Thursday, September 26, 2024

 

The Latin American left amid China, the United States, late progressivism and the far right

Published 

America Latina en la encrucijada global Claudio Katz

First published at CADTM.

Claudio Katz has just published a book in Spanish entitled America Latina en la encrucijada global (Latin America at the Global Crossroads).1Claudio Katz is a Marxist economist and professor at the University of Buenos Aires, author of some fifteen books concerning the Dependency theory fifty years after its emergence, imperialism today, and issues faced by the Latin American Left. His new book concentrates on Latin America and deals with the continent’s relations with China and with US imperialism.

The book is in five parts: in Part 1 Katz analyses the strategy of American imperialism from the beginning of the 19th century to the present day. He demonstrates that American imperialism underwent a rising phase during which it replaced former colonial powers such as Spain and Portugal during the 19th century and Great Britain from the end of the First World War onwards. Now, after totally dominating Latin America, US imperialism has gone into decline, in particular with the rise of China as a great power. In this first part, Katz also analyses China’s policy in Latin America and the attitude of the dominant classes in Latin America toward the new great power.

The second part of the book focuses on the characteristics of the far Right in Latin America, its specific nature and the way it operates. That section concludes with an analysis of the phenomenon of Javier Milei, who became president of Argentina in late 2023.

The third part of the book looks at the experiences of the new progressivism that emerged from the major popular mobilizations that shook several parts of Latin America in 2019.

The fourth part looks at the debates within the Left about these new progressive governments and also looks specifically at what Claudio Katz sees as the four countries that make up an “alternative axis” to US imperialism — Venezuela, Bolivia, Nicaragua and Cuba.

The fifth part looks at new forms of popular resistance in recent years and addresses the question of alternatives.

The United States and China vis-à-vis Latin America

As Claudio Katz shows, the United States still has a dominant position in Latin America. According to Katz:

Between 1948 and 1990, the US State Department participated in the overthrow of 24 governments. In four cases, American troops were deployed; in three cases CIA assassinations were the means used; and in 17 cases coups d’état were directed from Washington. (Katz, p. 49)2

The US has military bases in several countries, including Colombia, where nine US bases are located. But there are also US bases in the south of the continent (two in Paraguay). The US fleet is prepared to intervene all around Latin America, on both the South Atlantic and Pacific coasts.

The United States has twelve military bases in Panama, twelve in Puerto Rico, nine in Colombia, eight in Peru, three in Honduras and two in Paraguay. They also have similar facilities in Aruba, Costa Rica, El Salvador and Cuba (Guantánamo). In the Falkland Islands, the US’s partner Britain provides a NATO network link to sites in the North Atlantic. Katz, p. 50.3

At the same time, Claudio Katz shows that since the 2010s, China has succeeded in competing with US interests in Latin America and the Caribbean with an investment policy that allows for company takeovers and a very dynamic and massive credit policy. Just what are we talking about here? In fact, the United States succeeded in convincing Latin American governments, particularly from the second half of the 19th century and throughout the 20th century, to sign free-trade agreements. Since the United States had an economy that was far more technologically advanced than the countries of Latin America, thanks to these treaties it systematically won out over local producers — capitalists in industry and agribusiness, but also small agricultural producers. American products were superior in terms of productivity and technology, and therefore more competitive.

But the United States is an economic power in decline, whereas China is booming. Compared with the economies of Latin America, but also with the United States, China now has an advantage in terms of productivity, and therefore in terms of competitiveness, in a number of technological areas. And China is now using the same economic tools that the United States used systematically — i.e. signing bilateral free-trade treaties with as many Latin American and Caribbean countries as possible. Meanwhile the United States’ proposed free-trade treaty for all the Americas (the FTAA), whose provisions ensured US domination, was rejected by a whole series of South American governments in 2005. Since then, the US’s economic decline in relation to China has accentuated, and it no longer has the means to try to convince countries in the South to sign free-trade agreements. Above all, the US is no longer in a position to really benefit from such agreements, because of competition from China. As a result, it is China that favours the dogma of free trade and the mutual benefits to be derived by the various economies if they adopt this type of agreement. China benefits from this because, as Claudio Katz rightly points out, its products are much more competitive in Latin America than the products made by Latin American economies or by the United States, and the products exported by Latin American economies to China are essentially raw materials, minerals and transgenic soybean. As a result, they are not really competitive with Chinese products. China is reaping the full benefits of the type of relationship it is developing with Latin American countries, gaining market share in their domestic markets at the expense of local production. We are witnessing a re-primarization of economies, and this can be seen very clearly in the type of products exported from Latin America to the world market, particularly to China — which is becoming the biggest trading partner of several Latin American countries, Argentina and Peru being two examples.

Claudio Katz demonstrates that China derives maximum benefit from Latin America because Latin American governments are incapable of devising a common policy and an integration policy that favours the development of the domestic market and local production for that domestic market.

He points out that China does not behave entirely like a traditional imperialist country; it does not use armed force. Unlike the United States, China does not accompany its investments with military bases.

As mentioned above, Claudio Katz lists the military aggressions carried out by the United States in Latin America — a list that is obviously impressive and in stark contrast to China’s behaviour towards Latin America and the Caribbean. As he correctly points out, China has not become an imperialist power in the full sense of the word (unlike Russia, in my own view). He argues that capitalism is not fully consolidated in China. Does he mean that the Chinese leadership could make a U-turn and move away from capitalism? Frankly, that is doubtful. He also repeats the claim that economic development in China has lifted 800 million people out of poverty, without explaining on what basis he makes this claim: what studies? what figures? In order to talk about 800 million people being lifted out of poverty, we would need to specify in relation to which year, to which year’s population, and say on what basis the poverty line is determined.

This is a very important question, and Katz’s argument is woefully lacking in foundation. The figures he gives are those given by the World Bank and the Chinese authorities, and I have shown in several articles that the World Bank’s assessments are highly questionable. In fact, the World Bank itself admitted in 2008 that it had overestimated the number of people lifted out of poverty by 400 million.

In the absence of any references from Claudio Katz, we can only wonder whether he is basing his claim on World Bank figures without saying so and, if not, what statistical data he is using. He would do well to provide the necessary details, as this would strengthen his argument.

On the other hand, Katz has no difficulty in acknowledging that a major capitalist class has been re-established in China, and he criticizes those who say that China is at the centre of the socialist project of our time. He says that this capitalist class has ambitions to regain power. Katz believes that socialist renewal is possible; that invites the question of whether it can come from the CCP leadership. I think we have to make it clear that the answer is no: socialist renewal will not come from the CCP leadership.

Claudio Katz is also right in saying that China is not part of the global South. He writes:

All the treaties promoted by China reinforce economic subordination and dependence. The Asian giant has consolidated its status as a creditor economy, taking advantage of unequal trade, capturing surpluses and appropriating revenues.

China does not act as a dominating imperial power; but neither does it favour Latin America. The current agreements exacerbate primarization and the flight of surplus value. The external expansion of the new power is guided by the principles of profit maximization, not by norms of cooperation. Beijing is not a simple partner and is not part of the South. (p.73)4

The myth of the success of neoliberal policies

In the second part of his book, Claudio Katz begins by attacking the policies of Latin American neoliberals and shows how their being in power — as they are in several countries today — has not led to any real progress for the continent.

Katz shows that the so-called success of neoliberal policies in Latin America is nothing more than a myth, since the ruling classes and the governments that serve them continue to be subservient to US imperialism, but are also opening up to China’s policies, which the US frowns upon while failing to offer Latin America a genuine alternative in terms of economic and human development. What interests China is the possibility of exploiting the continent’s raw materials to feed the “world’s factory” China has become, and then re-exporting its manufactured products to various markets, including the Latin American market.

Katz shows that poverty remains very high in Latin America, and is even increasing, affecting 33% of the population. Extreme poverty affects 13.1% of the population, while inequality is increasing in favour of the richest 10%.

Economic growth is very slow if we consider the rate of growth over the period 2010—2024, which was 1.6% per annum. This is lower than the period 1980—2009, when growth reached 3%, and the period 1951—1979, when it reached 5% annually.

Katz then looks back at the Latin American independence movements, most of which arose in the 1820s. He shows that independence only led to a new type of subordination to new powers: firstly Great Britain, which was struggling to conquer its own space at the expense of Spain and Portugal, and then, from the end of the 19th century, the United States. I should point out that I addressed this question in my book The Debt System,5in which I devote several chapters to the 19th and early 20th centuries, and in which I demonstrate that it is both the free-trade agreements and the type of indebtedness in which the governments of Latin American countries have become entangled that have led to a new cycle of dependence/subordination, with the fundamentally harmful role played by the ruling classes, who are accomplices of the various new imperialisms.

The rise of the far right in Europe and Latin America: Specificities and similarities

Then, still in Part 2, Claudio Katz takes a very interesting look at the rise of the far Right in Latin America. To show the specific nature of this rise, he begins by analysing the characteristics of the far Right in Europe and of its growth. He then analyses the specific characteristics of the far Right in Latin America: unlike the far Right in Europe or the United States, it does not put the issue of immigration at the centre of its rhetoric — although in some countries, such as Chile, it does raise the spectre of the “danger” that migrants represent. But this is not a general trend, as it is in Donald Trump’s speeches and in the rhetoric of the different variants of the far Right in Europe, including those in government — for example Giorgia Meloni in Italy, Viktor Orbán in Hungary, the RN in France, AfD in Germany, VB and NVA in Belgium, FPÖ in Austria, etc.

In Latin America, the far Right, for example in Bolivia and Peru, uses a racist discourse that is directed against the indigenous majority, the native peoples, rather than against migrants. The spectre of the “communist threat,” in the form of Castro, Chavism and other Latin American experiments in which the radical Left has made gains, is another theme found more often in the rhetoric of the Latin American far Right than it is in Europe. This is because in Europe, over the last fifty years, the direct threat to the Right of socialist-oriented experiments has not been as tangible as in Latin America. Katz also shows the importance of evangelical movements, which are extremely reactionary, and of the claim by the Latin American far Right of the supremacy of white populations of European, and especially Iberian, origin. The Latin American far Right magnifies colonization since Christopher Columbus as a civilizing achievement, which explains the close connections between the far Right in several Latin American countries and the Vox party in Spain, which does the same.

Katz also shows that in some cases, the far Right has demonstrated a capacity for mass mobilization. A notable example is Bolsonarism, which succeeded in taking over Brazil’s government in 2019 until Lula da Silva’s re-election to the presidency at the end of 2022. And Bolsonarism retains that capacity for mass mobilization despite its electoral defeat, as it demonstrated in February 2024, when almost 200,000 people gathered in São Paulo.

Extremely harsh repression of the “dangerous” classes and of delinquents is an important aspect of the rhetoric of the Latin American far Right. Such is the case with the government of Nayib Bukele in El Salvador,6which has carried out numerous extrajudicial executions and created the largest prison in Latin America in the name of the fight against drug trafficking. Another example is Jair Bolsonaro’s use of militias in the poor districts, in particular in Rio de Janeiro.

The second part of Claudio Katz’s book also contains a reflection on fascism and the far Right today. I’m not going to go into detail about the concepts Katz uses; I’ll leave it to the reader to discover what is a highly interesting contribution in this area.

Then, still in Part 2, Katz examines the politics of the far Right using a number of examples from different countries. He takes the example of Bolsonaro’s Brazil and of Bolivia, followed by Venezuela, Javier Milei’s Argentina, Colombia and Peru, followed by a few paragraphs referring to Nayib Bukele in El Salvador and the situation in Ecuador and Paraguay.

Among the explanations for the rise of the far Right is of course the disappointment of a sector of the working classes with their experiences with progressive governments; but there is also the impact of American imperialism, the activity of the evangelical churches and the lack of a firm reaction to the threat of the far Right by progressive governments. Katz shows that when there has been a very strong reaction, as in Bolivia, it has produced results.

The new wave of Latin American progressivism: moderate late progressivism, often brought to power by large-scale mobilizations

In Part 3, Claudio Katz looks at the experiences of progressive governments. He begins by noting that there was a progressive wave that began in 1999 and ended in 2014. It was followed by a conservative backlash that provoked popular mobilization in several countries and led, especially from 2021—2022, to a new progressive wave. He stresses that this new progressive wave is a step back from the 1999—2014 period in that progressive governments are pursuing much less radical policies than those of Hugo Chávez in Venezuela (1999—2012), for example, or Evo Morales in the first period of his presidency in Bolivia (2005—2011) or Rafael Correa in Ecuador (2007—2011). This less radical progressive wave is affecting countries that were not affected by the previous wave — namely Mexico, Colombia since 2022 with the government of Gustavo Petro, and Chile with the government of Gabriel Boric.

Katz successively analyses the very recent — since early 2023 — the return of Lula to the presidency of Brazil and the election of Gustavo Petro as president of Colombia. He reviews Alberto Fernández’s term as president of Argentina from 2019 until Javier Milei’s victory at the end of 2023. He analyses the policies of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO) in Mexico since 2018, those of Gabriel Boric in Chile and, finally, those of Peru’s Pedro Castillo, who was overthrown in 2022.

I fully agree with Katz’s assessment of the governments I have just mentioned, and I recommend that you read this section.

To sum up, what stands out about the progressive governments of the 2018—2019 period, in the case of Mexico and Argentina, and then of the 2021—2022 period for Brazil, Colombia, Chile and Peru, is their lack of radicalism; they are fully maintaining the agro-export extractivist model, and no free-trade treaty has been abrogated. Katz is particularly harsh in his criticism of Gabriel Boric’s government in Chile and Pedro Castillo’s in Peru. I leave it to readers to read his arguments, which I very much share.

Lula’s international policy

In Part 3, Claudio Katz then looks at the international and regional policies of several progressive governments, and in particular the most economically important one: Brazil’s. He discusses Lula da Silva’s support for the treaty between Mercosur and the EU. One of the reasons why Lula is pushing to reduce deforestation in the Amazon is to meet the demands of the EU, which is under pressure from European industrial lobbies but also from protests in European countries by social movements and farmers, who cite unfair competition from Brazilian exporters. Environmental demands are being put forward, and of course Lula wants to reduce deforestation due to pressure from the indigenous peoples of Amazonia and environmental movements, but he is all the more convinced of the need to do so because it is an EU demand and he wants to implement the Mercosur-EU treaty.

I would add that the Left in Europe is opposed to this treaty. It should also be pointed out that left-leaning social movements and environmentalists, as well as the native peoples’ movements of Latin America and the Mercosur countries, have been opposing the signing of the treaty, which is still being negotiated, for years.

Claudio Katz also explains that the Lula government wants to adopt a non-dollar currency of account between Mercosur countries in order to reduce the use of the dollar. Lula’s idea is to import liquid gas via a pipeline that would run to the southern border of Brazil and then on to Porto Alegre, replacing Brazil’s supply of gas from Bolivia, since Bolivian reserves are drying up at an accelerated rate. This is important for strengthening economic relations between Argentina and Brazil, because Argentina lacks foreign-exchange reserves, and Brazil, which exports heavily to Argentina, needs for Argentina to be able to buy its goods — particularly under pressure from Brazil’s major industrial capitalists, heavily invested in auto manufacturing and for whom the Argentine market is important. Therefore the adoption of a unit of account within Mercosur, and in particular between Argentina and Brazil, would enable Argentina to do without dollars, which it does not have in sufficient quantity, in purchasing products imported from Brazil. Lula’s Brazil is also interested in exploiting the Vaca Muerta gas field in Argentina, which is opposed by social, left-wing and environmental movements in that country.

Katz also explains that Lula would like to bring Bolivia and Venezuela into Mercosur.

Note that in this book Claudio Katz makes no use of the theoretical contribution of the Brazilian Marxist economist Rui Mauro Marini on the subject of Brazilian sub-imperialism or peripheral imperialism and its role in relation to its neighbours. Katz has done this in other works, but it might have been a useful tool for the readers of this book. A second omission from Katz’s book (admittedly he can’t write about everything) is BRICS, Brazil’s role therein and Lula’s expectations regarding BRICS. The role of BRICS, the question of whether or not to adopt a common currency, and the role of the new development bank based in Shanghai — which is chaired by the former president of Brazil, Dilma Rousseff, who succeeded Lula — are not marginal aspects of the overall problem addressed by Claudio Katz in his book. I feel that they would have deserved fuller development.

The limits of the policies of progressive governments

Then, still in Part 3, after discussing Mercosur policy, free-trade treaties and the economic relationship with the United States, Claudio Katz returns to China’s policy in Latin America in a highly interesting section that I don’t have time to summarize here, but which contains important information. I also agree with him that the progressive governments have not at all taken a position commensurate with the challenge posed by the issue of debt and the need to audit the debts claimed on Latin America. And I agree that Lula’s Brazil, during Lula’s first terms of office in the early 2000s, sabotaged the launch of the Bank of the South. In a recent article of mine on this subject, I went into detail about Lula’s sabotage of the launch of the Bank in the years following 2007—2008, and so I fully share Katz’s analysis of the issue.

As to the question of alternatives, Katz argues that if progressive governments really wanted to try to implement an alternative to the neoliberal extractivist export model on the continent, they should work together to create a Latin American public company to exploit lithium.

Katz also argues that progressive governments should adopt a policy of financial sovereignty, extricating themselves from the current type of indebtedness and the control exercised by the IMF over the economic policy of many countries in the region. He argues that there should be a general audit of debts and that a number of the most fragile countries should suspend their debt repayments. He says that if this is not done, there will be no way of putting an alternative in place, and he argues that the Bank of the South should again take up the path it was on, toward creating a new continental architecture. Here again, I can only share his point of view.

Debate in the Latin American left

In Part 4 of his book, Claudio Katz addresses ongoing debates within the Latin American Left, in particular over the attitude that should be adopted towards the Right and far Right and towards progressive governments and their limitations.

He asserts that it is a duty to express clear criticism of progressive governments... without, of course, misidentifying enemies. There is no doubt that the first thing to do is to challenge the policies of the Right and its political forces, and imperialist interventions — particularly those of the United States —, and also China’s policy in the region. But we must not limit ourselves to that. We also need to analyse and criticize, where necessary, the limits of the policies of the so-called progressive governments. Claudio Katz shows how the Alberto Fernández administration in Argentina, from 2019, bears heavy responsibility for the victory of the far-Right anarcho-capitalist Javier Milei.

With regard to these policies, I would like to quote Katz, who says:

We must remember that the left-wing option is forged by stressing that the Right is the main enemy and that progressivism fails because of weakness, complicity or lack of courage with regard to its adversary. But we must not confuse right-wing governments with these progressive governments and say that they are of the same nature. There is a fundamental distinction between the two, and if we forget that we are incapable of conceiving of an alternative and a correct policy. (p. 220) 7

This huge popular mobilization, in which CONAIE played a key role, along with other sectors of the population, did not lead to the victory of a left-wing government in the elections that followed, again as a result of the split between CONAIE and the movement linked to Rafael Correa, but instead to the victory of a multi-millionaire from the banana and extractivist sectors, Daniel Noboa.

Then there is the case of Haiti, with extremely strong, repeated mobilizations, but with a perpetual political crisis, with no solution and no arrival to power of a left-wing government.

Finally, there is Panama, with huge mobilizations in the education sector and, in 2023, huge successful movements among different sectors of the population (including teachers, but involving all working-class sectors) against a huge open-pit mining project, but which did not result in the victory of a left-wing government. In the last elections, a right-wing president, José Raúl Mulino, was elected.

Alternatives

The last part of Claudio Katz’s book deals with alternatives, and it should be noted that he rightly argues that we must resist both the domination exerted by US imperialism and the economic dependence generated by the agreements China has entered into with Latin America. Katz asserts that we need to act on these two challenges if we want to find a Latin American path to development, improve the incomes of working-class sectors and reduce inequality in the region. According to Katz these are two different battles; the two enemies are not identical, but both battles need to be fought. With regard to Washington, the task is to recover sovereignty, whereas with regard to China, the challenge is to react to what he calls a “productive regression” brought about by the treaties signed with Beijing. This “productive regression” is the re-primarization of economies: As explained above, Latin America specializes in exporting unprocessed raw materials to China, and imports manufactured goods from China. Katz believes that the free-trade agreements entered into with China should be called into question. He believes that Latin America should negotiate as a bloc with China, which is absolutely not being done at present. Currently, the governments of the individual Latin American countries, in line with the wishes of the local ruling classes, enter into bilateral agreements with the Chinese. As these ruling classes specialize to a large extent in import-export, they benefit from this, but it does absolutely nothing to diversify the Latin American economies and resume their industrialization. So, according to Katz, the agreements with the Chinese must be renegotiated so that China invests in manufacturing production and not just in the primary extractive industries. Latin America needs to reindustrialize and secure technology transfers so that a diversified industrial development cycle can be re-started.

Since current governments and the local ruling classes are not adopting an alternative policy to those determined by relations with the United States or China, we have to rely heavily on the mobilization of social movements. Claudio Katz gives the example of the positions and the actions taken by the organizations of the global network La Via Campesina, which has a strong presence in Latin America. This worldwide organization has included the rejection of free-trade treaties in its platform for action.

Social movements and international networks

Claudio Katz notes that the great mobilizations of the late 1990s and early 2000s — with the World Social Forum (WSF), the struggles against the WTO in Seattle and the struggles in Europe against the Multilateral Agreement on Investment that was being negotiated within the OECD — have unfortunately come to an end, and a whole series of free-trade treaties have been signed. It should be remembered that the protests, particularly in Latin America in 2005, resulted in a victory against the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas (FTAA) proposed by George W. Bush’s administration. Since then there have been no major mobilizations, and as part of the New Silk Road project, China has succeeded in imposing free-trade agreements with Latin American countries or is in the process of finalizing new agreements with countries that have not yet signed with China. Free-trade agreements have also been entered into with other powers.

With regard to the free-trade agreements entered into with China, Katz mentions the one signed in 2004 between Chile and China, the agreement between Peru and China signed in 2009, between Costa Rica and China in 2010 and, more recently, the agreement with Ecuador signed in 2023, with a particularly right-wing government.

In the face of this trend, Katz quite rightly says that there is a need to re-create bottom-up spaces for regional unity in order to re-launch a major dynamic of mobilization.

In terms of objectives, he correctly states that the aim is to recover financial sovereignty, which has been undermined by external debt and IMF control over economic policy. According to Katz, we need to impose a general audit of debts and the suspension of debt repayment for countries with a very high level of indebtedness in order to lay the foundations for a new financial architecture. We also need to move towards energy sovereignty by creating large inter-state entities to generate synergies and pool a broad variety of natural resources, exploiting them jointly. In particular, a Latin American public company must be created to exploit and process lithium.

Katz argues that the alternative must be a strategy of moving towards socialism. In his view, Hugo Chávez had the merit of reaffirming the relevance of the socialist perspective and, since his death, no one else has replaced him in this respect. Katz argues that a transitional strategy is needed to break with the capitalist system. He says that we must fight against US imperialism, which has embarked on a new cold war against Russia and China. He also affirms the need to fight against the far Right and against the adaptation of social democracy to neoliberal policies. According to Katz, this adaptation of social democracy has encouraged the strengthening of the far Right.

The need for a radical, revolutionary anti-capitalist transition programme

Claudio Katz calls for a “radical, revolutionary, anti-capitalist transition programme.” He adds:

This platform involves the de-commodification of natural resources, the reduction of the working day, and the nationalization of banks and digital platforms in order to create the foundations for a more egalitarian economy.

Katz starts from the observation that there is no current pattern of simultaneous or successive revolutionary victories, unlike what happened in the twentieth century with the succession of victorious revolutions in Tsarist Russia, China, then Vietnam and Cuba. Nevertheless, he believes it is important to reaffirm that only a socialist solution to the crisis of capitalism can offer a real solution for humanity. He maintains that Latin America will always be a region of the world where a renewal of the search for socialist alternatives can spring up, even if processes such as ALBA — the association including Venezuela, Bolivia and Ecuador launched by Hugo Chávez in the early 2000s — have suffered a setback.

Conclusion: An indispensable book

All in all, Claudio Katz’s book is essential reading for activists and researchers who want to understand the current political, economic and social situation in Latin America. What is interesting about Katz’s approach is that not only does he analyse the policies pursued by the governments of the major powers — the United States, China, etc. —, but also the policies of the dominant classes in the Latin American region. He studies the dynamics of social struggles and, finally, concludes that it is from below that a socialist project can be re-created.

We can only regret that the dimension of the ecological crisis and the urgency of finding solutions to it, within a socialist framework, is not sufficiently central to the book, including in the conclusions, even though it is clear that Claudio Katz supports a socialist ecologist approach. But his book would gain in strength if Katz were to develop this aspect explicitly at various points in his reasoning.

The author would like to thank Claude Quémar for his collaboration, Maxime Perriot for the final proofing and Snake Arbusto for the translation into English.

  • 1

    Claudio Katz, America Latina en la encrucijada global, Buenos Aires: Batalla de Ideas, La Habana: Ciencias Sociales, 2024, 366 pp, ISBN: 978-987-48230-9-0 https://batalladeideas.ar/producto/america-latina-en-la-encrucijada-global/

  • 2

    Entre 1948 y 1990, el Departamento de Estado estuvo involucrado en el derrocamiento de 24 gobiernos. En cuatro casos, actuaron efectivos estadounidenses, en tres ocasiones prevalecieron los asesinatos de la CIA, y en 17 hubo golpes teledirigidos desde Washington. Katz, p. 49.

  • 3

    Estados Unidos cuenta con doce bases militares en Panamá, doce en Puerto Rico, nueve en Colombia, ocho en Perú, tres en Honduras, y dos en Paraguay. Mantiene, además, instalaciones del mismo tipo en Aruba, Costa Rica, El Salvador y Cuba (Guantánamo). En las Islas Malvinas, el socio británico asegura una red de la OTAN conectada con los emplazamientos del Atlántico norte Katz, p. 50

  • 4

    Todos los tratados que ha promocionado China acrecientan la subordinación económica y la dependencia. El gigante asiático afianzó su estatus de economía acreedora, lucra con el intercambio desigual, captura los excedentes y se apropia de la renta.

    China no actúa como un dominador imperial, pero tampoco favorece a América Latina. Los convenios actuales agravan la primarización y el drenaje de la plusvalía. La expansión externa de la nueva potencia está guiada por principios de maximización del lucro y no por normas de cooperación. Beijing no es un simple socio y tampoco forma parte del Sur Global. Katz, p. 73-74.

  • 5

    Toussaint, Eric, The Debt System: A History of Sovereign Debts and their Repudiation, Chicago: Haymarket Books (25 Jun. 2019) ISBN 1642591181

  • 6

    UN Geneva, In Dialogue with El Salvador, Experts of the Committee against Torture Praise Domestic Violence Legislation, Ask about the State of Emergency and Torture Complaints, 18 November 2022, https://www.ungeneva.org/en/news-media/meeting-summary/2022/11/dialogue-el-salvador-experts-committee-against-torture-praise; Human Rights Watch, ’We Can Arrest Anyone We Want’— Widespread Human Rights Violations Under El Salvador’s ‘State of Emergency’,https://www.hrw.org/report/2022/12/07/we-can-arrest-anyone-we-want/widespread-human-rights-violations-under-elLa JornadaBukele: la ilusión de la seguridad, 27/05/2024, https://www.jornada.com.mx/2024/05/27/opinion/002a1edi (in Spanish)

  • 7

    Es necesario recordar que la opción de izquierda se forja señalando que la derecha es el enemigo principal y que el progresismo fracasa por impotencia, complicidad, o falta de coraje ante su adversario. No hay que confundir la derecha en el gobierno con los gobiernos progresistas y decir que son lo mismo. Hay una distinción fundamental entre las dos opciones y si lo olvidamos, seremos incapaces de concebir una alternativa y una política correcta.(p. 220)]]

    Progressivism fails because of weakness, complicity or lack of courage with regard to its adversary

    To take one example, Katz explains that the inability of a part of the Left in Ecuador to see the danger represented by the election of the banker Guillermo Lasso led to the latter’s victory in 2021, whereas an alliance between the components of the Left could have led to a different result.

    As a positive example, however, he shows that the Socialism and Liberty Party’s (PSOL) understanding of the importance of giving priority to combating the danger of Jair Bolsonaro’s re-election in 2020—2022, when the PSOL called for a vote in favour of Lula in the first election round, was beneficial and brought about Bolsonaro’s defeat. Because, in fact, Lula’s victory over Bolsonaro came down to very few votes, and if the PSOL had not called for a vote for Lula, it is quite possible that Bolsonaro would have been re-elected. The overwhelming majority of Lula’s votes came from his electoral base, but the PSOL made a significant contribution at the margins to give him the advantage.

    At this point Katz discusses the recent (late 2023) debate within the radical Left in Argentina, part of which did not want to vote for Sergio Massa, the neoliberal Peronist candidate, against the far-Right candidate Milei in the second round. Katz is absolutely right to raise this issue and to stress the importance of standing up to the Right. Yet it is certain that even if the entire Argentine far Left, grouped together in the FIT-U, had called for a vote for the neoliberal candidate Massa, it would still not have led to a defeat of Milei, who won by a huge margin.

    Regarding Chile, Katz highlights the fact that initially there was a major mobilization of the Left in 2021 to prevent the victory of the extreme right-wing Pinochetist candidate José Antonio Kast, which enabled the Left candidate Gabriel Boric to win, but that Boric’s moderation and hesitation led to his defeat in the referendum over the new draft constitution in September 2022. Boric’s interpretation of the rejection of the new constitution — which was in reality quite moderate, whereas he presented it as too radical — ultimately reinforced the Right’s rhetoric, as Boric made concession after concession to them.

    Claudio Katz and the “radical axis”: Venezuela, Bolivia and Nicaragua

    After analysing the policies of moderate progressive governments, Katz turns to what he calls the “radical axis.” I find this part of the book unconvincing. I don’t understand why Katz puts Nicaragua in the same category as Venezuela and Bolivia, when he himself explains that the only thing these three countries have in common is that they are under fire from US imperialism. I don’t feel that a country can be defined as part of a “radical axis” simply because Washington is working to undermine its government.

    It would have been better to develop a specific category in which to include Nicaragua. Nicaragua is a country where there was a genuine revolution that led to victory in 1979. Then came an electoral defeat in February 1990, marking the start of a process of degeneration of the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN) under the leadership of Daniel Ortega. This process was followed by a real betrayal of the previous revolutionary process through an alliance between Ortega and the Right — including its most reactionary components — on various issues, particularly abortion. We should also mention the pro-Washington and pro-IMF turn taken by Ortega’s government. It was in fact this submission to the IMF that led to a popular rebellion in April 2018. Until April 2018, Daniel Ortega’s regime got on very well with the United States and the IMF. It was the IMF that wanted a pension reform that led to a revolt by working-class sectors, particularly young people, which Ortega put down in an absolutely brutal manner, as Katz correctly denounces in this book and in an article dating from 2018. It was after this criminal repression of the social movement that Washington decided to take a clear stand against Ortega’s regime.

    Fortunately, Claudio Katz is critical of Ortega’s repression and makes no secret of the fact that his government subsequently cracked down on any candidates who wanted to run against him in the subsequent elections. It has also put former revolutionary leaders in prison, as Katz points out and denounces. Unfortunately, he does not offer an overall analysis of what has happened in Nicaragua.

 

Unpacking working-class reaction


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AfD protest

First published at Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung.

The ascent of the far right has become a commanding fact of European political life in the past four decades. Since 1989, far-right parties have increased their median vote share by almost 20 percent, while the previous decade has seen them graduate into plausible contenders for government from Poland to France. The latter trend arguably began in Central Eastern Europe in the early 2010s with the election of Viktor Orbán in Hungary and Andrej Duda in Poland, quickly spreading to the Western half of the continent with upsets for far-right parties in Italy, France, the Netherlands, and Germany, among others. Although its ascent is by no means uniform, the momentum, at least for now, seems firmly on their side.

Currently arrayed across three different camps on the European level, perhaps most remarkable about these new far-right forces is their seeming ability to draw working-class support in a way historical fascist and reactionary parties could not. This fact raises difficult but vital questions for any left project in Europe, both now and in the future. How can the new proletarian swing to the right be understood, and more importantly, can it be reversed?

Marxism hardly is an analytical novice to this question. Stuck in American exile in 1941, the Marxist theorist Karl Korsch surveyed the successes of Hitler’s blitzkrieg on Crete and tried, heroically, to offer a class-conscious interpretation. The German offensive, he wrote in a letter to Bertolt Brecht, expressed “frustrated left-wing energy” and a displaced desire for workers’ control. Decades later, Alexander Kluge and Oskar Negt summarized Korsch’s position with reference to the historical background of the German battalions:

. . . in their civilian life, the majority of the tank crews of the German divisions were car mechanics or engineers (that is, industrial workers with practical experience). Many of them came from the German provinces that had experienced bloody massacres at the hands of the authorities in the Peasant Wars (1524–1526). According to Korsch, they had good reason to avoid direct contact with their superiors. Almost all of them could also vividly remember the positional warfare of 1916, again a result of the actions of their superiors, in whom they had little faith thereafter . . . According to Korsch, it thereby became possible for the troops to invent for themselves the blitzkrieg spontaneously, out of historical motives at hand.

Although analytically far-fetched, it is tempting — and consoling — to view the ascendance of Europe’s extreme right through a similar lens. Both new and old provinces conquered — Thuringia, Billancourt, East Flanders, or the suburbs of Vienna — were labour movement strongholds in the twentieth century. There, the old demand for workers’ control seems to have been diverted into xenophobic passion, a longing to overthrow the bourgeois regime replaced by an attempt to smash its weakest subjects. One wants to believe, as did Korsch, that behind the mask of reaction there is still some potentially emancipatory profile, that a left-wing edifice can be rebuilt on the ruins.

Switching sides?

A sizeable body of social-scientific literature built up since the early 1990s, when the European far right achieved its first breakthroughs on the continent, also seems to sanction such a Korschian reading. Together with a growing literature on populism, a “switching thesis” implied that, with the onset of a new, post-industrial society, the European working classes steadily left their abode in Communist and social-democratic parties and migrated to the opposite end of the political spectrum. As Korsch would put it, they deposited their “left-wing energy” elsewhere, in a felicitous convergence of extremes which liberal writers had already detected in the totalitarianisms of the twentieth century.

The thesis continued to haunt political discourse throughout the long 1990s and, with the far right increasingly taking on a social and even anti-European slant, attained a plausibility far beyond the confines of the academe alone. It even led some figures to dub new far-right outfits from the Front National to Jörg Haider’s Freedom Party (FPÖ) workers’ parties, or assign them the title “populist” — still a relatively new addition to the social science vocabulary in the early 1990s.

Its limits were clear to see. Even if it captured some of the rhetorical features of the new far right, which had traded an emphasis on racial identity for cultural specificity, the term all too often allowed them to suppress tainted associations with a post-fascist tradition, and often turned them into freshly appointed stewards for a working class abandoned by its left-wing representatives. At the same time, the term “populist” undoubtedly owed its attraction to the novelty of some of these parties. With no clear military wings and not populated by frustrated veterans, they were hard to compare to their fascist progenitors. Their popularity was driven by the structural decline of party power across Europe, in which voters abandoned their traditional party outfits and joined a newly virtual and undetermined “people”, easily seduced by forces further on the right of the spectrum.

The switching thesis was always more than an analytical device, however. Steadily, it mutated into a fully-fledged political programme, in which left-wing parties were asked to either adjust to and learn from far-right parties, or scout for a new popular base, situated in a new middle class or an increasingly diverse service-sector proletariat. Since their old electorate had left, a new one had to be found. With terms such as “gaucho-lepenisme” or a “red-brown” politics, this literature thereby not only supported a populist interpretation of the new far right; it also beckoned the Left to move rightwards, following the lead of its own ex-electorate and apostles of concern in the commentariat.

Today, the consequence of this switching politics is become even clearer, as establishment conservatives use the notion as an alibi to move further rightwards, while parts of the Left either seek to regain a lost working-class electorate by copying tactics further on the right, or let go of its peripheral constituency altogether.

Yet there was no shortage of critiques of this switching thesis by the early 1990s. They noted that many of the regions now counted as new right strongholds saw higher rates of abstention than others. They insisted that voters who left workers’ parties did so out of a disappointment with the market transitions of the 1990s and 2000s — only faintly captured by the notion of “globalization” — and not out of an ineradicable hatred of foreigners. Critics also insisted that the ties these new voters held with the far right were hardly comparable to the integral social worlds previously offered to them by parties on the Left. The online chat group was not the casa del popolo, and, most importantly, the far right’s social programme lacked any ambition to tackle the growing power of capital.

The result was a twenty-first-century version of the “ecological fallacy” in fascism scholarship: the idea that working-class regions voted fascist in fact obscured the reality that the middle classes in those regions voted fascist, not the working classes themselves, who were always an envious absence from fascist party rolls. Rather than a working-class shift to the right, many exurban workers simply dropped out of politics altogether. Although sections of their class and the new petty bourgeoisie did make a move to the far right — partly out of fear of labour market competition, partly out of xenophobia — they did so hardly as a collective, class-conscious entity.

Fascization without mobilization

The last years have only increased the attractiveness of the switching thesis. In former East Germany, France, Belgium, the United Kingdom, and the Netherlands, the existence of a growing working-class vote no longer reducible to abstentionism seems undeniable. The interpretative war around this vote has been equally strident. Many insist that the rise of the far right should not be understood as wrongly sublimated left-wing libido, as Korsch had it, but as an expression of late-capitalist rot — not an insurgency to be redirected, but an impulse to be quashed.

The essentials of much of this diagnosis are often inarguable: that the class composition of the new far-right voter is not homogenously proletarian, that they are often not responding to events representing any concrete “immigrant threat”, that their actions were incited by both the political class and a growing army of far-right social media entrepreneurs, and that Europe’s rightward lurch owes more to feverish media speculation than to the authentic grievances of the dispossessed. Rather than “concerned citizens”, this critique claims, the base of the new far right consists of revanchist lumpen and middle classes unable to cope with the fact of social change in the twenty-first century. A literature on “neo-fascism” or “late fascism”, represented by authors such as Alberto Toscano and Enzo Traverso, has sought to place the revenge fantasies of the contemporary far-right in this frame, showing how new settings summon old ghosts.

Yet while the word “populist” proves of highly limited use when understanding the new right, the term “fascist” will undoubtedly prove equally constraining. In terms of the favoured ideologemes — from Great Replacement to other ethnonationalist fantasms — the continuity with the twentieth century is hard to deny. In politics as in biology, environment often proves as important as heredity, as the historian Christopher Hill once noted, and contemporary fascists must contend with parameters incomparable to those of their ancestors. These include demilitarization and the absence of a pre-revolutionary threat from the Left. As Dylan Riley has noted, the peculiarity and the specificity of the contemporary far right becomes clear when contrasted with the fact that, traditionally, fascists never were able to retain any solid working-class support — a point of incessant frustration to many far-right cadres.

Europe’s fascists, for one, rose to power in a period of intense social confrontation: Hitler and Mussolini both prevailed after workers’ movements tried to instigate revolutions, and were seen by elites as their best chance to stabilize the social order and re-establish labour discipline. A muscular proletariat is conspicuously absent from the European scene today, fatally weakened by deindustrialization and loose labour markets. In contrast to the 1930s, when fascist street violence flourished, the contemporary far right thrives on demobilization, both electorally and non-electorally.

For instance: Meloni’s party won a majority of votes in an election in which nearly four out of ten Italians stayed home, with turnout down by almost 10 percent. In France, Le Pen’s National Rally has long received its best tallies in parts of the country with the highest voter abstention rates. In Poland, the Kaczynski family behind the Law and Justice party ruled over a country where fewer than 1 percent of citizens are members of a political party.

These are not mass affairs, but rather exercises in orchestrated passivity that hardly tolerate comparisons with twentieth-century mass parties. As David Broder has noted for the Italian case, while “the latest advance for a far-right party in the land of Fascism’s birth surely lends itself to evocative analogies”, this “does not mean that Mussolini’s heirs merely repeat the past in the present, or even that the fascist elements of their culture are always drawn from interwar Italy.”

The data indicate the deeply contemporary character of the Europe’s extreme right surge — the outgrowths of a newly networked radicalism, not a return to Freikorps militancy or Boulangist militarism that seeks catch-up colonies in the east. Hitler and Mussolini promised to forge colonial empires of the kind their French and British competitors had acquired long ago. Their ambition was to break down borders, not to reinforce them. Today’s far right, by contrast, seeks to shield the Old World from the rest of the globe, conceding that the continent will no longer be a protagonist in the twenty-first century, and that the best it can hope for is protection from the postcolonial hordes.

Where does this leave us for an anatomy? As mentioned, both the copycats and the deniers — one seeking to emulate far-right success in working-class sectors, the other abandoning the terrain — face the same problem. The switching thesis has some empirical support, yet it proportionally includes more normative commitment than sober scientific analysis. In terms of support for the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) or even the Western extreme-right vote in general, what is far more striking is its dependence on demobilization rather than remobilization: most working-class voters drop out of politics while some of them migrate to the extreme right, and this small set of defectors is then made to stand in for the entirety of the demobilized class.

Demobilization thus gets mistaken for remobilization — working-class voters are experimenting with new parties, but the main response is a mixture of apathy and retreat, not rebellious defection. Even those voters who migrate to the Right, thereby feeding the optical illusion of a general switch, usually have much weaker ties with those new extreme-right parties than they used to have with their previous left-wing outfits (a pattern clearly visible in the North of France, where Le Pen has taken former Communist strongholds, and in eastern Germany). There, the vote for the extreme right is a secretive, private, individual affair, not an explicit engagement — more passive-aggressive than active, more informal than formal.

Didier Eribon noted in his memoir of his ex-Communist parents, his father’s migration to the extreme right also had to be expressed in a different register from the Communist lifestyle he had adhered to before. “Unlike voting communist, a way of voting that could be assumed forthrightly and asserted publicly”, his father’s new vote “seems to have been something that needed to be kept secret, even denied in the face of some ‘outside’ instance of judgment.” In contrast to the Communist Party, in “voting for the National Front, individuals remain individuals and the opinion they produce is simply the sum of their spontaneous prejudices”, an act carried out in the enclosure of the ballot box.

Dimensions of reaction

Two poles inherent in the switching thesis can therefore be avoided: presenting the new far right as a supposedly authentic expression of working-class grievances, abandoned by an overly progressive Left, or depicting it as an exclusively middle-class and elite outfit which only simulates its proletarian base. Similarly, a middle way between economism and culturalism stops short from reducing the far-right surge to a proletarian rebellion or claiming that its voters somehow hallucinate the fact of socio-economic decline.

Conversely, Europe’s extreme-right surge is thus no twisted expression of “material interests”, but this should not lead us into a form of superstructuralism that represses the economic roots of the current crisis. While a Korschian outlook can lapse into lazy apologism, there is also a species of anti-economism that risks obscuring the social terrain and thereby relinquishing the prospect of changing it. To understand the flammable environment at which Europe’s pyromaniac far right has taken aim, we need less mass psychology and more political economy. Here, the new right is, at its core, an attempt to rhetorically manage and contain the contradiction at the heart of European financialization: an economy dependent on cheap labour for its meagre growth rates, unable to deliver meaningful productivity, with a population that increasingly wants the state to mount some kind of systemic intervention.

One particular factor of neglect is how economic factors underpin the peculiarly schizoid status of immigration in European public life. A cheap supply of labour remained essential in the wake of partial deindustrialization in the 1990s and 1980s, as demographic expansion became necessary to sustain the rising service sector and help European industry retain competitiveness on an increasingly hostile world market. Despite all its rhetorical bombast, conservative parties have done little to alter these fragile growth models in the last decades. For instance: the British Conservative Party did not reduce immigration figures over the last decade, nor articulate even the mildest equivalent of Bidenist “reshoring”, while its base has increasingly been swept up in anger.

Popular dissatisfaction has meanwhile been rising since at least the late 2000s, with a creeping sense in the lower ends of the labour market that even if immigration does not cause low wages, it remains an indispensable part of the low-wage regime to which the British policy elite is committed. What we have witnessed in recent years is the explosion of that discontent, in Britain and elsewhere, in the “hyperpolitical” form that dominates the 2020s: agitation without durable organization, short-lived spontaneism without institutional fortress-building. With a new flock of influencers on the far right, these “trigger points”, as Steffen Mau and his researchers call them, can easily get charged.

There is an inevitably international dimension to the current rise of domestic xenophobia, as well. Is it surprising that nations that style themselves as attack dogs for a declining imperial hegemon, and unconditionally support an ongoing genocide in the Middle East, would see such belligerence ricochet back onto the home front? Both the UK and Germany, having normalized and repeatedly defended the ongoing war crimes in Palestine, have given a strong impetus to those wishing to enact anti-Muslim violence here at home.

Unlike the dominant varieties of antisemitism, anti-Islamic sentiment does not usually engage in projections of global omnipotence. It casts the Muslim as a dangerously ambiguous figure. In the zero-sum world of late capitalism, their ability to retain a minimum of communal cohesion is seen to have better equipped them for labour market competition. Rather than a fear of the other, anti-Muslim feeling is a fear of the same: someone in a position of equal dependence on the market, yet who is thought to be more effective in shielding themselves against its onslaught. At the same time, the Muslim is also seen as a subaltern agent of the abstraction which finance has inflicted on the worlds of post-war stability: someone who is out of place, who is causing “borders and boundaries to erode”, as Richard Seymour puts it.


Breaking through

In 1913, Lenin controversially claimed that behind the Black Hundreds, the reactionary monarchist force which first gave the world the notion of “pogromism”, one could detect an “ignorant peasant democracy, democracy of the crudest type but also extremely deep-seated”. In his view, Russian landowners had tried to “appeal to the most deep-rooted prejudices of the most backward peasant” and “play on his ignorance”. Yet “such a game cannot be played without risk”, he qualified, and “now and again the voice of the real peasant life, peasant democracy, breaks through all the Black-Hundred mustiness and cliché”.

There is no repressed emancipatory core to Europe’s extreme right surge, no “energy” which can be recuperated. In this sense, the kind of desperate hope that Korsch read into the blitzkrieg should be abjured. But underneath the rise of the continental right still lies a universe of misery which it is the Left’s historic task to negate — and sometimes, as Lenin noted, the voice of the post-industrial peasant breaks through all the “mustiness and cliché”.

More dangerously, successful strategies for doing so are in short supply and often more palliative than oppositional. A-to-B marches, the kind that are now taking place in many European cities every month, can be a useful way to assert a political line and remain a minimum requirement of any politics that would stop the far right. But they are inadequate to occupy the deep social void being seized upon by Europe’s new far right.

Anton Jäger is a Belgian historian of political thought who teaches politics at Oxford.



The far right: A reactionary backlash

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Far right

First published in Spanish at Revista Contexto. Translation from Transform Network.

I’ve been reading analyses of the far right for years, without finding one that really offered the key to understanding why these forces have so much support. That was until the last few months, when I read a study in the Financial Times, an old feminist book, and a journal article by two historians. Together, they prompted me to think about the answer that — in a nutshell — I intend to set out here.

The rise of the far right is not an expression of political discontent, nor a social pathology, nor still less an expression of anti-systemic feeling. The growth of the far right in the last decade is a backlash — and, moreover, a global backlash. But a backlash against what? Against a shifting of the terrain.

History has changed

Some academic historians have argued that the most profound change resulting from the acceleration of globalisation is the transformation of the concept of History itself — and that this has much to do with the rise of the far right. I am greatly impressed by their argument.

They explain that world history has tended to be studied and taught as a linear history, a series of stages (which even have names and start- and end-dates) through which humanity moves forward, towards ‘progress’. Because of the European empires, History has been understood as Western history, a tree in whose top branches are the developed nations (the great powers, the empires) led by elite white men who are the masters of technology and of the vision of progress (‘civilisation’, it used to be said), whereas lower down are the nations on the path set out by that model of development, and all the other subaltern groups.

These new historians — whose thinking is described in the article by Hugo and Daniela Fazio which I am suggesting to readers — point out that this concept of history is now unsustainable. The rise of Asia, especially China, is deconstructing this idea of Western history. But it is also deconstructed by the emergence of feminism and anti-racism, with its decolonial message, which have brought a shift away from this vision of History in favour of a much more global and diverse one. They have baptised History as a global history, and done so on the basis of a precious truth, which will be self-evident for those without gender or class blindness: Today, subaltern groups that have been under-represented or made invisible in contemporary history are bursting onto the scene, making new demands with new leaderships and epistemologies, as the myth of the West is dislocated in favour of a much more diverse world.

This displacement generates resentment among those who think that they are losing their privileged position, in a world that no longer sees them as an authority and thus challenges their position of power. The far right is just that: backlash by those who are losing their privileges, or fear losing them. The feeling that it manipulates is resentment: Not anger, not rage, not political disenchantment, but a resentful victimisation, the appeal to the wounded narcissism of those who feel they have lost their leading role in history, at home, or in the workplace. The rise of militarism and war are part of this violent reaction against a world that is shifting the terrain underneath them, and against the wave that is dislodging them from their position.

The fourth wave

One feminist book that had a huge impact in the 1990s was Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women. Its author Susan Faludi denounced the conservative backlash against women’s advancement in those years — insightfully pointing out that this backlash was not because women had achieved full equality, but because ‘it was possible for them to achieve it’. Faludi’s book helped me to understand that the rise of the far right is a reaction, first and foremost (though not only, against the fourth wave of feminism. I assure you: the data is irrefutable.

This 25 January, the Financial Times published a study that made the heads of many analysts of the far right explode. The article showed the youth vote by gender in South Korea, the US, Germany and the United Kingdom. It concluded that there is a yawning gap between the political attitudes of young women (who are far more progressive) and young men (who are more conservative and more likely to support the far right). The most shocking thing is that this is a global phenomenon, happening all over the world — including in Spain:

Ideological differences based on gender sorted by country. Source: Financial Times
Ideological differences based on gender sorted by country. Source: Financial Times

The strangest attempts are made to rationalise all this, often leaving me amazed. They range from claims that women are more ‘moderate’ to the idea that we have ‘less contact with migration’, and other such nonsense. It is obvious, without the gender blindness that pervades academia, that this is the consequence of the fourth wave that has swept the world. When it emerged, almost a decade ago, it did so globally, as a mass movement, expressed through social networks and with a strong intergenerational component.

This is, moreover, a feminist wave that has been more anti-capitalist than previous ones; a feminism that disarms the historical role of patriarchy and has won the battle for the aspiration of equality. The far right is a violent reaction to this displacement, to this dethroning of the pater familias, the dominant male, the maker of history.

Here I think it worth observing that many analyses reduce machismo and racism to moral, cultural attitudes — refusing to reckon with the fact that both constructs are used in capitalism to exploit us further. The self-evident fact that women and migrants are cheaper, indeed all over the planet, doesn’t seem to make a dent in their analysis. They have to go to great lengths to deny the data and continue to insist that women and migrants are minorities and treat us as such, even when the reality is quite the opposite. I almost admire their stubbornness.

I may be wrong, but I sense, moreover, that the analytical blindness is not only gender-based. I detect a stubborn reluctance to accept that there is no direct relationship between economic inequality and the growth of the far right; in other words, economic orthodoxy does not serve to analyse the phenomenon. If this were the case, there would be no way of explaining its success in Scandinavian countries (the least unequal in the world) or the fact that in the country where inequality is most glaring, South Africa, the far right does not even exist. Of course, the economic situation may be a trigger for the growth of the far right, but it is not its cause.

It seems that cold economistic metrics don’t grasp resentment — and resentment is the sentiment that drives backlash. To understand this better, I suggest reading the superb study by Tereza Capela et al. on Korean far-right youth, which concludes, decisively, that their attitudes are exclusively built on resentment and victimisation.

Reactionary whispers

I smell, with trained senses, a certain tendency (from which not even the European left is free) to appease some of the claims of the far right, in the face of the threat that they pose. This is itself a global phenomenon. I am beginning to hear, subtle as a whisper, that perhaps we feminists have gone too far, that we ought to pay more attention to the demands of these young men who are turning to the right, that immigration is a problem, that what’s happening in Palestine is not genocide, that we need to buy more weapons, that the climate crisis is not so fundamental…

I would argue the opposite. The antithesis to the far right — its nemesis — is precisely the defence of feminism, especially of young women and their demands, the concept of class versus nation, the defence of peace, diversity, equality, social justice, solidarity, ecology, and a common world. We must defend them, moreover, with an outlook that overcomes the narrow and hierarchical worldview of the West.

I would argue that the far right is a backlash against the energies with which we subalterns are starting to change the world. But I would also warn — to echo Susan Faludi — that this is backlash not only against change that has taken place already, but also against the possibility of future change. They are reacting violently to change, in order to prevent it from occurring. And that is what the far right is: pure reaction.

Marga Ferré is co-president of Transform Europe.