Mass Struggle, Workers Councils, and “Vanguardism”

The “Yellow Vest” protests in Commercy are calling for the building of popular committees to guide the struggle.  This tells us, if we didn’t already know, that they’re serious.

In a Facebook discussion, I got into a mild disagreement with someone who opposed “vangurdism.” I’ve been thinking about it ever since, so I want to get my thoughts down. Between those who already know more about the subject than I do and those who don’t care, I figure maybe three people might be interested, but, since I’m one, here we go.

The issue of building a revolutionary leadership within the working class is often (including by me, I’m afraid) posed as a complete abstraction. There is this thing called “the leadership” and somehow it gains leadership of “the masses” and when considering this, people concerned with revolutionary politics argue about is this a good thing or a bad thing and what are the possible problems and so on, and none of it has anything to do with reality.

When large sections of the working class begin to move, whether in mass protests such as we’re seeing in France, or a general strike such as we saw in Minneapolis and San Francisco in the 30s, or a revolutionary struggle (often emerging from one of the others) such as in Russia, one of the first things that happens is the creation of steering committees in some form. These are democratically elected representatives of the working classes that have the job of making tactical decisions that can’t wait for mass votes, and strategic recommendations. These organs occur spontaneously. because it quickly becomes obvious to those involved in such mass actions that without them a serious struggle is impossible. We’re already seeing the seeds of this in France, as I mentioned above.   The exact forms vary, but they usually feature immediate recall for any representative who fails to represent, a vital feature in a social struggle where both objective circumstances and the the consciousness of the masses change so quickly.

In the Russian Revolution of 1905, these spontaneous organizations were called “workers councils,” or “councils,” the Russian word being “soviet.” These same organs occurred in Germany in 1918, in Spain, in Italy, and even appeared in Hungary in 1956, and many other places. When an insurrection takes place (Russia 1917, Germany 1918, &c) these fighting organs quickly and naturally become organs of government.

Above, I made mention of tactical decisions and strategic recommendations (two things that aren’t as distinct as I’m making them sound). Those are the key. These leadership organs negotiate with the enemy as appropriate, consider offers, compromises, decide when a protest should and should not take place, and where, and if it should be armed, when to advance, when to retreat, how to approach winning over the army, and so on. These organs are trusted by the workers, because they were created by the workers.

A bad decision can be catastrophic to the entire struggle. And making good decisions is very difficult—it requires a solid understanding of the mood of the masses at any given moment, the ability to evaluate the strength of the enemy, a deep commitment to the cause, and a clear understanding of the goal to be achieved (even if, in the inevitable confusion of such struggles, the steps to reach that goal are unclear).

For those of us who believe such struggles are inevitable, the question is how to prepare for them. Marxism is not, the opinions of thousands of academics to the contrary, a set of precepts to be used in making passive criticisms of the status quo.  Marxism is the science of revolution; that is, the science that provides the tools to evaluate the questions posed during a revolutionary struggle. The revolutionary party is the laboratory of revolution, where those who understand the inevitability of such conflicts test ideas and prepare. The revolutionary party enters working class struggles with a program and a clear idea of the goal. It is constantly fighting within the working class for its ideas, to spread its understanding, to find the most advanced, class conscious workers and work with them to prepare for what will happen.

As the mass struggle erupts, the revolutionary party then fights to win these leadership positions, having built a solid base within the working class. The October Revolution of 1917 happened when the Bolshevik Party won a majority in the Soviet. The Minneapolis General Drivers strike was successful because it was Marxists, Trotskyists, who were elected to leadership positions. The German Revolution of 1918 was defeated because the infant Communist Party was unable to win the leadership of the soviets from the rotten Social Democrats, who handed power back to the bourgeoisie.

Thus, what some call “vanguardism” is nothing more than preparing within the working class for the conflicts to come, and attempting to win broader and broader sections of workers to the party, and fighting for socialist consciousness against the coming upsurge, so it will be carried to a successful conclusion. There is nothing in the least undemocratic about it, on the contrary, it takes place in the most democratic, most truly representative political form yet devised.

The revolutionary party and the revolutionary class are not separate and distinct entities, the way some people (as I said, including me) sometimes talk about them.  The revolutionary party is that section of the revolutionary class that has most consciously prepared for mass struggles.  The fight for leadership of the organs of struggle of the masses to carry them to a successful conclusion is the task of the revolutionary party.

Sixteen Credits

Co-written with Mark Hall

Some people say a man is made out of gore
Well a student is just a credit score
A credit score and a mind that’s spry
A future that’s bleak, and a bank that’s dry

You take sixteen creds and what do you get?
Nearer your degree and deeper in debt
St. Peter don’t you call me cuz I must stay
I owe my soul to Sallie Mae

Enrolled one morning, it was drizlin rain
“Get a degree” was the school’s refrain
Should I study English, or should it be Math?
Decades of debt was the only path.

You take sixteen creds….

I enrolled one morning I was at an impasse
Picked up my laptop and I walked into class
I took sixteen creds based on aptitude
And the T.A. said, “Well son, you’re screwed.”

You take sixteen creds…

This job pays just $8.95
It ain’t enough to keep a man alive
I can’t rent a roof to stop the wet
‘Cause $5.50 of that goes to service my debt

You take sixteen creds….

If you see me coming just say hello
I’m working a job that don’t pay what I owe
I earned a liberal arts degree
And all it got me was bankruptcy

You take sixteen creds….

 

 

(Yeah, there are scansion problems, I know. Suggestions welcome.)

On “tolerating” and learning from opposing ideas

Following a tweet I made about when I will and will not “tolerate” opposing ideas (note: need to figure how to automagically get my tweets to appear here on my blog) I got another one of those things about, “you tolerate opposing ideas to learn from them.” I’ve been wrestling for a long time about how to express why that bugs me. It isn’t that I won’t listen to opposing ideas, and, if the ideas are fundamentally on the same side I am, that is, the fight for equality, but express a different way of fighting for them, I will, indeed, listen and consider, and possibly change my mind. For example, I had some discussion with various comrades about the social basis of the Black Lives Matter movement, and ended up reconsidering my position (and, no, I won’t go into detail here; that isn’t what this post is about).
 
My point is, the expression I quoted at the top separates ideas from the struggle, it gives the impression the entire conflict either takes place in the realm of ideas, or that ideas exist apart from our activity. We know from our own experience this isn’t the case; our ideas drive our activity, and we change our ideas in response to our experiences (though sometimes it takes a two-by-four to get through). Indeed, ideas, even incorrect ideas, are nothing more than reflections in the mind of our interactions with the objective world (yes, even higher mathematics, but that, too, we can argue elsewhere).
 
All of that is very abstract and even abstruse. Forgive me, that’s part of the process of me working this out. I think I can express it more simply:
 
What matters to me is the struggle, the fight for human equality in the objective world. That is what I’m committed to. Let me repeat: committed. Ideas, particularly ideas related to that struggle, are how I direct my activity. So I will consider learning from ideas to the degree that they might change my activity in how I carry out that struggle, but I have no intention of listening to ideas about why I shouldn’t.

On Patreon and Life (Yes, and Socialism)

Some time ago a combination of medical bills, veterinary bills, delayed payments from my publisher, and financial mismanagement landed me in a horrible position.  I woke up in the morning terrified about not being able to afford food (or, worse, tobacco), and spent most of the day trying to put it out of my head, with as much success as you’d guess.   I was over a year behind on rent, which would have been worse if I didn’t have the World’s Most Understanding Landlord, but it weighed on me all the same.

Eventually, Jennifer Slaugh wore me down and convinced me to start a Patreon—just the kind of thing that is naturally difficult for a Minnesotan.

The response was humbling; it seemed there were a lot of people who wanted to help me.  And help me they did.  In a fairly short time, there was enough pledged to make a huge difference in my life.  The day I pulled in that money, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I mean, seriously–that day, I sat down and words started tumbling out of my fingertips.  I was no longer terrified.  I could sit there, relax, groove, and just do what I wanted, which was write, which was tell stories.  My gratitude to those who have supported me is too great to express, and I can only hope that the work I do going forward will please them enough for their sacrifice to feel justified.

I am telling you this now for a particular reason.  I was talking to Will Shetterly, relating the story to him in reference to the Patreon that he’s started, and he pointed out something that hadn’t occurred to me: For many of us—I would even think most of us, perhaps nearly all of us–we do not work better because we are terrified about not having enough; on the contrary, many of us work better when we don’t have to fear for our basic necessities, when money is not an issue, or at least not a pressing one.  This is certainly true when our work is not “toil,” that is, the sort of mind-numbing body-killing, soul-destroying labor that provides a paycheck but little or no satisfaction—the kind of work that in a rational society would either be done by machine or not done at all.  For those of us fortunate enough to make a living doing something that gives us satisfaction, it’s different.  I have been much, much more productive since the fear of being broke has been removed.

I am not saying this to ask you to support my Patreon.  On the contrary, right now, I have what I need to keep going, and not be scared, and that’s all I can ask for.  If you’re going to support someone, consider supporting Will, because I, like all right-thinking people, want to see more of his fiction.  I’m saying that those who think people (and they always seem to mean “other people”) have be kept in a state of financial terror or they won’t do anything are, not to put too fine a point on it, full of crap.

Some Things I’ve Learned in 50 Years of Politics

I mentioned on Twitter and Facebook that this year marks 50 years since I began my political activity and study. Steven Patten on Facebook asked what I’ve learned in that time, which is a fascinating question that’s been buzzing around in my head ever since. Here are some answers:
 
  • To study nuance, to go after detail, to dig deeper, to be suspicious when I think I finally understand something complex.
  • How impossible it is to the separate the pieces: philosophy, economics, history, news, politics. Every time I try to focus on one, it keeps leading me into another.
  • To look critically at the SEP’s positions rather than accepting them blindly, and yet, after doing so, I nearly always end up agreeing. (It took a year of beating my head against the wall attending protests to come around on #BLM, and I’m still not quite 100% about their position on trade unionism in the abstract, but they’re certainly right in the specifics of unions today).
  • I’m still learning to avoid the glib in favor of serious analysis; I screw that one up more than I should.
  • I’ve learned I’ll never make a really good communist because I have too much Kamenev and too little Trotsky in me, and, above all, because I’m lazy–the hard part involves detailed study and research, rather than repetition of abstractions and slogans. I do that when I’m writing and can only rarely get myself to do that kind of work politically.
  • I’ve learned that it is utterly pointless to argue with hardened reactionaries, unless there is a good opportunity to use the argument to advance my own positions in a positive way for lurkers.
  • I’ve learned that discussions on Facebook and on my blog are not, in fact, the waste of time I’d once considered them. There are people here searching for answers, and there is additional value in sharpening my own understanding.
  • Marxists are very good at Who, What, How, and Why, but really suck at When (at least, when talking about the future).
  • I’m still learning to patiently explain rather than letting myself get frustrated, and that anyone genuinely looking for a way forward is deserving of the time it takes to explain. Working on that one.

Anyway, that’s some of it.  And that is certainly enough time spent on personal reflection.  Back to the fight!