Thursday, January 06, 2022

How the British state came to see Militant as a ‘subversive threat’

STEVE JONES 06 JAN 2022

A new study has revealed how the British secret services took covert action against Trotskyist groups, in particular the Militant, which they regarded as a threat. This should serve as a warning to activists today not to be complacent.

In the post-war period, MI5 (the British state’s internal security agency) paid little attention to the activities of Trotskyists in Britain, regarding the threat that they posed to be minimal. But the rise of the Militant in the 1970s and 1980s – a tightly organised, professional and theoretically trained organisation founded by Ted Grant – completely transformed the Secret Services’ perception of Trotskyism.

For the first time, it came to regard it as a serious subversive threat. Today, the best traditions of Trotskyism and the Militant are alive and growing in the International Marxist Tendency.

There can be little doubt that the British state has had a long and disreputable history of spying on – and attempting to undermine – the labour and trade union movement.

In particular, radical campaigning organisations have been targeted by bodies such as the police and MI5 over the years, often to the point of illegality.

The ‘spy cops’ revelations showed how undercover police officers have infiltrated various campaigns, often remaining hidden for years. These spies often acted as agent provocateurs, pushing activists to carry out acts for which arrests could be made.

Now a new academic study by George Kassimeris and Oliver Price, published by the journal Contemporary British History, takes a closer look at how the state sought to take covert action against Trotskyist groups in Britain, and in particular the Militant.

The first part of the study outlines the basic history of British Trotskyism from 1937 onwards – mainly drawn, it must be said, from old and not always totally reliable source books.

Readers wanting a more accurate history should go to History of British Trotskyism by Ted Grant and The Permanent Revolutionary by Alan Woods, both published by Wellred Books.
Informers and infiltrators



During the Second World War, the state did carry out an investigation in 1944 of the Trotskyist Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP) to see if it posed a threat to the war effort. Attempts were made to recruit informers and infiltrate RCP meetings, with little success it should be noted.

The state was particularly concerned on account of the fact that in the midst of World War Two, all the main parties were in a wartime coalition.

On the left, the Communist Party was under orders from Moscow to support the Churchill cabinet. It played a despicable role in breaking strikes of workers, who it argued must subordinate their interests to the bosses in order to win the war. The RCP was left as the only opposition party in the whole of Britain.

MI5 noted that in the course of the war, the Trotskyists evolved from “an unimportant handful of talkers” in 1940 to become “a disciplined body of some size, having programme, finance and organisation and the determination to use them” by 1945.

The agency was particularly interested in the WIL, led by Ted Grant and Jock Haston and which would become the core of the RCP. They were particularly interested in its ‘armed forces work’.

MI5 was particularly concerned when the RCP was formed, noting that this was the first time a Trotskyist organisation’s name “began to be heard outside its own slummy basement rooms”.

No action was taken, however, despite the complaints from His Majesty’s Loyal Communist Party. And, indeed, after the fragmentation of the RCP following the war, the various left groups linked to Trotskyism were pretty much ignored from then on until the emergence of the Militant tendency.

It was understandable that the secret services should regard Trotskyism now as a diminished threat. With the post-war boom and the strengthening of reformism and consensus politics, the RCP soon fell apart into various factions – most, with the exception of Ted Grant’s group, having little connection to reality.

The difficult conditions of the period meant that it was difficult to get a foothold. Social peace seemed to be the order of the day.

This changed with the rise of the anti-Vietnam war campaign in 1968. The Labour government was sufficiently concerned about this wave of youth radicalism to set up a special section of the police – the Special Demonstration Squad (SDS, later becoming Special Branch) – to keep track of what was going on.

Spies targeted the Vietnam Solidarity Campaign; although they later concluded that the government's fears had been overstated: “Despite the impact the Trotskyists were able to have on the protest movement [against the Vietnam War], MI5 believed that its influence was always going to be limited because the Trotskyist movement was so divided.”

But the state would soon find that it had severely underestimated the Trotskyists.
Militant tendency



By the mid-1970s, the attention of the state had turned to the Labour Party and the trade unions.

The old consensus politics of the post-war boom had long gone; and a growing left presence in the movement had alerted the state to the potential dangers of a radical shift inside the mass organisations of the working class. A right-wing Labour Party was fine, but a left-moving one was cause for concern.

An MI5 investigation in 1975 conducted a “wide-ranging investigation” into “the extent of subversive infiltration and influence in the Labour Party”; and at this point, the secret services picked up on the growing strength of the Militant tendency.

The secret services were alarmed at the growing influence of Militant inside the Labour Party:


“Trotskyist ‘entrism’ … in CLPs [Constituency Labour Parties] presents a direct threat to some MPs and thus to the Parliamentary Labour Party’s ability to resist subversive pressures upon and within the Party as a whole.”

It estimated that there was Trotskyist influence in 9 CLPs in which the sitting Labour MP was at risk, and in another 67 CLPs there was some degree of Trotskyist influence. Kassimeris and Price conclude, significantly:


“For the first time, … MI5 believed that Trotskyism posed a significant danger, not only to an established political party but, since Labour was in government at the time, potentially to the British state.”

In 1976, the Home Secretary under right-wing Labour Prime Minister, James Callaghan, personally requested information from the Director General of MI5 concerning Trotskyist penetration into the party.

MI5 assessed the base that Militant had, and noted that the Labour bureaucracy did not seem capable of dealing with it. They noted that Militant was quite unlike any of the other far-left groups – it was a disciplined Bolshevik organisation, with a serious approach to the mass movement and to Marxist theory:


“Militant was able to develop and gain significant influence not only due to the lax disciplinary procedures in the Labour Party, but also because of the dedication of its members and its strong internal discipline—a characteristic which most other Trotskyist groups had lacked.”

The Labour government continued to push for more information, and spies were sent in to monitor Militant conferences. Famously, at one event, two agents ended up having to hide behind a partition from early morning to late evening to record the day’s discussions. According to one of those Special Branch officers:


“We crept in, into the little cubby hole at 8 o’clock in the morning with a bucket to cater for our needs, and we stayed there until all the delegates had left, after nearly 7 o’clock at night, and we recorded the proceedings on a small, Swiss high tech tape recorder provided by MI5 for us … We were that near to people standing at the back of the hall and just the width of a small, thin wooden partition, looking through a peep hole.”

Both the security services and Special Branch sent in infiltrators, sometimes unaware of each other’s presence. Around 30 informers were recruited.

This surveillance extended to the use of agents to spy on Militant supporters Dave Nellist and Terry Fields, who were elected as Labour MPs for Coventry South East and Liverpool Broadgreen respectively in 1983. Indeed, an agent was sent into Coventry Labour Party to monitor Nellist and was “instructed to ‘cultivate’ Nellist, and developed a close relationship with him, ‘helping him with a lot of things’ and ‘going around with him to a lot of meetings’.”
Proscription and the Poll Tax

The study claims that although the state continued to monitor the actions of Militant, and in particular those Militant supporters who had become Labour MPs, interest waned after the mid-1980s as Militant declined.

For some reason, the study’s authors seem to think that this was all down to Labour taking action against Militant. The tendency was officially proscribed from the party, with Kinnock making his infamous speech at the Labour conference against the Militant-led Liverpool City Council.

In fact, the Labour right wing’s attacks did not have anything like the detrimental impact on the Militant’s influence that is claimed. Militant moved on to play a leading role in the anti-poll tax campaign, which would ultimately help to bring down Thatcher.
Civil service



The state was not just interested in Militant and the Labour Party, however. By the 1980s, concerns were being raised about what was happening in the civil service and its main trade union at the time, the CPSA (part of what today forms the PCS union).

The public sector had changed dramatically over the previous few decades. The bowler-hat brigade had been replaced by a new layer of employees, who were mostly much younger and from more working-class backgrounds.

As such, inevitably, people with more left-wing views now found themselves working inside the civil service.

A vetting system had always existed inside the state, mainly to stop Communist Party members and the like getting anywhere near sensitive information. But left-wing shifts inside the CPSA flagged up that the Militant could now pose a threat inside the state machine. In the words of Kassimeris and Price, this was a cause of “significant unease” for the Security Service.

Cabinet secretary Sir Robert Armstrong warned a meeting of top civil servants that Militant was a threat to “the effective operation of government”.

When a strike broke out at the Department of Health and Social Security (DHSS) in Newcastle in 1984, MI5 demanded the department give it a report on Militant activities in the branch. It found that one-third of the union representatives who had facility time were probably Militant activists.

Another top civil servant, Sir Kenneth Stowe, warned in November 1984 that Thatcher’s policies were creating a radical mood inside the CPSA, which was undermining the old right-wing leadership.

So it was that Sir Robert Armstrong commissioned in early 1985 a full report into leftist groups inside the civil service. 284 people were identified as Militant supporters – although the real figure was believed to be higher. Again the report picked Militant for particular mention:


“Militant members were considered a greater threat than other Trotskyists in the Civil Service due to their organisational capabilities and their stronghold in some Civil Service unions. In 1986, a Militant member, John Macreadie, was elected general secretary of the CPSA.”

Armstrong reported to Thatcher that the Militant threat was serious, and that new covert procedures should be put into effect. Thatcher personally signed off on the report’s recommendations, advising senior civil servants to “be very ready to sack subversive troublemakers if they showed any cause under the Civil Service rules”.

As a result, many left-wing civil servants found themselves being moved to less sensitive positions, or were simply blocked from taking up jobs without being told why.
Power and privileges

The study concludes by emphasising that the state considered Militant to be a real threat to the status quo. They understood that Militant’s base and orientation towards the labour and trade movement made them a danger unlike any other group. In the words of Kassimeris and Price:


“Militant Tendency fundamentally changed the way in which British intelligence agencies perceived Trotskyism. For the first time in nearly half a century of investigating the Trotskyist movement, the Secret Services came to believe that a Trotskyist group had the potential to pose a significant subversive threat to Britain.

“Militant was different from other Trotskyist groups partly because it had been able to gain a significant power-base thanks to the lenient Labour Party discipline procedures which had previously prevented the far left from entering the party. Militant, unlike previous Trotskyist movements, maintained discipline and unity – a key to its success.

“… For the first time, Trotskyists were specifically targeted, under an informal ‘purge’ procedure that had long prevented Communists from working in certain Civil Service jobs.

“… MI5’s definition of subversion, adopted in 1972 was: ‘activities threatening the safety or well-being of the State and intended to undermine or overthrow Parliamentary democracy by political, industrial or violent means’. During the late 1970s and early 1980s, Militant was the first and, so far, only Trotskyist organisation that both fitted this definition and was perceived to pose a genuine threat to security.”

The long-held belief that genuine Marxist ideas could never actually pose a threat was changed forever by the progress of Militant.

Four decades on, it is tempting to treat this as just a story belonging to the history books. Militant shot itself in the foot with its ultra-left turn in 1991, and declined thereafter. Instead, the genuine ideas and methods of Marxism are today represented by Socialist Appeal, which in 1992 broke with Militant.

Yet, as the ‘spy cops’ scandal shows, the police have continued to infiltrate left groups. Both MI5 and Special Branch have not gone away. Under conditions of economic and political crisis, they will again concentrate their energies on Marxists and militant activists in the movement.

This is a warning not to be complacent. The state, in the final analysis, will always act in the interests of the ruling class. As this account shows, they will go to any length – legal or otherwise – to defend the capitalist system, and the power, privileges, and profits of those at its top

 BUILDING PARTIES

Socialist strategy and the party

THURSDAY 2 SEPTEMBER 2021, BY GILBERT ACHCAR

Below is the transcript of a talk titled “Marxism, socialist strategy, and the party” by Gilbert Achcar, which was delivered to the South African initiative, Dialogues for an Anti-capitalist Future. Here, Achcar traces conceptions of the party from Marx to the present and its implications for socialist strategy today. This transcript has been revised, edited and completed by Gilbert Achcar. The original video recording of the talk can be found here.

Thank you for inviting me to address this meeting. It’s a great opportunity for me to discuss these issues with comrades from Africa, the continent where I was born and raised as a native of Senegal.

The topic defined by the organizers is quite broad: “Marxism, socialist strategy, and the party.” These topics are all in the singular, although they cover a plurality of cases and a wide variety of situations. There are many “Marxisms,” as everyone knows, each brand believing it is the only real, authentic one. And there are certainly many possible socialist strategies, since strategies are normally elaborated according to each country’s concrete circumstances. There can’t be a global socialist strategy that would be the same everywhere and anywhere. Likewise, I would say, there is no single conception of the party that is valid for every time and country. Strategic and organizational issues must be related to local circumstances. Otherwise, you get what Leon Trotsky aptly called “bureaucratically abstract internationalism,” and that always proves very sterile. Let us bear this in mind.

I will discuss a few conceptions that were developed in the course of Marxism’s history since our discussion adheres to a Marxist framework. And I’ll try to reach a few conclusions drawing lessons from the now long experience of Marxism.

Marx and Engels, the Communist Manifesto, and the First International

We may date the birth of Marxism as a combined theoretical and practical political orientation back to the Manifesto of the Communist Party that came out in 1848. That’s a long history, which compels us to reflect upon the huge change in conditions between our present twenty-first century and the time when Marxism was born. Marx and Engels did show a lot of flexibility from the very beginning, however, starting with this founding document of Marxism as a political movement. The section on the communists’ relation to the other working-class parties is well known, and quite important and interesting because it frames the kind of political thinking related to the emerging Marxist theory, which was still in its very initial phase. It is an early expression of the Marxist perspective and, as such, it is not perfect, to be sure. But it is a very important historical document in drawing out a new global political perspective. Conceived as a political “manifesto,” it is very much related to action.

In it, we read those famous lines, “In what relation do the communists stand to the proletarians as a whole? The communists do not form a separate party opposed to the other working-class parties.” This, of course, isn’t to say that the communists do not form a party of their own, since the document’s title itself is Manifesto of the Communist Party. In fact, a more accurate translation of the German original would have been: “The communists are no special party compared to the other working-class parties.” (“Die Kommunisten sind keine besondere Partei gegenüber den andern Arbeiterparteien.”) What is actually emphasized here is that the Communist Party is not different from the other parties of the working class. As for what is meant by “other working-class parties,” this is clarified a few lines later, but the idea that the communists are not “opposed” to them is explained right after.

“They,” the communists that is, “have no interests separate and apart from those of the proletariat as a whole.” In other words, the communists do not form a peculiar sect with its own agenda. They fight for the interests of the entire proletarian class. They are an integral part of the proletariat and fight for its class interests, not for interests of their own. That’s a very important issue, indeed, because we know from history that many working-class parties came to be detached, as blocks of particular interests, from the class as a whole. History is full of such instances.

So, the communists have no interest separate and apart from those of the proletariat as a whole. No sectarian principles of their own, which would be separate from the aspirations of the class. What is distinctive then about the communists? “They are distinguished from the other working-class parties by this only”—two points follow:

1. The internationalist perspective or the understanding that, “In the national struggles of the proletarians of different countries, [the communists] point out and bring to the front the common interests of the entire proletariat.” This idea of the proletariat as a global class with interests that are independent of nationality (“von der Nationalität unabhängigen Interessen”) is a distinguishing feature of the communists in the Manifesto.

2. The pursuit of the ultimate goal of the working-class struggle, which is the transformation of society and the abolition of capitalism and class division. In the various stages of the struggle against the bourgeoisie, the communists represent this long-term perspective. They always keep in mind the ultimate goal, and never lose sight of it by getting bogged down in sectional struggles or partial demands.

These are the two distinctive features of the communists as a section of the working class, as a group or party within the working class, fighting for the interests of the whole class. This bears both practical and theoretical implications. On the practical level, the communists constitute “the most advanced and resolute section of the working-class parties of every country.” They are the most resolute in political practice in that they always push the movement forward, toward further radicalization. On the theoretical level, thanks to their analytical perspective, the communists have a broad, comprehensive understanding of the various struggles. That’s at least the role they wish to play.

“The immediate aim of the communists is the same as that of all other proletarian parties.” This renewed emphasis on commonality is important, the idea that we, the communists—and that’s Marx and Engels writing here—are but one of the proletarian parties, not the only proletarian party. The sectarian claim to constitute the only party of the working class and that no other party represents the class is definitely not the conception that is upheld here.

And what is the immediate aim of the communists that is shared with the other proletarian parties? It is a good indication of what Marx and Engels meant by other proletarian parties. That aim is “the formation of the proletariat into a class, the overthrow of the bourgeois supremacy, and the conquest of political power by the proletariat.” These goals define what the two authors meant by proletarian parties. And they shed light onto the initial sentence that says that “the communists do not form a separate party opposed to the other working-class parties” (or a special party compared to the others). By working-class parties, Marx and Engels meant all parties that fight for these goals: the political formation of the class, the overthrow of bourgeois rule, and the conquest of political power by the proletariat.

Beyond this, what the political biography and writings of Marx and Engels clearly show is that they held no general theory of the party; they were not interested in elaborating such a general theory. I believe that it is because of the point I started with: that the party is a tool for the class struggle, for the revolutionary struggle, and this tool must be adapted to different circumstances. There can’t be a general conception of the party, valid for all times and countries. The class party is not a religious sect patterned on the same model worldwide. It is an instrument for action that must fit the concrete circumstances of each time and country.

This adaptation to actual circumstances was constantly at work in Marx’s and Engels’s political history, from their early political engagement with a group that they quickly found to be too sectarian—a group that was closer to the Blanquist perspective—to the more elaborate view that they expressed in 1850 in light of the revolutionary wave that Europe had witnessed in 1848. In a famous text focused on Germany, the Address of the Central Committee to the Communist League, the two friends described the communists as implementing exactly the approach that they had outlined in the Communist Manifesto, striving to push forward the revolutionary process and advocating the organization of the proletariat separately from other classes.

For this purpose, they called for the formation of workers’ clubs. They had in mind the precedent of the French Revolution, in which political clubs such as the Jacobins were key actors. They advocated the same for Germany in 1850, but this time as proletarian clubs (forming what we would call today a mass party) whose tactic should consist in constantly outbidding the bourgeois or petite-bourgeois democrats. The proletarian party should do so in order to push the revolutionary process forward, turning it into a continuous process: “permanent revolution” is the term they used in that famous document.

Marx and Engels afterwards spent several years without being formally involved in a political organization, until the founding of the First International in 1864. The role they saw for themselves at that time was to act directly at the international level, rather than getting involved in a national organization. The First International brought together a broad range of currents. It was anything but monolithic, including what we would today call left-wing reformists, along with anarchists and, of course, Marxists. The anarchists themselves mainly consisted of two different currents: followers of the French Proudhon and followers of the Russian Bakunin. Thus, a variety of tendencies and workers’ organizations joined the First International, the official name of which was the “International Workingmen’s Association” in the archaic language of the time.

The First International culminated with the Paris Commune. We have been celebrating this year the 150th anniversary of the Paris Commune, the uprising of the Parisian laboring masses, workers, and petite-bourgeoisie, that started on March 18, 1871 and ended in bloody repression after about two and a half months. This tragic outcome brought the International to an end after a sharp increase in factional infighting, as happens very often in times of setback and ebb.

The Second International, Social Democracy, Lenin and Luxemburg

The next stage was the emergence of German social democracy, which Marx and Engels followed very closely from England. One of the famous texts of Marx is the Critique of the Gotha Programme, which is a comment on the draft program of the Socialist Workers’ Party of Germany before its founding convention in 1875.

Later on, after Marx’s death in 1883, the Second International was founded in the year of the first centenary of the French Revolution in 1889. Engels was still active; he would die six years later. Marx and Engels, thus, contributed to very diverse types of organization during their lives. Consider the Internationals, First and Second: the Second involved mass workers’ parties that were quite different from the groups involved in the First, and it comprised a narrower range of political views. Although it was quite open to discussion, the anarchists were unwelcome in its ranks. The Second International was based on mass workers’ parties engaged in the whole range of class struggle forms, from trade union to electoral, struggles that had become increasingly possible to wage legally in most European countries by the end of the nineteenth century.

These workers’ parties involved in mass struggle emerged against the backdrop of a critique of Blanquism, which is the idea that a small group of enlightened revolutionaries can seize power by force, by way of a coup, and reeducate the masses after seizing power. This perspective, which grew out of one of the radical currents that developed from the French Revolution, had been strongly criticized by Marx and Engels as illusory and counterposed to their deeply democratic conception of revolutionary change.

Since the time of Marx and Engels, Marxism has gone through various avatars, as we know, but the most dominant in the twentieth century was indisputably the Russian model. More specifically, it was the variant of Marxism developed by the Bolshevik faction of the Social Democratic Workers’ Party of Russia, a section of the Second International. After the party’s split in 1912, both wings–Bolshevik and Menshevik–remained affiliated to the International, which soon went into crisis with the onset of World War I in 1914.

Russian conditions, of course, were quite exceptional compared to those of France or Germany, or most other countries where there were large sections of the International. Russia was ruled by tsarism, a very repressive state that allowed no political freedoms, except for brief periods. The Russian revolutionaries had to work underground most of the time, hiding from the political police.

It is in light of these very specific conditions that the birth of Leninism as a theory of the party must be considered. It was born at the very beginning of the past century, its first major document being Lenin’s What Is To Be Done? (1902). This book offered a conception of organization and struggle that was very much the fruit of the circumstances that I described: the underground party of professional revolutionaries acting in a “conspiratorial” manner, which was the only way revolutionaries could operate under the circumstances of that time in Russia.

And yet, when we examine the evolution of Lenin’s thinking on the matter, we see that after the Revolution of 1905, he modified his perspective towards a better appraisal of the potential of spontaneous radicalization of the working-class masses. Whereas he had initially insisted that the workers’ spontaneous inclination is bound to remain within the limits of a trade-unionist perspective, he realized after 1905 that the working-class masses could, at moments, be more revolutionary than any other organization—including his own!

Yet, this did not resolve the dispute that unfolded before 1905 between Mensheviks and Bolsheviks about the conception of the party: How large should the party’s membership be? What conditions should there be for membership? Should all party members be fully engaged in day-to-day political activity, or should membership include dues-paying supporters, regardless of their level of active involvement? That discussion heated up in 1903. But when the party split years later, in 1912, the most serious divergence was political—the attitude toward the liberal bourgeoisie—rather than organizational. This explains the attitude of someone like Trotsky, who was very critical of the party conception expressed in What Is To Be Done?, while still being politically closer to the Bolsheviks. Hence, his conciliatory stance toward both wings after 1912, since he agreed and disagreed with each of them on different issues.

During that same period, Rosa Luxemburg was actually more critical of the German Social Democratic Party than Lenin was. Whereas Lenin regarded the party as a model and key inspiration, Rosa Luxemburg was the most prominent left-wing critic of the party’s leadership. She, too, was critical of Lenin’s conception of the party, because she held a fundamental belief in the revolutionary potential of the working-class masses and their ability to outflank the social-democratic party’s leadership in revolutionary times.

This brief, and only partial, overview suffices to show that there existed a complex variety of conceptions of the workers’ party and its role. This fact makes it all the more important to consider the different conditions of the different countries in which the holders of these views were based. The Bolshevik party turned into a big, mass party in 1917. In the course of the radicalization and the revolutionary process that year, the party won over a big section of Russia’s working class, and other components of the Russian Revolution’s social base: soldiers, peasants, and others. In order to absorb the ongoing mass radicalization, the party opened its ranks widely. We see here at work the flexibility of organizational form that is necessary in order to adapt to changing circumstances.

The formula “democratic centralism,” which is usually attributed to Leninism, did not actually come from Lenin. It summarizes the organizational functioning of German social democracy, indicating the combination of democracy in debate and centralism in action. It wasn’t meant to prevent discussion. On the contrary, emphasis was placed on the democratic half of the expression. Even under the harsh conditions of Tsarist Russia, there was always a lot of discussion, open disputes, and creation of organizational factions within each wing of the Social Democratic Workers’ Party of Russia. Discussions came into the open within Russia itself when conditions changed in 1917.

It was only later—in 1921, in context of the difficult conditions resulting from the civil war—that factions were prohibited in the Communist Party (the heir to the Bolshevik wing of the Social Democratic Workers’ Party), a decision which proved to be a fatal mistake. It didn’t solve any problem, but was used by one faction of the party, one group within its leadership, in order to take full control of the party and get rid of any opposition. That was the beginning of the Stalinist mutation.

In 1924, Stalin redefined Leninism and enshrined it into a set of dogmas. This included a very centralistic and undemocratic conception of the party: the cult of the party and its leadership, the iron discipline, the banning of factions and, therefore, of organized discussion within the party. There, the conception of the party as the instrument of the “dictatorship of the proletariat” is spelled out, a view alien not only to Marx and Engels, but even to a book like Lenin’s State and Revolution (1917), in which the party is not even mentioned in the definition of that dictatorship (this, in some way, is actually a problem, as the book should have discussed the rights and role of parties after the revolution). But the key point is that this idea—that the party embodies the dictatorship of the proletariat—also became part of what was predominantly regarded as Leninism at that time.

Gramsci, War of Position and Maneuver

In the same way that various avatars of Marxism developed, there have been various Leninisms: that of the Stalinists, which I have just described, and other Leninisms, especially among groups that call themselves Trotskyist. Some of the latter were actually quite close to the Stalinist version; on the opposite side, we find someone like Ernest Mandel, the Belgian Marxist, whose Leninism is quite close to Rosa Luxemburg’s perspective.

A highly interesting reflection that developed after the Russian Revolution is that of Antonio Gramsci, the famous Italian Marxist. In considering the events that unfolded in Europe, he emphasized the difference between Russia’s conditions and those of Western Europe. We get back here, again, to our starting point: the circumstances, the concrete situation of each country and region. In Western Europe, liberal democracy went along with bourgeois “hegemony.” The bourgeoisie, in order to rule, did not rely on force alone, but also on the consent of a popular majority.

And that major difference must be taken into account, rather than simply copying the Russian experience. Under typical Western conditions, the workers’ party must strive to build a counter hegemony, that is, to win over the support of the majority in breaking away from bourgeois ideological domination. It must wage a war of position under liberal democratic conditions that allows the party to conquer positions within the bourgeois state itself through elections. That war of position is a prelude to a war of maneuver, a distinction borrowed from military strategy. In a war of position, an armed force entrenches itself in positions and strongholds, whereas in a war of maneuver, troops are set in motion to occupy the enemy’s territory and break its armed force. Thus, under typical Western conditions, the workers’ party should envisage a protracted war of position while being ready to shift to a war of maneuver, if and when this is required.

A Materialist Conception of the Party, the Internet

Let me add to all this what I would call a materialist conception of the party. For Marxists, the starting point in assessing social and political conditions is historical materialism: a given society’s forms of organization tend to correspond to its technological means. This axiom can be extended to all forms of organization: they normally adapt to material conditions. That is indeed the case for the management modes of capitalist firms. The same goes for revolutionary organization: its type and form very much depend on the means it uses to produce its literature, which are in turn determined by the available technology and political freedoms. Thus, if a party mainly relies on the underground printshop, it is necessarily a conspiratorial organization that requires a high degree of centralization and secrecy. If it can print its literature openly and legally, it can be an open, democratic organization (if it is conspiratorial by choice, rather than necessity, it is usually more of a sect than a party). This brings us to the internet as a major technological revolution in communication. The belief that this technological change should not affect the conception of the party is the unmistakable sign that the latter has become a religious-like dogmatic organization.

Nowadays, all forms of organization are very much conditioned by the existence of the internet. That is why networking has become a form of organization much more widespread than it could ever be before. Networking made possible by virtual networks, such as social media, can also facilitate the constitution of physical networks. Thanks to the internet, a much more democratic way of functioning is possible, in both information sharing and decision making. You don’t need to bring people from very long distances to meet physically every time you need to hold a democratic discussion and decide.

The potential of the internet is huge, and we are only at the beginning of its use. It feeds the strong aversion to centralism and leadership cults that exists among the new generation. I believe it is rather healthy that such defiance exists among the new generation, compared to the patterns that prevailed in the twentieth century.

Networking is very much the order of the day. It started early on with the Zapatistas who advocated this kind of organization in the 1990s. A major embodiment today is the Black Lives Matter (BLM). This movement began a few years ago, mostly as a network around an online platform and a shared set of principles. Local chapters only commit to the general principles of the movement, which has no central structure: just horizontal networking without a leading center; no hierarchy, no verticality. It is very much a product of our time that wouldn’t have been possible on such a scale before modern technology. It’s a good illustration of the materialist understanding of organization.

Networking is also at work in another recent major development, which occurred on the African continent, in Sudan. The Sudanese Revolution that started in December 2018 has witnessed the formation of Resistance Committees, which are local chapters mostly active in urban neighborhoods, each one of them involving hundreds of members, mostly young people. In every major urban zone, there are dozens of such committees, with hundreds of participants each. Tens of thousands of people are organized in that way in key urban areas. They function quite like BLM: common principles, common goals, no central leadership, intensive use of social media. They didn’t take their inspiration from BLM, though. They are, rather, a product of the time, a product of the aforementioned aversion to centralized experiences of the past and their sad outcomes, combined with the new technology.

This, however, does not cancel the need for the political organization of the like-minded, of people who—like the communists of the Communist Manifesto—share specific views and want to promote them. But the qualitatively higher degree of organizational democracy allowed for by modern technology similarly applies to such parties of the like-minded.
[Marxist revolutionaries] should aim at building a working-class mass party and eventually leading it—if and when they manage to convince the majority of their views. That’s also why they should join mass, working-class, anticapitalist parties when these exist, or else contribute to building them.

To wrap up, the key point I made at the beginning is that the type of organization depends on the concrete conditions of the place where it is to be built. Time and place are decisive, in addition to the technological dimension. It is very important to avoid falling into the sectarianism of self-proclaimed “vanguard parties.” Vanguard is a status that must be acquired in practice, not proclaimed. To truly be a vanguard, you must be regarded as such by the masses.

Marxist revolutionaries who wish to build a vanguard party should regard themselves, as in the Communist Manifesto, as part of the broader class movement involving other organizations of different types. They should aim at building a working-class mass party and eventually leading it—if and when they manage to convince the majority of their views. That’s also why they should join mass, working-class, anti-capitalist parties where these exist, or else contribute to building them. It is not by building a self-proclaimed “vanguard party” and recruiting members to its ranks one by one that you build a mass party. It doesn’t work like this. Moreover, socialism can only be democratic. It’s banal to say it, but it means that you can’t change society for the better without a social majority in favor of change. Otherwise, as history has shown us so tragically, you end up with the production of authoritarianism and dictatorship. And that comes with a huge price.

My final point is about the necessity of democratic vigilance against the corrosive effects of bourgeois institutions and bureaucratic tendencies. Not all countries in the world, but most of them, are countries where it is currently possible to engage in the war of position described by Gramsci, which includes a struggle within elective institutions of the bourgeois state. This is to be combined with a struggle from without, of course, through trade unions and various forms of class struggle, such as strikes, sit-ins, occupations, demonstrations, and so on.

In the course of the war of position, revolutionaries are confronted with the corrosive effects of bourgeois institutions, because elected officers can be affected by the corruptive power of capitalism. The same can be said of the corruptive power of bureaucracy, which is at play within trade unions and other working-class institutions. Revolutionaries should remain vigilant against these inevitable risks and think of new ways to prevent this corrosive effect from prevailing. That’s also a key part of the lessons of history that we must keep in mind.

25 April 2021

Source: Tempest.

P.S.

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LABOR HISTORY

Nixie Boran: nationalist, social revolutionary, miners’ leader, trade unionist

‘He stood strong’: How Nixie Boran revolutionized Castlecomer’s coal miners in 1930s

Nixie Boran, aged 29, taken from his wedding photograph in 1934.

 

It is not often a man shakes up society so much that the powerful of the day combine to destroy him, his ideas and his followers. That happened with Nixie Boran. Born in 1904, he lived through intense turmoil in Irish history and labour relations. His actions sent a tremor through the political, religious and industrial powers of the day because he dared to set up a communist trade union in Catholic rural Ireland.

Each era presents its own challenges; Nixie’s was about the reality and nature of freedom; today this is being questioned anew as the failures of the main political custodians to deliver equality are exposed.

Nixie was born into a farming family on the Castlecomer estate of the Wandesfordes in north Co Kilkenny on the Leinster coalfield. Like other small farmers, the Borans depended on supplementary earnings from the coal mines, also owned by the Wandesfordes, but conditions and pay for the miners were bad.

By Nixie’s youth there were four pits with 500 miners and 300 carters, but they were all replaced by Deerpark pit, opened in 1928, which would continue until its closure in the late 1960s. The miners’ wages sustained the economy of the area, but they struggled to improve their pay and conditions despite some efforts by the Irish Transport and General Workers Union in 1918.

Nixie lost of his mother at the age of four. Aged 12, he joined the Brotherhood, which offered future prospects and a good education but he left after two years and went into the mines. By 1922, he had already experienced the dangers of mining, its mean wages and its legacy of early deaths due to poor safety conditions and lung disease. He had witnessed the failure of strike action to pressurise the mine owner. At the same time, he was a youth during the upheaval of the War of Independence. In June 1922, Nixie was forced by the turmoil and unemployment in the mines to join the new Provisional State army. It was just six days before the outbreak of the Civil War and he was posted to Tipperary.

In November 1922, he was with Free State forces in Clonmel fighting against men such as Dan Breen and Dinny Lacey. But the introduction of the Public Safety Act on September 17th, and the executions of Republicans that followed, were too much for Nixie. He deserted to the Republican side and spent the rest of the war fighting with Breen’s men. He was shot in an ambush and hospitalised in Limerick alongside three Free State soldiers. His cover was blown and he had to be rescued before going back to fight. Nixie was finally captured in the Glen of Aherlow on May 8th, 1923. He was condemned to death but made a daring escape on August 2nd from Emmet Barracks, Clonmel.

His time on the run exposed Nixie to ideological influences about the nature of freedom and control of state resources. He had already imbibed Connolly’s thinking and subsequent contacts with the left wing of the IRA inspired him towards a Workers’ Republic combining small farmers and labourers. The Russian Revolution provided an example of how a different, fairer system was attainable.

Nixie brought these ideas with him when he returned to Castlecomer. Nothing there had changed since independence, and he began mobilising. The miners collected money to send him to the Red International of Labour Unions conference in Moscow in August 1930. Refused a passport, he stowed away on a ship and made his own way across Russia to the event. There he met activists from around the world and also James Larkin Jr and Sean Murray from Ireland. They returned to organise revolutionary workers groups and run the Worker’s Voice newspaper to support workers in their struggles.

The authorities arrested Nixie on his return home but protesting miners forced his release from Garda custody. A period of activism followed with the foundation of the Mine and Quarry Workers Union in January 1931 and also a local revolutionary workers group.

Opposition came in torrents. The local parish priest canvassed against the dangers of communism in schools, from the pulpit and in visits to miners’ families, accusing them of receiving Russian funding and being misled by Nixie. The State harassed them and their families and the mine management refused to consider their claims. They went on strike in 1932. Although a small concession ended the strike, further organisation generated intense controversy. Eventually, the Bishop, Dr Collier, made it clear that union members could not be Catholics and communists at the same time and indicated they were excommunicated. The local community was encouraged to reject everything they stood for and to squash the union.

So, Nixie Boran had defied newly-independent Ireland over its failure to deal fairly with workers. Faced with collapse, they changed tactics and formed a separate branch of the IT&GWU. Three strikes followed. In 1940 a strike of 11 weeks got payments for formerly unpaid coal products, there was later a successful seven-day staydown against the Government wartime wage freeze, and in 1949 an 11-month strike finally forced the company to substantially improve wages and conditions for all mine workers.

Nixie was elected to the executive of the IT&GWU in 1952. This gave him membership of the Irish Congress of Trade Unions and he used those positions to fight for legislation on the miners’ disease, pneumoconiosis, and on safety in the mines. He represented Ireland as a delegate to the International Labour Conference in Geneva in 1956. His feet, however, remained firmly planted in his local community.

The ultimate challenge Nixie faced was the end of mining in Castlecomer. He put all his efforts into preventing closure then, when it looked inevitable, helped to delay the process through surveys and pressure on the union and politicians. He even joined the board of Castlecomer Collieries and helped keep Deerpark mine operating for three extra years until final closure in 1969. By that time some alternative employment opportunities had been created in the area.

“He stood strong” was a term used to describe Nixie by a woman from Castlecomer whose father had been killed in the mines. He had the qualities of conviction, ability to inspire and doggedness when up against intransigence. He was also able to compromise. His value system was based on equality, fairness and intolerance of oppression. The challenges of today demand leaders with similar qualities.


Anne Boran is the author of Challenge to Power: Nixie Boran (1904-1971): Freedom and the Castlecomer coal miners (Geography Publications, Dublin)

Nixie Boran: nationalist, social revolutionary, miners’ leader, trade unionist (irishtimes.com)

New unionism - when mass workers' action changed Britain

In the second of our occasional series on the history of working-class struggle in Britain, Iain Dalton looks at 'new unionism'.

Hull docks 1882

Hull docks 1882   (Click to enlarge)

Imagine the Port of Shanghai, the busiest in the world, with 125 docks and 19 terminals, serving over 2,000 container vessels, was paralysed by strike action for a month. Such a display of working-class power was the high point of the 'new unionism' movement. 100,000 dockers were on strike at the Port of London in 1889, then the busiest port in the world, at the heart of a world-spanning empire.

Karl Marx's lifelong co-thinker Friedrich Engels greeted the strike: "This host of utterly despondent men, who every morning when the dock gates open fight a regular battle among themselves to get the closest to the fellow who does the hiring.

"This motley crowd thrown together by chance, and changing daily in composition, has managed to unite 40,000 strong, to maintain discipline, and to strike fear into the hearts of the mighty dock companies. How glad I am to have lived to see this day."

Impossible

New unionism spanned 1888 to 1892. Wave after wave of 'semi-skilled' and 'unskilled' workers, who many had said were impossible to organise, took strike action to win recognition of their unions and improvements in pay and conditions.

Up to this point, trade unions had largely been 'craft' organisations, based on 'skilled' workers - engineers, boilermakers, plumbers, compositors, etc. While they did organise strike action from time to time, in the main their leaders sought to secure higher wages by restricting the numbers of skilled workers who paid substantial membership fees.

There had been sporadic attempts to organise unions among other workers. But many of these organisations were short-lived, and strikes ended in defeat. But a number of things were about to change.

Firstly, since the mid-1870s, the British economy had been in a period of depression which increased unemployment. But new unionism coincided with a temporary recovery, where workers sought to improve their conditions and win back past losses.

Secondly, the new unions had much lower membership fees than the old craft unions. The new unions sought to sustain themselves by winning concessions from the employers to improve their members' living standards.

Thirdly, many of the leaders of the new unions were socialists. They had been through previous struggles, and applied what they had learned.

The new unions grew at a tremendous rate. In 1888, in Hull, the local class-collaborationist dock union had 400 members.

By the beginning of 1890, the Dock, Wharf, Riverside and General Labourers Union had 4,000 members in Hull. By September, it was 12,000. And, by December, there was 100% union density on the docks.

New unionism spread as victories among one group of workers gave confidence to others. The matchwomen's strike at Bryant and May in London in July 1888 gave confidence to the dockers.

Many of the matchwomen were the wives, sisters and daughters of dockers. Dockers sometimes worked at the gas works in neighbouring areas when work at the docks was slack in the winter.

Left-over money from the dockers' strike fund was donated to striking tailors in the East End who successfully took action in 1889 to win a ten-and-a-half-hour day and a limit on overtime.

As the economic climate worsened and unemployment surged, many of the new unions fell back to half the size they'd been at the height of the movement. Some smaller new unions disappeared entirely.

Strike-breaking by the employers and state was also a key factor. This was most pronounced on the docks.

Shipping Federation

There, the vast majority of employers organised themselves as the Shipping Federation. They sought to smash the new unions.

In Southampton, the dockers' union organiser was imprisoned for three months following a five-day strike. The Shipping Federation wanted to introduce 'free labour', i.e. scabs, to break the 'closed shop' the new unions had established.

The most brutal repression occurred in Hull. In 1893, there was a bosses' lockout against 15,000 dockers and seafarers. Substantial forces were moved to Hull to break the strike - 1,000 strikebreakers and 250 soldiers.

Two gunboats were stationed in the Humber estuary. Regular baton charges by the police and stone throwing by strikers were exchanged.

Similar treatment was meted out to workers elsewhere. In Bristol, a lantern procession in December 1892 to build support for the strike at the sweet factory was broken up by 200 mounted troops, known as Black Friday. Dockers' leader Ben Tillet was charged with incitement to riot even though he wasn't even present!

In Leeds, there was a gas workers' strike in 1890 to preserve the gains the workers had won when they founded their union the year before. The Liberal council owned the gasworks. It brought in strike breakers from around the country, housed them in the town hall, and supplied them with food, drink and tobacco.

A police and armed military escort marched the strike breakers to one of the city's gas works. But the workers and their supporters physically blocked large numbers from entering the gas works, and convinced many to return home, with train fares paid by the union.

In 1892, the predominantly women workforce in Manningham Mills in Bradford were on strike. They faced hostility from the Liberal council that refused permission for meetings, Liberal 'poor law' guardians who refused strikers out-of-work assistance, and the Liberal watch committee that set the police on them. As the repression intensified, the need for political action alongside industrial action became clearer to many workers.

Eleanor Marx reported to an international socialist meeting: "Great as the victories of the new unionism have been, magnificent as the work is of organising thousands upon thousands of hitherto unorganised workers, this growing class consciousness of the British workers is a greater, a more noteworthy fact, than either of the two others."

Initially, this was sporadic and most concentrated around West Yorkshire, where the role of Liberal councils in strikes had broken the domination in the local workers' movement of those who favoured achieving labour representation through the Liberal Party.

In May 1892, the newly formed Bradford Labour Union elected a councillor unopposed in Manningham, where the mill strike had taken place. And, in November, a second councillor was elected.

In the 1892 general election, the Bradford Labour Union nominated dockers' leader Ben Tillett to stand in the Bradford West parliamentary constituency. He won 30.2% of the vote. More spectacularly, in West Ham South, Keir Hardie was elected as an independent Labour MP.

Workers elected

West Ham's Liberal mayor had already sacked his bakery workforce after they put in a wage claim, and leaders of the new unions, such as Will Thorne of the gas workers, had been elected to the local council. These developments were brought together with the formation of the Independent Labour Party (ILP) in 1893.

Even though Hardie lost his parliamentary seat in 1895, the employers' offensive forced the question of working-class political representation more to the fore. A motion from one of the predecessors of today's transport union RMT led to the formation of the Labour Representation Committee (LRC).

The Taff Vale judgement in 1901 made unions liable for companies losses during strike action. It quadrupled the numbers of trade unionists affiliated to the LRC, paving the way for the development of the Labour Party.

Although no two eras are ever the same, there are enormous lessons to be learnt from this period for the struggle today to rebuild fighting unions and a new mass workers' party.

  • Read the first in our series 'Chartism: The world's first working-class movement' at socialistparty.org.uk