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Friday, May 08, 2026

Defining Democratic Socialists of America


A User’s Guide to DSA: 5 Debates That Define the Democratic Socialists

Defining Democratic Socialists,” by Paul Le Blanc, first appeared on Against the Current No. 242, May/June 2026. A slightly edited version is now being republished on LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal and Communis with permission from the author and ATC.

A User’s Guide to DSA: 5 Debates That Define the Democratic Socialists
Edited by Stephan Kimmerle, Philip Locker, and Brandon Madsen. 
Seattle, WA: Labor Power Publications, 2025. 459 pages. 
See www.labor-power.org.

A User’s Guide to DSA: 5 Debates That Define the Democratic Socialists serves a dual function. Most obviously, it connects readers with the largest organization on the U.S. Left today — Democratic Socialists of America, whose membership has sky-rocketed from a few thousand mostly aging and inactive old-timers to 100,000 newly-minted socialist adherents. (It has been estimated that only 10% of DSA members are active — which would make the number of DSA activists “only” about 10,000 — significantly larger than any other socialist or communist group in the United States.) These adherents and activists are mostly young. They have been energized not only by the intensifying social, economic, political and environmental crises of the past couple of decades, but also the phenomenal impact of open, self-identified socialists in the electoral arena — from Bernie Sanders to the Congressional left-of-center “squad” headed by the likes of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, Ayanna Pressley and Rashida Tlaib, and the remarkable 2025 mayoral victory of Zohran Mamdani in New York City.

The other function of this valuable collection is to draw readers into a series of discussions and debates among committed DSA members, through which Marxist theory is being connected to politically serious, outward-reaching activism in the United States. These are not critiques from the sidelines but contending reports and proposed battle-plans from those laboring for a transition to socialism in the near future. The book’s 38 articles represent a broad range of opinion within DSA — mostly from members of the more than thirteen political caucuses currently influencing the organization’s thinking and policies. It should be added that the great majority of DSA members belong to no caucus, and a few authors in this volume (including myself) are non-caucus members.

Building a socialist alternative

Groundwork, a substantial component of DSA’s moderate wing, offers this useful listing of “five key interlocking crises in capitalism” (p. 316):

  • First, the existential threat to human civilization posed by the climate crisis.
  • Second, the advancing threat posed by the far right to multiracial democracy.
  • Third, the continuing threat of US imperialism to world peace and the global South’s laboring classes.
  • Fourth, standards of living in the US are in precipitous decline, causing social and economic instability and the possibility of real political realignment.
  • Fifth, attacks on women’s bodily autonomy and the rights of gender and sexual minorities have continued to oppress working people in the US and the world at large.

Groundwork member Ashik Siddique is a co-chair of DSA. The other co-chair is Megan Romer, from the far-left Red Star caucus. She stresses the interlocking aspects of the various issues. “We view them from a socialist perspective and see that none of them stand alone,” she notes. “Immigration is not separate from labor justice, which is not separate from environmental justice, which is not separate from housing rights. They are connected because all of them are symptoms of capitalism” (p. 24).

From a different point on the DSA political spectrum, Reform and Revolution caucus member Philip Locker — an editor of this volume — offers a key definition of socialism that emphasizes its grounding in Marxist essentials: “Understanding the centrality of the working class is at the core of the revolutionary socialist tradition. It was on this basis that Marx argued for the revolutionary idea that socialism is the self-emancipation of the working class. This profoundly democratic idea is the beating heart of authentic Marxism” (p. 304). This is “profoundly democratic” because of how Locker understands the U.S. working class:

The working class, the majority of the US population, is compelled to sell its labor for a wage to survive. This includes teachers, nurses, baristas, tech workers, service workers, construction workers, manufacturing workers, public sector workers, workers at non-profits, etc. It includes both low-paid workers and high-paid workers (who are paid well because they have built strong unions or due to their skills being in high demand for a time). The working class includes blue and white collar workers, manual and intellectual labor, highly skilled and less skilled labor.

He adds: “The working class also includes the family and dependents of wage-earners, such as children, retired workers, and stay-at-home parents in working-class families who work to raise the next generation of workers or to care for the elderly.” More than this, Locker notes, “women are part of the paid workforce more than ever,” and “the working class is disproportionately made up of people of color” (p. 303).

Most DSA members agree with these points from the members of Groundwork, Red Star, and Reform and Revolution. But the organization struggles over what to do about it all. “Our Tasks and Perspectives,” a key Groundwork document reproduced in this book, puts the matter starkly:

One may say that the fundamental tool of Marxist analysis is class, and in the final analysis our goal may be a classless society, but if our organizing does not meet people where they are — in their own experience of their oppression, which includes factors beyond class per se — we can hardly hope to unite the class. To put it simply: we cannot win the class struggle without winning all of our other struggles.

While this also seems to be accepted by most, it is a tall order. A User’s Guide to DSA is designed to help advance the process of sorting this out. Most of the contributions are grouped into five defining debates: 1. How to Fight Trump and Defend Working-Class and Oppressed People; 2. Electoral Strategy and the Democratic Party; 3. Labor Organizing and the Role of Socialists in the Workers’ Movement; 4. How to Change the World?; 5. What Is Socialist Internationalism?

Origins and development

In considering the future of DSA, we should recall its past.

“Historically speaking, there are fundamentally two DSAs: pre-Bernie DSA (1982-2014) and post-Bernie DSA (2015-present),” writes Laura Wadlin, a leader of the influential left-wing caucus Bread and Roses in her useful essay “A Political History of DSA, 1982-2025.” She points out that “only a tiny portion of DSA members were organized socialists before the Bernie Sanders presidential campaign revitalized the idea of ‘democratic socialism’ in 2015,” adding that “many active members now only became socialists in the last few years or months” (p. 48).

DSA emerged under the tutelage of Michael Harrington (1928-1989), a popular, sophisticated Marxist with a strongly reformist orientation. Pupil and comrade of ex-Trotskyist Max Shachtman, he followed Shachtman into the social-democratic Socialist Party of America. Next to the aging warhorse Norman Thomas, Harrington became its most prominent figure. He finally split from Shachtman over the U.S. war in Vietnam and U.S. Cold War foreign policy, both of which his mentor supported. Harrington and his co-thinkers soon connected with “new left” socialists of the New American Movement, and DSA was born in 1982.

A small force of pro-labor and liberal-oriented reformists inside the Democratic Party, DSA nourished close ties with international social democracy, represented by Olof Palme of Sweden, Willy Brandt of West Germany, and such Israeli notables as Golda Meir and Yitzhak Rabin. Harrington believed in a “realignment” strategy which would transform the Democratic Party into a progressive and social-democratic labor party. This aspect of Harringtonite “orthodoxy” is no longer unequivocally embraced even within DSA’s moderate wing.

As young activists began flooding into DSA in 2015, according to some of Harrington’s loyal followers, this orientation was pushed aside by ultra-left and/or Leninist infiltrators (who reject liberal reformism and support Palestinian liberation instead of Zionism). Surviving oldsters adhering to the Harrington orientation have either left DSA (some publicly and angrily, as with Paul Berman and Maurice Isserman) or congregate in a small North Star Caucus which critically supports more centrally engaged DSA moderates.

Perceptions that DSA has suffered infiltration, manipulation, and violation seem inaccurate. Rather, there has been a process of phenomenal (almost overwhelming) growth, with older perspectives being superseded by newer understandings. The ancient mariners among us lived through a similar transformation in the early 1960s, when we and many thousands more radicalizing “New Left” activists flooded into Students for a Democratic Society and turned it into something far more radical (and less clearly-defined) than what our parent group — the moderately social-democratic League for Industrial Democracy — felt was desirable or appropriate.

The new reality bustles with complexity, contradiction, and confusion. The DSA website tells us: “DSA makes room for a variety of strategic approaches to fighting capitalism. Whether you're repairing your neighbors' brake lights, organizing a rent strike in your building, or fighting for public control of electric power, one thing is clear: We're stronger together.” The fact is that there is not agreement in DSA on what strategy can make democratic socialism a reality — on which ways can really help us advance toward socialism. A key part of DSA’s very purpose is to help its members figure out what approaches can actually be effective in bringing socialism into being.

Despite not wholly unjustified complaints about the mind-numbing tyranny of Roberts Rules of Order, however, DSA seems to be a fairly democratic organization. The caucuses have not established a dictatorship, nor have they turned DSA into a factional battleground. The organization seems more serious than that — an interactive collection of caucuses, a work-in-progress.

Discussion and debate

This brings us to the discussions and debates reflected in this book, with diverse evaluations of present realities and attempts to map future directions — but also with flashes from past experience and analysis.

There is much common ground within DSA. Most would be inclined to accept Phil Locker’s point that “global capitalism is mired in a deep crisis, marked by a growing chasm of inequality between nations, and between the capitalist oligarchs and everyone else,” and that “capitalism today means never-ending war, millions fleeing poverty, persecution, and catastrophic climate disaster.” There is also widespread consensus around seeing this as fueling in the United States “a deep polarization of society.” As Locker puts it: “On the right, we have seen the dangerous rise of Trump, a reactionary demagogue mobilizing discontent against immigrants, people of color, women, trans people, and other scapegoats. On the left, democratic socialists Bernie Sanders, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC), and now Zohran Mamdani have sparked — and reflected — a resurgence of socialist ideas.” This socialist resurgence was fueled by “the Great Recession fundamentally [which] discredited the dominant ideology of neoliberalism and its worship of the ‘free market’ as the cure to all social problems.” Locker adds: “This impact was all the greater, given that the crash in 2008 was the culmination of a four-decade-long capitalist offensive overseen by the political establishment of both major parties” (p.295).

Despite such widely shared perceptions, there are serious differences in DSA. While Joe Burns complains that “some of the debate within DSA, frankly, is a little confusing, with people talking past each other” (p. 266), there are also real issues involved.

Those putting this book together helpfully provide three glossaries (one on “What’s What in DSA,” one on “Language of the Labor Left,” and one on contending electoral strategies entitled “Clean Break, Dirty Break, Dirty Stay”) plus a descriptive list of DSA caucuses. This is seasoned with the editors’ sophisticated confession that “each definition reflects a political position, and the meanings are contested” (p. 153). As a minority current within the Reform and Revolution caucus, they emphasize the “willingness to allow space for discussion and debate” (p. 22).* “The existence of caucuses in DSA is a good thing and a sign of its democratic vitality,” they insist, “as long as caucuses are mindful to work in a constructive manner to advance our common struggle against capitalism” (p. 14). They provide URLs to the websites of the various caucuses to assist readers in exploring more fully the thinking from the varied political locations within DSA.

Sarah Hurd of Bread and Roses makes a key point applicable both to DSA and to labor organizing as a whole — despite formal votes, “you can’t force anyone to do something they don’t find worth their time” (p. 261). Some are drawn to small-scale projects that “do good” — while many others reach for engagement with larger struggles to advance socialist goals. Among these, many are drawn to electoralism on behalf of progressive or socialist candidates, while others are more inclined to engage in mobilization and organizing in broad social movements around specific issues. These include trade union protections for workers, providing housing or public transit or health care, and opposing the slaughter in Gaza. Still others reach for a combination of these, but with different proportions of time and energy devoted to one or another component.

There are two wings of the organization — tagged left-wing and moderate wing. (Indeed, who in a socialist organization would want to be stuck with a “right-wing” tag?) And there are contending currents within each wing. It’s worth noting that New York City DSA — whose mayoral candidate was denounced by Donald Trump as a fanatical Communist — is a stronghold of DSA moderates, of whom Mamdani is an outstanding representative.

Two caucuses are predominant among the moderates — the Socialist Majority Caucus (“majority” now less appropriate than it once was) and Groundwork —are inclined to work in the Democratic Party, although with somewhat different rationales. Neither is unified around the old “realignment” perspective. There are many comrades in both caucuses who dismiss the possibility of transforming the Democratic Party into a labor party.

Some in the Socialist Majority Caucus (SMC) — such as David Duhalde, whose essay “Stay Dirty” is reprinted in this book — envisions a permanent status of socialists in the Democratic Party as a left-wing faction, helping to pull the party as a whole in a somewhat more progressive direction. Exploring the SMC website, however, one can find others who do nourish hopes for the Democratic Party embracing the cause of social-democratic reform. In contrast, the dominant trend in Groundwork supports a tactical use of the Democratic Party ballot line through which DSA can run and elect candidates, while at the same time building a strong electoral machine. It anticipates a mass socialist party will someday emerge from this, leaving the shambles of the corporate-capitalist Democratic Party in its wake.

Red Star, Marxist Unity Group, Bread and Roses, Reform and Revolution can be found in the left-wing of the organization and have become a majority bloc in recent years. They continue to accept the tactic of electing socialists by making use of the Democratic Party ballot-line, but they are inclined to approach the matter critically. Transparency and accountability are highlighted, due to a strong tendency for “electeds” to compromise with and adapt to the powers-that-be within the Democratic Party establishment. Many comrades are upset by a recurring tendency for “electeds” to set aside DSA positions that seem politically inconvenient. Whether such offenses should result in public criticisms, dis-endorsement, or even expulsion from DSA is a topic of discussion, with divergent positions being expressed.

A widespread sentiment in favor of breaking, sooner or later, from the Democratic Party is complicated by such details as: how much sooner or how much later; how uniform such a break should be; what would be defining signals that the time has come; etc. The left-wing caucuses also tilt toward preferring union struggles and various social movements to electoralism — though many in the DSA left are also keenly aware that DSA has grown largely through the electoral campaigns of Bernie Sanders, AOC, and other openly socialist DSAers seeking Democratic Party nomination.

Another significant fissure has opened up around what is called “campism,” of which Red Star appears to be the foremost proponent. Campism means aligning with, and being more or less uncritical of, all forces who are in the “camp” that opposes U.S. imperialism. Within that “camp” are authoritarian dictatorships — some claiming to be socialist, and others that are conservative and openly anti-socialist, in some cases ultra-religious. Left-wing DSA member Dan La Botz writes: “Socialist internationalism, as conceived by Karl Marx and other nineteenth and early twentieth century Marxists, was the notion that socialists should express their solidarity with the world’s working classes, with the poor, and with the oppressed of all sorts in all countries.” Yet within the presumably “anti-imperialism” camp one can find widespread oppression and exploitation and systematic violations of workers’ rights. La Botz concludes that campism represents “a profound deformation of socialist internationalism” (pp. 347, 349).

Responding to such perspectives, Red Star militant Sam Heft-Luthy argues for an “informed and vigorous solidarity with socialist and anti-imperialist movements” and a willingness to learn from “modern socialist societies.” Only such “an open and positive spirit of international solidarity” can provide “a positive program for anti-imperialism” to guide DSA’s efforts (pp. 362-3, 366). The debate sharpened around the evaluation of Hamas in the Palestinian struggle — particularly after the Hamas-led massacre of civilians of October 7, 2023, consequently used as a pretext by the Israeli government for a two year-long genocidal assault on Gaza’s Palestinian population. A polemic within DSA by Red Star members, entitled “We Do Not Condemn Hamas, and Neither Should You” was followed by one from Reform and Revolution members, “We Do Not Tail Behind Hamas, and Neither Should You.” Both polemics can be found in A User’s Guide to DSA (pp. 380-7, 385-405).

Another point of difference involves how to characterize Trumpism. Some matter-of-factly refer to it as fascism — for example, Jesse Hagopian’s comment on the dissonance in the United States of “the ‘world’s greatest democracy’ [now being] under the rule of a fascist” (p. 103) — while others agree with Stephan Kimmerle:

Unlike classical fascism, Trump’s presidency has not eradicated all forms of democracy or working-class self-organization. Although he has steered towards a more authoritarian system, his methods rely on the capitalist state (ICE etc.), rather than the direct force of fascist paramilitary gangs on the streets, to implement policies like arresting immigrants and assaults on the left. The system still retains checks and balances and a separation of powers, despite an increasing and threatening concentration of power in the executive (p. 138).

Yet this almost seems a terminological quibble. Most DSAers favor making use of still-existing democratic opportunities to agitate, organize and massively mobilize against the anti-democratic, repressive, oppressive activities of the Trump regime.

Contradictions in the struggle for socialism

Anti-racism and class struggle have been central to discussions in DSA, as has been the tension between political principles and political relevance.

“As despicable as Trump’s relentless attacks on Black people and immigrants have been, they are not merely the product of personal bigotry,” notes Jesse Hagopian. “The fact is, the capitalist system has long relied on racism as a central mechanism for maintaining the power of capital over labor” (p. 95). Drawing on insights of C.L.R. James, he emphasizes the centrality of the anti-racist struggle in U.S. history: “The Black freedom struggle has never only benefited Black people. Black revolt has consistently been the backbeat that moves others to get up off of that thing and struggle for something better — from the abolitionist movement fueling women’s suffrage, to Reconstruction’s public schools and multiracial Union Leagues” (p. 97), down to more recent times, as “the foundational groove of Black struggle set in motion the antiwar, student, feminist, Indigenous, LGBTQIA+, working-class movements and strike waves which riffed on that rhythm — each one improvising its own verse while staying in the shared key of liberation” (p. 98). Stressing what some analysts call “intersectionality,” he argues that “struggles against racism, sexism, heterosexism, transphobia, and xenophobia are not distractions from the class struggle — they are the terrain upon which a truly unified, fighting working class must be built” (p. 103).

Rashad X of the Marxist United Group focuses on achieving black liberation through creating “three main things: democratic conditions, safety from racial terror, and economic equality. All this ties to self-determination.” He elaborates: “You can’t have self-determination without an equal say in democratic governance, both within a nation and on a global scale. You can’t have Black liberation if Black people are at risk of facing racial terror, whether from the state, vigilantes, or otherwise. And you can’t have Black liberation without a level of economic equality when it comes to development” (p. 89). He blends two approaches that are sometimes counterposed: African American self-determination and revolutionary integration; he rejects racial separation of revolutionary parties and socialist republics. Questions can be raised about whether these two approaches can be harmoniously blended, and how easily the racial fragmentation of the working class can be overcome with racism so deep-rooted in our history.

Further tensions inherent in the dynamics of the class struggle are pinpointed by other contributions.

Joe Burns — left-wing labor activist who authored Class Struggle Unionism — points out that unions, almost by definition, are an integral part of the capitalist economy: “Even if we have the most militant unions, you’re still negotiating the terms of your exploitation.” Of course, this is the case with unions that are overtly corrupt, also with those led by pro-capitalist and class-collaborationist bureaucracies (“business unions”), but Burns explains that “militant unionism in and of itself cannot resolve the contradiction, because the billionaires are going to keep getting billions.” Such accumulating profits (or accumulating capital) adds up to considerable economic power. “Over time, you give someone more and more power. Guess what? Eventually, they’re gonna use it to crush you.” He concludes: “Employers very much view us as in a fight to the death. They want to exterminate unionism.” Many in the labor movement, even the labor-left, “crave stability and stable labor relations. But that is fiction” (p. 268).

Burns is also critical of the influential left-wing orientation promoted by the late Jane McAlevey. “To me,” he argues, “Jane McAlevey’s approach is very much based on this idea that the working class needs these outside organizers to come in and get them to fight. And so, then it becomes a question of organizing skills and techniques.” But it is a false assumption “that struggle comes from outside the workplace and is imported in there.” Rather, “struggle comes because of the conditions of capitalism, and in particular the conditions and contradictions in that workplace” (p. 265).

Yet another experienced labor activist, Stephan Kimmerle, reflects: “There is a lot of strength in many tactics promoted by Jane McAlevey. However, they need to be combined with the fundamental wisdom of the Rank-and-File Strategy [promoted by revolutionary socialist labor analyst Kim Moody] — the need to organize for a class-struggle approach and a vibrant democracy within the labor movement, against the resistance of the bureaucracy” (p. 283).

An interesting twist comes from Bread and Roses member Jane Slaughter. She appreciates the enthusiasm for successful rank-and-file unionizing actions in the Starbucks chain but raises a significant challenge. She quotes one Starbucks worker: “Oh my gosh, it was a beautiful feeling to know that we did it. We showed up for each other and we didn’t allow these corporations to continuously abuse us. It felt like victory, but also just sweet liberation.” She comments: “It’s an important union struggle; it’s also a coffee shop.” Her point is that “union strategists [must] decide where they need to grow their union in order to achieve power against their corporate counterparts” (pp. 270-271). Yet such strategists are generally connected with the union staffs (or “bureaucracies”) that Burns and Kimmerle warn against. Such matters are wrestled with in contributions throughout this volume.

A “purist” bent prevalent in DSA (as in much of today’s left-wing and progressive movement) crops up in various ways. Many members are not inclined to work with non-socialists who put forward positions that are deemed inadequate. Some shun even non-DSA socialists in different organizations. A “Build DSA” sentiment often cuts across activist engagement with broader coalitions and consequent abstention from real struggles. Such self-isolation is critically targeted by more than one author in this collection. “We can’t retreat within ourselves,” insists David Vibert, a Bread and Roses activist in the Zohran Mamdani campaign. “We need to maintain and build on the coalition that Zohran assembled not to just help him pass reforms from on high down to us, but because a militant coalition of the working class is the true hope for achieving socialism in the United States” (p.234). Also relating to the Mamdani are comments of Reform and Revolution minority-ite Philip Locker, speaking to a common criticism on the Left that Mamdani’s campaign program contained merely reforms: “Working people will need to fight for each of these reforms as fiercely as the billionaire class will fight against them” (p. 296).

A few contributors argue for the relevance of the united front orientation advanced in the Communist International of the early 1920s by Lenin, Trotsky, and others. Todd Chretien usefully devotes a whole page to “ABCs of a United Front” (p. 123). Discussing the massive “No Kings” protests against Trump’s policies, Stephan Kimmerle quotes Irish comrade Cian Prendville of the substantial group People Before Profit, who asserts that “we cannot afford to simply stand aside in ‘splendid isolation,’ and criticize from the sidelines,” but adds that a genuine united front cannot be seen as simply a joint campaign in which coalition partners “simply brush differences with partners under the rug.” Rather, “we should fight for united fronts to be arenas of debate and discussion as well” (p. 148). Kimmerle sums up (p. 150): “A United Front approach … entails both: unity in action, even with liberal forces, against Trump, but with full independence, to promote clear socialist and working-class politics against liberalism and Democratic [Party] politics currently leading the movement.”

Learning is crucial in all such discussions, debates, and activist experience. In “Better Fewer, But Better,” Lenin argued against comrades being know-it-alls. Instead, “we must at all costs set out, first, to learn, secondly, to learn, and thirdly, to learn, and then see to it that … learning shall really become part of our very being.” Learning not just from books and study groups, but especially from activist efforts, as we prepare for transformative struggles of the near future. A User’s Guide to DSA advances that process.

Paul Le Blanc, active in the socialist movement for more than five decades, serves on the editorial board of the Complete Works of Rosa Luxemburg (Verso), and is author of such books as Lenin: Responding to Catastrophe, Forging Revolution (Pluto 2023) and A Short History of the U.S. Working Class (Haymarket 2016).

  • *

    In the view of the editors of the book, R&R has shifted away from its original positions in the direction of the dominant politics on the far left of DSA. Examples include a less critical assessment of the reformist character of DSA, a changed approach to the 2024 presidential election compared to the position R&R had in 2020, and a new position on how to win Palestinian liberation.

Saturday, May 02, 2026

 

Lenin, democracy and the anti-Leninist shortcut

Dan La Botz’s essay, “Goodbye to Lenin and Leninism” indicts Vladimir Lenin for the outcomes of the Russian Revolution, directly linking Bolshevik methods to subsequent tragedy: the suppression of opposition, the Cheka, the Kronstadt uprising, the ban on factions, and the erosion of Soviet democracy. The force of this indictment is undeniable; these tragedies are historical facts (Bhatti, Shah, and Bharti 2025, 1-20). Yet a Marxism that refuses to confront defeat honestly abandons its own critical foundation.

La Botz’s argument is weakened by its historical framing. He interprets the revolution’s degeneration primarily as a product of Lenin’s moral failures, largely abstracted from its material context: civil war, foreign invasion, economic collapse, famine, social fragmentation and international isolation. Lenin appears as a moral tragedian rather than an historical actor shaped by objective forces. Such an approach substitutes moral condemnation for historical materialist analysis grounded in concrete conditions.

La Botz highlights the “ratchet effect,” suggesting each authoritarian measure created conditions for further repression. While the Constituent Assembly’s suppression, the Cheka, War Communism, Kronstadt and the ban on factions undeniably restricted working-class democracy, the ratchet metaphor flattens the complexity of these processes. Revolutions are not mechanical sequences; each Bolshevik decision was shaped by the shifting and coercive pressures of war, famine, sabotage and social disintegration.

La Botz draws a straight line from What Is to Be Done? to Joseph Stalin, but this teleological reading obscures substantial complexity. The Bolsheviks seized power amid social collapse and multiple competing pressures: the fall of the old regime, attempts at bourgeois restoration, imperial intervention, peasant demands for land, and workers’ demands for dignity. The soviets emerged organically from these conflicts. The Bolsheviks prevailed because they acted on these demands when every other major party failed to

Anti-Leninist critics often overlook this reality. The Bolsheviks did not secure power solely through manipulation or organisational centralism. Their influence grew because every other major party compromised with the Provisional Government, the war effort, the landlords or the bourgeois order. The Mensheviks and Right Socialist Revolutionaries squandered critical opportunities, restraining the revolution rather than advancing it (Lenin 1917). The Bolsheviks were far from faultless, but they were not a conspiratorial sect isolated from society. In 1917, they gave organisational expression to the revolutionary aspirations of workers, soldiers and peasants (Brovkin 1990, 350–373).

Democracy and class

In examining democratic forms, La Botz presents the Constituent Assembly as the primary democratic alternative, but this framing is insufficiently concrete. The Assembly captured a static electoral snapshot taken during a rapidly shifting revolution, whereas the soviets functioned as living organs of class struggle. A Marxist analysis must always ask: democracy for which class? The Assembly was dominated by parties that no longer reflected the revolution’s real social divisions, especially following the split between the Right and Left Socialist Revolutionaries. The soviets, despite their limitations, were rooted in the ongoing self-activity of workers, soldiers and peasants.

The central issue is not a simple choice between soviets and parliament, but the process by which soviet democracy was subordinated to party-state domination. Serious critique must address how soviet power was displaced by party and state structures under the intense pressures of isolation and civil war, rather than drawing a direct equation between Lenin’s decisions and Stalinism.

This distinction is key. Without it, La Botz’s argument reduces democracy to a formalism that obscures the difference between bourgeois parliamentarism and proletarian democracy. Marxists should neither defend the suppression of working-class political freedoms nor claim universal suffrage in a class society represents the highest form of democracy. Soviets, councils, strike and factory committees, and soldiers' committees are not merely symbolic; they are mechanisms for direct rule by the exploited. The tragedy in Russia was not the Bolsheviks’ devotion to soviet power, but the gradual erosion of that power under civil war, social collapse and bureaucratisation.

Lenin’s conception of the party

La Botz is also too quick to treat Lenin’s theory of organisation as the original sin. While authoritarian tendencies undeniably existed in Lenin’s conception of the party — and figures such as Rosa Luxemburg and Leon Trotsky identified the dangers of his centralism — later “democratic centralist” organisations often degenerated into small-scale bureaucracies of their own. Polemics, however, should not substitute for analysis. The essential question remains: why did Lenin’s organisational model initially resonate so powerfully with revolutionaries?

Tsarist Russia was an autocracy that lacked stable law, a functioning parliament, and basic freedoms of the press, assembly and organisation. Revolutionaries faced arrest, exile, infiltration and death. No loose educational society could sustain a revolutionary movement under such conditions. Lenin’s insistence on discipline, professional revolutionaries and centralised organisation was not mere authoritarianism; it was a considered response to illegality and state repression. One can critique the model’s dangers without pretending that an obvious democratic alternative existed.

La Botz advocates “more democracy” as a solution but does not specify what forms that democracy should take or in what contexts. Moving beyond critique requires proposing concrete democratic structures capable of withstanding both revolutionary and counterrevolutionary pressures. Such structures would include: freely elected soviets at every level, with delegates elected and recallable by their base; pluralism among socialist tendencies and parties to ensure genuine debate within soviets; institutional independence of unions and workplace committees from both party and state; protections for opposition rights, including minority press and assembly freedoms; rotation of offices to prevent entrenchment; and regular congresses and assemblies, where major decisions are openly discussed and voted upon.

Safeguards against bureaucratic overreach, such as transparency requirements, publication of meeting records and strict term limits, are essential. Democratic control over armed forces and militias, with officers elected by rank-and-file soldiers, further anchors accountability. Critiquing Leninist choices without reckoning with the realities of counterrevolution produces moral clarity at the expense of strategic substance; concrete proposals such as these are what can actually guide the construction of democracy during revolutionary upheaval.

Kronstadt

Kronstadt represents the most challenging case. The rebels articulated legitimate demands: free soviet elections, freedom of organisation for socialist and anarchist groups, release of political prisoners, union rights, and an end to party privilege. These demands expressed the profound exhaustion of the revolutionary population. The Bolshevik crackdown was a serious blow to socialist democracy.

Nevertheless, La Botz risks flattening a complex tragedy into a convenient illustration. Kronstadt occurred after years of civil war, famine, blockade, insurrection, economic collapse and White terror. The Bolsheviks feared, with some justification, that any concession could open a breach for counterrevolution. That fear does not justify every action taken, but it clarifies why the issue was never simply “democracy versus dictatorship.”

The same considerations apply to War Communism and the Cheka. These were not socialist achievements but emergency measures adopted under conditions of social collapse. Some became monstrous, generating institutions and practices that later served bureaucratic consolidation. To present them primarily as expressions of Leninist doctrine is misleading; they were, above all, responses to siege conditions.

The Bolsheviks were not governing a stable workers’ republic and resorting to gratuitous coercion. They were governing a starving, invaded and disintegrating country while the former ruling classes attempted to reclaim power with foreign backing. Context does not excuse every action but, without it, criticism collapses into moralising.

Material roots of Stalinism

La Botz’s central weakness lies in his neglect of the international dimension. Lenin recognised that socialism could not be built in isolated, underdeveloped Russia alone. The Bolsheviks staked their future on the prospect of international revolution, particularly in Germany, but that prospect was never realised (Rosenberg 1934).

Once this wager failed, the Russian Revolution was left in isolation: the working class shrank, the soviets lost their vitality, the economy collapsed, and the party was left to administer scarcity. The state took on the burden of national survival. Bureaucracy expanded not simply because of Lenin’s organisational theory, but because a social layer was objectively required to direct labour, allocate scarce resources, discipline the peasantry and hold the country together.

This constitutes the material root of Stalinism. Stalinism was neither the inevitable fulfillment of Leninism nor a mysterious betrayal with no structural explanation. It represented a bureaucratic resolution to the contradiction between a proletarian revolution and the absence of the material and international conditions required for socialism. Leninism did contain elements — substitutionism, top-down centralism, faction suppression, party monopoly — that made this outcome more likely. Yet Stalinism also constituted a qualitative counterrevolution within the revolution: the consolidation of a new bureaucratic ruling stratum over and against the working class.

Against La Botz’s assertion that Lenin led inevitably to Stalin, John Westmoreland argues that the claim Leninism produced Stalinism is a fiction and that “Stalinism was the negation of Leninism” (Westmoreland 2020). A more precise Marxist formulation is that Stalinism emerged from the defeat, isolation and bureaucratic deformation of a revolution that Lenin simultaneously led, defended and, at critical moments, compromised. Lenin was neither wholly innocent nor simply culpable. He was a revolutionary whose politics embodied both the highest aspirations of working-class self-emancipation and dangerous substitutionist tendencies that proved catastrophic under extreme historical pressure.

Lenin as a strategist

This is why “Goodbye to Lenin and Leninism” is an inadequate response. We do not need Lenin as an icon, an artifact, a doctrine or an organisational brand. Lenin’s embalmed figure belongs in the history of failed political cults. Marxists must, however, study Lenin as a strategist of revolutionary rupture, party-building, imperialism, war and state power. To discard Lenin entirely is to discard not only his mistakes but also the fundamental revolutionary question he posed: how can the working class move from protest to power?

La Botz does not provide a substantive answer. He advocates building democratic socialist organisations — a goal few would oppose. But democracy alone is not a strategy. The capitalist class commands a state apparatus: courts, police, prisons, borders, banks, media, armies and, when needed, fascist reserves. A revolutionary movement requires organisation, discipline, leadership and the capacity for decisive action. The alternative to bureaucratic centralism is not vague democratic moralism, but a genuinely democratic revolutionary organisation grounded in the self-activity of the working class.

This requires rejecting the party’s monopoly over the working class. It entails defending the existence of factions and tendencies, and guaranteeing the independence of unions, councils, social movements and organs of struggle. It requires recallable delegates, open debate, pluralism among working-class parties and protection of the socialist opposition. It also means establishing workers’ control over production, rather than limiting change to state ownership. Soviets must function as living institutions, not as formalities. The party should seek leadership through political persuasion, not through administrative command.

These principles are not abstract ideals. In Argentina’s recuperated factories, workers have established elected workplace assemblies that make major decisions collectively and allow delegates to be recalled at any time (Tauss 2014). In Chile’s social uprising, horizontal networks played an essential coordinating role, though debate continues over whether such networks can sustain mobilisation without physical anchors: classrooms, neighbourhoods, workplaces and organic friendships (Joignant and Garrido-Vergara, 2025).

Drawing on these experiences, contemporary organising can ground democratic practice in collective control, accountability and the genuine exercise of power from below. No revolutionary politics can avoid coercion, rupture and confrontation with the old order. The bourgeoisie will not be voted out of existence and quietly accept defeat. Any serious socialist revolution will face sabotage, capital flight, legal obstruction, media hysteria, police resistance, armed reaction and imperial pressure.

To defend against these threats, democratic forms of self-defence become necessary. This could include workers’ militias or self-defence units accountable to elected assemblies, legal defense committees to protect activists from repression, rapid response teams to counter state violence, and solidarity funds for supporting those targeted by the authorities. All such forms must be firmly anchored in the movement’s democratic structures to prevent the rise of unaccountable security bodies and maintain the trust and participation of the working class. The working class will need democratic organs capable of defending the revolution.

Neither Lenin cult nor anti-Leninist shortcut 

The lesson of Russia is not that power corrupts and should therefore be avoided. That is anarcho-liberal despair. The lesson is that working-class power must remain democratic, pluralist, internationalist and rooted in mass participation — or it will be captured by a bureaucracy claiming to act in the class's name.

Lenin must be criticised rigorously: the ban on factions, the suppression of Kronstadt, one-party rule, the subordination of unions, and the roots of substitutionism, all demand serious reckoning. But that criticism should be conducted from within a Marxist framework, not from the standpoint of a disillusioned liberal democrat startled by the violence and complexity of revolutionary history.

La Botz’s essay is valuable in reminding us that socialism without democracy degenerates into domination. Yet it falls short by portraying Leninism primarily as a sequence of authoritarian choices, rather than a contradictory revolutionary politics forged under extreme historical pressure. The task is not simply to reject Lenin, but to discard Leninism as dogma while preserving the essential questions Lenin posed: organisation, power, revolution, imperialism and the state.

The future socialist movement requires neither a Lenin cult nor an anti-Leninist shortcut that confuses renunciation with strategy. It needs what the Russian Revolution embodied at its best and forfeited at its worst: the self-emancipation of the working class, organised democratically, acting internationally, and taking power without surrendering it to a party-state that rises above the class itself. 

The urgent task is to build organisations and movements, where democracy is not merely an aspiration but a lived practice — and to carry that practice into every site of struggle, so that the possibility of genuine working-class power is renewed in our own time.

Anthony Teso was an activist in the late 1960s and early ’70s and is currently a member of the Democratic Socialists of AmericaTempest Collective and Solidarity in the United States.

References

Bhatti, Gul-i-Ayesha, Syed S. Shah, and Simant S. Bharti. “The Political Economy of Revolution: Examining the Transition From Marxist–Leninist Economics to Russian State Capitalism.” Journal of International and Area Studies 32, no. 2 (2025): 1-20. https://doi.org/10.1177/18793665251401934

Brovkin, Vladimir. “Workers‘ Unrest and the Bolsheviks‘ Response in 1919.” Slavic Review 49, no. 3 (1990): 350-373. https://doi.org/10.2307/2499983

Editors. “Constituent Assembly.” Britannicahttps://www.britannica.com/topic/Constituent-Assembly-Russian-government

Editors. “Kronstadt Rebellion.” Britannicahttps://www.britannica.com/event/Kronshtadt-Rebellion

Editors. “Russian Civil War | Casualties, Causes, Combatants, & Outcome.” Britannicahttps://www.britannica.com/event/Russian-Civil-War

Joignant, Alfredo and Garrido-Vergara, Luis. “Revisiting the Chilean Social Uprising: Explanations, Interpretations, and Over-Interpretations.” Latin American Research Review, 2025 https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/latin-american-research-review/article/revisiting-the-chilean-social-uprising-explanations-interpretations-and-overinterpretations/119A011B3A7F0E58F8BAEE0C4C7EDCDC

Lenin, Vladimir. “The Russian Revolution and Civil War.” Marxists.org (1917). https://www.marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1917/sep/29.htm.

Rosenberg, Arthur. A History of Bolshevism: From Marx to the First Five-Year Plan. Chapter 11. https://www.marxists.org/archive/rosenberg/history-bolshevism/ch11.htm

Tauss, Aaron. “Argentina’s Recuperated Workplaces.” Workerscontrol.net. 2014. https://www.workerscontrol.net/authors/argentina%E2%80%99s-recuperated-workplaces

Westmoreland, John. “Did Lenin inevitably lead to Stalin?”, Counterfire. 2020 https://www.counterfire.org/article/did-lenin-inevitably-lead-to-stalin/


Saying goodbye to Lenin?

Lenin seagulls 2

In “Saying Goodbye to Lenin?,” Paul Le Blanc engages in a critical dialogue with Dan La Botz’s “Goodbye to Lenin and Leninism,” as published in LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal. Le Blanc’s response is appearing simultaneously on LINKS and Communis.

Dan La Botz, a scholar, activist, and writer of merit and distinction has just published a consequential essay. He declaims “Goodbye to Lenin and Leninism” (and really means it). The publication of this essay may well be considered an intellectual tour de force, taking its own place in a long debate which has unfolded over more than a century.

In the wake of the 1917 Russian Revolution, and especially during the Red Decade of the 1930s, significant numbers of intellectuals and workers believed socialist revolution was the wave of the future — and for many of them, Vladimir Lenin represented its glowing symbol. In stark contrast, by the 1950s comparatively few left-of-center scholars and intellectuals in “the West” were inclined to uphold Lenin’s heritage. Of course, substantial countervailing materials of varying quality emanated from the massive Stalin-influenced Communist movement, but also from the surviving fragments of Trotskyism. These were generally dismissed (in at least a few cases quite unfairly) by those predominant in the intellectual mainstream. But hostility towards Lenin and Leninism was certainly the norm.

There were a few with some standing among serious intellectuals and scholars who represented a countercurrent. One could count them on one’s fingers and toes and still have a few digits left: Isaac Deutscher, E.H. Carr, Eric Hobsbawm, Erich Fromm, Herbert Marcuse, C.L.R. James, Raya Dunayevskaya, Hal Draper, Ernest Mandel, Arno Mayer, even (mostly between the lines, but sometimes explicitly) Hannah Arendt. This small group hardly offered an uncritical view of Lenin, and by no means marched in lockstep on all matters. With exceptions here and there, few considered themselves to be Leninists, but they all put forward — at least sometimes — sympathetic perspectives on Lenin. Such perspectives were generally ignored, dismissed, marginalized. To put it in a more contemporary language, sometimes individuals giving voice to such views were “cancelled” altogether.

Pride of place was given, instead, to those producing works that tilted strongly toward the rejection of Lenin, his ideas, and his efforts. Among the most prominent were such figures as Sidney Hook, Bertram D. Wolfe, James Burnham, Leonard Schapiro, Daniel Bell, Isaiah Berlin, Raymond Aron, Will Herberg, Alfred G. Meyer, Robert V. Daniels, Walt Rostow, Jeanne Kirkpatrick, and Richard Pipes. These included a fair number of former leftists and ex-Leninists. Many occupied positions of considerable influence in the intellectual mainstream — especially in universities and anti-Communist governmental agencies.

Reflecting the impact of recurring waves of radicalization over the past five decades, however, there has been an immense amount of new and important scholarship opening the way for more serious — and sympathetic — considerations of Lenin and the Leninist heritage. One can find this in the work of Moshe Lewin, Alexander Rabinowitz, Ronald Suny, Lars LihJohn Riddell, Tamas Krausz, Kevin Anderson, Alan Shandro, Jodi Dean, August Nimtz, Lara Doud, Alla Ivanchikova, and many more. Much of it was reflected in the four month-long “Leninist Days” series held between January and May 2024, and much of it will be represented in the forthcoming Cambridge Companion to Lenin.

It is, however, within different circles that Dan is inclined to focus his attention: among the rising numbers of young left-wing activists (including in the ranks of the increasingly substantial Democratic Socialists of America). They are wrestling with the question of questions — what is to be done? — and some have been giving attention to what might be usefully gleaned from the Leninist tradition. It is precisely here that Dan La Botz’s contribution is designed to have the most vibrant impact.

I have much respect for Dan. Although I knew I would not agree with him on all matters, I also looked forward to what he might bring to the collective process of understanding of Lenin — especially at this moment in history. And yet Dan’s essay is profoundly disappointing. One salient feature is the fact that he essentially ignores the new studies that have been pushing forward over the past thirty years. Instead, we are treated to an essay reflecting the “mature” (de-radicalized) Sidney Hook and Bertram D. Wolfe of the 1950s and 1960s. Nor does Dan offer much — aside from impressionistic tidbits and undocumented or lightly documented assertions — about how all of this relates to activist efforts of today and tomorrow.

To seriously contest all that Dan puts forward would require a book — or even several books. I certainly do not have time for that, nor would many readers be inclined to embark on such a reading project. In what follows I will offer only a brief and punctual critique of what Dan has to say.1

Not the Christ (or the Anti-Christ)

A positive feature of Dan’s article involves a very healthy refusal to go along with the deification of Lenin. “Consider this: after his death in 1924, at the age of 53, he was virtually canonized, his embalmed body in its open casket in his tomb in Red Square became a place of pilgrimage for tens of millions of the Communist faithful.” Among the many revolutionaries who shared this healthy disgust was Lenin’s close comrade and companion of many years, Nadezhda Krupskaya, who hoped to head off such an atrocity with this public statement:

Comrades, workers and peasants! I have a great request to make of you: do not allow your grief for Ilych to express itself in external veneration of his person. Do not create memorials to him, palaces named after him, magnificent celebrations in his memory, etc. All of this meant so little to him in his lifetime: he found it all so trying. Remember how much poverty and disorder we have in our country. If you want to honor the name of Vladimir Ilyich, build day care centers, kindergartens, homes, schools … etc., and most importantly try in all things to fulfill his legacy.2

But as Dan rightly complains, the legacy of Lenin’s ideas “received similar treatment.” Lenin was turned into “the god of a state religion,” a religion crafted by a bureaucratic clique, headed by Stalin, bent on providing justification for its own power. As Dan notes, even opponents of Stalin were not immune from the lure of treating Lenin’s ideas not as containing notions that might be right or wrong, but rather as holy writ which could not be questioned by true revolutionaries. (Sadly, the same is true of what is written by other revolutionaries — Karl Marx, Leon Trotsky, Rosa Luxemburg, Mao Zedong, and more.) Recoiling against such toxic stuff, Dan concludes his essay with these wise words:

One does not need Lenin to be a socialist or a revolutionary. One does not need Lenin to create a socialist organization. One needs only socialist principles, democratic discussion and members’ commitment and self-discipline. Our socialist organizations must be genuinely and thoroughly democratic, including in their relations with the labor and social movements. Democracy is at the heart of our socialism.

One could agree completely with this (as I think Lenin himself would have), while adding that it is still the case that socialists of our own time might have something useful to learn from Lenin and his comrades, not only to help them understand what happened in history, but also to help them sort through what might make sense in our present-day situation. Lenin was surely not right about everything — but just as surely, he had to be right about some things.

While acknowledging that Lenin “was an extraordinary political leader,” Dan correctly insists that “we must be discerning to discover the significance of Lenin’s thought and work.” But what he offers in this essay does not seem truly “discerning” — it certainly does not stand as a serious effort to participate in the process of exploring how and why things unfolded as they did in history. Instead, it seems crafted to achieve a specific political outcome: say good-bye to Lenin and get others to do likewise.

Why does Dan believe it is important to achieve such outcome? It seems that this paragon of revolutionary virtue has for him become the opposite:

Lenin’s experience, his life and his work, both intellectual and practical, brought him into conflict with the underlying principles of Marxism and democratic socialism. Most importantly, they broke with the idea that a socialist revolution and the creation of a socialist society would have to be democratic … Lenin’s conception of the party was from the beginning authoritarian, and as the man who dominated the party’s leadership, he was the ultimate authority.

This culminated in the creation of the Stalinist order — or as Dan puts it: “Lenin gives Stalin power to run the one-party state.” James Burnham was apparently on target in 1945 in arguing that Stalin was truly Lenin’s heir: “There is nothing basic that Stalin has done … nothing from the institution of terror as the primary foundation of the state to the assertion of a political monopoly, the seeds and even the shoots of which were not planted and flourishing under Lenin.”3

To the extent that such things are true, it is essential to inoculate socialist activists of today and tomorrow from such poisonous influence. But the historical reality does not conform to what Dan seems to believe. Before moving to political conclusions, it might be useful to give a few examples of serious flaws in Dan’s historical account.

Lenin’s conception of the party

Lars Lih, in his massive study Lenin Rediscovered, coined the term “textbook version of Lenin” in reference to anti-Lenin distortions predominant among Cold War scholars, which were recycled over and over again throughout the English-speaking world. He hilariously skewered them with all the skill of someone shooting fish in a barrel. Unfortunately, Dan seems quite under the spell of this warped textbook Lenin. To be sure, this is not how he understood Lenin’s ideas when he was a Leninist militant, before breaking from the “illusions” of his youth.

Be that as it may, Dan now presents a malformed historical understanding in the account offered to his readers. Not everything he says is wrong. He correctly notes, for example, that a majority of delegates to the second congress of the Russian Social Democratic Labor Party (RSDLP) rejected the appeal of the General Jewish Labor Bund to be able to organize Jewish workers separately, causing the Bund to walk out of the congress. Then he asserts this “meant that Lenin’s followers were now the majority, or Bolsheviks, while Julius Martov’s adherents were the minority, the Mensheviks. With the Bundists out of the way, Lenin presented his plan for party organization, What Is To Be Done?, leading to the debate with Martov and his followers.” Dan adds that “Martov had not written a single comprehensive document such as Lenin’s” — which is also true, but at this point his account is already going seriously wrong.

It should be emphasized that What Is To Be Done? was not simply Lenin’s “comprehensive document.” At this point in time (before the Bolshevik-Menshevik split), what Dan calls Lenin’s “followers” were, in fact, co-thinkers gathered around the Marxist paper Iskra. A different Dan — Theodore Dan, an RSDLP comrade who later became a leader of the Menshevik faction under Martov — offers an important insight. It was he who smuggled the first copies of this work into Russia, and later explained that “the basic objective of What Is To Be Done? was the concretization of the organizational ideas formulated in the Iskra program,” adding that “Potresov [another prominent RSDLP militant who would soon be a Menshevik] expressed the attitude of all members of the editorial board and the closest contributors to Iskra when he wrote Lenin (22 March 1902): ‘I’ve read your little book twice running and straight through and I can only congratulate its author. The general impression ... is superlative.”4 

Lenin himself later insisted that this work “is a summary of Iskra tactics and Iskra organizational policy in 1901 and 1902. Precisely a ‘summary,’ no more and no less.”5 Martov felt no need to write something that had already been written by his pro-Iskra comrade Lenin. Nor was it this document that resulted in the Lenin-Martov rupture. Lenin and Martov were in conflict at the RSDLP’s 1903 congress not about the conceptions in Lenin’s 1902 book, but around two different issues.

The first issue, as Dan La Botz points out, involved Lenin’s disagreement with Martov’s belief that party membership should include “activists who accepted the party’s program, supported the party financially, and worked under the “guidance of one of its organizations.” Lenin, on the other hand, insisted that party membership should include “personal participation in one of its organizations,” because Martov’s more elastic definition “opens the door to all the elements of confusion, vacillation, and opportunism.” Lenin was not happy that he lost the vote on this, but he was hardly inclined to split the RSDLP over the matter.6

Dan aptly summarizes the second issue dividing Lenin and Martov: “Later at that congress, there were two proposals for the Iskra editorial board — to include six comrades (Georgi Plekhanov, Pavel Axelrod, Vera Zasulich, Lenin, Martov, and Alexander Potresov) or three (Plekhanov, Lenin and Martov). This led to a split after Lenin’s proposed 3-person board won the vote and Martov refused to accept the decision.”

Dan fleetingly offers a reasonable summary of Lenin’s conception of organization: “Lenin called for an open debate on issues within the party to be followed by a democratic decision and then, the decision having been made, by unity in action.” Of course, the Mensheviks also agreed with this approach in principle, but they ended up interpreting it far more loosely.

By 1904, a deeper fissure opened up over the question of whether the working class should form an alliance with the capitalists against the Tsarist monarchy (the Menshevik position) or whether a worker-peasant alliance was needed to stand against both the monarchy and the capitalists (the Bolshevik position). Dan cites approvingly Rosa Luxemburg’s 1904 polemic with Lenin, which leans toward the Menshevik position on organizational matters — but as time went on, her thinking shifted. By 1911 (while still disagreeing with what she saw as Lenin’s rigidity) she was writing in exasperation about the Mensheviks that “there is no place in the ranks of the party of the revolutionary proletariat for this liquidationist, opportunist purification. There is no serious difference in the political evaluation of the Mensheviks between us and Lenin’s current.”7

Authoritarian personality?

Certain passages in Dan’s essay give a sense of Lenin as a quintessential authoritarian. He tells us: “Several leading socialists were fiercely critical of Lenin based on their reading of Lenin’s What Is To Be Done? and other writings such as his pamphlet, Two Tactics of Social-Democracy in the Democratic Revolution, their personal familiarity with Lenin, and their observations of his leadership of the Bolsheviks.”

Dan goes on to make generalizations about specific leading socialists who had bad if not terrible things to say about Lenin: Luxemburg, the pre-1917 Trotsky, David Riazanov, and Maxim Gorky. We will return to this point shortly — but we should also note that he says little about the specific content of the writings that he implies they did not like. There is little that he provides about What Is To Be Done? (of which we have already spoken) and he actually has nothing at all to say about the content of Two Tactics of Social-Democracy in the Democratic Revolution. We will deal more substantially with this 1905 work later in this response.

On the allegation that Lenin actually displayed an authoritarian personality, Dan provides nothing to prove his point. This is important, given that there is considerable evidence that seems to go the other way. Not that Lenin was one-dimensionally “good.”

A cousin of Winston Churchill, the sculptor Clare Sheridan, caught the complexity as she labored to mold a likeness of the revolutionary leader in 1920. Lenin’s condition for allowing her to do this was that he not be interrupted in his work — for example, when a worker came in to discuss important matters with him. She offered this description: 

The Comrade remained a long time, and conversation [with Lenin] was very animated. Never did I see anyone make so many faces. Lenin laughed and frowned, and looked thoughtful, sad, and humorous all in turn. His eyebrows twitched, sometimes they went right up, and then they puckered together maliciously.8

The highly respected Lenin scholar Carter Elwood (if anything anti-Leninist in his own orientation) has emphasized in his final collection of penetrating essays, The Non-Geometric Lenin, that political idolaters and many critics who focus exclusively on his revolutionary politics miss “a man with non-revolutionary interests and human foibles.” But “neither the hagiographic nor the linear Lenin was a very interesting individual.” There were more dimensions to this person. Elwood notes “he was at times considerate and friendly, or on other occasions condescending and demeaning, in the same fashion as many other people are when confronted with complex personal problems.” He adds that “a balanced and comprehensive view of Lenin” requires going beyond politics “to study his relations with those around him” and as “a person with normal interests in food, drink, holidays and tramping through the mountains.”9

Essential details of this “non-geometric Lenin” have, in fact, long been available. According to so sharp a political opponent as the prominent Menshevik Raphael Abramovitch, who knew him personally and spent time visiting him and his companion Nadezhda Krupskaya in their 1916 Swiss exile, “it is difficult to conceive of a simpler, kinder and more unpretentious person than Lenin at home.” Martov never forgave this erstwhile friend who came to develop, in his opinion, “that contempt and distrust for people which contributed so much to his emergence as a leader.” But Martov also concurred with others that there were not “any signs of personal pride in Lenin’s character,” that he sought, “when in the company of others, an opportunity to acquire knowledge rather than show off his own.”10

Isaac Don Levine cited these comments in a 1924 study of Lenin. This Russian-born US journalist was uncompromisingly critical of Lenin and became a pillar of anti-Communism. But quite familiar with the details of his life, Levine commented that the Communist leader “derived genuine pleasure from associating with children and entertaining them,” and that he had an “effeminate weakness for cats, which he liked to cuddle and play with.” The knowledgeable Levine reported that other enthusiasms included bicycling, amateur photography, chess, skating, swimming, hunting — though Lenin was sometimes not inclined to actually shoot the animals he hunted (“well, he was so beautiful, you know,” he said of a fox whose life he refused to take). 

According to one acquaintance, British diplomat Bruce Lockhart, he was “the father of modern ‘hiking’ … a passionate lover of outdoor life.” And, of course, Lenin loved music. “During his life in Switzerland Lenin immensely enjoyed the home concerts that the political emigrants improvised among themselves,” the journalist reported. “When a player or singer was really gifted, Lenin would throw his head back on the sofa, lock his knees into his arms, and listen with an interest so absorbing that it seemed as if he were experiencing something very deep and mysterious.”11

Other, more explicitly political qualities were naturally also emphasized by the shrewd anti-Communist Levine — those of a personality “concise in speech, energetic in action, and matter-of-fact,” with an unshakeable faith in Marxism, although “extraordinarily agile and pliant as to methods,” with an “erudition” that could be termed “vast.” His “capacity to back up his contentions [was] brilliant.” While he had an ability “to readily acknowledge tactical mistakes and defeats,” he was never willing to consider “the possible invalidity of his great idea” (revolutionary Marxism). Levine concludes: 

The extraordinary phenomenon about Lenin is that he combined this unshakeable, almost fanatic, faith with a total absence of personal ambition, arrogance or pride. Unselfish and irreproachable in his character, of a retiring disposition, almost ascetic in his habits, extremely modest and gentle in his direct contact with people, although peremptory and derisive in his treatment of political enemies, Lenin could be daring and provocative in his policies.12

A shrewd and knowledgeable anti-Communist, George F. Kennan, has insightfully suggested the difference between the leadership qualities of Lenin and Stalin. Serving in the U.S. embassy in Moscow from the early 1930s to the late 1940s, and fluent in Russian, it was part of his job to assess Soviet leadership. He later commented that Lenin 

was spared that whole great burden of personal insecurity which rested so heavily on Stalin. He never had to doubt his hold on the respect and admiration of his colleagues. He could rule them through the love they bore him, whereas Stalin was obliged to rule them through their fears.13

What of the socialist critics of Lenin whom Dan cites — Luxemburg, Trotsky, Gorky, Riazanov? Here we find fluctuating attitudes and mixed feelings, which included respect and affection.

In 1911, Luxemburg wrote to a friend: “Yesterday Lenin came, and up to today he has been here four times already. I enjoy talking with him, he’s clever and well educated, and has such an ugly mug, the kind I like to look at.” Nor was she alone in being drawn to Lenin’s charm. “I have never met anyone who could laugh so infectiously as Vladimir Ilyich,” commented Maxim Gorky. 

It was even strange that this grim realist who so poignantly saw and felt the inevitability of great social tragedies, the man who was unbending and implacable in his hatred of the capitalist world, could laugh so naively, could laugh to tears, barely able to catch his breath.14

Trotsky agreed: 

At some gatherings at which there were not many people, Lenin would sometimes have a fit of laughter, and that happened not only when things went well, but even during hard and difficult moments. He tried to control himself as long as he could, but finally he would burst out with a peal of laughter which infected all the others. 

Not surprisingly, however, Trotsky also stressed Lenin’s political intensity:

The whole of Marx can be found in The Communist Manifesto, in the preface to his Critique, in Das Kapital. Even if he were not the founder of the First International, he would forever remain what he had been till now. Not so Lenin, whose whole personality is centered in revolutionary action. His scientific works were only preliminary to action. If he had never published a single book, he would forever have entered history just as he had entered it now: as a leader of the proletarian revolution, a founder of the Third International.15

George Kennan’s insightful reflections on the political impact of Lenin’s personal qualities are also worth considering:

Endowed with this temperament, Lenin was able to communicate to his associates an atmosphere of militant optimism, of good cheer and steadfastness and comradely loyalty, which made him the object of their deepest admiration and affection and permitted them to apply their entire energy to the work at hand, confident that if this work was well done they would not lack for support and appreciation at the top of the Party. In these circumstances, while Lenin’s ultimate authority remained unquestioned, it was possible to spread initiative and responsibility much further than was ever the case in the heyday of Stalin’s power.16

This brings us to David Riazanov — the remaining Lenin critic Dan tells us about. He was a brilliant, pioneering, compulsively productive Marx scholar, and an uncompromisingly independent revolutionary who John Reed remembered as “a bitterly objecting minority of one.” The Marx-Engels Institute flourished from 1919 to 1930 under his directorship, despite the fact that he crossed swords with Lenin and other comrades more than once. 

The bureaucracy was tightening its grip when he argued at the 1924 party congress that “without the right and responsibility to express our opinions, this cannot be called the Communist Party.” In a speech at the Institute of Red Professors, he declared: “I am not a Bolshevik, I am not a Menshevik, and I am not a Leninist. I am only a Marxist, and as a Marxist, I am a communist.” Yet his prestige continued to soar, and among his important contributions was an outstanding, widely read popular study Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels: An Introduction to Their Lives and Work.17

In 1927, the same year that Riazanov was awarded the Lenin Prize, Stalin visited the Marx-Engels Institute. Noting prominently displayed portraits of Marx, Engels, and Lenin, he asked: “Where is my portrait?” Riazanov’s revealing answer: “Marx and Engels are my teachers; Lenin was my comrade. But what are you to me?” This attitude certainly contributed to his doom and that of the Marx-Engels Institute.18

Opponent of democracy?

Dan tells us: 

Lenin’s experience, his life and his work, both intellectual and practical, brought him into conflict with the underlying principles of Marxism and democratic socialism. Most importantly, they broke with the idea that a socialist revolution and the creation of a socialist society would have to be democratic.

Dan’s rejection of this rupture is absolute and uncompromising: “Democracy is at the heart of our socialism. Luxemburg was right: there is no socialism without democracy, and no democracy without socialism.”

Yet Dan’s eloquent denunciation profoundly distorts Lenin’s life and work. For example, the Mensheviks rejected Lenin’s 1905 classic Two Tactics of Social-Democracy in the Democratic Revolution because it polemicized against their strategic orientation of an alliance of workers with liberal capitalists to overthrow the tsar. Instead, Lenin insisted on a revolutionary alliance of the workers and peasants to overthrow the tsarist order and establish a bourgeois democracy (which he and most other Marxists believed would provide a basis for a future working-class socialist revolution). As the Menshevik Raphael Abramovitch complained, this added up to “a bourgeois revolution without the bourgeoisie.”19

But neither did Lenin’s polemic project a revolution without democracy. On the contrary, Lenin argued that “both the direct interests of the proletariat and those of its struggle for the ultimate aims of socialism require the fullest possible measure of political freedom, and, consequently, the replacement of the autocratic form of government by the democratic republic” — a point repeated throughout this work, and one on which Bolsheviks and Mensheviks agreed. But he went on to make the essential Bolshevik point: 

Only the proletariat can be a consistent fighter for democracy. It may become a victorious fighter for democracy only if the peasant masses join its revolutionary struggle. If the proletariat is not strong enough for this, the bourgeoisie will be at the head of the democratic revolution and will impart to it an inconsistent and self-seeking nature.20

However, with the onset of World War I, notes Nadezhda Krupskaya in her Reminiscences of Lenin, the nature and role of democracy became an even more urgent question animating Lenin’s thinking, and he arrived at “a very clear and definite view of the relationship between economics and politics in the epoch of struggle for socialism.”21 Stressing that “the role of democracy in the struggle for socialism could not be ignored,” Krupskaya quotes Lenin as insisting that democracy is necessary for the achievement of socialism in two respects: first, the working class cannot carry out a socialist revolution unless it is prepared for that through struggles for democracy; and second, “socialism cannot maintain its victory and bring humanity to the time when the state will wither away unless democracy is fully achieved.”22

Lenin’s linkage of the socialist goal with “the withering away of the state” is a matter that deserves more attention. He sees the existence of genuine democracy, to the extent that it becomes a habit in the way people function as decision-makers, as inseparable from achieving the desired goal of a stateless socialism. But he also believed it was an essential element in a political strategy to replace capitalism with socialism:

We must combine the revolutionary struggle against capitalism with a revolutionary program and tactics in respect of all democratic demands, including a republic, a militia, election of government officials by the people, equal rights for women, self-determination of nations, etc. So long as capitalism exists all these demands are capable of realization only as an exception, and in incomplete, distorted form. Basing ourselves on democracy as already achieved, and showing up its deficiency under capitalism, we demand the overthrow of capitalism and expropriation of the bourgeoisie as an essential basis both for abolishing the poverty of the masses and for fully and thoroughly implementing all democratic transformations. Some of those transformations will be started before the overthrow of the bourgeoisie, others in the course of this overthrow, and still others after it. The social revolution is not a single battle but an epoch of a series of battles on all and every problem of economic and democratic transformations, whose completion will be effected only with the expropriation of the bourgeoisie. It is for the sake of this ultimate goal that we must formulate every one of our democratic demands in a consistently revolutionary manner.23

Marx, Lenin and the Russian Revolution

We have seen that Dan believes Lenin was not only breaking with the idea that socialism is inseparable from democracy (a point that we have sharply challenged here), but that he was also in conflict “with the underlying principles of Marxism.” One could reframe this by saying that Lenin was trying to make a socialist revolution in what was very much the wrong kind of country. To put it a bit differently, one can refer to George Lichtheim’s assertion: 

The uniqueness of Lenin — and of the Bolshevik organization which he founded and held together — lay in the decision to make the agrarian upheaval do the work of the proletarian revolution to which all Social-Democrats were in principle committed.24

La Botz explains to us, 

At the base of Marx’s thinking was, first, the notion that socialism would arise in a capitalist society where industrial production made possible an abundance of goods and services. Second, he believed that a large industrial working class ... would have the knowledge and power to democratically and collectively organize production and social life for the benefit of the entire society.

But Russia was an economically and industrially backward country in which the working class was a small minority and the peasants made up over 80 percent of the labor force. “Neither Marx and Engels, nor Lenin, nor Luxemburg or Trotsky,” La Botz writes, “believed peasants could lead a revolution or that a socialist revolution was possible in a predominantly peasant society.” To make a revolution in a country such as Russia with an authoritarian party — which is how La Botz (with Lichtheim and others) described Lenin’s organization — was a recipe for an authoritarian nightmare.

This merits more substantial exploration than is possible here. The short answer is this:

  1. Lenin’s party, we have argued here, was not an authoritarian organization.
  2. Marx had a far more complex and evolving approach than La Botz perceives. He did believe that a revolutionary socialist process could be unleashed in backward Russia, provided that the Russian revolution would help generate a worldwide revolution, involving working-class upheavals in more advanced industrial countries.25
  3. Lenin was keenly aware of this, had no illusions that socialism could be achieved within an isolated agrarian country such as Russia, and saw the revolution he helped lead as constituting “a besieged fortress” until joined by the spread of revolution to other lands, especially including industrially advanced countries. This was the point of creating the Communist International.26
  4. Trotsky’s theory of permanent revolution outlined all of this in advance. Trotsky’s perspective converged with the analyses and efforts of Lenin and others to make it so.27

Among the most readable and reliable presentations on Russia’s inspiring 1917 revolution are John Reed’s classic Ten Days That Shook the World, available in many editions, and China Miéville’s more recent October, The Story of the Russian Revolution.28

As things turned out, this brave effort failed. The worldwide revolutionary ferment definitely existed, but it did not triumph in the way or the time framework that Lenin and his comrades had anticipated. What followed was the rise of the bureaucratic-authoritarian order that took the name of “Communism.” Among the efforts to come to grips with this is my own recent study, October Song: Bolshevik Triumph, Communist Tragedy, 1917-1924 (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2017).

What to do?

There is, truly, much to be done. Revolutionary socialists must be actively engaged with comrades of various groups in efforts to build class-conscious struggles of the actual, diverse working class — through mass movements and united front coalitions — geared to win victories beneficial to the working class and all oppressed people. This should involve a blend of mass actions, socialist agitation/education, and socialist electoral work, combining to guide the efforts of an evolving network of revolutionary collectives. That is not enough, but it is a start. 

As we continue to create what is needed, we must be committed, “first, to learn, secondly, to learn, and thirdly, to learn, and then to see to it … that learning shall really become part of our very being.”29 In contrast to what Dan La Botz urges us to do, I believe that this involves not saying goodbye to Lenin and Leninism but continuing to learn critically from Lenin and his comrades’ experiences, successes, shortcomings, mistakes, and unfinished tasks.

  • 1

    A different way of seeing Lenin is indicated in my recent essay “Essential and Distinctive Qualities in Lenin as Applied to Today’s Socialist Struggle in the United States,” published under the title “Lenin and Today’s Socialist Struggle in the United States,” available through Communis (https://communispress.com/lenin-and-todays-socialist-struggle-in-the-u-s/) and LINKS (https://links.org.au/lenin-and-todays-socialist-struggle-united-states). 

  • 2

    Quoted in Robert H. McNeal, Bride of the Revolution: Krupskaya and Lenin (London: Victor Gollancz, 1973), 242.

  • 3

    James Burnham, “Lenin’s Heir,” Partisan Review, vol. XII, no. 1, Winter 1945, 71.

  • 4

    Theodore Dan, The Origins of Bolshevism (New York: Schocken Books, 1970), 236, 237-238.

  • 5

    V.I. Lenin, “Preface to the Collection Twelve Years” (1907), Collected Works, Vol. 13 (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1978), 102.

  • 6

    This dispute is described in detail, with documentation, in Paul Le Blanc, Lenin and the Revolutionary Party (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2015; originally published in 1990), 63-64.

  • 7

    Rosa Luxemburg, “On the Situation in the Russian Social Democracy,” Special Section: Selected Political and Literary Writings, Revolutionary History, Volume 10, Number 1, 72; also see a different translation in The Rosa Luxemburg Reader, ed. by Peter Hudis and Keven B. Anderson (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2004), 272.

  • 8

    Clare Sheridan, Mayfair to Moscow—Clare Sheridan’s Diary (New York: Boni and Liveright, 1921), 120.

  • 9

    Carter Elwood, The Non-Geometric Lenin: Essays on the Development of the Bolshevik Party 1910–1914 (London: Anthem Press, 2011), xiv, xvii, xviii.

  • 10

    Martov and Abramovitch quoted in Isaac Don Levine, The Man Lenin (New York: Thomas Seltzer, 1924), 13, 36.

  • 11

    Levine, 157, 160, 176.

  • 12

    Levine, 179, 192, 193.

  • 13

    George F. Kennan, Russia and the West Under Lenin and Stalin (New York: New American Library, 1962), 243.

  • 14

    Maxim Gorky, Untimely Thoughts: Essays on Revolution, Culture, and the Bolsheviks, 1917–1918 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1995), 268; The Letters of Rosa Luxemburg, ed. by Georg Adler, Peter Hudis, Annelies Laschitza (London: Verso, 2011), 298.

  • 15

    Leon Trotsky, On LeninNotes Towards a Biography (London: George G. Harrap and Co., 1971),165, 146.

  • 16

    Kennan, Russia and the West Under Lenin and Stalin, 244.

  • 17

    Nicolás González Varela, “David Riazanov, a Revolutionary Scholar of Marxism,” Jacobin, February 27, 2024, https://jacobin.com/2024/02/david-ryazanov-revolutionary-marxism-scholar. Riazanov’s dual biography of Marx and Engels is available through the Marxist Internet Archive: https://www.marxists.org/archive/riazanov/works/1927-ma/index.htm

  • 18

    González Varela, “David Riazanov.” On the Marx-Engels Institute, see a useful Wikipedia entry https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marx%E2%80%93Engels%E2%80%93Lenin_Institute and an article in the Marxist Internet Archive: https://marxists.architexturez.net/archive/riazanov/bio/bio02.htm.

  • 19

    Raphael Abramovitch, The Soviet Revolution, 1917-1939 (New York, International Universities Press 1962), 214.

  • 20

    V.I. Lenin, “Two Tactics of Social-Democracy in the Democratic Revolution,” Collected Works, Vol. 9 (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1962), 23, 60. 

  • 21

    Lenin, “Two Tactics,” Collected Works, Vol. 9, 29; N.K. Krupskaya, Reminiscences of Lenin (New York: International Publishers, 1971), 328.

  • 22

    Krupskaya, 328.

  • 23

    Lenin, “The Revolutionary Proletariat and the Right of Nations to Self-Determination, Collected Works, Vol. 21 (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1964), 408-409; Krupskaya, 328-329.

  • 24

    George Lichtheim, Marxism, An Historical and Critical Study (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1965), 333. Lichtheim also portrayed Lenin in the same way La Botz does, as an authoritarian insisting on “dictatorial control within a ‘narrow’ party of ‘professional revolutionaries’” (330).

  • 25

    See Teodor Shanin, Late Marx and the Russian Road: Marx and the Peripheries of Capitalism (originally published in 1983 by Monthly Review Press), and two studies by Kevin Anderson: Lenin, Hegel, and Western Marxism, A Critical Study (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2023; originally published in 1995) and The Late Marx’s Revolutionary Roads: Colonialism, Gender, and Indigenous Communism (London: Verso, 2025).

  • 26

    See the invaluable essays in John Riddell, Lenin’s Comintern Revisited (Leiden: Brill, 2026).

  • 27

    Beginnings of critical-minded exploration can be found in Leon Trotsky, Permanent Revolution and Results and Prospects (New York: Pathfinder Press, 1969); Michael Löwy, The Politics of Combined and Uneven Development: The Theory of Permanent Revolution (London: Verso, 1981); Ernest Mandel, Trotsky as Alternative (London: Verso, 1995).

  • 28

    China Miéville, October, The Story of the Russian Revolution (London: Verso, 2017). For a succinct summary, one might consult Paul Le Blanc, “Russia 1917,” LINKS (https://links.org.au/paul-le-blanc-russias-1917-revolution-and-problems-socialist-organization), also available through Communis, December 26, 2025, (https://communispress.com/russia-1917/) and Solidarity (https://solidarity-us.org/russias-1917-revolution-problems-of-socialist-organization/). 

  • 29

    V.I. Lenin, “Better Fewer, But Better” (1923) in Paul Le Blanc, ed. Lenin: Revolution, Democracy, Socialism, Selected Writings (London: Pluto Press, 2008), 339.