, overall, as Miliband puts it, ‘an accurate and realistic ‘model’ of the relationship between the dominant class in advanced capitalist societies and the state is one of partnership between two different, separate forces, linked to each other by many threads, yet each having its own separate sphere of concerns’. There’s a complementarity here between Miliband’s model of the state and Harvey’s and Callinicos’s theorisation of imperialism in which the latter speak of a dialectical interplay between the ‘territorial’ and capitalist ‘logics of power’ – neither of which are reducible to the other, but which are also deeply interwoven in the complex of forces and imperatives that drives imperial expansion. Nevertheless I’m not sure that any other recent major theorist of the state (other than Block mentioned above) has given due consideration to the autonomy of state actors as a core constituent factor (indeed as the pivot) of the ‘relative autonomy of the state’.
RS21 have a summary of three sessions focusing on the political situation in Britain at the recent Historical Materialism conference in London. It includes a report on the panel I was part of: ‘Alternative Strategies for the Left’. Seems a fair summary. I hope, in the near future, to write up the paper I delivered and publish it here (marking, teaching preparation and torrents of admin permitting).
I’ve been reading up on the history of European socialism (Donald Sassoon’s One Hundred Years of Socialism among others). One of the conclusions that seems to emerge is that the socialist left has always been (and still is) caught in a kind of double bind. In fact we might say that this impasse is, in a sense, constitutive of socialist thought and practice. Sassoon presents the dilemma in terms of an unbridgeable gap between, on the one hand, the immediate demands of the present and, on the other, the goal or ‘end state’ of socialism.
The terms of the problem, briefly, are that there is no way to move straight to the end goal, but the process of attending to immediate problems (i.e. amelioration of the worst effects of capitalism by means of reform) puts you in the position of attempting to transform from within a system that has definite structural limits and embedded systemic mechanisms to enforce these (capital flight, inflationary pressure, balance of payments crises) – inevitably you end up managing that system within the boundaries it presents. Adam Przeworski sums this all up in terms of ‘business confidence’ – this is the major structural mechanism that enforces the limits of capitalism and that systematically blocks attempts to transform capitalism fundamentally from within. It is rooted in capitalist control over the investment function – i.e. capitalist ownership of capital.
The ‘reformist’ way of attempting to resolve the dilemma (Bernstein’s the emblematic representative of this path – though I think a very lucid one and quite honest about what he was doing) is essentially to kick the end goal into the long grass. For ‘reformism’ the socialist goal is always already not just yet, just over the horizon, relegated to a perpetually postponed future. This is, of course, a kind of bad faith on the part of those apparently committed to the attainment this end goal (though not necessarily on the part of Bernstein for who, famously, the ‘ultimate goal’ of socialism was nothing, the ‘movement’ everything).
But the ‘revolutionary’ resolution of the dilemma has always seemed to me not to be a resolution either. Indeed it’s the mirror image of the ‘reformist’ side-stepping of the terms of the problem. Crudely, it pivots on a kind of in-a-flash-everything-is-transformed semi-millenarianism. Few ‘revolutionaries’, of course, argue that we can move straight to socialism (first comes the transitional period of ‘the dictatorship of the proletariat’ after the ‘seizure of political power’) – but the point is that the idea of ‘the revolutionary seizure of power’ serves as a kind of magic-bullet solution to all problems and as such it is not really a solution at all but a rhetorical dodge.
When you start to think beyond the (I suspect deliberately) hand-waving terms in which this ‘seizure of power’ is presented and think through what this would look like concretely, you start to encounter the inherent problems. Many of these are economic – and indeed I don’t think the revolutionary approach finally escapes the problem of ‘business confidence’ either. For one thing it is utopianism to think that *all* major capitals could be expropriated in one fell swoop. Most revolutionary accounts of the transition indicate that the economy in transition would still, for a long while, remain substantially capitalist – it’s just that political power has been transferred to the possession of the proletariat collectively. But as we have seen the structural limits of capitalism are policed economically as much as, if not more than, they are politically. The problem of ‘business confidence’ has not been side-stepped. Even if the revolutionary regime controls the ‘commanding heights’, why would the (substantial) remaining private sector continue to invest any more than it would under a radically reforming government? Why is capitalism vanquished – as the revolutionary narrative suggests it will be – with the destruction of the state, with the transfer of political power? It’s not. Business confidence will exert pressure on a regime of workers’ councils just as they do on the bourgeois state – the transformation of the political institutions in this sense just doesn’t matter.
Furthermore, doesn’t the new regime need imports and exports? Doesn’t the regime therefore require foreign exchange? Won’t it therefore have a balance of payments problem to attend to? Doesn’t it need to ensure that its export goods are ‘competitive’ in terms of quality and price? Doesn’t it need to ensure that wages don’t outstrip productivity (and doesn’t this suggest also that the relationship between a revolutionary regime and unions can’t be harmonious – and that indeed the regime and the working class can’t actually be wholly synonymous?). You could answer this with appeals to a world revolution – but this is going to take a while. There is going to be, for a considerable amount of time, a defensive holding operation to conduct – that is, revolutionaries are going to have to manage, for what is probably long while, a more or less capitalist economy and are therefore going to find themselves subject to the constraints of ‘business confidence’.
There are other ‘political’ problems too. Why do we have any reason to believe in the likely simultaneity (given the necessarily uneven development of workers’ struggles) of revolutionary opportunity on the one hand and the existence in embryo or otherwise of a parallel state system of workers’ councils able to take on the complex functions of running a society in one fell revolutionary sweep – a coherent, integrated, experienced, well designed system of government in which the majority of people have confidence? This is asking quite a lot. Why indeed – given the traditional Leninist focus on the repressive functions of the bourgeois state – would the capitalist state allow such a thing to develop ‘under its nose’ and isn’t it asking a bit much that a rudimentary, uneven, patchy proto-worker’s state, able to evade repressive forays on the part of the state, could suddenly leap into action in a revolutionary flash?
And this is before we start to confront the problem of violence – civil war, Cheka type repression and so on. All of this might indeed flow logically and necessarily from the probable realities of revolution of the state smashing type. But that’s precisely a rather good argument in itself against the state smashing type of strategy. Have a look at Syria today and ask yourself if you want to live through something like that – if you want your kids or parents to experience that horror. It must have occurred to most socialists that this is the probable brutal accompaniment to the romantic sturm und drang of revolution and I suggest that it’s not in the end something that’s easy to live with.
But typically accounts of the likely revolutionary process are left rather vague by the proponents of such politics. There’s no shortage of revolutionary analyses of the concrete obstacles, pitfalls and dilemmas inherent in reformist politics – but very little in the way of revolutionary analyses of the concrete obstacles, pitfalls and dilemmas that a revolutionary strategy would necessarily encounter. And there’s little of this because the strategy itself is seldom, if ever, much spelt out beyond the invocation of slogans or rhetorical placeholders such as ‘the seizure of power’.
One conclusion to be drawn from this might be that, in the end, revolutionaries simply don’t have an answer to the problem of the gap between the demands of the present and the end goal. What are the steps to take to get there? How do we move from the day to day struggle to the revolution? And then (because of course the problems do not end with ‘the seizure of power’ whatever that might look like) how do we move from the revolution to the end goal? All of this is left largely unaddressed.
Perhaps there’s a deeper dimension to the problem. One that, in a sense, defines the coordinates of the impasse. It’s simply that no one knows what socialism looks like. Indeed it’s extraordinary that socialist theorists as a whole spend so little time trying to imagine what a well functioning polity and economy beyond capitalism might actually look like (and so much more time, for example, on questions of aesthetics – might this be a form of displacement?). For a while the dilemma could be avoided via a form of historical determinism of the Second International type – no need to worry about questions of transition, or in relation to the feasibility of democratic post-capitalist structures and institutions, if History would solve all these problems for us. But we don’t have the luxury of inevitablism any more.
Perhaps, indeed, no one really believes in any of this. Perhaps this general disbelief underpins and explains the evasions of reformism and revolutionism. One reason to kick the question of how to move to the end goal into the long grass is to evade having to face the problem of actually having to explain what this end goal actually is. If you keep it as a vague goal always already just out of sight over the horizon you are never forced to confront awkward questions about it. This might also explain the characteristic drawing back – not necessarily betrayal or cowardice – that governments of radical reform almost always perform once they approach a point of no return. In a sense it’s actually rather sensible, given that the alternative is a leap into the unknown in pursuit of an unknown goal that perhaps deep down no one really believes in. On the revolutionary side the disbelief is expressed in a kind of semi-millenarianism – a vision of a sudden in a flash change which is always already never quite here and which is thus always already never quite explicable.
So maybe as socialists we choose between (or are pulled between) two forms of bad faith. Maybe the whole thing is bad faith.
This raises an unpleasant possibility. Perhaps the only really honest position to take is that of a sort of disenchanted social democracy. One that is lucid and clear sighted about systemic constraints. Most social democrats, of course, are not like this at all. But might this be the only really honest position – the only one that looks the cold reality in the face and draws the necessary, unsentimental, unflinching conclusions?
Of course I don’t really think this.
I’m putting some notes together for a talk at the forthcoming Historical Materialism conference London. I’ll be speaking about Andre Gorz, Nicos Poulantzas and the question of structural reform. I plan to use this blog to post work in progress notes and drafts as I prepare the talk. I came across the following paras which were cut from a recent article about Corbyn which pretty much sum up the argument I intend to make.
It’s important to pick up on some of the wider political and strategic lessons of the current conjuncture. As we have seen, the Corbyn phenomenon is part of a broader political shift across Europe. Despite their many differences one of the key perspectives shared in common among the leftist formations that have made political headway recently – Syriza, Podemos, the Corbyn movement – is an explicit orientation on winning government power in order to implement a series of left social democratic reforms. Political formations cleaving to classical revolutionary Marxist perspectives have nowhere made any comparable advances. The clear organic dynamic of contemporary radicalization across Europe then is toward the formation of ‘left governments’ of radical reform. Like it or not we have to work with the grain of this dynamic. We’ve seen some of the inherent pitfalls and problems of this approach of course in the case of the Syriza government and the brick wall it ran into from day one. Of course we need to learn lessons from this but these can’t be to fall back on facile invocations of revolutionary slogans such as to call for the ‘smashing of the state’ (whatever that means concretely) – concepts which offer resolutions to real problems at the level of phraseology only and which, in any case, are plainly unsuccessful in winning very many people over.
Working with the grain of this contemporary political dynamic means thinking seriously about the possibilities and limits of radical ‘transitional programs’ and ‘structural reforms’ and about how a government of the left in dialectical interaction with an extra-parliamentary mass movement might be able to enact such measures in such a way that the movement from below is progressively empowered. Erik Olin Wright’s recent attempt to think through a way of combining what he calls the ‘three strategic logics of transformation’ – ‘symbiotic’, ‘interstitial’ and ‘ruptural’ – provides useful ideas in this regard. But we also need to re-examine André Gorz’s thought on ‘non reformist reforms’ and to return to some of the resources of (left) Eurocommunism which seem, to me, to have acquired a renewed relevance.
I converted the notes below into an article for Jacobin.
I’ve been attempting to write a follow up article on Corbyn for Jacobin over the past few days. It’s not been going very well for various reasons. Here are some of the key observations I want to make in bullet point form. (Obviously this need some boiling down!)
- As has been endlessly pointed out, just a few short weeks ago nobody could have predicted the groundswell of mass support that Corbyn’s leadership campaign picked up, much less the thumping majority that he achieved.
- But this goes for the radical left as much as much as for anybody else. Indeed on the day that Corbyn scraped together the nominations that he needed to meet the deadline to enter the contest I remember telling some of my students very emphatically that he didn’t stand a hope in hell of winning. How wrong I was. But it’s not just me – ‘Corbynmania’ runs counter to much (by no means all, but much) of the radical left’s analysis of labourism for the past few decades. Corbyn and the movement around him have exploded what we had taken to be settled truisms about the absolute hopelessness of any attempt to harness the Labour party as a vehicle for socialist advance.
- This calls for a significant rethink on the part of the extra Labour Party left (much of which has been reduced to the part of more or less passive onlookers as the mobilisation around Corbyn catalysed and surged ahead). At the very least it calls for a certain degree of humility on the part of the radical left. It doesn’t have all the answers. It doesn’t have very many of them. There is little more embarrassing at the moment than the sight of certain left groups chasing after the Corbyn bandwagon – racing though the dust they’ve been left behind in – while attempting to dispense cock-sure advice to the Corbynistas about what they ought to be doing.
- There’s a certain mode of political ‘intervention’ characteristic of Leninist groups – a kind of political brass neck – that involves setting out confident diagnoses in relation to the strategic and organisational weaknesses of rival formations and tendencies while remaining absurdly silent and uncritical in relation to their own evident weaknesses, silences and indeed in relation to their own evident histories of failure. There’s a lot of this about at the moment in relation to Corbnmania. But maybe they should unlearn some of that absurd overconfidence. Maybe, just maybe, there’s something to learn from the Corbynistas.
- This doesn’t mean that we were wrong about there being structural limits, or deeply embedded obstacles and pitfalls, inherent in labourism or in parliamentary reformism more broadly. Corbyn is already beginning to run up against some of these and he and the movement around him will certainly encounter more and more of these more and more forcefully as they/if they advance further. It does mean, however, that we were substantially wrong about the apparent death of social democracy, the complete marginalisation of the Labour left and so on. While Labour has not been ‘reclaimed’, some of the commanding heights of the party have been seized – for now. This is more than any of us expected. Maybe there are more surprises in store. None of us can claim in good faith to be absolutely sure about how things will develop from here.
- It was, paradoxically, the total defeat of the Labour left in the 1980s that created the conditions for Corbyn’s victory some 30 years later. The smashing of Bennism in the 1980s and process of party recomposition under the developing hegemony of the ‘modernising’ right that reached its apogee under Blair was as much about the snuffing out of democracy and the disempowerment of the membership as it was about the shift to the neoliberal centre in policy terms (indeed the former was largely the precondition for the latter). This centralisation of power led, over time, to the hollowing out of the party. The right presided over a more or less lifeless party machine – a transmission belt for neoliberal policies. But this was a shallow and brittle hegemony. When the Corbyn challenge breathed life into sections of the membership again the right found that it simply didn’t have a rooted mass base of support out in the CLPs – it didn’t have the foot soldiers to resist the Corbyn advance and was swept away with ease.
- Ed Miliband’s accession to the leadership in 2010 reflected a weakening of the right’s grip over the party in some ways, but, almost as if he was ashamed about the effrontery he’d shown in beating the right’s preferred candidate – his own brother, David – Ed Miliband thought it necessary to placate the right by giving them something that would (they and he thought) shore up their domination in future. The reform of the party electoral system (stemming from the 2014 Collins review) – in particular the introduction of OMOV and votes for supporters as well as members – was designed to dilute the power of the unions in leadership elections and thus, it was thought, guarantee that the ‘right’ candidates would be victorious in future contests. It didn’t work out that way. It was a big miscalculation. What was meant to strengthen the hold of the right over the party in fact provided a way for a candidate of the party’s ‘hard left’ to take control. Corbyn, or candidate like him, could never have won under the previous electoral college system. In more than one way then the ground for Corbyn’s shock victory was prepared by the party right over-reaching itself. In fairness, though (as pointed out above) nobody could have foreseen the great surge of political mobilisation of members and supporters that drove forward the Corbyn challenge.
- As I have pointed out elsewhere, this surge is the specific expression in England/Britain of a wider trend of political radicalisation across Europe. Whereas in other countries a radical anti-austerity mood crystallised in the form of electoral challenges from without to the established parties of social democracy, in England/Britain – no doubt because of the peculiarities of the first past the post system – it took root within the traditional party of social democracy. Indeed several commentators have pointed out that what we are seeing in the UK now isn’t any longer the slow ‘Pasokification’ of Labour but a simultaneous and rapid process of ‘Pasokification’ and ‘Syriza-ification’ – the emergence of a sort of dual power within Labour. This of course is a very unstable situation but one pregnant with opportunities. It’s also largely unprecedented.
- Nevertheless Corbyn’s position is extremely precarious. Though the hollowing out of the party over the 1980s, 90s and beyond under the hegemony of the right prepared the ground, in a nice irony of history, for the Corbyn victory this same hollowing out is also now a source of weakness for Corbyn. The Labour left as an organised body, well rooted among the structures of the party, has never been weaker than it is now. The right occupy most of the strategic positions within the institutions of the party and are well dug in. The recent influx of new members – the shock force behind Corbyn’s victory – is unlikely to change the balance of forces within established party structures in the short term.
- The Labour right is still reeling from the blow of Corbyn’s thumping majority. It’s unlikely to attempt any serious move to topple Corbyn in the short term. Corbyn’s sizeable majority over the other three leadership candidates combined provides him with a legitimacy that it’s going to be very hard for anyone to dispute openly for the time being. For all the talk in the run up to the election of a quick ‘coup’ against Corbyn in the event of his victory it’s clear, now, that this plan cannot be put into action – you can’t argue with a 59.5% share of the vote. There has also been some discussion of a spilt or defections from the right. I think this is unlikely (for now, anyway, things might change) – it would be a very high risk strategy for anyone to take and could well be career suicide for those involved. It wouldn’t look good either for the same reason that an attempted putsch wouldn’t. The much more sensible strategy would be to play a longer game – in part waiting more or less passively for Corbyn to run up against the hard limits of ‘political realities’ and for his currently mobilised support to tire and drift away, and in part a more direct low key war of attrition to grind Corbyn down and demoralise his supporters. This would play to their current key strength – almost compete domination of the party apparatuses. All they need to do is sit tight and do what they can to gradually ratchet-up the pressure on Corbyn while waiting for his supporters to get bored and fall back into political inactivity. This indeed seems to be the sort of strategy they are settling on – it’s more or less what Luke Akehurst (a key commentator from the party’s right) describes here in relation to the emerging balance of forces in the party.
- They’ll be assisted in this strategy of course by most of the media which is almost uniformly hostile to Corbyn. The tone of this hostility varies – from hysterical terror and outrage on the part of the Daily Mail to condescension toward the silly little children on the part of the inner circle of columnists at the Guardian – but it all functions in the same way. The effect of it is a constant grinding away at Corbyn and his closest allies (McDonnell in particular); force him to ‘condemn’ this or that, explain this or that, apologise for this or that, clarify this or that, keep trying to trip him up, make him look stupid incompetent, shifty. Keep him on the back foot, unbalance him, make him look like he’s permanently buffeted by ‘scandal’ (i.e. any old trivial bullshit) and not in control. Everything and anything, no matter how trivial, is worked up into a mini-scandal – not wearing a tie, not singing the national anthem, having a beard. This is going to go on and on, week in week out until Corbyn is removed, collapses… or wins the next election (at which point the real shitstorm begins). They want to grind him down to the point of exhaustion. I’ve a sneaking suspicion the intention is to give him a mental breakdown. They’ve got 5 years to do it.
- Nevertheless there’s a certain pedagogical effect to all of this. It must be an eye-opener for many of Corbyn’s newly politicised supporters to see the range of forces now lining up to oppose him in a tacit alliance – from the Tories, to most of the media, to some of the state, to most of the established Labour Party. Simplifying only slightly we can all observe an unspoken, loose, but nevertheless distinct, cross-party closing of ranks that reveals a truth about the locus of a fundamental political dividing line. It’s not Labour versus the Tories. It’s the movement around Corbyn versus everyone else including the large bulk of the Labour party. And this ‘everyone else’ commands huge power and resources. Even the most inexperienced Corbynista must now be developing a firm grasp of the sort of forces that he (and they as part of the wider movement) are up against and how difficult the fight will be. This is a good and necessary thing. Better this is grasped sooner rather than later.
- As almost all leftwing commentators are pointing out, it is imperative to maintain and to build the movement around Corbyn – this is the only real counterweight that can be deployed against the forces and pressures bearing down on Corbyn and his (very small group) of comrades within the PLP. Maintaining the momentum of the Corbyn movement is key. Much easier said than done of course.
- Much of the problem in this respect is that in order to do this – lead the Labour party within the structures of Westminster and provide a focal point around which a wider mobilised movement coheres – Corbyn is going to be pulled in two directions. In fact he’s got to make the Labour party a vehicle for something it was designed to snuff out. He’s got to run the machine (inasmuch as he can run something he doesn’t fully control) against itself. As a range of classic studies of the Labour party have shown – notably those of Ralph Miliband and David Coates – one of the major functions of the Labour party, embedded in its structural DNA, is ‘management of discontent‘ and it does this, in particular, by systematically channelling extra-parliamentary struggle into more containable and much more harmless forms. So leading Labour while simultaneously providing leadership to a wider mass movement is going to be a difficult trick to pull off to say the least.
- Obviously, much here will turn on the ability of the movement to maintain a certain critical distance and autonomy in relation to Corbyn. This, in turn, demands that the movement goes beyond Labour party members to encompass other forces and groups on the left too. It was enormously encouraging in this regard to see that Caroline Lucas of the Greens is keen to discuss electoral pacts with Corbyn in order to build what she calls a ‘progressive majority‘ alliance in Britain – although it appears that the Greens are rowing back from this now. Most groups on the radical left are keen to work with Corbyn (rather than denounce him for his reformism – for now at least). It remains to be seen whether Corbyn will reach out to these other forces. If he does so, of course, this move is likely encounter severe hostility and obstruction from the Labour right and Labour tribalists more broadly. But it’s this or slow suffocation.
- Nevertheless the radical left needs to keep things in perspective here. We are pitifully weak and we’ve been behind the curve during this whole process – as we’ve seen the Corbyn surge and victory confounded a lot of what we’ve been saying for ever about Labour and the death of social democracy and left us as more or less passive bystanders. The last thin we should do is start issuing orders to any movement around Corbyn. We aren’t the commanders.
- Much of the left will approach the business of working with a movement around Corbyn by, essentially, trying to shoehorn the whole unpredictable and largely unprecedented process into its preconceived schematic formulations. No doubt Corbyn and Corbynistas will be pigeonholed into categories of comfortingly familiar jargon (‘left reformists’) and talked down to in a more than mildly condescending and know it all manner. This will be a way of not really having to think about the concrete specifics of the current political situation and its dynamic. The Corbyn movement will be seen as a bunch of political naifs who must be won to ‘the correct revolutionary perspective’ by ‘patiently explaining’ etc and recruited also to the vanguard party of the working class (which will just happen to be the party the issuer of this proclamation belongs to, natch). But the vast bulk of the Corbynista movement is not going to join any of the existing parties. It isn’t going to happen. If there is a split in Labour or some other form of significant recomposition on the left it’s not going take the form of a mass decampment to any existing organisation. It’s going to be something new and something emerging from within the Corbynista movement itself. It will be something we will join, not something of ours they will join.
- We also need to pick up on wider political and strategic lessons. The Corbyn phenomenon is part of a broader phenomenon across Europe. What unites the formations that have made political headway recently – Syriza, Podemos, the Corbyn movement – is the conviction that the question of political power has to be confronted. That is, anti-austerity movements have to set their sights on winning government office as a necessary and central component of a wider, ambitious strategy of change.
- The organic dynamic, at work here is toward the formation of left governments of radical reform. We just have to accept this. We’ve seen the pitfalls and problems of this approach of course in the case of Syriza – the brick wall it ran into from day one. Of course we need to learn lessons from this. But these can’t be to fall back on too easy invocations of revolutionary certainty such as to call for ‘smashing the state’ (whatever that means concretely) and for the ‘seizure of power’ on the part of workers’ soviets (what workers’ soviets? Where are they? Are they down the back of the sofa?) which is a resolution of real problems at the level of phraseology only.
- Like it or not we need to think seriously about ‘transitional programmes’ and ‘transitional demands’, about the possibilities of radical reform and we need to return to re-examine the concept of ‘structural reforms’ (Gorz), Ralph Miliband’s ‘strong reformism’ and, yes, to the resources of (left) Eurocommunism.
This is an unfinished draft of a rejoinder to Paul Blackledge’s reply to my article in ISJ. I tried to write this over Easter last year and was unable to finish it off satisfactorily – I wanted, in particular, to address some of the arguments raised in Harman and Potter’s 1977 essay on “the Workers’ Government” to which Paul appeals in his reply. I planned, in particular, to criticise the strikingly instrumentalist conception of the state that Harman and Potter seem to work with and also to argue that to the extent that the strategy of ‘left opposition’ to a ‘left government’ Paul draws from this essay represents any sort of concrete elaboration of a revolutionary strategy it relies on the capacity and willingness of other socialists actually to take office so that the business of opposing them from the left can begin. There’s an odd sort of refusal or disavowal of responsibility here – which is also present I think in the SWP and Antarsya approach toward the imminent possibility of a Syriza government in Greece.
I found, however, that I was unable to complete this final part of the essay and, indeed in conjunction probably with other anxieties which hit me at the time, ran into severe problems of writer’s block. In fact, I’ve found it extremely hard to write anything – certainly nothing for publication – since. It’s partly in order to help me finally overcome this block that I’ve decided to publish this on my blog. I’m not going to finish it now, but I felt that tidying up the draft I’d written in March/April last year so that I could publish it on this site would be a step in the right direction.
One of the things which possibly contributed to my writing paralysis was that I was never quite sure if the tone of the piece was right. I should point out that Paul is a good friend of mine who has actually gone out of his way to help me with academic advice, assistance and so on several times and that if the rejoinder comes over, at times, as aggressive, emotionally piqued or finger jabbing this was not my intention.
A Rejoinder to Paul Blackledge on “Left Reformism”
I thank Paul Blackledge for his response to my criticisms of the Socialist Workers’ Party’s perspective on “left reformism” and for the comradely tone in which his reply is written. I’d like to take the opportunity to explain, here, why I don’t find Paul’s reply persuasive and to respond to some of the points that he makes about my argument.
One of the main points that I made in my previous article was that “left reformism” is used as such a broad catch-all term for, essentially, everyone and everything on the left that the SWP regards as to its own right politically except mainstream social democrats, that its analytical usefulness is highly limited. Moreover, this process of lumping together myriad diverse groups and perspectives allows for a line of argumentation in which critical focus on a “moderate” strand of “left reformism” – left social democracy – is passed off as an analysis of all strands of it, since they are all merely instances of the same thing. I argued that this approach obscured real differences between left social democrats on the one hand, and those on the left of “left reformist” organisations who want to implement transitional reforms to trigger the overthrow of capitalism. Now while Paul does make a nod or two to the “concrete differences” between perspectives he insists on corralling together under the rubric of “left reformism” his argument in his most recent piece, otherwise, remains unchanged. He simply reaffirms, that is, his earlier suggestion that there are no relevant differences of any significance between those slightly to the left of social democracy and those with a revolutionary perspective who can see a (limited) role in this process for a left government. All fail to extricate themselves from the core limitation of social democracy which, as Paul explains in detail in his previous article, is that this tradition assumes that the state is class neutral. So while I pointed out that, actually, there are strands of thought within what Paul calls “left reformism” that do, in fact, rest on an understanding of the capitalist state as, precisely, a capitalist state (and that there are people within this camp who actually agree with Paul that the capitalist nature of the capitalist state is determined in large part by the structural interdependence between state and capital) Paul’s response, essentially, is to ignore this and simply to reassert his claim that “left reformists” by definition operate on the basis of a more or less social democratic understanding of state power.
The disagreement between Paul and me, however, isn’t about whether or not there are serious constraints on state autonomy emanating from the structurally embedded power of capital. It’s a dispute about the limits of this autonomy – the extent to which it might provide a certain space for manoeuvre on the part of a left government. To the extent that Paul appears to concede that I may have grasped some inkling of the structural constraints on state power his response is merely that my analysis “profoundly underestimates the barriers to socialist advance through the existing state”. That’s it – an assertion that I am wrong.
Paul criticises me for recounting what he leaves out of his gloss on Fred Block’s approach to the state – which is that working class struggle can force state managers to introduce reforms which run counter to the interests of capital at least in the short term. This, Paul says, is “beside the point” since he (Paul) has been clear that “significant reforms” are possible. It quite obviously isn’t beside the point in this debate, however, to be clear about how Block’s account of the structural interdependence between state and capital (upon which Paul draws) allows for the possibility of the implementation not just of “significant reforms” but of definitely anti-capitalist reforms. Further, the point I make in connection with this – which Paul dismisses – that a left government made up of those with a transitional perspective would be much more likely than a pro-capitalist government to respond positively to demands for radical reforms which push against capitalist interests, follows on absolutely logically from what Block argues. In other words, I think it is pretty plain that Block’s schema is much more compatible with my defence of a left government strategy than it is with Paul’s insistence that the structural constraints on state activity mean that such a strategy is “utopian”.
What Paul needs to show in order to demonstrate his claim that the degree of state autonomy within the constraints of its structural interdependency with capital is not so expansive as to allow for the sort of approach I advocate is why if as he seems to accept state managers can, under pressure from a mass movement, implement reforms which disrupt the smooth functioning of capitalism and strengthen the working class, these reforms must always, necessarily, be limited to reforms within safe limits for the system. What is it, exactly, that prevents the introduction of reforms that break out of the bounds of the merely “significant”? Unfortunately Paul’s analysis does not confront this question.
None of what I have argued is to say that capitalism can be abolished in some unbroken series of cunning transitional reforms. There is no gradualist, reformist road to socialism. The left government strategy of revolutionary reform I draw from Andre Gorz is premised on the idea that revolution can only emerge organically from a process of struggle for reform and that a left government, in dialectical interaction with a mass movement, could be driven on to enact a series of radical anti-capitalist reforms within the constraints on state autonomy presented by the structural interdependence between state and capital – reforms which empower the mass movement and which help to create the conditions in which a revolutionary rupture really comes onto the immediate political agenda. I thought I was pretty clear about this in my article and I think Gorz is pretty clear about it too in the writings from which I draw this approach. Nevertheless Paul manages to find a way of presenting the Gorz of Socialism and Revolution – beneath all his theoretical and rhetorical sophisms presumably (this is what Paul implies his 1970s and 80s followers “who were looking to give some leftist theoretical weight to what was in effect their reformist practice” found of value in his work) – as the purveyor of a classically reformist idea. That is, according to Paul, Gorz promoted the view that the state could implement a series of “irreversible” reforms. Gorz, then seems to become the champion of a sort of updated Fabian inevitability of gradualism with added rhetorical bells and whistles in which socialism is approached in a relentless, irresistible, forward march. But this just isn’t my reading of Gorz at all. In fact Gorz is perfectly clear in the work from which I draw that there is no such thing as an irreversible reform. He writes, for example:
There are no anti-capitalist institutions or gains which, in the long term, are not nibbled away, distorted, reabsorbed into the system, completely or partially emptied of their substance, if the imbalance which they originally created is not promptly exploited by further advances.
Thus he is clear that:
a socialist strategy of reforms must aim at disrupting the system and taking advantage of its disruption to embark on the revolutionary process of transition to socialism, which… can only be carried out by striking while the iron is hot. This kind of strategy can be effective only in periods of flux and open conflict and far-reaching social and political upheaval.
Gorz’s approach, then quite simply isn’t a gradualist strategy of long, drawn-out change by means of “irreversible” reforms.
Paul’s odd reading of Gorz, however, doesn’t stop here. According to Paul he was also it seems, in effect, a proponent of the 1970s social contract. At least this appears to be what Paul is saying when he writes that Gorz’s approach, if it had worked, “would have seen the local variations on the social contract implemented across Europe in the 1970s act as stepping stones to socialism”. Now the above quotation, of course, rather suggests that Gorz’s strategy entails nothing of the kind – he envisages a process of sharpening class conflict and disruption of the system rather than any sort of pact between capital and labour.
While Paul is eager to dismiss the notion of a left government strategy of structural reform as so much “rhetoric”, there is very little, if anything, in his article – or for that matter in any of the various pieces that have emerged from the SWP as part of this debate – in the way of critical reflection in relation to his own tradition. As I pointed out in my first article for this journal I have been clear, from the start, that a left government strategy would involve serious risks and encounter major problems and dilemmas along the way. SWP critics, indeed, have identified many of these inherent risks, problems and dilemmas. I quite openly admit not just that there can, of course, be no guarantee of success, but that the likelihood of success for any given attempt is probably quite low. Further, I am not even certain that a left government strategy could succeed. It is quite beyond me, however, how anyone can be absolutely certain that any given strategy for socialism would or could be successful, though Paul and his co-thinkers often give the impression that, somehow, they are. At least (as again I indicate in my previous article) they never seem to indicate a single difficulty inherent in the Leninist approach they seek to affirm. Paul is, again, completely silent on this matter in his response to me. Surely, however, there must be some risks, gambles and unavoidable dilemmas intrinsic to the SWP’s conception of revolutionary strategy.
It’s worth emphasising how odd this almost total absence of critical reflection in relation to the Leninist dual power strategy looks. As pointed out before, Leninist ideas have never won anything like mass support in an “advanced” capitalist country and Leninist groups today are no less socially and politically marginal than most other radical left formations – yet, typically, this does not seem to have fed through into any sense of humility. It doesn’t seem to stop Paul and others dispensing advice to everyone else with an air of incredible confidence and certainty.
However, it’s not just that Paul and his comrades are completely silent in relation to the potential weaknesses of their own strategic approach, it’s that they never really spell out what it is. The SWP’s conception of the transition to socialism remains remarkably mysterious throughout this debate. Of course we know a little about the dual power strategy they envisage – but not that much. This lends itself to a rather facile style of argument in which a relatively concrete strategy is found wanting in relation to a shadowy superior alternative. But, of course, given that this alternative is never filled-out with much substance, this apparent superiority is never satisfactorily demonstrated – it’s simply assumed. Further, you can’t help suspecting that this assumption of superiority is dependent on the very vagueness of the proposals – if Paul was to fill out his strategy as concretely as the one he criticises he might well find that his favoured approach is likely to run into similar difficulties or problems of comparable weight.
As I pointed out in my previous article one of the weaknesses of the Leninist strategy – and this is where its vagueness is most apparent – is that it seems incapable of providing any concrete account of how a revolutionary situation emerges from day to day working struggles in the here and now. It is true that Paul makes a few hand-waving comments here and there such as his remark that “the experience of collective struggles for reforms creates a space within which participants can begin to recognise their own power to fight for more radical, indeed revolutionary change” – but this amounts to little more than a leftist truism. I would be extremely surprised if any of the “left reformists” Paul thinks he is taking on here disagreed with it in the slightest. The point of difference with Paul is that “left reformists”, on the whole, are willing and able to offer a relatively clear account of how this process might unfold. Paul, by contrast, does not provide the slightest indication of how a situation of dual power comes about. Indeed, it is worth pointing out, in this regard, that three years of struggle in Greece involving numerous mass general strikes has not thrown up soviet organs – let alone a situation of dual power. What it has thrown up is a situation in which a “left reformist” party is on the verge of forming a left government. Sadly Paul and his comrades are unable to grasp the possibilities inherent in the struggles in Greece as they are concretely unfolding and prefer to hold out for some mysterious deus-ex-machina in which soviet power suddenly springs from nowhere.
To the extent that the SWP has attempted to provide its conception of strategy with some degree of concrete elaboration it has tended, as I pointed out in my previous piece, to draw on the idea of transitional demands. But as I also pointed out this raises an important question of agency. We know that a mass movement makes these demands – but upon whom are these demands to be made? The whole transitional demands approach seems, tacitly, to rely on the coming to power of a left government. Paul’s response that my “argument confuses an approach which involves making demands on the state with one that reduces socialism to a statist political project” doesn’t address my point. Quite aside from the fact that it is not entirely clear why the implementation of transitional demands by a left government should imply a more “statist” approach than the implementation of those same demands by a pro-capitalist government, Paul’s response simply evades the key issue – why on earth should we expect a pro-capitalist government to implement a programme of radical reforms that seriously undermine the interests of capital? Wouldn’t a left government – under pressure from a mass movement, driving it on – be much, much more likely to engage in such a process? Paul appears to be in the odd position of arguing that while a pro-capitalist government can be pressured to enact far-reaching reforms that galvanise a revolutionary challenge to capitalism, a left government can offer nothing but obstruction and betrayal.
Blackledge, Paul, 2013, “Left Reformism, the State and the Problem of Socialist Politics Today”, International Socialism 139 (summer), www.isj.org.uk/index.php4?id=903&issue=139
Blackledge, Paul, 2014, “Once More on Left Reformism: a Reply to Ed Rooksby”, International Socialism 141 (winter) http://www.isj.org.uk/index.php4?id=953&issue=141
Block, Fred, 1987, Revising State Theory: Essays in Politics and Postindustrialism (Temple University Press).
Gorz, André, 1975, Socialism and Revolution (Allen Lane).
Molyneux, John, 2013a, “Understanding Left Reformism”, Irish Marxist Review, volume 2, number 6, www.irishmarxistreview.net/index.php/imr/article/view/68/70
Rooksby, Ed, 2013 “’Left Reformism’ and Socialist Strategy”, International Socialism 140 (autumn) http://www.isj.org.uk/?id=913
Thomas, Mark L., 2013, “Which Strategy for the Left?”, Socialist Review (June), www.socialistreview.org.uk/article.php?articlenumber=12326
 Blackledge, 2014
 Rooksby, 2013
 See Blackledge, 2013, Molyneux, 2013, and Thomas, 2013
 Blackledge, 2014
 Block, 1987
 Blackledge 2014
 Gorz, 1975: 150
 Gorz, 1975: 149
 Blackledge, 2014
 Blackledge, 2014